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Chapter Text

The first time Zoro sees Monkey D. Lucy, the sky is a hard, clear blue and the earth is packed dense beneath his feet.  His skin is cracked and burned from the relentless sun and cloudless days without rain, and his shoulders burn with strain.  He is half starved, having gone three weeks without food, and it has been two days since they’ve given him water.

Then this girl shows up, and she’s one of the most unimpressive people that Zoro has ever seen.  She’s short, and thin as a rail.  She could pass for a boy if she really wanted to, especially with the scar under her eye, but the way she’s dressed and the angle of her jaw and brow line make her obviously female.   Her dark hair looks unbrushed and wild, sweeping around just above her chin.  Her straw hat clearly hasn’t protected her well from the sun, since there’s a splattering of freckles across her nose and cheekbones.  It makes her large dark eyes look deeper.

He would guess her to be about fifteen, maybe younger, but the way she’s dressed and the way she carries herself push her age up.  She’s wearing short denim shorts that hug her hips a little too maturely and lowly for a girl of fifteen, and she wears a red plaid shirt that shows off her midriff with the way it’s tied in a knot underneath her small breasts.  Between her attire and the confident way she sticks her thumbs in her front pockets and leans back in her sandals, she has to be closer to his age, maybe a bit younger.  No fifteen-year-old girl that Zoro has ever seen looks quite that confident in her own skin, especially when she isn’t particularly voluptuous.

The first thing she says to him is “are you really that strong?”

Honestly, that’s just insulting.  It’s not like Zoro let himself get tied to a post for no reason.

The second thing she says is “join my crew.”

Zoro is pretty sure at this point that he’s hallucinating, that the heat has finally gotten to him.  But he still has enough energy to attempt self-preservation, and as such he flat out refuses—the girl might be a hallucination but he can still sense the crazy coming off her from miles away.

 She doesn’t take no for an answer and ultimately blackmails a yes out of him.

Well, kind of.  Zoro somehow knows, deep down, that if he didn’t want to travel with her, if he didn’t want to be one of her nakama, then she wouldn’t stop him from leaving, oath or not.  She’d probably find a way to release him of his vow, actually.  Equally, he knows that she understands what an oath means to him—that he can’t break one and still live.

Weirdly, that knowledge makes him less inclined to leave than almost anything else might have.

He still threatens to kill her if she gets in the way of his dream.  She is almost bizarrely okay with that.

“World’s Greatest Swordsman?  Well that’s only fitting for the Pirate King!”

She’s the only person he’s met with dreams bigger and more impossible than his own.  Maybe that’s why he’s so content to call her “Captain” that first time, right after she helps free him from his tormentors.  Her belief in her own dream makes his feel more tangible—so much so that he can taste it.

Monkey D. Lucy is five and effectively an orphan when she first meets Shanks.

Maybe it was predictable, but she only meets him because Makino, who unofficially assumed responsibility for the irrepressible child, tries to put a dress on her.  Lucy ran screaming from the back room of the bar and ran straight into Shanks.

Lucy blinks up, up, up at the red-haired man.  They stare at each other for a few seconds.  Lucy likes him instantly because he has a cool scar, and that must mean he’s strong!

Hey!  Maybe he would protect her from Makino, the hag!

Lucy sticks one accusatory finger out at the flustered bartender, and says seriously, “She’s trying to kill me.”

Makino gasps, probably offended.  “Lucy.”

The man doesn’t break eye contact with Lucy.  “How?”

Makino is too poised to scowl, but Lucy thinks she probably wants to.  “I was not—”

“She tried to make me wear a dress.”  Lucy intones with all the seriousness the crime deserves. “With lace.  And bows.”

A murmur of stifled laughter rings the bar.  Lucy scowls at the other patrons before returning her gaze to the red-haired man, reluctantly hopeful.  He hadn’t laughed, so maybe he understands how awful dresses are?

“And you don’t want to wear a dress?”  He asks instead.

Lucy pouts.  Clearly he doesn’t understand.  “I want to be a pirate!  Pirates don’t wear dresses!”

The man’s expression twists up in a wide grin.  “Well that’s true.  I don’t know any pirates that wear dresses.  Some wear skirts though.”

But that sounded like—! “Do you know many pirates?”

The red-haired man winks.  “Kid we are pirates.”

Lucy gasps, completely blown away.  “Really?  What’s your name?  Are you the captain?  Can I be a pirate on your crew?  You won’t make me wear a dress, right?”

The man laughs, a broad grin on his face.  “I’m Shanks, and I’m the captain.  Maybe when you’re older.  Like Makino-san’s age.  And I don’t care if you wear a dress or not, so long as you’re wearing clothes.”

Lucy nearly cries.

Shanks seems to notice because suddenly he’s frowning in concern.  Makino steps forward, courteous as ever.  “Er, Shanks-san?  I don’t think her grandfather would be too happy about that.  He wants Lu-chan to be a Marine.”

Shanks turns to the bartender, eyebrows raised.  “Hmm?  And who’s her grandfather?”

“Monkey D. Garp, Marine Vice Admiral.”

Shanks lets out a whistle.  Lucy is suddenly afraid he’s going to take back what he said, about joining his crew.  “And your name is, kid?”

Lucy stands to her full height, chin raised proudly as she glares up at the pirate.  “Monkey D. Lucy!”

The pirate smirks down at her and lifts her up to the barstool next to him.  “Well far be it from me to tell Monkey D. Lucy what to do.”  He sends Lucy a wink.  “In fact, far be it from anyone.”

Lucy is shocked silent, so she just stares.

Lucy has never met her father.  Gramps didn’t answer her when she asked about him.  And even though she loves Gramps, and knows Gramps loves her, he’s gone too much to effectively act as a parent.

Shanks is already the steadiest father-figure in her life by the time she flings her arms around his waist.

Shanks is leaving.  Shanks is the only person who Lucy really, truly believes cares for her, and he’s leaving.  For good this time.

In a way she’d be almost disappointed if he wasn’t—she likes the idea that he’ll be exploring and adventuring—but…

“Take me with you, Shanks!”

She’s crying, she can’t help it—Shanks is…Shanks is Shanks.

The man’s eyes are warm with cheer, but Lucy knows, on some level, that he’s not going to suddenly say she can come.  “Oh come now, Lucy.  We’ve talked about this!  You can be a pirate when you can drink like a pirate.”

Lucy bites her lip trying to keep the tears at bay.  Shanks wears a long dark coat that hides his missing arm but she can still tell it’s not there.

And he lost it for her.

She sniffs.  “Is…is this about your arm?  And…the fruit?”

Shanks takes a step toward her, places a large calloused hand on her head.  “Not at all, Lu-chan.”

Lucy’s blubbering now, and she’s embarrassed but mostly sad.  “I—are you sure?”

Shanks ruffles her hair.  “Hm.  Pretty sure.”  He squints at her.  “Hey, stop crying now.  Pirates don’t cry, you know.”

“Shut up!  You cried yesterday!  Over beer!”

Shanks chuckles, and then Lucy is laughing too, but then she remembers they’ll probably never laugh like this again, or at least not for a long time, and before she knows what she’s doing she has her arms wrapped around Shanks’ waist and she’s getting his shirt wet.  “I—I’ll miss you, Shanks!”

Shanks just sighs, and rubs her back.  “I bet you will.”  His smile grows a bit sharper.  “But you know, Lu-chan, that’s the life of a pirate.  You say goodbye to everyone except your nakama.”

Lucy steps back, and she’s serious when she says, “I want to be a pirate.”

Shank’s smile turns into a smirk.  “Like you can be a pirate, crybaby.”

Lucy scowls and shoves him away.  “I’m gonna be Queen of the Pirates!”

Shanks coughs.  “I—what?”

“I’m going to be Pirate Queen!  And my crew will be way cooler than yours!”

Shanks stares at her.  Lucy wonders if she said anything bad.

There’s something odd in his eyes when he asks, “…why?”

Lucy glares up at him, determined, angry that he’s mocking her.  “Because the Pirate Queen is free!”

Shanks—and his whole crew, but mostly Shanks—love telling stories about the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger.  Lucy has been fascinated by the man ever since Shanks started telling her about him, and to a girl furiously trying to escape the bonds and restrictions placed around her, the title of “freest person alive” sounds pretty tempting.

Plus…she wants Shanks to look at her with the same respect she feels for him.

Shanks still hasn’t said anything though, so maybe she said something wrong?

“You got a problem with that?!”

Lucy isn’t sure she cares if he thinks she shouldn’t be Pirate Queen.  She’s going to be anyway, so there.

“…Don’t you mean King?”

Lucy frowns at Shanks, who’s fiddling with his hat.  “Baka.  I’m a girl.  Girls are Queens, not Kings.”

Shanks snorts a laugh.  “That doesn’t matter.  Not to the One Piece.”  Shanks flips his straw hat off of his head.  “Pirate King is a title.  It doesn’t matter who claims it.”

Lucy glares.  This all seems pretty ridiculous anyway.  “Fine then!  I’ll be Pirate King!  Just you watch!”

Something warm and dry settles on Lucy’s head.  She looks up, and sees the curved brim of Shanks’ straw hat.

“Now that’s a loan, you hear?” Shanks tells her.  “I’m expecting you to give it back once you’re Pirate King.”

Lucy takes the hat off of her head and stares with reverence.  “I will!”

And to her surprise, Shanks draws her in for one more one-armed hug.  Lucy is careful of his hat, because she won’t break it so soon after receiving it, or ever, but she leans in eagerly for the hug.

“Come see me when you’re a great pirate, okay, Lucy?  I want that hat back.”

Lucy nods into his vest, still shedding tears, and lets go.

It’s the last time she hugs Shanks for a long, long time.

“Makino?”

“Hmm, Lucy?”

“Where’re my mommy and daddy?”

Lucy watches Makino fumble the glass in her hand, reads the shock in her eyes, and feels guilty.  Maybe she wasn’t supposed to ask about that…?

It’s been six months since Shanks left for good and Lucy…well, Lucy is lonely.

Lucy’s always been good at making friends, but it seems like she’s only really good at making friends with people older than her.  Kids her age don’t like her much, and when they find out she can stretch they start calling her weird names.  Lucy doesn’t hit them because she’s trying to be like Shanks, but it’s hard.  Especially when she’s alone all the time.

She misses Shanks and his crew.  She’s taken to wearing his hat all the time now, just to remember she really does have friends.  Friends who think she’ll be Pirate King!

“I…I’m not sure, Lucy.  Perhaps you can ask your grandfather next time he’s here?”

Lucy frowns down at her hands.  “When’s Gramps coming next?”

“I’m…not sure, Lucy.”

Lucy shoves her dinner away.  Ever since she ate the Gum Gum Fruit, she’s been really hungry, all the time.  Today she just…doesn’t feel like eating.

Loneliness, Lucy decides, is a bad feeling.  She doesn’t like it.  Being a pirate is going to be hard, if it means leaving people all the time.

But, she thinks, and the thought makes her smile, Shanks said she never has to say goodbye to her crew!  They will follow her on all her adventures, and they will be great friends and they’ll be a way better crew than Shanks’s crew, because they’ll be hers.  And she’ll make sure none of them are ever lonely. 

They’ll be nakama.  And she’ll never leave any of them alone.  Ever.

Maybe in return they’ll stay with her as well.

People keep leaving Lucy.

She’s not sure why that is.

First her parents.  Then Gramps, who occasionally shows up but not regularly enough to make Lucy feel secure.  Shanks came, shook up her entire life, and left.  Then Sabo…well, he didn’t leave willingly.  And then, a year ago, Ace.

The only person in her life who’s always been constantly, persistently, tirelessly there for her is Makino.  Lucy loves Makino with a rare sort of ferocity, despite their frequent disagreements over Lucy’s less-than-ladylike behavior.

Lucy isn’t mad at Ace for leaving—they agreed a long time ago that they would set out on their respective seventeenth birthdays to pursue their dreams—but she does miss him.  It’s been…a long, somewhat painful year without him.  She hopes he’s happy.  That he’s doing well.

Maybe that he misses her a little.

Not enough to come home!  Just enough that he thinks about her sometimes.

She just…doesn’t want Ace to forget about her.

Lucy is fifteen and strolling through Foosha village on an errand for Dadan, when she first notices.

For a while she can’t figure out why all her senses are itching at her.  She’s just minding her own business.  The shopkeeper who sells the tar Dadan needs is friendly enough.  Lucy looks around, and then she sees a man in his forties staring at her.

Or, more accurately, panning slowly up and down her legs.

For a second Lucy doesn’t know what he’s looking at, or what the weird expression on his face means.

Then he licks his lips and Lucy realizes that he’s—he’s ogling her, fantasizing about something to do with her.  Lucy sends a punch flying in his direction before she even registers winding up for one.

Retroactively, disgust fills her, and she quickly makes her way out of Foosha so she can process what just happened.

That man…that man was in his forties.  Lucy is fifteen!  Lucy isn’t particularly experienced in these things but that…that makes her feel weird.  Uncomfortable.  Used.

What would have happened if Lucy hadn’t punched him?  Would he have tried propositioning her?  Would he have…expected her to be interested in him?  Why would she be interested in him?  He was so much older!  Shouldn’t he be pursuing women his own age?

After a few minutes, Lucy calms down.  Or at least, she calms down enough to carry the tar back to Dadan.

It was probably a one-time thing, Lucy reasons.  After all, it isn’t like there are that many crusty men in Foosha who would want to…do that, with Lucy.

It was not a one-time thing.

Apparently, one day she somehow tipped the scale between child and adult in terms of physicality.  The more lecherous men on the island took this as a carte blanche to start propositioning her, calling out to her in the street, and generally trying to make Lucy feel about as disrespected as possible.  Lucy responds by slamming heads through walls, dunking people in water troughs, and generally causing mayhem until she realizes that some of them get off on her reaction.

Lucy stops reacting after that, even though it makes her bite through her own lips, on occasion.

Lucy doesn’t see what all the fuss is about.  She lives in a forest, so she dresses accordingly—in denim shorts that are easy to fight in, and a red shirt she ties under her bust so it doesn’t catch and rip on wayward trees.  She’s got such small breasts that she only sometimes wears a bra, and she doesn’t have a very round behind, like she’s heard men in Makino’s bar rave about.  She’s slender in frame, a muscular, toned body, and short-cropped hair that terminates around her mouth.  Lucy really can’t understand why she’s suddenly drawing so much attention.  Especially since these are the same people who laugh whenever she declares herself the future Pirate King.

Makino begs her, tearfully, to wear something, anything more conservative.  “No one shows that much skin here!”  She cries.  “Please, Lucy, you’ll get hurt.”

“I’m not gonna change for them,” Lucy sniffs, disgusted.  “They win if I do that.  They should stop looking at me like they do.  They’re the ones in the wrong, not me.”

For the first time in her life, Makino grabs Lucy by the shoulders and shakes her.

It’s the most violent thing Lucy has ever seen Makino do, and even though it’s downright gentle compared to the beatings Lucy and Ace gave each other, it shocks Lucy to her core.

Makino is crying, trembling, and she gets right in Lucy’s face.  “Please.  Please.”  She whispers.  “I don’t want to change you.  I don’t want anyone to change you.  And you’re right, they’re wrong, but some things can’t be changed, even though they’re wrong.  And that’s why…”  She sniffs.  “That’s why I’m begging you, Lucy, please, please don’t tempt them into doing something that might change you.  Please.”

“Makino…” Lucy whispers.  For the first time, Lucy wonders why Makino chose to stay single, why she never seems interested in pursuing a relationship or any sort of marriage proposal.  Lucy knows Makino has had offers.  Lucy always assumed she never liked the men associated—maybe that she didn’t like men at all.

But now a different conclusion is drawing itself in Lucy’s brain, and fury stokes in her chest.

“I’m sorry Makino, I won’t do what you’re asking.”

Makino’s expression fractures, and Lucy feels fury consume her.  Who would dare?  Who would do that to anyone, sure, but especially to such a kind person as Makino?

The answer of course, is a someone who didn’t think of Makino as a person at all.

“Lucy—!”

“—I understand what you’re saying,” Lucy tells her seriously.  Makino’s eyes widen in pain.  “And I’d rather someone came after me than anyone else, because Makino?”  The bartender who acted as Lucy’s mother-figure and partial older-sister out of the kindness of her heart, even when Lucy was being stubborn and unreasonable, stares back at her, eyes wide.  “I would make them pay.”

Makino seems frozen for a long moment, studying Lucy, and then tears fall fresh down her cheeks.  “Promise me,” she breathes.  Lucy waits.  “Promise me you won’t get hurt like that.”

Lucy nods, because if there’s one thing Lucy can do and do well, it’s fight.  “I promise.”

Makino cries, and Lucy hugs her until she stops.

It takes a while.

It’s not long after Lucy’s talk with Makino that one man tries something.

Lucy makes an effort not to remember details about him.  He shouldn’t hold that much sway over her.  He shouldn’t have even one of her brain-cells to himself.

He doesn’t get very far—just grabs Lucy’s shoulder—but he whispers something in her ear that makes his intentions perfectly clear.

Lucy thinks of Makino, of what would happen if another girl, a girl whose older brother hadn’t sparred with her every day of their childhoods with no holds barred, and Lucy makes an example of him.

The catcalls and stares mostly cease after that, and when Lucy defends another girl one night, she gets a truly depressing number of thank-you cards on her next trip into Foosha.  Lucy decides to start teaching all the women in town how to throw a punch, and no one is ballsy enough to disagree with her choices.

When Lucy sets out to sea on her seventeenth birthday, it’s like breathing for the first time.

Oh, she thinks, so this is freedom.

And as waves break against the hull of her tiny boat and the wind pulls at Shanks' hat, all Lucy can do is breathe it in, wild grin on her face and think I want more.

Chapter Text

Lucy is good at reading people.  It’s just a fact.  She’s usually able to tell, almost immediately, if someone is decent or not.  Makino always tried to stop her from making snap judgments, but mostly Lucy just waits for the person in question to confirm or deny her suspicions, and then goes from there.  She relies on it, and when she sets out to sea she plans on using her abilities to figure out who she wants on her crew, if she plans at all.

It takes a week, a whirlpool, a cowardly, enslaved cabin boy, and a truly stupid Marine to find her first nakama.  Lucy almost knows he’ll be hers before the name is fully out of Coby’s mouth.

Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro.  It’s a good name.

She finds him tied up to a post, looking weary and somewhat burnt, and watches him effectively protect a child even while tied up, dehydrated, exhausted, crucified.

Lucy wants him on her ship.

She climbs over the fence to talk to him, and he looks up with heavy grey eyes.

Lucy likes strong people.  She always has.

Zoro is strong.

Here he is, tied in an awkward and humiliating position to a post, smelling like he hasn’t changed or bathed in a month, and he still seems like a challenge.

Lucy has never wanted anything so badly as she wants Zoro to be her nakama.

He agrees in the end.  She has to agree to let him kill her if she gets in the way of his dreams, but he comes with her.  And it doesn’t matter anyway—Lucy would sooner give up her own dream than trample on her nakama’s.

Once Zoro is clean and fed and not under threat of imminent death, Lucy studies him.

He wears cheap, simple clothing—the sort of things he could pick up anywhere.  It’s nondescript and easy to move in.  Underneath the clothes, he is clearly well-built—the hard, bulging lines of his muscles threaten the integrity of his shirt in places, which is honestly kind of impressive.  He has a bandana tied around his left bicep, and she saw him use it back at the Marine base.  Lucy wonders if it’s some kind of meditation or focusing technique.

Zoro’s swords are probably the most interesting thing about his attire.  One is clearly of better quality than the other two, although Lucy realizes on the first day that Zoro is meticulous in his care for all of them.  She doesn’t ask about their history, or his history, but she guesses he’s a properly trained swordsman.  Lucy knows there are some kingdoms that still practice traditional blade-work north of Goa.  She wonders if that’s where he comes from.

Lucy knows better than to ask.

Zoro wears three earrings on his left ear.  She teases him about it, saying he must have been planning to go into piracy all along if he has such a pirate-y look to him.  Lucy quickly discovers that making Zoro blush is one of the best things in the world, and it’s so easy.

Zoro has grey eyes that change with the light and his mood.  Sometimes, if he’s angry or irritated, they look like dark steel.  And, if Lucy has managed to make him laugh and the sun hits him just right, his eyes are almost silver, like his pretty white sword.

He has frown lines in his face, which is weird because he can’t be much older than her.  He must not smile enough.

Before the sun sets on their first day together, Lucy resolves to change that.

Lucy really likes making Zoro laugh.

It does not take Zoro more than a day to realize, consciously, that Monkey D. Lucy is more like him than anyone else he’s ever met.  There are things she just gets, things that others don’t understand and which Zoro does not have the words to explain.  Things like honor, dreams, survival, and what they all mean.  He doesn’t have to explain anything because she carries the same weights in her own heart.

“You seem pretty obsessed with being Pirate King.  Any particular reason?”  Because even Zoro didn’t go on about becoming the world’s best to others all the time, and definitely not the way Lucy did.  Granted, Lucy is much chattier than he is in general, so that might have something to do with it.

“No, no reason,” she says easily, Lucy’s dark eyes focused gleefully on the horizon, her shoulders tense with anticipation for the unknown.  “I just made a promise to someone.  This hat knows it all.”  Her right hand came to rest on the top of the hat, pressing it down into her windblown hair.

Zoro smirks, pleasantly surprised.  His captain knew the weight of oaths as well.  When he catches and returns her hat, he can’t help but feel they have an understanding—one unlike anything else he’s ever experienced before.

He doesn’t tell her about Kuina, although he could have.  It’s frankly remarkable that he thinks he might want to tell her, someday far in the future.

It almost scares him, how easy it is to trust this girl, but he’s too curious to be wary.

Zoro is so similar to her in so many ways it almost scares her.

Almost, being the operative word there.  Mostly it just makes her ecstatic.

He’s quieter than her—much quieter—but most of the time she barely even needs to explain half a concept before he’s caught on to what she’s saying.  Sometimes it’s just one word.  Then he nods in agreement and it’s like, like…

It’s like understanding.

What was readily apparent in their tussle with Axe-Hand Morgan and which became even more apparent during their fight with Buggy and his crew, is that his captain is ridiculously strong, even if she doesn’t look it.  She maybe comes up to his bicep in height, and she’s so thin she looks like Zoro could break her in half, but he’s seen her catch swords in her teeth and spit metal shards out again, and he’s seen her fly, and concuss men four times her weight with stone walls.

That doesn’t mean he has to like how the stupid acrobat looks at her though.  Zoro may have a hole in his side, but that doesn’t mean he’ll let anyone get away with looking at his captain like she’s dinner.

Lucy either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, but she is his captain, not a chew toy for perverted men to fantasize about.

Worse, Cabaji is significantly older than them.  Early thirties, minimum.  Fucking pedophile, honestly.

Zoro looks angry at Cabaji, for whatever reason, like the acrobat personally offended him.  Lucy isn’t particularly fond of him either—he was staring with intent at Lucy a few seconds ago—but she’s not sure why that would set Zoro off.  She’s never met a man who was angered by that behavior—at least, not one angry enough to do something about it.  Especially not in Foosha.

It’s far more likely, Lucy decides, that Zoro simply decided Cabaji offended his swordsmans’ honor, or something.  Which, as far as Lucy is concerned, is more than a worthy cause.  If it bothers Zoro it has to be worthwhile.

Lucy stops Buggy from interfering in her swordsman’s duel, because how dare he try and belittle Zoro’s dream like that?  How dare Buggy expect her, Zoro’s Captain, to just let him?

It pisses her off, and that’s even before the bastard rips Shanks’ hat.

Weirdly, no one but Zoro seems to realize that his captain isn’t stupid.  She just likes screwing with people.

Nami, who is probably a good addition to the crew on merit of her navigation skills alone despite her general lack of loyalty, doesn’t seem to get it.  Sure, neither Zoro nor Lucy are anywhere near as smart as Nami, but Nami is also smarter than just about anyone Zoro has ever met.  When she starts rambling about wind patterns and current temperature, the word ‘genius’ comes to mind.  Just as usefully, Nami has no scruples about doing what it takes to survive, and in that they all have a shared note of history. 

Anyway, Lucy isn’t stupid.  She just really, really enjoys messing with people, so her antics become more and more dramatic as time goes on.  Every time it happens, Zoro laughs and laughs and doesn’t stop until his sides ache.  Lucy just understands people too well, and knows exactly how to push their buttons.  Due to low impulse control, she can’t seem to resist doing so to just about everyone she meets, which means they leave a lot of pissed off or generally fond people in their wake.  That is strange, but it’s also kind of fitting.  Lucy is the kind of person people either love or hate.  There isn’t really an in between with her, which is appropriate for someone so wholly dedicated to her cause as Lucy.

