Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Wait, the god of war is your patron?” Anakin asked, confused.

Zoro supposed that wouldn’t be common knowledge. Unlike other devotees, he didn’t go around broadcasting it. He believed that his hard work showed more for his efforts rather than peacocking around.

He shrugged, “He was more like an annoying ear worm.”

There was a fresh round of snacks piled on the table. Some kind of pastry thing that Zoro didn’t bother catching the name of as the three members of his audience had ordered their food. They hadn’t asked if he wanted any and they didn’t stop him when he leaned over to take a one, the thing flaking in his mouth, so he guessed either they were too scared to tell him to fuck off or he was welcome.

The story so far had gone on a bit longer than he had expected. Zoro hadn’t meant to get quite so into detail with it all but—

It had been so long since he had any sort of company other than Mihawk and Perona, he would take anything he could get. And, anyways, it wasn’t like he was pining for company or anything, he just didn’t like that they apparently got him so wrong in their stories. And they had information on his crew. That, too. 

Obi gave him a skeptical look. Yeah. Most humans wouldn’t understand. Gods were cool as shit but they were never worth the effort in most cases.

“What do you mean?” Samoel asked eagerly.

“Like, I’d be doing anything and his annoying ass voice would go MURDER.”

They looked at him, stunned.

“I did say he was annoying.” Zoro repeated. “I learned to mainly tune him out, especially when others were present.”

“Like now?”

****

The cave reeked of straw, damp, and the unmistakable scent of animals. If he hadn’t known any better, he would think he were stepping into an animal farm. It was enough to cause his nose to twitch, musky as it was, but enough to spur him forward in his hunger.

“Who goes there?” A voice cried out from behind him, outside of the cave.

For fuck’s sake, he really couldn’t catch a break, could he? He just wanted food. He didn’t remember scavenging for food being this hard before he had friends. He just had to kill a monster and let his survival training take the wheel. Simple, straightforward. It was all just a breeze. No fancy cook around to spoil him with mouth-watering meals and ruining his taste for anything else.

Whatever.

Zoro marched deeper into the cave, his focus set, the darkness closing in around him. He had no time for interruptions, he was just so fucking hungry.

”Hold up, already! Show your face!” Someone shouted, their voice closer this time, as they lunged to grab his shoulder.

He moved instinctively, turning on them with a deadly glare.

”Touch me again and you’ll lose a hand.”

The threat escaped Zoro’s lips before he even registered who was standing in front of him. He froze, his jaw dropping in disbelief, what even was his life anymore? He hadn’t seen these two in months—not since everything that had happened with Nami—and now they had the audacity to show up again?

What was this, was his life some kind of twisted carousel ride, spinning around to bring back old faces at the most inconvenient moments?

”Johnny? Yosaku?”

The two figures before him stood wide-eyed, their faces lit up with grins that seemed almost too bright for a cave like this. Johnny laughter filled the air, a mix of relief and excitement, and Yosaku, bouncing on his heels, struggled to contain his own mirth.

”Zoro! We thought you were someone else!” Johnny giggled.

Yosaku chimed in, “Yeah, you almost gave us a heart attack, what are you doing here? Where’s that crew of yours?”

Zoro stared at them, feeling out of place amongst their cheer. They were important to him, characters from a previous arc in his story that he had never thought he would see again until he finished his journey. He only ever knew them when he was alone, when that had all he had known for years, and now that he was alone again, they had come back like a bad omen.

But, the sight of them, unknowing of what had transpired to him, made his mouth twitch. Not quite a smile, and not quite for happiness, either, maybe pride that they had made it here on their own, but it was only a twitch. In the end, he dipped his head in acknowledgment of their presence, a welcome thing, and they didn’t look like they cared about his continued silence.

Besides, them not knowing about the fate of his crew could have meant many things. Either this island was cut out from postal services, or it hadn’t been that long for there to have needed a postal service about his crew being decimated. Or they were just stupid, who knew.

Zoro narrowed his eyes at Johnny and Yosaku, but his stomach growled loudly, reminding him of his initial objective.

"What does it look like I’m doing? I’m trying to find something to eat," Zoro muttered, his tone as gruff as ever. "You two still haven’t learned to stay out of trouble, huh?"

Johnny and Yosaku exchanged glances, their grins faltering slightly before Johnny spoke up again. "We got a campfire a little ways from here, some food too. You’re welcome to join us, bro."

He expected them to rib him, too, but maybe he looked much worse than he had thought for them to be pitying him like this.

“T̶̞͓͉̟͘H̵̛͙E̵̝͕̻͔̯̽͒̽̂Y̷͍͇̟̫̻͂͑ ̷̺̔T̴̡͖͍̳͑̆̚H̶͓͂̓͗̅͝I̸̩͔͠N̴̢̫̼͌̀ͅK̶͕̮̭̊ ̸͛̇͆̿̐ͅȚ̸̤̟̈̌̃H̵͖̻̑̋E̵͔̿̍̿Y̷̘͑̊ ̵̮͗C̵̡̪̝̔A̸̖͐̾́́Ṋ̷̝̟̓͝ ̴͉̱̻̲̃̐Ṕ̵̼̒͂̈̚R̸̢̛͇̬̳̽̈̕ͅO̴̺̱̝̻͂̿V̴͇̠̼̇̐Î̷͎͇̹̲̇̀͝D̸̡̤̦͈͋̈̀͝Ḛ̶̡̪͔̈́ ̴͕̟̱́͝F̶̤͊̿Ỏ̷̢̦̮͌R̴̤̳͙̮͆̓̉ͅ ̶̖̯͈͚́̈́̋̌Ỳ̴͈̄ͅO̷̙͈͎̰̔̀̊̊U̴̟̜͑̾̕ ̴͍̹͕̀̑̇̀͝A̶̮͂͆͌Ȓ̶̗͎͌̚ͅE̸͓̩͕͓͋ ̷͉̰͗͆T̸͔̺͍͔͑ͅH̸̦̜͍͍̎E̸̢̞͌́̔͆͛Y̷̰̹͉̍ ̶͙͓͇̟̃̊͝D̸͙̉̓̊̊Ù̴̡̱̤̺͖̐̓͆M̶̹̬̣̳̩̽B̸̗͕̟͖͒̄̀̐́?̴̠̮͎̻̩̐͛̊̅̚”

Fuck, he had forgotten Ares was there, just loitering in his mind like some kind of leach. Of course his first comment on seeing these morons again was some kind of tough guy act. The same kind of act that Zoro used to try to emulate to appear tough but that was neither here nor there.

Theyrebeingnicetheyrebeingnice

“N̷̠̅̋̄́͝I̶̡͝C̴̣̿̀̓̉͘É̷̙̇?̸̥̮̹̒̇͜ ̸̡͓̒͜Ì̴̘̱̈͝Ś̸̡̬͑͆̊̊ ̵͇̟̖̦̹̎̄̔T̵̟͂̌̂͠ͅH̶̼͌A̶̘͓͊̀̚T̴̥͎̐́̐͜ ̴̱̺͈̻̊̀͒W̶̧̖̞̉͜Ḧ̴̨̛̹̰͛̂Ȃ̸̼̱̉͌̎́T̸̥̣̥́͗͜ ̷̯͇̭͍̱͌̏̕Y̶͚̭̪̗̼͂̆̓Ó̷̻̆U̸̢̨͇͍͗̃͝͠͝ ̴̜̐̀̇͐͝N̴͖͚̞̙̑͒͆͑͝Ẽ̴̛̮̹̥̰̚͜E̸̼̯̎̏͋̕Ḋ̵͖͛̉̈́ ̶̼̳̋̓͐̈̌R̴̩̻̦̄̅͛̈́̀I̶̮̓́͐G̸̙̿͜͝Ḣ̵͕̘̰̼̓̕T̸̘̖̭̈́̑ ̵̡̞̭̃̋͋͒N̷̗͕̐̇͐̅͜͝O̵͉̥̿͊̃̈Ẅ̴̧͚̘́̿̔͝?̶̙̆̽̄ ̷̡̺̥̳͋ͅN̵̟̚I̸̥͆̒̃͠C̵̡̧̱̪̏̐̓͒E̴̫͔̎̾̂̌̋?̷̢̦̞̯͊̿ ̸͕̭̅̕͘Ÿ̴̹́͆͘Õ̵̖͇̟̗̫̉͑͘U̷̢̺͚͘R̸̪̩̹̭̬͋̚͘ ̸̠͖͈̇̉F̸̝̺͚̾̂͂A̵̗̿M̷̢͖͍̠̥̽͐̆́͝I̵̝͉̘̓͆͒L̴̛͔̲̗͓̗͑̿Y̷̻̙̾͌͋̆̍ ̵̟̟̼̈́W̷̧̝̳̻̮͒̉͛̀́Á̴̗̘͎͆S̶̭̺̀͆ ̵͙͘͘͝͝Ṫ̸̡͚̱Ă̸̻̗͖̾̅́̚Ķ̷̳͍̲͉̀̍̚E̵̛͇̱̅͗Ņ̷̝̰̞͗̆ ̴̩͘F̸̠̻̑͊̀R̶̛͔͒̓Ó̶̡̙̲̝͎M̴̰̞̂ ̸͈̰̏Y̸̖̦̐̿̍̍O̸̞̹̙̾̍̓͜Ŭ̷̙̙̼͈̫̓̋̌̓”

Yeah, he was going to ignore that comment. Zoro hesitated for a moment, his mind racing. The thought of a warm meal tugged at his hunger-ridden body and if Johnny and Yosaku had food, it would save him time and effort.

"Fine," Zoro grumbled, turning to follow them. "But if you don’t have enough to eat, I’m not sticking around to babysit you two."

Yes.

Yes, he would.

And they knew it.

Johnny and Yosaku led the way, weaving through the thick underbrush with a surprising ease that Zoro almost envied. Keyword, almost. Throughout his entire life, Zoro stomped his way through things, literally and metaphorically. It was easy, it came naturally to him, and so what if he got a few scrapes on the way?

Not that he was currently getting scrapes as they walked, totally not.

There was a tickling sensation at his neckline and he scuffed at it with a hand, a few lotus petals sticking to his sweating palm. Huh. They must have stuck to him as he left.

The faint light from their campfire flickered in the distance, casting a warm, orange glow that was barely visible through the trees. The path was uneven, rocks jutting out from the earth, roots snaking across their feet as if trying to trip them up. But Zoro kept his balance, his senses sharp despite the gnawing hunger.

The air was cooler out here, away from the oppressive heat of the cave, and the wind carried with it the scent of wood smoke, mixed with the faint aroma of roasting meat. It made Zoro’s stomach growl even louder, but he ignored it, his focus now split between the food and the odd sense of calm he felt walking alongside these familiar idiots.

Johnny and Yosaku didn’t say much as they first started to walk, which suited Zoro just fine. Their usual energetic banter was toned down, and Zoro wondered if they could sense the weight of the exhaustion hanging on his shoulders. They weren’t dumb, after all—annoying, yes, but not dumb. They must have known something had gone down, but they didn’t press him for answers.

They slowly, quietly passed around stories of their own tales: running from bars, almost getting married, almost dying, a particularly hard bounty. All things that Zoro may have taken part in if things had gone differently. Zoro only hummed out his responses but they didn’t mind, only taking it as encouragement to continue.

The crunch of leaves and twigs underfoot was the only sound that punctuated the silence, broken occasionally by Johnny’s quiet laughter or Yosaku humming to himself. After what felt like an eternity, they reached the clearing. The campfire came into full view, its flames crackling and snapping in the quiet night.

Just a few steps away from the fire was a pile of supplies, some neatly stacked due to their shape, and others haphazardly thrown about. From what he could spy, it was the remains of whatever animal they had skinned to roast over the fire, the fleece bloodied and furry.

Zoro eyed the fire, noticing the meat slowly charring over the flames. He huffed, thinking they were fools for leaving it to burn. But then again, it wasn’t really his problem. If Johnny and Yosaku wanted to ruin their meal, that was their choice.

Except that it was his problem seeing as they asked for him to share their food.

Oh, fuck, what if they forgot to salt it?

Oh, fuck, Sanji has now, from beyond his grave—maybe if he joked about it, it’ll make him feel better—brainwashed him into believing it was normal to carry around seasoning packets.

“Why are you looking at it so weirdly?” Johnny laughed, poking his cheek.

“…you added salt, right?” He hated that he had to ask.

”…why would we carry salt around?” Yosaku asked carefully.

“W̷̼̤̥͂̐͊Ḧ̷̱̰̟́͗͂͠Y̵̢̻͔̾͆̅̄ ̸̩͊͘W̵̼̅O̴̺̘̜̞̔͜U̴̞̦̞̩̐͛̀̌̚L̵̛̖̼̩̋Ḋ̷̜̟̗̰͂ͅ ̷͚͓̟͈̋͜T̷̡̈͌͐̄͠H̵͎͙͆̍͛Ė̸͔̳̭̪Y̷̺͌̏̓͝ ̸̛̝͙͕̀̕C̵̲̼̥͕̱̈́͠Ả̵̘̫̾̒͐̂R̷̞͈͐̃̈R̷͙͌̽Y̴̢̍ ̵͕̼̈A̸̜̳̔̿̆͝͝R̶͇͌͝Ọ̵͐̑̋̒Ǔ̵̘̞͈̹͛́̍͝N̴͎͂̾̏D̷̬͆̒̐ ̶̻̊́͐S̶̞̈́Á̴̗͍̖̀͠͠͝L̴̥̠̜̅̆͐T̶̰̝̥̠̾̒̃͛?̷̫̫͔̋́̒”

Oh, suddenly he was the weird one?

“Y̵̠̪̙̪̺̔͑̀͋̋Ę̵̦͚̿̀̍͝S̷̮̅͒”

It can’t be that weird if Curly constantly did it!

“Ḩ̵̥͉͍̺̖̑̑͌͘ͅḘ̸̝͂̀̇͐́͌͗̊̀͠’̶̡̫̺͎̔̐̌͒̕͠͝S̸͈̘̩̦͒̍̅̓ͅͅ ̶͓͎̆̐̑̍͑̕W̶̝̜̣̆͛͑̊͆Ě̶̛̳͙͙̘̹̻̭̹̠͌̃͌͊Į̷̹͚̼̭͓͎̹̄̇̃̚R̴̨̨͚̬̤̯̫̹̾͘Ḍ̶̨͔̜̦͖̲̙̹̣̈́́,̵̡̧̫͇͔̭͕̰̔͛̄́̕̚͜ ̵̝̦̬͔̟̜̭̳̻̊͋̓T̵͎͕̪̉͊̑̒͑̕͜Ồ̸̯̾̾̄́͛͝O̶̢͂̀̊͝.̷̛͔̙̉̒͘͜”

Yeah, at least they agreed on that.

Zoro sighed and sat by the fire, resigning himself to the sad and bland meal ahead. Sanji had spoiled him, them, no doubt about it. He couldn’t believe he missed that idiot’s cooking. And, well, the effort he put into cooking. If there was one thing that Zoro could admire was effort and Sanji had it in spades.

There were days when the kitchen ran out of salt and they were nowhere near land. The first time it had happened, Luffy had panicked, sobbing about bland food. While the guy was able to eat meat in any form, he had grown accustomed to the yummy food Sanji would create. Luffy’s wails had caused a commotion and panic that Sanji had put a stop to quickly.

They had all watched as Sanji collected—Zoro collected—a pot of seawater and placed it on the stove. Even with all the doors and windows open, the room had become heady and hot with steam but the cook had assured them it was normal for the slow-ass process. The liquid slowly disappeared to leave behind the barest traces of salt.

It was underwhelming, to say the least, but Zoro had been amazed.

Zoro hadn’t expected to care. Cooking was a waste of time in his book, a means to an end. Yet, watching Sanji, he found himself impressed.

He remembered Sanji babbling excitedly as they all fanned themselves around the kitchen. There was a spark in his eyes, something that only ever occurred when he was truly excited, and he was excited to just share this experience with them all.

So, yeah, maybe the salt yield was pathetic, but Sanji had looked so fucking happy it kinda made up for all of it, even that smug look that shit had after making a whole bunch throughout the day.

He shook the memory off and sighed again, pulling himself back to the present.

“Guess we're eating it plain, then.” He sighed and sat by the fire.

