Chapter Text
NOTE: All the chapters are song lyrics, you can find the whole playlist HERE
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On a clear night, with Sunny carving through midnight waves, a ghostly chill whispers up Zoro’s back. He stands, gazing out the window of the crow’s nest. He's greeted only by the black sea and Sunny’s flapping sails.
He extends his observation haki far past the ship, into the dark waves, but nothing alerts his senses to danger. He waits a few more moments, frozen in place. Each blade of grass on Sunny’s deck whispers, every fish and underwater presence around the ship brushes Zoro’s senses. But nothing brimming with malice emerges from the dark. No Navy, no warlords, not even a sea king.
It’s been a week since departing Fishman Island and they haven’t run into much yet.
He sighs and shakes it off, filing it away under night sea chill and fatigue.
He looks up at the night sky, blowing out a long sigh. From his position, Zoro can see the star he used to pray to. He’s hundreds of miles from home but his eyes taste that single dying speck. He feels the grass on his legs, the little legs of grasshoppers leaping off his prickling skin. He tastes desperation and soap.
Swallowing, Zoro turns to the sea instead of the speckled blanket above him. He breathes out a sigh and relaxes his cramping shoulders.
The twinkling sky reminds him of the glistening and ever-popping bubbles of Sabaody. He shivers, though the night is mild.
Mother used to tell Zoro to fear the wrath of unmaid choices. She said they’ll dog your twilight sleep and linger what-ifs on your tongue.
Okaasan rambled to Zoro at length about how God will show you a path and your life will be clear if you follow His guidance. That if you stray from His plan, then you should pray to His star, the one that signaled the correct path and ask Him to bring yourself back into step.
Zoro knew his childhood village well, knew which places to avoid, which forest trails had gaps in the bushes that he could crawl through, leading to a clearing or a hollowed-out oak. Zoro could see the stars there, and he’d lay down, praying without momma’s too-strong grip. He feels the wet grass under his knees now, hands pressed together, praying for–
Nami raps on the hatch to the crow’s nest (not like Zoro didn’t feel her coming with his observation haki).
Zoro nods to her, getting to his feet and tapping the swords at his side, fingers brushing 3 hilts in patterns of three. Nami says something but Zoro’s already on the ladder.
♒︎ 𓆝♒︎ 𓊝 ♒︎ 𓆟 ♒︎ 𓆞♒︎
It happens again the following night.
He’s cleaning Wado with the new sword polishing kit Robin bought him. He’s on watch again. He’s supposed to wake Franky at 3am but chooses not to, preferring to take all of the night watch so he can devote it to his workouts and working on extending his observation haki. He trusts the others to watch them, sure, but when he’s on watch, he’s on solid ground. It’s his duty to stay alert for the crew. He has to stay awake, to figure out what lingers in the dark waters, waiting to snatch his crew away again.
Sleep claws up his skull but Zoro bats it back and stretches, stands, and looks out the window of the crows nest, into the dark and churning waves.
The coldness arises, a keen tingling up his nerves like haki, but no danger follows. He can tell something is out there, to get the crew, to drag them back to hell. He must stop it. He’s the Demon of the East Blue and he’s well acquainted with hell.
But besides the feeling of coldness trickling down the base of his spine, there is no present danger. It’s infuriating.
The entire night Zoro keeps guard, he paces around the crows nest, seeking the threat. He stretches his haki and peers into the quiet ocean with his naked eye. His 3 blades itch for blood, and he almost wants something to jump out at him. To justify that threats are watching him just beyond reach. Then his skin itches for blades. He longs to see lines of blood and stings of pain.
He shakes his hands out and stands.
Zoro climbs down to the deck, feeling the cook stir below, and leans against the railing. The sea air blows cool drafts over his aching dead eye and spits in his face.
Zoro stands at the railing and digs his gaze into everything.
