Chapter Text
“For the love of god, stop moving!”
“Tsk. I hate this. It’s so uncomfortable.”
“If you move again I will charge you 1000 more berries.”
“Witch. You’re already charging me 8000. This is basically fraud.”
Zoro grunted and stayed still, so the orange-haired Moroi could run her hands through his bright green hair, spreading hair gel into his hair to push it back, revealing the Dhampir’s forehead.
“If you want to look good for Sanji-kun, I would argue this is good investment. There.”
With a smack to the back of his head, Nami withdrew her hands from the green-haired Dhampir and made a face. “I swear, if you didn’t actually wash your hair today I will poison you.”
“God. I told you, I have already showered this morning.” Zoro glared at Nami in annoyance. “Are you done? Hand me the mirror.”
“I would appreciate it if you said please. Where are your manners?” Nami huffed, but grabbed her hand mirror and held it in front of Zoro nonetheless. As the Dhampir took the mirror, he felt a gentle whisk of wind fondling his hair, so he mumbled a thanks knowing it was the Moroi’s doing to speed up the drying.
“You nervous?” The Moroi wiggled her eyebrows to the Dhampir as she turned to grab her brush and began applying blush onto her cheeks. Nami was wearing a wine-red short dress that perfectly hugged her body, one that impressively complimented her curves. Her hair was put up in a bun at the back of her head, with just a curled strand on the side of her face.
“Nope. It’s not like we’ll dance or something, he’s just pretending to be my date.” Zoro said, keeping himself busy by fixing his hair and his collar in the mirror and refusing to look at Nami.
“Anything can happen. You never know.” The smugness in the Moroi’s voice and her little shrug made Zoro want to punch her in the face. “I mean, it might not be convincing enough to Hiyori if you don’t dance with your date.” She sing-songed.
“It’s not happening. He’d rather die than dance with me.” Zoro said with a roll of his eyes.
“Say what you will. I’m just here for the drama.” Nami drawled, “But the most important matter here is still Vivi. I can’t wait to see her dress.”
The members of the Straw Hats made a rule of not meeting their dates before the dance, so their attire would be a secret until they met at the hall. Zoro hated how this long stretch of time left too much room for him to imagine Sanji in a suit. He also hated how his already frantic heart accelerated every time the sight played itself in his brain, over and over again, turning his insides into a nervous, writhing knot.
Zoro was wearing a suit in black and he had, against Nami’s protest, left the upper half of his button-up shirt open, exposing a well-trained chest. The swordsman was already finding the way his suit clung to his body extremely unbearable, and if he had those buttons up his throat he would undoubtedly suffocate. The three golden earrings dangled on his left earlobe, and as he turned his head to examine himself in the mirror, the accessories chimed against each other in a series of tinkling sounds.
“Should I wear sunglasses?”
“What?” Nami turned to incredulously glare at her friend, and screeched in horror seeing the Dhampir was already trying on a pair of sunglasses, “No, absolutely not! You will not wear sunglasses to a ball!”
“Why not? To complete the look, I think it’d be perfect to add on a white beard—”
“Are you cosplaying as Santa Claus?” Nami could feel an incoming headache looming and she sighed, pinching between her brows, ”You’re unbelievable. What kind of fashion is that? Thank god I offered to help you get ready or else poor Sanji-kun would have a caveman for a date.”
Zoro grumpily mumbled it’s not that bad and Nami chose to ignore it, and gained a new knowledge of the swordsman that his appreciation for fashion was as good as his sense of direction. Which, to almost everyone’s knowledge, was shit.
“C’mon, it’s time to go.” Smashing her brush down onto the desk, Nami announced, grinning at Zoro in an overflowing excitement that the Dhampir couldn’t help but mirror, “Are you ready?”
“Let’s go.” Zoro rose and grabbed the three swords leaning at the desk.
“Don’t bring swords to the ball!” Nami barked at Zoro.
“Shut up! I’m taking them.” The Dhampir snapped back as he hung his beloved katanas onto his waist, his right arm resting comfortably onto the hilts, back to where it belonged.
Knowing she couldn’t persuade Zoro on this matter, Nami sighed for what felt like the hundredth time today and made her way towards the door.