Either way, every time she starts screwing with people, Zoro starts laughing uncontrollably.  He probably laughs more in their first month together than he did in his entire life to that point.  For some reason he just finds Lucy intentionally misleading and or irritating people highly entertaining, especially since half the time they end up loving her anyway.

Lucy seems to realize that he finds her amusing, that he doesn’t laugh like this for everyone, and every time he settles down, she looks at him with a satisfied gleam in her eye.

Sometimes she takes her idiocy a bit far, and that is when Zoro calls her out on it.  She usually straightens up soon after, saving her antics for more appropriate targets or times.

Occasionally, especially when sailing with nothing much to do, Lucy turns her not-undaunting attentions to him.  He gets the feeling she is trying to find his trigger, trying to see what will set him off.  For whatever reason, maybe because he knows she is doing it to mess with him, or maybe because he doesn’t mind being the focus of her near-manic energy when there is nothing to do on the sea, she just doesn’t irritate him the same way she seems to get to others.  He finds it more amusing than anything, which she seems to realize, and soon turns such attentions into various games where she tries to out-stubborn him.  Those don’t have a clear winner, but he still finds it kind of entertaining.

Eventually she starts “falling” into the water a few times a day, which invariably results in Zoro diving in after her.  This does annoy him, but mostly because wet clothes are uncomfortable and the saltwater makes them dry weird.  Also, risking her life for the sake of personal entertainment is a bit much, even by their standards, so yeah, the constant dunking does irritate him a bit.  Thankfully, she quickly grows bored of being rescued and ceases the behavior unless she doesn’t think she can get Zoro’s attention otherwise.

Nami is constantly rolling her eyes at the two of them and muttering, especially when Lucy is being particularly rambunctious.  Zoro isn’t exactly sure what that as about.  Probably not important.

Lucy leaves five-hundred thousand berries on the dock of a town she saved.  They’re going to be the poorest pirates in history, but any lingering hesitation about following this girl into the unknown of their futures and dreams evaporates completely, even as Nami threatens to drown her.

Lucy loves to screw with people.  This has always been a fact, and Lucy thinks it’s probably unlikely to change at any point in the future.  Most of the time people are easy to piss off, and Lucy often made a game of it growing up.

She still makes a game out of it, if she’s being honest.

Nami, she finds, is especially easy to irritate.

Lucy likes her, knows Nami’s special, but she’s so tense sometimes that Lucy just can’t help but press her buttons.

Plus, Nami’s lectures remind her a little of Makino.  Although Nami is much more violent than her older-sister/mother-figure ever was.

Also a fact:  Lucy is sometimes deliberately obtuse, and this is for a variety of reasons.  Sometimes it’s a gag.  Sometimes it’s because she knows people will tell idiots things they wouldn’t tell others.  Sometimes it’s because children are less threatened by stupid adults than smart ones.  Sometimes it’s just because she feels like messing with people.

Zoro figures out almost immediately that she’s playing.

And he thinks it’s funny.

Lucy has tried—oh Lord has she tried—to set Zoro off like she does Nami.  It doesn’t work.

Oh sure, Zoro will snap at her, tell her she’s being annoying, tell her to settle down, but he doesn’t lose it completely like Nami does, and his buttons take a lot more effort to push.

No one has ever gotten her so completely like this.

Lucy really, really likes making Zoro laugh.

Eventually the three of them—Lucy, Zoro, and Nami—stop in a small village not far from Orange Town.  Nami claims there’s going to be a storm tonight, and it’s better to hunker down to get supplies and wait it out than to try and sail through it.

Lucy asked Nami to be her navigator for a reason—even she can admit she and Zoro are hopeless with the subject—so they head for the harbor.

(There’s also that nagging feeling in the back of Lucy’s mind, the one that says Nami needs her, even if she doesn’t think so.  Lucy can tell Nami is special, and she would want her on the crew regardless, but that gut feeling won’t let Lucy let Nami walk away.)

Zoro, probably a bit tired of her and Nami’s squabbling, immediately heads to the nearest bar.  Lucy would follow him, but it’s a bit early for her to drink and she wants to explore the town a little first.  Nami walks with her, muttering something about keeping the property damage to a minimum.

Lucy finds that a bit unfair—Buggy did most of the property damage in their fight!—but Lucy also wants to get to know her navigator a little better, so she lets it slide.

Lucy learns that Nami is an excellent negotiator—she haggles three different vendors down to under a third of their initial asking price, and grabs some cartography supplies for less than it would cost Lucy to replace her shoes.  Lucy instantly decides Nami is going to handle the financials, because honestly, she and Zoro would probably spend it all on food and sake.

Nami is also particular, and almost obsessively checks and rechecks their funds after each purchase.  Lucy compliments Nami on her math skills, and Nami preens a little at the compliment, which is how Lucy learns that Nami mostly educated herself—on everything, including navigation and cartography.  From that Lucy extrapolates that Nami is actually a capital-g Genius, and she’s a luckier find than she realized.  Lucy tells Nami she’s glad she’s on her crew, and Nami seems flustered for a moment before regaining her bearings.

“So is it really just you and Zoro?”

Lucy grins, and hops up on the curb of the street to balance on it.  She used to do this with logs in the forest back home. “And now you!”

Nami’s forehead scrunches.  “Is it going to be awkward, having me around?”

What?  Lucy didn’t mean to make Nami feel unwelcome.  “No, of course not.  You’re our nakama too!”

Nami raises an eyebrow.  “I…oh.”  Her expression is suddenly mirthful.  “Oh.”

Lucy hops off of the curb, bewildered.  “…what?”

Nami hitches her purse more securely over her shoulder.  “You and Zoro aren’t together then?”

Lucy cocks her head to the side, utterly confused.  “What do you mean?”

“You aren’t…” Nami makes a vague hand gesture that could either be encouraging or referring to the world at large.  “together.”

Lucy blinks.  “Oh.”  She jumps back, surprised, looking at Nami with profound confusion.  “Oh!  No, we’re not.”  Lucy shifts uncomfortably.  “What, uh…made you think that?”

Nami’s grin turns almost predatory.  “Oh, nothing, I guess.  So you wouldn’t mind if I…?”

Something seizes in Lucy’s belly, hot and uncomfortable.  Yes, she would mind, she wants to say, but she can’t because there’s no reason for her to mind.  Lucy doesn’t own Zoro any more than she owns Goa.  She’s only known him for a month or so.  She’s got no claim to him, and she won’t tell either of her nakama what to do with their feelings, so why does the thought make her so uncomfortable?

Nami bumps her shoulder.  “Hey, relax, I’m just kidding.”  Lucy blinks up at her, feeling more than a little out of her depth.  “Zoro’s not my type.  Too poor, for one thing.  Not suave enough, for another.”

Lucy relaxes—if there are two things Zoro is not, it is rich and suave—but she still feels a bit off-kilter.  “Oh.”  Usually she’s more verbose than this.

Nami looks vaguely guilty.  “Wow, you really had no clue, did you?”

Lucy glances at her, and tilts her chin so she can make eye contact under the brim of the hat.  “No clue about what?”

Nami stops in the street, and gives her a scrutinizing look.  Lucy’s not sure what she’s looking for, so she just meets Nami’s gaze with her own bewildered one.

“…Unbelievable,” Nami mutters.  And then, for some reason that Lucy doesn’t catch, she laughs until she cries.

Chapter Text

There is an unspoken rule among them—no one asks about the past.  Zoro’s query about Lucy’s dream is the closest either of them ever get to asking about each other’s history, and both Lucy and Zoro know better than to ask Nami about her own.  One does not become a thief who steals from pirates by choice or lucky happenstance.

Usopp, who Zoro actually likes even if he is a bit of a coward and a bit of a liar, has no such scruples, and almost immediately starts asking the rest of them where they came from and what their stories are.  Usopp definitely didn’t suffer the easiest of childhoods—Zoro knows what it is to be an orphan—but he clearly hasn’t endured the same kind of hardships as the rest of them.  There’s an edge about a person who has suffered that could be recognized by others who have experienced similar things, or maybe just have darkness in them, and such people know better than to dredge up old memories.  Usopp is messed up enough to get along with them well, but not quite enough to recognize the unwritten boundaries that trauma etches around people.

Nami is immediately defensive, but aboard the new ship it isn’t like she can threaten to take her little boat and sail away.  Luckily, Lucy shuts Usopp down before it becomes an issue.

“Doesn’t matter much, does it?  The past is the past, and we’re going forward!  I’m going to be the Pirate King!”

Usopp seems to get the message—he’s clever, and his questions were born out of friendliness and curiosity, not any kind of mal intent.  The conversation moves along easily and thirty seconds later Lucy pesters Nami into a loud, long-winded lecture about propriety or something, which, according to the navigator, Lucy is missing on a scale equivalent to a weird social birth-defect.

Zoro knows better than to ask, knew he might be pushing it when he asked about Lucy’s dream, but suddenly he wants to know everything about her.  He wants to know where she was raised, what her home life was like, who loved her and who she loved, who shaped her into who she is.

He doesn’t ask—knows better—but oddly enough, he wants to.  He thinks maybe, one night if they are both awake and keeping watch, he could tell her about Kuina, and maybe in return he would get to hear about her own history, the person to whom she swore her own oath.

Then he shakes himself.  Lucy is right—the past is past.  She is going to become the Pirate King, he is going to be the World’s Greatest Swordsman, and that is all they really need to know.

In Syrup Village Lucy acquires three things:  a ship, a nakama, and the realization that she frets.

Usopp is great—all her childish antics Nami and Zoro are too mature or uptight to indulge in are fully validated by Usopp.  He tells amazing stories, he’s a liar that uses his incredible skill for good, he’s braver than he thinks, he’s great with a slingshot, and he’s innocent in a way no one else aboard the Merry is.

Plus, he’s connected to Shanks and his crew.  No way Lucy was going to pass on bringing him along.  He might be terrified of everything, but Lucy can tell he’s special.

The Going Merry is a great ship—it’s sturdy, well-built, and a good size for the crew she has planned, which is probably small by most people’s standards.  But now she’s just missing a cook, a doctor, and a musician, and the Merry has more than enough room for them, plus a few more strays if she acquires them.

Plus, the Merry is a gift from a friend.  Lucy couldn’t be more appreciative.

As for the third revelation, well.  That comes as a bit of a shock.

Most people would probably accuse Lucy of being selfish or careless before saying she frets.  Lucy would have agreed with them until Syrup Village, and Zoro.

Zoro is hurt and it’s making her itch inside.

He didn’t even get hurt badly.  Yeah, the scratches are long and probably painful, but they weren’t very deep.  Certainly not as bad as his injuries from Buggy and Cabaji a month ago, which are now fully healed thanks to a meditative healing technique Zoro learned from his sensei, and lots of sleep.

Lucy’s just noticed, though, that Zoro seems to get hurt a lot.  And because he goes against dangerous opponents who always have sharp objects, he seems to come out of most fights against high-caliber enemies looking like someone tried to grate him.

It makes something inside Lucy demand to check him over after every fight, make sure he’s really okay.

She restrains herself though.  Zoro is strong, stronger than anyone she’s ever met aside from maybe Ace and Shanks and Gramps, and if he says he’s fine, he is.  She believes that.  And it’s not like she’s going to tell him to stop going after the people with the swords, because then he would have to stop pursuing his dream of being the World’s Greatest Swordsman.

Even if Lucy thought he would listen to her, she wouldn’t ask that of him.  She would never ask her nakama to give up their dreams.

Lucy sits beneath the figurehead, eyes trained on the mast of the ship rather than the horizon.  She can hear the rhythmic clink of weights as Zoro moves through the paces of his training regimen.  It’s been two days since Syrup Village, and he’s already claimed the aft deck as his weight room, which Lucy finds amusing.

A pair of mud-colored boots clomp their way to her position on the deck, and Lucy finds herself staring up at a long nose and dark, curly hair.

She grins and bounces to her feet, using a complicated move that requires the incredible flexibility of her rubber body.  “Usopp!”

The boy looks down at her cheerfully, but there’s a hesitation in his eyes.  Lucy can tell he’s still vaguely surprised they want him here at all.

Well he’ll grow out of that.  It’s not like Lucy’s any good at lying.

“Lucy!”  Usopp greets.  “I had an idea for a new slingshot ball!”

Lucy grins at him, because she’s quickly discovered that Usopp is good at a great many random things that are ridiculously useful, including chemistry and physics.  Both of those subjects go waaaayy over Lucy’s head but even she can tell Usopp is uncommonly gifted at all forms of invention.  “Ooooh, that’s great!  What does it do?”

Usopp opens his mouth to explain, but there’s a loud crash from the other side of the ship that immediately arrests their attention.

Lucy looks for Nami first, sees her coming out of their shared cabin, and then looks for Zoro.

She doesn’t see him.

“Zoro!” she yelps, and she’s halfway down the stairs when there’s a groan and Zoro emerges from under the ridiculous weights he uses.

“I’m fine,” he grunts, looking disgruntled.  He stands, brushes himself off, and immediately picks up the weights again.

Oh.  No wonder they heard a loud crash—he’s practicing his katas with high-weight-low-rep combos.  The weights will probably fall again before the day is out, because he’s supposed to practice those until the point of muscle failure.

Hopefully he won’t be under them next time.

Lucy resolves to keep an eye out, just in case.  The thought eases a knot of tension Lucy didn’t even realize existed.

“Hey, Lucy, Zoro is kind of scary, isn’t he?”

Lucy steps back to the aft-deck, and leans back on the figurehead.  She can talk with Usopp and watch Zoro that way without seeming like she’s watching Zoro.

She just…wants to be able to react, if something goes wrong.  She won’t interfere otherwise though.

“Scary?” Lucy asks, because no, she doesn’t think so.  Zoro is one of the least scary people she’s ever met.  Strong, absolutely, but not scary.  “Not at all.”

Zoro wouldn’t beat a child for hours with a spiked glove.  He’d probably cut off his own hand first.

Usopp grumbles.  “Well of course you don’t…”

Lucy doesn’t know what Usopp means by that.  “Zoro’s nakama.  Nakama aren’t scary.”

Usopp doesn’t say anything to that.

On his next rep, Zoro sets the weights down and wipes his forehead with a towel.  He then locks eyes with Lucy, and raises an eyebrow.

Huh.  So he knows she’s watching.  Well, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing that he knows.  She waves, grinning cheerfully, and Zoro rolls his eyes before taking a long swig of his canteen.

Lucy takes that as permission to fret from a distance, and she relaxes against the figurehead, listening to a story Usopp probably thought up three seconds ago, but it’s so rich and imaginative that Lucy is willing to believe him for a while.

She keeps an eye on Zoro though—careful and benign and maybe a little protective.  She just—she loves her nakama.  It’s been two days and she already loves Usopp.  She knows they’re all strong and capable in their own ways, and Lucy would never, ever get in the way of their dreams while they help her achieve hers, but she can’t help but want to keep them safe.

Lucy thinks about the promise she made as a lonely seven-year-old, just a little girl who already loved this crew fiercely.  She thinks about it and hopes her crew understands—she’ll always be there to catch them if they find their limits aren’t enough.

I promised you would never be alone.  Ever.

Meeting the pervy cook is a wholly terrible experience that Zoro never wants to think about again.

Sanji is a womanizer, and he has an immediate appreciation for both Lucy and Nami.  The redhead can take care of herself like no one Zoro has ever seen, so he doesn’t worry about her, but Lucy…

Zoro knows she isn’t as naïve as she sometimes portrays herself.  He knows she must be able to take care of herself pretty well, and knows she’s more than strong enough to beat up anyone who comes her way.  But something dark and twisted and possessive springs up in his chest when he sees the blonde man fawn over his captain.  He has to restrain himself from stabbing Sanji with a fork when his hand brushes the small of Lucy’s back in a gentlemanly gesture to guide her to the table.

Sanji is perfectly respectful, if a bit over-the-top in his adoration, and frankly seems more interested in Nami anyway.  But something in Zoro revolts at the way he casually refers to Lucy as “my Lucy-chan,” and the way he gushes about her “natural, windswept beauty.”

Yeah, she’s pretty, Zoro thinks, but she’s not yours.

Which, of course, is how he realizes that he finds his captain attractive, which.

Well, fuck.

It isn’t like he hadn’t realized it before.  Objectively, Lucy is pretty.  She doesn’t have much in the way of a figure, but she is slender and there is a power to her movements and even grace, in her better moments.  She has a beautiful face, too, with a delicate, bone structure.  She always has an air of brash confidence, and a carefree affect that glows from her tan, sun-kissed skin, and her light freckles are similarly endearing.

Zoro is attracted to girls.  He noticed she is attractive.

The thing is, he’s never been so personally affected by it.  He hasn’t ever felt so possessive before, to the point where the sight of another man expressing interest makes him want to kill things.  Yeah, he was angry at Cabaji, but mostly because that man intended to attack her, hurt her…Sanji is only flirting.

That is more than enough to irritate Zoro, but this feeling?  This sick anger that makes him feel more unstable than he has been in…years? This is more than that.

He doesn’t care at all that the cook is flirting with Nami.

The only thing that keeps Zoro seated at the table and not throwing punches is Lucy’s reaction.  She seems completely bewildered by Sanji’s behavior, to the point where she’s almost defensive.  The stupid cook proves himself not useless, and tones his behavior down a little in response.  Still affectionate and dramatic, but not quite so worshipful.  It pisses Zoro off, but any action on the swordsman’s part would be an overreaction, at this point.

Nami and Usopp, both more observant than he likes, give him smug and confused looks, respectively.  Zoro isn’t in the mood to figure either one out.

Still, when he finds out that Lucy wants to bring the love-cook with them, and Usopp gives him an absolutely golden opportunity to hit the cook, it takes all of Zoro’s willpower to restrain himself.  Lucy probably already considers Sanji nakama, and would be upset if Zoro slices him in half like he wants to.

He really, really wants to.

If truth be told, Sanji’s exuberant fawning almost makes Lucy write off her instincts entirely and pass him by.

Thank goodness she trusts her instincts too much to do that.

Sanji, from the moment they meet, insists on “spoiling her.”  Lucy has never been spoiled.  She’s heard the term used in much more inappropriate contexts than she thinks Sanji intends, but it makes her more cautious regardless.  He calls her by terms of endearments such as “darling,” “lovely,” “angel.”  He keeps offering to cook her more and more extravagant things, soon outpacing Lucy’s culinary knowledge, and honestly Lucy is so far out of her depth with this that it’s not even funny.

No one ever behaved like this back home, especially not to Lucy.  Is he…is he flirting with her, or making fun of her?  Is this some weird form of harassment?  Lucy genuinely can’t tell, and it’s making her feel constantly wrong-footed.

He touches her easily, which is kinda new.  She’s a tactile person herself, but she usually initiates it.  She and Zoro have been pretty touchy lately—she’s not sure how that started but oh well—and the only other guys who touch her are Ace and Usopp when wrestling or hugging.  Sanji treats her like glass, and guides her gently from the small of her back.  She’s tense around him because she just—she doesn’t have any clue what’s going on, and she’s never been treated like anything delicate before and she’s pretty sure she doesn’t like it.

She’s so uncomfortable with his behavior that she nearly writes him off again, but then Lucy watches Sanji feed a starving pirate, and she knows he’s special.

Sanji is going to be her crew’s cook, whether he knows it or not.

Knowing that, Lucy introduces him to her crew.  Usopp seems indifferent to the idea of new nakama but excited about real food.  Nami seems more amused at Sanji’s antics than anything, and since Lucy has seen Nami smack around men who aren’t acting appropriately, that actually relaxes Lucy toward Sanji’s weird behavior, and Zoro…

Zoro looks pissed.  Lucy’s not sure why, but Zoro has that look he gets sometimes when he just wants to stab things, and he can’t seem to stop glaring at Sanji.

Lucy doesn’t make any show that she noticed, and just hopes he gets over it soon.  She can’t have her nakama at odds, after all.

“Mihawk is here?”

Lucy has never heard Zoro like this before, never seen him so desperate and full of near-manic energy.

“Mihawk?”  Lucy asks, because she’s still not sure what’s going on.

“The best swordsman in the world,” Zoro replies breathlessly.  His eyes are skittering across the wreckage of ships one swing of that man’s sword has wrought.  Lucy spots the ship at the same time he does, and Zoro turns to her, eyes electric and wild.  “I have to challenge him.”

This couldn’t come at a worse possible time.  Nami is gone, and with her their ship.  Sanji still hasn’t agreed to come with them and Lucy has to protect the restaurant to pay back her debt to Zeff.  Zoro is always so steady beside her, and Lucy really doesn’t want to let him out of her sight.  She certainly doesn’t want to let him fight a man he might not beat.

But like hell she would trample on his dreams like that.

“Of course you do.”

Hearing Mihawk’s name is akin to injecting epinephrine in his veins, and suddenly everything he’s ever worked for is offered to him on a silver platter, the fight of his life, the culmination of the dream he and Kuina shared—

He loses.

And what will you use your strength for when you’ve accomplished your goal?

Zoro doesn’t know.  There’s never been anything but his goal.  There’s nothing nearly so important.

Why do you refuse to step back?  Do you wish to die?

Zoro can’t step back, is beholden to this spot and speared on a blade no longer than a kitchen knife, and if he steps back now he loses everything that ever made him who he was.

Yes…such is defeat.

I’d much rather die.

The blade withdraws and Zoro gears up for a final bought, because he knows he won’t last long against Mihawk with that great black sword of his.

He tries.

He fails.

The gulf between them is great as the gulf between the earth and the sun.

But Zoro is a swordsman to the bone, and so he sheaths Wado, an apology floating in his throat, and turns to Mihawk with his arms spread wide.

Scars on the back are a swordsman’s dishonor.

Admirable.

Don’t rush to death so fast, young one.

Zoro barely even registers the pain—or the ocean he falls into.  His mind is blank, blank, blank and then two sets of hands grab him, drag him up back to the surface and as light rushes in so too does thought and emotion and revelation, and—

He lost.  Kuina, I’m so sorry, I lost—

“Zoro?  Zoro!  Is he alright?  Zoro!”

“Like hell he’d be alright, he—”

He holds his one remaining katana aloft and points to the relentless sun, the white silk hilt stained with flecks of his own blood.

Everyone quiets.

Defeated, deathly injured, and uncharacteristically emotional, in that moment there is nothing Zoro wants more than to see Lucy beside him.  He’s not sure when she became the person he wants to be around when hurting, but she is.

“Lucy…can you hear me?  I’m sorry to worry you.”  And she is worried, he can feel it, and how strange is that, that someone should be worried for him?  That he should care about someone else’s safety in turn?  “I know…that if I don’t become the world’s strongest swordsman, it will only embarrass you.”

Kuina is dead.  Long gone.  He can’t swear to her so he swears to his captain, to Lucy who believed in him and who he let down along with the rest of his expectations.

“I swear,” he chokes, and he hasn’t cried in years, not since Kuina— “I will never lose again!  Until the day I fight him and win, I swear, I’ll never lose again!  You got a problem with that, Pirate King?” He screams hoarsely, his voice choked by tears and pain and grief, and maybe a little embarrassed anxiety besides.

Her reply is instant, warm, and very like her.  “Nope!”

The exchange would be meager and unfeeling for almost any other pair, but for them…it’s enough.  It would always be enough.

Lucy is in tears by the end of the fight, and then Mihawk bisects her swordsman and throws him in the ocean—the one place Lucy can’t reach.  Sanji tries to stop her but she gives him his first order—Let me go—and he releases her immediately.

Lucy throws herself at the Shichibukai, furious, but Mihawk is better than her, better by miles, and barely puts any effort into dodging her attack.  Zoro is miraculously fished out of the sea breathing, and Lucy is shocked to her core when he makes a new oath in her name to become the World’s Greatest Swordsman, that he would never lose again.

She’s also touched, and something warm unfurls in her stomach and chest at his words.

“You got a problem with that, Pirate King?” He yells.  His voice is hoarse and thick with tears.

No.  No, of course I don’t.  “Nope!”

As if I’d ever throw you and your dreams aside.

Chapter Text

Lucy has yet to meet someone who makes her as mad as Arlong does.  Maybe if she meets a Celestial Dragon she’ll feel differently, but for now Arlong pisses her off the most. 

He tormented her navigator for—well Lucy doesn’t know the details, didn’t stick around to hear a story that Nami didn’t want to tell, but she has eyes.

And now Nami is crouched in the street, blood streaming down her shoulder, tears cutting tracks through the dirt on her cheeks, and stabbing herself with a knife.

Lucy watches until she can’t anymore.

“Lucy…” Nami, strong, brave Nami, is so, so scared. “…help me.”

Lucy presses her hat on Nami’s head, a symbol of who and what Nami is to Lucy, a promise different than the one Lucy made to Shanks ten years ago.

I promise you will never be alone.

“DAMN STRAIGHT.”

