Opla Zoro X You - Tumblr Posts

Chaos in Their Bones Ch.8

Ongoing Series

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

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

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

Words: 30.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, where exactly did Arlong take them?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop calling me that,” Zoro snapped. 

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

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

“Shut. Up.”

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

“I said shut up!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He needed a drink. 

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

“That’s your thing, right? Plans?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Man has a point.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Nami won’t do that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You got it, Luffy.”

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

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

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

“What did the waiter just say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey Zoro, not to but in-“

“You’re butting in.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought it was a sea witch?”

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

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

“When was this ever mentioned?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When did he start to hyperventilate? 

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

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

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

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

You weren’t here. 

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

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

“Sweet dreams, Zoro.” 

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

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

Coward. 

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

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

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

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

But he couldn’t, could he? 

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

Chew came in shortly after Nami left. 

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

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

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

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

“Ha! You’re right about that.”

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

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

Everything hurt. 

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

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

Yay you.  

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

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

“And what is that, exactly?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe you could use this to your advantage.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gods, you really missed Luffy. 

“Oh, I’m not going to kill you. Yet.”

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

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

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

“Wait. What?”

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

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

“I’m literally just a human.”

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

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

“I. Am. Just. A. Human.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were the game. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get out of here! Before I tell!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are fucking crazy.”

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

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

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

Of course. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wanted to go home. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Zoro.”

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

“Where are you going with her?”

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

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

You felt sick. 

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

“She’s no use to us if she’s dead.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Don’t make more of a fuss. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?” 

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

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

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

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

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

All I wanted was to play…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, marinating it is then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’d thrown up sometime ago in the sand. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. 

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

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

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

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

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

“G-go…go ba-ck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

No, no do not cry! 

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

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

“In Coco Village?!”

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

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

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

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

“Nazifa.”

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

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

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

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

“What were you looking for exactly?”

“Plants, silly!”

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

“You promise?”

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

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

You meant it. 

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

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

The sound of his name startled him awake.

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

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

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

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

Come and find me, Pirate Hunter, Roronoa Zoro.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, Zoro kinda liked those odds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Both.”

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

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

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

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

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

“But?”

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

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

Make it right. 

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

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

The world must have been against him today. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Her tattoo says different.”

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

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

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

“Nami made her choice.”

“You don’t know why.”

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

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

“I’m sure Nami has her reasons.”

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

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

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

“Land hoe!”

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

The Conomi Islands. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They are literally fashion’s utility pants.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?”

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

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Nami-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that why you brought me cargo pants?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a thigh satchel.”

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

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

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

“Oh yeah!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take what?”

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

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

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

“We’re here.”

“What exactly are we here to do?” 

Nami sighed out her reply. 

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

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

“It’s not.”

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

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

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

“They let you out! And you came!”

“I made you a promise, didn’t I?”

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

“Are you making friends without me?” 

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

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

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

“Her dad is sick, Nami.”

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

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

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

“Doc-“

“Nami, please.”

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

“Nami-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hear you, Nami, I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s the healer, Va.” 

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

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

You could do better. Be better. 

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

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

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

“Luffy. What are you doing here?”

Luffy??

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

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

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

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

“Usopp?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ask about him. 

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

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

You were hugging the waiter. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zoro couldn’t care less. 

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

Waiters included. 

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

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

How far did they go? 

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

“Who did this?”

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

“Zoro-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Save me, Pirate Hunter…

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

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

Let Luffy handle Nami. He would handle you. 

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

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

I woke up for you. 

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

“I came to save you.”

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

“I know.”

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

“Come on, Doc. We have to head back.”

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

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

“I have to go-“

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

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

“Doc. Look at you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what about me?” 

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

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

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

“I can’t let you go back.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He should’ve told you sooner…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kuina. 

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

“Doc, we need to go. Now.”

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

“You heard me.”

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

Branded? Where? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I came to save you. 

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

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

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

How awful did you look? 

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

“Earth to Doc! Where are you going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nami-“

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

“Don’t, Doc. It’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. After what I said to them…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Zoro came here for you,” she noted. 

“That’s besides the point.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

“Yes!”

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

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

“Too late! You already said okay.” 

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

“That was one hell of a fast plan.”

Nami shrugged before she grabbed the shovel and started digging. 

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

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

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

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Nami-“

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

“Nami, promise me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nazifa, you scared me.”

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

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

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

“No I don’t. Mr. Genzo might.”

“Mr. Genzo?”

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

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

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

“The Pirate Hunter in the straw hat.”

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

“Pirate…Hunter?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Doc, what are you doing here?”

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

“Nami.”

“Nami?”

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

“Zoro, please.”

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

“Doc, what’s wrong?”

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

“I know I look terrible.”

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

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

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

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

“It’s fine.”

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

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

“Funny you should ask about the antibiotic-“

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

“I broke the glass it was in.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever! Potato tomato!”

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

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

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

“Luffy went out for a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Jesus, woman,” Zoro seethed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This feels vaguely familiar.”

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

“What are you talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You came back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wasn’t thinking. 

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

The need. 

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

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

The best way to do this? A kiss.

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

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

It was everything he didn’t want to be. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stupid fucking clown. 

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

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

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

“I can’t let you leave.”

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

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

“You make it sound easy.”

“It’s cause it’s Nami’s plan.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t like this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where do you think you are coming from?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Please don’t say it’s me, please-

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

“What-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kill them all!”

Kill who- “No.”

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

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

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

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

“Beneath us!”

“Yeah!”

“Beneath us!”

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

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

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

“No! Don’t you touch her!”

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

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

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

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

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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 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Previous

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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Chaos in Their Bones Ch. 10

Ongoing Series

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

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

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

Words: 10.3k

A/N:  Alright y’all. The smut has arrived. Is it any good? Probably fucking not. So I apologize in advance but ya girl tried. Hopefully, as I continue to write intimate scenes for these two idiots, it won’t be such a dumpster fire. That being said, this chapter is a lot more fun, more lighthearted, and (fingers crossed) a good time. Filler chapter part 1 in this series is here and hopefully it’s a good a time as all the rest. And as always: Thank You. For always being so kind and loving my story as much as you do. I hope you all continue to enjoy it 🖤 Much Love, Jenn

p.s. please press play whenever you get to a certain part. You'll know when you get there.

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6 Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Previous

Warnings: swearing, P in V, unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids), fingering, virginity taking (?) mentions of past trauma, doc being awkward as hell

You weren’t sure what kind of dream you were having in the beginning. It could’ve been a lovely one. It also could’ve been a terrible one, but that was the beauty of sleep. Sometimes it didn’t have to be accompanied by a dream and just be blissful, peaceful, oblivion. You were willing to bet one of Sanji’s orange tarts that you were sleeping in the last category before a violent jolt shifted you awake.

