#i just like when the tables turn and its sanji whos annoying and picking on zoro | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

laws-yellow-submarine · 4 years

Text

A Special Kind of Magic

I know it’s literally the last day for One Piece of Summer stuff, and I’m one of the people hosting it, but I really wanted to write this and it fits and it’s within the deadline soooo here ya go lmfao I have a lot of writing I wanna get done this week, and I feel pretty good about this, so I’m hoping that confidence and drive continues! @doctorgerth feel free to add this to your masterlist if you’d like!

Characters: Zoro/OC (Hazel, and it’s really more hinted at lol)

Word count: 1440

Might actually consider adding this into Together With Fruit at some point if I feel it fits well enough, but otherwise it’s considered non-canon to the fic; timeline placement would be post Arlong Park, pre-Loguetown!

"Hazel! Look at this!"

Hazel blinked at the sheet being shoved in her face, taking a step back to see it clearer. Luffy continued waving it through the air, his enthusiasm getting in the way of any common sense he may have (and there was very little to begin with). "Well stop waving it around, you noodle, and let me see it!"

"Fireworks!" The boy said instead, pulling the advertisement away to beam at her with wide, excited eyes. "We have to go! CanweCanweCanweCanwe-!"

"Alright!" Hazel shouted, though there was laughter in her voice. "I'd double check with Nami first, though. The way the wind's been blowing has me nervous."

Luffy nodded, taking back off through the galley door to find their navigator. Hazel watched him go with a smile on her face before turning back to her notebook, sucking her cheek between her teeth as she stared at the page. Two hours and the sentence had yet to write itself.

She heaved a great sigh, sliding her hands down her face and pouting at the wall. Maybe a fireworks show was just what she needed.

Nami gave them the all clear about two hours before sundown, and the pirates excitedly decided to make a picnic out of it. This meant they needed to pick up extra supplies. They split the job evenly: Nami and Usopp would procure a picnic blanket, sparklers, and find the perfect spot on the beach to watch the fireworks from. Sanji and Luffy would find food and plan the meal (much to the cook's dismay as he watched the navigator turn away with a wink). That left Hazel and Zoro with the most important task: booze.

"Don't get more than we need, and stay close to the beach! I'm not missing the fireworks just because we had to come looking for you two!"

The pair merely rolled their eyes at the girl's scolding. "Just don't move the ship this time and we'll be fine," the swordsman whined, already squinting against the verbal lashing Nami gave him.

"That has never happened! Just - don't get lost!" And she turned away, grabbing Usopp by his overalls, and stomped down the street.

"What's her problem?" Zoro asked, scratching his ear as the two walked away. Hazel laughed and shook her head, grabbing him by the elbow in an effort to lead him to the nearest bar.

"She just worries," she said, enjoying the pink in his cheeks at that notion. "Come on, let's hurry so we don't miss anything!"

Unfortunately for them, it appeared everyone in town had also decided on a picnic. The first three bars they went to were already sold out of their extra stock, and were either unable or unwilling to part with more. They wove their way through the town, getting farther and farther from the Going Merry. By the time they found someone with booze to sell, the two were on the complete other side of town.

"There you kids go!" The barkeep said, loading three full crates of beer into Zoro's arms. "It's a good thing you brought this strong fella along, huh Missy?"

Annoyed, Hazel took all three crates from Zoro, turning her nose up as she walked out the door without another word. "Alright, you've made your point," the swordsman said as he joined her outside. "Hand 'em over."

"No. My pride's at stake."

"You can't even see over them…"

Sure enough, the top of the pile reached just over her head, and to the passerby she probably looked like a walking box with purple curls. "Whatever! I don't need to see, I know exactly where we are!"

"Then lead the way."

He followed her down the street, the crowd parting for three beer crates on legs; they curved around building after building, until finally Hazel came to a stop and said: "We're back! See? Easy!"

"Uhh Hazel? Where are we?" The violet-haired woman peeked her head around her cargo, blinking in surprise when instead of a sheep figurehead and the smiling faces of her brother and crew, she saw only trees.

"Hey, who moved the dock?!"

"I told you to let me carry it. I should've led."

"You don't get to criticize me about getting lost!" She scolded, setting the boxes down to get a better look at her surroundings. It was beginning to get dark; the fireworks would be starting soon.

Nami was going to kill them.

"Ok, this is fine, we'll be fine…" Hazel muttered, spinning in all directions. Zoro stood back, waiting to step in if she started to spiral. Just as he thought she might lose it, the woman suddenly stopped, pointed in the direction she was facing, picked up the crates, and yelled: "This way!"

"Do you actually know which way you're going?" Zoro asked as he scrambled after her.

"Nope!" She answered cheerily. "But if we go this way, we may see something that'll help us figure out where we are!"

Before long the ground tilted beneath them, indicating a hill; Hazel declared this was perfect, as higher ground would give them a bird's eye view. Zoro only grunted, ready to get back to the ship and take a nap.

When they reached the summit, Hazel set the crates down and stretched out her arms. Her eyes scanned the sea below, turning in a circle as she looked for any signs of their ship. She felt Zoro step up beside her, his tanned skin brushing lightly against hers as he stepped just a little too close.

"Anything?" She shook her head.

"Nothing," Hazel groaned, biting her cheek as she pouted. Just then they heard a loud BOOM! and the night sky lit up in a shower of colorful sparks. They had a perfect view, high enough that the buildings couldn't block anything out.

As another cannon went off, Zoro sat on the ground, pulling Hazel from her awe when she heard the clinking of glass bottles. "What are you doing?"

"Why waste good booze?" The swordsman answered, offering her a bottle. She shook her head politely, preferring to stay sober until they found their way back, and she sat beside him as he began to drink.

The cliff continued to light up under the colorful fireworks display, while the pair watched in comfortable silence. Hazel glanced at her companion, mesmerized by the way the lights danced across his face.

There's a sense of magic one finds only in the clearest parts of the forest, when you find yourself free of society's expectations. It's a magic that touches your soul, reveals the deepest parts of yourself; and if you're not ready to receive it, you won't even know it happened.

As the fireworks built into a finale, that magic poked a curious finger into the pirates' hearts. Their eyes met, breaths held, and as the sparks danced across the night sky, so too they danced between the people sitting in that clearing. But, alas, they weren't ready, and as soon as the magic peeked its head in, it pulled right back out again. The fireworks disappeared, leaving behind a smattering of stars and confusion through the smoky haze left behind. The swordsman and the record-keeper stood, dusted themselves off, and strode towards the cliff's edge to once again look for their crew.

"Hey, wait! I think I see the docks!"

As the crowds left the beach behind, the wooden edge of the docks came into view. Hazel couldn't see much from where she stood besides the end of a pier, but at least they had a direction!

"How in the hell did you finish that whole crate? We weren't even here that long!" Zoro shrugged, smirking as he picked up each crate; she didn't even have the heart to scold him. Instead, she looped her arm in his, guiding him in the direction of the pier, grinning despite his protests.

She heard Nami's scolding long before she actually saw her, giving the girl a quick apology before heading inside the galley. Hazel smiled apologetically at Zoro as she left him to the navigator's wrath, and was surprised to find him softly smiling back. Shaking her head, she continued inside, padding over to the table.

Her notebook was still propped open, page just as empty as she'd left it; but this time when she picked up her pen, she found no resistance. Her hand moved across the page so quickly, you'd think she'd catch fire.

Though she hadn't been ready for the clearing's gift, it seemed she'd been left something magical after all, even if she didn't yet realize it.

#monkey d. hazel #roronoa zoro #zoro x oc #one piece of summer #summer writing challenge #together with fruit #twf

16 notes · View notes

taurnil · 3 years

Text

Overgrown Garden

He hates the cook, the moment they meet. He hates the cook because the blonde sounds like her, even more than the witch does.

He hates the cook, because the cook has the same eyes as her, all tidal waves and flashing blues one moment, then calm seas the next. The first time he sees the cook, Wado hums in his hands and Zoro blinks like a deer in headlights because all he can see his Kuina.

She walks step for step behind the chef, and when Sanji slides by, groveling in front of Nami like the horn dog he is, Zoro thinks he sees Kuina wink playfully, before disappearing as though she were never there.

Like she hasn't been for eight years.

The longer Zoro stares, the more confused he gets. They aren't alike, not in the slightest. Sanji seems to see and covet everything in a woman-- in this ideal of women-- that Kuina always hated and that Zoro hates by extension.

Sanji smokes cigarettes, and Kuina would never ruin her lungs in that way. Its incomprehensible, completely unthinkable for fighters like them, who's techniques depend greatly on their breathing.

Its even more strange to see the blonde take up such a habit, when his cooking hinges directly on his ability to taste. Zoro hears a voice whisper that he does the exact same thing with his inhuman alcohol consumption and he snorts, mentally telling her to shut up.

Well, he supposes that's something Kuina and Sanji seem to have in common. They annoy the ever living shit out of him.

He watches as the blond flits from table to table, hands so skilled in their craft of cooking and serving that it was almost impossible to compare them with the pale long fingers soaked in crimson, holding up a man nearly twice his size.

Zoro feels a tickle in the back of his throat as he jumps out of his seat and makes his way out of the restaurant and to the open ocean-- where Mihawk is waiting. He steals a mug of ale-- a shot of courage, perhaps-- as he glides past a table, ignoring the old man's cry of complaint and throws the doors open.

He meets the gaze of the infamous man, and he asks himself if he's ready to die. He thinks of Kuina, training day and night, strong. Stronger. Always the best. Zoro knows that if it were Kuina in his place right now instead of him, then there'd be a new strongest swordsman. Somewhere inside, he realizes that he's not ready.

The fight is brief, so brief that it is in fact, nothing short of a merciful slaughter. Through the haze of fog and blood and frustration, he hears a strangled yell.

"Just give up on your ambitions!"

It slices through the sounds of his heartbeat and his pulse thrashing and even in the midst of accepting death over defeat, Zoro feels his blood begin to simmer dangerously. Because how dare the blond tell him to give up, when this is all he's been chasing. There is no purpose, if there's no sword fighting. He simply is nothing without Kuina.

Mihawk seems impressed, and he offers Zoro his respect, dealing the last blow with careful precision and a tiny smile gracing his stony features. He falls back into the ocean and the last thing he sees is Sanji's hunched figure. The sight makes his heart wrench in an unfamiliar, painful way, and he finds himself apologizing quietly to the open air.

His vision is darkened around the edges, he thinks he hears his beloved childhood friend tell him to find another purpose. To find something for himself, and only himself. Zoro remembers the boy with dark hair, and worn in straw hat. He remembers gifting the kid with the title captain with chest heaving Zoro smiles, tears falling down his cheeks, mingling with blood.

He declares his life, blade, and loyalty to the 2nd Pirate King. The boy who could stretch, who Zoro knows without knowing how, will shake the world to its core, as his own name reaches the heavens.

Its possible, also, that he vows to make the blond smile one day, to make up for the mess he caused.

Zoro realizes, albeit belatedly, that perhaps Sanji is unaware that he doesn't hate him. And that, in turn, the chef can hardly stand to be in his presence. It fills the swordsman with unease, he doesn't like the disappointment that follows every harsh insult. He doesn't like the very real, very serious way that Sanji snarls whenever he's near, and the way he makes it absolutely clear that Zoro only gets fed because of decent morality. They are not friends, and the knowledge makes his throat tighten, air way blocked and a sensation like dragging thorns.

The swordsman is miffed, and responds using the same energy he receives, throwing jibes as quickly and fluently as he receives them. He makes fun of the chef's eyebrow as much as he can because it is the only imperfection that he can spot and that baffles the 19 year old.

On a logistic level, he knows all of Sanji's bad habits. He can list them off, even in his sleep, but when faced with those tumultuous eyes, those eyes that scream they suffer, he can only pick the least inconsequential characteristic.

Luffy notices, and corners him. Luffy's eyes are dark and his voice grave as he says, "Sanji isn't ready yet. He doesn't get it." and its scary how well his captain knows him. Its downright terrifying to be seen through so easily, with such little effort.

Sanji comes, Sanji goes, more consistent than the tides and Zoro can't help but continue to make metaphors because there is nothing more fitting for the chef than the ocean. They are one in the same, so shifty and yet steadfast. The swordsman has no idea what to make of it, the way the chef seems to scramble his feelings with the same ease as an egg.

The thought of Sanji leaving him is so painful he almost doubles over, spending the day picking fights with the chef, relishing in each small, solid touch. Taking comfort in each kick and the following knowledge that the chef is here and not another phantom that will slip through his grasp.

Zoro clutches his heart and wonders if this is what love is like. A constant state of fear and worry, coupled with the rush of standing at the edge of a cliff.