“I’m not asking for your styling fees now only because we’re in a rush. I want my payment by the end of the day.” As the door to Zoro’s dorm swung open, Nami threw a sharp glance at the Dhampir.
“God, I hate you.”
‧₊˚ ⋅ ⚔︎‧₊˚𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅
Upon their arrival, the hall was already packed with a crowd of well-dressed vampires and music was blasting away. With his blood pumping in his ears, Zoro’s eyes swept the room for a familiar shade of yellow and suppressed a sigh when there was no such colour in his line of vision. He found himself feeling progressively lightheaded as he walked into the hall, and he realised he was nervous for the first time in a long while. He had never batted an eye facing Fujitora in practices, nor did he stress when he found out he hadn’t revised enough for his exams. But the mere thought of Sanji in a suit, probably looking extremely handsome and glamorous had his palms sweating uncontrollably.
Nami strolled alongside the swordsman, scanning the room with an equal sense of urgency and he knew that she was, like him, searching for her date. And when she lurched forward with a cry, Zoro knew she had found who she had been looking for, and followed her.
Vivi watched her girlfriend with a tender smile and caught the orange-haired Moroi in her arms. The Spirit user was wearing a light-blue dress covering her knees, matching her long, luscious blue hair that went all the way down to her waist. Nami wrapped her arms around Vivi’s shoulders and stole a kiss, causing the latter to blush but make no protest.
“Vivi, you’re gorgeous!” The orange-haired Moroi drew back, and with her hands still held onto her girlfriend’s took in the other Moroi’s attire.
“So are you.” Vivi smiled shyly at the Moroi and lovingly tucked a strand of hair behind Nami’s ears, “And I love your dress, it’s very… tempting. Oh hey, Mr Bushido.”
Zoro nodded to her in greeting, “Have you seen Curly?”
“He hasn’t arrived. Probably still prepping the cake.” A high-pitched voice answered, and Zoro turned to see Usopp and Kaya who had their arms linked together, both their faces glowing shades of red. Zoro knew that Sanji and Zeff had promised the school a massive cake for the dance and he was now most likely being occupied by the preparations, but with how his heart fluttered in his chest once every thirty seconds when he thought about his fake date, he silently wished for him to come and end his agony once and for all. Sooner or later he was going to have a seizure from anxiety.
“Where’s Luffy?” Zoro was surprised to find the Straw Hat was absent among his friends.
“He’s over there eating.” Chopper poked his head from behind the couple and pointed at the buffet on the other side of the hall where Luffy was stuffing stupendous amounts of food into his mouth. Shaking his head, Zoro turned back to Chopper and took in the young Moroi’s attire, noting that his usually straight brown hair was wavy probably thanks to Vivi. “I wanted to make him stay until we’ve all arrived but of course he wouldn’t listen.” The young Moroi sighed.
“Of course he won’t.” Zoro prayed that black-haired Moroi hadn’t already had all the food on the table stuffed into the bottomless pit of a stomach of his, but he imagined that would most likely be the case right now. Even Zeff might have a bit of a headache throughout the evening trying to keep up with his appetite, the swordsman thought with a chuckle.
“Hey everyone! Ow! You all look super spectacular!”
Mr Franky approached the squad with a jovial smile, his arm linked with Miss Robin’s. The couple looked like they were made for each other, with Miss Robin’s elegant lavender dress and Mr Franky’s light blue suit, the colours contrasting each other yet not clashing. The blue-haired Dhampir joined his wrists above his head and tilted his body to the side, striking a comical pose that didn’t suit his attire. His fiancé softly slapped his forearms in an amused warning to stop him from fooling around, and the muscular Dhampir quickly obeyed and straightened up.
Soon, Mr Brook and Jinbei also joined the squad, adding more laughter and excitement to the party. Everyone exchanged compliments on each other’s attires, as well as polite greetings between teachers and students whom they haven't seen in a long time, and the friend group was soon surrounded by chuckles and smiles.
Miss Robin happily smiled at the student couples joined at the hip, and when her eyes fell on the swordsman in solitude, she asked softly, “Where’s your date? Zoro?”