You thought the Merry was capsizing; a wave had come darting over the side and sent her ass over the stern. Instead, it was Roronoa Zoro who stood at the end of your bed, arms crossed, with a booted foot on the bedframe where said foot had shoved the frame back against the wall. 

“The fuck-”

“Get up.”

“-are you doing in my room?”

Each word was a grumble. You were positive if your eyes could open up, you’d be giving him a glare so potent that it might kill him. Fortunately for Zoro, your eyes were still battling the glaze of sleep. Unfortunately for you, even with your eyes hooded in the shape of a crescent moon, you were painfully aware that he was wearing a beige kimono-style shirt. It was specifically the one you’d mentioned to Nami a few times since leaving the Conomi Islands that was a particular weakness of yours. 

The way the sleeves strained against his biceps - the muscles underneath blatantly on display with his arms crossed. The sinful way the dip of the V-shape exposed your eyes to the tanned chest underneath. A chest you knew very well was as defined as the muscles in his arms. 

“Have you been eavesdropping again?”

It was the only solid reason you could think of for seeing him wear that specific shirt - and ones like it - five times now in the last few days. You didn’t even try to hide your irritation, and Zoro didn’t flinch as it carried over to the noticeable pitch in your tone. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, get up.”

“Of course you don’t,” you mumbled. 

You fell back against the softness of the mattress. A hand scrubbed aggressively over your face in an attempt to try and chase away what fatigue remained. This only resulted in his planted boot giving the frame of your bed another violent shake. 

“Alright, alright! I’m getting up,” you snapped, hurling a pillow in his direction. It wasn’t a shock to watch Zoro easily dodge it. “Has anyone told you how much of a pain in the ass you are?”

“I’ve been told once or twice. Now - up.”

“I am up!”

“You’re still lying there.”

Your hands balled into fists at your sides and it took every ounce of your current self-control not to flail them into the sheets. 

“My god, Zoro, what the hell are you even waking me up for?”

Zoro didn’t bother to remove his boot until he watched your body shift under the sheets. Your arm reluctantly threw back the blankets as you started small shuffles to the edge of the bed grumbling the whole way. It wasn’t until your feet were planted on the wood of your cabin floor that Zoro removed his boot off the bed. 

The cold blank stare he usually wore plastered carefully on his face. A little too careful if anyone cared to ask you. Like he might be enjoying waking you up like a crazy drill sergeant for the Marines. 

As he made his way over to you, he uncrossed his arms and held out his hands for you to take. A pipeline of support that you wanted to smack away because damn him for waking you up when he knew damn well you’d gone to bed late. No matter how childish you wanted to be, however, you couldn’t deny the heat in his eyes made you painfully aware of how close he was. A bed behind you and only a secured upper body wrap holding you together with a pair of shorts were the only things between you. 

You weren’t at a hundred percent yet. The damage Arlong and his men subjected you too was extensive - requiring weeks if not months of upcoming healing. It took you a whole week just to be able to look at yourself in the mirror and not hate what you saw. The rawness of a body now molded and shaped with some scars that would fade over time with some that wouldn’t. 

You weren’t a vain person but…it was a lot. 

There wasn’t any denying the look in Zoro’s eyes but you couldn’t keep your insecurity from flaring to life. It took every fiber of your being not to wrap your middle in a protective hug. Instead, you allowed your hands to slip inside the palm of Zoro’s. He pulled you up quickly, a little too quick, which caused your feet to wobble and your chest to collide with his. 

Your hands landed on his chest to try and steady yourself. Zoro’s own hands fell to your waist to either steady you or -

“You did that on purpose.”

Fuck. Did he always look at you this way? 

In the past few weeks since you’d come back - after the moment inside the tent - an unspoken bond formed between you. It went past sealed limbs and hands that enveloped possessively around flesh. It was an unseen thing that tethered you both to each other. It felt unexplainable the way you knew he was coming before he’d ever entered the room. 

You knew he was behind your door before he’d ever knocked. It was the pause in the shadow under the doorway that gave him away. The sound of a heavy breath shuddering free from a body that was filled with apprehension, which didn’t seem like Zoro at all. 

And while he knew you were his - surely he must know - Zoro entered your space with caution, with timid touches and glances that made sure you knew you held all the control. You, the sun, and him the moon hopelessly moving around your orbit, but somehow, he’d filled every space that used to be empty with nothing but him.

One of them being now. 

In a room full of drying herbs and flowers that cascaded down one side of your room, a few overhead, it should’ve only smelt just like that. The scents of orange blossoms and wisteria mixed with mint. All the smells you’d come to associate with home now mixed with the heady smell of the sea, metals, and the camellia oil Zoro used to sharpen the Wado Ichimonji.

Your space was as much his as it used to be yours.

Zoro didn't answer you or offer up any explanation. His dark eyes only followed your tongue as it wet your bottom lip. His hands gripping your hips a fraction tighter - pulled you in closer. Zoro’s neck craned down to bring his lips closer and you pushed up on your tiptoes - “You and I are training this morning.”

You were going to kill him. 

Your neck was still craned to the side as you scanned his face to see if this was a joke. You waited for a crack in his stern expression to soften with the brightness of his smile. His real one. What you got was that deep gaze that informed you he meant it, and you couldn’t get your eyes to stop blinking back the swear words brewing in your brain. 

“Come again?”

“Training. That’s what we are doing this morning. So, get dressed and meet me on the deck in five.”

To send his message home, Zoro gave your ass a slight smack earning him a squawk of surprise. Your hand absentmindedly rushing up to massage the sting he left just as he released you. If you weren’t shellshocked, you would’ve smacked his arm as he turned and headed for the door. 

“I can’t believe you just did that,” you chuckled in disbelief. 

“And I can’t believe I’m in love with a woman who screams like a bird.”

“I beg your pardo -“

“Five minutes, Doc. You make me wait more than that and I’ll come back to get you.”

“That sounds less frightening and more exciting than I think you’re going for, Mosshead.”

Zoro stopped, hand on the door before he turned back just enough for you to spot the smirk that was beginning to chase the darkness from his eyes. 

“Five minutes.”

Those were his parting words before he exited your room quietly shutting the door behind him. You stared at where he’d left, your brain trying to make sense of what exactly just took place. One minute, you were blissfully sleeping, and the next you were rubbing out the sting Zoro’s hand left on your ass. Not to mention, you were apparently supposed to train with him in less than five minutes. 

You were going to have to make a quick stop at the kitchen before you met him on deck. 

“No, absolutely not. Go put that back right now.”

You weren’t sure what you would find when you finally made it up on the deck. Sure, you were pre-warned that you were going to be subjected to some form of training. Mentally, you prepared yourself to see the weights Zoro used daily or ropes to launch with your arms in ever-expanding waves with him yelling to send them higher and higher. Your mind created obstacle courses and brutal regimes that were going to leave you begging for a time out; to come back and try another day.