Nami is mine, you scumbag.

Arlong Park is a mess, and for the first time Zoro feels the need to protect Nami, which he fervently hopes never happens again.  Clearly, such times only come when the situation is both personal and dire, and Nami is making things more difficult for them than necessary.

He is unprepared for the fury he feels when Lucy is thrown into the sea, unable to free herself.  Sanji is similarly enraged, but nowhere near as unhinged—Zoro tries to throw himself into the water to save her, octopus be damned, but is stopped by the cook.

“If you go in the way you are, I’m going to have to save you both, and then where will Lucy-san be?”

Much as he hates to admit it, the cook is right.  So Zoro defeats his opponent, and tries to hold off the shark while Sanji saves their captain.  Both of them nearly die in the attempt, but that’s alright.  The key word there is ‘nearly,’ and in his case he knows he can’t die until he defeats Mihawk—for Lucy’s sake and his own, now that he’s sworn that oath.

In the end, Lucy comes flying out of the harbor with a sharp grin on her face that Zoro really shouldn’t find so appealing.  He could do without her methods of rescue though.

Is it weird that he finds her most attractive when she’s beating up assholes who think they can put her down?  Probably.  Okay, almost definitely.  The look in her eye when she gets seriously pissed, when she leaves all notions of kindness behind in defense of their friends, is something he doesn’t see very often.  Watching her level Arlong Park in just under three minutes is close to breathtaking.

Beating the shit out of Arlong and bringing down his ridiculous park is satisfying for Lucy, so she can only imagine how Cocoyashi and her navigator feel about it.

Actually she doesn’t have to imagine—Nami hugged her and didn't-quite-cry for about ten minutes after it happened, and all Lucy could really make out was something along the lines of “thank you,” “that room,” and “glad it’s gone.”

Lucy will never ask what happened, but she hopes Nami feels satisfied.

Unfortunately, her worn and weary clothes from Foosha are well and truly done for.  Lucy only had three shirts and a pair of shorts to start with, and although her body escaped Arlong’s teeth without permanent injury, her clothes did not.  Her shirt is barely covering the important bits, and her shorts are only staying up because Lucy is standing with her hands on her hips holding the tattered waistband together.

A weary, bloody Zoro who looks like he should really be given some medical treatment, approaches her, takes one look at her clothes, and painfully gives her his own ruined white shirt.  It’s torn from the collar to hem, it’s covered in bloodstains—probably both Zoro’s and his enemies’—and the lower third of it is mostly shredded, but it will work for her if she wears it in her usual style, so she throws it on over her ruined top.

It might be a bit weird, but…she likes wearing his shirt.  It smells like Zoro, which is nice, but it also makes her think maybe her crew might love her as much as she loves them.  Like Zoro’s doing for her what she did for Nami earlier, with the hat.

Zoro flushes when she finishes securing the shirt, and Lucy’s not really sure why.  Nami is giving her a meaningful look Lucy doesn’t know how to interpret.  Sanji looks devastated and tries to give her his coat, but it’s frankly too warm for that.  Usopp doesn’t look like he much cares, and Lucy is grateful that at least one of her nakama isn’t so dramatic.

…Lucy never really thought she would be saying that about Usopp of all people, but, well.  She is.

Then Lucy gets a real look at Zoro’s injuries, and she gasps in horror.

“Z-Zoro!” She squeaks.  “You—you need a doctor!”

Normally she would trust him to take care of himself but since he’s apparently been running around like this Lucy is inclined to force the issue.

The fact that he doesn’t even protest only means she’s right.

She suddenly feels really guilty about throwing him earlier.  It’s just—when she popped out of the water and saw Arlong strangling him, she panicked and threw him to some soft-looking ground outside the compound.

In her defense that would normally barely qualify as a throw for them, but Zoro was clearly not up to it today.

“Sanji-kun, too,” Nami orders sternly.  Lucy looks at her cook, only to find him listing and swaying like a slight breeze would knock him over.

Sanji summons a weary grin.  “Anything for you girls, Nami-san, Lucy-san.”

Three out of five pirates give Sanji an incredulous look, but Nami doesn’t even bother to roll her eyes before pouncing on Lucy.  “You too, Sencho.”

Lucy tries to recall the last time Nami referred to her that way.  She can’t actually remember.  She’s not sure it’s happened before.

Lucy doesn’t really feel the need for a doctor—she’s mostly just tired—but as long as the others go first, she doesn’t mind.

Usopp is the fastest of them right now, so Nami sends him for the doctor while she “makes sure these three don’t kill themselves.”

Lucy has no intention of disobeying her and immediately flops down between her boys, who are already sprawled on the broken ground beneath them.

In spite of everything, Lucy grins.  This feels like the first time they really, truly did something as a crew, rather than a wandering gaggle of pirates.  Lucy feels warm all over.

Nami sighs.  “I’ll make Nojiko give you some shorts, Lucy.  Yours are falling apart.”

Lucy snuffles into Zoro’s shoulder, because he’s already asleep and he’s warm and smells like Zoro, and she doesn’t think he’ll mind if she curls around his side.  Blindly, she searches behind her until she finds Sanji’s sleeve, and she settles contentedly.  She wants to be able to feel it if either Zoro or Sanji moves, because that way she’ll wake up if there’s a threat.  “…Sorry, Nami.”

Lucy is falling asleep before she really realizes what’s happening.  Gentle fingers card through her hair.  “…Idiot.  Don’t be sorry.”

Lucy won her battle, but she didn’t make it through without a few injuries.  Most notable are the bite marks—attacks that should have ripped limbs apart, but thankfully only left grazes, bruises and a few puncture marks instead.  They make Zoro ache with fury, and regret that Lucy has already taken care of Arlong—he really wants another go at the bastard, this time without his innards hanging out of his chest.

Unfortunately, the doctor here is the decent sort, and he refuses to let him, Sanji, or Lucy leave the infirmary until he has observed them for twenty-four hours, which means a lot of time dozing in and out of consciousness for all three of them.  Usopp and Nami drop by every few hours to check on them, but mostly it is very boring.  This is especially true for Lucy, who must have a healing factor of some kind thanks to her Devil Fruit, no matter what she says to the contrary.

Zoro is secretly a bit grateful to the doctor for keeping her there while he is on enforced bed rest.  He feels…unaccountably anxious when he wakes and can’t sense her presence immediately, but the tension resolves as soon as he notices her.  Usually, she’s chatting with Sanji while staying close to Zoro’s own bed.  She clearly isn’t feeling the effects of her injuries, which is good.

Late that evening, Zoro wakes to find her passed out leaning against his cot.  Her hands are folded under her chin.  Nami still has her hat, so her face is unobscured.  She somehow doesn’t look at all diminished without it, even sleeping.  Her hair sticks up in odd places and her mouth hangs open.  She snores a little, and he can see a line of drool trailing out of the corner of her mouth.

His fingers twitch up of their own accord, and brush the cut above her eyebrow—the only one that needed stitches.  It’s a gift from Don Kreig, not Arlong.  Lucy hadn’t had time to patch herself up after the Baratie, and she still ended up taking the two most powerful pirates in East Blue out in two days, which is honestly pretty impressive.

Zoro guesses that means his captain is the most powerful pirate in East Blue now.  Not bad for a seventeen year-old with four crewmembers.

The pad of his thumb grazes the tender bruising around the cut, so soft he barely registers the contact.  Lucy sniffs, but doesn’t move.  He brushes her bangs back behind her ear, and she makes no indication that she feels it.  His shirt is slipping off her shoulder, and he carefully tugs it up so she won’t get cold.  It gives Zoro a weird sense of masculine satisfaction to see her wearing it.  Maybe that’s possessive, but he can’t quite bring himself to care.  He likes that she’s wearing his clothes.  That she let him take care of her when she needed it, that she chose him, his shirt, and not Sanji’s jacket.

He smooths the fabric, and then leans back in the cot.  Then Zoro stares at her for a solid five seconds before realizing his actions were not entirely platonic.

He blames his injuries for not noticing before.  Admiring her during the fight with Arlong, giving her his shirt, the possessiveness, checking up on her every time he wakes…Hell, he half-forgot about his revelations regarding her back at the restaurant, between the fight with Mihawk, the subsequent blood loss, and the stress with Nami.

And it isn’t like he knows, now, what exactly it is he feels.  He finds her attractive, he thinks she’s a good friend, she’s strong, she’s his captain…there’s a lot there.  And Zoro’s not really a…feelings type of person.  He doesn’t dwell on shit, especially not feelings, and he isn’t at all good at examining and identifying them.  He lives in the moment too much to worry about such things.

He doesn’t see much reason to change now, and so instead of panicking like some part of him wants to, he relaxes, closes his eyes, and ignores it.  He dedicated his dream to her back at the Baratie.  Whatever feelings he had now couldn’t be greater than that.

Despite her hyperactive nature and short attention span, Lucy spends the twenty-four hours after defeating Arlong in relative silence and without moving from a designated seat.

Part of this is because the doctor forbade her from moving, due to a puncture wound in her thigh he was afraid would go septic.

Mostly it’s because she refuses to leave Zoro and Sanji alone in the infirmary.

It’s kind of torture, because Lucy would love to go out and join the party the villagers are throwing, but she can’t because she has to be a good captain, and watch over her injured crew.

Sanji and Zoro were injured fighting an enemy Lucy picked, after all.  Or rather, an enemy that picked a fight with them when he targeted her navigator.  They gave it their all and got hurt in the process, so it’s Lucy’s job to make sure they stay safe now.

Also, she just feels better knowing someone’s keeping an eye on them while they’re unconscious.

Lucy ends up settling down in a chair next to Zoro’s bed.  He seems pained—and no wonder, with a wound like that—but she thinks he’s a little less restless when she runs her fingers through his hair or she teases Sanji, who thankfully brings up his own behavior before she can figure out what exactly her problem is.

“Don’t think I’m neglecting you, my lovely ocean flower,” he tells her dramatically, “but I think we both know you prefer a less ostentatious romance.”

Lucy cocks her head to the side, confused.  “I do?”

Sanji raises an eyebrow.  He glances to Lucy’s fingers, currently paused in Zoro’s weird green hair, the shirt she’s still wearing, and then back to her confused expression.

“…Huh.” Then he blinks and resettles himself.  “I really need a smoke.”

The doctor banned the cigarettes from his infirmary, giving Sanji a tirade about the health hazards of “those cancer-granting deathsticks that make your lungs look like the devil took a shriveled shit in your chest.”

The doctor here in Cocoyashi is very colorful.  Lucy kind of wonders if he and Nami are related.

“Uh, Sanji?”

Her cook sends her a winning smile.  “Never mind, my brave and honorable captain!  Have no fear, I shall continue to spoil you and Nami-san to your heart’s content!”

She restrains a sigh.  She’s pretty sure Sanji thinks he’s being nice, so she’ll endure it.  For a second there she thought Sanji was going to treat her normal, though.  “…thanks, Sanji.”

Sanji makes a tutting noise.  “And I do mean to your heart’s content, Sencho.”

Her fingers pauses again, tangling themselves in Zoro’s hair.   She looks at Sanji, who has a brilliant smile on his face, and he looks oddly fond for a guy she only met two days ago.  Then again, Sanji has a big heart.

Huh.  Maybe Sanji believes in her too.

“…thanks, Sanji.”

On the third day after Arlong’s defeat, Zoro finds himself in an alley with a tankard of ale, sitting across from Sanji of all people.  He would never admit it out loud, but the stupid cook can be alright when he isn’t sniffing around Nami and Lucy’s skirts or acting like he’s stronger than Zoro.

The cook puffs on a cigarette, rings forming as he exhales.  It’s a neat trick Lucy is endlessly entertained by.  It surprises Zoro a little that he is willing to put in extra effort for anything when there isn’t an audience around to appreciate it.

Lucy is currently eating her…fifth or sixth meal of the day, over by the town center.  That Devil Fruit must have given her a crazy metabolism or something, because she can pack away food like no one else Zoro has ever seen.

Sanji must have come to the same conclusion, because with a loud exhale he sighs in a resigned sort of way.  “Keeping her healthy is going to be a challenge.  She eats as much as the rest of the crew in one sitting, and still has room for more a couple hours later.”

Zoro makes a noncommittal sound.  He doesn’t know anything about nutrition, other than meat has protein and potatoes have carbohydrates, and he needs both plus a lot of vegetables to build muscle.  Sometimes Sensei had him drink goats milk, when it was available.  Something about it having lots of nutrients.  “Something tells me she’s survived on less.”

Sanji actually growls.  “How could you say something so callous about my darling Lucy-san?”

Zoro glares at him, his hand convulsively gripping around his white katana’s hilt.  “She’s not yours.”

Sanji’s expression changes to something far too canny for Zoro’s liking, and he turns his attention back to his captain so he doesn’t have to look at it.  She is still wearing his ruined white shirt, as she doesn’t have any spares and Cocoyashi is generally still too poor from Arlong’s extortion to give her a free one without everyone involved feeling pretty guilty.  His shirt is too big around the shoulders and she had to tie some knots in the neckline so it stayed up.  It looks a little odd, but no one seems to care, least of all Lucy.

As for himself, he managed to get back to the Going Merry to find his own spare without anyone freaking out about his moving around.

Honestly, Mihawk didn’t deal any damage he can’t come back from.  People are being ridiculous.  So what if he took a stab at his regular training regimen this morning?  It isn’t like Zoro can’t tell when stitches are about to pop out.

“Well, not just mine, at any rate,” Sanji says slowly, a contemplative look on his face.  Zoro just scowls at him.  “Say, how long have you been sailing with her anyway?”

Zoro has to think about it.  On the one hand, it feels like it’s been a lifetime since he was tied to that stupid post and she showed up out of nowhere.  It feels, in some ways, like there hadn’t been a time before it.  In other ways, it feels like no time has passed at all, like if he blinked she would be gone, her and the rest of the crew an imagined, uncanny fever dream.

“About three months, I think.”  There is a boy staring at Lucy with something approaching adoration.  Zoro glares at him, but the kid has the senses of a doornail and doesn’t notice.  Lucy doesn’t seem to notice the kid much though, so that’s good enough for him.

“Hmm.  That’s enough time then,” Sanji mumbles around his cigarette.

Zoro glares at Sanji out of the corner of his eye.  “Enough time for what?”

Sanji taps the cigarette to get rid of the ash.  “Nothin’.  You care about the captain, yeah?”

Zoro doesn’t know how to respond, and settles for an irritated expression.

For some reason, Sanji smirks.  “God, don’t be obvious.  Girls like an air of mystery.”

Zoro curls his lip, decidedly uncomfortable with this whole conversation.  “I don’t see any girls hanging off of you, eyebrows.”

Sanji growls again.  “That is because I am keeping careful watch over the glorious Nami-swan and darling Lucy-san!”

Zoro raises an eyebrow, smirking.  “Where is Nami anyway?  Haven’t seen her around.”

Sanji gives a dismissive wave.  “Had some stuff to attend to.  I told her I would make sure Lucy-san didn’t eat out the town.”

Zoro barely holds back a snort, but a fond smirk curls his lips.

“Anyway, as I was saying, you care for Lucy-san.”  Zoro tenses again.  He barely knows what he feels himself, and he doesn’t like Sanji telling him.  “So you’re not going to hurt her, or I’ll kill you.”

Some part of Zoro which hadn’t gotten over Sanji’s continued flirtation with Lucy relaxes a little.  He is pretty sure this is Sanji’s way of saying he isn’t pursuing Lucy in earnest.  It makes something inside Zoro unfurl in relief.

“Isn’t that my line?” he throws back.

Sanji rolls his eyes.  “Like I’d ever hurt a woman.”  He stands, having finished the cigarette.  Zoro can see him eyeing the market, where they are selling some fish caught only a few hours ago.  “Our captain deserves to be happy, yeah?”

Zoro looks for Lucy in the crowd.  She is standing on top of a table, evading one of the cooks who had probably taken issue with her incredible appetite.  Somehow she is still managing to snag food in spite of his efforts, but the hastily tied shirt is in serious danger of slipping off again with all her movement.

Something fond and warm squirms inside Zoro’s chest.  He feels his gaze soften, even as he makes to go fix her shirt for her.  “She’s going to be Pirate King.”

Sanji smirks, and sticks his hands in his pockets.  “She is, isn’t she?”

Chapter Text

Zoro is dozing on the deck when he’s woken by a high-pitched squeal.

He frowns, decides to ignore it, and then shifts again to get comfortable.

This turns out to be a mistake.

Zoro registers the rapid steps approaching, and assumes whoever it is will soon pass him by.  His hands lace together under his head, the sea breeze is cool and the sun warms him and the deck pleasantly.

Something slams into his gut.

Zoro sits up, spluttering profanities, and then realizes it’s only Lucy.

Lucy, who is currently sitting in his lap.

Shit.

He leans away as best he can, startled, but this doesn’t actually help anything because Lucy, sensing her prey’s escape attempt, just clamps her thighs around his waist.

Zoro may or may not make a sound akin to a whimper.

“Lucy what the hell?!” Zoro screeches (in a manly way.  Manly screeches).  This is not anything she’s done before—she doesn’t screw with people like this, and although she’s tactile she’s never tried anything even remotely…well she just hasn’t.

Lucy’s face is split in her widest grin.  “Look, Zoro!  I have a bounty!”  Then she shoves a piece of paper in his face.

The vast majority of the poster is filled with the face of his captain.  Someone managed to snap a picture of her with her lips pulled back in a perfect D smile, eyes squinting shut and her hat tipped to the wind.  It’s a good picture—ridiculous for a wanted poster, but it’s good.  She looks cute, sweet, carefree as always, and not at all bloodthirsty.

It’s unfortunate that the picture gives away so many details though.  Her scar, for one.  The hat.  He glances down at the bounty price, and chokes.

“Thi-thirty million?!”

Lucy just grins, her expression matching her picture. “Yep!”

And because she’s Lucy and doesn’t actually know the meaning of the words ‘restraint’ or ‘decorum,’ she starts bouncing.

On his lap.

With her thighs clamped around his waist.

Oh God don’t think about it, he grunts internally.  He’s propped up on his elbows so her chest is eye-level and…

He draws on all of Sensei’s mindfulness techniques.  He’s thinking about dead children and acid.  Dead children and acid.  Dead children and—

“Isn’t it great, Zoro?” Lucy asks.  She’s so ecstatic Zoro thinks she might spontaneously combust.  Zoro might spontaneously combust if she doesn’t stop bouncing.

“Uh.  Yes.”  It’s really hard to form sentences when his lap is full of squirming girl.  “Thirty is a lot though.  I think it’s the highest one in East Blue.”

Lucy grins, about to say something, but Nami appears out of nowhere and snatches the poster, scowling.

“This is bad,” Nami moans.  Sometimes when she speaks to Lucy she sounds like a long-suffering parent.  Or, maybe more accurately, a very patronizing pet owner.  “This means people will be after us!”

Lucy’s eyes glint and she shifts to look up, but now more weight is settled on Zoro’s lap, right over his…

Dead children.  Dead children, acid, and the love cook.

Huh.  That actually helped.

“It’s okay, Nami!”  Lucy chirps.  “People were going to chase us eventually.  I’m going to be the Pirate King!”

Nami’s face shifts from stressed to fond, and then amused as she fully takes in Zoro’s predicament.  “I suppose you’re right.”  Zoro feels dread wash through him when the sea-witch throws him a wink.  “Are you going to help me clean now or are you going to take a nap with Zoro?”

Zoro freezes.

That bitch.

Lucy hums.  “I’ll help you clean, Nami!”  Then she scrambles off of Zoro, and he’s left lying on the deck, propped up by his elbows and in a bit of a bind.

Lucy is gone five seconds later, and so Zoro swings his gaze to Nami, who is helplessly giggling, either at his expression or predicament or both.

“What was that for?” He growls.  He stands to make himself feel less vulnerable.

“Haha, oh your face!” Nami hiccups a laugh, and Zoro is left fuming and humiliated.  “I thought you were going to pass out!”

Zoro just stands there, shaking, his original question still in the air.  Nami finally gets a hold of herself and grins her sharpest smile at him.

Only an idiot would stand unafraid of that smile.

“It was a win-win situation for me,” Nami explains, finally.  “If she got off of you, she’d be making less work for me, and you would owe me a favor.  And if she didn’t she’d be quiet for a while and…” her grin grows sly.  “you’d still owe me a favor.”

Zoro splutters, incoherently angry.  “What?”

Nami rolls her eyes.  “I’m not blind, Zoro.”  She waves at him as she descends the stairs to the main deck.  “And I know you’ll never make the first move, so.  I was helping you.  Say thank you.”

Zoro does not say thank you.  Zoro is considering throwing himself in the ocean.  “Fuck off.”

Nami makes a tutting noise.  “Just for that, I’ll have to fine you.”

Zoro does not actually decide to drown himself, but it’s a close call.

So to recap:

Zoro replaced his two broken katana with new blades, Lucy was nearly executed three minutes ago, and now he, the love cook and his miraculously-not-dead-captain—he could kill Lucy for smiling—are running for their ship in the middle of the worst storm he has ever seen, and chased by about fifty Marines.

It's been a busy afternoon.

But just as they’re nearing the harbor, a figure appears in the rain.

When Zoro notices that it’s a familiar-looking girl, he immediately frowns.  It’s the clumsy chick who knew a lot about katanas from the sword shop.

She doesn’t look so clumsy now.

The love cook, predictably, notices that she is female and loses all sense of dignity.

“She’s cute!” He gushes.

“Roronoa Zoro!” She calls.  Zoro quirks an eyebrow.  He specifically didn’t mention his name to her earlier because he was worried about being recognized with a Marine base right here in town.

The men chasing the three of them cheer at the sight of her.  “Sargent Major Tashigi!”

Wait, so that means—

Shit.

“To think that you were Roronoa Zoro, and a pirate at that!”  She yells, indignant.  “You were just toying with me all along!”

What?  Where did she get that from?

“You bastard!” Sanji snaps.  “What did you do to that lady?”

Wait, what?  He didn’t do anything.

 “Nothing!  I didn’t know she was a Marine!”

“Zoro…you were with…?”

Fuck, that was Lucy.  Why did she sound upset? 

Oh shit, the way Marine girl said that sounded like—

“NO.”

“I will take back that Wado Ichimonji!”  The Marine lady yells

Kuina’s katana?

Like hell.

“Just try it.” He challenges, grin fierce.

He doesn’t get the girl’s gall—thinking she can just take someone’s katana like that.  What on earth was she smoking?  She’s no more deserving of the blade than him or anyone else, but at least in his hands it will achieve a dead girl’s dream.

She leaps at him, her katana in an aggressive offensive position, and Zoro blocks with Wado—he’s not willing to test his new, strangely aware blades on an opponent he doesn’t want to hurt.

And he doesn’t want to hurt her.  She seems decent enough, even if she is being ridiculous, and she helped him out earlier.

“You guys go on ahead,” he tells the others.  “I’ll catch up.”

He really, really doesn’t want to be separated from Lucy right now considering her recent almost-execution, but Sanji will make sure she gets away.  And he’s too curious about the not-Kuina Marine that’s challenging him.

Lucy looks between him and the Marine, and her eyebrows furrow.  “Okay…”

“Let’s go, Lucy-san!” Sanji interjects, with a warning look in his direction.  Zoro’s not sure what that’s about, but Lucy turns back toward the ship and runs at full speed, Sanji hot on her heels.

The Marine—Tashigi, they said—pushes against his blade, tries to leverage her strength against his.

She’s an okay swordsman, who would probably beat most average opponents.  But Zoro is probably the best swordsman in East Blue right now, and even though he’s still in the final stages of recovery from Mihawk’s blow, she’s nowhere near a match for him.

He quickly disarms her—it only takes about three moves and a little footwork—and just to prove his point, he traps her against the wall and sticks the tip of his sword in the soft plaster beside her head, the warning clear.

That could have been you.

“I can’t hand this katana over to anyone, no matter what!” He tells her, and he can’t quite quell the dark glee that victory brings him, even if it was easy.  He’s sure the smile on his face is…unwelcoming, to say the least.

But it’s a warning, too.  A reminder to the Marine that the world isn’t so black and white as she seems to think it is.  There aren’t just pirates and Marines, good men and bad ones.  Zoro would never call himself a good man, but he has a job to do, a level his blades must rise to, and the pursuit is a worthy one.  Her assumption that all pirates carrying fine blades are unworthy of them is naïve.

He removes the katana from the wall, and replaces Wado to its scabbard.  He turns toward the harbor, hoping the others made it.  He has to catch up—

“Why…WHY DIDN’T YOU CUT ME DOWN?”

Zoro stops, and turns to look at Tashigi over his shoulder.

“Is it because I’m a woman?” the Marine demands.

You’re so lucky to be born a boy, Zoro.