Zoro opened his mouth to answer.
“I’m right here, Miss Robin.”
Nico Robin’s eyes widened at the blond who slowly approached the squad, then the corner of her lips lifted in a tiny smile of amusement and a glint of gratification flashed in her eyes. For some reason, she looked almost relieved at the revelation.
Franky’s jaw was on the floor. “Fuck me, it’s about damn time.” He mumbled, and a smirk identical to Robin’s slowly taking over his complexion.
The other jaw on the floor was Zoro’s.
Sanji was wearing a flawless creamy white suit with a vest of the same colour, and Zoro couldn’t help but notice how the suit perfectly highlighted his slim physique and the golden proportion of his body. The suit was simple and it should have appeared boring, but the cook wore it with such poise and confidence that the Moroi seemed to be glowing. It didn’t help that his usual straight hair was curled in waves, possibly also done with the help of Vivi. “Sorry I’m late. I have to protect the cake from Luffy so that took a while.”
Nami and Usopp snickered at the swordsman’s reaction, Vivi’s eyes were soft, Chopper was peeking at the two through the gaps of his fingers, and their teachers were smiling widely exchanging knowing glances.
“Cook,” Zoro croaked, swallowing thickly as his feet rooted to the ground, and a word was all he could manage. There was something happening in his chest, as if something was about to burst his bosom open but at the same time filling him with a warm and fuzzy feeling. He couldn’t tell if that was a pleasant experience.
The cook looked him up and down in equal fascination, and Zoro saw a small, wry smile tugged at his lips when his eyes landed on the three earrings on his earlobe. “My, my, even the idiot Mosshead can look good in a decent outfit, I’m surprised.”
The back-handed compliment didn’t help with how Zoro’s tongue was way too big in his mouth, and he was unable to bite back like he used to. Sanji laughed at his reaction and flung an arm around the swordsman’s shoulder, “What, are you too mesmerized by my handsomeness? Get yourself together, Mossball.”
Zoro winced at how Sanji’s joke was a bit too close to the truth.
“I think we should get Luffy. At this rate he’s gonna devour everything on the table,” Desperately holding back a laugh, Nami suggested, successfully drawing the cook’s attention away from the unmistakable bright red face of the swordsman, “Sanji-kun?”
“No problem, Nami-san! Anything for my mellorine!” The cook swooned and glided towards the tables in a pink tornado.
Zoro grumbled when the cook was out of earshot. “I swear, we should never do something like this ever again. It’s not good for my heart and worst of all, he’ll know.”
“Then let him know! I’m so sick and tired of watching you two dance around each other.” Nami rolled her eyes, sneaking an arm around Vivi’s waist, “The sooner you idiots actually acknowledge the very obvious feelings you have for each other, the better.”
“We don’t dance around each other. The cook doesn’t even have—”
“Hello! Welcome to the Christmas Ball everyone has been hoping for!” A bright and cheerful voice echoed in the hall through the amplification of the speakers. “I’m Ace, today’s MC.”
Zoro turned to find the black-haired Moroi on stage, illuminated by several stage lights on him. Luffy, now returned to his friends’ side dragged by Sanji, was waving aggressively at his brother. Ace was, as always, as bright as a lone star in a night sky or a bonfire in an endless dune. The cook’s eyes were on the Moroi in an instant and Zoro felt the desire to punch something, and he had to hold back the urge to drag the cook away from the stage.
“I’m sure we’re all thrilled to be having fun soon, so I won’t be a bad host and keep you all excited asses waiting.“ Ace huffed a hearty laugh, “Now, let the celebrations begin!”
The hall roared with the vampires’ yells and cheers.
“My dear brother Sabo will be handing out votes for Prom King and Queen!” Cried Ace, chuckling at the exasperated look the said brother threw his way downstage. Sabo never enjoyed any form of attention drawn to himself and Ace always loved to make sure he was showered in it. “Please cast your votes before 4 o’clock and we will announce the winners at 6!”
The Christmas Ball started with the vampires taking their seats at the round tables scattered across the hall, and soon Zeff and several other chefs from the academy brought in plate after plate of steaming food onto the tables. Luffy chose the largest round table and urged their favourite teachers to join them, who accepted his invitation more than willingly.