He is falling. He is scared, so scared. The last person who fell had died.

Zoro is not afraid of death. Zoro is not afraid of falling. He is afraid of what might happen in the slim to none chance that the chef begins to slip as well.

So Zoro pushes him away. Far away from the edge, away from the precipice.

He is only like this with the chef, always careful with his words, despite what it appears from the outside. Luffy knows, because Luffy always knows and he doesn't like it. But Zoro doesn't care, and keeps his distance.

Always watching, studying. He learns by watching the cook. He learns that the blond's grace is not natural, it is forced, movements careful and contained, folded inwards and kept small. He learns that the blond, despite broadcasting his masculinity, treats his body in the stereotypical actions of a woman. He sits with his legs closed, fusses over his appearance and fawns over compliments sent his way like a demure village woman.

Sanji makes himself smaller and Zoro learns in Thriller Bark that its because he think's that others deserve the space more.

Its a ridiculous notion, a conclusion only someone as stupidly selfless as the cook could come up with. He shields the swordsman, offering his head and the 19 year old feels a thrum of panic.

This sacrifice is completely different from his own. This sacrifice is born from a sense of inferiority and worthlessness. This sacrifice is Sanji finally making himself small enough for the rest.

Sanji is saying goodbye.

Sanji is falling, but not in the way he wants, not in the way that matters. Sanji is falling into despair, Sanji is falling into self depreciation. Sanji is falling into himself, crumbling away from the inside. Sanji is going, going, sand slipping between his fingers so Zoro runs, Zoro surges forward and snatches the blond by his arm.

Without his consent, or maybe it's some hidden part of him, the part that he tries to gag and shove into the recesses of his mind. The part that fed him dreams and gave his heart hope. Perhaps it is that part that grants his body permission.

Allows him to finally grab Sanji's hand in his own, watch the blond's smug expression at having finally gotten his death wish granted, only for it to turn to shock when Zoro grabs fistfuls of the black suit jacket, straddling the chef and shoving their lips together in a messy clash.

The sensation of euphoria that he feels is unlike anything he's ever experienced in his life, which was says something considering the fact that Zoro is pretty sure they're doing it all wrong. Sanji hands are stiff and awkward on his back, tentatively stroking up and down as though he were a troubled teen in need of comfort. And are their noses supposed to be mashed up like that?

Let alone the fact that his arms are starting to cramp up from the odd bent angel they're in, still clutching the fabric.

It's totally armature, without a doubt. But Zoro finds that it's still ranked as the best feeling in his whole life, second only to the time he once came close to beating Kuina.

He knows that Kuma is there, that Luffy is knocked out, that if they don't act soon their captain will be dead. He knows there's no time, so he rakes his eyes over Sanji's flushed, bloody face and stokes creamy blond locks.

"Don't leave." He whispers, burying his face in crook of the chef's neck. "I love you. Don't leave me behind."

Like a coward, he knocks Sanji out, before the latter can respond.

He stands, facing Kuma and prepares to die.

Zoro never did make Sanji smile.

1 note · View note

dontaskmewhyiwrite · 5 years

Text

Mystery Knight

One Piece, LawLu Word Count: 6313 Rating: T (for language) Genre: Fluff, Modern!Au, Adventure

Summary: Law will remember the first snow of that year. After all, it’s not everyday you meet a stranger who takes you out for a night of adventure.

Law’s feet pound against the pavement, further aggravating his headache as he sprints towards the train station. He bypasses the security guard, flashing his transport card as he speeds by, barreling through the other pedestrians. The sounds of his own footsteps echo against the bare walls. His teeth ache.

As he flies down the staircase, he looks up long enough to notice the subway doors slowly closing. He wills his feet to move faster, but before he can reach them, the train begins to slide out of the station. He watches his last hope rattle away.

“Dammit!” Law rubs at his pounding headache. At this rate, he’ll have a migraine in no time.

“Miss the train?” a high voice asks behind him. Law refrains from spinning around and decking the stranger in frustration.

“If I take a cab to- no, the main road is blocked off for the night because of construction. Fuckin’ great timing, and the detour adds another two hours. If traffic’s nice. No way I’ll make it in time. How about-” He flicks through his phone, looking up traffic and estimated detour times. As he figured, the recent construction has blocked the only road that would get him there fast enough. The next fastest route will be too late. He might as well wait for the morning train. It might be a long shot, but there’s a possibility he could still make it if he takes the first one. A minute possibility.

“Tryin’ to get to Punk Hazard, huh? You’re probably best off waiting ‘till morning,” the intruder comments, peering over Law’s shoulder. Law grinds his teeth.

“Thank you for stating the obvious. Don’t you have something else to do?” he growls, shrugging his shoulder in an attempt to push the kid away.

“Not really. ‘Sides, you look lost. And lonely. I’ll keep you company!”

Law pinches the bridge of his nose, willing this annoyance and his headache to leave. Do people enjoy making his life more difficult?

“I’m not lost. And I’m not lonely. Go away,” he orders, taking a few steps away from the guy and returning to his phone. He halfheartedly searches the bus times, knowing it’s futile.

“Not sure what you’re expecting from the buses that taxis can’t do. Wanna get something to eat? Food makes everything better. Especially meat! Let’s get some meat!” The stranger grabs his arm, forcefully pulling Law towards some restaurant or cafe or other food location. Law staggers behind, momentarily caught up trying to keep his balance before he manages to pull away.

They’ve made it back to the stairs before Law regains his balance and yanks back, wrenching his arm out of this nuisance’s surprisingly strong grip.

Who is this stranger to just drag him along like that?

“What the fuck?” he asks, not particularly expecting a response. The stranger tilts their head, looking confused.

“You don’t want meat?” they wonder, brow furrowed in confusion. Law finds himself pinching the bridge of his nose again and stops.

“No,” he retorts, putting as much venom into that one word that he can. Unfortunately for him, his stomach decides in that moment to give a loud growl. The stranger turns to take his arm once again.

“Shi shi shi, you’re so weird! If you’re hungry, you eat meat! C’mon, I know a good place!” he offers, holding his hand out like Law’s gonna take it and let himself be whisked away.

“Even if I am hungry, I don’t want to eat with a total stranger. I can find my own place, so fuck off.” Law flips the middle finger and pushes past the stranger. This does not deter the vexation. Instead, he follows along, asking exactly where Law will be going.

“I know all the places here, I’ll tell you if it’s any good! Especially the meat, I know all the meat! C’mon, where you headed? Not that there are many places open now. It’s late! Most of them are closing! Except, the place I know! It’s open, and we’ll get in quick!” He follows behind Law with little regard for personal space, chattering at a speed that doesn’t allow for conversation. Not that Law plans on responding.

The crisp night air greets them as they step onto the street. Despite the late hour, there are still people milling about, guided by the frequent street lamps and humming neon lights. Sabaody is truly a city that never sleeps.

Beside him, Law’s new ‘friend’ continues to babble. Exasperated, Law considers his options. He could try violence, but there’s too many people still strolling about. Running from the police would only further delay him. He could also try slipping away and hoping he loses the pest, but it sounds like that might be difficult. Also a delay he doesn't need. He decides on the only course of action he thinks might succeed.

He points towards the first place with a glowing “OPEN” sign.

“I'm going there. Goodbye.” With that he walks off, headed in that direction.

“You sure?”

“Yes, so fuck off.” Law marches resolutely forward, hands pushed deep into his coat pockets. The few people headed in the opposite direction choose to give him some space, unlike the dolt beside him.

“If you’re sure that’s where you wanna eat?” they repeat, and Law grinds his teeth together. He elects to ignore the meddler, in a vain attempt to dissuade them from following.

It doesn’t take him long to reach his intended location, and he quickly sees why he was asked if he really wanted to eat here. The bar is packed, with people even standing outside holding drinks and trays of chips. Throbbing music fills the night air every time the door opens. There’s a handwritten poster pasted on the door that advertises some event.

Next to him, the stranger grins.

“You suuuuure you wanna eat here? Looks crowded, and the food doesn’t even smell good. No meat. Trust me, the place I know is suuuuper good. Best in town. You’ll wanna go there every time you’re nearby. Can’t say much for the staff, but the food is the best ever! Besides Sanji, but it’s where he learned, so that makes them equal. It’s really good!”

Around them, any remaining restaurants are closing. Law stares at the bar, briefly considering if it would make a better alternative to the incessant nagging. Nearby, a drunk vomits. The stranger continues to pester him about choosing an alternative location.

Law pinches the bridge of his nose.

“All right, already! If I get food, will you leave me the truck alone?” He spits without thinking, then immediately regrets it as the stranger’s face lights up.

“Meat!” With Law’s consent now, the straw hat-wearing stranger grabs him once again and starts winding through crowds and past closed restaurants. Law pulls away once again, but it doesn’t seem to upset his guide. At least they stop trying to grab for him. Eventually the stranger stops in front of a mid-sized family restaurant and pulls the door open, practically shoves Law inside. They follow close behind.

The place has a nice atmosphere,with dim lights and a delicious smell wafting through. It’s fairly busy, considering the hour, though perhaps that’s due to it being the only decent place open for a few blocks. A small queue is lined up along the wall. Law is pushed forward a bit, before the stranger decides he’s being too slow and walks around him.

“Table for two, please!” they announce to the host, who immediately looks alarmed. He finds the stranger and scowls.

“You! I thought you were told not to come alone!” The host growls, pointing an accusing finger.

“I’m not alone! I said, TABLE FOR TWO!” The stranger yells obnoxiously. The host rubs his ear with a grimace and looks uncertainty at Law. When Law doesn’t deny being the plus one, he begins leading them into the restaurant. Strawhat wraps a hand around Law’s arm and forcefully pulls him along with their powerful grip.

To Law’s surprise, they are taken to a private room located in the very back of the restaurant and labeled with a “Reserved” sign. The room is secluded from the rest of the guests, just within sight of the kitchen. Its furniture is a tad better maintained, and there’s a bell for signaling when service is needed. The single light above them is dimmed to a pleasant hue, allowing for intimacy without being romantic or suggestive. As the barrier is put up behind them, the bustle and rumble ebbs to a light murmur.

“This is some high-class treatment for having been nearly kicked out,” Law comments, glancing at the stranger. Their pouring over the menu, though they doesn’t look like they’re actually reading it. Rather, aren’t they just drooling over the pictures? They’re softly whispering “meat,” but Law’s fairly certain they aren’t aware of it.

He takes the time they’re distracted to study the stranger. They look young, at least younger than Law, but if Law had to guess, perhaps not as young as their appearance would suggest. Their straw hat is strapped around their neck, giving them a bit of a farming kid’s vibe, but it’s paired oddly with an red hoodie and a pair of mid-calf length blue pants. The flip flops just add to the oddity, and Law finds his headache returning the more he tries to understand, so he turns to the menu instead. Most of the food on the menu is fairly standard for the area, though Law sees a few items that catch his attention. He settles on the swordfish steak just as the waiter appears, already looking annoyed.

“Strawhat,” he greets, though it’s more of a warning. “What’re ya interested in today? Oh, wait, let me guess: ya want every meat item on the menu, as usual?” he glares, daring the stranger - Strawhat - to agree. Strawhat just laughs. “See! You understand! Meat is the best!” Obviously they doesn’t realize the waiter is being sarcastic, or don’t seem to care.

“You know the rules! Pick one - ONE - item, Strawhat. One!”

Strawhat pouts, staring down at the menu for a bit, before pointing to a picture. “That one, then! And lots of it!”

The waiter scowls. “No.”

Ignoring Strawhat’s whines and complaints, the host turns to Law, his expression softening into more of an apathetic stare. “And you?”

Law orders the swordfish steak and a glass of wine, and the waiter quickly escapes the barrage of orders for extra meat.

“Would you even be able to eat all of that?” Law asks, setting his menu aside. Strawhat immediately confirms that they would be able to eat it all, and more, and starts to rant about meat and it’s deliciousness. Law lets them talk, not particularly paying attention as his thoughts start to wonder back to his current dilemma. He’s not sure he’ll be able to get to Punk Hazard in time for the surgery, and if he misses this one… He rubs his temple.

“You all right?” Strawhat asks, stopping their monologue to lean over the table until their in Law’s space.

“Yes, I’m fine. Back the fuck off.” Law pushes Strawhat’s face away without much success, as they push back against Law’s hand.

“You sure? You look upset, like you’re worried, or somethin’.”

Law sighs. It’s futile. “I’m fine, and even if I wasn’t, that isn’t your fucking business, is it?”

“Sure it is. You’re my friend!”

That… isn’t what Law is expecting. “You don’t even know me! I’m not your friend!” But Strawhat doesn’t seem to care.