“Y̴̨̢̺͙̔͒̅̈́̿̕Ǫ̵͎͚̯̠̙̓̒͑͆̒̚U̴̧̜͎̘͊̀̍͒̌̅̇͛͘͜Ȓ̴̰̞͚̤͉͈̝͐̓̎̎̑͐̈́Ė̸̡̻̹̯͒̀̓͆̀ ̴͓̑̑͐͐͝T̴̪͚͙̈́̆̀̀̾̚͝͝U̵̥̥̘̝̽̓̎́̈́̕͘͝Ȓ̷̢̨̙͚͈̿̅̽̏̽ͅN̷̦̜͈̿̓̎̈́̋́͗̕̚ͅḮ̴̛̠̝Ṇ̵̛̮͌͒͗̄G̶̢̖̝̅͌̆̎̆̃͊͋͆́ ̴̨̢̠̪͒̾̐̈́́͌I̸̗̖͍̊́̇̾N̶̢̯̙͍̠͍̯̤͙̾̒̓̎T̶̩͎̺͉̝͙̍̀̅̾͑̈͆̚͠O̸̟̝̤͑ ̵̙̩͚͙͙̍̈͆̈́̂͜Ḁ̶̧̢̱̜̯̞͑̓͑̾́̐͝ ̴̬̙̎́̊͆͂̋̉͘͘R̸̨͈̣̤͙̠͍̰̈͋̆̃̅̐̍ͅÈ̵̡̨̜͖͓̲͗͗̂̌̋̐̉̃͘͜Á̸̛̻̮͙̣̩̦̗̂̓́̚ͅL̶̡̟̺̀̍ ̸̦̦̣̬̫̃͗͋̉̕͜͠C̸̡̱̘͕̟͎͙͕̀̆͐H̸̛̟̍́̄̈́̀͒͛Ȩ̵̖͚̠͙͕̥̻̀̋̐͛̋̎ͅF̴͔̫̙̻͎̟͐͒̾̅̀̇̆.̶͍͖̮͔̜̟̏”

Oh, he couldn’t let Ares get away with that. This god had to be educated.

Cook. I’m turning into a real cook.

Zoro can practically hear Sanji’s scream from here.

Johnny and Yosaku exchanged a glance before sitting down across from him, clearly not quite sure what to say.

“So, uhhhh, what happened to that stretchy guy? Puffy?” Johnny asked, the name mangled beyond recognition.

He could hear Ares’ maniacal laughter in his head. Zoro wondered what happened to that impressive god that had shaken him to his core all those years ago. Ares had been impressive. Maybe it was when he had met Luffy. No one could compare to him in anything that maybe Ares lost his luster in Zoro’s eyes.

“Luffy.” Zoro corrected immediately, his tone sharp and protective.

“Luffy.” Yosaku nodded sagely. “Didn’t you pledge your life to him or something? Real romantic like?”

Sure.

“Ḯ̸̢̯̟̠̳͔̺̦̺̖̒͌́͒̌́̃͗͝Ṭ̴̹̳̼̖͍̭̄̔̽ ̸̙̠͙̲͖̯̦̯̈̓͊͌̉̐̑W̵͚̞̋̑̒̀̃̒Ȧ̷̻̼̗S̸̞͓̦̫̺͙̿̀̂̌͝ ̵̟̖̥̝̘̈́̾P̸̺͈͎̯͖̐̀́Ṟ̷̘̮͍͈͈̫̭̲̓͆̃͂̚͘̕Ẻ̷̛̪̤̟̺̖̙͎̫͕͖̊͝Ṭ̸̝̙̤͓̂̾̍͐͒̽̌͑͂͝T̶͈͚̲̣͚̠̹͙̭̈́̃̆̊̀̀̒̿͠Y̶̘̳̣̬͕͔̞̣͚͒̈́ ̶̟͙͓̝̤̐̑͆͂͒̋̕R̸̩͈͙̠̤̟͔̺̈́̓́̄̅͒̌O̷̤̟̠͉̿M̷̢̛̲̩̺̗̱͚̳̟A̴͚̲͔͖̻͓̣̘͌͛̉̌Ń̷͓̹̩̦̝̲̬͗̋̉̑͛͒̑͜T̶͇͕̈́̀̐͐͗̀ͅĨ̴̲̞͆̌̓̍̍͐̚͘͝C̸̡̠̜̞̦͍̖͎͑͂̄̀̓͘”

”We got separated.” Zoro said curtly.

“R̴͇̜͊̍̓͒̿Ḛ̷̠͕͖̍͌̔̏͐V̷̖̺̲̑̽É̷̪̰͕͑̅̂͗N̷͎̤̽̂̽̾̔G̴̗̹̃̈́͘Ȅ̸̢̜͙̠̂̂̚.”

Contrary to belief, Zoro wasn’t wild on revenge. In his mind, revenge shackled a person in their bitterness, obscuring their view. That could make a person unpredictable. Of course, he wasn’t immune to the occasional petty remark or singling out particular people in battles, but he wouldn’t dedicate his entire life for eliminating someone.

He hadn’t understood that feeling until now.

Whatever he was feeling, it was dysfunctional but it gave him a function: find that short little guy and gut him and get his crew back.

“Yeah, we’re gonna need a lot more than that.” Johnny chirped, leaning forward eagerly. “We’ve just been no contact with the world for months, we don’t even know where you went after saving Orange Girl.”

Ah, where times were simpler.

When the only problem Zoro had was a known thief being in their crew and running off.

“Well,” Zoro began, crossing his arms, “For starters, we have a lot more people in our crew. Captain, Luffy. Me. Witch. Ussop. Love-cook. Cute reindeer. Book nerd. Robot? A literal skeleton.”

The expressions on Johnny and Yosaku’s faces cycled through shock, confusion, and disbelief—a whole buffet of emotions flashing across their faces.

“Why is Ussop the only one without a name?”

“Love-cook? You do pet names now?”

“How could a reindeer be cute?”

“Why is robot a question?”

“A literal skeleton?”

“Why was the book nerd the only one you didn’t question?” Zoro muttered. “She’s the most infamous of us all, she’s Robin.”

Their jaws dropped.

“You have Nico Robin as a part of your crew?”

Okay, so maybe he forgot how crazy the range of people was. Sue him.

Every time Luffy accepted another member of their crew under his wing, Zoro had to brace himself to a new personality. Luffy was boisterous in a way Zoro hadn’t been since he was as child, not since a funeral he remembered very clearly. Nami had been infuriating, knowing that she may leave them high and dry but having no proof other than her profession and his gut feeling. Now she was just annoying. Ussop left his tools anywhere and everywhere, always fretting about some screwdriver falling overboard even though Zoro warned him. Franky and his swimsuit.

The less said about Sanji, the better.

why you worried about him?

”Recap please.” They begged in unison, looking at him like he’d just spun the wildest tale of all time, like he was Ussop.

“We went into the Grand Line,” Zoro said,”Nami got sick almost immediately. We found Chopper, the cure reindeer, because he came along with the doctor that managed to cure her and the others that also ended up sick. He’s a cute reindeer.”

The last he had seen, Chopper had been in his office before the battle had begun. A few islands back, Robin has bought and gifted him three new published research papers that he had been hoping to find on their journey. Chopper finally had the time to read them, annotate them, and reconfigure his own work with these new ideas in mind. Zoro, in the morning, had taken a nap in the office while the kid worked away and had woken up when Sanji had provided the two of them with breakfast.

During the fight, Chopper hadn’t transformed, sticking to the sidelines. Zoro hadn’t understood at the time, why he wouldn’t transform, but he remembered a collection of vials being hugged close to his chest. Maybe he was worried something would happen to them. It didn’t matter in the end, though, they had all spilt on the deck when Chopper was sent away.

“Again, how is he cute?” Yosaku asked, still stuck on the idea of an adorable reindeer.

Zoro raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed, “You trying to say he’s ugly?”

“N-no…”

“Then freed an island and Robin kinda invited herself onto the crew.”

“And you don’t say no?” Johnny asked, incredulous.

“Anyways—“

“Anyways? How does someone just invite herself into a crew? What does that even mean?” Yosaku interrupted.

“Doesn’t matter,” Zoro waved it off but by their faces, they begged to differ, “Point is, Robin technically but also didn’t betray us.”

“Excuse me?”

He was not about to explain that, private as it was and also weirdly public news. If they wanted any kind of summary, they'd have to find an old newspaper. He wasn’t going to touch it with a ten foot pole, not when it was her story to tell.

The last he had seen of her had been lounging on a beach chair with Nami before the battle. Her long legs had been crossed over one another with a book cradled in her elegant hands. There were a pair of shades perched on her head, a matching pair to Nami’s, and her attention was equally divided between what she was reading and what Nami had been saying. There was a lot of giggling, he remembered, both their faces cherry red under the heat and their eyes sparkling.

Due to their close proximity, they had been parked together during the fight, back to back and smirking. He had only caught a flash of their joint carnage. That shorty’s numbers had nothing on the strength of their crew, but it seemed their element of surprise was what done them in.

“We saved her with Franky’s help. He's a cyborg, not a robot… kinda a human but… cyborg? Whatever. He’s just Franky to me.”

Franky had been somewhere. He wasn’t exactly lucid before the battle. After all, he had thought it was all a dream before Sanji had kicked—did that happen?—his head in.

“And what about the skeleton?” 

Zoro paused, then smirked. “What about Brook? He wanted us to save his island and we did and he’s now part of us.”

“But why is he a skeleton?”

“Because I ate his skin.” Zoro’s smirk grew even wider.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Johnny frowned, trying to gauge if Zoro was serious.

“Oh, he’s fucking with us, he’s not a skeleton.”

Zoro couldn’t wait until they saw the news.

They didn’t look like they liked his silence on the matter, either.

“We were about to reach the Red Line.” Zoro said.

“You guys made it so far so quickly?”

“Yeah.” Zoro said, a touch of pride slipping through. “There was only one island we could go to but we never got to reach it. Some crew jumped us, kidnapped love-cook, and sent us all flying.”

“Love-cook?”

“…literally flying?”

Zoro just smiled ominously at them.

“I just woke up here an hour ago, maybe?” Zoro shrugged. “Got hungry and these fuzzy little guys told me there’s food in that cave.”

“Oh! The lotus-eaters!” Johnny sighed dreamily. “They’re adorable. They told us to go there, too.”

Zoro looked down at his hands. He was twirling a bud of lotus between his fingers, fidgeting for the first time in his life. He frowned at it.

“You planning on joining up with them again?” Yosaku asked curiously.

“The lotus-eaters?” Zoro asked dumbly.

“Your crew.”

“Obviously.” Zoro said with no hesitation.

There wasn’t much of a plan in the works. Much like his dream, he was just going to keep moving and fighting until he got strong enough and crossed their paths again. Though, he’d most likely actively search for them once he was off this island. He knew they were pretty famous, some sort of news must have made it somewhere, some kind of hint as to where at least one of them was.

At the very least, Sanji was kidnapped, there had to be something about that somewhere.

They didn’t look surprised by his answer—if anything, they looked like they expected it—but something in their expression made Zoro pause. It was subtle, something unspoken being passed between Johnny and Yosaku. Their eyes softened with some sort of quiet understanding and it set Zoro on edge. He wasn’t used to seeing that look from anyone, least of all from them.

His mind raced for an explanation. What the hell were they thinking? It was irrational, but were they doubting him? His resolve to return to the crew? The silence stretched and Yosaku’s kind smile did little to alleviate the gnawing feeling building in his chest.

“What?” He asked, defensive.

“Just never thought we’d see the day where you’d go soft.” Johnny teased, not maliciously.

Zoro stiffened, a frown tugging at his lips. He opened his mouth to retort but Yosaku’s voice cut in, softer, more thoughtful.

“You settled down, slowed down.” Yosaku added with a kind smile.

His instinct was to deny it immediately. He hadn’t slowed down. He couldn’t have. He was still the same swordsman, still driven by the same goal of becoming the greatest. Every moment of his life was spent pushing towards that dream, never letting up for a second.

But their words lingered in the air, catching him off-guard.

Had he slowed down?

Zoro’s gaze flicked between them but there was no mockery in their eyes, only a weird mix of understanding and amusement.

“I haven’t gone soft,” Zoro muttered but there was no edge in his voice.

Johnny and Yosaku exchanged another look and it made him feel like he was missing something crucial. Ares was being suspiciously quiet. Not that Zoro expected him to talk much, he wasn’t much of a talker, a silent guide that performed actions rather than words, but it would have been nice to have some support right now.

“Come on,” Johnny teased lightly, “You have a captain you dedicated your life to and some cook you’re apparently pining over and you have friends.”

Yosaku said, “Yeah, you’ve got a whole crew now, people you care about, a place you finally belong.”

Zoro’s heart thudded in his chest. He wanted to protest but no words came. How was he supposed to explain that, yeah, he had found something, a family, maybe, but that didn’t mean he had gone soft. It wasn’t as sappy as they were both making it out to be.

“No, that’s not…” Zoro struggled to find the words.

How would he even begin to explain? It had only been months, such a small fraction of his life, but everything had changed so subtly that he had barely noticed the shift himself.

Before, he had only thought about his dream. Every person he met, every place he went, it was all just some stepping stone. Every choice, every fight, was just something to push him closer to making Mihawk lose to him.

But he didn’t know where he was going. Not really. He never knew what to do next, where to sleep, what to eat, how to kill time. He was just wandering. Zoro only ever went where his feet took him. He was lost but he didn’t care.

But then, Luffy had found him. Bound in rope in the hellscape of a courtyard. A deal was struck but that idiot never showed Zoro the way. Hell, he was as lost as he was. But, Luffy was like him. He had a goal but no fucking clue how to get there. Everyone else was like that, too. They all had these things they wanted to do, to have—King of the Pirates—The World’s Greatest Swordsman—Draw a Map of the World—A Brave Warrior of the Sea—The All Blue—Cure Any Disease—The True History of the World—The Best Ship Ever—Laboon—but none of them had any idea to achieve it all.

When Zoro joined, he knew that they were all morons. Luffy didn’t even have a crew before him. But, even then, Zoro had faith that Luffy would achieve his dream. And, to do that, Luffy would have a grand journey, an odyssey, and Zoro would be there, honing his skills. A stepping stone.

But, when did everyone stop becoming footnotes in his path to glory? He was never callous or impartial, he still cared, but nothing had ever stacked higher than his dream. Everything had stopped being just a memory to him, Zoro had learned to truly experience life at its fullest.

And he had never once lost sight of what he truly wanted.

Because they never let him forget it.

With them, his life didn’t slow down, it didn’t begin, it didn’t end, they only opened his eyes and reminded him that he existed.

That was all just the truth. He was now fighting harder, pushing further, and for the first time, he had people to fight for rather than to fight in the memory of. They were his responsibility, his purpose. 

And now they were gone.

The weight of their absence settled heavily on his chest, an ache that refused to budge. He should have said something. He should have said anything to them, how they had shifted the course of his life, but that was all just some cruel missed opportunity.

“They’re my purpose.” Zoro said surely, “I’ll get back to them.”