What you didn’t expect to find was Zoro - your Zoro - shamelessly shirtless. 

Gone was his shirt from earlier leaving only the sash that held his sword at his waist, jeans, and his boots. Conveniently, he’d left his bandana wrapped around a bicep that was currently flexed; the hilt of the Wado squeezed tight in his palm as he displayed it at his side.

While you hadn’t been prepared for him to be shirtless, Zoro hadn’t expected you to come out with one of Sanji’s pots.

In your book, that made you even.

You waited until you were only a couple of feet from him before you theatrically lifted it up by the handle and gave it a spin. 

“Put it back,” Zoro demanded.

“Absolutely not,” you replied curtly, allowing yourself to spin the pot inside your palm again. “I think you forget how amazing I am with Lucille.”

“Lucille?”

It was cute watching Zoro’s brow raise in apt horror. His eyes watched as you pretended to get ready to throw the pot like a ball. 

“Yeah - that’s her name. You know, the same way your sword has a name.”

“This sword was given a name by one of the greatest and most influential families to ever exist - alive or dead. You can’t just go around naming your own weapons.”

“Well, that doesn’t seem fair, and saying things like Lucille doesn’t deserve a name will make her cry.”

“Please stop calling the pot Lucille.”

“Oi! Doc! Is that my cooking pot?”

If it had been any other time, any other place, that Sanji interjected himself into, Zoro would’ve looked like he’d been sucking on a lemon. Annoyance, a badge of honor he seemed to wear constantly whenever Sanji was present. But, it was your first day of training and here you came, pot in hand, and said cook coming out to reclaim it was the savior Zoro didn’t know he needed.

You could practically see his eyes light up with satisfaction as Sanji stomped his way over to you. 

“She is no longer a cooking pot, Sanji. She is now affectionately known as Lucille.”

Sanji came to a stop beside you. The sleeves of a powder blue dress shirt rolled up his forearms and a fresh cigarette held between his fingers. The other tucked, as per usual, inside the safety of his trousers. He didn’t try to hide the confusion that etched his brows together and, using his free hand, created a line from you to Zoro.

“Oi, Mosshead, you put her up to this?”

With his free hand, Zoro waved off Sanji’s accusation. His hip cocking as he placed the Wado Ichimonji back inside its sheath. Once he knew it was secure, he used it as a perch for his hands. 

You were very aware of the struggle you were having to pay attention to the conversation at hand. It had to do with the pot in your hands that you were no longer fiddling with. Zoro wanted you to put it back, and Sanji was more than happy to remove it from you. That should’ve been your main focus and yet…

Zoro was far more distracting when he wasn’t wearing a shirt. 

Dangerously distracting. You tried to remind yourself you’d seen him shirtless before. Back at Baratie - when none of you were sure he’d make it another night. You’d exposed his chest to the room, stitched his wounds, and cleaned them. 

This was different. 

Back then, Zoro was pale from blood loss. There was no life - no color - to his skin. Not like the way the sun darkened his skin and dusted kisses of freckles over his shoulders. Every cord of muscle in said chest flexed around the diagonal scar that ran from the top of his left peck to the top of his sash. A scar meant to be a lesson now appeared to blend into the skin; a warning to those who sought a challenge. 

A vision of the willpower he possessed to fight even death itself. 

Your gaze was too hungry. You weren’t able to tear your eyes away as he shamelessly flexed the muscles in his forearms that led ever upwards. The way your mouth watered as he turned at his waist, back and forth, to loosen up his back. The movement only put on full display the deep indent that rested between his shoulder blades. 

“Why would I tell her to grab a pot from the kitchen?”

Sanji hadn’t been prepared for his response. He appeared to consider Zoro’s question while he removed his hand from the pocket of his trousers and motioned for you to hand it over. You wish you could say you handed it over with grace, but instead you placed Lucille behind your back.

“Hand it over, Doc.”

“I’m keeping her.”

“It’s my pot,” Sanji reminded you.

“And she deserves better.”

“Excuse me!?”

“Doc, just hand over the damn pot so we can get started.”

No. Nope. You were not pouting. You most definitely weren’t pouting when you glanced at Zoro. You especially weren’t pouting when you gingerly took Lucille from behind your back and placed her handle inside the palm of Sanji’s waiting hand.

“There. Was that so hard?”

“I’ll come back for you,” you whispered to the shiny metal.

Your words only earned you a worried look of concern from Sanji.

“Should I be locking up my pots and pans now? What in the hell is going on?”

Sanji’s question wasn’t directed at you and, if you weren’t still trying to take back the pot from him, you might have been offended. Instead, you allowed the worry Sanji seemed to have for your mental health to fall away while the sound of Zoro’s heavy footsteps making their way across the deck reminded you of the reason you were there. 

“If you’re done messing with the waiter, we have more important things to do.”

You wanted to ask Zoro if he was trying to cause you permanent emotional distress. It had to be the reason he just oh so casually strolled over, still extremely shirtless, very much glistening in the sun with his chest just…out…like that with his wrists resting on the hilt of the Wado. You swore if he so much as tucked a thumb into the sash you were going to combust.

“I can assure you, Mosshead, there is nothing more important to Doc than me.”

“Actually, that would be false,” you cut in around the inhale of breath Zoro was dragging through his teeth. “The most important thing to me is breakfast.”

“I can definitely make a five-star breakfast for one of my favorite girls.“

“We. Are. Training.”

Each syllable knocked against Zoro’s teeth in annoyance. If you didn’t start doing said training soon, you were going to be in the middle of an actual fight. It wouldn’t be the first - or the last - time Sanji and Zoro went at each other with more than just words. 

After the first week of each of them testing the waters of whose presence bothered who the most, they’d ended up coming to blows inside the kitchen. Much to Sanji’s very loud displeasure not only had Zoro’s forehead scuffed Sanji’s recently polished boot, but he’d simultaneously ruined dessert. 

Now Sanji did whatever he could to agitate Zoro, and Zoro did the same. And Sanji’s favorite way to agitate Zoro? Well, that was to irritate him by using you in practically every available reference. 

Because of this, a sharp exhale exited your body as you gently patted a chest you forgot was bare. Very bare. 

Ignore it. Move on. We are moving on…

“Alright. Yes, we are about to train. So, let’s…train away. That way.” 

You directed Zoro to turn around with your hands secured on his shoulders for extra measure. You waited until you were both far enough away from Sanji before you released Zoro, only to find Sanji now seated on a crate. 

Great. Just what you definitely didn’t need - an audience. 

“Alright, Sensei,” you said, voice full of apprehension. “Train away.”