“Do you need some meat? I’ll tell them to hurry up. Meat solves everything.” Before Law can protest, Strawhat is ringing the bell obnoxiously and poking their head out, yelling for the waiter, who immediately scowls upon seeing them.

“What do you want, brat?” He yells as soon as he’s in earshot.

“Meat! Bring it faster!”

The waiter rolls his eyes and leaves, ignoring Strawhat’s cries for their food to arrive more quickly. Strawhat sits back down, to Law’s relief, and pouts.

“How rude, he didn’ even listen.” Law shouldn’t be surprised at them sticking their tongue out in the general direction of the waiter, and yet he still is.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. How did he end up in this mess?

A warm hand suddenly presses against his forehead, and Law looks up to see Strawhat a few inches away, seemingly trying to check his temperature with their hand. They don’t appear to know what their doing, but rather mimicking something they’ve seen done.

“Hm…. You’re warm,” they conclude and pull away. “You should drink something cold.”

Law doesn’t respond for a moment. This random kid whom he’s never met before is suddenly giving him medical advice? He’s so incredulous, Law actually starts to laugh. They must see this as a good sign, because Strawhat sits back looking pleased.

“You finally smiled!”

Law leans his head back, staring up at the wooden ceiling. Yeah, he supposes that he did smile, for a moment. When was the last time he laughed?

When was the last time someone tried to take his temperature with their hand?

Before he can start to become nostalgic and think of the way things were, the waiter arrives with his wine, bringing him back to the present. Strawhat eagerly takes their own drink - a fruit juice, from the looks of it - and begins noisily slurping it down.

“So? What’s gottcha worried?” Strawhat asks again around a plastic straw. In a moment of impetuousness, Law tells him.

“There’s a surgery that’s gonna happen at 7 AM tomorrow, and the kid that’s going into the surgery is a patient of mine. He’s a good kid, and I promised him I’d be there.” Law sighs as he thinks about missing the surgery. His brow furrows as he recalls exactly why he was running late.

There’s a moment of silence, and Law looks up, finally meeting Strawhat’s eyes. Only, they aren’t looking at Law, but towards the kitchen. Probably thinking about the food that hasn’t arrived yet. Law almost laughs again, wondering what he was expecting from this food-obsessed stranger. Sure enough, Strawhat perks up.

“Food’s here!” they announce before the waiter has even arrived. A moment later, the barrier is pulled back and their dishes are placed on the table. Strawhat begins eating before the waiter has even left. Law follows, deciding to enjoy the swordfish steak instead of worrying or getting annoyed.

Unsurprisingly, Strawhat finished their meal in a matter of minutes, and clamor for more food every time the waiter passes by. Law’s fairly certain that whatever mechanism their bell is hooked up to has been disabled, judging by the lack of response to Strawhat’s ceaseless ringing. The chaos is a welcome distraction, and the food is excellent. By the time the bill arrives, Law’s feeling that perhaps letting a complete stranger drag him to an unknown restaurant late at night wasn’t as much of a mistake as he’d been expecting. He’s almost sad to see the odd eccentric go, though not enough to actually stick around.

The waiter hands him the check directly, and partially out of pity for the poor employee, Law decides to cover the whole meal.

“Thank ya for eating at the Baratie. Have a nice day, and please, don’t return," the waiter says as he returns Law’s card. Strawhat ignores the slight and grabs Law's arm, pulling him out of their little room.

"C'mon, we gotta get you to your place before that kid leaves!" It's lacking details, but Law is surprised at the fact that Strawhat was paying attention enough to remember even that.

"Right..." he agrees, trying to pull away as Strawhat tugs him further into the restaurant. Wait, further?

"Why are we doing deeper in?" Law furrows his brow, trying to think of a reason they would be headed towards the back kitchen instead of leaving out the front, like normal customers.

Strawhat isn't going to steal food, is he?

Law stops suddenly, nearly crashing into a waiter who's trying to slip around them. None of them seem to be concerned about Strawhat in the middle of their kitchen, despite the waiter and host's earlier behaviors, so Law reluctantly follows behind. He considers turning around and leaving, but Strawhat notices him lagging and wraps a vice like grip around his wrist.

"C'mon! We gotta hurry!" They urge, pulling Law a bit more insistently. "He’s gonna leave!"

"Leave?" Law wonders, stumbling behind. They head through the kitchen, the cooks greeting them as they pass and occasionally keeping Strawhat's wandering hands from taking more food. The cooks seem quite used to the stranger’s sticky fingers, and laugh as one of the head cooks yells at them for trying to steal food.

Before he realizes it, they've headed out the back of the kitchen towards where the cooks take their smoking break. Strawhat makes a beeline for what looks like the head chef, judging solely by the extremely large chef’s hat, who's crushing a cigarette underfoot..

"Hey! HEY! OLD MAN! WAIT!" He yells, sprinting forward to catch the departing waiter. Law nearly crashes into another employee, then barely keeps himself from face planting into the asphalt, before managing to pull himself out of Strawhat's grip again. By then it's a moot point anyway because they’ve successfully gotten the head chef’s attention.

"We need a ride! You're going towards Punk Hazard, right? C'mon, it's not difficult, you're headed that way anyway, give us a ride! C'mon, c'mon, give us a ride! Please? You'll give us a ride, right? Thanks, old man!" Without waiting for any sort of confirmation, Strawhat grabs Law's arm again and heads towards the muddy truck several feet away. They throw open the passenger side door and shove Law in, then clamber in after him. Much to Law's horror, it's only a two seat truck, and Strawhat plants themselves firmly in Law's lap, already chattering away about car rides. Law's first instinct is to try pushing the stranger off of him, but there's nowhere for them to go. In the end, he manages to squish himself against the door and the annoyance, sharing the seat between the two of them. It's a tight fit, but it's better than having someone sitting in his lap.

The driver climbs in, already ignoring Strawhat's incessant prattling, and starts up the truck. "Whatcha going to Punk Hazard for?" he asks, glancing at Law.

"Work," Law offers, then turns to stare out the window. The chef doesn't seem to take offense to his cold behavior, instead focusing on the road.

After a minute or so, the driver turns on the radio and pumps the volume up high enough to drown out Strawhat's rattling, though it’s effectiveness is debatable. Strawhat stops talking, instead singing along with the songs and humming along with the ones they don’t know the words to. At least they’re keeping themselves entertained, for now.

Law isn't sure when it happens, but at some point while he's staring out at the dark landscape passing by, Strawhat falls asleep. Perhaps it was sudden, Law wouldn't be surprised, but he becomes aware of a weight against his shoulder. Pressed against each other as they are, Law isn't surprised to find Strawhat's head resting there, the kid completely passed out. The driver turns the radio down to a low background noise, and Law drinks in the quiet. He realizes that it's the first time since arriving in Sabody that he's had an actual, quiet moment mostly to himself.

Unfortunately, it also means that he has room to think. His thoughts start to wander towards the morning that lays ahead of him. At this rate, even if he makes it on time, he's going to be exhausted. He hasn't slept in nearly 28 hours now, due to traveling all night and conferences and meetings and conventions all day. As he thinks about it, he finds his eyelids starting to become heavy, and the soft breathing of the body against his lulls him to sleep.

He doesn't sleep long. It can't be more than two hours later when the truck jolts, waking Law, and judging by the sleepy babble, Strawhat as well. The streetlamps burn his eyes, seeming too bright in the confusion of being startled awake.

"Are we there?" he mumbles, trying to stretch in the cramped space. Next to him, Strawhat rubs his eyes and yawns.

"As far as I can take ya. Wish I could get ya the rest of the way, but I gotta get home, ya know?" The driver turns off the truck and gets out, stretching as he stands in the crisp night air.

Law grumbles as he opens the door, pulling Strawhat out with him and nearly causing them both to fall.

"Wake up, will ya? C'mon, walk on your own," Law protests as Strawhat leans against him.

"Mmmnnnn... five mor' min'ues..." he replies, latching onto Law's arm. Law pinches the bridge of his nose. What a heavy sleeper.

"There's meat," he says calmly, and watches in slight disbelief as Strawhat immediately perks up, searching around intently.

"Meat! Where?" After a moment, he seems to realize that he's been duped, and he frowns.

"There's no meat!" he complains, glaring at Law. Law shrugs, unconcerned.

"Yeah," he agrees, then turns to the driver. "Thanks for the ride." The driver waves, indicating it wasn't a problem. He crushes his cigarette.

"Don’t mention it. As much flak as we give that one, we owe him a lot. Any friend of his is a friend of ours."

That wasn't what Law was expecting. He thought Strawhat was a nuisance? The driver must recognize his confusion, because he gives a low chuckle.

"He's a brat, for sure, and an annoying bastard, but as much trouble as he causes, he did us one hell of a favor. ‘Sides, you can’t truly hate the kid. Don't worry, you'll see what I mean soon enough," he snorts, patting Law roughly on the back.

"Well, see ya. Brat, take care!" With a final wave goodbye, the driver takes off, leaving the two of them at the rest stop. Only after the taillights can no longer be seen does Law realize that he is effectively stuck in the middle of nowhere with a highly annoying stranger.

"So, what now?" he asks, looking at Strawhat, who's still waving excitedly goodbye.

"Now we wait!" he chirps, heading into the gas station. The single employee sitting behind the counter glances up at them before resuming whatever he's doing on his phone. The two of them pay him about as much attention.

"For?" Law prompts, a sinking feeling settling into his stomach. Strawhat just laughs off his worries and begins perusing the aisles.

Law rubs his temples. He considers buying some aspirin or something, and after seeing Strawhat pick up as many packages of dried meat that he can hold - including in his mouth - he decides to buy two pill bottles, and a cold coffee.

As he's paying, Strawhat arrives with his hoard of dried meat and dumps them on the counter. Law sighs, but is about to hand over his card once again when several packages of sweet buns are added on top. He grimaces at the offending food.

"Absolutely not!" He instructs, gripping his bargaining chip tightly. Strawhat pouts but obediently removes the offensive foodstuffs, placing them back on the shelves, though perhaps a bit haphazardly.

In their place, several candy bars and sweets are brought over. Law can already feel himself regretting this, but he buys all of the items anyway. He downs three painkillers with some coffee and follows them with some of the offered dried meat. It's tough, but Law powers through it anyway. With their snacks procured, they head back outside.

The outside air nips at their noses, and the two watch as the very first snow of the year begins to fall, each snowflake melting before it can even touch the ground.

"Snow! It’s snowing!” Strawhat exclaims, momentarily abandoning his food to dance in the light flurry. He doesn’t stay away long.

"The weather is so tricky! It sneaks up on you, suddenly changing from warm to freezing!" Law decides not to comment on the fact that the temperature has been slowly dropping since they left the train station.

"Yeah."

He shakes his head and leans back, looking up at the stars littering the sky. The moon shines bright, bathing the scene in a soft white glow, even through the glare of the streetlamp. His breath fogs in front of him, momentarily obscuring his vision each time he breathes out. Strawhat munches on his snacks next to him, occasionally talking about whatever crosses his mind. Currently, he's describing some trouble he got into with his older brothers some time ago, though Law's taking it with a grain of salt. Can three people really get into that much 'accidental' trouble? Somehow, Law isn’t sure he is being told the entire story.

It hits him, as he laughs gently as Strawhat gestures wildly and smacks Law in the face, that he's growing less and less annoyed by the strange guy, and a bit more fond of him. Like finding a lost puppy that won't leave you alone. Strawhat shivers again.

“Cold?” he finds himself asking, despite the fact that it’s obvious. Strawhat just laughs.

They're almost entirely through the purchased snacks when headlights split the darkness and Strawhat jumps up, creating a mess of empty packages. Law stands as well, cleaning up he watches Strawhat jump around, waving wildly and occasionally picking up dropped packets of meat. He's still eating them, too. Law briefly wonders if Strawhat’s going to end up choking.

It's only a moment later when the vehicle arrives, a small beat up car that doesn’t look or sound entirely operational. The driver rolls the window down, looking highly annoyed.

"Well, brat. I'm here," they grunt, sounding the opposite of pleased. Law understands. Strawhat looks undeterred, as usual.

"Dadan! Thanks! We need to get to Pink Hazards by morning!" Strawhat opens the door and climbs in, pulling Law in after him. Nobody bothers to correct the mistake.

"C'mon, hurry! We can't be late! It's super important!" He urges, pulling half his body into the front seat for emphasis. "Yeah, yeah, I get it, brat. Sit the fuck down, wontcha, and we'll get goin'!" Dadan snaps, but Strawhat just laughs as he sits back.

"'Kay, 'kay!" He squishes himself against Law, looking very pleased. Law kicks him to the opposite side of the back seat.