“G̵̡͔̠̹̮̈́́̈́Ȯ̷̺̐́̈́͘Ǫ̷̺̯̰̹̊D̴̡̘̻͓̦̊̄͠.̷͕͚̏͗͗ͅ ̸̡̲̟̖̓̈́͛͊Ỷ̸̜̯͈Ó̵̢̩̈̃̈́Ư̶͈̯̟̖̌̀͊̿ ̵̳̤͉́͆̓̆͑U̷̘̺̪͉̇͗N̴̘̫̽̉͆͝D̸̹̙̣̽E̷͚̤̯̿̒̏̉͒ͅR̶̠̒̉͆͜͠͝Ś̶̢̛̘̳̞͝T̷̬͇̀͝͝A̶̮͑́̌͘͝ͅN̷̦͑͆D̵͈͔̦̤̓.̶̤͚͐ ̷̼͍̰̼̳͒̓̇̏Y̸̫̞̎̽̍̚͜͠Ǫ̸̰̪̈́̿͘U̴͈̤̗̥̗̐ ̴̳͉̻̦̐͜Č̶͉͓A̸̹̥͈̥͕̔̔̾̔N̶̥̝͘ͅN̸̫̫̐̈́̔̀̋O̴͔̳̗̯̔͑̄̽T̴͓͚̈͠ ̴̩͐̿F̶͓͇̞̌̊I̴̟̭̲̪̲͛͌͌̈́G̵̳̝̾̀̈́H̵̛̳̱̤̏́̀̈́T̵̡̳̜̈́̓̑̎ ̷̼̖̾͗W̵̡̡̩̪͒͑I̶͓͛̉T̷͙̣͔͆Ḩ̶̮̬͎̭͗̐͗͠͝Ȯ̸͓́͗̚͠U̴̧̡͈̿́͗T̷͕̙̜̫̔̍̏ ̷̭̈P̷̡̱̲̉̉̇̅̕Û̵͉̭͘R̵̢̥͚̖̐̓̏̋P̷̎͌́͋̿ͅO̵̘̅̋̊̑͌S̷̨̪̜̲̐͗̈́̀͝E̴͎̝͉̹̗͆̀.̸͍͕̚ ̶̧̹̰͈͐̃̋Y̶̪͍̜̬͒̍̒̕͝O̴̞̳̞̹̿̂̀̓͛U̶̝̖͆̉ ̸͍͉͗͗̓͑Ḿ̵̞̟̙̩U̶̧̨͝S̵̞̯̀̑͒T̴̻͈͇̍̑͜ ̴̟̏G̴̯̳̏̀̆̌̕E̸͈͔̽̍T̴̩̗̝̺̲̔͋̚ ̸͖͝B̷̨͙̝̏Ą̸̝͉͖͕̇̊Ć̶̡͇̤̝̓K̷̢̛̗̝̭͝ ̵͕͙̬̞̻͂T̸̩̟̣͇̓̓̇ͅƠ̸̼̘̹̥̤̓̌͘ ̵̬̗̤͛́̋̈́T̸̝͛̓H̵̘̑̈́͑̀̓E̵͈̹̅̆̏̏͑M̵͎͓͚̼̐ ̴̡̛̗̜̝̀̐̓̒Ầ̵̛̮̝̰͍͘̕T̸̨̯̈́̌̆̉ ̸̥̈̉͘A̶̢̝̯̔̅̓Ḽ̷̟͋̇L̷̝̟͍̮̉ ̴̬̩͒͋͑̓͌C̵̬̙̖̩̘̏͝O̵̤̭̔S̷̨̟͚̝̍̂T̸̛̪̗̬͐̑̂͠.̷̧͉̺́̓͝ ̴̧̘̭͚̍T̸̻̖͔̘͗Ḩ̷̥͇̞́̒͗̍̅Ė̷̺̉̈̑͜Ÿ̶̱́̅̏̅ ̷̛̥Ạ̷̡̯̗̉̓͂̕Ŗ̷̳̩̫̗͋Ê̸̪͐̿ ̵̻͔̙́ͅẎ̶̭͓̺͕́͗͝Ȍ̵̡͕̂͠U̵͙̱̖̅̐.̵͉̲̑̈́͌̈́”

Ares was a god of war; he embodied more than just bloodshed, death, and everlasting glory—he represented violence with purpose. War was always for something. Some people waged war for money, fame, land. Others waged war for people.

Once, when Zoro was new to the whole mentoring thing, Ares had him down for a story—one of a warrior long past, a man who had once been very much real: Odysseys. Ares spoke of him, describing how the man had left behind a wife and newborn son, venturing off to war. But the battles on the field were nothing compared to his journey home, a war of its very own, one of endurance that very well nearly broke him. This wasn’t a war where he helped others fight for Helen, it was a battle for the life he had left behind.

Zoro wondered if Ares looked at him and saw a reflection of this ancient tale.

“But what about that blond guy? Didn’t you mention he was kidnapped?” Yosaku asked tentatively.

There was an instinct, to insist that Sanji would be fine. Sanji was strong and resilient in ways that even Zoro had come to admire. The cook had proven time and time again that he could handle himself.

But, that face he had made after talking to that short guy. It hadn’t been his usual feigned nonchalance, bravado, it was drastically different. And, the timing of everything was suspect. Sanji had disappeared immediately after and Zoro refused to believe that the guy lost.

The thought crawled in, unwelcome. What if he left willingly?

“H̷̛̿̌̎̈́ͅÈ̷͉̯̀͜ ̸̡̡̤̮̩̽̈́̈́͂̇Ẃ̶̘̗͖̞̯̈́͊̂̕O̵̠͖̜̐̅͆̓͜U̷̩̜̼̒̇L̷͙͖̙̬͕̅̈̅̈́Ḍ̷̩̹͔̋ ̸̢̱̰͉̭͐͝N̷͔̜̓̈͆͊Ê̶̻̠̻̣̺͒̚V̶̡̘̿̃͝E̴̜̗͛̃̓R̸̹͘̕͠.”

Zoro had been prepared for betrayal before. He had expected it from Nami and Robin but not Sanji of all people. Ares had helped him come up with contingency plans that never came through due to the abruptness of both of their departures. From the very start, Sanji had clung to them with an overbearing affection that was far too genuine to be faked.

But, Sanji, the one that Zoro knew, would never be kidnapped.

But he would never leave, either.

There was the added fact that past being kidnapped, Zoro had no way of knowing what happened to him. While the others were sent randomly flying, presumably with no purpose in mind, then Sanji was taken with purpose. Someone had wanted him.

Whether he was willingly taken or not, at least that left the possibility that he was alive open.

“He’ll make it,” Zoro said finally, forcing the unease aside. “If he’s really a part of our crew, he’ll make it.”

He forced the words out with more certainty than he felt, but Yosaku and Johnny didn’t seem convinced. They exchanged looks that suggested they were thinking things Zoro didn’t want to dwell on either.

But whatever—they didn’t know Sanji like he did. At least, Zoro hoped they didn’t.

Still, he needed to move, to get off this island and figure out what was really going on. “But I’ve gotta make it to another island. Somewhere with people. I need a way to get in contact with everyone.” He glanced around the unfamiliar landscape. “We’re in the Grand Line, right?”

“Yeah,” Yosaku grinned, clearly eager to change the subject. “We weren’t really planning on coming here, but one thing led to another, and we stowed away on a ship. We panicked when they went up a mountain, but hey—now we’re here!”

Zoro snorted. “Yeah, I didn’t see the mountain thing coming either.”

Nami had told him how the Log Pose worked, how it only took you to one island at a time in the Grand Line, locking in on the next destination. Which meant they’d missed a bunch of islands already. He couldn’t even imagine trying to explore them all—it would take a lifetime, and then some. Thankfully, none of their dreams required them to explore the entire world, or he’d be doomed to wander forever without ever meeting Mihawk again.

“But we do have a ship!” Yosaku piped up, his eyes brightening. “You can tag along with us to find land.”

“T̶͍̘̥̭̂ͅÀ̶̠̤͋̂̑͛K̸͓̳̊Ȇ̸̠͉̲̞̀̂ ̴͚̣̎̐̿I̶͕̠̅̀͜͠T̸̹̻̜̎̓́͒͝ ̴̨̪̮͙̗͆̏͑̌̇Ṱ̸̂̽͆͝͠Ä̴͎̮̰͐Ķ̴̪̜͉̩́͛̈̍͘E̴̢͔̟̭̳̓̌͌͌ ̶̨̝̬̦̣̈́́̐̽T̷̨̳̲̻͛́̆̎͜Ḫ̸̆̓̏Ę̵̮͍̱̠̕̚̕ ̸̥͚͒̿͠D̴̨̧̜̪͠Ĕ̵̺̺̭̣̬̑͌A̵̡̟̦̞̞̎̊L̵̦̞̝̍ ̵͉̆͌T̵̙̣̠̖̀̆̚ͅÄ̷͍͔̣́̅K̵̹͙͔̺͇̀̀͊Ĕ̷̺̗̀͂ ̶̛͓̪͙̻̱̾͐Ḭ̸̤̖̉T̷̰̊̄̿̈́̕”

Holy shit, he was annoying as fuck, wasn’t he?

It wouldn’t be like how it once was. He could no longer remember their old dynamic and didn’t know if he cared to try to fit back into it. He vaguely recalled a lot of him bossing them around while they tried to get him to relax. As evident by his own line of thinking, Zoro had changed, and he guessed those two had, as well. Hell, Johnny was a coward yet he still made it to the Grand Line fine.

Besides, his own mentor was badgering him about it.

Things were falling into line and, by the smell of it, the meat was almost done cooking.

“Deal.” Zoro reached out, clasping Yosaku’s hand in a firm shake. But just as their hands met, a booming wail tore through the air, echoing around them like thunder.

Zoro froze, instantly on edge. The sound was deep and mournful, sending a shiver down his spine. He glanced at Johnny and Yosaku, their faces draining of color.

“What the hell was that?” Johnny muttered, eyes wide as he scanned the horizon.

Zoro didn’t know, but his gut told him it wasn’t good.

The echo of that wail faded, dissipating into the air, and the ground beneath them all vibrated with the heavy thumping of footsteps approaching fast. Zoro shifted, getting to his feet and into a defensive stance, his body muscles tensed, coiled like a spring.

Yosaku and Johnny fumbled around for their swords as the thumping grew louder, the sound competing with the rustling of foliage and the snapping of twigs. By the sound of it, some massive creature was tearing through the underbrush and, unfortunately, it was hell-bent on reaching them.

With a final thump, a figure exploded out into their clearing, revealing a towering cyclops. The creature was three of Zoro’s own height, its hulking form swaying slightly from the momentum of its sprint. There was a club attached to a sling, just hovering at his back, a threat in its appearance but not yet wielded. A single bloodshot eye glared down at them, wide and frantic.

It inhaled deeply, its nostrils flaring as it caught the delicious scent of the meat sizzling over the fire. That distress, already so raw, heightened.

“Hey!” Zoro called, raising a hand in the air to get its attention. “What’s the matter with you? You look ready to explode.”

The cyclop’s eye narrowed, filled with a mix of anger and sorrow.

“YOU KILLED MY SHEEP!” It bellowed. “MY FAVOURITE SHEEP.”

“W̷̨̼̾̀͘Ḩ̸̺̫̾͜A̵̲͔̐͆̃T̶̼͊”

What.

Zoro’s eyes skirted towards the meat still sizzling at the fire. It was kind of hard to believe that a sheep could be anyone’s beloved thing but who was he to judge? He carried around Wado like a security blanket, the blade never straying too far from him—unlike now.

He had never thought of it like that, that he loved that sword.

But Ussop had been the one to teach him it was possible to feel that. After all, he was the guy that loved the Going Merry enough to stage a mutiny.

“Ś̴̛̛̥̓̀Ẃ̷̛̹̳̻̣́͋Ǫ̵̨̹͕͈̑̅̍̕R̸̞̪͗̂̐D̴̞̳̘̍́̕S̴̛̥̟̤̦͒͛͘M̶̑̽ͅA̸̡͉͈̖͆̃̃͘N̸̫̗̰̙̩̋̀̎̐̓ ̴̞̌̋Ḽ̶̢̞̮̪͒̄̌́͠Į̴̩̉͌͋͊́S̶̨͔̼̽͊͜͝T̷̡̝̥͉̱͂̎͝͝Ę̷̱͖̣̌̅͐̈́N̶͙̭̅̕ ̸̢̆W̶̻͗̄̾̏H̷̰͚̦̫̰͛̋E̷̪͛̄̚R̵̟̬̩͊̆́É̴̺̤̊Ș̷̨̡̛̘̎́̈͑ ̸̢̖͇̗̹̆̈́Y̷̱̱͑̂Ơ̶͔̈́̑U̶̡͉̞̰͠R̷̝̮̹͑͆̀͐-̵̨̞͖̐̕͘͠-̴̬͇͉̞̱̀-̴̯̏̑̓̈́̏”

“Listen!” Zoro called, his voice firm. “I get that you’re upset, but we didn’t know that sheep was yours! My friends here were just trying to survive, same as you. You don’t have to take this out on us.”

“IT WAS MY FRIEND!” The cyclops cried.

Why couldn’t this guy be like any other opponent he fought? Physically challenging instead of emotionally taxing?

“W̷̄͜H̶͖̜̦̏̚È̶͈̰͕̆Ŕ̷̡̬̯̉͜͠ͅȆ̵̦̗̬̈͆Ş̵̙̮͒ ̴̥̮̳̅̿̊Ý̸̫̻̀̕͝Ọ̷͇͂̈̈́̓͒Ú̵̖̇R̸̲̠͊̐-̶͍͓̔̓͒̆̍-̵̨̞̃̌̐́́-̴̳̜̦͋”

“YOU THINK THAT YOU CAN JUST COME TO MY HOME? MY CAVE? AND STEAL? KILL? I COULD JUST TEACH YOU A LESSON RIGHT HERE AND NOW!”

Teach him a lesson, huh?

The misunderstanding of it all ticked him off, making his blood boil. Was this guy really so upset that he couldn’t just sit down and listen? Hypocritical as it was, was this cyclops so emotional that he was just raring for a fight?

He didn’t have the patience for this. He could feel sores from the fight on the Sunny settling into his skin, his empty stomach still half focused on the meat, and the heavy heat wasn’t helping much.

He reached down to grab a sword only to come across empty air.

They say she slipped and fell down the storehouse steps.

Where the fu—

Storehouse?

Looking for a sharpening stone.

“S̴̭̩̤̼͛̾͂̀͛͜W̷̤̳͌̈́̽̓O̸̪͋̾͊͆͋R̸̜̈́̉̽Ş̴̗̳̞͐̉̈́M̷̗̼̼̰͇͛̓̔̈́A̸͈̐̀̚N̴͖͚̎̆͑ ̴̡͎̽̈́W̷̹̗̦̰̑̑ͅH̶̩̯̐E̴̛̪̗̾͗Ṛ̵̛̖̰͚E̶͉̝̯̲͂̾̃̈ ̶̨̥̩̱̇̌Ȧ̵̜̯̫́͜ͅR̶̤͔̙͉͇͋Ë̷̦̬́̽ ̴̯͔̂̓͊̿Y̸̺̙͉͎̅̋̄͝O̸̹̟̱̪͍͐̃̆Ư̵͙̬͊͂̿Ŗ̶̞̬̦͌̀̂̕̚ ̴̢̯̘̤̅̈̈́S̷̨̨̺̠̹͛͑͆Ŵ̷͓͔̞O̵̘̯̜̼̻͛͑R̴͈͕̝͐̐͑̀͠D̶̳̣͙́̈S̴̭̯̾?̸̞͛̌̉”

Wado was gone.

For her beloved sword.

Wado was fucking gone.

What would she need that for?

He flapped his hands, inching them back a tad, just to make sure he hadn’t somehow, stupidly, moronically, missed the handle. Nothing. Nothing was there. His breaths came out short and shallow as he brought his hands awkwardly to his hips.

“Ḇ̵̙̅̔͆͂R̶̗̩̰̀͒̓E̸̹̬͂A̷̘̞͛̈́̕T̷̨̨̪̫̏͂H̶̞̣̯̙͕͊E̴̯͌”

Zoro had lost the one physical connection he had left to his childhood.

That sword was supposed to be with him for the rest of his life, however short it was going to be. It had been given to him during a funeral and it was going to leave him on his own.

That sword held one meaning only for him, his promise, so why did knowing he lost it not make him think: I failed her.

“Â̸̧̡͔̝̲̈́V̸̧͉̞̣̽Ë̵̡̨̝́̓͘̚N̴̡̞̻̜̈̓͜G̷͉̣̬̉̐E̴͇̽͘͝ ̶̹͚͓͖̲͌̉H̸̤̿̍̅͘ͅĒ̷͇̝̯͂̑͌́R̷̥͈̥͕̜̓̉ ̷̢̬̑͌T̵͎͎̾Ḩ̸̧͖̹̇͐̑͊A̴͈̤̯̺̓̄T̸̬͖̹̈́͒̅͝S̸̜̩̘̥̉̚ ̷̖̑͛W̸͇̩͎̱̙̊̈́̔̇Ḫ̴̨̀̏͋͜Ȧ̶̢̨̞̟̱͊T̷͓̳̂ ̷͙̘̂̈Ý̸̮̙̰͊͂̊ͅŌ̸̧̙̜U̶̡̩̍̍ ̵͚͈̘̻̌͐ͅĎ̷̲̭͝Ơ̷͉͓̗̈ ̴̻̿̈́̄͝͝S̷̛̯͜T̶̪̤́̈́̋̑̀Ǫ̷̥́̋P̵̳̎͒͋͜ ̴͓̏Ṫ̷̹̺͚̝͎̆̑̚H̵̦͓̩̅̐̎Ë̶͚̘̩́̉̉́̔ ̶̨͙͍̦̭̎͋̆̿̚P̶̡̓͗̊̿Ì̶͓̜̤̽T̶̼̩̤̅Ý̷̝ ̷̝̯̓͋͘P̵̺̥̐͗͠A̶̡͔̭̜̼͆̅̈́̓R̴̝̆̈́ͅT̴̝͈̰͂̃Y̸͓̱̟̋͗̎͊͠”

But: how am I ever going to get back to them?

Wado was his crutch, his security blanket, something he gripped in whatever throes of emotions that stole him away. Whether he was anxious, preparing for a fight, moping, or bored, Wado was there. It was his to hold when he would finally fulfill his dream and his to hold as he protected his crew.

He didn’t want to let her, it, go, not even after all these years.