The Moroi with the Straw Hat stood tall on his chair with one foot on the table and raised his glass of milk in his hand. “Happy graduation to Zoro, Sanji, Nami and Vivi!” He yelled, a bright smile lighting up his face.
“You dumbass, graduation’s a week away.” Nami sighed and shook her head, but failed to conceal the affection in her voice, “It’s early Merry Christmas for now!”
Everyone clinked their glasses with one another and soon the table was filled with the clinks of utensils. Luffy announced that his stomach could wait no longer and proceeded to stick his rubber arms into the food, earning a smack from Nami who told him to behave. Vivi chuckled at the sight, not minding Luffy’s bluntness despite her education on royal mannerism, and grabbed a piece of candy to hand it to Chopper. The to-be-doctor shrieked in happiness and took it with a “This doesn’t make me happy at all!” Usopp grumpily picked the mushrooms from his omelette and put them onto Kaya’s plate, who made no protest and smiled gently at the Dhampir.
On the other end of the table, Zoro and Sanji competed in downing their glasses as fast as they could, to only get into a heated banter when Zoro insisted that Sanji cheated for getting the smaller glass. They were both frozen in fear when their childhood nightmare reenacted in the form of Miss Robin’s plant-like arms emerging between them, causing Mr Franky to burst into boisterous laughter. Brook took an elegant sip from his English tea and offered to pour Jinbei one, who accepted with a cheery chuckle.
At that very moment, Zoro knew he was the happiest, with the most important people in his life gathering around a table, smiling and laughing without a care in the world.
The king of the dance, to everyone’s surprise, was Cavendish. All the vampires seemed to simultaneously vote for the notorious “Prince Cabbage” as a joke when he hung around every table reminding his classmates that the paper wouldn’t vote itself, and that they better do it a favour and cast the vote for him. The joke then immediately turned to Cavendish’s favour when everyone else in the room did the same, and so now Usopp stared at the Moroi with a trickle of sweat down his forehead, watching the Moroi posing for several cameras on him.
On the other hand, the title of queen of the dance belonged to Hiyori, so they earned a slow dance in front of the whole school for the duration of one song. Other vampires soon filled in the spaces surrounding the pair, and Zoro’s heart dropped to his stomach when a glint of mischief sparkled in Nami’s eyes.
“Zoro,” The orange-haired Moroi spoke in a low volume, but one that could be heard by the cook, “You better dance with Sanji so your… facade would be more convincing to Hiyori. She’s looking your way.” Then the Moroi tugged her girlfriend by the hand and disappeared in the crowd gathering on the dance floor, leaving the scowling swordsman with his date.
Zoro noticed that Sanji had blushed a pretty shade of crimson overhearing their conversation, so he turned to him and shook his head, “You don’t have to do this. You’ve already done enough—”
“It’s okay.” Sanji interrupted, and Zoro stared at him in surprise, noting the Moroi’s darting glances around the hall that wouldn’t land on him, “Let’s do it.”
They slowly made their way to the dance floor.
The swordsman could feel Hiroyi’s eyes on them, but every other rational thought flew out of his head when Sanji moved into his space. Zoro felt his throat constrict when his calloused fingers wrapped around the cook’s, the scars and roughness of his hand contrasting the cook’s smooth and delicate one. He faintly registered that the cook had placed his other hand on his shoulder, so he in turn, tensely but carefully held the Moroi’s waist. They started swaying to the song, their bodies stiff but not awkward, and Zoro had to silently will the butterflies to stop fluttering in his stomach.
“Sorry for… all of this.” Zoro held up their interlinked hands, “You know, for using you to reject Hiyori. I probably ruined your chance of asking a pretty girl to dance.”
“It’s okay, I don’t really mind.” Sanji shrugged, still not quite meeting Zoro’s eyes, “Besides, I didn’t really have anyone in mind to ask when you rejected her.”
“Really? You didn’t?” Not even Pudding? Zoro’s eyes widened. “I’ve always thought… A stupid hopeless romantic like you would... You know.”