"Don’t you have any sense of personal space?" Law grumbles. His question is ignored by Strawhat, but their new driver, Dadan, gives him a slight look of pity through the rear view mirror.

"Hey, hey, do you like gummy worms? They're the best! They're sour, and sweet, and they're the best! Well, except for meat. Meat's the best. Then sour gummy worms! Oh, right, they have to be sour. Otherwise they're not sour and sweet, they're just sweet, and those aren't as good. You want some?" Strawhat asks, though Law isn't sure why because he doesn't wait for an actual response before shoving sour gummy worms into Law's face.

"Try them! They're yummy!" Law backs as far away from the sweet as he physically can. He does actually like sour gummy worms, but having them force fed to him is not what he would call a pleasant experience.

"Would you-" he starts, but Strawhat is already trying to feed him a different candy. Licorice, from the looks of it.

"No thanks," he tries, shying away from more sugar. Thankfully, that actually seems to work. With a shrug, the stranger shoves the licorice into his own mouth.

For a blissful moment, Strawhat is completely distracted by the candy, the music, and the snow that’s starting to fall a tad heavier. Law takes a breather, his gaze returning to the passing scenery. Away from the bright city and it’s light pollution, the stars shine bright. The moon lights the path before them, illuminating the nearby trees, lulling Law's thoughts away from the present.

He remembers car rides like this from long ago, his sister curled up in the seat next to him, his parents talking softly in the front seat. Law and his sister would pass the time telling stories about the moon and the stars, like making up their own mythology. Her favorite nights were the ones where the moon shined the brightest.

When Law's attention returns to the present, he realizes it’s because he can feel someone watching him. He turns to see Strawhat studying him, his head tilted slightly.

"Why the fuck are you so weird?" Law comments out, squinting across the seat at him. Strawhat shrugs, still munching on sweets.

"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?" he asks, mouth still full of candy. That was disgusting. Law suppresses a shudder, turning away from the sight.

"None of your business," he retorts, turning back to the trees. At least the trees don’t care about what’s on his mind.

"Aww, c’mon. Tell me,” Strawhat whines, shifting closer. Law finds himself flinching and mentally curses.

"What’s it gonna take to get you to leave me alone?" he bargains.

Strawhat thinks for a moment, before his eyes light up.

“Tell me a story! A good one!” he demands.

How ironic that just a moment ago, he was thinking of a time his sister said the exact same thing. She’d stared up at him with her dark eyes, pleading for him to tell the same story he always tells whenever they have a long car ride during a full moon.

“I don’t know any,” Law replies, shrugging. Next to him, Strawhat pouts, but he ignores it.

In a shining example of juvenile behavior, Strawhat makes a big deal out of ignoring Law back, while still occasionally looking over to glare at him, then returning to his sulking. It’s almost humorous, it’s so superfluous. They drive in this forced tension for a while, the only sounds coming softly from the radio.

"We're here," Dadan says suddenly as they exit the trees and pull into what looks like an abandoned airport. The snow is cold enough to stick, at least for a moment, giving the giant landing pad a glistening sheen. Strawhat clambers out, shouting his thanks to Dadan and grinning at the insult he receives. Law follows, also giving a light thanks, and receiving a much warmer reply.

Dadan drives off and once again the two are left in the cold. Next to him, Strawhat continues to act petulant as he stubbornly keeps his back to Law.

After nearly ten minutes of relentless moping, during which Law watches Strawhat jump around to keep warm while still adamantly ignoring him, make snow angels while occasionally glaring at him, even play a one-man game of tic-tac-toe while grumbling about promises and hopes, he decides telling one story would be better than dealing with this insufferable annoyance.

“If I tell a story, will you stop?” Law yields, and isn’t surprised when Strawhat immediately runs towards him.

He sighs, regretting this already, and takes a seat on a cold tree stump. Strawhat plops down onto the ground, despite the snow. He’s soaked from snow angels and shivering already.

Perhaps it’s the nostalgia, or perhaps it’s working with so many ill children for so long, but Law finds himself pulling of his coat and dumping it on top of Strawhat’s head.

"Thanks! But won't you get cold?" Strawhat asks as he pulls the jacket on. Law shrugs.

"I'm wearing more layers than you," he points out, referring to the hoodie he wears as a shirt and his longer pants. Strawhat accepts the excuse easily.

"Thanks!" He says again, to which Law just nods. Staring up at the full moon, Law's pulled back to his previous reminiscence.

"A long time ago, when we used to go on road trips with our parents, my sister and I would make up stories about the moon.This one was her favorite.” He pauses, the wind whipping around the few strands of hair not tucked into his hat.

“There once was a knight that prayed every night to the moon, and the moon heard those prayers and fell in love. She transformed into a human to be with her love, but they were torn apart by the customs and laws of the land. So she learned the rules and the laws, and she became a princess, all for love. Yet it still wasn’t enough. Her love needed more, asked for more, demanded more, until the two of them were on top of the world. Seeing what her love had become, she knew that she could not stay. She returned when the moon was at its fullest, and from above she watched her love die.

During the full moon, when the moonlight is at its strongest, she still cries, and her tears will fall to earth as the first snow of the year." Law looks down to see Strawhat staring at him intently. He turns away.

"Never understood why that one was her favorite," Law shrugs, his reminiscing done for the night.

Before the conversation can move forward, a distant roar draws their attention, and a moment later a helicopter flies into view. As the volume becomes deafening, Law covers his ears, taking cover from the strong wind behind the nearby trees. The helicopter lands and a red haired man steps off with a wide grin. In his right hand are two headsets, which he hands to the two of them, then beckons them into the helicopter. He doesn't attempt to say anything, which Law finds reasonable considering he doubts they'd be able to hear it anyway.

They board the helicopter and don their headsets. The pilot greets them with a simple acknowledgement, and the moment they're strapped in he takes off. It's the red haired man that does most of the talking. Law recognized him as soon as he stepped out of the helicopter, but he hadn't believed himself. Hearing the guy talk, however, there's no doubt this is the millionaire and CEO of RedForce, one of the biggest companies in the world.

Strawhat and Shanks chat over the comms while Law tries to figure out who the person sitting next to him is, if he knows RedForce Shanks. At some point they try for introductions, but with Law not paying any attention to their conversation, they decide to skip those for now.

"You're lucky we happened to be free, brat! It's not easy being the CEO of a major corporation, you know?" Shanks is saying when Law finally tunes in. He hears Strawhat laugh, as carefree as always. After a moment, Shanks joins as well, much to the pilot's - whom Law recognizes as Benn Beckman, Shank's right hand guy - annoyance.

"You really should be doing paperwork, Red," Ben chides, but there's no heat behind it. It sounds like an old argument.

Shanks doesn't respond.

"We'll be there shortly. It's a pretty quick ride from that place to the hospital. It's the only place we'll be able to land anyway, so it's convenient that's where you wanna go. Why do you wanna go there? If it's a medical emergency, you shoulda called the police."

"He's a doctor!" Strawhat explains, and then doesn't elaborate. Shanks seems used to his lack of details, or doesn't need the details, because he makes an "aaah" sound and the conversation shifts.

"Your trouble making brothers still kickin'?" Shanks asks, inviting Strawhat to begin more recent tales of the trouble they've gotten into. Law half listens, though his thoughts start to wander away from their conversation again. Just who is this kid that he knows the CEO and founder of RedForce well enough to arrange for a helicopter? As far as Law can remember, Shanks doesn’t have any children, and he certainly hasn’t named an heir.

Also, when exactly did Strawhat call these people? And how? Law hasn't seen him pull out a cell phone or stop by a pay phone or do anything to contact them. Did he use telepathy?

Realizing how ridiculous he sounds, Law forces his thoughts to return back to the realm of possible. Sure, some weird things have happened tonight, but so far it's all been a collection of oddities surrounding one highly odd young man, and nothing that defies logic.

Benn's voice suddenly interrupts Law's thought process.

"We'll be landing shortly. Please be sure that your seat belt is properly fastened and all limbs and extremities are within the helicopter at all times. Please remain seated until I call that it is safe to exit."

After checking his seat belt, Law watches the hospital landing pad grow larger as they approach. He's ridden in many helicopters before, usually with a patient though occasionally on his own, so he's used to the procedure that follows. The moment that they're cleared, Law jumps down, turning to face the helicopter once he’s gotten a safer distance away. Strawhat grins back at him from the seat inside, but doesn’t move. He yells something, but Law can’t hear him.

“WHAT?!”

“WHAT’S YOUR NAME!” Strawhat yells a bit louder, and Law just barely catches the words.

“TRAFALGAR! TRAFALGAR D. LAW!” Law yells back as loudly as he can. The blades of the helicopter begin to pick up speed once again.

“WHAT ABOUT YOU?” he screams.

Strawhat yells something back, but it’s lost to the wind. He’ll never know the name of the mysterious stranger that dragged him along for a wild adventure. The helicopter takes off, Strawhat waving goodbye. Suddenly, Law realizes that his coat is also being carried away, probably never to be seen again.

Well, perhaps the adventure was worth one coat, even if it was his favorite.

@therealblackpearl, Merry Christmas! I’m so sorry this is a bit late, but it’s here! I hope you enjoyed a bit of LawLu fluff, and if I ever write the epilogue, I will tag you as well.

@onepiecesecretsanta2018

#opsecretsanta #onepiecesecretsanta2018 #therealblackpearl #i am so so so sorry this is technically late #i really wanted it to be something quality #but merry christmas!#i hope you enjoy some dumb lawlu #lawlu #op #modern!au #my writes #mystery knight #fluff #adventure

33 notes · View notes

bleachanimefan1 · 3 years

Text

King And Queen Of The Pirates Chapter Nineteen

Strongest Pirate Fleet! Commodore Don Krieg!

"Hey listen, pal. I'm the sous chef in this place," Sanji said. "What do you mean you don't need me anymore?"

"You fight with customers all time. You flirt with every woman and drool all over them, who walks through here. You can't even cook a decent meal," the old chef explained. "Your worthless to me, staying in this restaurant, that's what I mean."

"So?" Sanji replied. He gritted his teeth, embarrassed, as he saw some of the cooks began snickering at him, above the stairs.

"Oh and let's not forget how the other cooks avoid you like you were poison," Chef Zeff added. "So just run off and be a pirate whatever. Forget about this restaurant."

"That's how it is?" Sanji muttered. "You shoot out from the mouth and expect that I'm just going to take it old man. I can blow off everything that you said, but I won't let you trash talk my cooking. I'm staying here as a sous chef and that's final! Do you hear me?!" He shouted grabbing Zeff lifting him up to his face.

"What do you think you're doing, grabbing your boss by the collar!?" Zeff berated at him. "You ingrate!" He grabbed Sanji and tossed him. Zoro, Nami, Usopp, and Aya grabbed the plates just in time before Sanji crashed into the table, breaking it in half.

"Enough with the games. You can try to kick me out but I'm staying here to stay. I'm not going anywhere, old man," Sanji stated. "Not until you're dead and gone!"

"Dead, ha! I still got a hundred years left of kicking your ass left in me!" Zeff remarked, walking away.

"He's always got to have the last word," Sanji growled, annoyed.

"See! He's cool! Now you can become a pirate!" Luffy replied, happily.

"Shut up!" Sanji shouted.

He turned his attention back towards the crew's table. He placed down another table and set a cup down in front of Aya that was filled with different varieties of fruits, pouring her a drink as well. Aya's mouth dropped a little when she saw her favorite, strawberries. Her eyes began to sparkle with joy. "My apologies I hope I can make this up to you with this delightful fruit Macedonia, my queen." Sanji smiled. Usopp stared at the Sanji, with an angry look, not liking the attention the Sanji was giving to Aya, or the way he was staring at her. Zoro looked like he wanted to cut the chef to pieces, keeping a hand on one of his sword's hilt, ready to pull it out at any moment.

"Uh, thanks?" Aya blushed, and picked up a spoon and started to dig in. Sanji placed another glass filled with fruit in front of Nami, pouring a drink for her as well.

"And you too, my princess!"

"Oh! You're too kind, it looks wonderful!" Nami exclaimed, happily, smiling back. Usopp growled and stood up, stepping over to the blond chef.

"Hey, don't forget about us, Mr. Casanova!" he shouted. "We better get some kind of apology too!"

Sanji held a small cup of watered down tea in front of the sniper. "This tea should be more than adequate for you," the chef replied. "In fact, you should be thanking me."

"What?! You want to fight! You're gonna regret this!" Usopp shouted, then looked over towards the swordsman for some backup. "Take him out, Zoro!"

"You take him out," Zoro replied to him, taking a sip from his tea.

"Please, don't fight over me!" Nami said, stepping in between Usopp and Sanji.

"Of course, my dear!" Sanji replied.