She was right, she always was. He was weak. Pathetically so. She had been torn from him in an accident of all things and accidents seemed to follow in his wake. He had let his crew be torn apart right in front of him, watched him get kidnapped, powerless to stop it. And now, to top it all off, he had lost the one thing that connected him to her—their promise, her memory.

Her sword had sunk to the bottom of the ocean, swallowed by the depths like it had never existed. Just like her. And now all he had left were his memories: days of running around in fields, hoping to catch up to her quick feet, days of losing to her unrelenting hand, hours of sitting at lessons they were both far too skilled to be sitting at. And he would have to hold those memories close since they were not apparently the last thing he had from her.

“S̵̯̹̞͛N̷̡̛̄͝A̶̲̭̓ͅP̶̢̈̉ ̸̡̬̅Ơ̸̬̝̺̈̐Ǘ̴̜̞̥T̵͙̈́͘ ̵͔͑͆Ơ̸̹̽̄F̴̡͖̏̚ ̴̜̞̻́͠Ĭ̴̜͇̔̽͜T̸̜̎ ̷̺̲̔̾͠Ỳ̷̞̿̈́Ỏ̶̫͔͒͜U̷̹͐̂R̷͓̜̂̂̕ ̷̰͚̎̎̑F̷̞̳̂R̵̺̦̘̄̾͠I̷̲̓͛̃É̶̤͘N̴̢͉̯̿͒D̸̹͙͎̏S̸̰͊̒ ̷̛͉̯Á̶̬͒̐R̸͔͇̐E̵͚̬̋͆̒ ̶̼̝́T̴̞͎͆͠Ḧ̶̤̫̜̈́Ḙ̷̢͋Ỳ̸̺̹Ŗ̸́̇E̵̯̎ ̷̯̱̓̓T̴͔͆H̵̳́̌Ḛ̵̝͉̎͋Y̷̫̭͆́R̷͙̘̈́E̷̪͒ ̸̖̹̀́Â̴̛͎̞̚͜L̴̢͙̞͒S̸̨̞͇̀̏͑O̶̗̅ ̸͎̻̼͂Ṕ̴̘̪͘Ǎ̵̞̦̻R̴̗̹͖̅̍T̸̡̆͌̌ ̵̣͉̔̀̎O̶̠͆͘͝F̶͈͉̓ ̴͓̓̄̀Y̵̛̩̞̘̍̚Ò̷̧͕Ǔ̸͚̝̌̉ͅR̸̦̾ ̸̧́͘͝C̸̳̞͑̄Ḩ̴͔̏̉̋I̸̤̦͝Ĺ̸̮̖̅͊ͅD̵͉͋͑͛ͅH̴̥̪͘͜O̷̰̾̾͛O̸̙͗̈́̐D̷̫͓̳̿ ̷̢́̽͘D̶̙̳̀O̶̤̣̔̀N̶̻̦͋T̷͇̟͈̊͋ ̶͉̏̏D̴̳̻͔͗I̶̘̜̍̀̏S̸̘̿Ģ̴͎͇̐̈́Ŗ̶̳̪̂A̵̪̺̍͗͝Ç̷̩͛̓̓E̴̺͚͖̒̈́ ̶͙͈̎̈́Ṫ̷̘̭̺͝H̶͉̪̒́̋Ȅ̵͇̘M̸̲̥͝”

He was right, of course he was right. Looking at Johnny and Yosaku quivering in fear, they might as well be his last attachments to his life before the Straw Hats.

“Hey,” Zoro ground through his teeth, “You’ve got it all wrong! But, if you’re looking for a fight, I’ll be glad to knock your teeth in. But, why don’t you just fucking listen to us?”

how am I going to make it home?

“Ẉ̸̞̃Ĥ̶̛̩͜͠E̶̹͌̕R̸̺̥͎̎̏̓Ē̶̼ ̵͔̪͖̎̉̚Ȉ̴̺̎̈S̵̢̜̟̔̾͠ ̵̠̤͝Y̷͔̭̾́ͅO̷̢̫̲͊̓̈́Ȕ̸̝̖R̶͓̰̓̏ ̴̛̞̻͌Ẃ̵͉̐̅Ì̴̯̏L̴̼̐̎Ḻ̴̆ ̷͙̠̞͛T̶̝͇̹̏̏Ǫ̷̝̽ ̶̯͙̎̈́Š̵̞̬Ū̶̼̯̯͝R̶̜͐͝V̸̻̠̞͑̀͗I̷̟͆̆̓͜͜V̷̯̋̍E̷̝̎̄?̴̫̈́̾”

For one terrible moment, Zoro eyed the swords that Johnny and Yosaku had.

It would be so easy to take them and get the job done. If they were anything like how they used to be, they’d let him do it. Let him take their only line of defense and hide away while he gets the job done.

But, he wasn’t the same person he was back then.

Zoro trusted his skills enough to know they would come to no harm should he take their weapons but, after having lived with friends for months, he now understood what it was like to worry. He knew what it was like now to watch people fully capable of their job and head off into danger. He had lived it almost every day back with the crew.

He rarely ever had to resolve a problem without a fight. It wasn’t unheard of but it was so scarce that it left him floundering every time but his own thoughts—what if it's at the bottom of the ocean?—weren’t really helping the matter.

Zoro took a cautious step towards their supplies, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to think fast. He scanned the items, his mind on hyperdrive, and finally latched onto a bottle. Huge by human standards but small in comparison to the cyclops but it was all he had at his disposal.

”Here’s some booze.” Zoro lifted the bottle up to the light. “Wine. If you drink a bunch of it, it’ll make all those feelings in your chest fly away.”

What he would give to have something strong right now.

Zoro, since he had been given Wado, only had a few simple goals in mind. One of them was to never return back to his village, her burial site, unless he had fulfilled their joint dream. He would have tended to the sword one last final time, savoring his last moments with it, before stabbing it at the dirt of her grave, reuniting the two.

He couldn’t even do that now.

“WINE?”

“You can’t appreciate anything more complex than sake, it doesn’t mean I’m trying too hard, Marimo. I didn’t realize doing something decent for you would be such a waste of my time.”

“Win? Against me? You’re out of your damn mind.”

how was he going to get back to him

“B̶͕̜̐ͅY̶̛͉̿̾͜ ̶̞͇̲͗͋G̷͈͛Ơ̷̧͎̫̎͐Í̶̤̰̦̐͠N̵͖̆ͅĠ̵̯̞͈́ ̶̻̓̀̾T̷͉̏͠H̸̞̆́R̵͖̺̬̂̔͂Ō̸͕̗̖Ṳ̶͖̆̈̑ͅG̸̬̝̗͛H̵̠͉̖̉̅ ̸͕̤̗͊́H̷͉̃͒E̴͚̔̉̉Ĺ̸͖L̴̻͖͓͆ ̶͚̌Ả̵̧̔N̷̡̡̂̃̇D̷̻͇̺͂ ̷̿͜͝B̷̢͔̘̔̈́Á̸̧͍̀C̷̨͒̅̀͜Ķ̵̻͊̉̑ ̶̹̥͗͝D̶̬̭̮̂̽̆O̶̜̭͐N̴̜͈͔̒͑̈́T̶͔͎͚̋̑ ̶͇̣̍͋̿Y̶͎͇̅̈́O̸͈̻͐͜͠Ṷ̵͙̳̏̏̀ ̷͔̈͑D̴̟͉̋̈́͋A̷͎͚̓̏R̴̜͖̳̊Ė̶͉̦͍ ̷̱̟̱͐̌͘G̸͈̦̒̉I̴͎̝͙͑V̶͉̦̾̏Ë̶̠̥̘́̀ ̸̛͚͉̒̂Ṷ̴̜̈́P̵̺̞͒̆͘ ̸̰̌̈́Y̶̲̕Ó̴̡̳ͅU̵̙̤̤̾͋ ̶̯͊Ṃ̷̢̑͒͝A̵͇̠̿D̵͍̬̘̈́Ḙ̶̩̜̆́ ̸̙̱̫͑̓Ǎ̴̫̞̆͂ ̴̭̈P̴͓͈̪͋Ȑ̵̺̳̒O̷̘̿͘M̶̮̏Ǐ̸̢̝̰S̶̡̈̐E̴͔̯̔ ̴͕̑T̶̑ͅO̷̢̬̯͐̈́̔ ̶̞͈̖̋̓̇Ñ̶̘͝É̶̻̪̊V̶̥͕́͝ͅË̷͙͓̅R̷̯̍͝ ̸̬̀L̸̹͎̀O̴̻̭͋S̵̬̝̍́Ê̷͈̎͠ ̷̠̈́A̴̺͒̉ ̷͉̝͝F̶̜͖̓̉̽I̶͈͑G̵͔͖̞̈́͐Ḥ̷͐̈́͘T̷͖̪̓̑͗”

“Yeah, nothing fancy but it’s all we have. Something to make up for your loss.”

The cyclops looked consideringly at the bottle in his hands.

“We’d be even.” Zoro hoped he was striking true.

After a moment of deliberation, the cyclops bent down, its massive form casting a shadow over Zoro. Zoro popped the cork off and wiped the rim in one smooth motion. With cautious precision, Zoro placed the bottle in the creature's large palm. The cyclops brought it to its mouth and, in one swift motion, drank it all down. The bottle vanished as if it had never existed, and the cyclops sighed contentedly, a deep rumble that reverberated through the air.

“THAT WAS GOOD.” The cyclops said dreamily. “STRANGER, WHAT’S YOUR NAME?”

“None of your business!” Yosaku yelled before Zoro could reply.

Johnny hissed at him, “Why would you give him your name? Haven’t you learned anything about anonymity?”

Actually.

He had.

But he got a bounty pretty quick and being anonymous just didn’t occur to him as much anymore.

”That’s right, I’m nobody.” Zoro shrugged.

For some reason, Ares cackled.

”NOBODY?” The cyclops nodded, satisfied. “WELL, THANKS, I DO FEEL FLIGHTY. SO, FOR THAT, YOU CAN BE THE FINAL ONE TO DIE.”

The cackling got louder.

”Fuck.”

The cold and unforgiving hand of fear gripped his heart for the first time in a long time. Staring up at a single, grief-filled eye of a towering beast, Zoro stood empty-handed.

“Ÿ̸̜̪́O̶̧͉͋͗̚ͅŨ̵̠ ̸̭̊D̵͉͍̅̊O̵̫͚̿Ǹ̷̲T̶̹̊̀́ ̶̧͝N̸̝̋E̷̙̝͑Ě̸͉̈́͝Ḑ̷̔ ̶̠͍̗́Ȃ̸̟͗͜ ̴̣̝͂Ŵ̶̤Ḛ̶̼͕̑A̵͕͂̊P̸͍̘̎̽̚O̴̝͊̄N̶͕͊̌̈́ ̴̧̜͋̆͠T̴̘̉O̵̧̬̤̔̆͗ ̸̡̼͋͒F̵͙̪͉͘͝͝Ǐ̶̳̽Ǵ̷͎͠H̴̤̓͛̈T̴̫̦͆ ̸̡̍̌M̴͚̺̈́͒Ò̷̤Ȓ̶̮̚Ō̷̱̥̥̅͂N̶͔̂.”

The cyclops roared and stomped forwards, crushing rocks and trees alike. Zoro barely managed to jump out of the way, horror-stricken as debris flew in all sorts of directions. The cyclops pivoted, its massive body using its momentum to keep the turn going with no speed whatsoever, and there was another stomp. This one faster, aimed once again at Zoro rather than two literal other people with them, and he rolled.

As the cyclop’s foot came crashing down, Zoro dove between its legs to avoid the blow. He emerged from the other side, his mind working on doing something other than dodging. A groaning noise came from his right and he saw Johnny and Yosaku struggling to their feet. He didn’t know if they had dodged either heavy stomp or if they had simply tried to brace themself through it but they didn’t look very good, either of them.

They rushed forward, frantic, a sword in each of their hands, and their eyes filled with desperation.

“Hey, idiots!” Zoro called out, worried. “Stay back—”

They ignored him, a testament to all they have changed. He supposed they didn’t need him anymore doing all the work, but it didn’t stop him from being so surprised that they were heading in without even a semblance of a plan. Not like Zoro didn’t do that, but still.

“Yosaku!” Johnny shouted, his voice strained. He suddenly bent low, planting his feet securely on the ground. “You ready?”

Without hesitation, Yosaku sprinted towards Johnny, who was bent low with his hands clasped together, a makeshift platform where Yosaku stepped on. With a grunt, Johnny heaved upwards, launching Yosaku into the air with surprising force.

Armée de L'Air Power Shoot!

“Ŷ̴̨̯͔Ǫ̶̜̜̔̑U̸͉̲͋ ̴̧̹̤̅Á̴͔̟̠Ļ̶̈̎W̶̨̠̺̑A̸͍̯̺̾̉Ỳ̷̧̘̦̏Ṡ̶̮ ̵͇̍D̶̰̦̓̔I̵͇̬̲̅̎D̶̢͇̈̌̉ ̵̙̌́L̴͔̾̓͜I̷̜̾̆͛K̵̬͈̑E̴̛̬̮̐̅ ̵͉̳̟̀͌T̸̙̬̍̈H̶͕̪̺͗͐͠Ä̸͓̠͓́̚T̵̩͒ ̴͍̲̃M̷̞̣͎͐Ô̷͔͐͝V̴̪̆ͅE̴̳̜͉͑̾̒”

Yosaku soared upward, his sword gleaning in the sunlight; his body twisted midair, almost as if he might miss his blow. The cyclops, too focused on Zoro to notice the human being flying in the sky, geared up for another crushing stomp.

With a loud yell, Yosaku swung his sword down with everything he had, the blade connected with the cyclops’ arm, sinking into its leather flesh. It let out a deafening roar, flailing blindly. Yosaku was in a free fall, having reached his peak during the swing, and as the cyclops flustered about, its massive forearm crashed into him midair, sending him flying like a rag doll.

“Yosaku!” Johnny screamed, his eyes wide in horror as he watched his friend sail through the air.

Time seemed to slow. Zoro could hear Johnny’s scream but it felt distant, drowned out by the pounding of his own heartbeat. That cold knot of fear, the one that had tied a neat little bow in his ribcage at the start of the fight, tightened.

Yosaku tumbled through the sky, his sword falling out from his grip and landing somewhere randomly. They no longer saw him when he finally landed, only the sound of a sickening thud somewhere far off was their indicator that he had fallen on the ground.

Johnny and Yosaku had been the first friends he had made since he was a child. The first people who had looked at him and didn’t think he was a monster with a thirst for blood but an unfunctional teenager that was more or less feral. They had found him alone, not willing to admit it, and had let him tag along, like they were just going to now, on their journey, even with his acquired taste of a personality.

That was one of his first friends and he was gone with just a swing of a monster’s arm.

Gone with a horrifying crack into the ground.

“F̶̭͇̪͒O̴̠̩̫͠C̷͙̏̚U̴͎̿̈́̔S̸̙̓!”

The cyclops howled, moving his hands behind his back and taking out the club that was attached to him. Zoro, rarely one to falter in a fight, froze, his hands trembling ever so slightly. But, through the sound of the roaring beast, he could hear sniffling coming from Johnny.

“Run!” Zoro yelled, snapping back into reality.

Locked in a moment of stillness, Zoro stood there, watching Johnny. Time crawled, slowly, as if it were on its dying breath and was trying to make it’s last leg home. Johnny’s lips moved, forming the shape of Yosaku’s name. Tears streaked down Johnny’s cheeks, glistening in the sunlight, his eyes wide with terror and disbelief.

why arent you crying like that?

For an instant, it looked as through Johnny might stay there, paralyzed by grief and surprise. The hesitation was evident everywhere on his face, the struggle between saving his own life or looking a little longer in the direction he had seen his friend land.

The cyclops, unrelenting, raised its massive club, the shadow of the weapon looming over Johnny.

And then, Johnny moved.

He sprang to life, leaping out of the way as the club came crashing down. Zoro clenched his jaw, he couldn’t afford to feel this helpless. So what if he had no weapon? He couldn’t keep dwelling on the fact that he had nothing, he would gain it all back if he just worked for it. And that meant working for it now.

If not for the sake of reuniting with his crew, then for Johnny, who had lost his best friend and was the only reminder Johnny had of his early adulthood left.

Johnny scrambled to his feet, landing near Zoro, and he gasped for air as the tears streamed freely from his eyes. “He’s gone..” His voice cracked.