This was punishment. It had to be because you couldn’t imagine any sane human being subjecting themselves to doing this for longer than an hour. First, Zoro made you sprint to the front and back of the Merry ten times. While, at the time, ten felt like such an easy, if not silly, number and you’d mentioned it to him. 

“How am I supposed to work up a sweat going around only ten times? I’m not a baby.”

As it turns out you were, in fact, a baby. 

A giant one by the sounds your lungs audibly made as your legs struggled up a set of stairs. If you’d been smarter and taken the smirk of challenge that rose to his lips as a warning, maybe you would’ve kept your mouth shut. Maybe Zoro would’ve taken pity on you and allowed you a drink of water when you finished, instead of immediately handing you two forearm length pieces of bamboo. 

“What the hell is this?”

Each word squeezed between a ragged breath. You were trying to remain stoic; composed. What you ended up with was your head thrown back, your mouth greedily gulping for air, and eyes shut tight against the sun. 

“Bamboo sticks.”

God, sometimes Zoro was so matter-of-fact you weren’t sure if he was pulling your leg for shits and giggles or if he’d removed his sense of humor. 

“Yes, Mosshead, I see that they are bamboo sticks. No Katana for me?”

“You’re a little clumsy for a Katana -“

“Well, that’s rude,” you mumbled between shifting the weight of one stick in your hand. 

“-you don’t hold your balance well. So, I figured Kenpo sticks might serve you better. To be able to hold any weapon for a long period of time, however, you’re going to have to train the muscles in your arms. Whether it’s holding them or swinging them for extended periods of time. That being said, you’re going to swing each stick five hundred times.”

A whistle from the Northern side of the deck cut across your stunned silence. A reminder that while you’d been struggling to run a few laps, you’d gained an audience. 

“I don’t know Zoro,” started Usopp, “I myself am pretty well-versed in hand-to-hand combat but even that seems…a lot for someone’s first time.” 

Of course, none of you were going to mention that Usopp’s combat consisted of his slingshot or running. You were sure if anyone did, he would’ve chalked it up to being one of the first snipers to ever be able to shoot while running in the East Blue. 

Zoro didn’t appear to be moved by Usopp’s words. His shoulders shrugged them off as he moved closer to you, his hands wrapped around the sticks. It was the fifth time held corrected you in over two minutes since you’d started. Not that you were counting or anything. 

Fuck, your arms were already starting to burn. 

“Pain is weakness leaving the body.”

“If you say, ‘mind over matter,’ next I’m lacing your next dinner with a laxative,” you warned. 

Zoro didn’t appear to be the least bit phased by your most recent threat. His eyes drifted back to watching your form and the way you swung the Kenpo sticks. If you didn’t stop at a full ninety-degree angle, he was going to add on another fifty swings to make up for the ones that weren’t right. 

“Can we please move on to something else before my arms fall off?”

You didn’t care if you sounded desperate. You felt fucking desperate, at this point in your life. You were pretty sure if you kept this up your arms were just going to refuse to work. You needed your arms. They were very vital in being able to be a person. Like eating food, that your stomach loudly reminded you that you needed. 

“It sounds to me like Doc is in need of that breakfast she mentioned earlier,” Sanji called. 

“I could definitely take a second breakfast,” Luffy cut in, his arm raised for added effect. 

“You’ll take seconds of anything,” Nami quipped, earning her a smile from the Straw Hat pirate. 

“And that is why I put a lock on the pantry.”

“There was a lock?”

It was Sanji’s absolute look of horror at Luffy’s confusion that sent you into a giggle fit. One that ended as quickly as it began when Zoro used the covering of the Wado to wack against your thigh. Just like he had that night back at Baratie. 

“What the hell was that for?!”

“You dropped your arms. I’ll add another hundred if you don’t resume your position in the next five seconds.”

You felt your eye twitch - you couldn’t make it stop. You were sure it meant you were either going to have a mental breakdown or worse. Zoro didn’t seem to be worried about either option. His eyes expectantly watched to see what your choice was going to be. 

Suddenly, you were back in your room being woken up by the very same madman in front of you. All you wanted was to sleep in. Maybe add in a little breakfast with the stuffed French toast Sanji had been spoiling you with the last couple of days. 

But no. 

No, you were trapped out on the deck with your crazy demon pirate three-sword-wielding boyfriend. To bring this home, your stomach gave another loud growl and your hands went flailing around in front of you.

“Ugh, Doc. What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m fighting ghosts,” you deadpanned. “What does it look like, Usopp?”

“It looks painful. Are you supposed to be breathing that hard?”

Usopp was right. You were breathing hard. Whether it was from your impromptu tantrum or something else, you weren’t sure. 

“Are you done?”

And then there was Zoro. 

Mr. Composed himself standing there waiting for you to finish. He’d crossed his arms over his chest leaving his perky chest and all his perky muscles on full display. If it wasn’t for your growling stomach it might’ve been enough to distract you. 

A low whistle came from your audience drawing Zoro’s attention away from you. 

“Who knew Zoro was such a masochist?”

“I am not a masochist!” 

“I don’t know, Mosshead. You do seem to be getting off on keeping Doc away from food.”

“I am not.”

“Me doth think the lady protests too much,” Sanji teased, his tongue working around the toothpick he’d placed between his lips. 

“And I think the waiter should get back to the kitchen.”

“Okay, okay!” Nami interjected, jumping off the crate she sat on moments ago. “How about a compromise? Doc gets to eat and as soon as she does, Zoro, you can go back to training her until her arms fall off.”

“I’d like to keep my arms and any other future appendages if that’s alright with everyone,” you added. 

It was a shot in the dark. One you were grateful to Nami for taking. If anyone stood a chance at letting you get even a smidge of breakfast, it was going to be the ship's resident thief and smooth talker extraordinaire. 

But Zoro wasn’t just anyone and he was rarely swayed. Immune to everything on the planet that didn’t come with an alcohol percentage rate. 

And just like that, an idea so ingenuous crept up on you that it almost sent you jumping in place. 

“Or how about this, Zoro,” you began, “the next time we dock, I’ll not only buy you unlimited drinks at the nearest bar. I’ll also buy you a case of whatever you want.”

You tried to keep the hope out of your voice. Unless it tipped Zoro off how truly desperate you were for Sanji to feed you. Who knew what kind of add-ons he would make to an already painfully expensive offer. 

It didn’t take long for you to spot the flare of interest in his eyes. The only tell you needed to know you had him right where you wanted. Your stomach had never been more grateful. 

“Unlimited drinks, two cases of whatever I want, and when you finish with breakfast we pick up where you left off.” 

“Deal.”

It felt like days had passed while you soaked in the heat of the tub. The world has sped by in a rush of sunlight and the salt air of crashing waves to the overwhelming dusk of night. 