"Who said it was about you?!" Usopp exclaimed, glaring at Nami, who ignored him. She motioned Sanji to come a little closer.

"I wanted to tell you," she started.

"What is it, dear?" Sanji asked.

"All of the food here is delicious, but its a little too expensive for me," Nami told him.

"Relax, for you two ladies, it's free!" Sanji grinned.

"Oh, thank you!" Nami said, happily, hugging the chef. Aya stared at him with an uncertain and confused look.

"Uh huh?" she thanked him as well. She was still uncomfortable of all of the attention that Sanji was giving her. She just wasn't used to it. What is this guy's deal?

"But, you guys still gotta pay though," Sanji said, turning his attention back to Zoro and Usopp.

"How very generous of you?" Zoro deadpanned. Usopp's mouth dropped in shocked. Luffy was sitting in the chair laughing. Sanji kicked him in the head. The blunt force stretched the straw hat captain's head.

"What are you sitting around for?!" Sanji shouted, dragging Luffy away from the group. "You're not here to lounge around."

"We've been sitting around here twiddling out thumbs for four days now!" Usopp complained. "How long do you think we're going to be here, anyway?"

"Who knows?" Zoro replied.

"Luffy said he'll stay a year, but I'm already so bored!" the sniper replied.

"Quit whining, this place is great," Nami said, turning to him. "Plus all of the food here is free!"

"Yeah, for you two it is," Zoro remarked. Aya's eyes widened in surprise, noticing the samurai's tone of voice. He sounded a little angry. Luffy walked out from the restaurant, carrying a huge pot. Usopp leaned over the ship.

"Hey Luffy!" he called out to Luffy. "What are we still doing here?! Come on, let's just get out of here!"

"Just sit tight a little longer. I'm gonna try and make another deal with the owner," Luffy told him.

"Well, hurry up!" Usopp shouted.

Suddenly, the wide began to pick up, blowing in an eerie mist of fog. Everyone saw a ship emerge through it heading towards the restaurant. The ship looked like it had took a beating and was in rough shape. There were holes on some parts of the ship, part the ship's figurehead was half blasted off, the sails were ripped and torn as well.

Everyone inside the restaurant, backed away from the windows, as they saw the ship pull up to dock.

"I told you! I knew those goons would show up!" One of the chefs shouted. "Are you gonna get rid of those guys or what?!"

"This can't be real! He's got a whole fleet with him. Why would Don Krieg come here to get revenge on just one guy?!" Patty shouted. "Doesn't be have anything better to do!?"

"He's here alright!" Another chef shouted at him.

"Guys, don't panic but I think that's our cue to leave right now!" Usopp said, nervously.

"Look at the size of that ship!" Nami exclaimed.

"What a huge ship! Do you then think Gin came back to repay you not his kindness?" Luffy asked Sanji.

"I seriously doubt that's it. There's something else..." Sanji said, staring at the ship with unease.

"Did they come through a hurricane or something? Their ship is a wreck," Luffy said, seeing the damage on the ship.

"It doesn't seem like the damage was inflected by cannons. In fact, it doesn't look man-made at all," Sanji explained.

"Then maybe it was a tornado hurricane?" Luffy replied. A dark shadow stepped over the ship's side staring down at the restaurant.

"There he is..." Sanji murmured.

Gin walked into the restaurant while carrying his captain, supporting him over his shoulder. All of the chefs and customers backed away as the two came in, staring at Gin and Krieg with fearful and cautious looks.

"I need food...and water," Krieg said, weakly. "We have money...lots of money. Please it's been so long I don't even remember the last that I've ate. Please sir, I need food and something to drink. I'm begging you."

"This is Krieg?" Luffy questioned, turning his head to the side in thought.

"Captain! Don Krieg!" Gin shouted. "Please help him! Our captain is on the brink of starvation! He could die. He hasn't had a single bite to eat for days. He'll die if he doesn't get food soon!"

"This is great! I haven't laughed that hard in a long time," Patty smirked. "The great Don Krieg, kneeling before us!"

"We have some money. We're here as customers this time!" Gin insisted.

"Do you really think that I'm that stupid?" Patty asked, then motioned for a chef. "Get a hold of the Marines right away!"

"What?" Gin said in disbelief.

"He's finally weak enough to be captured. This may never happen , and I'm not going to ruin it by helping him getting his strength back," Patty stated.

"He's right! Who knows what he'll do if he gets on his feet again!?" One chef exclaimed.

"He's done terrible things!" Another chef shouted.

"And as soon as he's up, he'll keep on doing it! I'd say we let him starve!" A chef shouted.

"Once he's back to normal, he'll kill every last person here in this restaurant! He won't get so much as a glass of water from me." Another one said.

"I won't do anything...I won't do anything," Krieg said, kneeling his head to the floor, pleading. "Once I eat, I promise that I'll leave quietly. So please, be merciful."

"Please, don't reduce yourself to this. You're better than a common beggar, please sir! What about your pride!?" Gin shouted looking down at his captain. Sanji walked past Luffy carrying a plate.

"I promise, please! I'll take the scraps, I'll take anything, anything!" Krieg pleaded.

"Boo hoo for the cruel pirate," Patty remarked.

"Hey, step aside Patty," Sanji slammed his foot against the chef's head, knocking him out of the way.

"S-Sanji!" Everyone one in the room stared in disbelief, including Gin. Sanji walked over to the two pirates and placed the plate down in front of Krieg.

"Here's something for your captain," Sanji said.

"Thank you, Sanji," Krieg thanked him, shoveling the food down his mouth as he ate. "Thank you! Thank you!"

"Fool! You get that food away from him right now!" One of the chef's shouted. "Do you realize that he's a cold heartless killing machine?! This is the man most well known from all over the East Blue! The most ruthless of all pirates! It all started back when he pretended to be a Marine, he decided to declare his pirate ambitions. He took command of the Marines vessel by killing their fleet officer. He would raise the Marine flag undercover then lay waste to the unsuspecting cities and passing ships there. He would show the white flag before attacking enemy ships. He'll do anything to secure a victory."

"That guy fights dirty," Luffy murmured to himself, watching Krieg.

"He also unmatched in physical combat. Do you think he'll just leave us alone!?" the chef continued to explain. "I've got news for you, that's not possible for a bloodthirsty killer like him. He deserves death!"

As he finished, Krieg placed the plate back down on the floor. A dark smirk appeared as he stood up. Within a flash, Krieg knocked Sanji down and he landed on the floor.

"Sanji!" All of the chefs shouted, including Luffy.

"This is not what we've agreed on! You gave me your word. I only brought you here because you promised that you wouldn't ruin this place! Or hurt the man who saved us!" Gin hissed, turning to his captain. Krieg reached out and grabbed Gin by his shoulder, squeezing it hard, lifting Gin up. Gin screamed in pain.

"Yeah, that was delicious. I feel so alive again," Krieg replied, dropping Gin. Gin fell onto to the floor, grabbing his shoulder in pain. All of the customers ran out of the restaurant screaming in fear. Usopp, Zorro, Aya, and Nami, watched from the Merry, seeing them scatter.

"Hey, you see that? It looks bad," Usopp said. "What do you think is going on in there?"

"Don't know, let's go inside and see," Zorro suggested.

"I agree with you on that," Aya replied. Usopp turned to her with wide eyes.

"WHAT?! Are you serious?!" he exclaimed.

"I am. You sound scared," Zorro teased, smirking at him.

"I am not scared!" Usopp sputtered. Zorro turned back towards the ship, Aya as well.

So strange, this ship looks almost abandoned...

"This is a pretty good ship. I'll take it," Krieg said. All of the chef's backed up from him in fear, glaring at him. Sanji sat up on his elbows, sitting up, glaring at Krieg.

"Bastard..." Sanji growled.

"As you can all see, my ship is a wreck naturally I'll be need a nice new one," Krieg said. "After a few small chores, every one of you will be leaving this ship."

"Don Krieg you promised! Please..." Gin said, looking up at him, still in pain.

"There are about a hundred men left aboard my ship. All are weak with hunger and are many seriously wounded. If you value your lives, you will prepare food and water for every last one of them. I've lost too many men to hunger already." Krieg explained.

"You're telling us to feed all our executioners?! Did you realize how stupid that sounds!? We refuse!" One of the chefs shouted at him. The smirk from Krieg's mouth fell.

"You refuse?" He asked. A dark look appeared in his eyes. "I wasn't asking you. Now, make no mistake you wretched cook, I'm not placing an order, I am giving you one! Do I make myself clear?! DON'T DEFY ME!!!"

"Sanji, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen," Gin said, sorrowfully.

"You see! Look what you brought in this restaurant you stupid bastard!" Patty shouted at Sanji. Sanji stood up and walked past him, ignoring him.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?!" Patty shouted.

"To the kitchen. Looks like I'll be cooking a hundred more meals today," Sanji said.

"Sanji!" Patty shouted angrily.

"ARE YOU CRAZY?!" All of the other chef's shouted shocked as well.

"Good hop to it," Krieg smirked. Suddenly, Sanji was stopped by several chefs as they blocked him, pointing their weapons dangerously at him.

"Tell me the truth Sanji. Are you his spy or something?" One chef questioned him.

"We can't let you go anywhere near that kitchen!" One shouted.

"We're fed up with you acting insane!" Another shouted angrily.

"Alright, stop me if you wish," Sanji said holding up his hands. "But, know, there's no secret that Don Krieg is a terrible ruthless man. If that doesn't matter to you, it doesn't matter. After we feed all of these men, who knows what's going to happen? I am just a simple cook no more and no less. If someone's going hungry then it's my duty to feed them. What do you say, is that wrong?"

Suddenly, Sanji was kicked from behind by Patty and he fell onto the floor.

"Patty!" Sanji growled, looking up at him.

"Hey, somebody grab him!" Patty ordered one of the chefs. "You bring free food to the bums I kick out of this place over and over again. And I'm not about to argue over who's right over that particular situation but this time you're just flat out wrong, Sanji. I can't let you do things like that anymore. We're going to protect this place, fortunately we've got numbers on our side. It is Don Krieg but what can be do against all of us!" He walked over to a counter and bent down opening one of the doors below it, rummaging around for something. "At a joint like this, pirate scum bags come and go everyday. We're fully prepared to serve any kind of customer."

"Is that-" Sanji stared in surprise. Patty pulled out a bazooka shaped like a shrimp, holding it on his shoulder.

"I really hope you saved some room for dessert," He said, then aimed the weapon directly at Krieg. "Because I have a secret recipe that is try to die for! OPEN WIDE! HERE COMES THE MEATBALL OF DOOM!" It fired and headed straight towards Krieg, causing a huge explosion.

"I might have broken the door. I sure hope that Zeff doesn't yell at me again," Patty said, happily. "He might go easy on me for saving the restaurant And all."

"What are we going to do about all the guys left in Krieg's ship?" Sanji asked.

"Fry em!" Patty told him. "Cover it in batter and cry the entire thing!"

"Are you a chef or a comedian?" Everyone's eyes widen in shock. Krieg emerged from the smoke, completely unscathed from the blast. He revealing to be wearing golden armor. Multiple guns emerged from it aiming at everyone. "Because your jokes are lame. And that dessert was terrible! The worst I've ever had! So, die!"

"So many guns..." Luffy murmured in awe. Krieg unleashed fire on the chefs shooting at them.

"You cooks should not have defied me! I am by far the world's strongest man! Made of solid steel, full steel body armor, impenetrable, and a diamond fist that can pound this world to dust! In addition to the weapons on my body, I have defeated 5000 pirates. My record is perfect. I've won every single battle that I've ever been in! I am Don! And I'm the only one fit to be called Don! I'm not going to ask again, where is the girl with the Key!?" Krieg demanded.

"Key? What's he talking about?" Luffy murmured, confused.

"Look no further she's right here," Aya called out. Everyone looked over Krieg's shoulder and he turned around to see her standing at the front entrance, leaning against the door on her side. Krieg smirked turning around facing her then looked down at the coin necklace hanging down from her neck. Aya stared back up at him taking in the captain's tall form.

"Fee Fi Fo fum, what beanstalk you fall from?" She smirked, taunting him.

"Aya!" Luffy shouted annoyed. "I told you to wait on the ship with the others!"

"And miss out on the action?" Aya told him. "I can't let you have all of the fun."

"There you are," Krieg smirked. "My crewmate told me a lot about you." Aya looked down at Gin who was still on the floor. He refused to look at her.

"Did he now?" Aya asked. Krieg began to inch closer to her. Sanji tried to get up.

"Hey! What are you doing? Run!" He warned her.

"Give me that key, you little runt!" Kreig lunged at Aya.