The cyclops was not unlike a force of nature, each swing of its massive club tearing through the air with a deafening roar. Zoro darted through the chaos, evading each attack with ease, but his focus was split. Johnny wasn’t moving with the same clarity—his steps were unsteady and his body weighed down by an invisible force. Through the noise of debris flying and falling, Zoro could hear the jagged rhythm of his sobs and the strangled gasps of air as he moved with sloppy coordination.

push it down push it down push it down push it down push it down

He couldn’t let the pain, Johnny’s pain, his pain, get to him. He had to keep moving, fighting. That was his purpose as First Mate, to hold things together, maintain a balance. When everyone else struggled, he was there, when his Captain faltered, he was there. He would be there for Johnny, so he couldn’t afford to get trapped in his own thinking.

The next swing from the cyclops was faster than before. Johnny, barely, made it out with a stumble of his feet. The club slammed into the earth with a bone-rattling crash, the impact creating a shockwave that nearly knocked Zoro off balance. Johnny hit the ground awkwardly on the uneven terrain but he managed to push himself onto his hands and knees. His sobs, no longer strained, came freely now, his whole body shaking or maybe that was just the ground shaking.

"Johnny, focus!" Zoro barked, his voice sharp and commanding, trying to snap him back to the present. "Pull it together!"

The terror was so evident in his shining eyes—was this the first time he was ever alone?—and he gasped for air, shallow bursts of breath coming in and out. Zoro almost had to repeat himself, thinking Johnny hadn’t heard him, but then, slowly, he nodded. The moment was jerky, as if his own body was out of sync. His legs wobbled as he attempted to stand, tears not fully vanquished, but at least there was a presence in him now.

The cyclops let out a bellowing roar, its club smashing trees as it swung blindly. Zoro, always calculating in the chaos, looked for an opening, but the beast's erratic swings made it impossible to get close. Johnny stumbled beside him, nearly missing another crushing blow that sent him flying back into the dirt.

Zoro’s mind searched for any advantage they could exploit. They cyclops was filled with a blind rage, a grief that was now shared by Johnny, the attacks heavy with strength but lacking any control. The monster was huge, yes, but he was—

“Johnny!” Zoro yelled, urgent. “The heels!” Go for his heels!”

Johnny nodded shakily, wiping his face with the back of his arm, his breath still uneven. "His heels…" he repeated, the words sticking in his throat. He gripped his sword tighter, the tremors in his hands still present, but determination started to seep through his grief.

"Just focus on that!" Zoro barked before darting off to the left, trying to circle around the cyclops and divert its attention. The monster bellowed, its one eye locking on Zoro as it swung its club down in a wide arc. Zoro dodged, leaping out of the way at the last second, the ground erupting where the club smashed.

Johnny, finally steeling himself, moved as Zoro distracted the beast. He darted to the side, eyes fixed on the cyclops’ massive, leathery feet. He could hear the rush of wind as the club swung overhead, but he kept moving, focusing on getting in close.

Zoro continued dodging, each move deliberate, keeping the cyclops’ gaze away from Johnny. "Come on, you big idiot! Focus on me!" he shouted, narrowly avoiding another crushing blow.

He could spy Johnny, weaving in and out between the creature’s legs, trying to find an opening with his sword raised high. There, when he found it, he brought the blade down, the sword slicing through flesh but not as deep as they had both sought after. It was, though, enough to make the cyclops cry out in pain.

"Good! Do the other one!" Zoro shouted, still keeping the beast occupied, hoping Johnny would have the strength to finish the job.

This was good. It was much too early to be celebrating, the tide of a battle may change at any chance, but this change was finally, fucking finally, in their favour and he couldn’t help the sharp relief that overtook him.

Everything’s fine. They just have to kill this motherfucker, it’s just one life to take, and then they’re free to go home

Johnny’s blade looked to be stuck within the cyclop’s heel, the steel glinting grotesquely against the mottled skin. Thick, dark blood oozed from the would, thick and viscous, pooling around the base of the weapon and streaming down to the grass. Johnny had a white-knuckled grip on the hilt, his body straining with the effort of trying to retrieve it, blood spattered across his cheekbones.

The wound wasn’t deep enough to bring the creature down, but it was enough to slow him. The cyclops staggered, his massive leg lifting off the ground, struggling to keep his balance. The creature’s one eye narrowed in fury, flickering with a mix of rage and confusion, as it attempted to regain its footing. Funny enough, Johnny was lifted along with the sword from how tightly he was holding onto the hilt.

The way it was moving…it may have been due to the pain, yes, but the movements were sluggish, a reaction that was far too early in the fight for something of his size. No, it had to be something else…it had to be the…

“Y̴̛̦̦̒́O̸̪̜̜̔U̴̫̎͗͝ ̶̲̉S̵͓̩͛Ņ̸̣͂̕̚É̶̝̩̐A̸̺͐K̴̗͕̇̓́Ỹ̸̧͔ ̵̪̥̎ͅŠ̸̛̭O̴͓͛Ṉ̸̳̦̓͠ ̵͙̽̒Ò̴̘̓͜͝F̴̨̳͇̀̈́̉ ̷͕̜̘̒A̷̟̫͈̅ ̶̫͇̌̓͗B̷͉͔͍̄̊͠I̵͍̾̄͠Ṯ̴̏C̵̪͑H̸̻̉̃͝”

Zoro smirked. That damned freak didn’t even notice him slipping in those lotus petals, the ones he had been fiddling with, into the wine, even with that big freaking eye it had.

Zoro seized the opportunity, sprinting forward with lightning speed. The cyclops, distracted by the pain in its foot, didn't even notice Zoro darting between its legs in an attempt to dodge. The cyclops finally let his foot fall to the ground, along with Johnny, who pulled his sword free using the momentum of falling to the ground. Blood sprayed across the dirt as it dislodged but the cyclops grit through it, raising his club.

With a battle cry, Johnny slashed at the other heel, his sword biting into the tough skin once again. The blade sank in with a squelch, lost among another cry of pain. It stumbled on two injured legs, swaying dangerously. Its eye widened in disbelief and Zoro watched triumphantly, adrenaline surging through his blood.

The beast was finally vulnerable, teetering on the edge of collapse. This was their moment, Johnny’s moment. Johnny yanked his sword free with a grunt of strain, blood gushing out and landing on his clothes but he took no mind to it.

"That's it!" Zoro barked, coming around the other side. "Now finish him off!"

Johnny lunged forward, aiming once again for the legs. Okay. Sure. Maybe if they got him to fall, they could tie him up and leave. Johnny struck, slicing through the skin again and again, each bow bringing the cyclops closer to its collapse. Zoro wasn’t fooled, Johnny was crying as he swung his blade. The weight of their friend’s fate was what drove him forward, not any will to survive.

Just as Johnny was about to strike again, the cyclops roared and swung its club in a wild arc. Zoro jumped back, narrowly avoiding the blow, but Johnny wasn’t fast enough. The club connected with his side, sending him crashing to the ground with a cry of pain.

"Johnny!"

He darted past the cyclops, feeling the heat radiating from its massive body, and as he turned, he locked onto the sight of Yosaku’s fallen sword. Without hesitation,  Zoro sprinted towards it and grasped the hilt, the weight heavy in his hand. It wasn’t the same sword that Yosaku had when they had first met, nor the second time, but it was his and maybe the last thing he’d ever have from him.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, remembering Yosaku's spirit, his laughter, and the bond they had shared. He refused to let that be extinguished in vain. Zoro turned back, the cyclops roaring as it regained its footing, still furious and still wielding its club. Zoro's jaw tightened. He wouldn’t die here. Not now. Not after everything they had fought for.

With a fierce resolve, Zoro charged forward, the sword raised high. The cyclops, still disoriented from its injuries, took a wild swing at him, but Zoro was faster. He ducked beneath the club, rolling onto the ground and leaping back to his feet.

In a blur of motion, Zoro rushed forward, darting between the cyclops’ legs. The beast was too large, too slow, to react, swinging its club in any old direction. Zoro felt the wind rush by as he sprinted closer, focusing on its eye.

He took a deep breath, grounding himself, and jumped up into the air, thrusting the sword forward. The blade pierced the eye with a squish, a pain, wretched roar erupting from the creature. He hung limp in the air, the only thing holding him aloft being the sword; Zoro twisted the sword, deeper, deeper, feeling the creature stagger back with blood pouring from its fresh wound. It clutched his face, desperately trying to stop the flow, stop the pain.

It was a horrific sight but Zoro felt little to no remorse; this was repentance. The cyclops fell to its knees, howling in anguish. This was it. He hadn’t died here.

youll remember this

“F̴͙̱̹̎̿I̴̡̗̎̚ͅN̷̯̋͠Í̶̛̲͋S̶̫͑H̶̙͐ ̵̢̬̯̈́͑H̷̛͙̼͕̀͌I̴̤͋̎̕ͅM̵̞̹̍̐ ̶̨͆͋O̵̞͎͍̐F̵͓̥̦̿͌F̵̛̭̞́͘”

Zoro yanked the sword free from the cyclops’ eye, the sickening slick sound of flesh parting from metal sharp to his ears. He wiped the blood and fluids from the blade on his trousers, indifferent to the crimson smears now staining the fabric.

The blade, new, felt unfamiliar, heavier than he was used to. It was nothing like the fine katanas he had mastered, altered to have serrated edges, shaped and detailed like waves from the ocean, but it was all he had now. It would have to do. He shoved it through a loop in his belt, its weight hanging awkwardly at his side, unbalanced compared to his usual trio.

The cyclops’ wails turned guttural, primal, something that reverberated through the dense forrest, rattling the leaves and branches alike. The ground seemed to pulse, thu-thump thu-thump, with the creature’s despair. Blood streamed from the slashed eyeball, spattering every few seconds like a faulty fountain.

As if summoned by the creature’s pain cries, two more hulking cyclops emerged from the shadows of the forest, their massive forms pushing through the thick trees. The ground trembled beneath their heavy footsteps, their bodies creating a wall, blocking out any natural sunlight and casting long, dark shadows on the floor.

Zoro ducked behind a fallen tree, something that must have broken off the ground during the fight, and pressed his back against the rough bark as he peered around the edge. He stilled himself, hoping that none of them would near Johnny’s fallen body, most likely alive, or Yosaku’s, definitely not alive.

He assessed the newcomers. They were each just as colossal as the first, their single unblinking eyes scanning the clearing with an unnerving intensity. They moved cautiously, massive heads moving side to side as they searched the source of their kin’s distress.

Zoro understood that they were on high alert, that any movement from his end would mean a brutal fight against both of them. His hand hovered over the new katana he had acquired and waited. They hadn’t seen him yet and he didn’t want them to, he just wanted to get away from this dumb island and never see it again for the rest of his life.

“WHAT HAPPENED?” One of them demanded.

The wounded cyclops wheezed, its mangled eye trickling blood down his chin. It opened its mouth to speak and failed, once, then twice. He let out a frustrated grunt and cleared its throat.

The injured cyclops gasped out, “IT WAS NOBODY.”

What.

What.

What.

The other cyclops let out huffs of disbelief. One stomped a foot and the other crossed its arm, unimpressed. They both loomed over their brother, looking like tired parents of a rowdy kid.

“NOBODY?” One spat out, the word dripping with impatience. It let out a loud groan, as if the universe was causing it to suffer a migraine. “YOU’RE BLEEDING FROM NOTHING?”

The injured cyclops let out a wheeze, not refuting what it had said. The blood from its ankles had slowed to a slight trickle, sluggish in its speed. The sight made Zoro proud of Johnny for having done that.

“IF NOBODY HURT YOU, BE SILENT.” The other cyclops snarled.

The two hulking creatures exchanged a glance, and without another word, they turned and hunkered away, their massive forms disappearing from whence they came. The ground shook in their wake, their attention no longer on their fallen kin.

Left behind in a growing silence, the injured cyclops tried to push itself up with trembling arms, but its strength was nearly gone. It let out short gasps, the sounds sharp and scared, hiccuping in fear.

“DON’T GO!” It cried out in a desperate voice, the syllables breaking in pain and fear.

There was no response as the footsteps got quieter and quieter.

Zoro lowered himself onto his hands and knees, moving with the stealth of a predator. The dirt beneath him was soft and damp, mufflig his movements as he crawled. Just a few feet ahead, Johnny lay on his side, his breathing shallow but steady.

Zoro reached Johnny, checking for any signs of serious injury. Aside from the exhaustion and a deep bruise forming where he had landed, he looked intact with a pulse. He crouched beside his body, poised to pick him up and whisk him away. But, he looked over to where the meat had fallen into the fire. It would be overcooked but it was all the food they had.

With a quick decision, Zoro grabbed the charred meat, grimaxing, and secured it to Johnny’s chest. Then, with a swift motion, Zoro lifted Johnny over his shoulder and snuck away, not without glancing around to check the coast was clear.

“W̵̮̤̓̑̕ͅA̴̻̰͂͘I̴͕͉̳͐T̴͕̹͆ ̶̫̓̌W̷͙̞̟͗H̵͇̲̑Ḁ̴̩̍̕T̸̙͖̠͒̿ ̴̧̩̞́͌͝Â̴̘͍͐R̷̦̙̦̋̽̚Ẻ̴̱͘ ̷͖͕̃́̃Y̷͇̐O̵͇̓U̶̖̥̭̅͝ ̴̥̊ͅD̴͕̲̐Ò̵͈͔Í̸̧̡̞̈͠N̸̰͙̹̈́̍̄G̷̠̯̒ ̵̤̓̀͐H̵̹̙̆Ë̷̖͉S̴̬̯̟̓͝ ̶͙̠̅̑V̴͇̟̟̇̃̐U̴̡͍̮̓͐L̶͖͑͊Ň̵͎̗È̴̤Ŕ̷͉́A̸̙̰̠͐͂B̷͎̔̄͜L̵͉͠Ȅ̸̛͖͇̱͆ ̷̡̰̀I̸̮͋̈́̿T̴̯͇̏͝͠Ş̵̥̽̅ ̴̝͔̗͐͘Y̴̳̙͗Ǫ̶͖̞̓͛U̴̜͍̝̾Ř̵̨͍̩ ̴̠̠͘C̶̡̞̼̀Ḣ̸̩͎͋Ḁ̶̺̟̌͋N̷̞̥̕̚C̵̯͌Ě̶͙̪̒̎ ̷̛̺̑Ǩ̵̮̘̦I̵̡͈̬͒Ĺ̴̰͖̄L̴̻̔ ̷̲̈́H̵͕͋Ǐ̶̗͘M̴̤̟̀͜ ̸͔̍̕Ṉ̸̌̎͒O̶̡̰͇̔Ẁ̸̧̩̊ͅ.”

***

Obi gasped, distraught, “You’ve been using past tense all this time with Ares!”

The others froze, their expressions shifting from confusion to surprise, eyes widening as they processed the truth and weight of Obi’s words.

Zoro, for his part, barely reacted. His shoulder stayed relaxed, casual, deliberately casual. He wasn’t about to let them know the true extent of how this all mattered to him. Instead, he summoned a smug look to his face, like a storyteller proud his readers noticed a key detail.

“I’m surprised you noticed.”

In truth, he hadn’t even realized the significance of his own phrasing until Obi pointed it out. The revelation felt like a cold splash of water, awakening something deep within him that he had buried under layers of defiance and bravado. Zoro shifted slightly, the tension in the room wrapping around him, and he fought the urge to acknowledge the truth of his unintentional admission. He could feel their eyes on him, searching for answers, but he refused to give them the satisfaction of knowing how vulnerable he felt. It was easier to play the part of the confident swordsman, the one who faced every challenge head-on without a hint of doubt.

***

“And why would I do that?” Zoro asked, feeling fed up. “I’ve won. I just want to leave now. I’m so fucking hungry.”

Ares’ voice was bone-chilling, a distorting voice like metal screeching against each other.