You’d stayed so long inside the water your fingers ripened to raisins. Even then, you would’ve continued to stay housed inside the steam and heat until the aches and pains liquified into nothing. 

The training with Zoro had been welcome, but unexpected. It felt good to not be treated like fine china. As if the slightest tap or mention of your wounds that seemed to be taking longer to heal would rip you back open. It was starting to drive you mad. You were close to reminding them that you were…different. 

The question of just what and who you were unanswered. An unmistakable unanswered question with possibly no answers and then, like magic, Zoro showed up in your room demanding for you to train.

Both of you knew it was a compromise. One that didn’t need explanation. Since his vow in the tent, Zoro had made it very clear he meant every word. While he gave you space (sometimes too much of it) he was never far away from you. If you were tending to Nami’s tangerine trees, he was out on the upper deck, body relaxed and stretched like a cat soaking up the sun. The times he was training, he would stop and see where you were. 

No matter where you were on the ship, Zoro was drawn to find you. You weren't exactly sure how it was going to go when the Merry finally docked, but you could only imagine how fun that was going to be. 

Zoro taking the time to train you wasn’t meant for you, not really, anyway. It was a way for him to know, without a doubt, if you were ever separated, you would be safe. 

“I can’t lose you, Doc.”

The baritone of his voice felt heavier in the space between your rooms. You noticed it in the way his hand gripped the hilt of the Wado just a little too tightly. The muscles in his jaw grinding to a halt against his teeth. 

It had been this way since you’d been back on the Merry. The moment in your room a fading memory. You wanted to ask him why he never knocked again - why he never came back inside to finish what Luffy interrupted that day. 

Zoro’s lips claimed yours with the intensity of a fire and had left you to burn at their loss. 

As the days turned to a week and the week began another, the bruises and wounds began to heal. Some of them leave violent reminders of what you’d endured. The sob that had racked through your body like a great wave of grief echoed through you still as you looked at your back in the mirror. Ugly marks you knew would never fully go away; gnarled patches of flesh that told a story you wish you could forget. 

You hated your mind for telling you this was why Zoro never came back. Who would want to touch a broken thing?

“You can never lose me, Zoro.” Your reply was hushed, spoken to the space between your shoes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But I almost lost you. Didn’t I?” There it was. The anger. The heat of an old fear that burned its way into something feral. “A few minutes longer,  midwife too short, and you wouldn’t be here and I would know a loss greater than any damn gods could fix.”

The memory of that moment trapped between your bedroom doors played on repeat in your mind as you stepped out of the bath. Your hands quickly grab a towel to wrap around yourself and make sure it was secure. 

You weren’t worried when you stepped out from behind the bathroom door if you would run into anyone. Dinner had long since been served, the late-night conversations all but died, and the quiet lap of water against the Merry was the only sound to greet you. Still, you couldn’t help but look both ways down the hallway before you made your way towards your room. 

You’d just made it to your door, hand on your doorknob, when the sudden cold air of a door - Zoro’s door - whooshing open made your body freeze in place. 

“It took you seventeen minutes longer than usual to get back to your room tonight. What’s going on?”

Never mind the fact that you were standing exposed in just a towel in the middle of the hallway. You could even disregard - maybe - the fact that Zoro was standing in the doorway to his room with his arm against the frame, shirtless (my god did he run out of clean shirts?!) with his usual carefully maintained hair looking like his fingers ran through it more than a few times. 

“I’m sorry,” your voice quipped on the word, “but have you been timing me?”

“Answer the question.”

“You answer my question first! And why are you just standing like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like -,” you waved a hand from his feet to his head for added emphasis, “- that.”

Zoro watched your hand as it flew around like a rather large fly on crack. If you were a gambling person, you might have placed a bet on the fact he found you very amusing right now. More amusing than you would’ve liked. 

“What does that even mean? How do you want me to stand?”

“Not like that!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is me standing like this bothering you?”

You could practically feel your eyes narrowed to slits when he leaned deeper against the arm on the doorframe. The action making the muscles in his stomach become more pronounced and his pants sling lower against the deep V of his hips -

“You absolutely did that on purpose,” you seethed. 

You weren’t expecting him to take a step out from the safety of his door frame. That one step was all Zoro needed to completely take up the small space in the hallway leaving you with only two options: move back or stand your ground. Your body was screaming for you to pick the first option, but Naan didn’t raise a coward. So, when Zoro’s arm reached behind you to brace himself on your door, completely closing the space between you, you tried your absolute best to act like you were fine. 

You were very much aware you were only in a towel and Zoro was casually standing there in only a hastily thrown-on pair of pants. His face mere inches away from yours. You wouldn’t be surprised if he caught the sound of your heart thundering wildly in your chest or heard the very prominent, Fuck, that was bouncing through your head in time with your nerves. 

The desire Zoro stirred in you, that you’d buried down the last few weeks, came roaring back to the surface with a vengeance. You - he - was playing with fire and with every inch his body took into your space, you weren’t sure you’d have the strength to not plead for him to stay. Every second his body drew closer to yours, every cell in yours came to life with a need so violent it almost buckled you at the knees.

“You’re cute when you blush.” The whispered words hovered between you. His chest now pressed against the hand that clutched at the towel while he opened the door behind you. “Get inside.”

You couldn’t make your body move. You wanted to stay there enveloped in the heat of his body for just a few seconds more. The rising smirk in the corner of his mouth informing you that Zoro was very aware of this. 

“I’m not blushing.”

“Sure, you always walk around with a pink tint to your cheeks, Snowdrop,” he hummed. “Now get in.”

The use of your new pet name was what sent you walking back inside your room. It was different than when he called you by your nickname. His tone unbothered, as if he could be talking to anyone. It wasn’t as intimate as when he spoke your real name. The way his voice deepened and rolled your name off his tongue like it was his greatest sin. 

No. Snowdrop was soft. Innocent. Private. Just for him. 

You expected him to tell you good night before he shut the door. It was the nightly routine you’d come to expect. Zoro waiting in the purgatory between both of your rooms. Always present, but never crossing. You held your breath, waiting to hear the richness of his voice cascade down your spine as intimately as if he’d touched you. You watched him while you took a few more steps inside the safety of your room; eyes never wavering off him as your fist curled against the fabric of your towel. 

It wasn’t until he’d stepped inside, the door firmly closing behind him, that you realized this time was different. The only thing that helped quiet your racing heart was the uncertainty that laced itself into the crease of his brow. His eyes roaming over your towel-clothed figure as if he just realized it was all you wore. 

You wanted to go back to earlier this morning when you considered maiming him with a pillow. When Zoro was in the middle of being his usual strong silent type self who was ordering you around. You preferred it over a room that suddenly felt too small and unspoken words that left so much longing to hammer against your chest. 