“You dare go easy on me in a serious duel just because women aren’t as physically powerful as men?  How shameful!  I didn’t pick up a katana for fun!  Of course, I shouldn’t expect someone like you to ever understand what it feels like to wish you were born a man—”

“It’s your existence that bothers me, not your gender!”  Zoro snaps, partly because he’s still furious and worried over Lucy’s near-execution, but also because—

How could she have Kuina’s words, too?

The woman stops, clearly startled.

“You look exactly like a friend of mine that died a long time ago, and now you’re even spouting the same crap she did.  So stop copying her, rip-off!”

The Marine’s face turns red in anger.  “Why, I’ve never heard anything more childish in my life—”

“And another thing—I DIDN’T GO EASY ON YOU BECAUSE YOU’RE A GIRL.  IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE WEAKER THAN ME, AND THERE’S NO REASON TO GO ALL-OUT ON SOMEONE WHEN I DON’T NEED TO.  SO CAN IT.”

The woman stops, equal parts flustered and offended.  Zoro doesn’t really care.

“Stop blaming your weakness on your gender, Copy-cat.  If you want to be stronger, you want to win, train or somethin’, don’t just sit there and complain!”  Zoro takes a deep breath, knowing he may be giving decent advice to an enemy and not really caring.  This type of thing pissed him off when he was a kid, too, when it was Kuina frustrated with the world.  His stance on the subject hasn’t really changed.  Copy-cat just looks at him, wide-eyed.  “My captain is a woman, and she’s the strongest person I know!  She’s going to be Pirate King!  So screw you, and your attitude, and stop blaming the world for your own inability to work for what you want!”

And that’s another thing he appreciates about Lucy.  She doesn’t care that everyone assumes a man will claim her dream.  She refuses to bow to expectation.  So what if the world expects men to wield swords and women to clean house?  Lucy sees it as a title, not an exclusive club.

He thinks Kuina would have liked her.  He thinks Kuina would have been inspired by her.

“What do you know of being a woman?”  Tashigi growls bitterly.

Zoro sighs.  “Nothin’.  And I’m not saying it’s easy, or that women don’t deal with shit men don’t have to, but that’s how it is.  You either deal with it and prove them wrong or you don’t.  You want me to cut you down?  Make me.”

And with that Zoro turns around again, back in the direction of the ship.  The storm is getting horrible, and Zoro just knows Nami will be itching to set sail, the demon bitch.  Plus, there’s a worried knot of tension in his gut over Lucy—she was nearly executed in front of him today, and he doesn’t want to let her out of his sight right now.

He takes off at a run, and doesn’t look back.

Not a single Marine follows.

It will take another day to get to the Grand Line from Loguetown.  The storm outside rages until late afternoon, and clears just in time for the sun to set.

Lucy, of course, immediately bounces up to the figurehead once the rain stops.  Now that it’s calmer, and Nami isn’t giving new directions every three seconds, Zoro follows her, because they need to have a talk.

Lucy nearly died today, and was only saved by a truly random bolt of lightning at the exact right time.

“Do you believe in God?” Sanji asked him then, cigarette forgotten on the ground.

Zoro hadn’t before but after this afternoon he might reconsider his position.

He blames himself, in some ways, because if he was stronger, or got to her faster, it wouldn’t have taken divine intervention to save her.  And even though he knows it’s completely unfair to blame her for the incident, part of Zoro is mad at Lucy too, because she let herself get caught.

Zoro finds Lucy near the bow of the ship, her eyes gleefully, irreverently trained on the horizon, her hand pressing her hat to her head.  She’s still wearing his old shirt, even though he knows she bought some new clothes in Loguetown, because she hasn’t had time to change yet.

He’s still angry.  So much so he burns with it.  He wants to grab her and shake her, ask her what the hell she was thinking back there.

She notices, somehow, despite not actually looking at him.  She turns to him, the last rays of sunlight warm her, halos her form and blocks portions of her face in shadow.  The too-big shirt billows around her shoulders, and the wind tangles its fingers in her hair.

But she is frowning at him, confused, and maybe a little concerned.

“Zoro?  What’s wrong?”

Zoro scowls, but isn’t sure what he wants to say, what he can say, and so he turns toward the horizon and grunts.  “Nothing.”

She makes a curious sound, and pokes him in the chest.  “Nah, something’s bugging you.”

He leans away from her, which is something he can’t recall ever happening before.  She seems surprised too, and she blinks.

“Zoro?”

She sounds, maybe, a little hurt.

“I thought you were going to be Pirate King.”

She blinks again, and her frown deepens as she registers his words.  “I’m absolutely going to be Pirate King.  That’s why we’re going to the Grand Line.”

His eyes narrow.  “Back at the town.  You were going to let him—” He doesn’t finish, but his hands shake a little with leftover adrenaline.

Lucy’s eyes grow more serious.  “Buggy and Alvida got me.  I didn’t let them do anything.”  Zoro tenses, but doesn’t speak.  “I won’t die, I prom—”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Zoro growls.  They both care too much about their honor, their oaths, for him to let her say something stupid like that.

“I won’t die,” she repeats, her expression a little angry now.  She’s never been mad at him before.  “I promise, I won’t.”

“You apologized to us,” he growls, getting to the heart of the issue, “you smiled.”

The curl of Lucy’s scowl deepens.  “Well…yeah?”

Sometimes, Zoro wants to throw her overboard and not go after her.  “You gave up.”  That was about as harsh a critique as he could give her, and they both knew it.

Lucy sucks in a breath. “I did not.”  She blows some air out her nostrils, obviously checking her temper.  “I’m going to be the Pirate King or die achieving it.  I don’t regret that, so of course I smiled.”

He blinks, and the world spins for a minute.  He recalls his response to her first offer to join her crew, telling her he’s never done anything he regrets.  Still hasn’t, since joining Lucy.  He lives for his dream, would only die striving for it or after he accomplished it.  If there is one thing perfectly understood between them, it is that one lives for one’s dreams with one’s life on the line, or not at all.

In his worry and fear, he somehow forgot that applies to her as well as himself.

He turns back to her, a little ashamed of himself. “Just…promise you won’t.  Give up, I mean.”

Her jaw is tense with the seriousness of the moment.  “I won’t.  I never have.”

He relaxes fully, and her face softens when she sees.  She leans her shoulders back even as her hips sway forward in a satisfied sort of way, thumbs hooked in her waistband.  The spark in her dark eyes grows teasing, and she pokes him in the chest.  “You’re not going to start worrying like Ace, are you?”

Zoro blinks, confused.  “Who’s Ace?”

She grins.  “My older brother.  He always used to try and make sure I didn’t do anything dangerous.  Or unladylike, once he started trying to be polite all the time, the faker.”

Zoro tries to picture his captain younger and in a frilly dress, and snorts at the mental image.  He is a little surprised she feels like sharing—he can’t recall her offering information about her past at all since he met her.  She has a brother.  Huh.

Well, it makes as much sense as anything.  “I don’t have any siblings.”  Or parents.  But he’s never felt too bitter about that, or even curious.  Couldn’t miss what he never knew, and a childhood spent at the dojo wasn’t so bad.  “What’s he like?”

The grin she gives him is blinding, and it’s only halfway through a story about beating up a tiger that Zoro realizes that he, completely unwittingly and without reservation, revealed information about himself.

He thinks, maybe, Lucy is a bit more dangerous than previously realized.

Her small hand is warm when she grips his forearm, enthusiastically describing something that sounds a lot like a heist.  She drags him around the quarterdeck as he listens, acting out her retelling and using him as a prop more often than not.

He still hasn’t made any decisions he regrets.

Chapter Text

Zoro is lifting weights on the quarterdeck behind the figurehead.

He’s sweaty, and he has a deep tan from his daily workouts out here.  The muscles in Zoro's arms and torso contract smoothly under his skin as he makes repetitive motions with the weights, his eyes narrowed in concentration.  His earrings catch the sunlight off the glittering sea as the sun sets behind him.

Lucy can’t stop staring.

This has been a problem, recently.  When they transplanted Nami’s tangerine trees to the ship, their navigator forbade Zoro from working out with his “monstrous, tree-crushing weights” near the precious cargo.  So Zoro moved his workouts to the front of the ship where he’s more visible, which is just plain problematic for Lucy because she can’t stop staring.

With not-insignificant effort, Lucy wrenches her eyes away, and forces herself to look somewhere, anywhere else.  Oh look, the crows’ nest.  It looks exactly as it did yesterday.  How fascinating.

She’s not sure when this started.  Sometime before the Grand Line, she thinks.  Maybe after Loguetown?  Lucy isn’t sure.  Zoro is just...eye catching.

It makes her feel guilty.  She used to only keep an eye on Zoro during workouts when he recently received an injury, so she could react quicker if something happened.  Now…well, now watching makes her feel kind of funny, and her chest twinges, and she likes seeing how his movements affect different muscle groups.  Watching him makes her think of things she’s never considered doing before, makes her stomach swoop low in her belly.

And really, how does that make her any different than the perverts that watched her in Foosha?  It makes her angry with herself.  She should be a better captain than that, objectifying her first mate that way.  The Pirate King should be better than that.

So, Lucy resolves to be better.

The girl turns to the walkway below the tangerine trees, and grins at the anxious princess they’re escorting home.  It’s only been a couple days and the Grand Line is just as interesting as she expected!

“Vivi!” She greets.  The girl startles a little and nearly drops the juice Sanji made for the three girls—Lucy’s with a tasteless protein powder Sanji has started putting in everything she eats that’s not meat.  He claims it’ll help with the cravings, and Lucy has to admit it’s working, if only a little.  Her Devil Fruit requires a lot of energy, and considering the eat-or-die way she was raised, Lucy kind of doubts her eating habits are likely to change anytime soon.  It’s nice of Sanji to try though.

“Ah, Lucy Sencho,” Vivi greets formally.  Lucy wonders why she even bothers, considering all she’s already seen on the ship.  “Sorry, I was distracted.”

Lucy cocks her head to the side with a grin, and very deliberately turns her back to Zoro and his ridiculous muscles.  “Something wrong?” Other than the death of your lifelong caretaker and the probable destruction of your kingdom.

Vivi has a lot going on.

The princess' forehead crinkles, and Lucy gets the feeling she’s debating on whether she’ll risk the pirate’s wrath for her curiosity.  Lucy wonders when she’s going to get over that, because she can’t possibly hang out with them for long without realizing the Straw Hats make an art out of disrespecting each other, and mostly don’t care to injure people who don’t deserve it.

“I was wondering, why do you say you’re going to be Pirate King, not Pirate Queen?”

Lucy blinks because that…is not the question Lucy was expecting.

“Oh yeah, I’ve been wondering,” Usopp pipes, and somehow he’s heard their conversation all the way from the crows’ nest.

“I admit I’ve wondered myself,” Sanji adds, coming out of the kitchen to collect their empty juice glasses.  “You’d make such a lovely queen, Lucy-san.”

Lucy notices Nami has checked into the conversation as well, although she doesn’t seem inclined to contribute.  From the look on her face, she has her own ideas about it, and she’s waiting to see if Lucy will corroborate them or not.

Lucy supposes it’s more surprising that she hasn’t been asked this question before than anything.  Her crew either has remarkable restraint, or they thought she wouldn’t want to answer.

“It’s a title, right?”  Asks Zoro.  He must have just finished his workout, because he’s climbing up the stairs to the galley, a towel around his neck and still shirtless.

Of course Zoro knew.  Of course he just got this too.

“The person who told me about the Pirate King said so,” she agrees, grinning at Zoro and pressing her hat to her hair.  His eyes flash in understanding and she knows he made the connection when he smirks.  “The One Piece doesn’t care if I’m a guy or a girl, it’s just waiting for me.”

Nami smirks too, like she does when she’s right about something, and Sanji lights a cigarette.  Usopp shrugs, muttering about not getting it, and Vivi just stares.

Then her eyebrow twitches, like it does when Vivi is being most like herself.  “Wait, none of you thought to ask before?”

A chorus of “no’s” float around the ship and Lucy just laughs and laughs at the incredible frustration on Vivi’s face.

Chapter Text

God, it’s fuckin’ cold.

Back home the climate was pretty temperate.  Sure, there was occasionally snow outside the dojo, but it wasn’t a thing that happened yearly.  For about a month each year the temperature dropped to around zero degrees Celsius, but mostly it was just an opportunity for Sensei to drill his students on cold-weather mindfulness training and, when Zoro let himself take short breaks, the only time he and the other students got a chance to chuck ice-packed snowballs at each other.  It was a good time, or so he remembers.

He left his village when he was fifteen, and started heading south, where the climate is warmer and more tropical.  Zoro hasn’t seen snow in four, almost five, years, and it is easily approaching negative fifteen.  Maybe negative twenty counting the wind-chill.

Thank every deity there is that Nami got a little over-excited in Loguetown and bought them all winter gear.  Zoro would have frozen his ass off by now if he didn’t have the long downy coat she got him.

He thinks of Nami’s feverish face, the rash on her stomach she’d claimed was a bug bite, and wills an island with a doctor to appear on the horizon.

The deck is empty tonight.  Usually Vivi wanders around until one or two in the morning, insomniac that she is.  Sometimes Nami joins her.  Tonight everyone is down in the makeshift infirmary with their sick nakama.  Zoro isn’t down there because someone has to keep watch, keep looking for an island that may or may not appear.  Zoro volunteered to go first because at least it felt like something useful to do, rather than just sitting around listening to Nami’s labored breathing.

It is nearly a full moon and the sky is almost sharp in its clarity.  The sea is still and black, reflecting the stars above in painful relief.  Zoro isn’t one for poetry, but he might call it breathtaking or beautiful if he wasn’t so resentful and irritated with it all.  Nami is sick, deathly ill, and the world still looks like this?  Unbelievable.

Zoro glares at the one constellation he bothered to memorize:  Kroman.  He learned it from an old sailor he met at a pub one night.  The story is something about a prophecy that concerns the apocalypse, or something, Zoro didn’t care that much at the time.  It’s pretty much useless in terms of navigation because it moves so much, and Zoro only really remembers it because the crusty old man taught him how to tell time by reading it.  When the moon passes through the brightest star in the constellation, it’s around 1:00 or 1:30, depending on one’s distance from the equator.  Every handswith between the moon and Kroman is another hour from that time, depending on whether the moon is above or below the constellation.

Zoro squints at the moon.  It’s an imprecise method, but he’s pretty sure it’s around three in the morning.  Nami would know the exact time, maybe down to the second.  She is a pretty impressive navigator, after all.

He wonders if Nami’s okay.  Then he shakes himself.  Even if Nami isn’t okay now she will be, because Nami is strong.  Strong enough to be a Straw Hat, as they’ve started to call themselves.  She’s not going down without a fight.  They just have to find a doctor, and give her a chance.

The ropes creak, and Zoro leans over the edge of the crows’ nest to see who is coming up.  He kind of hopes it’s Lucy, even though he knows their captain would never leave Nami’s side right now.

It’s not Lucy, but it is the second-least likely person to leave Nami right now.

“What’re you doing here, shitty cook?”

Sanji heaves himself over the edge of the crow’s nest ungracefully.  “Tch.  Piss off, Moss Head.  I came to relieve you.”

Was Sanji trying to be nice?  Weird.  Especially considering the circumstances.  “I don’t need your help, you perv.  Go back down to the cabin.”  He raises an eyebrow.  “Or are you going to leave the girls alone with Usopp?

For some reason, Sanji has been convinced all day that Usopp is secretly determined to grope the girls.  Zoro isn’t sure what set him off, but he’s absolutely positive that Usopp has no designs of any kind.  He’s way too into his friend from Syrup Village for that.

What was her name again?  The frail blonde chick?  Karen?  Kali?  Didn’t matter.  Zoro is pretty sure Usopp is set on marrying her, even if he doesn’t know it.  Besides, Usopp isn’t the type to grope women or even ogle them, unlike some people Zoro could mention.

Sanji’s ridiculous eyebrow twitches at the remark.  “He’s asleep.  So are Nami-san and Vivi-san.”  Sanji gives Zoro a more serious look.  “Sencho is…anxious.”

This catches Zoro’s attention.  When the cook starts referring to Lucy with her title it means he’s serious about something.

“She’s worried,” Zoro tries.

“She needs to sleep,” Sanji grouses.  The disgruntled expression on Sanji’s face tells Zoro he has already tried and failed to coerce her into resting.

This, more than almost anything else so far, is what worries Zoro.  Lucy has the weirdest ability to fall asleep anywhere, in almost any position.  She’s ridiculous.  If she isn’t sleeping now, she must really be out of her mind with worry.

“Well what d’you want me to do about it?”  But he’s already collecting his katanas and passing Sanji the blanket.

Sanji gives Zoro a blank, vaguely irritated look.  “Go comfort her, obviously.”

Wait, wait, what?  There is literally no one less suited to comforting someone than Zoro.  Especially not about something like this, where loss of a loved one is involved.  The only person Zoro ever lost is Kuina and his method of coping involved swearing a life-long vow on her sword to carry both their dreams to his death.  Zoro is the least qualified grief counsellor in the entire Grand Line.

Sanji must notice his dilemma, because the cook rolls his eyes, mutters “idiot,” under his breath, and then steps on his fingers so Zoro is forced to release the rope.  “Just ask her how she’s doing.”

Zoro scowls.  “Well why don’t you do it then?”

Sanji pulls out a thermos of something warm, and gives Zoro a look like he’s the single stupidest person alive.  “Because I’m not the person she needs to talk to, dumbass.”

Zoro isn’t actually the dumbest person alive, so he knows better than to ask why Sanji seems to think that’s him.

“Fine,” he mutters instead, and climbs down the rope netting to the main deck.

“Let me know if anything changes with Nami-san!”  Sanji hollers from the top of the crows’ nest.

“Obviously,” Zoro mutters, but he gives the cook a wave to let him know he will.

The cabin they set aside for Nami is in the heart of the ship, but the Merry isn’t that big.  There’s a hatch in the middle of the deck that opens up to the hold, and Zoro grimaces as his palm meets the cold metal.  He yanks up and descends quickly into the warm before closing the hatch behind him—he doesn’t want to let all the heat out.  He’s no doctor, but he knows cold air is bad for the ill.

It’s quiet inside except for the gentle creaking of the ship and Nami’s harsh breaths.  She sounds worse than she did a few hours ago, but Zoro puts it out of his mind—he can’t do anything about it, and Nami is strong.  She’ll be fine.

As his eyes adjust to the darkness inside the cabin, Zoro starts to make out the shapes of his nakama.  Nami, obviously, is the one on the bed.  The long hair marks the person sleeping upright on Nami’s bedside as Vivi, and Usopp is snoring in the corner, on top of Carue.  Which means the person hunched at the foot of the stairs and shivering is…

“Lucy,” Zoro whispers, and then notices she’s still wearing her normal getup which means she must be freezing, even here in the warmest part of the ship.  What the fuck?  Why didn’t that useless cook at least grab her coat for her?

Lucy’s head whips around, and he can see the whites of her eyes widen even in the dark.  “Zoro?”

He gets to the bottom of the stairs and starts unbuckling his jacket.  “Idiot.  Here, take this.”  He is wearing more clothes underneath than she is.  He’ll be fine.  “The last thing we need is for someone else to get sick.”

That might have been the wrong thing to say.  Her expression is suddenly horribly torn, and almost grief-stricken.  “But then won’t you be cold?”

He doesn’t really care, but telling her that won’t help anything so he hesitates.  “We could share the jacket…”

Lucy cocks her head to the side curiously and Zoro opens half the jacket in invitation.  Lucy seems to realize what the plan is and scrambles to comply, shoving herself under his coat with characteristic carelessness.

Zoro lets out a hiss as soon as she’s pressed against him under the jacket, because holy shit, cold.  Her right shoulder is under his left armpit, and her chest is pushed against his ribcage, her toes catch the fabric of his pants, and Lucy’s hips press against his pelvis.  It is a little uncomfortable, if Zoro is being honest, and it would be incredibly awkward if Lucy hadn’t systematically dismantled any sense of personal space between them over the last few months.  Now he just feels vaguely guilty for thinking about her that way at all when she trusts him so much.  “Shit, you’re cold,” he growls, and works to tie the buckles around them.  It's awkward because the coat really wasn't made for two people and he doesn't have a lot of give in the shoulder area due to Lucy filling every available space.  It’s a good thing she’s tiny.

Lucy shivers violently against him, like her body is finally registering that it’s cold now that she’s suddenly not.  “Sorry.  I didn’t notice…”  She shifts so her head is facing Nami, and Zoro remembers what he came down here for in the first place.

Zoro will never in his life admit he took advice from the shitty love-cook.  “So…how’re you doing?”

Oh God, that sounded even worse than he was expecting.

Lucy tilts her head to look at him, which means her chin is resting on his chest.  She smells like the sea and the sun.  “Huh?  I’m fine?”

He raises an eyebrow when another shiver wracks her body.  “You don’t look fine.”

She pouts, which is adorable, but Zoro would never admit such things.

“You’re not asleep, either.  Which is weird.”  It is something like three in the morning, after all.

Lucy looks away from him, her cheek resting on his chest.  “It’s…Nami, being like this.  It’s my fault.”

Zoro glances down in shock.  Lucy isn’t one for self-afflicted guilt trips.  That’s more Zoro’s thing.  Or Sanji’s.

“How is it your fault?” He asks.  Because it isn’t, obviously, no matter what Lucy’s thinking right now.

Lucy’s tiny, furiously strong fists clutch Zoro’s shirt.  “If I hadn’t asked her to come with us after Arlong Park…”

“Hey,” he scolds, “Don’t go making decisions for us.  You’re the captain, but we chose to follow.  Don’t go belittling her choice.  She wants to see the world, remember?”

The grip on his shirt relaxes a bit.  “…she wants to draw a map.”

Zoro nods.  Lucy shifts a little, and her foot catches on one of the bandages around his still-healing legs.  He holds back a wince, but she must feel him tense because she goes completely still and stiff a second later.

“Sorry!” She whimpers.  “Sorry, Zoro, I…sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he tells her.  He’s the dumbass who was going to chop off his own legs to kill a couple grunts.  Ah well.  No regrets.

“I was going to ask earlier…” Lucy whispers, hesitant.  “If you were okay.  Your legs didn’t look good.  And I thought you might have gotten some burns from the wax and the fire.”

Zoro’s pretty sure all three of them were singed a bit by the fire.  He’s also pretty sure his was the worst of it, because he decided to use the flames to surprise their opponents.

He wanted to see if he could wield fire on his swords.  He heard of someone who could do that once.  Turns out it isn’t so hard with decent blades.

“I’m fine,” he tells Lucy, because yeah, he aches just about everywhere and he nearly severed his own tendons yesterday, but he’s fine.  Or he will be.

“I just…I don’t like it when you get hurt.”  He can hear the seriousness in her voice, the pain.  He wonders how long she’s been holding this in.  He knows she hovers from a distance, sometimes, when she knows he’s still healing from various wounds and she’s worried he’s straining himself, but he can’t really remember when that started.

“Jeez, it’s not like I’m going to keel over.”

“I know that,” Lucy protests with a surprising level of vehemence.  “You’re strong.  You’ve always been strong.”

Zoro may or may not be flushing.  He’s just glad it’s dark in here.  “Then don’t worry so much.”

“But it seems like you get hurt a lot,” she tells him quietly.  “And I don’t like it.”

“I chose to come too,” Zoro frowns down at her to get his point across.  “And I can handle myself, so stop worrying.  It’s disrespectful.”

Lucy freezes, her hand twisting convulsively around his shirt.  “…you’re right.  I’m sorry.”

Zoro rubs her shoulder through the jacket to show her she’s forgiven.  “That’s why you should sleep.  People say stupid things at three in the morning.”

“What, here?”

Zoro is surprised she’s even protesting.  It’s not like she’s ever displayed any sense of propriety before.  Although maybe it’s more that they’re at the foot of the stairs than anything.  Whatever, it’s comfortable enough for Zoro, and Lucy’s going to end up passed out on him no matter how they slice it.  “Here’s fine.”

She bites her lip and shifts again, to get a better look at Nami.  “I want to stay awake so I can be here if she needs anything.”

Zoro squints at Nami, who is sound asleep and sounds terrible, but not like she’s likely to move anytime soon.

“…If I promise not to get seriously injured on the next island, will you go to sleep?”

Lucy’s head whips around so fast Zoro gets smacked in the face with some of her short hair.  “…really?”

Zoro nods, cursing himself.  This was going to make his life so much harder.  “Really.”

Lucy holds his gaze for a second longer, and then returns the nod.  “…Okay.”

Zoro is starting to feel overheated in the jacket now that Lucy isn’t giving him frostbite.  “Okay.  Now go to sleep.”