"Damn it!" Sanji hissed, about to jump in to help. But, he was shocked to see Aya grab Krieg by his shoulders, pulling herself up, and kneed Krieg right in the face. She jumped over him as he stumbled back and landed behind the pirate captain.

"I'm not some weak helpless girl you think that I am," Aya smirked. "I'm stronger than I look." Krieg glared down at her holding his bloody nose with his hand. Everyone stared in shock, while Luffy smiled, at her.

Before Krieg or anyone else could do anything, Zeff came down the stair, carrying a huge bag of his shoulder.

"Out of the way, kid!" He told Luffy, nearly knocking him down the stairs as he did. Chef Zeff stopped in front of Krieg placing the bag down in front of the captain.

"This is about a hundred meals. Now, take it to your men right away," he told Krieg.

"Watch where you're going with that! I was standing there, ya know!" Luffy shouted, angrily.

"Red Foot Zeff!" Krieg exclaimed in shock.

#monkey d luffy #one piece #one piece oc #sanji #Usopp #one piece nami #Fanfiction #Read more #Pirates #roronoa zoro

0 notes

former-chamaeleonic · 6 years

Text

Death picked up my Life

Summary: If Sanji were to die, Zoro picks up a habit of his. What had irked him all the time is now the last thread connecting him to the one who left him.

Warning: Mention of Character Death

You can also read it on ao3 here.

Inspired by @zosanheadcanons. Check out their tumblr, they’re lovely! Quite inactive, but really lovely!

Also check out this post, it’s based off this one!

Thank you so much for the inspiration, I will pick up more of the headcanons at some point!

Fic starts below the cut!

In nights like these, closing your eyes and drifting to sleep was as unthinkable as ever letting go of life itself.

The impossibility of allowing mere dreams to force memories back into consciousness would feel like a much greater sin than the fact of having gone down onto his knees for prayer during the last moments of life.

He regretted it. Having thought that something as unreal and yet eternal like god would hear him out after his whole life of deadlocked denial.

He had never believed in greater existences, even during the time he had prayed. But before everything ended, his hope had resolved to this aimless action.

Praying.

And naturally failing.

The bitter taste of burnt tobacco smoke irritated his throat. The smoke made the mucosa not only feel sore and dry, it was also driving him mad how easily the tobacco relaxed him. …as if relaxing was reasonable at a time like this…

But Zoro still wasn’t used to it, so the effect was probably way stronger than on chain smokers who did it for years on end.

What a day…

Remembering death as if it was a continuous experience. Over and over again. It would never let him go, would never let him sleep. These memories had clawed themselves into Zoro’s head for good. Minor situations brought back the lively, yet deadly memories. But reliving them in dreams, that he would not allow anymore. If it was the pain that was to return, he’d rather remember it on his own accord, than letting his subconscious handle it while he replenished his energy in something as sweet as sleep.

No. He wanted to be the one to handle it for 100%. Fully aware. Fully conscious.

Zoro set down the cup of poorly made coffee. Watery. Detestable. He still hadn’t gotten the hang of how to use this thing. It felt like it had been ages since he had had good coffee. The brand that he used was expensive, but that did not compensate his lack of skills that kept him from brewing it properly.

When it came to the household, he was a good man, suitable for chores. But kitchen work on the other hand, that just wasn’t his territory. That showed in him burning the toast every morning, wasting eggs by dropping them or frying them on such an incredible heat that they turned from clear to black without going through the stage of hardening and becoming white. Yup, that was the way he did things. Being together with a cook was one of the causes he never got practice into preparing meals. He simply never had to.

Sanji had always said that being such a failure in the kitchen in itself was a unique skill and they had fought over it a lot. But truth to be admitted, it was a miracle indeed how useless, or rather helpless Zoro acted in a kitchen.

Zoro felt like a typical good for nothing person when it came to these things. Yet he always happily cleaned it all. Taking care of the dishes was the only kitchen related chore je was useful at. Nowadays cleaning up the dishes gave him a nostalgic feeling too. It reminded him of old times.

…When life was still present in his existence.

He shoved the ashtray aside to get it out of his sight and picked up the empty cup of coffee.

Dark clouds hung low in the far away sky and fine drops drizzled from high above to down below onto the earthly grounds outside the comfortably warm room. They were veiling the air with their wet filigree texture that was preventing Zoro from seeing too far beyond the world he lived in. A world that expanded from where he was and on the inside of the cage that was in fact his own room. Everything behind the glass barrier in form of his window, it wasn’t part of his world anymore.

Just when he wondered what he might be able to see behind the mysterious curtain of rain, he shook his head and pulled his eyes away from the glass dispersing him from here and there. …dispersing his grief inside from the other world outside.

What should he look at anyway? True reality only happened within these gloomy walls…

He had not opened nor closed the curtains in… what was it now? Three and a half weeks. White sheers hung aimlessly before seemingly glass that mirrored his pitiful frame, the thick opaque curtains as the next layer were half closed. One of its ends hung sloppily over the couch’s back rest. It seemed untidy, yet unfixed based on sad intentions.

Lightning flicked outside and shortly made the world seem bright, but darkness fell upon the man once more as the auspicious growl of thunder knocked him out of unthought skies.

Dim light flickered for the blink of an eye and a cigarette was lit. The lighter got thrown back onto the table carelessly and landed with a clacking noise.

A familiar smell engulfed the man and his muscles relaxed a little bit as the first deep drag was done. The emitted fragrance was a comforting smell.

Again his throat felt a bit irritated by the unhealthy smoke. He had to cough, but he kept inhaling persistently as deep as he could.

Almost as if it could save him.

Him and his damned soul.

He took his sweet time enjoying the deadly bliss that fogged his system with false comfort. He had leaned back, his head was placed securely on the back rest with his neck exposed. He faced the ceiling when he threw his right hand over the rest to have it spread out to reach the curtain that still hung there. With a pang of guilt he clutched it, tried to imagine what it was like to panic at the lack of air, to hold onto anything to feel secure.

The left hand reached to bring the filter of the cigarette to his lips and while his gaze was still fixed to the ceiling – looking, but not seeing – he allowed another set of smoke to enter his system.

Without a second thought he pulled the curtain towards his cheek and he leaned against it. It smelled unwashed, reeked of old and cold smoke. Someday he would wash it. But not today. Not tomorrow either. Only when he was ready to let go. But when that was ought to happen, that was something God only knew. And God would never tell him.

Ashes dropped onto his clothes and he sighed annoyed. His tense fingers loosened and let go of the curtain without putting it back into a tidy position. It was essential to keep them the way they were.

He brushed it off, accidentally rubbed it into the texture of his shirt and sighed again. Time to stub the cigarette out and keep on cleaning. Sanji disliked dirty dishes more than anything. He would make him happy by keeping the kitchen in perfect condition. Happy Sanji was all he wanted after all.

After he had put out the remaining smouldering stick, he grabbed the cup and matching bottom plate and walked over to the counter where the sink was.

Zoro stared down at the metallic grey sink that shone brightly from all the wiping he did every single day to make the house look pleasing. For when Life should be ready to return into these walls. With a bright smile and the welcomed smell of delicious cooking and burnt tobacco.

Monotonous clattering of the cup hitting its bottom plate resounded in the otherwise silent room when he put the porcelain inside to get them washed. Zoro’s brain had the storm’s thunder blocked out. To him, the outer world didn’t exist anymore.

Another lightning strike. The unlit room got bright with an instant flash.

For a moment he had seen Life before his eyes. He had felt it as if it were back with him. In shock he had whipped around to see, but there was nothing but monochrome darkness in plain sight.

…what a huge house to possess when you’re alone.

What a mercilessly huge living room it was for nobody to be alive in here.

With a deep sigh, Zoro turned back to look at the stained cup containing a small remnant of the tasteless liquid he called coffee. It couldn’t be helped. He reached for the faucet. The water immediately flowing from it had a similarly hollow sound as the water coming from the sky had. It resonated quietly but it sounded so painfully hollow to him…

As he applied the dish soap onto the sponge, he felt himself getting dizzy for the first time since a few hours. The smell of the so called apple-citrus soap insulted his nostrils with its obtrusive smell.

The cup matching plate were all clean again quickly. He set them down onto the kitchen counter to let them rest there shortly so he could reach for the dishtowel to dry them. But when his eyes closed for a brief second, the heaviness of his lids tried to force him to pass out in order to recharge. He fought well to open them up again. Because he lost his balance for an instant, he staggered back and felt his hand brush something. At the immediate glance, Zoro saw the cup about to fall.

Quick reflexes helped him to rescue the valuable piece of porcelain. A part of a set to be precise. A set that was never going to be used again.

He went back to the couch. Another cigarette. Another drag.

Tobacco. Smoke. A pain in the ass. Washing clothes and curtains regularly, how much had he hated it. He had always done so much to get that ugly stench out of the fabrics so it would not bother him. How much had they argued about Sanji to quit smoking in favour of their belongings? In favour of both of their lungs too…

Countless times. All of them in vain anyway. The world would go down before Sanji quitted smoking.

Hah… how much truth these words held… So very brutal truth…

The world had ended after all.

Zoro scuffed back into the living room and grabbed the pack again to retrieve one of the long sticks and lit it right away. However after some time, he set the halfway smoked cigarette down and put it into the ashtray. It was in his way. It was an ugly habit that killed people. But Sanji had probably been too young, too narrow minded to understand. It was Sanji’s way of living and Zoro was the one who had fallen for the whole cook, bugging, pretty and smoking too.

He remembered it clearly. Whenever Sanji had set it to his lips, Zoro had been all worked up. Mostly because Sanji knew exactly how to make something so disgusting look so shamelessly sexy. When the cigarette hung between his lips and Sanji leaned against the kitchen counter, chest pushed forward and legs slightly apart. When he’d expose his neck so voluptuously, sigh and then inhale and when the smoke would come out again with this particular blowing sonority or sometimes with a teasing moan. It had always worked on Zoro. Without failure up to the very day.

When he called it back into mind, he felt himself getting aroused. Shame and disgust washed over him when he could feel his tired loins tingle and his centre of lust fill with blood. He groaned as he put his palm up to cover his eyes to evade grappling with awkward reality. How stupid was this, exposing himself mental stimulation in a situation like this.

To distract himself from the unwelcomed stimulus, Zoro leaned forward to grab a bunch of wrinkled papers and studied them for a second to pick the right one. Another mark was added to the tally chart he had. One of three he had.

One for the days since Life had left – 24.

One for the hours he kept himself awake at a stretch by force – 55.

One for the times he cried – It was blurred with tears.

The one he made was a mark for the hours awake at a stretch. He had managed another hour. Altogether that made 56. His limit was soon to be hit. Those marks and tallies helped him to keep himself focused and sane while being engulfed with Death.

He checked the watch and eventually got up silently. The smell of burnt tobacco and poisonous smoke got left behind. He needed a change of atmosphere.

With slow, yet determined steps the overly exhausted man walked down the stairs to where their basement was. He was barefoot, he was cold and it probably did harm to his health, but that wasn’t important. Someone who was already dead wouldn’t have to worry about getting sick, right?

He put on a pair of boxing gloves and walked up a punching bag installed in the corner of the room. The light was dim, the light bulb he had put into it a few months back had been too weak, but Zoro had never reacted to Sanji’s nagging. “It’s fine, as long as we see, why bother exchanging a good bulb?” was what Zoro had always replied to Sanji’s complaints.

If only he had listened. That would have made their last moments brighter. Not only in a way of light, but also in a way of fun. Less tension, less quarrelling. If only everything had been smoothed out before their forceful separation…

Truth to be told, even their fights have always been harmless and more of a gentle pestering than serious hate. Zoro probably did not have to worry about anything. …but he did. To the very end, something hadn’t been perfect.

But parting ways would have been so much nicer with everything the way it should have been.

With no flaws left and no room for regrets like these.

Zoro punched the bag hard. He had not warmed up before but he told himself that he would get warm enough eventually while training. The caffeine would eventually kick in as well and even though it had been a tasteless brown brew of more water than anything else, it would show effect at some point. He knew by experience.

Another push.

The loud sound of the leather gloves colliding with the heavy punching bag got covered by another thunder.

Another punch. Another. Another. Another! Another!

He swung more and more punches, faster with every coming hit, harder with each strike. His breath became ragged while he let out all the aggression, tension and also desperation that had built up inside him and that had nowhere else to go.

Time passed, sweat began to build up on his forehead and finally his circulation got spurred on sufficiently to pump warmth back into his hands and feet that had felt like frozen for the last few hours.

During this, Zoro felt more alive again. When he moved and trained, it was like he was a different person living in a different world. Like this he could let go for a little while, could forget about what had happened. It was almost as if he could just leave the house and greet everyone on the street the next day. He imagined the clouds being gone and Life would show up just like Life normally did, to whirl around him in all the usual energy and brightness.