Zoro ran a hand through his hair, somehow making it messier than it was a second ago, before tucking his hands into the safety of his pockets. Any other time it would’ve been innocent. At the weight of his fists, however, the stretch band at the waist gave way dipping lower to show the beginning peak of moss-green hair. 

Your body seemed to forget how to swallow. The action caused you to cough around a ball of spit that got caught in your throat. 

“Where do you keep the Alderberry?”

How could he ask questions right now? How could Zoro be so composed? You felt like you were three seconds away from combusting. 

“Why?”

The sound of his bare feet taking a cautious step forward sent your pulse spiking against your neck. Gods, please, don’t let him notice. 

But he was Roronoa Zoro. The Demon Pirate Hunter and soon to be the Greatest Swordsman who ever lived. Of course, he noticed. 

“I know Nami usually helps you put it on at night. You were in the bath so long she went to sleep.”

Damn. Just how long had you been hiding in the bath? 

Nami usually did help you every night. Her hands were the only ones you trusted to rub in the Alderberry ointment on the places you couldn’t reach. Your back being the biggest target area. There was a comfort in knowing only one person aboard the ship took inventory of every wound currently healing on your body. The way Nami teased how Zoro was probably seething in a jealous fit across the way knowing she was seeing more of you than he did. 

It was easy to take her playfulness and meet it with a dismissive one. Easy to pretend around the comfort of being in her presence that deep down you believe the opposite. 

And now here Zoro stood encapsulated in the darkness of your room. The only light came from the window of moonlight that cascaded like a kaleidoscope across his face and shoulders. All his usual carefully crafted composure, the ‘I don’t give a fuck,’ bravado that rolled off him in waves was stripped away. 

Here inside your room, Roronoa Zoro wasn’t the three-sword fighting style demon who terrified dozens of pirates. 

In your room, he was just a boy who looked at you like you’d hung the stars. 

“Oh,” you huffed out in a shaky breath, “Yeah, uhm, it’s over there on the middle shelf to the left.”

Zoro didn’t wait to see where you pointed. His feet padded over to one of the many shelves that lined the small room his eyes scooping out the shelf until they spotted a small circular tin. You’d painted a cluster of tiny Alderberries on the lid, and just that small detail alone sent a ghost of a smile to arch the corner of Zoro’s lips. 

“You know, you’re the only doctor I know who categorizes all of their medicine with pictures instead of labels.”

His voice barely registered as he spoke. The richness of his voice only seemed to grow deeper, gruffer, when he talked in hushed tones. You hated how your body reacted to the intimacy of the sound. Your eyes helplessly watched as he moved towards you, his fingertips slowly moving the cylinder of ointment between them. 

“I prefer my drawings to ugly labels.”

“But what if someone comes in and grabs the wrong one?”

“Well, I guess they better learn how to ask first before taking anything,” you chided. 

You tried your best to sound like Naan. The way she would scold you for trying to sneak sweets before dinner. It appeared that your attempt at sounding like an ornery old woman only succeeded in making him smile so big his teeth showed. Immediately, Zoro ducked his chin down towards his chest to try and hide it. 

It took every ounce of strength you had not to reach out to grab ahold of his chin and force him to give it back. 

“Alright, Snowdrop. Turn around for me.”

At the mention of showing him your back, your body went rigid. You hoped he didn’t notice, but it was Zoro. Of course, he noticed. 

And of course, he took it the wrong way. 

“I’m sorry. I know it’s probably easier having Nami -“

“No, it’s fine,” you quickly cut in. 

You tried to wave away his apologetic words. He had nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t his fault you ended up with wounds like this, and it wasn’t his job to heal you. It just came down to the fear of rejection, the looks of pity or disgust, that kept you hostage inside your own head. 

With a shaky breath, you steeled yourself, turning to expose your back to him. Well, as exposed as it could be with the towel covering up past your shoulders. You waited in the heavy silence of the room with apprehension threatening to eat you alive as your eyes roamed the room. You examined every shelf, every strand of hanging flowers as if it was the first time you’d ever seen its contents. 

It felt like you were waiting forever for him to do something, anything, that you felt your nerves begin to buckle. At any minute, you would turn around and tell him nevermind. It was a kind gesture but maybe this was a mistake. You were in the middle of formulating a good enough excuse to give him when the warm pad of his palm on your shoulder sent you jumping out of your skin.

A chuckle rolled from deep in his chest, and you wanted to turn around and punch him. 

“You did that on purpose.”

“I seem to be doing a lot of things on purpose today.”

“If the shoe fits,” you grumbled.

You were prepared this time when his fingers touched down on your skin. Every nerve helplessly followed the path they took as they brushed the drying strands of wet hair out of the way. The calloused pads of his fingertips dipped underneath the fabric of the towel and gave it a small tug. 

“Relax.” 

Fuck. 

He breathed the word against your ear and you couldn’t keep the soft gasp from escaping from between your lips. You prayed the moonlight from your window didn’t show him the goosebumps that one word had elicited across your skin. Your body was a traitor who answered the roaming pads of his hands with a heat that pooled low in the pit of your stomach. 

There was no denying your pulse was thundering beneath your skin, and you wondered if Zoro could see it. If the tips of his fingers felt it as they mapped down from your throat and moved to push the towel low, and lower until he had the cloth down to the middle of your back. His index and middle fingers ran down the length of your spine and your body involuntarily shuddered against him. 

No longer did you care about ointments or salves. You wanted - needed - him to touch you. If Zoro needed to hear you plead and beg, if it was enough for him to release the growing pressure that was building between your legs, you would gladly do it. 

It wasn’t until you heard the sharp whistle of air sliding between his teeth that you remembered what it was he was looking at. You tried to draw the towel back up, to turn back around to face him, but Zoro’s strong hand on your shoulders kept you rooted in place. 

“What are you doing?”

“You don’t have to do this. I appreciate it, but I know it can be a lot - “

“- Doc.” 

“I can go a night without the ointment. Really, Zoro, it's fine.”

“Will you shut up for one second and just talk to me?”

If he could see your face right now he would know you were more than a little confused on how to go about answering that question. 

“Ugh, how am I supposed to simultaneously talk and shut up at the same time?”

He let out a sigh and you felt his forehead drop between your shoulder blades. 

“Poor choice of words,” he groaned.

“I would have to agree.”

“Doc -“

“Zoro?”

Yes, you knew you were being a pain in the ass but, to be incredibly fair, so was he. At the feeling of his teeth nipping at the skin of your back, you tried to swing an elbow back and was rewarded with him simply holding you in place. 

“Be good.”

“Says the one that just bit me.”

Another sigh and his forehead found a home between your shoulders. As if you were the only pain in the ass in this relationship. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

No. 