Searching…
Searching
Haki flairing, a shroud of red
Nothing but churning water
And twitching muscles
The Demon of The East Blue
Scouring the blackened night
bruised waves
Under Sunny’s gate
But nothing writhes
Under her prowl
A cascade of fish and algie
Of water and wind
Birds carving up air
And breaking the night sky
With a mighty call of day
The waves deliver nothing but peace
And the swordsman wishes for blood.
So his would cease singing.
A crash of a mighty wave sends Zoro back a pace. The cold water seems to scorch his overheated skin. He recoils at it.
Okaasan used to say that enough bad acts will turn you into a demon, and if you become a demon…
then holy water will burn.
♒︎ 𓆝♒︎ 𓊝 ♒︎ 𓆟 ♒︎ 𓆞♒︎
“Zoro-bro, why didn’t you wake me for my watch?” Franky asks after breakfast, stumping up to Zoro’s napping spot on the stern. It’s more secluded but he can still watch their backs for anyone trying to sneak up.
Zoro grunts, keeping his eyes closed and haki scanning.
“I don’t mind being woken up, I’m not as grumpy as Usopp,” Franky plops down beside Zoro and the swordsman creaks his tired eye open. He scans the tall man, finding him looking strong and at ease, no visible injuries.
“How’s the ship?” Zoro asks, eye tracing Franky’s outline against the too-bright sun. They’d taken some damage leaving Fishman and he’d hardly seen Franky besides meals as he was in the bowels reenforcing sections.
Franky beams, “she’s as super as ever. Nothing got too damaged and we stocked enough cola for about six months back on Fishman!”
Zoro nods. Good. The ship is sturdy. If anything does happen, Sunny can take a good beating before they’re in serious trouble. He should’ve thanked Releigh and the Rosy Life Riders for guarding her for those years.
Zoro closes his eye again and Franky stands with a loud groan and creak of machinery and artificial joints.
Zoro waits for his retreat, but Franky lingers, “seriously, Zoro-bro. Wake me next time, you hear?”
Zoro doesn’t respond.
♒︎ 𓆝♒︎ 𓊝 ♒︎ 𓆟 ♒︎ 𓆞♒︎
They have a long stretch until a new island, according to Nami and her log pose. And long stretches call for a lot of free time and the cook protecting the food storage from Luffy when even more diligence. Long stretches also, according to Luffy, call for an ‘epic party.’
The crew gathers after dinner onto the deck, the setting sun casting the churning waves in a peachy glow. Franky carries out the fire pit and Usopp builds a stack of firewood, placing it inside and rattling on about proper fire-building techniques he learned during his time away by someone called Heracles.
“Oh! Let’s all swap stories! I wanna hear everything you guys did and where you were!!” Luffy jumps in place, sandaled feet slapping against the sturdy wood of the deck.
Sanji bursts from the kitchen, ladened with two trays of food. Chopper follows him out in Heavy Point carrying two barrels. Zoro’s mouth waters at the sight of the booze and he leaps up to help Chopper set them down. They all sit in a circle. After Usopp’s first strike of a match, the fire grows in size, devouring bits of paper and licking up the side of a sturdy log.
Sanji sets the array of foods beside the fire and cooes some nonsense about ‘ladies first,’ which Zoro ignores to grab for a shish kabob: skewered with bell peppers, tender and still smoking seaking meat, glistening mushrooms, and onion. Both his and Luffy’s hands are slapped away by the curlybrow, who snarls, “wait your turn, you heathens!”
Zoro glares, “you make up those stupid ladies-first rules only because you’re a pervert!”
“Those rules, you uncultured swine, are common knowledge! Ladies should be first in everything!” Sanji yells back.
“Then why aren’t they ever first to sleep with you?” Zoro retorts, “when was the last time a woman was actually interested in you?”