“W̴̨̛̛̳͖̲̻͚̝͚͎̮̓͐̚Ḧ̵̨̫͎͓̣̙̼́͊̽̔͘͝E̶͈̘͙̙̠͔̭͆͆̌͂̒͜R̶̭̖͔͎̤͋̏̅̋͗̌͋̈͝ͅE̴̡̼̚’̴̮͈͍͒̈́̇̋̓̄̓́̕S̴͈̏̏͑ ̵̧̧̢̙͍͗͛̅͘͠Y̶̪͖̫͆́̑̉̏͛̕Ó̴̦̼̓͊̊̈́͠͠U̸̥͎͂̄̍̅̌̇͝R̷̦̓̏ ̶̡͈́͌̀Ḣ̸̢̗̹͈͈̝͜O̷̡̝̺͍̤͌̄̋̑̑̀͌̅Ņ̷̩̞̰̮̯̊̂͛́͌̾͋̄̀͝Ȏ̸̥̝̰̲̙̠̓͗̏̔͒̎̍͋U̶̢̗̹̳̥̮͔̙͋̈́͒̌͆̆́͊Ŗ̶̣̱̪̗̝̹͓̇̾?̸̓́? YO̸̡̙͗́U̵̻̼̭͊̀͒́̈́ ̷̧̲̳͓̣̬͎͓̻̜̅̀̓͝N̶̢͖͕͉̉͌̑E̶̛̛̤͕̙̭͙̫̺͔̙͔̅̄̍̚͠͝Ë̶̠́̇̃̆͑͜ͅḐ̴̲͎̟̱̺̆̅͜ ̴̢͈̕T̴̻̮͇̯̊͋̀̏ͅȎ̵̠͍͌̉̀̏ ̶̧͖͖̺̹̭̯̫͕̫̏͑̎̽A̸̯̎̀Ṽ̵͚̌̓̾̂̈́̏͋͜È̴̛̯̖͎̤̍̇̌̚ͅͅͅṊ̸̢̡̢̥̲̟̼͈̅̇́̓̑͜G̷͇͔͉̹͇͈͈̒̀ͅȄ̷̜͉͎̪͓̘̥͆̆́̊̓̑̉͐͜ ̸͎̝͉͍͆̇͑͛̓͋̋̈́Y̵̧͙͈̪̱̩̞͑̏͊͒̋͆Ô̶̳̝̼͖̲̩̠͓̐̈́̒͝U̵̻̱̲̱͙̓̒͂̎̚R̷̛̥̣͔̥̊̈́̎͒̽ ̵̢̨͍̥̟̮̝͇͉̄̉͊̃͌F̶̜̞̲̠̟̦͆͂Ŗ̵̜͕̥̍̓̑̇́̏̏͘͝I̶̧̛̱̬̟̺̩͓̓͑̎͊̈̏̽̈́͝E̷̟͂͒̈̇͋̀̔N̶͖͓̳̙̭̠͛̽̈́́̚͝Ḋ̶͖̫̺̪̻̍̇̾̈.̵͎̳̻̫͕̇ ̵̛̳͓̳͉̈́͗͆͒̇͋̂̚H̸͇̫͋͊̑́̈́̋̐͝͠Ȩ̶̨̛̛̞̙̫̪̰̪̙̦͐̌̑͌’̵̡̨̭̘̪̦̪̫̪̀̿ͅS̵̢͈̣̮͓̩͆̀̓̈̇͑͘̚͝ ̷̞̫̩̙̣̪̝̺̇̓͑̂̿́́͘͝D̵̛̥͊̔̒͊́E̴͎̻̭͍̝̳̗̥̎ͅÀ̶̛̱̞̪͓̳͚͛̓͆̉̐͑̏͑D̴͖͎͈͎͉̳̠̱͂̉̂̇́͐̋̏͝ ̶̢͕̖̝̻̜̫̥͘B̶͍̫͗̉̎̽͒E̷͕̐̇̇͘̕̚͝C̶̨̠̱̋͜͝Ȃ̸̧̢̗̾̏̎̏̽̂Ṳ̸͈̋̾̀ͅS̸͇̗̟͉͚̔̏͒̃̍͗͌͋̃͘Ē̶̬̍̊͐̓̓̐ ̵̺͚̼͚̼̣͉͓̥̖̊͊̑̚͠Ǫ̵͔̹̔͆̉F̸̬͍̼̉̋̐̎̍̇͆̕͝ͅ ̶̡̪̹͕̐́̉͗̆͌͑̕T̷͈́͋H̴̢̧͖̰̒̏̽̚͝͝A̸̡̛̬̱͔̗͔̮̻̼͌̈́͊̎͘͝Ṫ̸̛͔̐ ̶̯̺̀̂̌͆͆M̸̛̝̓͝O̷̞̩̳̼͙̲̳̞͌̈̂̔̍͗̊̎͘N̸̛̙̤͚̮̈̂̈́̀͆̑̋͋̆S̷̫̝̥͖͇͇͉̰̊̔̏̾͗͐͜͝Ț̶̡̘̫̖̦̠̠̝̋̌͐̉͌̑͑̈́̈́̚E̴͔̯̼̊̈́̆̌͝͠R̵̨̲̦͖̓̿̐̎͛̇̅͠͝.̵̫̈̆̿͋̿̊”

Grief had a way of disconnecting a person from their senses. It had a way of severing them from this world. In a sense, when someone close died, the one left behind would stand at the threshold at the doors of Hades, close to crossing.

Zoro was there.

He had once stood on this precipice, with her, with Kuina, but he understood that it took real strength to look away from death. Just as in the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, looking back only causes sorrow and Zoro would not desecrate her memory, of Yosaku’s memory, by taking that wrong step.

He groaned as he lowered Johnny’s limp body to the ground, the weight lifting off him. The strain of holding Johnny had left him feeling drained, but he quickly shook it off. He had to get this conversation over with, take a moment to settle Ares’ fears, then he would be able to walk the shoreline and heave Johnny’s prone body onto his boat. They would sail off and eat the meat. Everything would be just fine.

Besides, there were perks to not constantly looking back. There was the concept of looking forwards to things. Zoro was eager for Johnny to awaken, he was eager to join Luffy once more, he was eager to accomplish his dream, none of that would happen if he were six feet under.

“H̷̱̹̲̩̾O̷͙͔͖̭͔̓̂̌͝W̴̡̫͚̦̹̍ ̷̤̭̗̺̅́W̶̖̰̤̥̖̏Ä̴̢̢͍̟͉́̅̋ͅS̸͓̋̀͒̌̍ ̴̬͍̝̉͂͊͠T̸̤͉̬̮̎̂̋͊H̷̟͌̆͠E̶̙̦̘̮̓̽͗̒̚ ̷̛̛͔̥͌̾̓̆Ć̵̫͎̏͆͘Y̷͎̻͔͈͛̏C̷͍͉̯̫̅̉̾L̸̮̯̠̳̯͇͋̊́̍́O̵̮̊͒́͊P̸̭̬̹̥̽̕͜͠S̵̪̃͂͘ ̵̧̱̭̲̤̺͛̓͘B̶̢̲̤͈̜̽̀̄E̴̜͉̍̚͝Ṯ̶̡͊Ț̴̪̟̫͑̑̓Ë̸͓́̒R̷͖̣͖̀̚ ̶̧͕̼̝̑ͅA̴͉̘͔͓̣̠̓̀͗̀T̷̥̦͇̎͒̆͆͌͝ ̷̞̺̞͐̏͑̇Ư̶͚͚̮̩̄̇Ń̸̞D̵͔͓̘̭̆̾E̵̢̱̓̉̃R̷̨̜͉̀̌͛͋͂Š̶̖ͅT̴̢̧͙̪̬̺̔̎̆̚A̶̧̳̖̪̩͐̀̃̂N̵̨̹͛̾̈́̚͝D̸̨͙̗̙̻̐̃̍͑͘I̷͔͚̍̈́̉͜Ņ̶͇̪̜͕̑͐̃G̶̟̱̝̯̓̈͐͆ͅ ̶̗̘̟̆͆̈́̋T̷̢̧̪͗̕Ḧ̵̨̼̘̜́̉͑͗A̷̧̤̲̗̯͚͒̆Ñ̶̗̽̐͒̚͠ ̷̛̦̠̜̜̪̭͒̚Y̸̢͈̜̬̠̜̒̈́͘͝Ö̸͉͇̰̬̠́͂̾͂͗̃Ǘ̴̥͂͝?̵̥̼͉̜̔̊̈́̉ͅ ̸̇́̿͒̄ͅT̵͖͚͍̭̺̈̚H̶̢̀̿̋́̔Ő̵̥̂̒͗̚͠S̴̟̃̂̄͐̈́Ẻ̸̙̣̲͍̟͆̔̈̈́̾ ̶͙͔͍̘͇͑̽̆Ḿ̸̭̬̫͉̉̅͜Ö̷̮́R̴̮̎̒́͌Ơ̴̡̳̽̃́͆͠Ņ̷̢̫͔̳̃̈́̄̈͝S̴̬͚̪̳̫̹̀̉̾̽̌͝ ̶͔͕͕̯̉͑̍̚K̸̻̰̭͆̋̊̎̄̓I̷̳͙͎͚̖̥̊͗͛L̷͓͉̑ͅL̵̥̬̱̘͎̈́E̸͙̗͕̗̼̟͂͋̋̑̔D̸͔̺́̀̆̓͗̈ ̶̜̲̹͐̊̀̀̎͜H̷̨̟̻̱̉́͜ͅI̵̢͓̙͉͕̣͌̂S̶̜̭̔͗́̔͘͝ ̴̩͋F̵͔͍̻͗̊̿̀͋̕͜ͅṚ̵̢̝̺̥̐Ḯ̶͕̝͋̿̚̕ͅĚ̸̹͋̏N̸̠͖̟̤̥̈́D̷̥͙̯͙̘͑̀̾͠ ̶̧̘̮͖̑Ą̵̮̲͓̑̑̎̅͝Ņ̵͈̫͍̔́͌̾̿͝D̷̤͕̪̠̺͕͊̓ ̶̯̙̐͜T̵͙̟͇̎̐͜Ǫ̶̱̑̈́̅̾̚O̴̡̦̣͔̯̍K̸̺̈́̏̎̉́ ̷̝̰̦̦̘̫̀̎͘R̴͓̱̠̽̏̑͝E̶̡̦̩̯͇͒V̴̨̧̟̹̒̓̚͝E̵̖͍̹̳̦̐͋̆̋͌N̷̞̏G̷͚̼͈̞͍̓Ẹ̵̢̺͉͙͝ͅ ̶̱̠̮̟̋͋̇̑͂̔W̶͉̊̐H̵̪̩̞̦͔̾̓Y̴̱͎͓̤̔̏̎̓̇̕ ̸̻̥̦̉̈͛͐͘͝C̸̯̱̙̈́̔̎Á̶͕͚̮Ṋ̷̡̤̼͈̀͐́̃͠͝T̸̡̨̠̻̯͛̾͌̏̕͜͠ ̸̺̲͕̩̬̯̉̑̊̓Y̴̮̾Ỏ̵̘̣̐U̸͖̮̍̊̽̂͝͝?̸̨̪̰̮͑̔͗͐”

“Because!” Zoro shouted, his voice sharp with frustration. “I’m not some kind of monster! I’m a swordsman, not a murderer! I’m not going to kill every fucker that pisses me off! I’m not here to be anyone’s executioner!”

“T̷̠̗͔̖͈̅Ḧ̷̜̩̝̮́̊͂͘É̶̢̫̝͚̿̓͌̕͜R̴̡̞̖̪̿E̶̙̟̙͍̦̓ ̵̞͊͜I̶̦͍͙̒S̸̟͓̱̆̄ͅ ̸̨͖͙̦̤̈͐P̴̭̤͚͠ͅŲ̵̟̺̄̓̾̄͗R̶̩̙̰̀̈́͋̕Ṗ̸̼̔̊͐O̵͈͕̱̎̎̄͠S̵͖̰̥͎͚̈́̉͑E̵̦̙̗̭̋̐̕͜͝͝ ̶̦̞̠͕̀͐͗̋T̶̨͚̭̽͋Ő̵̝̰̭͉͝ͅ ̴̥̐͛K̴̭͇̥͌͜Ì̴͍̹̙Ḽ̶̛̓̿̕L̶̨̦̣̳͈̋̂̆͐͠Ḯ̷͎̭̯̈́͒̅̚Ǹ̴̜̺͎͍́̂̽G̸̲̪̞͆ ̶̩̟͔͈̦͌̒̕Ḣ̶͖̹͒Į̵̹̞͂̓̔̅̚ͅM̷̧͚̭̣̅͛!̸̧̪̝̯͎͂͋͛̒ ̴̭̦̹͛͋̇́́Ä̴̹́̿͘ ̶̩̍́̀́̆L̸̠̹͙̺̂I̷̥̦͖̊͆̌͆F̴̨̜̹̳͙̈́̅̓̑Ě̵̠̽̾̐̕ ̶̺͇̬̘͉̿͑͝F̸̘̈́̕O̷̞͌̀̚R̸̼̥̝̝͓̚ ̶͕̰͇͒̿̑̌̀ͅA̵͙̣͉̺̫̽ ̸̖̂͝Ļ̸̯̦̈́͛̾̚͝Ī̴̧̪̐F̷͚̺̬̉̄̕E̸̦͐͋̓̌!̷͕̘̉̇̽”

That…didn’t sound very war-like.

“Ares.” Zoro said slowly, laced with warning. “You are a war god. You’re not Nemesis. You’re not Hades or Thanatos. You’re a war god. There’s no revenge with you, only battle. If I fucking go back there, it wouldn’t even be a fight, it wouldn’t be what I stand for. What you stand for.”

Zoro tried to steady his breath, tried to show Ares that he was cool and collected, but this conversation was putting him on edge. Ares went silent for a moment, his presence oppressive, a pressure ballooning in the back of Zoro’s awareness, as if considering his words.

He wasn’t always like this, was he? As infrequent as his visits had become in the last few years, Ares had been a stable figure in his life for as long as he could remember. There had been training sessions, in weapons and medicinal purposes, and Zoro remembered the careful lesson plans Ares had curated to elevate his education.

If he had changed—he had always thought of gods as static personalities—just as Zoro had, what had Ares turned into? Right from the beginning of this visit, he had yelled at Zoro to take his revenge, encouraged those thoughts within him. What had made him change like that?

“Ḯ̸̱̙̑ ̵̲͔̰͈̝̎Ṣ̶̛̱Ṭ̵̱̯̊͝͝Ã̷̮̒̈́̎͝N̴̗̣̄̌̆̀Ḍ̵̾̊ ̴̬̲̠̠͗̓͘F̸̹͎̭̃ͅŐ̵̘̐͐͠͝R̵̟̹͖̀̚͠ ̷̫͎̜̔N̵̥̩͆̇͗̒̉ͅO̵̯̮͚͋T̶̫̤̱̊͐Ȟ̸̤Ȉ̴̟͓̘̦̟͗̆̄̚Ń̵̰̹̣̺G̵̡͚͙̤̱̅̂͛͆̓ ̴̤̮̐B̶͇͚͚̗̐̈́̀̔̈U̵͍͍͖̿T̵͔̯͚͑͊͌̌͜ ̷̖͔̅̋͛͗̕B̵̧̢̟̦̑̒̚̚ͅL̷̘͙͓̫̦̀Ŏ̸͈͙͚̓̊̊̕O̷̘̹͂D̵̙̀͐̇̒.̷̛̥̣̹̪͖̏̅͝ ̵̛̬̪̦̜̕A̵̟̟͖̥̓̓̂͘N̵͎̻̠͓͌̌D̴̡̛̺́̋̋̀ ̵̡̡̨̮̖̂̈̋̾Ý̵̢̉̃͠Ő̸̳̔̓U̵̗̠̘̺̅ ̷̺̄H̸̹̰̜͍̍̍̒̉A̶̺̼̥̽V̵̜̥̯̯͗̌͆̀̽E̵̦̕͜͝͝ͅ ̶̖̩̪̎͆̓́̾D̴̪̯̤͌̌͆͐Ǐ̶͔̳͕̤̊̃̍͝S̸̙̠̠̐Ģ̴͙͔͇̐̿̈̉͜R̷̻̟̺̝̋͗A̴͖̜̗̼̫͗Ć̵̲͕̥̱̔͋Ě̷̪̲̼̃̚D̸̝̳̦̜̐̓̉̕͜ ̶͍̯͕̾̋Ý̴̡̲̦̬̯̈O̴̧̹̼͗͌̔̚Ů̸͇̮̦͝R̵̟͋͒̄͠S̶̳͇̦̖̉̏͐̎̈Ę̷̺͓̞̊͛̀̒L̶̡̧̛̥̞̄̊͘͜F̶̟̞̺̩̖͒́̅̕ ̷̢͎̫͕̣̒̀̎B̴̝̥̤͔͉̌̉Y̷̙̞͔̓̀ ̶̧̞͑̓̃͘͘Ń̷̪͉̝̮Ò̶̻͕̳͛̋͜T̵̫͔̽͜͝ ̴̫̎͝T̸͉̠̺̤̂̃̐͜A̴̻̘̋̕K̶͚͇͙͂̀Ȉ̸̧̩̻͈́ͅN̵̩̊̋͌̋̊G̸̭͔̹̲͌͋̈ ̴̣̈̌͑̎͌Ţ̷̠̑͝H̴̺̝̮͓̀̀́A̶̜̥̭̭̘͌T̴̳̊ ̴̦̫͙̬́́͌C̴͚̪̬̺̐͝R̶̺̣̟͇̀̑̔͘ͅĔ̴̤͎A̷̜̪̯͎͗̉T̶͇͊ͅU̵̟̿͑͋R̵̟̮͉̔E̴͓̙̯̲̜͌̃̍Ś̶̨̡̫͔͓̿ ̴̮̼̘̥͍̒Ľ̶͕͓̤̟I̶̙̥̹̤̗̍͗͑̄͑F̸̱̉E̵̫̲̞͖̪̐.̷̞͉̣̘̗̅̌̂̋͑ ̸̨̭̈̀̊A̸̯͒ ̴̨̨̦̼̅̾͛͂̈B̶̡̦̜̝̥̓̈̅͋Å̸̟͚̹̠̞̈̉͘T̷͙̦̟͗̋T̸͔̞͍̄̃L̸͇̃̓̀È̴̮̻̂̏͝ ̶̼̘̱̺̦̓̕Ị̶̄͐̎Ş̵̠̞̿͆ ̵̳͍̫̖̓͐Ñ̸̨͇͎̩̓O̸̠͓̥̻̫͐T̸̗̯̩̉ͅ ̶̡̩̻͇͉̂͋̌̕Ó̵̲̒̓͠V̸̦̜͑̿͊Ȩ̷̼̪̞̫͌͗̔͝R̸̮͎̿͑̄̂ ̸̱̤̅͊̚͠U̷͇̓̂̊̓̔N̴̢̨͓͉̂̌Ṯ̷̥͖̜̆̍̇͐͜I̸̞͆̀͑͜͠L̸̬͇̬̉̈́̊̕͜ ̸̺̱͇̑̑͑̍T̵͉͠H̴̥̺͈͒̌̄̍̂Ȇ̴̪̼̹̞͒ ̶̢͉͍̼̫̂͂͘Õ̵͍̩̥͉͆̾̕Ţ̸̺̗͐̉̔̅̉H̴̝̤̣̽̓͗͝E̷͙̜̺̺̊͊͆͘͝R̸̘̊ ̷̗͕̤͊̍̋̒͠S̸̮̗̻͉̝̓͋̌Ï̸͎̉̓D̸̮̝͚̲̉̽̓̀̈́ͅȨ̴̌̂̀ ̷̭̿̂͘Ỉ̵͇̻̗̀̉͊S̶̗͇̥̈̃̅̚ ̶̦̗͐́͘A̵̫̾̅L̸̡̙̣̞̋̀͑Ḽ̶̡̙͒̀̏̓͝ͅ ̵͕͍̜̖̤́̇D̷̲͆͌̈́͝͝E̴̛̖͖̫̮̙Ą̶̱̼̈́̔̈́͌̕D̵̡̛̥̩̈́͒͘͝”