How could you? It felt like too much and yet, not enough all at once. You didn’t want to tell him that the minute you’d heard him suck in a breath, no doubt from looking at your exposed back, it felt like all your worst fears were real. Zoro finally took one look at some of the damage - damage that replayed throughout your body - and thought the same thing as you. 

You were ruined.

You knew you were still healing. Wounds like these…they took time. No ointment, herb, treatment, or the magic that was scattered across the whole wide ocean would fix you up in a matter of days. So, why did you feel so ugly? So undeserving? 

How did you tell anyone that, when you looked in the mirror, you no longer saw yourself but the monster Arlong created. 

“I know it’s a lot to…look at. I appreciate you wanting to do this for me, Zoro, but I understand if it’s too much. If it’s too ugly.”

You anticipated the feeling of his body removing itself from yours. You counted the seconds and prepared your heart to be ready for the rejection you already thought was coming. It was too much to ask, to look at someone so damaged, and love them like they were whole. 

His answer came with the press of his lips against the hollow of your throat. A sound between a moan and gasp left you. Your mind trying to make sense of the sensation as he gently left another a few inches lower. 

You both stood trapped and unmoving in place. Your back facing him with his mouth hovering over your skin. His breath ghosted over your skin causing you to shiver against his chest. A hand held on to your waist, while the other held you at your shoulder. His thumb worked its way between the towel and your skin, slowly getting you to release the tight hold you kept on the fabric. 

The hushed sound of your name - reverent and full of sin - brushed against your ear. You tried to fight off a shiver but felt your body shake in his hands. The anticipation brought to life an all too familiar ache for his touch. You’d become accustomed to that specific need since the moment you’d met. 

To be coveted the way he coveted his swords; an extension of who he was. 

You didn’t fight him as his fingers gently worked the towel back down. You didn’t try and hide again as his fingers caressed down the exposed skin and stopped at the median of your back. Zoro’s fingers delicately worked over the indents of healing flesh; traced over jagged lines of cuts that zigzag up and at odd angles. He touched them like he was committing each slight against your flesh to memory. 

“Doc,” his lips pressed against your throat. “You’re perfect.”

You bit down on your lip to contain a sob. Your chest heaved as his fingers found their way up to the place you hated the most. Where Arlong branded you and, where later, he’d branded you again with fire and metal. 

“What’s this?”

You didn’t have to see him to know Zoro’s brow had creased together in curiosity. If he’d seen it before the molten poker that’d been placed across your skin, he’d know what the tattoo originally was. 

“It was a brand from Arlong to show ownership - that I was part of the crew. I belonged to him.” Zoro’s hand grew still as you spoke. The hand on your hip gripping you so tight you were sure there would be bruises. “That’s what it was until they…they took something metal - a poker or something - to my back.”

A few moments passed before you felt his thumb gently move over the healing skin. You followed the path they took, inching upwards, closer and closer to what was there now. 

“This looks like…”

Zoro didn’t finish his sentence. His words edged with a softness until they faded between you. The realization of what it was now stilled his thumb from tracing over it again. 

“Like a snowdrop,” you finished for him. “It is. After - after everything, Nojiko came by the hut. She told me she fixed Nami’s tattoo and offered to fix mine. I didn’t know what else to pick so…”

His thumb traced the outline of the flower across your skin. A shiver rippled through you but it wasn’t from the cold. Your room suddenly felt too quiet and it left you feeling exposed. Surely, Zoro knew the only reason why you picked it. A good memory to try and wash out all the bad. 

The silence was becoming unbearable. You didn’t know what to say next to fix it, but you had to say - do - something or else you would go mad. 

“Zoro -“

All words, all thought, ceased the minute the hand that had gripped your hip pushed you back against him. Gone were the small inches of distance Zoro created at your back.  The desire that had been building, that you tried to ignore, flared to life between you. 

A hunger like you never experienced before washed over your skin. It only grew more ravenous as Zoro gave one final, violent tug on the towel, ripping it free from your hands and tossed it to the floor. It left you open, exposed, to the room. 

To him.

He didn’t give you time to try and recover any modesty. 

Zoro’s hand that was at your waist snaked up to wrap an arm around your middle keeping you pinned against him. The other that had traced the outline of your snowdrop tattoo drifted up to grab a hold of your chin. Gently, he used it to crane your neck to the side leading your mouth to his. 

Zoro’s lips brushed against yours tentatively, with caution, as if he applied too much pressure you might run. It only earned him a needy breath that dipped in your chest. The motion causes the fingertips of the hand at your waist to skim the soft skin. 

It was such a light touch - innocent - except it wasn’t. 

A moan rushed past your lips, and all that careful restraint Zoro prided himself for evaporated along with his control.

The gentle fingers that cupped your chin now pressed firmly against your throat, craning your head back to rest against his shoulder. The angle allowed him to place a bruising kiss on your lips. His tongue broke the soft seal your lips created between you to stroke across yours; coaxing you to deepen the kiss and devour you from the mouth down. 

One minute the hand at your throat was there, commanding, keeping you where he wanted and the next it glided down your chest. The pads of his fingers skimmed over a breast, teasing your nipple before he trapped it between his thumb and index finger. You pressed yourself back against him, your body grinding, straining, for any sort of friction to relieve the growing ache he made between your legs. 

Gods, you could barely think past the wanton sob that crawled its way up your throat. The sound hummed against your shared kiss in a plea against Zoro’s mouth. He answered with a growl that seared his ownership across your skin. 

Your senses were flooded with him. His touch was electric and overwhelming and you found yourself clutching onto him like a woman drowning. You laced your fingers in his hair to try and anchor yourself, but when a digit of his own slid between your folds your knees buckled. 

Zoro held you firmly to him. Easily holding up your weight as the pad of his finger rubbed a lazy slow circle over your clit. A moan tore your lips apart as you rocked against him. You barely registered the soft nip of his teeth on your shoulder when that finger, slick with your arousal, pushed itself inside you.

Another throaty moan filled your room. The sound echoed relentlessly off the walls with each thrust of his wrist. You scrambled to find an anchor - to find something to keep you present. But the desire that crushed you, made you open your legs wider for him, to fuck you deeper, spread you wider, refused to be held down. Your nails dig into his forearm in a weak attempt to keep yourself grounded. 

You never felt so wanton before - so ravenous. Your hips beginning to move on their own. Hungrily meeting each thrust of his fingers with a rock of your hips pushing the digit deeper inside you. 

“My good girl,” Zoro purred against your ear. “You can take another finger for me, can’t you?”

You weren’t sure if you could trust your voice. Your tongue wetting your lips as you gave him a nod. Zoro didn’t wait for you to do anything else. On the next thrust, you felt a sear of pain, just enough to rend a gasp from your throat that transformed into a moan. 