Sanji jumps to his feet and Zoro’s already there and unsheaths Kitetsu, who is singing with excitement. Fighting the cook always feels so good, so charged. The two challenge each other, every interaction is electric. Though Zoro finds the cook insufferable at times, he can’t help but (secretly of course) admire his strength. Sanji was one of the reason’s Zoro pushed so hard on Kuraigana Island
to become stronger, to be stronger than the dart brow idiot could even imagine.
“What would you know about sex, mosshead? What are you, still a virgin?” Sanji spins around, a flaming kick landing an inch away from his face, where Zoro yanks up Kitesu with a zinging block that rattles his arm.
“I have more experience than you could dream of. I bet all that crooning over women is to make up for never having one attracted to you!” Zoro swipes to Sanji’s left but the man leaps away, cartwheeling back to his feet.
“No one could be attracted to a sentient seaweed with an ugly mug!” Sanji aims a kick at his ribs which he dodges, striking his sword outward. The others laugh and Chopper cautions them not to fight so near the fire.
They bicker and spar and Zoro’s stomach aches as he tries not to think about Sanji’s comment and the others' laughter. He knows that he’s not that attractive. Knows that people don’t look at him and fall into a state of lust or whatever. And it’s never really bothered him. But what makes Zoro feel so winded is that Sanji always has something to say about Zoro’s ugliness. He’d make jabs at his hair, his face, how he’s covered in scars, and his scowl.
In the two years away, Zoro had too much time on his hands to think about his crew. He felt gouged open most days, pieces of him yanked free. And the desperate way he missed them had his thoughts morphing into the dangerous what-ifs. What if Zoro had been faster, better, and beat Kuma back in Thriller Park? What if they all realized that he’d failed as their protector and would leave him behind on Sabaody? What if Luffy, who had none of his nakama by his side to save Ace, finally understood that Zoro was just a useful tool. He begged Mihawk, forehead against frigid tile, to teach him, to sharpen him. A dulled blade could not be the world's strongest and should not be on the pirate king’s ship.
And what about the cook? Would Sanji only see him drenched in blood on the ruins of Thriller Bark? Does he think about Zoro? Zoro certainly spent too much time thinking about a certain stupid cook that he’s been in love with for years. He thought it was a crush early in their adventures. He fucked a lot of blondes at ports wishing it was just a crush. He hated himself for it, truly, but then he got to know the cook and his crush developed into affection, or love, enough that he still wants to be with the painfully straight asshole who hates his guts. It was a shitty realization, and while away, Zoro had nowhere to put these feelings. Now, at least, he can spar with Sanji, can gripe and call each other names. When he’s this close to the cook, watching his powerful muscles flex behind his crisp suits, Zoro can go back to pretending that Sanji’s flourished kicks mean more than blowing off steam at his least favorite crewmate.
Thriller Bark cemented those feelings for Sanji deep in his chest. Seeing the man jump in to defend Zoro against Kuma, to sacrifice himself in place of Zoro… It was the first time the swordsman thought about losing the cook, actually. And after Sanji bodily hauled Zoro away from the blood-spattered ground, all those hours of pain later, the cook stayed beside him as he was in and out of consciousness. Awaking to Sanji’s sea-blue gaze, Zoro anchored himself on Sanji’s shores.
Stupid, and delusional, but Zoro still grins ferally at the cook as they dance around one another, trading hits and kicks, barbs, and insults.
Nami’s fists come down on both of their heads and they pull apart, rubbing their scalps. She yells, “if you morons can stop fighting for two seconds I’ll give you some booze, otherwise, your debts will skyrocket!”
They both glance at one another and it’s enough to agree to a truce, for booze and Nami’s sake.
Zoro sits back down and takes the cup Chopper hands him, taking a sip of the sake with a gratified sigh. He’d given up booze while he trained with Mihawk. And man, it’s good to feel the lightness in his stomach again. Plus the added effect of his tolerance plummeting and allowing him to get wasted much faster.
The fire’s really going now, roaring merrily in the pit and Zoro watches it for a while as the crew begin swapping stories.