The hits became harder. Harder and harder, stronger and fiercer still.

Nonsense. Death was Death. Never would he be able to greet this once so beautiful brightness again! Those hopeful thoughts were pathetic bullshit!

Waving to your neighbours on warm spring days... Staying at home through summer storms and getting out for sun bathing, swimming, walking or just plain for work during the nice days, it was all a dream. Left to be an illusion. Past and gone.

He hit even harder at these thoughts. Nothing could bring anything back to life. Let alone a human.

Gone meant gone. Gone for good. And gone forever.

God had no mercy for those who wished for something.

God was cruel for taking the most precious from him that he ever had.

Down in the basement where the light of lightning could not reach, his lungs cleared up, far away from Sanji’s constant smoking. To Zoro, it still felt like it was Sanji who was the one doing the smoking after all. Sanji’s habit had always enforced his presence in the house by spreading through the familiar smell. Whenever Zoro had entered the house and the smell of burnt tobacco had invaded his nostrils, it had always given off such a nostalgic atmosphere.

…Zoro missed it. He missed it all so much that he couldn’t even focus on the training properly. All he did was to try and go harder with each delivered smack and went even far enough to lose his cool and to scream out gutturally with each and every single hit.

Then it happened. He hit in a bad angle and heard a cracking noise. It was in an instant that Zoro pulled back with a gut-wrenching roar as pain comparable to the spot being hit by lightning pierced his wrist mercilessly. His first instinctive reaction was to retreat his damaged hand towards his chest where he cradled it for a little comfort in the hope that would ease the pain somewhat.

The wrist was definitely damaged, that was for sure. Sanji could patch it up for him. … if he were not dead that is… Why had he thought about Sanji again right now? His throat tightened. What a bad timing for getting sentimental…

Zoro tried to push off the boxing glove to check on his injury, to make sure it was still whole, but taking it off just like that proved to be a task of impossibility. The pain was way too excruciating.

He took the glove of his healthy hand between his teeth and pulled it off roughly until his jaw hurt, but with that he now had his good hand to use to pull the second glove off as well.

When he gave it a sharp tug to get rid of it in one go he screamed out again, the pain numbing his heated up body again in mere seconds.

Zoro panted heavily.

It had come off, but that wrist was definitely broken.

Curse life.

Curse death.

These two were the perfect lover’s couple.

While Life sends over countless living beings, as soon as they arrive, Death keeps them forever.

They must really love each other. Otherwise the constant dynamics of give and take wouldn’t work so flawlessly. But if they knew what love was, then why did they destroy the love of those alive in such an ineffably cruel way?

Zoro bit the inside of his cheek as he felt his eyes burn up.

Another stormy day with tears.

He roared out in so much pain that was caused from so much more than just his wrist.

Keeping his emotions in check was no longer a possibility at the point of brokenness he had reached by now. His voice rose to a staggering pitch as he smashed his head against the wall violently to feel something, just something! He did it once. The brutal impact distracted him from his wrist, but the noise it made held such an unhealthy sound.

The head got slammed against the dry brick wall again with another animalistic roar that just needed to leave the tense body and something wet dripped from his eyebrow down his eye. It felt cold. Apparently a tiny rivulet formed in his face and ran down next to his eye, along the cheek where the collected blood of a freshly open wound dropped from his chin.

But it wasn’t enough. Far from enough! The good had got elevated up high and the damaged one was placed on the floor, underside facing up. He hit the broken spot brutally and yelled out in so much pain that he wasn’t able to contain. He was shattered. Purely shattered, smashed into pieces, broken by life, mangled by himself! He hit and hit so hard, as hard as he hit the punching bag and blood went spraying everywhere at the fierce movements he did during the ordeal. Tears accompanied the red liquid and dizziness washed over him, blackness fogged his sight, concealed his mind successfully so even Zoro had no other choice than to stop. Or his body would eventually give in and he’d collapse. He didn’t want that to happen.

His breath was fast and irregular, the heart was racing in its cage of ribs. Inside his empty chest. Down on his knees he tilted over and cried so bitterly over the loss that he couldn’t handle.

Minute after minute rolled by and let him age without him noticing. Every passing minute brought him closer to where his true Life was right now. To the other side, where there was likely to be a doorstep and if he’d pass it, it would smell like perfectly prepared food and tobacco.

He inhaled deeply a few times, tried to get the better of his consciousness. And when he had regained control he sighed one more time as deep as he could before he got up.

“Sorry, Sanji… I got the wall a bit dirty…”, he murmured purposelessly while carrying himself up the stairs.

When he reached the main floor, he faced the sheer blackness of the night. Another lightning strike.

The couch was in plain view for an instance and the flashback of the young blond hit him hard.

Sanji on the couch…

During night.

After a long day of work.

Zoro had returned home.

And lightning had it revealed.

The dead body.

White in this short light.

Eyes wide open. The curtain pulled halfway closed and since then never to be rearranged again. Probably grabbed in desperation by the breathless Sanji.

A lung infarct.

That was what they had told Zoro.

Due to excessive smoking.

That day Zoro’s Life had been taken.

When he had been back home, he had sat down right where Sanji had died.

He had taken out a cigarette from the pack that had still been there and he had taken the lighter.

Right now, Zoro had sat down right where Sanji’s corpse had been.

The trauma was endless.

Zoro took a cigarette and lit it. The 129th since he had stopped sleeping now 57 hours ago.

The smell was so nostalgic.

The smoke was still irritating though.

But it was the last bastion that connected him to Life.

To the Life of his husband that had made him whole.

Now his existence had been ruined.

-End-

#zosan #zoro x sanji #character death #fanfic #fanfiction #one piece #tragedy #coping with loss #zoro is smoking #oneshot #zosanheadcanons

7 notes · View notes

your-iron-lung · 7 years

Text

Mixed Up 19 | Karuna |

Chapter Word Count: 4310

Pairings: Zoro/Sanji

Genre: Comedy, Drama, Romance

Chapter Warning: Strong Language

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 , 17, 18

Next Chapter: 20

For what must have been the third time since she'd called Sanji that morning, Nami apologized.

"It's just, I got pretty wasted," she admitted with a sigh, walking slowly through her kitchen to prepare herself some coffee. "And I ended up bringing my date home with me, and, well, you know how that goes."

"I don't mind! I'm just flattered you remembered to call me at all; you really are so sweet!"

Despite the early hour, Sanji already seemed to be running on full energy, which at first had been kind of annoying, but was now starting to become tolerable. He'd been so chipper when she'd first called that, for just a moment, Nami'd thought that he'd gotten over his issues himself.

But whenever she started to mention Zoro, Sanji would either abruptly change the subject or stop talking altogether. As if his forced attitude wasn't annoying on its own, the fact that he was unwilling to confront his problems was beginning to wear her down as well.

Ignoring the monumental headache her hangover was causing her, she did her best to keep herself in a positive mood. She'd been worried at first that his attitude was because he was upset with her for neglecting to call him like she'd promised the night before, but she was sure now that it was just because he was struggling.

Barefoot, she stepped as quietly as she could across the linoleum flooring through the kitchen. Her skin stuck and peeled with each step she took, and though the action hardly made any noise, she felt like her date, still sleeping in her bedroom, could probably hear it.

"How was your date, by the way? Did he treat you as well as I did on ours?"

Sanji had been casually trying to get details from her about her evening throughout the duration of their conversation. He'd been subtle about it at first, but when he realized subtly was getting him nowhere he began to ask about it directly. She wouldn't have minded so much if she didn't know that he was just using it as an excuse to avoid talking about his own romantic issues.

"My my," Nami teased, tucking and holding her phone between her ear and shoulder as she spoke. "Is that jealousy I'm sensing?"

She heard him scoff as she filled the Keurig machine with water and then sifted through the pile of k-cup coffee pods she kept to find the flavor and strength she wanted.

As she turned it on and began to wait for the water to heat up, she set the phone down on the counter briefly to hoist herself up to sit beside the coffee maker.

"I'm just making sure that the standards a woman of your caliber must have, have been met!" Nami laughed quietly at his words as she picked her phone up to hear the tail-end of his rant. "Especially since you brought the man home!"

A cheeky grin crossed her face that Sanji couldn't see.

"Not that it's any of your business, but, yeah, I'd say my standards were met," she mused, stretching out her legs. "But, hey, enough about me; we both know that this conversation isn't supposed to be about me and my romantic interests."

That shut him up, but if he was going to be direct with her, then, well, she'd just have to be direct with him in return.

Waiting for Sanji's response, Nami yawned and stuck her k-cup pod into the machine once it alerted her that the water had finished heating up. Almost as if called in by the machine itself, Nami's sister appeared in the kitchen.

Fully dressed and in the process of tying her dyed blue hair up into a bandanna, Nojiko quirked her brow when she noticed Nami was on the phone.

"Who're you talking to?" she half whispered, half mouthed.

"New friend," Nami quietly replied before muting herself on the phone so Sanji couldn't hear them. "How is it you always know when I'm making coffee?"

"Who's the new friend?" Nojiko asked, ignoring Nami's question as she approached, applying the finishing touches to her hair.

"Some guy Zoro found at the Sunny." She took her filled cup of coffee out of the machine so Nojiko could use it and set it aside to cool. "He's having like, an identity crisis of sorts."

"How kind of you to be there for him."

Nojiko's sarcasm made Nami frown.

"It is way too early for you to be throwing this much attitude at me," Nami said, angrily taking a sip of her coffee, which ended up burning her tongue. "Fuck, ow. What'd I do this time?"

"Put some pants on," was all her sister had to say as she set up their coffee machine to start a brew for herself.

As Nami was about to retort with, no, she would absolutely not put on pants and would, in fact, walk around the house all day in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear if she wanted, Sanji ended his silence.

"Sorry. I just don't know how to really approach it."

"That's okay," Nami said, giving Nojiko the stink eye before she realized she was still muted. As she unmuted the phone, she repeated herself. "That's okay. I know it can be tough."

She was aware of Nojiko watching her and listening in to the conversation as she waited for her coffee. Giving her a scowl, Nami slid off the countertop and grabbed her mug and wandered away into their living room.

Settling into her favourite armchair, she sighed contentedly as she took another sip of coffee and relaxed into the cushions. The mug warmed her hand as she held it, eventually forcing her to place it on a side table when it grew to be too hot. Alone in the room and finally able to start self-medicating her hangover, Nami could give Sanji her total and complete focus, though it seemed as though he'd clammed up again.

She wondered if there was anything she could do to help ease him into talking openly with her. As it stood, it was obvious he wanted her help, but didn't know how to make himself available to it. His pride or whatever it was was getting in his way.

"I have an idea," she said, sticking her tongue out at Nojiko as she passed through the room and out the front door. "A way to make this easier to talk about for you."

There was another patch of silence on the line before he said, "Okay."

"And, hey, if you don't want to, you know that's okay, right? We don't have to talk about anything you don't want to."

"Thank you for your concern," he said with honest relief. "I really appreciate everything that you're doing for me."

Nami leaned up out of her chair for a moment to grab the television remote. She pressed the power button and then immediately muted the TV as it turned on, fulfilling her desire to have something going on in the background that she could offhandedly watch.

"I'll just have to have you return the favor someday," she remarked casually, flipping through the channels until she found one that was airing some cartoons. "But yeah, it's no problem. Anyway, back to my idea.

"You know the game 20 questions, right?" she asked, and once she had gotten affirmation that yes, he did, she continued. "Well I was thinking we could do something like that, except instead of asking questions like to try and figure something out, we ask them back and forth to figure each other out.

"I'll ask you a question, you answer it, and then you ask me something. It can be about anything, but we both have to answer, no matter what the question is. Fair?"

It was the only thing she could really think of that would help ease him into finally having a conversation about Zoro. Offering and demanding total and complete honesty was going to be hard for the both of them, especially since they were near strangers to one another, but it would definitely serve to bring them closer as well.

This way, she'd get to know more about Sanji and whether or not he really was attracted to Zoro in some fashion, and he'd be able to trust her without issue.

They just had to be honest with one another, which would likely be easier said than done.

"Is there a question limit?" he asked.

"Let's start with five for now; see how well it works out."

"Okay."

Scratching at her undercut, she mentally noted how long it was getting and hoped she would remember to ask Nojiko to shave it back down for her later.

"You go first," she said, grabbing her cup of coffee again and drinking from it readily.

There was a pause as Sanji thought of what to say next. While he was quiet, she thought up some questions of her own as she waited, wondering what it was he would ask her first.

"You're sure it can be about anything?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yep. Anything."

Her eyes were directed towards the TV, watching whatever child's animation was being broadcast when he finally asked his first question.