You felt so full. So incredibly full as his fingers moved against your walls, pushing deeper, curling, and reaching until they found something that turned your next moan into a stuttering breath. Zoro felt it too. The way your walls tightened around him. The muscles in your legs struggled to keep from buckling. His thumb moved circles around your clit and you tried to be quiet. Truly, you did. 

But the pressure was building. The heat low in your belly expanding - threatening to explode. 

“Zoro,” you panted out his name. 

A plea. Praise. Worship. All or none of it you weren’t sure. But he answered his name with his teeth claiming the skin of your shoulder and biting down just enough that the pain blended in with the pleasure. 

“Come for me,” he demanded. Your name left his mouth like a man in rapture. “Be my good girl and come for me.”

With another flick of his thumb - a stroke of his fingers - you felt that molten heat that’d been growing between your legs erupt. An explosion of white behind your eyes as you bucked back against him. His arm held you steady until your orgasm began to subside. 

Slowly, Zoro removed his fingers from between your thighs - fingers and hand slick. With his arm still securely wrapped around your waist, he moved you towards the bed. When your knees touched down on the mattress, you turned to look up at him. Your hands went grabbing at the hem of his jeans. 

“We don’t have to -“ he started.

The hand not coated in your arousal grabbed at your wrist to stop you. You kept your eyes on him as your fingers undid a button and moved on to the zipper. 

“Please.” Your voice was raw. Overused. But you would use it to beg him if it got you what you wanted. “I need to feel you inside me, Zoro. I -“

Zoro didn’t give you a chance to finish. His answer came in the form of a growl. His hands pushed you down onto the mattress as he finished removing himself of his jeans. He braced one knee on the frame of the bed. A hand beside your head as he moved himself between your legs. 

His hand hooked itself beneath your knee and brought your thigh to rest against his hip. You could feel the weight of his cock - warm and heavy - on your stomach. The apprehension of the unknown - would it hurt? - weighed heavy in your thoughts for a moment. A searing kiss from Zoro quickly tore it away as he easily moved further up the bed. Your thigh still held tightly to his hip. 

Zoro reached down between the length of your bodies, his hand grabbing his cock to align with your entrance. He dragged the tip of his cock through your folds, coating himself in your orgasm, and teasing your swollen clit. A moan tore your lips and, at this moment, Zoro pushed inside you. 

The sear of pain was immediate as your cunt stretched to accommodate him. Zoro was thick - so impossibly thick. With each thrust, the feeling of fullness grew. His hips worked slowly - in and out - coating his length, inch by aching inch with your arousal. 

“You okay?”

You hadn’t realized you’d screwed your eyes shut tight until he’d spoken. When you opened them it took you a second to tell he’d stopped. His body suspended above you, eyes searching your face, waiting for you to tell him what to do. 

Your head was already shaking before you found your voice. A soft, “yes,” fills the intimate space between you. You reached up to place your hand on his cheek, your thumb tracing over his lips as he’d done with your tattoo, before saying it again. 

“Don’t stop.”

You pulled him down into a kiss as he pulled out just enough to slide back in. Another moan vibrated across your lips, but neither of you pulled away. With one final thrust, you felt him bottom out inside you. It was Zoro this time who broke his lips away from yours. A guttural moan, half-desperate, collapsed from his chest. 

And then he was a man undone. His hips recklessly fucking into you. His fingers in your hair. His lips pressed half-breathed kisses along your jaw. Slowly, with each thrust of his hips, the pain ebbed away and all that was left was the fullness. His cock stroking your walls and fingers bruising your thighs as he found a relentless rhythm. 

Soon, the earlier pressure you’d felt began to build again. Zoro’s own breathing growing ragged as he fucked up into you. With each stroke of his cock, the pressure built and built until you forgot how to breathe. Your walls clenching tight around him. 

Zoro’s hand reached up, lashing out violently, to grab the headboard. You heard the faint sound of wood splinting but you couldn’t be bothered to care. Your muscles were shaking, tightening, and with the next stroke that sent your body scooting up the bed, you came undone beneath him. Zoro spilling inside you as your cunt squeezed around him.His own breathing hoarse, jagged, and fingers tightening with a bruising force into your hip. 

Zoro collapsed on top of you and you were reminded of how heavy he was. Like an avalanche crumbled around you in the form of a moss-haired oaf. 

So much for the afterglow. 

“Zoro,” you wheezed, your hand tapping his shoulder frantically. “Zoro, you - you gotta move. You're heavy.”

You were aware he was still sheathed inside you - that he didn’t seem to be moving any time soon. A grumble came at your neck tickling the skin. It earned him another smack to his shoulder as you rasped, “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop talking into my neck.”

“Is it uncomfortable?”

“It tickles.”

Silence followed your admission. You weren’t sure what kind of…etiquette came after…being intimate. Were you supposed to rub his back? Pat it? No, that felt too much like telling someone, ‘Good game’. What you settled on felt worse. You drummed your fingers on his shoulder.

“Doc.”

“Yeah?”

“Relax.”

Your fingers stilled at his words. You didn’t know where else to look except up. The ceiling wasn’t really brimming with things to help keep you occupied either, which is how you ended up humming a tune. You were midway through the chorus when a gust of hot air hit your neck. 

Zoro grumbled as he moved his arms beside you, slowly lifting himself up until he was hovering over you. Gods, you didn’t know what came over you, but you couldn’t stop the sheepish smile from curling your lips as your finger waved a, “Hello,” at him.

Zoro shook his head, maybe to hide the smile you won at your antics, but also because you were being, well, you. He unsheathed himself from between your legs (was it supposed to immediately ache like this?) and settled down beside you. 

Lifting up his arm, Zoro waited for you to scoot closer before settling it across your shoulders, pulling you in close to his chest. You wanted to inform him that he was a very firm pillow. You wanted to say a lot of things. A part of you not knowing if it was anxiety that was making you overthink or -

There was no mistaking the heavy sigh that came a few seconds later. With your chin planted on his chest, you glanced up and noticed that Zoro’s eyes were closed, or they were, that is until they opened. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.”

You turned to face his stomach, your cheek resting on an incredibly perky chest and tried to pretend your teeth weren’t worrying away at your lip. 

“Doc -“

“Okay, fine,” you huffed, rising up on your elbow. “I was just wondering: can we have sex? Again?”

The high sound of his laugh, rich and innocent and joyful bounced around the room. You wished you could bottle this moment forever and live inside it. 

“When?”

“Now would be nice. Unless, you know, you’re too tired.” 

You tried to appear innocent as you looked up at him. By the way, his eyes narrowed in on your face, you probably looked anything but innocent. 

“Oh, I’ll be just fine. It’s you I’ll be worried about.”

“And why is that?”

“We have training bright and early in the morning.”

“Absolutely no- !”

You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence before Zoro rolled you over. His hips settled between your thighs, and with one swift thrust had your argument dying with a moan from your lips. 

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

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