Nami goes first, recounting her time on Weatheria. There’s a sparkle in her eyes as she recounts the things she learned, the sky island, and her adventures. She’d gotten stronger too, a better fighter, and better able to control and leverage the Clima-Tact. Usopp and her nerd out over the device and she even shows a few of her moves, to clapping and cheers from the group.
Zoro takes a long pull from his sake cup, then claps at Nami’s demonstration. His elbow spikes in pain and he swallows a grunt to keep his face neutral.
Usopp goes next.
Zoro tries not to shift too much in his uncomfortable position on the deck. Usually he can lay out on the deck for hours without any pain, but his lower back is already groaning and he longs to rest it on something instead of activating his aching core to keep him upright.
The stupid pain in his shoulders and spiking down his elbows doesn’t help. He tries to find a comfortable position sitting crossed legged but it puts strain on his ankles and knees. He waits until Usopp is at the pinnacle of his story and everyone’s attention is directed his way, then he scoots to lean against a nearby crate, which puts him closer to Robin. Luckily whatever’s in the crate is heavy enough to take his slumped weight. He lets out a barely-there sigh, and Robin glances at him, offering one of her mysterious smiles. He frowns at her and pointedly looks away, scooping up his cup and taking a long swig.
The sake burns down his throat and settles bubbly in his stomach. His head feels floaty from only one cup. It’s nice to take so little to feel so good. Well, to feel lighter at least. His aching body stops him from enjoying the floating feeling entirely.
Franky, Brook, and Chopper’s stories last another hour, and Zoro is sufficiently drunk on only 3 cups of sake. The crew is sprawled out now, having finished Sanji’s snacks besides Chopper who is toasting marshmallows and giggling when they set on fire. Warmth spreads in his stomach, a place deep and unreachable in the past two years. He realizes belatedly that he’s happy, fully and completely. He is back with his crew, his nakama. He’d missed his family so much, strove every day at Mihawk’s Castle to be better for them, to never fail them again. And now they’re all back and he must put what he learned into practice.
And according to all their stories, they have all grown so much. Zoro grins as Chopper talks about the encounters onTorino Island. He’s so proud of them all, for surviving and, in some cases, thriving while away.
Luffy recounts his adventure on Amazon Lily and Zoro rolls his eye about ten times from Sanji’s cooing and wishing he was on an island full of women. He throws his empty paper cup at Sanji, calling him a perverted idiot and Nami has to stop the two from fighting again.
As Luffy goes on, the air around the ship turns cold. He talks of Ace’s imprisonment, of Impel Down, Buggy and Mr. 3 and Bon Clay and Iva. All helping him to free Ace and themselves. He talks about his battle with Majellen. He speaks of Bon Clay’s sacrifice, inching closer to what they all read about in the papers. Zoro’s gut twists. He regrets drinking so much when Luffy talks of Akainu punching a hole through Ace’s chest. Him dying in his brother’s arms.
Luffy’s crying, but also still smiling, and Zoro can’t fathom it. The strength Luffy holds, his capacity for love is boundless and it shines so brightly Zoro is often blinded.
Zoro stands with a grunt when Luffy pauses after telling them about his breakdown in front of Jimbe. He takes a breath and wipes his eyes and Zoro sits down beside him, as his sore backside meets the hard deck. He offers Luffy his arm. His captain smiles, a glimmer in his eyes, and he wraps his arm twice around Zoro. The pain in his elbow and shoulder dulls with the grounding pressure and Luffy’s tenseness leaks from him until he’s leaning his whole body weight on Zoro; and Luffy is heavier now, stockier and with much more muscle than two years ago. His straw hat brushes Zoro’s hair and the group sighs, like letting out toxic gas. They’d all been tip-toeing around the subject of Ace, how none of them were there. Zoro knows they all carry the wound of it.
Zoro doesn’t apologize like some of the others, Luffy knows that he would be there, would have given up his life for Ace’s if he could. Luffy knows how they all bleed from that same wound.