Lucy slumps down onto his chest immediately, and now Zoro knows he’s flushing.  It’s not like they’ve never slept next to each other before—it’s not even the first time she’s slept using him for a pillow, because she’s started falling asleep on him for naps on lazy afternoons.  It is the first time she’s ever been quite so…close, though, the first time they’ve been quite this tangled up in each other, and the first time they’ve fallen asleep together intentionally.

It’s…nice.  Or Zoro thinks so anyway.

Lucy is asleep and snoring in less than five minutes, and Zoro lets himself fully relax.  She looks nice when she sleeps.  Kind of soft and young, with her short hair sticking up in every possible direction, hopelessly mussed.  She doesn’t look old when she’s awake, like at all, but absent the near-manic cheer, her face looks…smoother.  And it’s easier to see the undercurrent of seriousness she carries when she’s asleep, because her eyes don’t tense at the corners, and her nostrils don’t flare.  Zoro likes that he gets to see her like this.  It feels…special.

Their relationship is special, he knows.  There was a reason Sanji sent him down here, after all.  Lucy wouldn’t tell anyone else that she has doubts, or that she was afraid she’d made the wrong choices for her crew.  She wouldn’t fall asleep on Sanji like this, or even Usopp or the girls.  Just Zoro.

And likewise, he’s never been quite this close to someone before.  Maybe Kuina, but they’d been close in the way childhood rivals are close.  This is…different.

Zoro hasn’t thought much about his little revelation at Cocoyashi.  He hasn’t really considered what it might mean for him, for them.  He still doesn’t really understand what he feels, if it’s simple attraction for a friend or something more substantial.  He’s content where he is, for now, at any rate.  So long as he’s the one Lucy relies on for stuff like this, he’s content.

She snuffles a little into his shoulder.  Instinctively, he clumsily wraps an arm around her, pinching them closer together under the jacket.  She gives a tiny exhale before passing off into deeper sleep.

Zoro thinks, dangerously, that he could get used to watching his captain sleep.

Lucy wakes up feeling fuzzy and warm.

Almost too warm, actually.

Wait, scratch that, Lucy’s about to melt.

Lucy wriggles, only to find her arms are pinned around…something…and her legs, while free, are curled up tight against the warm mass beneath her to escape the cold at her feet.

Lucy opens her eyes, and is met with a white shirt and a tan throat.  Gold earrings brush the strained collar of a light green coat.

…oh.

She remembers now, how Zoro came to her last night, how he comforted her and made her go to sleep.  How he shared his body-heat and coat with her, how he never complained once as she unburdened herself on him.

She feels her face heat up when she realizes how closely they’re tangled together.  Her arms are around his torso, and her legs wrap around his thighs.  His left hand is cradling her head.  Lucy spent the night drooling on his chest.

He looks pretty peaceful, though.  He usually still looks a little tense when sleeping, but not today.  Lucy traces the slope of his brow with her eyes, studies the shape of his mouth, his nose, and the rough look of his day-old stubble.

This isn’t actually the first time she’s fallen asleep on Zoro, not by a long shot, but it is the first time they did this so intentionally.

Lucy’s not…entirely sure what to make of it.

She’s also not in the right mindset to evaluate it.  Not right now, with Nami so ill.  Lucy can hear the heavy wheezing from here and she can tell just by listening that it’s gotten worse over the course of the night.

She should go check on Nami.

Besides, it’s really warm in this coat.  They’re both a bit sticky and Lucy may be getting heat stroke.

Lucy can't reach the buckles—they're behind her, and her arms are trapped underneath Zoro's waist—so she rocks a little, trying to wriggle out while trying not to disturb Zoro too much.  The buckle near the hips—well, Zoro’s hips, the buckle is actually fastened under Lucy’s rear—is tight though, and it’s going to take a little effort to get under it.

Carefully, she tries to wriggle under the belt.  She pushes as firmly as she can without disturbing Zoro and—

Zoro grunts in his sleep, and suddenly Lucy’s staring at the ceiling with an alarming amount of weight pressing down on her.

She gasps, and for a second Lucy sounds like Nami, with her wheezing breaths.

Stubble scrapes her neck, and an arm like steel is under her back, and—oh, it’s Zoro.

Zoro, who hates having his sleep disturbed.  Zoro, who has been known to throw sharp things at offensive nearby parties while sleeping.

Yeah, Lucy’s an idiot for thinking she was getting out of that one.

She probably jostled him too much, and Zoro, being Zoro, rolled over to pin her down and make her stop moving so he could sleep peacefully.  Honestly, Lucy is just lucky he shoved her up a bit so she can breathe right now instead of wheezing into his shirt.

Not that breathing is exactly easy with a Zoro-sized weight on her chest, but.  Oh well.

Awkwardly, Zoro’s hips are now between her thighs because Lucy’s not wearing socks and it’s frick’n cold in the here, so when Zoro rolled them over and hiked her up, she instinctively locked her ankles together to avoid freezing.  They’re just lucky this coat is roomy on the lower half, frankly, because now the buckle is stretched too far and there’s no hope of getting out of here until Zoro wakes up.

It’s unfortunate because if one of them wasn’t asleep right now it would be a pretty romantic position and—

Wait.

Unfortunate?

Since when?!

Lucy hasn’t—she doesn’t do this.  Or she hasn’t.  She doesn’t know how?  There were only one or two guys her age in Foosha, and she thought they were jerks.  Ace was popular with girls his age, Lucy remembers, but he never dated anyone seriously.  It’s not like she would ask him about that sort of thing anyway.

And this is Zoro, Zoro who is her first mate, the first member of the crew she picked for herself, the first one to follow her.  The one who makes food puns out of his attack names, who she tells about all her weirdest dreams and who just gets her, who understands everything about her and who laughs when she plays people.  Zoro, who even asleep is cradling her gently, pressing her firmly up into his form like she’s something precious but not something breakable, and it makes her feel safe and warm and—

Shit.

Shit she likes him, doesn’t she?

Zoro, being the inconvenient turd he is, still has her head cradled in his palm so she can’t even thunk it against the floor for a satisfying sound.

What does she do with this?

Lucy doesn’t know—anything, about relationships.  Like, at all.  She hasn’t had a single adult role model with a significant other of any kind.  She had no friends her age other than her brother, who didn’t have any long-term relationships.  She hasn’t had her first kiss, and she sure as hell hasn’t had her first...anything else.  She only knows about sex because Makino sat her and Ace down for a talk about it when they both turned twelve.  Lucy didn’t even read romantic books because she never had the patience, and frankly learning how to read harder books lost all appeal once Sabo left, so she doesn’t even have unreasonable expectations.

Jeez, Zoro is heavy.

Who’re her other options?  Sanji?  That is a terrible idea.  Just…no that is bad.  Very bad.  Usopp?  That might actually be a good idea, but Lucy is still kind of unclear on whether he’s dating Kaya or not.  Lucy kind of gets the feeling Usopp is unclear on that too.

Maybe she could ask Nami or Vivi?  But obviously not now.  Later, when neither are sick or trying to head off rebellions.

She just…Lucy really, truly, has no idea what she’s doing.

Most of the time that doesn’t matter much to her—she’s good at surviving shit and things usually work out for her—but this is Zoro, and…feelings or not, he matters to her.  Very much.

Zoro’s nose falls to the crook of her neck due to her squirming.  He smells like blood, steel, and sake.

…she probably shouldn’t find that attractive.

Shit.

Chapter Text

They are finally, finally exiting the freezing cold of Drum Island, and Zoro couldn’t be more grateful for it.  He may have cried in relief when Vivi reminded them that Alabasta is a desert.  No one could prove it, at any rate.

He’s glad everyone made it off Drum, though.  From the story Sanji and Chopper told, it sounds like it was touch and go for at least three of his nakama for a while, which is three too many.  Especially when Zoro didn’t know about it at the time and one of them was Lucy.

Currently, most of the crew is either acquainting themselves with Chopper or acquainting Chopper with the ship.  Usopp keeps telling Chopper very exaggerated stories that the naïve little reindeer seems perfectly willing to believe.  Usopp, not used to having such a perfect audience, is predictably milking it for all it’s worth.

Nami and Vivi are checking their course to Alabasta, which is apparently about a week away.  The frown lines in Vivi’s forehead seem more pronounced than usual, and Zoro wonders if more bad news came of Alabasta.

Sanji is leaning on a barrel near Chopper and Usopp, and smoking a cigarette.  The little reindeer seems stressed about this, but Sanji is apologetically unaffected by his pleas for him to quit.

And Lucy…

Lucy is sitting on the figurehead, hand on her hat and looking out toward the horizon.

Zoro is unsurprised to find her there.  It’s her favorite place on the ship.  Only Usopp even tries to sit there when she’s not around, and even then he usually backs off after a minute or so saying something about it not feeling right.

Lucy, while otherwise mostly fine, still has bandages wrapped around her hands and feet.  Doctorine seemed pissed at her when she realized Lucy wasn’t going to be staying with her for the entire recovery period.  They have a doctor on the ship now though, so Zoro isn’t worried.  Much.

“Nami says it’ll be about two weeks to Alabasta,” he comments.

Lucy whirls around on the figurehead, and nearly topples backward into the sea.  Zoro snatches her wrist to steady her, if only to save himself the trouble of getting wet.

“Oh, thanks Zoro!” She chirps, and grins sunnily.  Zoro rolls his eyes and steps closer to get a better look at her hand.  The bandages smell like lemony antiseptic and honey, and her hands are meticulously wrapped from fingertip to wrist.  Lucy doesn’t pull her hand away, instead just lets him look.

“Love-cook said he passed out at the base of the mountain.”  Zoro would get on Sanji for endangering Lucy and Nami like that, but hev had a feeling Lucy wouldn’t be amused considering the guy broke his freaking spine and a couple of ribs in the process, so Zorohasn’t mentioned it.  Especially not after witnessing the cook’s full-on kowtow of groveling when he heard how bad Lucy’s condition was upon completing her climb.

Lucy, unconsciously corroborating him, rolls her eyes.  “Sanji didn’t pass out, Sanji took an avalanche to the face to get us up the mountain.”

Zoro hums and splays her fingers, testing the mobility.  “So you climbed up to the castle by hand?  Carrying the two of them?”

Lucy shrugs.  “Yes?”

Zoro shakes his head, and reaches for her other hand.  “That was 5000 meters of sheer rock face.  There was a down-drafting wind tunnel around the whole thing, and it was freezing.  You’re lucky your hands weren’t shredded.”  She’s lucky she wasn’t shredded.

Lucy doesn’t look like she much cared.  “They’re nakama.”  She says it like she expects Zoro to understand.

Weirdly, he does.  “How bad did you mess up your hands and feet?”

Lucy flushes.  “Uh, well, Doctorine said I cut the pads of my fingers and toes down to the bone, and I have a couple hairline fractures besides.  She claimed I probably only managed because I didn’t have any feeling in my hands or feet once frostbite set in.”

Zoro, with more gentleness than he’s willing to admit to, sets Lucy’s hand in her lap before reaching for her other one.  “Figures the one time I don’t get injured you go and do something like this.”

Lucy gasps, jumping a little.  “You’re right!  Zoro, you didn’t get injured this time!”

Zoro frowns, a little put out.  “Yeah, well.  I promised.”  He even volunteered for the relatively safe job this time around to try and keep it.  Sure, he still somehow wound up wandering around half-naked and wet for a while in the snow, but no harm no foul.

Lucy’s grin could outshine the sun.  “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Lucy seems downright ecstatic now.  “I’m really glad we went to Drum Island.  Not that I’m glad Nami got sick!” she adds quickly, “I’m just really glad we went there.  We found more nakama,” she says fondly, with a glance at the rest of the crew.

Zoro gives her a considering look, feeling unreasonably warm at the sight of her.  “You just pick people based on a feeling, don’t you?”

Lucy just grins at him, the light in her eye mischievous.  “I know special people when I see them.  Especially you, Zoro!”

Zoro will deny until the day he dies that he blushed.

It was the sun, dammit.

Chapter Text

This might be—literally—the best day ever.  Or at least, the best day in a while.

None of her nakama are sick, and none of them will ever be sick again now that they can count Chopper among them.  They’re finally in Alabasta, and the solution to Vivi’s problems seems pretty simple to Lucy, they just need to figure out the logistics and stuff.  Soon Vivi won’t have to look so sad and scared all the time.

Plus, this morning Chopper gave her permission to stop wearing the bandages.  Freedom!

And now, the best thing of all—Ace!

Her brother is here.

Minus Makino and Shanks and Dadan and Gramps, it’s everyone she loves in one place!

Ace looks older than he did last time, a bit more mature.  He has new tattoos and a funny cowboy hat and his freckles seem more pronounced.  He’s taller, a little more filled out, and apparently found a powerful Devil Fruit, so now he’s even more kickass than he already was.

But despite all the changes, Ace’s smile is just as wide as ever when he looks at Lucy, his eyes just as warm, and he wrestles with her in greeting just as he usually does, even while cheerfully chiding her for her unladylike behavior.

Lucy missed him.

And now she gets to introduce him to her nakama!

“Everyone, everyone look!”

Six heads spin in her direction.  Lucy sees relief in their faces and then tension again when they notice Ace, especially from Zoro.

Huh.  Weird.

Nami is the one who steps forward though.  She’s wearing the grin she gives to strangers.  “Lucy?  Who is this?”

Even weirder, it’s Zoro who answers that question.  “Portgas D. Ace, Second Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates” Zoro’s hands are closer to his katana than normal.  “He was looking for Lucy earlier.”

Their behavior throws Lucy for a loop.  Why are they being so defensive?  It’s not like Ace—

Oh.  Right.  They don’t know—

“Ace is my brother!”

That startles them, and immediately all six of their suspicious expressions turn to shock as their gazes latch onto Lucy.

“Eh?!  Your brother?!”  Usopp shrieks.  “Lucy, I didn’t know you had a brother!”

Ace fake-pouts.  “You didn’t tell them about me?  How disheartening.  My crew knows all about you.”

Nami’s eyes flash in a way that’s usually reserved for huge sums of money.  “I don’t suppose you have any good blackmail stories, do you?”

Ace looks incredibly amused.  “Blackmail doesn’t work on Lucy.  She’s shameless.”

Nami gives him a shrewd look, and cocks her head to the side.  “I’ll trade you.”

Lucy isn’t sure but she may have just seen her life flash before her eyes.  The accumulated blackmail is too much to consider.  Nami doesn’t even have to give Ace any real blackmail—she just has to describe half their adventure and Lucy’s antics and he’ll probably throw her in a cage for a week just to keep her from injuring herself.  “No!  Stop!”

Ace’s grin turns wicked.  “Sounds fair.”

Lucy pouts.  “So mean…”

Ace laughs, and settles one of his massive hands on her head.  “Sorry, Lu-chan.  It’s my job to embarrass you.”  Then he turns to the crew, and smiles politely.  “I didn’t catch your names though.”

Suddenly Lucy forgets the blackmail situation.  This is her nakama, and she really wants to show them off.

“This is Nami, our navigator.  She’s amazing!  She’s super smart, and she can even draw super accurate maps without taking any measurements or anything!”  Nami blinks, like she wasn’t expecting the praise, which is stupid, but whatever.  Lucy moves on.  “That’s Usopp, he’s our sniper and our liar but he does a bunch of other really cool things too!”

Ace raises an eyebrow but he continues to look amused, so Lucy continues the introductions.  She has to drag Ace a couple steps to the right so they can clearly see the rest of the group.

“That’s Sanji, he’s our cook.  He makes the best food.  He’s the best cook!  And he kicks things really well.”

Sanji gives her his cigarette smile, the one where his eyes go bright that looks kind of proud and fierce.  “Thank you, Lucy-san.”

“That’s Chopper, our doctor.  He’s a reindeer.  He’s amazing!  Sanji broke his spine two weeks ago and he’s all better now thanks to Chopper!”

Chopper squirms.  “That doesn’t make me happy, asshole!”

Ace cocks his head to the side like he has many, many questions about Chopper.  Lucy decides not to answer them.

“That’s Vivi, she’s Alabasta’s princess.  I’m going to kick Crocodile’s ass for her.”  And then maybe Vivi will come with them on their next adventure, but Lucy isn’t sure about that so she’s not going to think about it.  “And this is Zoro!  He’s my first mate, and he’s going to be the World’s Greatest Swordsman!”

Suddenly there’s a weird knot of tension in her stomach.  She wants Ace to like Zoro.  She wants Zoro to like Ace.  It feels more important that these two get along than it does for any other member of her crew.

Ace stares at Zoro for a second and raises an eyebrow.  For a moment Lucy thinks she’s going to have to kick his ass but then she realizes it’s not skepticism that’s got him thinking, but curiosity.

“Not Pirate Hunter Zoro, right?”  Ace asks.

Zoro seems a little wary of the extra attention.  “I never called myself that, but yes.”

Ace grins, and tips his hat.  “Explains how you knew me then.”  Ace looks down at Lucy, a smile tilting his lips.  “It sounds like a great crew, Lucy.”

Lucy wonders if smiling too wide can actually hurt someone.  “They’re the best crew.”

All six of her nakama shuffle with an embarrassed flush on their faces, but Lucy just soaks in the approval in Ace’s eyes.

Night falls on Alabasta’s desert, and if Zoro was one to wax poetic, he would have called it beautiful, watching the red sun descend on the sand.

As it is, Zoro is hot, sweaty, and tired, and he’s inclined to be pessimistic.  It looks ominous to him, especially considering the circumstances Alabasta is currently suffering.

Zoro is by no means the most exhausted person in their party.  “How much longer do we walk, Vivi,” Usopp moans.  He’s barely dragging his feet even with the walking cane he picked up.

“I’m tired,” Lucy corroborates, equally dramatic.  Zoro is irritable enough to not care. “And hungry.”  Her stomach moans loudly on cue, and she turns hopeful eyes to the love cook.

The love cook, for his part, looks completely torn.  “Ah!  Lucy-chan, I’m sorry, but we have to be careful with the rations.”

“Mah, she’ll be fine,” Ace dismisses with a smile and a casual wave of his palm.  He’s the only person here who doesn’t look completely exhausted.  “She doesn’t need as much as she thinks she does.”

Lucy pouts.  “But Ace…” she whines.  Ace makes a mocking face at her.

Ace is the other reason Zoro’s so tired.  The swordsman hasn’t been able to let his guard down since he showed up.  It’s not that he’s worried about Ace hurting anyone—Lucy least of all—it’s more that he can’t quite shake the feeling that Ace is evaluating them.  It’s putting Zoro on edge.

Lucy is positively gleeful that he’s here, though.  Zoro can’t blame her—it’s apparently been about three and a half years since she last saw her brother.  Zoro’s never had siblings, but he thinks he would be similarly excited if his long-lost brother showed up out of the blue.

Hah.  Out of the blue.

Okay, it is possible the desert is getting to him.

“We’ll have just enough light to make it to that outcrop, I think!” Vivi called.  If there is one person here more stressed than Zoro, it’s Vivi.  He really hopes this doesn’t end with Alabasta in ruins.  He’s not sure Vivi would survive it.

Zoro squints to see the outcrop Vivi’s selected as their campground.  It’s just a flat rocky surface with about five large stones around a fire pit, but it’s raised so it’s not so susceptible to the terrain’s shifting patterns, and there’s a ditch of some kind dug around it in concentric circles that look like they’re meant to redirect sand.

It’s Nami who asks about it.  “Was this made for travelers?”

Vivi nods, a little pride gleaming through her stress.  “Yes.  There are accepted routes that any traveler through Alabasta can take, and always end up at a safe spot to stay the night.  Our ancestors started them, and we’ve continued the practice.  Usually there’s a divining rod somewhere around these sites, or a well.”

Nami smiles at Vivi, fond.  “Alabasta’s people really try to help each other, don’t they?”

Vivi’s pride grows.  “My people love their country, and the country is its people.”  Her expression falls, suddenly.  “Or at least, that was true until recently.  They used to believe that the true enemy was the desert, that fighting amongst ourselves is how we truly lost.  Now…”  Vivi doesn’t say anymore, but the whole group knows what kind of state Alabasta is in.  Vivi is very, very close to being a deposed princess, rather than an undercover one.

Sanji and Nami share a look, agreeing without words on a plan of action.  Zoro knows that if push comes to shove, and this war can’t be stopped, they’ll make sure Vivi makes it away from here safely.  Whether she wants to or not.

“I’m sure the people here haven’t forgotten,” Nami says kindly.  Nami is always kind to Vivi.

Vivi smiles but there’s not much life in it.  “It should take about twenty minutes to get to the campsite.”

As it turns out, Vivi is underestimating them, and it only takes ten.

As usual, jobs are divvyed out among the crew.  Ace is banned from helping, despite offering repeatedly.  Nami called him a guest, and set the rest of them to work.

After dinner—which is rationed carefully by Sanji so that no one goes hungry, with the possible exception of Lucy, but she could probably eat a whale whole and still claim she had room to spare for another one—the seven of them circle round the campfire.  Zoro protests the fire at first, because if this is a well-known route it would be easy for someone looking for them to find them, but he is eventually overruled by the sudden drop in temperature.

By sheer coincidence, Zoro ends up settling down for the night next to Ace.  It’s not uncomfortable, per say, but it is a bit awkward.

That kind of throws him for a loop, honestly, because Zoro doesn’t talk much.  He’s not usually bothered by silence.  In fact, he usually appreciates the ability to be quiet in other people, especially now that Lucy is in his life—not to mention the rest of his overly rambunctious nakama.

He just can’t shake the feeling that Ace is appraising him.  All of them, yes, but him specifically.

The whole party is exhausted, and after they’ve eaten and cleaned it takes seconds for most of them to settle in to sleep.  Lucy, apparently completely unrepentant, cuts the tension between Zoro and Ace by plopping herself between them, and curling up with her head on Ace’s shoulder.  There wasn’t much space between Zoro and Ace to begin with, so despite Lucy’s tiny size she’s pressed against Zoro’s arm now too.  Zoro would move over for her but he’s already pressed up against a boulder so there’s really nowhere to go.

Zoro manages to fight down his blush, but it’s a near thing.

He’s not sure why he’s so self-conscious around Lucy today.  Maybe he’s just too aware that Ace is watching him.

And the Fire Fist is watching him.  Zoro is too experienced to doubt his instincts.

He’s pretty sure Lucy picked up on it, too.  She keeps giving the two of them funny looks when she doesn’t think they’re looking.  Zoro wouldn’t be surprised at all if Lucy chose this particular sleeping arrangement just so she could ease tension between the two of them.

“So how’s life on Whitebeard’s ship?” Lucy asks tiredly, already half asleep.

Ace looks down at her with an incredibly fond expression.  It almost feels like Zoro is intruding, and if it wouldn’t be more awkward to do so at this point, he would go find somewhere else to sleep.

He doesn’t hate Ace.  He’s just aware of him.  Zoro is happy that Lucy is happy, at any rate.

“It’s great,” he whispers.  And in a low voice he begins telling Lucy about his crew, about being the Second Commander of Whitebeard’s fleet, and about how he found his Devil’s Fruit.  Awkwardly, Zoro is forced to listen too.  He has first watch, and they’re seated too closely to tune the other boy out.

Lucy, as far as Zoro can tell, is dead to the world within ten minutes.  She held on for a long time, by her standards—she probably wanted to do more catching up with her brother.  Ace doesn’t stop speaking for another twenty.

When Ace is finally quiet, Zoro doesn’t make any move to speak.  The rest of the crew passed out almost twenty minutes ago, and so it’s just him and Ace that’re still awake.  Even the chauvinistic camel is asleep.

Zoro still isn’t exactly sure how that whole thing functions—it’s weird that a camel would be attracted to human women, right?  Like, that’s not how evolution works?

He clearly needs to sleep, if he’s thinking about this.

Ace, as it turns out, has other plans.

“You know,” he whispers, voice low and carding his fingers through Lucy’s messy hair, “I was afraid for a minute there when the ship wasn’t at the dock.”

Zoro glances at him.  Apparently, Ace is finally ready to confront him about whatever it is he’s been trying to figure out.  “Why’s that?”

Ace looks into the fire, a wry smile on his lips.  “Lucy makes friends easily, but I always worry she’s going to place her faith in people who don’t deserve it.  I thought I was going to have to explain to Lucy that some people just aren’t trustworthy.”

Zoro feels a flash of hurt, despite himself.  He knows Lucy can be too trusting.  He’s complained about it enough, both internally, and externally.  And the situation probably looked pretty bad to Ace—they were being chased by Marines, and all of a sudden the ship is gone, minus one Captain who happens to be the only member of the crew with a bounty?

From the outside, Zoro guesses it probably looked pretty bad.

Didn’t mean it wasn’t bullshit though, and his answer comes out a little more aggressive than he means it.  “Some people.  Not us.”