Yeah, no. Zoro rolled his eyes, feeling the familiar spark of defiance flicker within him. He straightened his back and tried to contain his laughter.

“Then you would have wanted me to kill Ussop?” Zoro huffed out a laugh. “When he fought Luffy? You wanted me to kill my friend? That battle had been for the Merry’s life but me killing him would been an asshole move.”

“N̸͚̩̘̈́͆̏̍ͅO̷̧͖̘̬͍̽̍̇̂̕,̴̜̩̠͌ ̴͙́͊̍̌Ḃ̴̙̘̭̗͌̚U̶̱̤͇̾̔͛̓̎T̴̢̮̙̪͊̓̿̚ ̶̡͋̅͘̕Ÿ̷̲̙̥̖͈́Ò̷̗̻̺̲̺U̷͓̭̥̬̤̔̾ ̵͙̱͙̂W̶̳̝̠̌̈́̀̐̎Ơ̵̘̆̒̈͝Ǘ̷̩̎͂͝L̶͈̠̜̈́̇͝D̸̰̩̀Ņ̴̗̲̟̺́̀T̶͎̆̚ ̸̭͎̄͊̿̆B̶̟̃̿̊͂ͅḚ̵̢̗̜̀̒̆͐̅ ̶̰̫̀I̸̤͋͊͛̚N̴͚̭̪͒ͅ ̶͚͚̘͈̖͋̑͆̔T̶̻͍̻́̀͘͘͝H̵̡͚̯̀̀́͘͜͝Î̵͓̆͘Ṣ̸̋̈̚͝ ̷͍́M̶̩̟͎̖̓͐͝͝Ę̴̝̞͘S̷̰̊̈́͐̅̕S̷̙̱̉̄͝͝ ̸̙̳͈͎̹͐̈́̾̎Ị̷̜̐̀̈̎̀͜F̷̢̺͚͂ͅͅ ̴̠͉̦̺̳̽͂̈́Y̶̼͊Ö̵̱͖U̴̘͊̀ ̷͓͍̈̂͌̀W̷̡̠̺̥̃̈́̓̂ͅĖ̷͍̣̥̰̯Ŕ̶̲̜̊̀͜͠͝Ȩ̷͇̘̙̃̆̄̐̚N̷̫̓̎͘͘͠T̵̲̖̰̰̽̾ ̸̮̐̐̄̄S̵̨͈̘̐̆͑̾͘ͅỎ̸̗͓̱ ̸̥̔̌̈́̊Ṣ̷̛͙̦͇̐̉̕O̷̤͎̱̿̑̓͘F̸̡͕͓̪̣̂͋T̷̻̬̀.̷̨̛̣̼̭̈́ ̵̡̯̖͓̔͝Ṯ̶̩͖̗͈͂̿͋Ḩ̵͙̺̲̈̽̽̒̽ͅÉ̷̘̜̰̟͖Y̴̟͗̇͝ ̴̲́W̵̬̻̻̜̘̐̓E̶̢͚͇̝̭͒̅R̵͈̹̽͑̂̓E̸̺̹̺̊̀̀̐ͅ ̸̨̅̐R̸͙̣̯͎͌I̵̱̩̰̟̥̽͑̂̀̆Ĝ̵̠H̴͚̮̦͉͒̈̐T̴̳̉͌̀̀̕,̵͍̜̙̔̇͝ ̸̧̩͔̖͊̔Ý̷̝Ò̷̢̜̱͓̘̀̏͊Ṵ̸̕͜ ̶̺̥̙͖̽̃̀Ḱ̶̯̠̞̰̀͌͋̕ͅN̴͚̈͝͝͝Ȯ̷̧͋͘W̸̺̕,̶̭̰̱̘̤͑ ̵̨̖̬̝͒̑͊̄̑Y̴̜͓̳̟̊̍̃̾͝ͅO̴̧̯̪̤̻̔U̵̫̹̙̳̎̆’̸̨̟̔̇͋̌̂Ŕ̷̢̧̹̩̈͜E̶̬̰̊́͘ ̸̣́̈́̍̍͝Ń̴̜̂͆O̸̙̝͎͛́T̷͚̗͂́Ȟ̶̭̜̮̦̦̈̾̒͠I̵̳͋͑̈́N̸̯̈͂̒ͅG̵̞͇̾ ̶̨̗͈͉͕̀̇Ľ̴̇͌ͅI̶̦͉͎̳͌͑͊͂̆͜K̴̤͇͍̉̍͗̋E̴͔͇̞̪̅͌̂̿̒͜ ̶̨̝̜͠H̷̤̯̹͚͜͝O̸̺͕̻̹̒̕W̶̢͉̞͙͋̂ ̷̱̀̐͋Ì̷̫͈͑́ ̷̺͕͋͛W̵̻͒̌̑̀A̷̲͖̲̥̋N̵͚̏̎̎̏T̸̫̱͙͓̞̃̆̃̑̊È̶̲D̸̞̒̓̉̒̕ ̴̮͓̜̤́̆͜Y̷̫͇̮͌͂̎O̵͎̘͙͍̠̎̌́͌͝U̶̙̕ ̶͖̰͔̻̻͂̆͆́T̸͙̞̩̫͔̍̅Ọ̸̡̤̝͖̽̇͠ ̴̧̗͇̐́̄̌̕B̸̞̮̄̅Ȅ̵͚͉͓̹̀̀̈́.̴̫̍͛̏͒̈́ ̵͖̹̕͝I̷̟̥̺̿͒̓F̵̥̘͛ͅ ̴̟̣̏͌̓͝ͅÝ̶̨͠Ǫ̴̱͇̿̾U̷͚͔̅̈͘͜ ̸̡̪̯̙̇W̷̲̖̭̭̿͒͐Ė̵̬̙̺R̴͕͚͗E̵̲͖͋,̴̨̢̖̘͇͗̔̾ ̴͍͙̹͉͗̈́̊͗Y̴̳̝̬̪̘̿O̷̩̥̿̄͜ͅÛ̷̦ ̸͖͔͙̹̄̍͠W̵͚̹͑̉̊̆̀O̸̹̟̯͖͍̅Ù̶̻̻̦̲͍́L̸͈̹̼̩̓Ḓ̴̣̓͜ ̷̺͓̟̝̱͝S̵̳̭̮̀͜͝T̷̢͔̂I̷̖̒͘͠L̴̩͔̈̿͝L̷͙͖̥̓͌ ̵̜̼̠̹͒͆̌͝ͅB̵̡̛̝Ĕ̵͈̠̐̎̆ ̵̣͉͍̠́W̷̧͕̜̙̋͑́̃I̸̺̳͒̓̽́́ͅT̶̹̿Ḧ̵̪̥̘͖̺́̉̐ ̶̫͉̈́Ỳ̷̢̯͕̄Ỏ̸̥̬͒U̴̢̨̹̝̐̑R̸̰̖̮͙̝̆̕ ̷̺̐̄̏̎̇C̸͓̺̐̌̚R̷̞̯̪̯̰̍E̷̹͌͑͠W̷͓̜͋́”

“Excuse me?” Zoro growled. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought you said it was my fault my crew was sent flying.”

“T̸̯͂̑̄̈͠H̷͓̮͕̽͆̊̚͜͠A̴̺̞̙̠̫̐͐̄͝͠T̸̲̭͕̝͋Ŝ̷̼̫͌͐ ̶̹̯̎͒̔̿È̶̖͈͑X̶̻͈̳̮͋̄̀̆͘A̴̭̘̔̽̈́̓̐Ć̴̮͇T̸̳̹̎̔̑̅̕Ļ̵͙̪̕ͅY̸̱̰̹̯̘̑̒ ̴̡̧̙̘̜́̀̔̽̕Ẅ̵̝̠́̇͝H̷͉͑̎̓͜͝A̶̭̹͚̋͋͋̓T̴̟̈́͑̾̆͠ ̷̭͍͋Ḯ̶͕̙̈́̆͋ ̷͕̎͑͋S̶̘̟̺̿͑̇̎Ȃ̵̗͕͐I̷̥͓̍̇Ď̴̟̥͛̓̾͠ͅ.̴̤̈́̎̓̾̉ ̸̧̲͌͐̈́Ị̸̦͋̔̎T̷̪̙̯̄̾S̴̯̈̈̏̋͘ ̴̺̒B̸̪̌̎̓͘E̵͖͒Ē̶͓͍̦͓̽̈ͅN̸̨̹̈́͒͂̕͘ ̷͍̮̪̌̈́͑͂͠F̷̨̆A̶̬͓͈͐̄̓̚Ĩ̶̜͂̉͛͑L̵̼̲̈́̄͐̚ͅŰ̶̲͈͌̌R̶̖̊̋̅́́Ḙ̵̀ ̷̖̓͝Ą̷̤̭̫͆͘F̶̬̜̟̗̞͝T̷̄̆͜E̷͎̪̠̒̿Ŕ̸̗̳̯͚ ̶̛̣̈́̒͛̽F̴͇̪̹̭͂̀A̷̘͕̋͌̔̕̕I̸̝̙̰̪̩͑̉̀̍̒L̷̞̟̠͍̇͑̊̈́Ų̷̨̻̳͗́̍̾͘R̷̢̮̰̺̃͐̒̚͜E̶̩̗͑ ̷̯͑͐W̵̮̰͍̳̙͒Ĭ̸̪͓̀̾̕͠T̸͙̠̫̓̌H̶̙̳̑̉̅ ̵̪̗̗̾̽͛Ỳ̶̭͂͂́͠O̸͇̺̅͊́͘͝Ǔ̴͍̒̆̋͘ ̸̢͐͗͆͒Ļ̷̩̲̯̼̈́͌A̷͎̒̑T̸̻̰̠͓͊Ẽ̵͕̥͓̖̠͗͝Ḷ̷̗̳̜̳͋͋̚Ÿ̸̡̜̮̦͈́̋̊.̸͙̪̠̻̚ ̷̨̻̯̖͈͆F̷̛̱̭͉͓̼́͂Ì̷̳̪̜̈́͆͒͠Ṙ̸͙͇S̸̨͎̱̿͗T̵̯̤̹̘̉̂ ̶̨̡̧̔̓̈͝M̸͔͒̓̄͝Ĩ̷͖̥̜̙̳Ḣ̴͈̫͙͕̂͌͘Ȁ̷͖̳̇̔ͅW̸̡͍̝̤̊̂̀͘K̷̪͇̘̾̈́̉̍,̶̭̍̈́̃̉̀͜ ̸̞͒̚T̸̙̄H̸̢̲̿Ḛ̸̺͛̇Ǹ̵̝̥͖͙̊̚̚ ̶̝̪̽̈́̈́̍T̷̛̯͎͈̐͌̂̅H̸̩̼̩̝̖̾̕̚R̵͓̋̎I̸̻͐͋Ļ̶͓̬̇͗͘͠L̴̨̩̝̝͛̉͊̊͋͜Ḝ̴͘͠R̵̗̍̾̿ ̵̫̺̖̏̂B̶̧̨͆̍̉̆̐A̵̱̓R̴̞̠͂͌K̶͈̙̹̮̼̿̏̄̒.̴͈̗͚̞͂͒̍͜ ̸͎͎͚̲̒ͅT̷͇̤̲͍͆̀̾H̴̬͉̤͗̋E̸̲̬̮͇̓̐̍̿Ǹ̵͚̩̫̘͛̆͒ ̴̢̯̠͓́̅͂̏͊Y̸̙͇͕̣͉͌̔͛́Ỏ̶̘̖̗̜͋̅̈́͘U̵̦̟̬̼͂̾̑͜ ̷̬́̓͠F̸̩̟̍͠A̶̢̡̫̥̠̋͋̓̆̍Ḯ̷̛͙̑͊͋L̵̜͍̝̃̃̾E̴͉̫̓͗D̴̩̀̉ ̸̰̍̑̿̋͘Ẏ̸̫͙̣͌̈͒̕O̵̦̹̘̭͗̄Ȗ̷̙̋́̔R̴̖̗͇̂̄ ̸̤̬̑͊̌͋C̴̝̼̬̞͋̚ͅŔ̸̢̨̲͙̯̈́̄͠Ȩ̸͔͎̥̂̈́ͅW̸̦̌̿̾ ̸̡̹̒̈͑͋Ą̶̿̒͊Ǹ̷̛̘̘̝̪͚͠D̶͎̙̻̋͜͠ ̵̱͍̑̂Y̴͓͙̋̆̏̏͝Ȱ̶̤̱̀͠U̷̫̤̩̺͝͝R̷̥̠̹̤̻͌̊͝E̴̤̭̜̎ ̴̡̞̫̻̃͜F̶͕̣͒͂̌A̷̧͉̻̹̿͛̽͆͝I̴̻̘̱̮̋̓̔̚L̶̛̜͓̰͑͐̆̀I̷̡͎̹͉̽̒̎N̴̳̩̦͒̂͌Ḡ̷͔̬͆ ̵̙͍͎̃̒͆̂̚Y̴͇̘̫̅͋̋̀͝ͅO̶̠̱̬͚̊́S̵̲͓̬͚̬̈́Ȧ̸̢͓K̵̗̳̺̱͌̈́͝Ư̵̬͍͔͕͕̓̐́”

“You think I don’t fucking know that?” Zoro scowled. “Maybe I’m not the warrior you wanted but I’m still the one you taught. I’ll be a swordsman without become a monster like you.”