Sanji’s eyes were downcast. Zoro knew he was struggling with some immense conflict inside of him, and though he wanted to do anything in his power to help the cook, in that moment he had no idea what it was and could do nothing about it.
“Listen, Zoro,” There was an edge to his voice that clutched at the swordsman’s heart, “I… don’t know if I could ever be with someone.” He bit at his lips, then started hesitantly, “Moss, I’m— I’m not— loveable.”
What?
He couldn’t believe it. Sanji, unlovable?
Zoro could have kept it all to himself. The happiness, the jealousy, the longing, all the feelings that had been swelling in his chest ever since they had their first fight in those classroom walls painted with the last touch of dusk, he could have taken them to his grave. He could have just locked them up forever and let them rot away, and he would have been content if Sanji never realised. But it was at this moment that he knew he had to tell him, when the cook had said something as ridiculous as that. Even though Sanji could withdraw in disgust, apologize in regret or even worse, look at him with pity. Even though he was possibly uprooting the flower that was their friendship, plucking off the petals that had grown for over nine years, he had to say it because those emotions filling up his heart was overflowing and he was desperately gasping for air. Sanji needed to know.
“I love you.”
The words had blurted out before he could stop himself.
Sanji's eyes widened in shock, his hand frozen in Zoro’s. The cook looked petrified.
“I’m too selfish to let anyone else take you to the dance. I did this because I wanted to, not just to reject Hiyori.” Zoro’s words caught at his throat, the tremor in his hand so evident he was certain Sanji could feel it, his mouth dry as a desert, “Listen, I don’t need an answer from you. I just wanted you to know I have always loved you and I just can’t hide it anymore. I don’t know why you would ever say that, but you are loveable. So loveable, you have no idea.”
How could you say you’re unlovable when I love you like a moth drawn to a flame?
I love you. Your eyes, your hair, your hands, your cooking, your laughter, your scowls and your tears, they are beautiful. You are beautiful. And even though I’m probably not the first person you’d want by your side, I just want to stay with you. I wouldn’t care if you never laid your eyes on me again.
Zoro wasn’t a man of regrets and he wouldn’t be one now. If Sanji pushed him away, he would shut up and pretend none of this ever happened. That was a price Zoro was willing to pay if he could make Sanji understand just how lovable he was. His own feelings didn’t matter. Time could always heal a broken heart.
To the swordsman’s surprise, there was not a glint of repel nor disgust in the cook’s face. If anything, he looked… happy, even ecstatic. And maybe, just maybe— his feelings were not unrequited like he thought they were. But the cook’s eyes were sad. Zoro frowned at the conflicting emotions in the vampire in front of him, failing to understand what was going on in the blond’s mind.
“Zoro, I—” Sanji shook his head in disbelief, his voice breaking, “If this is some kind of a sick joke I need you to tell me right now.”
“It’s not.” The swordsman said desperately, wanting to shake this damn cook awake, “Don’t you understand? It’s been nine years since I’ve had feelings for you. What makes you think you can’t be loved by someone? Do you think Luffy and the others are here with you because we hate you?”
“No, it’s just—” The Moroi’s lips trembled, “There’s something I haven’t told you. I swear, I didn’t mean to keep anything from anyone, especially you, I just never had the right time to tell. Zoro, I’m not who you think I am. If you knew, you won’t be saying the same things to me.”
“What— what do you mean?” Zoro stopped them in the middle of the swaying crowd, his hands flying to Sanji’s shoulders and searching for his eyes.
A bloodcurdling scream echoed in the corridors outside the hall.
The hall immediately fell into dead silence as every vampire stilled and the slow music halted soon after.
Zoro pushed Sanji behind him on pure instinct and roamed his eyes around the hall for the source of the piercing shrill. His guardian senses told him that something had gone terribly wrong.
“What was that?” Sanji whispered.
“I don’t know, just stay close to me.” Zoro curled his hand around the blond’s wrist and eyed the distance between them and the table where he left his three swords.
A guardian ran into the hall, and the blood running down his cheeks caused a collective gasp among the crowd.
“There’s— there’s Strigoi in the academy!”
‧₊˚ ⋅ ⚔︎‧₊˚𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅
TBC