Ace’s smile grows warm and he turns it back on Lucy’s sleeping frame.  “Yes, I’ve come to realize.  Sorry for suspecting you.”  Ace seems incredibly fond, and Zoro has to look away again at the emotion.  “She has a way of getting under your skin, doesn’t she?”

Zoro isn’t about to answer that.  He can barely admit he’s more-than-just-attracted-to-her to himself, let alone Lucy’s brother.  “Hmm.”

Ace clearly isn’t satisfied with that though, and his next question throws Zoro off guard.  “What would you give up for her, I wonder?”

Zoro nearly chokes, because he isn’t ready to answer a question like that, but Ace is waiting for an answer and it feels like something he has to acknowledge regardless of how unprepared he is.

More than I would for anyone else.  “More than I should.”

It’s true enough.  It’s just not the whole truth.

Zoro’s not ready for the whole truth.

Ace seems satisfied though, and suddenly Zoro feels like he passed some sort of test.  “Hm.  That’s good.  I’m glad she has a crew like you.”  He brushes Lucy’s bangs back.  “Having a sister a little on the slow side makes an older brother worry.”

Zoro cocks an eyebrow.  Surely Ace knows… “She’s not as slow as she seems.”

Ace freezes and it’s the first time Zoro has seen him genuinely surprised.  Then he grins, and he looks so similar to Lucy that Zoro would never have believed the Fire Fist shared no blood with his captain.  “…I know.  I’m surprised you figured it out so fast though.”

Zoro, graciously, does not tell him he figured this out within a week of meeting her.  “She just likes to screw with people.”

There’s something pinched in Ace’s face that tells Zoro he’s trying desperately not to laugh.  “Hm.  Maybe I should say having a little sister that aggravating makes an older brother worry?”

It’s Zoro’s turn to stifle a laugh, lest he jostle Lucy and wake up the rest of the group.  He does crack a grin though.  “Funny.  I know what you mean.”

Lucy is hot, hungry, and frankly she thought deserts would be more interesting than this.

“I’m going to go look over here!”  She hollers over her shoulder at her nakama.  Lucy jogs over to the nearest sand dune and starts tripping the instant she steps off of the relatively packed sand.

“Wha—Lucy wait, where are you going?”  Nami yells.

Lucy looks over her shoulder and grins reassuringly.  “I’m bored!  I bet there’s something cool over here!”

“Something—Lucy we’re in a desert.  There’s nothing but sand in any given direction!”

“I’ll catch up later!”

“Ugh!” Poor Nami.  Lucy should really stop stressing her out like this.  Perhaps this is why Ace kept apologizing for her the last couple days?  “Zoro, go after her, make sure she doesn’t die.”

Lucy is too far away to hear what he says in response but he sounds disgruntled.

Cresting the top of the dune, Lucy does a full turn.  Nami wasn’t wrong, there’s sand in every direction as far as the eye can see.  Lucy can kind of make out a shimmer behind her that might be the ocean.  The Merry is docked there.  They were there yesterday, but now they’re here.  Weird.

There’s a dark line on the opposite horizon.  Lucy wonders if that’s the plateau ridge Vivi told them about.

“Oi.  Lucy.  We should get back to the group.”

Huh.  Zoro’s here.

Lucy turns to her swordsman, takes him in.  He’s a bit red in the face from the heat, and he’s wearing an irritable expression.  He’s been a bit touchy since landing on Alabasta.  Maybe the climate doesn’t agree with him?  Lucy thought he and Ace resolved whatever issue they were having the second night in the desert, so it’s probably not that.

Ace.  Lucy already misses him.

“Nah, I want to explore a bit,” she tells him cheerfully.  Then she spots Chopper heaving his way up the hill.

Poor little reindeer.  It’s just bad luck for him that his first experience away from a winter-wonderland was a desert.

“Oh!  Chopper!  You came too?”

The reindeer doesn’t respond, he just pants.  Poor guy.

Zoro looks grumpy.  “Can you explore with the group, at least?”

Well obviously not.  That is a path, and nothing cool ever happened on a path someone else has trod.

Woah.  That sounded almost wise.

Did she get that from Ace?

“Nope!”  She chirps and then turns to slide down the dune.  She feels Zoro’s fingertips brush her back and she knows he just missed catching her.  A big, challenging grin splits her face.

“Lucy!  Get back here!”

Wow, Zoro really is grumpy today.  He needs to lighten up.  “Gotta catch me first!”

She hears faint profanities and then the unmistakable sound of someone skidding down a sand dune after her.  Perfect!

“Ah!  Lucy!  Zoro!”

Lucy makes the mistake of turning around to check on her doctor, and Zoro takes his chance to pounce on her.  He was closer than she thought he was, dammit, and he pins her pretty easily since she is still checking on the reindeer.

The reindeer, who is in his large form, and rolling down the hill completely uncontrolled, right into her and Zoro.

“Oh, shit.”  She hopes Zoro’s thick skull doesn’t fracture her forehead.

Chopper bounces once, blocks out the sun for a second, and then everything goes black.

Lucy pouts as she shuffles along ahead of her nakama.

It’s not like she meant to get caught up in a sandstorm.  She wasn’t even conscious at the time!  And that was equally Zoro and Chopper’s faults, as far as Lucy is concerned.

But now they’re mad at her, and so Lucy sulks ahead of them while they vent.

Oh well.  Getting lost in the desert is still more interesting than what they’ve been doing so far.  Monsters only make things entertaining to a point.

She glances back at her nakama.  How long were they going to be mad at her anyway?  She just wanted to explore!

Normally Zoro wouldn’t be mad at her at all.  The desert just makes him grumpy.

Lucy doesn’t like it when Zoro is mad at her.  It doesn’t happen often but occasionally she pushes his boundaries just a little too far.  Like, now, for instance.

Zoro being angry with her makes Lucy feel anxious, for some reason.

Okay, so she knows the reason.  She just…doesn’t know what to do with it.

She likes Zoro.  As in, she likes Zoro.

Lucy isn’t sure what she’s supposed to do about it, though, because it’s not like it really has to change anything between them.  She acts like she always has, and he does too, and maybe she understands a little more why she acts the way she does around him, why Zoro occupies a particular part of her heart, and makes her feel things her other friends don’t, but she doesn’t know how to go about moving forward with it.  She doesn’t even know if she wants to try.

She likes the way things are with Zoro.  She likes that she gets to make him laugh, poke him and pester him into being less grumpy than usual, that he lets her watch over him when he’s injured.  She likes that he listens, that he enjoys listening, that she can tell him whatever she wants to tell him and he he’ll never ask for more than that.  She likes how determined he is, how determined he’s always been, to achieve his dream.  She likes how well he understands her.  She likes how well she understands him.

She doesn’t want any of that to change.

And while she thinks there are things she’d like to do with Zoro that sound nice—kissing, for one, or holding hands, but mostly kissing—she’s not willing to risk what she has for that.  She can’t be…casual, with Zoro.  Neither of them are the type to do things by half-measures.

Besides, she doesn’t know how Zoro feels about any of this, and she’s not about to ask.

So she shelves it.  Lucy had more or less decided to do that by the time they reached Drum, but now she’s had time to think it through.

Lucy knows she can be selfish, but she’s not about to risk Zoro on her own desires.

Hm.  Deserts seem to be good for brooding.  Fuck that, she’s not about to start waxing about Ace now that she’s done brooding over Zoro.

Behind her, she senses the boys are a little less hostile.  She spots a cave ahead of them, and grins as she turns around.

“SHADE!” She shouts gleefully, and whips one arm back to catch her nakama and one arm forward to drag them to the rock.

Immediately there are protests, but she ignores them.  Mostly just to irritate them, but also because Chopper really needs some shade as soon as possible.

The landing is a bit rougher than intended, and Zoro’s ire seems renewed, but whatever, they’re sheltered now.  Captainly duties fulfilled.

Then they all fall through the floor.

The cave is interesting, but Lucy would probably find it more entertaining if it wasn’t so pleasantly chilly.

Lucy flattens herself on the cool earth, because the sun is relentless in Alabasta and Lucy feels like she’s never been anything but overheated in her life, and grins up at Zoro.  “I told you exploring was the best!”

Zoro glares but then Lucy can see the moment he gives up, and he laughs.

Lucy settles back with a smile.  Mission accomplished.

Chapter Text

Fuck Crocodile.  Fuck him, and his fucking hook, and his sadism.

Lucy hates guys like him.

She’d probably kick his ass even if she wasn’t already doing so for Vivi.

And Lucy will kick his ass, just as soon as she gets out of this fucking cage.

Lucy throws herself against the bars again, and again, and again, despite the protests from Nami and Zoro.  She ignores them completely, is focused on Vivi and the way she looks exposed, her forehead crumpled and her lips parted in horror.  That bastard’s gonna pay.  Lucy’s going to make sure of it.

“FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN YOU FUCKING COWARD.”

She throws herself at the cage again, and tries to push back against the weakness.  It feels exactly like the sea does—draining, oppressive, and heavy.

Lucy has never liked the power the sea holds over her.  It’s frustrating, because she loves the sea, but it’s not in her nature to just give up and die, and the sea takes her agency away, paralyzes her.

The fact that this sea stone exists, that it can be found anywhere…it just seems like a slap in the face.

Their only hope, as far as Lucy can tell, is that she can build up some kind of resistance to the metal via repeated exposure, and then bust out of here.

“Oi, stop her before she concusses herself.  That shit burns if you hold it too long.”

Lucy vaguely registers Smoker’s voice, and ignores it—she does wonder what happens after it burns though.  Loss of feeling?  Tolerance?

She throws herself at the bars, laying a punch on one of the joints that bloodies her knuckles and makes her knees weak from the sea stone, but it doesn’t even shake the cage.

Ace could get out of here, she thinks angrily.  He could just burn it all up.

Lucy’s always admired Ace’s strength, hasn’t ever been truly jealous of it, but she wishes she was as strong as him now.

Lucy steps back, feels strength return, and winds up for another punch.

A familiar calloused hand wraps around her wrist, vicelike.

 “Calm down.  You’re not helping.”

Lucy nearly snarls.  “Let me go, Zoro.”

“I’ll let you go when you agree to stop.”

Lucy glares at him.  That was not a suggestion.  “Zoro.  Let me go.”

Zoro hesitates, then sighs and releases her.

Lucy takes her wrist back, and as a consolation for making him back down, she relaxes.

Lucy knows Zoro doesn’t like to back down.  The only person he consistently does it for is Lucy, and even then it’s only when he knows he’s gotten through to her.

“I’m going to kick his ass,” Lucy growls.  She’s mad.  She hasn’t been this mad since Arlong.  The shark bastard pissed her off more but that was a pretty high bar.

“Obviously,” Zoro agrees.  Lucy shoots him a small smile, to say she’s grateful for his faith.  Zoro cocks his head to the side, his earrings brushing his shoulder in a brash sort of way that makes Lucy want to smile more.

“Are they always like this?”  Smoker huffs.  Lucy sends him a confused look, but to her surprise, Nami seems to know exactly what he’s talking about and replies with apparent relish.

“Yes.”

“You absolute brute!  How dare you leave Lucy-san to fend for herself!”

Zoro shoots the cook a quelling glare, the wind whipping past them as the ridiculous crab speeds to the capital.

“Lucy can take care of herself,” Zoro snaps, and Sanji actually rocks back a bit.  Zoro presses his advantage.  “And she gave us a job to do.”

Sanji looks a mutinous.  Even Nami looks like she’s ready to stage a revolt.  It’s Chopper that speaks though.  “But Crocodile…”

Zoro looks forward, and closes his eyes.  He knows.  He does.  Crocodile is far stronger than anyone they’ve ever faced before, and this time she doesn’t have her crew to step in if the going gets too tough.  He’s worried, tense, and he’s almost angry with her for making him leave her like this.

But Zoro remembers, too, how Lucy threw herself at Crocodile when they were locked in that casino, how she picked him as her target before they even set foot on Alabasta.  He remembers that he’s never seen her lose, and this really is the best course of action—the only one available, once Lucy grabbed that hook.

“Lucy will be fine.  Have a little faith.”

Lucy can’t breathe, but it doesn’t matter.

Poison coats her veins, but it doesn’t matter.

She’s covered in blood, she can’t move, she has several holes in her body and none of it matters.

She remembers Vivi’s tears.  She remembers how much she loves this country, her people, how that love nearly cripples her, like she’s just barely strong enough to carry it.

She remembers the old man, his faith in the king, that if he just digs deep enough there would be life for the city he and his family built.  How he dug all night for a single pint of water.  How he gave it to Lucy, and how it saved her life.

She remembers Ace, and Shanks, who are both waiting for her, who will be disappointed if she never shows.

She remembers Zoro, angry and worried after her near-execution, and remembers promising him she won’t give up.  Not ever.

If she dies here, she’ll never be Pirate King.

Lucy opens eyes crusted shut with blood, and she can’t see a thing.

It doesn’t matter.

Lucy hits until she connects with something, and doesn’t stop until light cuts through the dust and darkness.

It starts as a rumble, deep within the earth, and Zoro’s first thought is there was a second bomb.

The rumble gets louder, and louder, and Zoro looks for the source, looks for a way to protect his nakama minus Lucy, because he still doesn’t know where she is, but there’s nothing, he can’t find it, so he stands in front of Chopper and Nami, shoulder to shoulder with Sanji, hopes Vivi has the good sense to fall backwards` instead of forwards from the tower, and prepares for the worst.

The rumbling gets louder, more violent, but the earth beneath his feet isn’t cracking, there’s no bright flash of light.

“What is this…!” Nami yelps, clinging to the back of Sanji’s shirt.

No one answers her.  A building collapses about three blocks away, and a vacuum of air whips past as earth and sand fall into the chasm Zoro knows is opening.

Then, a hundred meters in the air, higher than even the clocktower, and thrown as if expelled by the earth itself, there’s a black-cloaked man who can only be…

“…Crocodile,” he whispers.

“That means…” Usopp is crying in relief.  “That can only mean…!”

“She won!” Sanji cheers, and the broadest smile Zoro has ever seen on his face threatens to break it in half.

“She won,” Zoro agrees, and he realizes he’s smiling too.  Wide and proud to match the giddy joy building in his chest.  Nami and Chopper and Usopp are crying in each other’s arms and he can hear Vivi sniffling even from down here.

Zoro wants to go to her.  He has to go to her.  Right now.

He has to tell her how proud he is of her, how proud he is to call her captain.  He has to tell her he knew she could do it all along, that he never doubted her, even when he was worried.  He has to check her over, make sure she’s okay, he has to—

Sanji claps him hard on the shoulder, and the rest of his nakama tackle him.  Zoro is too distracted making sure he doesn’t accidentally stab one of them to finish his thought.

“Oi.  Moss Head.  Wake up.”

“Er, Sanji, I think he might be really injured.”

“…eh, he’s fine.”  Zoro feels a steel-toed boot rap sharply on his left shin. “Oi!  Moss Head!”

Zoro manages to peel his eyelids apart.  It’s like lifting concrete, and Zoro knows what that’s like because he raised an entire building off the ground today.  He sees Sanji standing above him, looking bruised and exhausted and bloody, and Chopper kneeling at his side, looking not much better.

“…what?” He’s slurring.  He probably shouldn’t be slurring.

Chopper looks concerned.  “Zoro, do you have a head injury?”

Zoro has to think about that.  He’s pretty sure he doesn’t?  He had that fight with the guy who could turn into swords, but he wasn’t a real swordsman.  “…I’m a man who can cut steel,” he remembers.

Even Sanji’s stupid eyebrows are raised now.  “Let’s leave him and Usopp, get the girls back.  We can send one of Vivi’s guards for them when we get to the palace.”

Zoro has no intention of letting any of his nakama out of his sight in the next couple days, and especially not Lucy.  He blinks, recalibrates, and shakes his head, trying to dispel the fuzziness.  “I—no, it’s fine.”  Wobblily, he gets to his feet.

Sanji looks at him skeptically.  “You sure you can carry someone though?  Nami-san is in the best shape but no one’s up to being dropped.”

Zoro frowns.  Tests his arms.  Everything aches, and his cuts sting, but he feels okay to walk to the palace.  He’s pretty sure.  How far is it anyway?

“Where’s the palace?” He asks. 

Sanji rolls his eyes, and hooks a thumb down the long stone street.  “About two-hundred yards that way.  In a straight line.”

Two hundred yards.  Zoro’s pretty sure he can do that.

“I’ll take Lucy,” he offers.  Partly because she’s the lightest and partly because he’s not about to let Sanji lay his paws on her.

Sanji scowls at him, serious for once.  “She’s badly injured.  Don’t pull this shit if you can’t actually carry her.”

Zoro bristles, but forces himself not to explode, or worriedly check over his captain.  “I’m fine.”  Or good enough to carry Lucy two-hundred yards, at any rate.

Sanji gives him a long look, and is apparently satisfied.  “I’ll take Nami-san.  Chopper, you have Usopp.”

Chopper sighs tiredly, and shifts to his larger form to better hold their heavily-injured nakama.

Zoro turns to his right, and finds Lucy exactly where he left her—leaning at what looks like an uncomfortable angle against the stone wall.  She’s covered in blood and dirt, all the more visible for her torn Alabastan robes, and Zoro is immediately concerned.

He wonders, briefly, if he really does have a head-injury.  He feels more emotional than usual.

“Oi, Chopper.  Is it really safe to move her?”  He knows not to move people with spinal or neck injuries.  Chopper lectured them all about how lucky Sanji was until everyone was nearly sick with the graphic descriptions of what can happen to someone’s broken back if it’s moved without a stabilizing brace.

Chopper nods.  “I already looked her over.  She needs medicine I don’t have right now, but she should be safe to move if she isn’t jostled too much.”

That’s good enough for Zoro.  Painfully, he squats down to scoop her up.  His katana clink at his side and kind of get in the way, but he manages to wrestle her into his hold.  She hangs limply in his arms, and he’s worried she’s got some broken limbs or strained shoulders—that was apparently still a thing that could happen, even with her rubber fruit—so he wraps her arms around his shoulders to keep her a little more stabilized, and stands.

Sanji and Chopper, not having quite so many injuries to worry about, have already gotten their charges settled, and are kind enough—or tired enough—to wait for him before setting off.

(Possibly they don’t want him to get lost going to the palace, which, Zoro knows he has a bad sense of direction, but he’s pretty sure he can walk in a straight line.)

He takes one more look around their impromptu nap area, just to make sure they aren’t forgetting anything.  Lucy’s hat is nowhere to be found, but there’s not much Zoro can do about that right now.  He’ll look for it later.

“We shouldn’t have fallen asleep here,” he grunts, going after the others.  It’s way too open an area.  Way too high-traffic.  Anyone could have found them here.  That crazy Marine lady who looks exactly like Kuina could have found them.  And Zoro is under no illusions that he or anyone else was alert enough to deal with any threats.

“We were all past our limits,” Sanji mutters.  He somehow managed to light a cigarette, even while carrying Nami.  “Once we found Lucy it was kind of…”  Sanji doesn’t finish, but Zoro knows what he means.

Once they found Lucy, it was like the adrenaline drained from them, energy spent and back up reserves gone.  Zoro vaguely remembers struggling to stay upright even as he parked himself beside their indisposed captain, ready to be on guard as best as he was able even while half-asleep on his feet.  He remembers managing to sit without looking too pained while Nami reassured Vivi, and then everything goes black.

“It was like we found Lucy and suddenly everything was safe,” Chopper muses casually.  Zoro carefully doesn’t look at Sanji, and assumes Sanji is doing the same on his end.

Chopper isn’t wrong, it’s just…well, it’s like he was telling Chopper.  They’re all independent people.  Depending on someone else so much for their own comfort goes against the grain, just a little.  Even when it’s Lucy.

“I was glad to see she’s okay,” Sanji mumbles around the cigarette, voice low.  Zoro wonders if Chopper isn’t meant to hear this.  “One of the Baroque Works members told Usopp and Chopper she was dead.”

Zoro’s head whips around.  That was…that was back at the beginning of the fight!  Usopp and Chopper fought two members outside the city!  “And you didn’t think to tell me this?”

Sanji sends him a glare.  “No.  Because I knew you’d react badly.”  A puff of smoke escapes his lips, and Zoro notices he’s careful to make sure none of it blows into Nami’s face.  “Besides, you were the one who told us to have faith in her, weren’t you?”

Zoro grits his teeth and breathes out sharply through his nostrils.  His mind feels suddenly clear, and he hitches Lucy up a little more in his arms, her head laying on his shoulder.

It’s like his body found one last store of adrenaline, one last burst of energy in response to a retroactive, meaningless fear.  His head is clearer, his senses sharper, ready to face a threat that didn’t exist, that couldn’t have been fought even when the idea was there.  He carefully places his hand so he can feel her heartbeat thrum against her spine.

She’s fine, he thinks.  She’s fine.

“We saw Lucy not long after I found out, anyway.  I knew she was alive then, and there was no reason to tell you that Baroque Works thought otherwise for a while.  It would only distract you.”

Zoro takes offense to that.  “I can fight as well as anybody, anytime.”

To Zoro’s shock and frustration, Sanji just rolls his eyes, but the look on his face is only mildly annoyed.  “Anyone would be distracted after discovering that.  Calm down.”

Zoro hitches Lucy just a little closer, his hand splayed on her back to steady her.  “After discovering what?”

Sanji sends a shocked and slightly incredulous glance at him over Nami’s red hair.  Zoro returns the look with a defiant one of his own.

“…God you’re an idiot.”

“Oi!”

“Um, guys?  These three really need to not be in a fight right now.  And so do you, come to think of it.”

Zoro immediately backs off, and he senses more than sees Sanji do the same.  It’s not long to the palace now.  Just, like, fifty stairs to the entrance.

Sanji didn’t tell him about the stairs.

Well, whatever.  Zoro checks his grip on Lucy, shifts his right arm so he has a firmer grasp on her shoulders, hopes he isn’t actually feeling a puncture wound in her back, and prepares to climb.

Just then, Lucy shifts, completely of her own accord, and tilts her head so she’s nuzzling his neck, her nose pressing into the hollow of his throat and her breath spreading across his collar-bone with each shallow gasp.

What, is she waking up?  “Lucy?”

Her eyes don’t open—Zoro would feel the flutter of her eyelashes against his jaw.  But her arms tighten around his neck weakly, and her lips brush warm and burning against his skin when she croaks a breathy, “Z’ro?”

“Here,” he tells her.  “Go back to sleep, Lucy.”

She doesn’t respond—Zoro’s not even sure she heard him—but she does relax, her whole body going limp again, clearly exhausted from the tiny effort.

Zoro climbs the steps slowly.  Sanji and Chopper are already near the top, but Zoro is both more injured than them, and carrying a more injured person.  He takes his time.  He isn’t willing to trip.

When he reaches the fifth-to-last step, he’s met with a frantic Vivi and a stretcher.

“Why didn’t you tell me you guys were this bad off?” She hisses, but quietly, like she’s afraid Lucy will wake up.  “I would have sent doctors!”

Zoro is not the person to answer this.  “You were needed with your father.  We were fine.”

Vivi still looks upset.  “I thought you guys went to a bar or something!”  She gestures to the waiting medical staff.  “Here, set her down.”

Gratefully, Zoro does.  Lucy doesn’t weigh much, but he’s probably more injured than he wants to admit and she started getting really heavy near step twenty-two.

Vivi eyes the careful way he moves with razor-sharp, almost distrusting eyes.  “Do you need a stretcher too?  Or a wheelchair?”

Zoro shakes his head.  “Just sleep.”  And probably stitches.  Possibly a blood transfusion.

Vivi apparently isn’t taking chances with her nakama anymore.  “There’s a bed in the infirmary you can use,” she snaps primly.  Zoro wonders if she’s always had this short a temper, or if this is Nami’s influence.

Either way, Zoro’s not about to protest a bed.  “…Kay.”

Vivi immediately seems to take pity on him.  “The others are already there.  Sanji and Chopper are probably asleep by now.”

Zoro nods wearily.  Whatever adrenaline reserve he was running on before is rapidly leaving him.

Vivi takes his elbow, and guides him as they walk next to Lucy’s stretcher.  She looks worse in the soft, steady light of the palace hallway.  Zoro guesses that he probably does as well.

The infirmary, probably intentionally, is not far from the entrance, and it’s barely twenty yards to the doors.  It feels like twenty miles to Zoro, but he manages to stay upright and walk unassisted.  Lucy’s stretcher is rolled up to a bed in the middle of the room, and Vivi guides him to the one next to it.

For a second Zoro stares stupidly at the bed.  He’s pretty sure sitting on it is going to hurt more than standing currently does.  Most of his wounds are on his chest and stomach, after all.

“…n’ne on th’ back, tho’.”  He mutters, his words slurring again.  Vivi’s forehead creases in concern.

“Mr. Bushido?”