“Y̸̨̦̭̟͙͛͆Ö̸̡́͗͝U̴̱̍Ľ̸̺͙͜͝ͅL̶͈͈͎̝̇͜ ̸͈̰̻̃̎̓̉͝N̷̖̱̪͂͘͘̕͠E̷̢̜̥̬͉̍̈́V̴͔̥̣̜̀͗̚Ḙ̶̡̧̛̥̉̍́Ŗ̶̛̠̎̽̚ ̷̲͙̲̚G̴͕̩̳̼̈Ę̷̡̰̒̅͊T̶̥̝͚̈́͐ ̵̞̖̳͋̏͊Y̷̱̤̦͂Ő̴̧̤̖͓̓̎̑̕Ů̶̱ͅR̶͔͔̒̈́͆͘͜ͅ ̷̳̯̝͚̯̑̀̂̋͝F̶͕̤̯̒̚͝R̷̮̘̝͇̉Į̶̪̟̪͖̍̄́E̷̺̾̈́̊N̴̍͌ͅD̶̤̫̥͙͓̈́͒̔͐S̶̯̳̀ ̵̹̙̫̟̅̍Ḅ̵̭̎͗͊͝ͅA̷̮̦̾̈C̵̪̗̺̱͒͋͐͗K̵̟͍͚̣̔ͅ ̷͍͆A̷̝̩̮̍̆̓̐͂T̵̙̬͗̀́̀̚ ̴͙͇͓̗̔͑̈́̐T̵̟̣̊͘H̷̜̹̰̺͆̍͐A̷̧͙͑̑͆T̵̨̛͔̅̒̌̃ ̴͔̮͖̹̹́̈́̎̐͝R̶̬͇̰͋̓̔͜Ǎ̵̡̟̹͔͑T̸̲̪̞̒͂È̵̺̄͗̍͝”

“WELL!” Zoro shouted. “AT LEAST I HAVE FRIENDS!”

The silence that followed was heavy, charged with the tension between them, but Zoro’s words hung in the air, ringing with a truth that neither of them could deny. He wasn’t like Ares. He wasn’t a god of war, a being of endless bloodshed. He was a swordsman—a protector of those he cared for.

The sung hung low in the sky, casting everything in shades of crimson and gold, bleeding colours through the sky as if a battle had been fought and won above him. The sky was on fire, the shining lights reflecting down on the foliage that they stood among, casting long shadows where he stood.

Í̸̗͛͛̽͝ ̴̹͌̈́̓͂S̷͔̥̹̯͙͋E̷̪͈͍̍̎͘É̷͎̦̯̱̰̂̒͠.̶̟̲̃̾ ̵̢̐͆̑̏͠A̶̬̫͒̅̅͘F̴̨͈̒̌̃̌̌T̸̜̺̘̻̈̍̿É̷̤͙̬̾͝R̵̦̦̣̾̈͝ ̴̖̻̦̓̓͊̍͝Ȁ̶̻̜͎̺͜L̸͕͌̄̕͜L̶̻̚͠ ̶͇̮͎̈́̈̿̅T̷͇̲̜͍̓͝ͅḨ̴̗͈̼̄̈̒E̵̢̱̘͆͒̇͋͝S̴̻̳̥̜̉̆̔̕͝Ẹ̵̰̆ͅ ̶̡̛̱̠͌͛̎Ÿ̴̦̳́E̵͚̱̱̬̜͑́A̶͕̗͚͐̌̉R̴̢͈̟̞͍̉̋̀̚Š̴̫̰̺̖͒̚ ̷̧̒̔Ą̶̡̫̙̒̓̕Ñ̶̝̘D̵̘̒̃̆ ̴̖̙͒͆̽Y̴͈̤̤̭̎̃͊Ơ̶̰Ú̸̡͙̖̖̜͝ ̷̡̧̦̚D̴̙͈̞̮̭͌͝͝͠O̶͉͍̮̩͎͌N̸̼̖̝̏͛͒͘͝T̸͚̦̼͈̓́ ̸͕̳̃̊̋U̴͎̅N̵̳̎̾̒̉̎Ḑ̴͉̤̤̑͆̓͋E̷̪̗̍̑̿̐̕R̵̩̭̪̝͊S̸̖̲̱͌̈̚T̷̜̐͆͒̋Ȧ̶̪̹͎N̴̢͖͛Ḍ̵̬͑͆̅̌.̴̫̱͝ ̴̙̞̀W̷̼̹͚͍̉̎̄̉̕A̶̢͉̓R̶̡̹͐ ̶͕̩̤͍̖̌̈́̎̕A̶̧͓̞̒͗̓̇̾Ń̸̻̦͖͗͝D̵͓̈̈́͠ ̸͈̗̥͕͛Ḇ̴̗͓̦͋̈́͐̓Ấ̷̭̝̘Ṯ̴̯͊̉̈́Ț̵̺̯͛͝L̸̢͔͖̤͑̈́ͅḘ̸͇͍͍̥͐͌ ̸̛͚̋̒̽͐ͅA̶̭͙͚̍R̴̛͖͖̋͒̓̈́E̸̞͕͎̤͝ ̸͙̪͈̥͖̕N̷̡̩̋̀O̸̮̺̽͒T̷̠̝̂Ḣ̴̨̺̘̹̤́̇̽̏I̷̬͊Ň̸̫̬͍̞͈́̿͑G̸̘̦̠̐̇̊̈͌ ̷͙̈́̅͐̀Ẁ̴̬͓̗͚͌̊̾͗I̴͍̓͘T̷͖̩̣̥͌̃͊̚͘H̷͕͑̈́̚ͅO̸̜͚̼̝͚͆͐͒͗̿Ù̷̬̝̎̀́̐T̷͖͔̙͔͕̊̂͛ ̴̼̺̺̂̏́T̶̡̺̝͒͛̌̊͜͝Ḣ̷̑̍̕͜E̸̙̣̹͎̬̓̌͑ ̵̺͛͒͑P̵̘͂̅̉̉͗E̸̥̓͆̑O̵̰̝̬͆̿͊P̶̠̆͑͋̏̒L̶͈̰̯̪̊͌E̸̞̎̕ ̴̦̀͛̊̒F̴̗͇̉Į̴̯̐̒̏͝͝Ğ̶̭̭̭̀Ḩ̴̛͑͗̿͠T̵̨͎̃̀̐Ĩ̴͎̞Ṅ̵̡͙̱͘͜G̴̼̋̀̒̎̊ ̴͚͛̌̅Ḭ̸̡̼͚̍Ǹ̶̞̌͠ ̸̥̉̌Í̶̧͎̥̞͕͠T̶͎͎̰̩̿.̶̧͔̪̽ ̴̪̻̤̓É̵̼̰V̷̹̪͊̈́̅͝͠È̴̲̭̕Ŕ̶͔̀̿̓͆Ŷ̷̢̱͒͂̆ͅ ̷̦̰̟̈́̿Ļ̵̧̤͓̂̾̑͛̃I̷̢͇̤̖͆̇̀ͅF̸̝͔͍̂̐͝E̷̗͈̿ ̸̯̱̜̏ͅM̸̛̲̐̏̅̆Û̷̧̪̑S̸̱̜̯͂̄̍Ṱ̵̘̹̭͂̌̅̊ ̷̬̺͐̑̿B̵̜̕Ė̸̠̏ ̵͇̤̙̳̪͛͒H̴̝̟̀̾̀̆Ő̶̗͙̳͜͠Ń̷̰͓̖͖̍O̸̬͓̝̞̊U̴̫̹̟̝͐͜Ŕ̶̻́͐E̷͚͖̟̠̎D̷̛͍ͅ.̷̳͚͇̹͉̋͊ ̵̬̮̙̑̽Y̴̡͊͑O̶͇̺̘͒͗̀͜Ű̷̧̜͖̖̝̽̀̀L̶̛̛͇̼̤̄̈́͘L̵͍̋̉͊͆̉ ̴͈͕̦̲͚̐̈́Ũ̴̦̮͙̥Ṇ̵̢͓͓̈̚D̴̙̯̥̄͗̆E̴̱͗̾R̶̡̠͊͊̊Ş̶͚͙̜̍̾Ṯ̶̫̻͕̓́̈́Ȃ̴̦͠Ǹ̸͇̪͂Ḏ̷̛̭͘ ̶̥̮̹̪̖͂̏̿͊̈Ö̵̡̳̟͙́̌̈́̔̈́N̴̢̰͎̥͙̍̽É̵̢͙̐ ̷̣͋Ḑ̸̣͔͐̃͑ͅĄ̸͕͕̻͒͂̚̕͝ͅY̵̧̲͈̯͒.̶̺̀̍̏̾͘”̵̙̦͔̫̔̃

“Honoring them doesn’t mean I gotta kill someone in their name.” Zoro couldn’t help but add.

B̵̡̦̱̞͌͌̌̄̚U̴̡̻̭̤̽̽T̷̲͎̔͜ ̴͇̑͐̿I̶͕͐T̷̨̞̬͖͔͌̚ ̷̥͠Ḿ̶̬̞̞̟E̶̫̳͔͚͎͆̑̕Ă̷̟̤̭͍̌̈́͂Ň̴̯̥S̸͍͇͉̓̋̈̕ ̵͚̣̭̞͊̊̆̈̊B̵̻̹̬̅̂̈́̈́L̴̳͕̰̅͒I̷̡͔̘̬̖̿̂͆N̶̻̙̜͍͗́Ḋ̶̢̼͈I̴̤̯͓̜͊͊̚̕͜N̷̼̎̽̈ͅG̷̩͕̻͆̓͂͑̈́͜ ̵̺̀̅̋̋͠T̸͖͙̥̫͙̈́͐̈́H̴̪̀̏̏͝͝E̸̥͈̖̻̣͑̂͝M̴̜̌̓̒?̷̟̾̕ ̵͈̰͇͔͙͐͘Y̴̩̦̘̯̰͗͛͊Ó̴̖͛̂͠U̷͈̒͝ ̵̢̦͍͕͕͋Ĥ̷̙̈͝A̴̰͋́V̵͇̯͕̗́͋̉̋̾ͅE̸̳̫̤̼͆̀͐̌͠ ̸̝͎̘̩̥̅A̴̧̛̦͉͒͐̿̀L̶̗̠̹̤̪̅̈Ẇ̸̯͝A̸̖̺̮̓͒̃̐͝Ÿ̵͍̤͈̟̥́̆́̀͘S̷̨̨̡̼̪̈́ ̵͚̙̐̈B̴̹̤͕̀̇E̶̺͗͗͆E̴͖̰͚̼̤̎N̵̲̓̊ ̶̻̮͕̂̆̐͛I̵̒̎̎̕͜N̶̡̛̳̘͜C̵̛͓̙͈̤̍Ȯ̶̡̦͈̻͖̈́̾͂͛N̶̘̳̆̽͘͜ͅS̷͙̀̒̿̓̏͜İ̸̢̗S̸͎̟̔T̸̢͚̳̻͔̅̈̐̈́͊Ȩ̴̀N̸̨̡̠̎͝T̴͓̺͋̾̓͒ ̷̣͇͚̽̅̍̒̚Á̶̗̅N̴̰̈́͐̌͊D̷̗̐̌ ̵̤̠̲͔͒̄͂̌͠A̴̧͌̽̏̐Ỉ̵̦̟̘͆̂͜͝M̶̢̹̣̐̏̀̋̏Ḽ̸͙̓Ë̷̲̘̳̺́̋̓̃̍S̴̼̟̘̝̭͂̈́̈́̉̈́S̴̝̠̞̤̄̅̈́̚.̸̪̏”̷͎͕͘

Zoro thought back to his days in the East blye, his first sighting of Mihawk. That man had been his first and clear goal. He didn’t need a grand strategy back then and he didn’t need one now. His approach had been straightforward: fight when challenge, protect those who needed it, and keep moving on.

When Luffy was in danger, or Nami, or any of them, he didn’t stop to think. He fought. His plans weren’t like Ares, he had never been to war to require long drawn out plans. They were instinctual, forged in the heat of battle and the moment’s urgency. Maybe that’s where they diverged, Zoro trusted his drive for being the best while Ares just wanted the heat of battle.

“And yet! I’ve made it so far!” Zoro countered. “Without you, even. You’ve never been there, not really. I made it all on my own and I’ll—”

“̶̙̪͉̟̫̉̎C̸̼͚̈́̏̊͝Ǒ̴̏͗̔ͅṆ̸̢̥͕̙̏͗̈́̕T̵̢̮͊ͅĮ̴͍̜̣̙̽N̸̨̞̝̞̊͛̈́Ủ̸̘̦͗̀͝Ȩ̵̟̺̓͂̓͌͆ͅ ̷̥̳͑͗͜T̴͉̤̦̃Ȯ̷̡̥̦̳̓̑͋̐ ̵̢̭̱̾͠B̸̢̥̟͙̎́̔͒E̴̩̱̭͎̠̽̆͗̚ ̸͔͕͚̩̃͠Ḁ̵̜͓͙̉̊͂̉L̵͖̠͚̤̓̌̋Ó̸͙̓Ǹ̸̨̧̺̗Ę̴̬̱̕.̷̭̳̲̾̎͌́͠”̷͕̼̽̒͝

Was that what he wanted? The thought lodged itself deep in his chest, gnawing at him. It wouldn’t be so different from how things had been going, right? Ares was never really there. The god had always loomed over him like a shadow, distant and harsh, watching from afar, judging his every move. Their lessons, once intense and meaningful, had dwindled to occasional visits—more like a burden now than any kind of guidance.

Zoro barked a bitter laugh, though there was no joy behind it. “Is that what you really think? I don’t need your kind of power. I’ll become the best swordsman in the world my way. Not yours.”

“̸͙͕̓̉̆̿Y̵̛͙̣͚̬̓͘O̸̞͒̈̚̕͠U̴͔̦̣̅͘͝ ̶̧͚̯̗̊̾̈́̾͑W̵͓̦̞̒I̴̤̥͂̃̓̌̉Ḻ̴̛̻͉͈͋̔͠ͅL̷̬̦̳̕ ̴͖̾R̵͖̄͝E̵͚̮͎̩̾͌̄͒Ģ̶̅͛̋̎̚R̶̝̝͐E̵̅̒̆͝͝ͅT̴̬̱́̐ ̵̛̼͎̝̼̱̂T̷͉̖̙̮͒́̈̅̄H̴͍̜̏̄̽͛͆Ḯ̵̩̻̹̬̂̚͜S̷͙̾͝.̶̲̦̽”̴͇̍̾̈́

His voice shook with rage, but beneath it, there was something else—something that made this all sound so final?

“̶̝͓̩̠̯̀̃͊̌Ý̶̙̯́̓O̷̧̤̖̟͌ͅṲ̷͖̣̙̃̑ ̷͉̰̻̄W̶͔̔̽̽͑̓Ỉ̷̙̩̤̳̈́̃͋L̶͉̺̝͑̍͊L̸͈͎̜̱͍̿̌̈́͘ ̸̜̠͕͖̽̾̃͐͜F̶̢̩̥͋ͅǍ̵̫̼I̷̤̗̣͓̍́̉̔͠Ḻ̷̡̯̳̝͌.̴͖͔̫̑͒͜ ̸͔̭̈́̾͊A̸̧͕̤̘͙̎̓N̶͙̠̍D̷͚̩̜͂̅͌ ̵̲̗̆̚W̵̨̘̏H̶͍̣̘̥̄̀̕E̵͇͇̘͖̓́͐N̷̖̾̈́̃ ̶̛̫͇̻͊̅͋Y̶͔͙̐͝O̴͖͍̳̰̦̾U̷̯͓̯͆̐̾̄͂ ̸̡̛̟́D̷̦͐̍̇̕Õ̶̧͔̾̈́̕̕,̶̺͍̍ ̶͖͕̬̥͋̌ͅY̴̡̙̮̦̯͐̾́̿́O̶̧̮̲̱̅̌̍Ų̵̥̞̺̓ ̷̧̹̤̳͊̕W̵̦͗͊̋͌I̴̯̿͋̿̇̚L̸̻͊̋L̴͕͓̦̙̀̿͜ ̵̦́̈́͘F̷͎̰̓̈́I̶̳̪̭̠͎͑̋N̷̠̟̤̞̉ͅD̵̪̈́̋̓̀ ̸̲̦̝͎̱̋̅͒͠Y̴̛̹̎̎O̷̪͂̂̀̓̊U̵̩̐̕ͅR̴̗̮̥̐͋̑S̸̰̰̻̤̲̋̅E̴̠̼̘̎̒͜L̶̛̦̓̽͌F̷̺̭̜͓̒͊͊̾̏ ̸̢̞͓̝́T̴̨͙͚̓̾͑͝R̷̡̨̺̘͔͂̋U̵̜̓̓̑̓̈́Ļ̴͚͍͉̮́͆̈̏̆Y̸̨͚̖͇̎̔̀͐͝ ̵͓̰̝͔̿̔̊Ä̵͉̼́́̇̕͝L̵̡̻̗̪̟͛͒́Ǒ̵̯͙͙̜͙͛̆N̵͖̭̠͆̀̒E̴̡̛̫͉̎̕̚ͅ.̴͇̀̏̂̀”̴̝̀̽̔͛̋

Zoro’s gaze hardened, the tension between them thick as the final words hung in the air. “I won’t fail,” he said quietly, but with a certainty that was unshakable. “And if I do, I’ll get back up again. Without you.”