She was momentarily caught off guard when he said, "Who's Luffy?"

It was her turn to fall silent as she processed his question. Briefly stunned, her vision blurred out of focus before she shook herself out of the slight stupor.

"Um, wow," she said, taking in a deep breath as she set her coffee aside. "Going all out on question one, huh?"

"You said anything," he said guiltily. "If that was out of line, then I apologize-"

"No, no, it's fine, I just- just wasn't expecting that."

Leaning back into her chair, Nami ran a hand through her hair. Sanji didn't know it, but his question was difficult to answer. There was just so much when it came to Luffy that she rightly didn't know how to take what she knew about him and turn it into a satisfactory answer for him.

Honestly, she'd expected Sanji to ask something about Zoro, not about one of her old bandmates, which led her to wonder what exactly it was he wanted to know about him. Did he want to know who Luffy was in general, or who Luffy was to them specifically?

"Luffy was- is -" Sighing in frustration, Nami furrowed her brow and blankly stared ahead in an attempt to collect her thoughts. Where had Sanji even learned of Luffy's existence to begin with? Though, she had told Sanji to look up their band in the past, so it wasn't unlikely that he'd found out about him indirectly from her.

"He started the band," she finally said, speaking slowly when her eye wandered over to where she kept a flag that had been detailed with their band's jolly-roger logo. "Our band; it's his."

All three of them had gotten a flag emblazoned with their logo once the Mugiwara Menace had taken off and started to become popular. The flags were a reward and a memento for successfully recording their first album together; a reward the three of them prized highly in their own way.

Zoro hung his in his bedroom, Luffy used to have his tied to the antenna of his car, and Nami kept hers framed in the living room, just above their fire place beside a large portrait of her mother.

They were, the three of them, united by the jolly-roger's grin.

"A few years ago his brother died and he went away because of it," she continued, her gaze fixed upon her flag. "It was really bad- the rest of us were on tour, and we knew something was up with Ace, but we all kind of hoped whatever it was he was mixed up in would just- resolve itself, you know? Luffy didn't think that way, though; said he needed to leave about halfway through to check on him but his brother died almost as soon as he got to him. No one's seen or heard from him since."

It hurt to talk about. She didn't even really want to, but part of her hoped that Sanji would recognize how difficult the subject was for her and be able to unburden himself the same way when it was his turn to answer an invasive question.

"He promised he'd come back, though. So that's what Zoro and I are doing right now. Waiting for him to come back."

She had to wipe away some wetness that had begun to creep out of her eyes. They all knew they'd handled Ace's situation poorly. There was so much more they could've done for him if they'd just tried. Nami wasn't even sure why they hadn't tried harder for him, especially since it'd been super apparent that he wasn't doing alright.

And even though they hadn't heard from Luffy in years, Nami still retained the belief that he would come back when he was ready, regardless of his current Richey Edwards status. She knew that he didn't blame them for Ace's death, but likely blamed himself and needed to learn how to live with it as a result.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Sanji finally said after a quiet moment. "But thank you for sharing that with me."

There was more to Luffy than just that, but it was all she felt she could say without breaking down entirely. Nami sniffled and took a moment to collect herself. Walking back in through the front door, Nojiko noticed her upset appearance and quirked a brow, but Nami waved her off before she could ask about it.

"Of course," she said, speaking to Sanji as her sister passed by, giving Nami another odd look. "Ready to answer my first question?"

"No," Sanji replied, making them both laugh a little. "Of course I am."

With the mood lightened just a bit, Nami drank more of her coffee before shifting around in her seat.

"Okay. My question to you is this: what is it that you like about Zoro?"

Over the line, she heard Sanji splutter and cough out whatever it was he'd been drinking previously. She couldn't help but laugh as he struggled to clear his throat and felt her creeping sadness dissipate.

"I knew that was coming," he said, speaking hoarsely, making her laugh again.

"So you must've thought up an answer then, right?"

Genuinely curious, she hoped Sanji would take the question seriously.

"Uh. I have, but, honestly? Nothing."

"What? Are you being serious? We agreed we had to answer honestly!" Frowning, she couldn't help but be annoyed by his answer, especially after she'd opened up and said so much to him.

"I did! I'm sorry, my sweet, but that's my honest answer," he said. "I've thought about it, and I think… I actually hate him?"

"Wow," she said, bitterness seeping into her voice. "Well, there has to be something, otherwise you wouldn't be, y'know, in 'like' with him."

"I don't know why I am."

With a frustrated sigh, Nami sat up from her slouching position and crossed her legs over the cushion. Her headache that had slowly been going away started to return with how agitated she was becoming.

"Is it… his talent?" she asked exasperatedly, desperately grasping at straws, trying to find anything at all that had attracted Sanji to Zoro.

"I think he is talented, but no."

Nami groaned.

"Well… is it his attitude? His 'fuck off' demeanor?"

"…No, absolutely not."

"Do you think he's handsome?"

"Oh God, no-"

"Then what?!"

"I- I don't know!"

"Ugh, well, there goes the rest of my questions," she said bitterly.

Angry that she'd sped through them all trying to pinpoint where his attraction had come from, she slouched back into her seat and unmuted the TV. She kept the volume down low enough so that Sanji probably couldn't hear it and waited for whatever it was he had to say next.

"There was one thing," Sanji said around a sigh, speaking slowly and in a manner that sounded as though he were ashamed of himself.

With her interest piqued, Nami looked away from the television, but couldn't help but sound half-hearted when she said, "What thing?"

"It seems… really trivial, now that I think about it, but it's really the only thing I can think of.

"When I had that lesson with him the other day, he… touched my fingers. Maybe it's because I work so much with my hands, but when he did, I- I don't know, something happened. I think about it a lot," he admitted with some reluctance.

His attraction to Zoro wasn't as cut and dry as Nami had initially thought it'd been, which would likely make things more difficult down the road, but this made more sense. Just the other day Sanji had been trying to convince her that he'd never had feelings for another man like this before, so obviously Zoro must have done something extraordinary for Sanji to be attracted to him so strongly in such a short amount of time.

"Your hands?" she said, quirking her head in thought. "That's interesting."

"They're important to me," Sanji mumbled. "They're my livelihood, and he was… gentle."

Nami could practically feel him cringing to himself as he spoke to her about it, but this was the reciprocated honesty she'd been looking for when she started their little questions game.

"I know it's hard to believe, but sometimes Zoro's really considerate. He may seem like a blockhead a lot of the time- and he is!- but he's also fairly decent. He's not always the asshole he makes himself out to be, I mean, hell, there was a reason I dated him."

She'd meant for it to come out as a joke to try and lift Sanji's mood, but he didn't laugh. Instead, he asked, "Why did you date him?"

If Nami had thought his first question was tough to answer, his second one turned out to be ten times worse. Her shoulders slumped as a forlorn expression took over her face. These weren't the kinds of questions Nami had figured Sanji would be asking, and was definitely not prepared to answer.

"I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that," he said quickly when she lapsed into silence. "That one was out of line."

"Yeah, a little bit," she agreed, forcing herself to laugh a little to ease the sudden tension their conversation had accumulated. "But I would have."

"I know."

Their speech stalled as they each tried to deal with the awkwardness created by Sanji's question. He berated himself mentally for distressing Nami at all and decided he no longer felt up to the task of finishing the game they'd started.

"Nami, my darling, thank you for calling me. I feel much better about… everything after having listened to your voice for so long, and I am deeply, truly sorry for upsetting you at all." The sincerity in his voice was genuine as he apologized. Nami took note of it, and was appreciative of how genuine he was as a person. She needed more friends like that. "I think I'll ask you my remaining questions another time, though, to save you any further grief that I may accidentally cause."

"Trust me, you've done about the worst you could do already," she said with a smile, speaking in a tone that would hopefully let Sanji know that she wasn't really all that upset with him. "And that's fine, but I'm counting that question about Zoro and I as your second, which leaves you with three."

"Fair enough," he said, sounding far more relaxed than he had previously. "I'll talk to you later my sweet, gracious darling."

"Later, Sanji."

Upon ending the call, she dropped her phone onto the side table and groaned, rubbing at her eyes. The coffee she'd been drinking was growing cold as she picked up the mug and drank from it, and it was then that she realized Nojiko was standing nearby, watching her.

"How long have you been there?" Nami asked crossly. Nojiko's attitude from before still had a negative impact on her overall mood.

"Long enough to find out new guy has a crush on Zoro," Nojiko replied flippantly, entering into the room and taking a seat on the couch next to Nami's chair.

"You can't tell him," Nami said hastily, glaring daggers into her sister, who took the remote and turned the TV off.

"Calm down, I wasn't going to."

With the TV off, Nami understood that they were about to have a serious conversation. Already mentally taxed from having to deal with Sanji and his pent up problems, she groaned and sunk as deep as she could into the confines of her chair.

"There's a lot of new people in your life lately," Nojiko began, speaking calmly. She kept her eyes on Nami, who kept hers focused on the cooling cup of coffee in her hands. "You didn't tell me you were going to bring a girl home with you last night."

"What was I supposed to do?" Nami retorted, unable to keep her voice from sounding angry. "Tell her, 'hang on, I've got to call my sister and let her know you're sleeping over to make sure it's okay'?"

Nojiko remained calm and impassive through Nami's outburst, blinking at her slowly when she'd turned to yell at her.

"Relax, I'm not mad," Nojiko replied. "And no, I'm not saying you should have done that. I'm saying that you should've told me you were seeing someone at all. You're starting to cut me out again."

"It's not like I've been keeping her a secret," Nami argued, trying her best to keep her voice as level as Nojiko had managed to keep hers. "And I've really only known Sanji for a week!"

"And your girlfriend?"

"We're not-" Nami spluttered, taken aback by the direct language Nojiko had decided to label them with. "Well, not yet, but, no! We aren't there yet."

The look on Nojiko's face told her that her answer wasn't satisfactory. It also told her that she'd hurt her sister somehow by withholding the fact that she had been actively seeing someone.

It'd never been her intention to keep it from her, but there honestly hadn't been much of a chance for her to tell Nojiko she'd started dating again anyway. Their schedules were just so different now that Nami was working for Franky and Nojiko was busy tending to the farm, that there simply wasn't enough time for it. The only times they ever really got to hang out or do anything together anymore was when they went to concerts or Nami had the rare day off.

She could see where Nojiko was coming from, but at the same time it frustrated her because she knew she hadn't done it on purpose.

"Her name's Vivi," Nami said quietly in an attempt to placate Nojiko's want for information. "And I wasn't trying to hide her from you, it's just hard to find the time to tell you something like that without it seeming insincere, y'know? I didn't want to just do, like, a drive-by and say hey, I met someone without being able to really talk to you about it."

Nojiko's lips twitched downwards as she sighed and looked away, but she seemed to understand where Nami was coming from. There wasn't much either of them could do to solve their communication issues at that point, given their respective situations.

"You don't have to work at that store, you know," Nojiko eventually said.

"I know I don't," Nami said, setting her coffee aside. "But I want to. I like being around the music. I like being around Zoro."

Even though she told herself she no longer harbored romantic feelings for him, she still felt a strong need to stay involved with his life. Without Luffy there to give them a reason to be together, she was afraid that there wouldn't anymore reasons for them to hang out and keep being friends.

She'd explained this fear to Nojiko several times in the past, and despite the many assurances Nojiko gave her that Zoro wouldn't just drop off the face of her earth like that, the fear remained in the back of her head like seeing and knowing that you've squished a spider, but unable to find it's corpse afterwards.

"Speaking of Zoro," Nojiko said slowly, attempting to keep the conversation from being a repeat of similar conversations they'd had in the past. "How does new guy crushing on your man make you feel?"

"I hate that you call him that. He's not my man," Nami said sharply.

"Regardless, my question still stands."

"I don't care. Zoro's allowed to see other people; I am, after all."

"Then you should invite new guy to his hockey game tonight." The look of surprise Nami had on her face made Nojiko laugh. "What, did you forget he was playing?"

"No, I'm just surprised that you actually had a good idea for once," Nami teased, grabbing her cellphone to type up a quick text message invite to send to Sanji.

A bit awkwardly, they settled back into how they usually interacted with one another, much to their mutual relief. Sanji replied to the invitation with hesitant confirmation, to which Nami offered to pick him up and drive them all to Zoro's game together.

She assured him that, even though he had next to no knowledge about the sport, he'd have a fun time just hanging out with her and watching him play. With their evening planned and her relationship with Nojiko on the mend, Nami retreated back into her room where Vivi was still sleeping and got into bed beside her.

#zosan fanfic #zosan fanfiction #zosan #zoro/sanji #one piece fanfiction #one piece #punk au #modern day au #slow burn #mixed up

2 notes · View notes