The swordsman shakes his head, steels himself, and feels his barely-clotted-over wounds break as he sits and stretches himself onto the mattress.  He doesn’t make a sound though, so even though Vivi gasps as she notices fresh blood flow, he doesn’t scare her any worse than that.

Zoro can’t remember if he saw the rest of his nakama in the room.  He was watching Lucy too carefully, making sure she got to the doctors’ safe.  ‘Cause that’s what he does.  He’s the first mate.  He takes care of the captain.  Zoro would take care of Lucy even if she wasn’t pretty.  And strong.  Also, kind.  Lucy is great.  Like, so great.

Vivi’s face is hovering over him.  Zoro can tell ‘cause of the hair.

“I think so too, Mr.  Bushido.”  Vivi sounds amused.

“’thers?” He slurs.  Vivi probably knows where they are.  Vivi’s good about that sort of thing.

“They’re right here, Mr. Bushido,” Vivi soothes.  “Everyone’s safe and asleep except for you.”

…Huh.  Well that sounds…Zoro doesn’t really know how that sounds.  Zoro isn’t really aware of anything at the moment.

“Go to sleep, Mr. Bushido.”

Huh.  That was…weird.  Mostly people tried to make him get up, not go to sleep.  Vivi’s weird.  Good weird though.

“L’cy?”  He’s pretty sure she’s around here somewhere, but he can’t remember…

Someone tilts his chin to the left, and he can kind of make out the unmistakable dark spikes of his captain’s hair.

Oh, he thinks.  Good.

Zoro is dead to the world before he can register anything else.

Chapter Text

When Lucy wakes, it’s to the sound of several people breathing slowly and deeply, as if in sleep.

The first thing she thinks is there’s one missing.

The second thing she thinks is HUNGRY.

She jackknifes into a sitting position, throwing off the blankets and looking around the room.  It’s dark outside, but in the early-morning light of dawn she’s pretty sure she can make out four bodies gathered around the bed, including a head of dark curly hair leaning on the mattress and snoring.

She pokes him.

“Gya!”  Usopp yells, and then her nakama is sprawled on the floor, looking dazed and surprised.

“Usopp?  What’re you doing down there?”

Usopp sits up, and glares at her.  “You startled me.”  Then he blinks.  “Hey, you’re awake!  GUYS!  GUYS LUCY’S AWAKE.”

Most of the crew—minus her and Zoro—were relatively light sleepers most of the time, and within seconds there were four people awake and in her face.

“How many meals have I missed?” She asks her crew.  Judging by the gnawing in her belly it’s been forever.

“I can make you something!”  Sanji offers immediately.

Nami snorts, looking sleepy and disheveled.  “You’ve been asleep three days, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“We were worried about you!”  Chopper chirps shyly.

Lucy smiled at the little reindeer.  He’s just so cute!  “Three days isn’t so many.”  She’s been out much longer before.  Like with the bear.  Then she blinks.  “Wait that’s fifteen meals!”

“Why did you count five a day?” Usopp demands, exasperated.  Sanji offers her an apple.  Lucy nearly swallows the thing whole.  It doesn’t really help, but Lucy’s starving, so anything is better than nothing.

“Where’s Zoro?” She asks, noticing her swordsman’s conspicuous absence.  The last time she saw him was when she flew into Alubarna on Pell.  He looked kinda beat up then, but she hadn’t worried because, well, Zoro is Zoro.  She doesn’t need to worry.

“The big oaf was hovering, so we sent him to find your hat,” Nami tells her, rolling her eyes.  Then she looks out the window, blinking.  “Actually that was a while ago.  Maybe he got lost—?”

Lucy’s hands fly up to her head in surprise.  That’s right!  Her hat!  “Hat!  Where is Hat?”

Usopp groans.  “Nami told you, it’s—”

“—here,” a low, gruff voice interrupts, and Lucy looks to the door to see Zoro standing there, hat in hand.

“Zoro!  Hat!” She greets.  Zoro rolls his eyes and walks up to the bed.  Usopp makes room for him, stepping back as Zoro hands Lucy the hat.

“Here,” he mutters.

Lucy grins brilliantly at him.  “Thanks!”  And she presses the hat to her head where it belongs.

Zoro, she notices, seems a little tense.  Lucy cocks her head.  “Are you alright?  You’re not hurt, are you?”  Lucy hates to think of an injury that would have taken Zoro more than three days to heal from.

Zoro shakes his head.  “I’m fine.”

But Zoro doesn’t seem at ease, and so Lucy decides she needs to make sure he’s okay.  She doesn’t want a repeat of Arlong Park.

She reaches out, grabs the hem of his shirt and his hamarki, and yanks up before he can react.

He’s got several long, deep looking cuts across his torso.  Each is surrounded by deep bruising, a couple are stitched shut, and the remainder are oozing a little blood.

“Oi! What are you doing?” Zoro demands grumpily, stepping back a little out of Lucy’s reach.  The puncture wounds Crocodile gave Lucy twinge a bit as she tries to follow him.

“You weren’t supposed to remove your bandages!” Chopper cries, anxious.

“You’re hurt,” she states, but if she’s being honest, she’s seen him run around unburdened after worse injuries.  Mihawk comes to mind.  But it’s been three days already, so she’s guessing they were pretty bad before.

“I’m fine,” he grouses.  But despite the annoyed twist to his mouth, he looks more relaxed than he did a second ago.

“Okay,” Lucy decides.  If Zoro says he’s fine, he’s fine.  He wouldn’t lie to her.

Zoro studies her for a second, suspicious.  But he must see that she believes him, because then his eyes lighten to dark silver-grey, and his mouth quirks up at the edges.  “You took long enough to wake up though.  Sheesh.”

Lucy shrugs.  “Hungry.”

Zoro snorts, but he twists a little closer to her and Lucy takes it as a win.

“Vivi said she’s treating us as soon as you were awake,” Usopp explains.

“I want to cook for Lucy-san and Nami-san and Vivi-chan!”  Sanji interjects, running for the door.

Zoro—probably unconsciously—sidles a little closer to Lucy’s bed, so he’s standing between her and the opened door.  Lucy squashes the urge to hug him.  She kind of just wants to cling.  Like a koala.  She never realized how tactile she is until Zoro, until realizing she wants to touch him in ways she probably shouldn’t.

“C’mon, Lucy,” Nami demands.  “We’re going to have a bath before breakfast.  Well, real breakfast.  I think the palace cook left a cart of food for you.”

Lucy’s thoughts are, as usual, utterly and completely derailed by food.

(But Zoro, like her hat, like Shanks, and like Ace, is never far from her thoughts, if she’s being honest.)

Zoro is scrubbing the shedding fur off of Chopper’s back and trying not to think about Lucy and her various injuries when he hears it.

“Hey, where’s the girl’s bath?”

That skeevy cook!  What the hell did he think he was doing?  Aside from the fact that peeping on the girls is wrong, he’s asking Vivi’s father to help him—

“It’s over that wall!” The King answers merrily, pointing to a gap in the ceiling.

What?  But the girls are over there and the cook—

Lucy’s over there.

Lucy’s over there and the cook, the King, and everyone in this bath who is not Zoro is going to try and take a peek at her.

Dark, greedy possessiveness fills him.  No one is allowed to see Lucy like that.  No one.

“The first one who touches that wall,” Zoro growls lowly, and apparently leaking enough killing intent to stop even Sanji, the pervert, “dies.”

Usopp squeaks.  The King gulps.  Igaram mutters something about threatening the King, but it sounds more like he’s saying it for propriety’s sake than anything.  Chopper whines in terror, which would normally make Zoro feel guilty since the reindeer is the only other innocent party here, but not today.

Sanji looks like he’s willing to risk it.

Zoro stares him down, projecting as much malice as he can without swords in his hand.

Finally, the cook sighs, dejected.  “Man, sometimes your feelings for Lucy-san are a real killjoy.”

 “What are you talking about?!” He hisses.

Sanji raises an eyebrow.  Cobra turns to the cook.  “He’s kidding, right?”

Usopp just sighs.

“He’s kidding,” Chopper confirms, the traitor.

Zoro growls, turns red, and resolves to throw all of the cook’s cigarettes into the ocean next chance he gets.

Lucy’s never been to an onsen before, much less a royal bathhouse.

It’s nice, despite the care she has to take considering how much the sea hates her.  The water is warm and soothes the aches in her muscles, loosens the scabs on her wounds, makes her skin feel soft and smooth.  She tries to have a hold-your-breath contest with Nami and Vivi, but they’re both a little too tired and mature to do that.  Also, Nami insists that full submersion is pushing her luck just a little too far.

Lucy pouts, and wishes she could play on the boys’ side.  Usopp and Chopper would love to have a hold-your-breath contest.

But of course she can’t, because she’s a girl, and they’re boys, and in the bath they’re all naked.

Lucy involuntarily starts to imagine Zoro without a shirt, and is immediately grateful to the heat for already turning her skin red.

She really…shouldn’t imagine Zoro like that.  It’s not nice.  It’s like the men in Foosha.

“So, Vivi,” Nami’s smile is the sharp one she uses when she’s planning to acquire money.  “You’re a princess.  You must know some charming princes?  Hopefully ones with large sums of money at their disposal?”

Vivi looks amused.  “I haven’t attended anything resembling a social gathering in the last three years, Nami-san.”

Lucy leans forward just a little too far, and starts to slip off the underwater bench.  Nami’s arm flashes out and pulls her back up without even dropping Vivi’s gaze.  “But you must know someone.”

Vivi laughs a little.  “Really, before you guys, the only person I hung out with that was my age was Kohza.  Anyone else was a fair bit older than me.”

Nami’s expression goes sly, and Lucy experiments with the way her legs are all weightless in the water, but the parts above the water isn’t.  “He’s handsome, isn’t he?”

Vivi’s expression becomes a bit embarrassed.  “Nami-san…”

“I mean, I’m more of a brunette person myself, but he’s so passionate, and the man has excellent pecs—”

“That’s mean!”  Lucy scolds, looking at Nami with equal parts surprise and disappointment.  “You shouldn’t talk about people like that, Nami!”

Nami and Vivi look equally floored by her comment, but it’s Nami who speaks.  “What do you mean, Lucy?”

“Like, like…”  Lucy flounders, not really sure what she’s trying to say.  “Like things, rather than people.”

Both her nakama’s expressions soften, and Lucy stares them down, confused.  Her nakama are nice people, not like those men from Foosha.

“Lucy-san, that’s not what Nami-san meant.  She was teasing me.”

Lucy frowns, not really getting it.  “But—”

“There’s a difference between objectifying people, and admiring people you like and care about, you know?” Nami interrupts.  She’s leaning over the granite edge of the pool, looking limp and relaxed.

Lucy cocks her head to the side.  “I don’t…what’s the difference?”

Nami frowns a little in concentration.  “I guess…If you like someone for their personality and character, and also think they’re attractive, then that’s okay.  But if you see someone and only care about how they look, and how they make you feel, then that’s bad.”

“And also, it depends on whether the attention is welcome or not,” Vivi adds.  “That’s usually a problem women have more than men though.”

Lucy frowns.  “So the way Sanji looks at women…”

Nami rolls her eyes.  “Sanji’s a weirdo who somehow got it in his head that women are a higher class of being or something.  And yes, he has a tendency to objectify women.  But he would sooner take out his own eye with a kitchen knife than make any woman feel uncomfortable.”

Lucy thinks of how careful Sanji is to treat her in a manner she’s comfortable with, how he makes it a point to show her he respects her, and thinks maybe Nami has a point.

“It’s okay to be attracted to people,” Nami adds, an odd, calculating look in her eye.  “It’s natural, even, especially when it’s people you like.”

Lucy thinks briefly of Zoro, then flushes.  Nami’s eyes gleam.

“But it’s not nice,” Lucy insists.  And it isn’t—she would know.

“It’s not nice to act on it,” Vivi corrects, “at least, it’s not nice to act on those feelings if someone doesn’t like the attention.  Objectification is never good, but attraction is different than that.”

Lucy frowns at both of them.  Nami makes a humming noise.

“Me, I don’t mind the attention.  I like it, even.  It makes men easier to manipulate, you know?”

Lucy gives Nami a blank look.  “No?”

Nami huffs.  “The point is, I don’t mind attention.  It’s therefore really hard to make me uncomfortable.  Possible, but difficult.  Other people may have different standards though.  And that’s okay too.  But attraction isn’t a crime, okay?  You’re allowed to like boys, and like the way they look.”

“I like boys,” Lucy confirms.  Mostly just Zoro-shaped boys, but whatever.

“Never would have guessed,” Nami adds dryly.  Vivi giggles.  Lucy doesn’t get the joke.

“I do though.”  Again, Zoro-shaped boys, preferably with their shirts off, but…

“Well Vivi’s with you there.  At least when it comes to certain rebel leaders, hmm?”

“Nami-san!”

As it turns out, turning red in the bath is completely, totally possible.  Lucy doesn’t really get the joke, but Vivi is redder than Alabasta’s sunset.

Lucy is sitting on the Merry’s figurehead when Zoro finds her.  It’s nighttime, and the sea is a bit choppy.  Most everyone is inside, except for Usopp, who’s on watch in the crow’s nest.

Lucy must have heard him come up, but she doesn’t turn around.  Her shoulders are shaking, but she doesn’t make a sound.

Zoro gets it.  He misses Vivi too.

Zoro doesn’t say anything, just comes up to her side and leans on the railing to her right.  If she wants to talk, he’ll let her.  If she wants him to leave her alone, he will.

Lucy shakes a little, raises a bandaged fist to clumsily wipe her cheeks, and turns to him with a small hiccup.  “Zoro?” she whimpers.  Unshed tears shine on her lashes and her face is red and splotchy.

Then, somehow, Zoro’s arms are full of Lucy, her wet face pressed into the crook of his neck and her hands fisting in his shirt.  Her legs are wrapped around his waist and Zoro just barely manages to get his arm under her so she doesn’t fall.

“I—I—” another hiccup.  “I miss her!”

Zoro is not good at comforting people.  Especially not crying people, and especially when he’s feeling so shitty himself.

But this is Lucy he’s talking about.   Lucy, who just saved a country with her fists, who runs on cheer and enigmatic whimsy, who saved Zoro from a crucifix in Shells Town.  If there’s anyone Zoro can pull it together for, it’s her.

Zoro pats her back, a little awkwardly, and nods.  “I know.”

He can’t believe Lucy cries so quietly.  This is the first time he’s ever seen her sob like this.

Her breath hitches as she tries to get the words out.  “I—I—I wanted her to come with us.”

Zoro always knew, deep down, that Vivi was never going to choose them over her home, however much she may want to.  She’s too dutiful for that, too in love with her people.  “Me too.”

Lucy clutches his shirt a little harder and doesn’t speak for a while.

There’s nothing here Zoro can fix.  It’s just pain, and it’s the kind that can’t be fought with a sword.

Sometimes people make choices that hurt, even if they’re the right choices.

It takes a while, but eventually Lucy quiets.  Her grip changes from desperate to meek, and she’s so still and quiet Zoro thinks she might have fallen asleep.

He’s about to take her to the girls’ cabin when she speaks up, her voice soft.  “I’m glad you’re here, Zoro.”  Her fist tightens slightly around his shirt, then relaxes again, and her voice breaks a little on the words.  “I hate when people leave.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, so stop blubbering.”

A small hiccup that might be a giggle.  “I know.”

A shadow crosses the deck, and Zoro is aware of Robin immediately.

He doesn’t trust that woman at all.  He trusts Lucy and her judgment enough not to throw her overboard, but he doesn’t trust her not to stab them all in the back.

He believes her story about Lucy saving her beneath Alubarna.  He’s just not sure this is the type of woman who honors a life-debt, especially if she didn’t want to live in the first place.  The way she sometimes stares at Lucy, like the cheerful girl holds all the secrets of the universe, makes Zoro anxious—protective and territorial in a way he usually isn’t.

Robin doesn’t approach them, though he can tell she notices.  Instead she goes up to the aftdeck, and settles beneath the tangerine trees.

“Alabasta needs her, I guess,” Lucy mutters.

Zoro shifts his grip on her.  His arm is falling asleep.  He doesn’t let go.  “Yeah, it does.”

“Zoro?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad we met.”

Zoro just presses her a little closer.  “Yeah.”

Lucy really does fall asleep after that, but Zoro can’t quite bring himself to take her to bed until much, much later.

Chapter Text

Lucy knew as soon as she walked into Pub & Pies that there were people here ready to pick a fight.  This town is packed with pirates and it’s only to be expected.  Normally that kind of thing excites Lucy more than irritates her, but she and Zoro promised Nami that they wouldn’t fight, so instead of having a fun bar brawl, she pouts, eats bad pie, and Zoro drinks.

That was just annoying.

Then Bellamy walks in with a call of, “Is there a pirate bitch with a straw hat here?”

Lucy turns to the door, frowning.  She immediately senses hostility from Zoro and Nami aimed at the newcomer.

Lucy’s been called worse.  She doesn’t move and neither do her nakama, who are waiting for her signal.

Bellamy strides forward, licking his teeth as he checks her out.  Lucy is pretty sure he’s not trying to figure out if she can throw a punch or not.

“So,” he starts, pausing in front of her.  “You’re worth thirty million?”

The way he says it implies something other than piracy is involved.

Zoro growls beside her.  “What’s it to you?”

Nami looks angry, but she conceals it well, and tries to break the tension.  “You’re the guy who bought the hotel, right?”

He doesn’t answer either of her nakama.  Instead he steps up to the bar, standing next to Lucy.  He’s trying to physically intimidate her, and so he remains standing.  “I’ll have a glass of your finest red.  And get this lady whatever she likes.”  He gives her a smile that would probably be sorta nice if it wasn’t so obviously false.

The bartender looks incredibly uncomfortable.  His hand twitches like he’s going to intercede, or push Bellamy away from Lucy, but he stills instead.  “…Alright.”

Bellamy’s first mate makes his entrance while the bartender gets their drinks.  He doesn’t speak to Lucy, doesn’t even look at her, and Lucy makes a point of keeping her attention off of him.  Zoro will take care of it if he attacks.  Nami looks tense, and maybe a little resigned—she’s probably expecting Lucy and Zoro to break their promise not to fight in the next thirty seconds or so.

The bartender sets their drinks down in front of them—wine for Bellamy, juice for Lucy.  Normally she wouldn’t share drinks with a man she distrusts so intensely, but Zoro and Nami are here so she’s not worried.

“Cheers!”  Bellamy calls, falsely friendly.

Lucy paints on a smile, and raises her glass.  “Cheers!”

Lucy goes to take a sip, and when she’s momentarily distracted a meaty fist snaps out to snatch her by the knot tying her shirt together.  She’s yanked up by her chest, she wobbles in the direction of her assailant, and then something sticky and cold washes over her shoulders, chest and stomach.

Lucy looks down just in time for Bellamy to tip the remaining contents of his drink out on her head before shoving her back against the bar.

Bellamy steps back, licks his teeth and leers.

Everything goes blank in Lucy’s head, reality fizzing around the edges.

Zoro nearly decapitates him on the spot, his face thunderous, and Lucy knows the only reason he doesn’t is so she can do it herself if she wants.

Anyone who earns that look from Zoro should be much more afraid than Bellamy currently is.  “What’re you gonna do, stick boy?”

Zoro’s grip on his katana is white-knuckled.  “Lucy?”

There’s too much white noise filling Lucy’s head for her to properly answer.  Is she angry?  Is she upset?  She’s not sure.

“Wait, Zoro, we need information!”

“Nami.”

“Mister, we want to go to Sky Island.  Know anything about it?”

There’s a pause, and then a burst of laughter from all corners of the room.  It filters through the white noise as her fury rises.

Everyone in the bar is nearly crying with mirth, minus Lucy, Zoro, and Nami.  Zoro steps back between Nami and Lucy in a defensive position.  The assembled pirates are all toasting each other, making mean-spirited jokes, and Nami is slowly growing red in the face with humiliation.

To their left, Bellamy shudders in laughter.  “Haha, I can’t take it anymore!  You idiots actually believe in sky island?”

Lucy says nothing, just stares him down.

Bellamy giggles at the look, unfazed.  “Ha!  What age are you from, princess?  Only pirates who dream would believe such a fairy tale!”

Lucy has a dream.  Lucy lives for her dream.  Having an impossible dream is practically a prerequisite to being on her crew.

“I was going to tap you girls for…certain roles on my ship,” Bellamy snorts, “But dreamers just aren’t worth the hassle.”  Zoro’s grip tightens on his katana.  “Only the strong survive, you know.  In this New Pirate Era, all that matters is how much you make, and the strength you acquire.  Living your dream?”  Bellamy spits in her face.  “Worthless.”

This…this is like Shanks, and the bandit.

This guy isn’t worthy of hearing her dream.

“Well, whore?” Bellamy growls, bending over Lucy.  “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Lucy doesn’t, and Bellamy grabs a beer bottle from the counter.

“Don’t think I won’t hit a woman!” Bellamy crows.  “A woman who calls herself ‘Captain’ is asking to be slapped!”

Lucy manages to send Zoro a quick look—stand down—before Bellamy breaks the bottle over her head.

She falls to the ground on her back, limbs sprawling in four directions.  Lucy feels slivers of glass sting her cheeks, and Nami calls for her.

“Look at this bitch!  Do you spread out for just anyone?  Do you think she likes getting smacked around, boys?  Do you think it turns her on?”

There’s a chorus of cheers around them.

Everything in Lucy wants to fight.  She wants to rip Bellamy limb from limb, set fire to the remains and dance around his entrails.  She wants to do the same to the crew of men who would let Bellamy do this to someone.

But she can’t.  She can’t because she knows this trick.

It’s just like the men in Foosha, Lucy thinks.  He wants the reaction.  He craves it.

Lucy is spread out on the floor, feeling vulnerable, and then Bellamy throws another bottle at her head.  Lucy shifts just enough to avoid the glass.  Beer splashes on her face, gets in her eyes, and new cuts appear on her forehead.

Don’t react.  Don’t even look at him.

He’s not worthy to hear my dreams.

Lucy sits up slowly, clearing her mind.  Zoro is standing behind her defensively, and she can see every muscle in his back is tense with his fury.

“Lucy, Zoro, forget what I said, just kick his ass.”

I would love to, Nami.  But we can’t.

“Zoro...” her first mate’s eyes flash in anticipation, ready to demand blood.  Lucy knows he might hate her for this, but her mind is set and she stands.  “Don’t fight them.”

Zoro looks at her, fury and wrath in his eyes, his hands clenched so hard around his katana that they’re shaking.  She can taste his bloodlust as clearly as she feels her own.

“…there are things I won’t abide,” he warns, but he releases his swords and steps over to her so they stand shoulder to shoulder.

Thank you, Zoro.

“What?  What are you talking about?  Fight them!”

“Oh, I see you know your place, little captain,” Bellamy crows.  Lucy doesn’t acknowledge him, just stares straight ahead.  “You know I’m better than you and your little swordsman.  You know neither of you can beat me in a fight!  So you’re hoping pacifism will save you!  How clever!”

Bellamy throws an uppercut that lifts Zoro off his feet, but only slightly.  Lucy doesn’t watch, and tunes out the crowd of people around them.

“THEY COULD KICK YOUR ASS FROM HERE TO NORTH BLUE YOU ARROGANT DICK.”

Nami, don’t involve yourself more.

They singled Lucy out because she’s the captain.  They chose Zoro because he’s a man, and because he defended Lucy.  Nami will get out of this unscathed unless she does something she shouldn’t.

“You have such a spirited woman on your crew.  Maybe she should be captain, since it seems like she’s the only one with any spine.”

C’mon, Nami.  You’re my failsafe.

Someone from behind slams a bottle on Lucy’s shoulder, and someone kicks Zoro’s knees from behind.  Lucy hears the joint pop out of place, and trusts that Zoro is strong enough to take it.

Bellamy is still focused on Lucy, and this time he punches her in the solar plexus.  The wind is knocked out of her, but she doesn’t show it, doesn’t bend over to try and catch her breath even when her vision blacks out at the edges.

“I wonder what your swordsman would do if I took you right here in front of him, in front of my whole crew, and yours?”  Bellamy crows.  Repulsively, his crew gives their captain a loud roar of approval.  “Do you think he’d intervene?  Or maybe just stand there?  What if I let everyone in here have a go at you?”

He doesn’t move, but Lucy feels Zoro’s attention like a razor on her skin even as Bellamy throws a left hook at her cheek.  He’s wearing rings, and the gems dig into her flesh and open her lip.  Lucy returns her head to center—doesn’t speak, doesn’t focus on anything at all.

“Zoro, what is wrong with you?  ARE YOU A MAN OR NOT?”

Bellamy reaches for her shirt, for the knot that holds it together.  Nami shrieks at Zoro incoherently, and Lucy locks herself in place, doesn’t snap his finger off like she wants to.  She knows this will be over if he tries to undo the knot—Lucy won’t be touched like that and Zoro will not stand by for it—but the threat makes her burn. 

No one this brazen is doing it for the first time, after all.

“But you’re not a very shapely bitch, are you,” Bellamy muses.  He changes tactics suddenly, and his hand shoots up to grab her chin.  Zoro is thrown to the other side of the room but she can feel him paying close attention, feels his aura burn through her and straight to Bellamy.  Lucy looks past the man even as he forces her gaze up, doesn’t even acknowledge him with eye-contact.  “Good for a fuck or two, but not much more.  Only decent feature is your face.”

Bellamy raises the neck of a broken bottle in his right hand.

Do you realize it then?  That you were never winning this fight?

Maybe he does, unconsciously.  Maybe underneath all the bluster and posturing and violence Bellamy somehow understands that they behave this way because they are above him, not below.

Or maybe he’s just a violent man who hates women.

“How would it be if I disfigured it?  Maybe gouged one of your eyes out, or lopped off your nose?”

A few beer bottles and punches, Lucy can tolerate, but if anyone’s going to leave her with scars it’s not going to be this man.  He’s not worth it.

C’mon, Nami.  I gave you an out.

Lucy and Zoro can’t fight without losing, but Nami can.

The girl in question is currently restrained by the bartender, spitting profanities and reaching for something behind her back.  Bellamy presses the edge of the bottle to Lucy’s cheek.

“Maybe I should carve my name here.  Mark you so everyone knows who you bowed to without a fight.”

Lucy doesn’t react, keeps a careful watch on the amount of pressure he’s using.  She feels the edge slice her cheek, and a bead of blood drips to the glass.

Three rapid footsteps, and—

A bottle breaks across Bellamy’s face, and he stumbles back, surprised.  The shard of glass scrapes Lucy’s cheek a little as it slips from his grasp, and Nami is suddenly between them, chest heaving in rage.

“We’re leaving,” she declares, staring Bellamy down fearlessly.

Bellamy looks less than amused, and stares Nami up and down.  “Well aren’t you an uppity little bitch.”  He swaggers, like it will make everyone forget he has blood running down his face and wine soaking his clothes.  “I like girls like you though—tell you what, how ‘bout I buy you?  You look like a girl who likes money and doesn’t care how she makes it.”

Nami has the good sense to not respond, but Lucy sees her fists clench.  But Bellamy seems suddenly bored with her and waves her on.  “Go on then.  You’ll have to drag the swordsman out though.  My men roughed him up a bit too much.”

Lucy could tell them that Zoro puts himself through more pain in one training session than these men could cause in a week, but she doesn’t.  Nami goes to him immediately, and crouches down to find the best place to grab him.

Unfortunately, the beating isn’t quite over.  Bellamy’s eyes are still fixed on Lucy.  The girl waits for the final blow.

When Bellamy moves, it’s fast.  Lucy sees it all, and she’s sure Zoro does as well, but she doubts anyone else can follow his movements as he backhands her so hard she flies straight out of the pub’s entrance.  Lucy skids across the gravel almost ten meters before she stops, curled on her side.  The road rash stings.

Lucy opens her eyes just in time to see Nami jog out of the bar with Zoro in tow, dragging him by the back of his shirt.  Nami makes a b-line to Lucy, and drops Zoro next to her unceremoniously.

Lucy sits up, and Zoro pushes himself to all fours.

Nami is angrier than Lucy ever remembers seeing her.  She stands above them, fists clenched, feet apart and her face dark.

“What.  Were.  You.  Thinking?”

Lucy stands, and she still can’t quite focus on anything.  If she does, she’ll explode.

Then Nami does something she doesn’t expect.

She bursts into tears and throws herself at Lucy.

Oh, Nami…

The only time Lucy has ever seen Nami cry is that day in Arlong park.

Lucy brings her arms up slowly, so she doesn’t startle the other girl, and pats her soothingly on the back.  Next to them, Zoro stands slowly.

He’s not looking at her.

“It was a fight, Nami.  If we reacted we lost.”

Lucy doesn’t bother explaining more now—her navigator is too upset.

Over Nami’s shoulder, Lucy watches Zoro, bruised and dirty and tense.

He still isn’t looking at her.

Something twists in Lucy’s gut because this is Zoro—Zoro, who always surreptitiously checks her injuries after a fight, who is always right beside her.  Lucy wants to reach out for him, but her arms are full of Nami and she’s not sure he wants her to touch him right now.

“Ah, don’t cry, pretty girl!”  Booms a voice.  “Your friends took a beating but they won that fight without throwing a punch.”

Lucy turns around to see the man from the bar.  He’s huge, with an oddly shaped body—his hips are too wide for his chest, and he’s rotund enough that it looks like he has difficulty walking—and long, oily black hair.  He’s missing teeth, but he’s smiling at them genuinely enough.

“This new era stuff they’re spewing is crap!” He declares, and wolfs down another bite of the disgusting pie.  “The age where pirates dream, over?  What a load of shit!”  His toothless grin broadens, and declares, “A man’s dream will never die!”  He picks up a bottle of sake, and tips his head to Lucy.  “Or a woman’s, as the case may be.”

Lucy doesn’t like him.

She’s not even sure why.

His appearance doesn’t disturb her—he kind of reminds her of Dadan, in a weird way—and nothing he’s saying is…wrong, exactly.  She could almost agree with him, even.  She would if something about him didn’t make her want to break his nose.

Then there’s the fact that he’s not alone.

Lucy senses one…two…three pairs of eyes on her and the man before her.

This is deception.  Something…something about him isn’t right.

“Let them laugh!” The man crows, “Anyone who wants to be a first-rate pirate is going to encounter a time when there is no reason to fight back!”

Nami has mostly stopped crying, or at least she’s too distracted by the man to let her emotions get the better of her, and stands at Lucy’s side.  Zoro hovers behind them a few steps, but Lucy knows without looking that his back is still turned to her.

“It would be great if you could get there,” smiles the man as he wobbles to his feet.  “To sky island, I mean.”

She doesn’t answer him, just watches as he turns his back to her and waddles off, tipping his liquor up to his lips.

Nami, still a bit teary, grabs Lucy’s arm like she’s afraid Lucy will go back to the bar.  But they’re still standing in the middle of the street, and they’re covered in blood and alcohol, so she steers Nami toward Zoro and their ship.

“Lucy…” he says after they’ve walked out of town in silence, and her stomach sinks at the barely restrained wrath in his voice.  “…never make me do that again.”

And then he walks off into the forest, never once looking back.

Chapter Text

“OI.  SHITTY SWORDSMAN.  I GOT A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU.”

Zoro glares up from his tense ending stance, just as the three trees around him burst apart in a shower of perfectly sized blocks of wood.  The cook is storming up to him, heedless of the falling lumber, and he looks livid.

Zoro has a pretty good idea what he’s up in arms about.

Zoro’s pretty furious about it himself.

“Go away, shitty cook.”

A vein bulges on Sanji’s forehead, but to Zoro’s surprise, he rears back, in that cool way he sometimes does when he’s truly angry.

“Nami told us everything,” Sanji growls.  “She was crying.”

Zoro bristles at his tone, at the accusation.  Unwillingly, he remembers the bar, the way Bellamy spoke to Lucy, being so angry he couldn’t breathe, how he came so, so close to snapping and severing Bellamy’s hand from his wrist, how it would have taken only centimeters more…

It was hours ago, and Zoro is still burning.

“I got nuthin’ to say to you.”  Zoro grunts.

“Sencho was covered in wine.  Chopper had to pick glass out of her cheek.”

Zoro’s knuckles whiten around his katana.  He can picture the leer in Bellamy’s eyes as he tried to demean Lucy, can picture the way she looked, burning with resolve and something dangerously close to disdain as he threatened to—to—

Deep breath.  “I know.”

“Usopp was ready to go find them and burn them to the ground.”

Zoro doesn’t speak.

“Why didn’t you?”

Zoro returns his katana to their scabbards.  If he holds Kitetsu while speaking to Sanji about this, he can’t guarantee his reaction.  The cursed blade’s fury resonates too closely to his own right now.

Sanji is aggressive now, and he steps forward, menacing.  “I thought if there was one person I could count on to keep Sencho safe, it would be you.”

“Lucy doesn’t need anyone to keep her safe,” Zoro snarls back.  And she ordered me down.  It wasn’t the kind of fight a blade could win.

He understood that.  He really did.  He knew immediately why Lucy ordered him not to fight.  He understands pride and honor the same way Lucy does.

That doesn’t mean standing down wasn’t hard.

Sanji snaps, and throws a kick to Zoro’s chest.  Zoro blocks it with his forearm and winces a little at the force—Sanji isn’t holding back at all.

Sanji whips back to his feet, and Zoro stares him down, impassive.

“If even half the things Nami recalled actually happened…” Sanji’s face turns stone-like.  “Then you’re even less worthy to hold affections for Sencho than I thought you were.”

Zoro is sure it was all true—Nami is sneaky, but she’s not a liar, and she has an excellent memory.  “Lucy can fight her own battles.”

“YOU’RE MEANT TO BE A MAN, MOSS HEAD.”

That’s enough.

Zoro grabs the front of Sanji’s shirt, and pins him against the nearest tree and hisses, “You don’t think I wanted to fight?”  Sanji’s eyes dilate in accusation.  “You don’t think I want, even now, to go and flay them alive?”

Sanji is unabashed, and pushes against his arm.  “SO WHY DIDN’T YOU?”

“SHE ORDERED ME TO STAND DOWN, YOU DUMB COOK.”

Sanji swings a leg up, and breaks his hold, looking at Zoro with something close to disgust.  “What if it went any farther than it did, dumbass?  Would you still have let them...?”

Zoro snarls, remembers the rage he felt at Bellamy’s threats.  “Do you think Lucy would just let someone…” he can’t even say the words.  “Of course I wouldn’t just let that happen.  But she wouldn’t either.” he sighs, suddenly tired.

Sanji hesitates, his thunderous expression faltering for a moment.  “Sencho is strong…”  The blue eyes flash at Zoro again.  “I wouldn’t have let them say those things to her.”

That’s a lie.  Sanji would stand down immediately if Lucy asked.  It would kill him, and his control would probably snap, but he would.

“I didn’t want to.”  It comes out a bit more hurt than he intends, and Sanji raises his stupid eyebrows at the tone.

“If they touched her…” Sanji hedges.

Zoro’s vision flashes red at even the words, and he has to tamp down bloodlust.  “I would have peeled the muscle from their bones and cut out their tongues, orders or not.”

Sanji leans back against a nearby tree, considering him.

In his own dumb way, Sanji understands honor.  Not the same way Zoro and Lucy do, but in his own weird form.  It must be kicking in now, because he looks calmer than before.  “Man, Lucy-san gives such harsh orders sometimes, demanding a man’s pride like that.  But I would offer her anything she wished!  What a lovely, fearsome captain!”

Zoro figures that’s Sanji’s way of saying he’s forgiven.  It doesn’t actually make him feel any better.

“You should talk to her.  She looked upset that you weren’t there.”

And now Zoro feels guilty.  Shit this day sucks.

Sanji looks around suddenly, like he’s just noticing the perfectly carved chunks of wood for the first time.  “What were you doing out here, Moss Head?”

Zoro hooks a thumb behind him, to where a pile of perfectly sized slivers of wood ten meters high rests.  “Toothpicks.”

Sanji doesn’t actually drop his cigarette, but Zoro does see it slip a little bit.

Several hours after Lucy and Nami returned to the ship the crew is mostly calmed—Nami is still angry but not crying—and Lucy is now sporting several bandages courtesy of Chopper.

Sanji disappeared an hour ago, but not before plying her with a bunch of “healing smoothies,” as he called them.  They taste like chocolate, and Sanji was scared and wanted to feed her, so she drank them all.

They left Mocktown around noon.  The sun is starting to set.  Still no Zoro.

Maybe he got lost?  Zoro has a terrible sense of direction.  He usually manages to show up when he’s needed though.

She needs him.

Maybe she should look for him?

Lucy bites her lip.

She’s been worrying about Zoro all day.  Or more accurately, she’s been worrying about her relationship with Zoro.  He’s never been so mad at Lucy that he couldn’t talk to her about it.  He’s never needed time to calm down before he speaks to her.  He just does.

She’s never been worried that he won’t want to come back before.

Was what she did that bad?  She made him stand down, but it’s not like she made him watch Bellamy carry out his threats.  It’s not like she would have stood for that anyways.  That fight was about respect, not strength.

Lucy spent this afternoon explaining that to Nami, who was unamused to find out that Lucy was counting on her to end the fight the whole time. 

Honestly, Nami’s visceral reaction to this whole situation made her wonder, darkly, if her navigator was…like Makino.  Or maybe it’s just that Nami is protective of her sometimes—always has been, in her own way. 

Lucy hopes, desperately, that it’s the latter.

Over the course of their conversation, Lucy discovered that Nami understands Zoro’s reaction better than Lucy does, which is a first.  Lucy’s never needed help understanding her swordsman before.

“Of course he’s upset!  You completely unmanned him when you told him not to fight, even with that man saying those things!”  Nami crossed her arms, angry.  “Honestly, I’m impressed he had that much restraint, what with the way he…” Nami trailed off.  Shook her head.  “Anyway, you should apologize.”

The rubber girl swings herself up to the crows’ nest.  The Merry is docked right now, so there’s no need for anyone to be on watch, the figurehead is currently not connected to the hull, and…

Well, the crows’ nest is Zoro’s favorite place to nap.

Lucy leans against the railing, and glares at the sea.

It seems weird that Zoro would be angry with her for that.  Surely he understands that was how to win the fight?  Zoro always understands these things.  And why would winning a fight via stoicism “unman” him?  Zoro is very manly.  And if this is a pride thing…well this fight was about keeping their pride.  Why would winning deprive him of it?

Lucy isn’t happy about what Bellamy said herself, but…she’s never been able to hold a grudge.  At all.  And the whole thing is resolved now, they won, no lasting damage done, and so why…?

“Ah!  Zoro!  Sanji-kun!”

Lucy scrambles to the opposite side of the crow’s nest just in time to see her two most quarrelsome nakama board.

Oh.  Sanji went to find…

Gratitude and something like relief fills her, and Lucy feels a silly for worrying.

Of course Zoro wouldn’t just leave.  He’s not that type of person.  Lucy knows better.

She watches him closely.  He’s still bloody from the bar, and he’s sweaty in a way that tells her he’s been working out.  His eyes skitter around the deck before Robin says something, and he immediately looks up to the crows’ nest.

They make eye contact.  Lucy sends him a smile that he probably can’t see from the deck.

Sanji says something aggressive to him, and Zoro growls something back before stomping over to the rope that feeds to the crows’ nest.

Oh.  He’s coming up.

Lucy sits back, leaning against the rail and shuffling so he’ll have room to climb in.  Why does Lucy suddenly feel nervous?  It’s Zoro.  She’s never felt nervous or even awkward around Zoro before.  Hell, she’s never felt nervous or awkward period.

Is this because she likes him?  Is that what’s happening here?  That seems like a really unfortunate trade off.

Just then, the ropes creak and Zoro vaults over the side of the crows nest, crouching gracefully on the rail.

They share a long glance.  For once Lucy can’t tell what he’s thinking, and it makes her weirdly uncomfortable.

After a moment, Zoro sighs, and slips down to sit next to her.

They don’t speak for a while.  Lucy gets the feeling he’s trying to figure out what she’s thinking too.

The thought makes her feel a little better.  Maybe Zoro is as confused as she is.

“Nami says you’re mad at me because I unmanned you,” she tells him, figuring they may as well start with what she knows.

Zoro goes rigid, and Lucy immediately feels bad.  He grits his teeth, a growl rumbling in his chest.  Lucy hears him whisper a profanity before glancing down at her.  “I’m not mad at you.”

Really?  That’s great!  Lucy feels almost buoyant she’s so happy, like she could swim and the sea wouldn’t be able to sink her.  She nearly reaches out to take his hand before she realizes— “Wait, then why are you mad?”

Zoro looks a little lost.  Lucy feels bad—usually Zoro doesn’t need to tell her how he feels, because she already knows, but this time words are necessary.

“Those guys back at the bar, mostly.  But I guess I’m more frustrated than mad.”

Wait, still?  He’s still mad at Bellamy and them?  “Why’re you mad at them?  We won.”

Zoro’s fists clench, and then release.  He’s not looking at her.  “You know how I’m your nakama?”  Lucy nods.  Zoro is the first nakama she ever had.  Of course she knows.  She’ll never forget.  “Well…there are things that someone could say to you in particular that…it goes against my nature to let pass.”  Lucy cocks her head to the side.  “The things Bellamy said in the bar…those qualify.”

Lucy leans forward, wraps her arms around her shins and sets her chin on her knees.  “I wouldn’t have let them do anything like what they were saying.  They were weak, too, so I wasn’t really in any danger.”

Zoro closes his eyes.  “I know.  That doesn’t…” he swallows.  “I know you can take care of yourself, but I can’t hear shit like that directed at you and not do something about it.”

Lucy rocks back on her heels.  She isn’t sure she gets it.

Zoro must see that because he changes tactics.  “If someone said those things to Nami, the type of things you heard today, what would your reaction be?”

Easy.  Pulverize them.  There was a reason she made sure Nami didn’t have any attention drawn to her.

“Nami can take care of herself, but you still want to protect her, right?”

Oh.  So is that why… “Is that what you meant when we left the bar?  About not ‘doing that again’?”

Zoro flushed a little.  “I meant…making me watch someone do that to you and not do anything about it.”

Lucy frowned.  “But that’s what we had to do to win.”

Zoro shakes his head.  “I know.  I know that’s why you didn’t stop him.  I just…” a pause.  “You’re my captain.  I don’t like watching people disrespect you.  Especially like that.”

Lucy glances at him under her hat.  “I can’t promise it’ll never happen again,” she tells him.  Zoro’s expression doesn’t change.  “But…I will remember your feelings.”  Lucy sees Zoro relax, and she knows they’re okay again.

“Sounds fine.”  He reaches out to gently grab her chin, and tilts her face up to inspect her injuries.  Lucy fights down a blush, because Zoro’s hands are rough and warm and she likes it when he touches her.  “So, what?  You’re not upset about them at all?”

Lucy shrugs, careful not to dislodge Zoro.  “They don’t scare me.  And we won.”

Zoro smirks, and there’s laughter in his grey eyes.  Lucy wants to get closer, maybe hug him.  “Yeah.”

There’s a pause, and Lucy is terribly aware of the callouses on his thumb, the way his mouth looks twisted up like this.  She unconsciously leans a little closer, close enough to smell him—blood, steel, and sake, like usual, but also sweat and something strong and masculine.

She wants—

Oh.  Oh! 

Is this—are they about to kiss?  Is that what’s happening right now?  Lucy would like to kiss him but she doesn’t know what she’s doing.  Does Zoro know what he’s doing?  Lucy isn’t sure how she feels about that if he does.

Actually, Lucy isn’t sure how she feels about any of this.

Yeah, she wants to kiss Zoro, but not because he was scared and angry earlier, and not because somebody mean decided to try and pick a fight with them.

“Lucy!  Zoro!” Usopp calls from the deck.  The tension between them snaps and dies, and the moment is broken, if it existed at all.  Lucy is both disappointed and relieved.  “Dinner’s ready!”

On cue, both Lucy’s and Zoro’s stomachs rumble.  Zoro’s smirk grows wider, and his eyes flash.

“Race you!”  She calls, and they take off simultaneously, falling side by side to the deck.

Lucy ultimately wins, but Zoro later insists it’s only because she pushed him off the gangplank.

“I’ll get his gold back,” Zoro offers.  Lucy turns to him, eyes blank with her fury.

Zoro loves it when Lucy gets like this, when her whole frame radiates power and authority.  Her jaw sets firmly and her hat tips low over her face.  He’s thought before that her expression alone could raise armies, fell giants.  Normally, Zoro loves to watch her do it.

However, today Zoro needs to be the one to take care of the bad guy.  He needs to, because there’s still an anxious, tense feeling in his gut that intensifies whenever he thinks about Bellamy and the threats he made.

Talking with Lucy helped.  Seeing her, touching her, hearing her thoughts on the bar fight, it all helped calm him, dissolve the fury that kept rising.  But while he may not be willing to pursue revenge on Lucy’s behalf—Zoro doesn’t believe in revenge, and he refuses to fight Lucy’s battles for her, even if she wanted him to, in some mysterious alternate universe—he does want to be the one to go take care of this.

Lucy must see that, or maybe she just remembers their conversation from earlier, that she promised to remember his feelings, as she put it, because then her expression clears, and her frame relaxes.  “Well, if you want to.”  She turns to Cricket, a bright smile on her face.  “Zoro will get your gold back, don’t worry!”

Cricket groans again, and shakes his head as blood spurts from the wounds.  “N-no…not…not worth it.”

Zoro rolls his eyes, because that right there is a load of horse shit, and he starts at an easy jog in the direction of the village.

“Other way, idiot!”  Nami hollers after him.  She’s been in a terrible mood since he got back to the ship.  Judging from the way she berates Lucy, Zoro would guess she’s still shaken over the bar.

It’s not like he can blame her.

Zoro grumbles, and turns around.  Nami crosses her arms under her breasts and glowers.  “You’ve got three hours, do you hear?  Don’t get lost!”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up, witch.”

“DON’T YOU DARE REFER TO NAMI-SAN SO FOULLY.”

“Don’t worry, Diamond-Head,” Lucy interrupts cheerfully, a peaceful, confident air to her as she kneels next to the fallen man.  “We know what that gold means to you.  Zoro will get it back no problem.”

“But—”

“Just sit tight, old man,” Lucy interrupts again.  “Zoro’s got this.”

The faith and trust there are not unexpected things, but they catch Zoro somewhere low in his chest all the same, and Lucy’s words ring in his head all the way to Mocktown.

Zoro gave him a chance, he really did.

He walked into the bar, said “Give me the gold or you get cut,” and then proceeded to follow through on the promise when Bellamy refused.  And now, soaking in a pool of his own blood at Zoro’s feet, Bellamy lets out a low groan.

He won’t die.  Zoro’s pretty sure of that, anyway.  Zoro cut him from hip to shoulder, in a way that isn’t so dissimilar to the way Mihawk wounded him almost two months ago now.

Bellamy is pathetically weak, especially considering all the crap he was spewing earlier.  Zoro has no time for it, and no patience besides.  Especially since Bellamy started spewing more crap about Lucy right before he attacked.  Things like what he thought she’d be like in bed.  Things he apparently expected Zoro to listen through again.

Maybe it’s because he has non-platonic feelings for her, maybe it’s because he wouldn’t let that kind of shit pass in any other situation, not even for a total stranger, or maybe it’s because Lucy has always seemed so innocent of such things, untainted and unburdened in a way that Zoro wants to protect.  Either way, Zoro can’t quite let Bellamy’s words earlier go, and he knows he won’t be able to truly do so unless he confronts the man here.  That’s why he asked Lucy for this in the first place.

“You—you can’t do that!”  Bellamy’s first mate screams, the only one of his comrades to step forward.

Zoro supposes someone else might credit him with bravery, but Zoro just sees denial.  It’s pathetic.  It’s not a sign of strength or loyalty, it’s a sign of sniveling cowardice, the mark of a man who doesn’t want to admit he picked the losing team.

Zoro sends him a glare, and the first mate whimpers.

“Go bring me the gold.  If you run off with it, I’ll kill you.”

The man whimpers, nods, and runs off.

“N-nghnn—”

Zoro steps on Bellamy’s hand, grinds his heel into the fragile skin there.  Bellamy moans in pain.

“Earlier, my captain asked me to stand down, so I did.”  Zoro growls lowly.  “But if I ever hear you, or any of your crew say so much as her name again...”  Zoro doesn’t say anything else, just leaves the threat hanging, knowing that would scare him more.  “Understand?”

Bellamy whimpers, and makes a frantic nodding motion. 

“Good.”  Zoro steps off Bellamy’s hand, and the fallen captain curls around his bloody innards.

The threat is a relief to Zoro, satisfies something deep inside him.  The tension he’s been feeling since the bar dissipates with Bellamy’s acquiescence.  It’s something old and visceral, something desperate which demands he protect Lucy.  Even though he knows she doesn’t need him to protect her, even though he knows she can more than protect herself, something in Zoro still demands it of him.

Zoro’s never considered himself an especially good person.  The fact that he feels such satisfaction at Bellamy’s whimpering, and not a little disgust, only confirms that.

But even though Zoro still burns a little inside, even though part of him rages at Bellamy’s behavior toward Lucy, his honor demands he walk away now.

It’s easier than he expected.  He knows Bellamy will never bother her again.

Zoro leaves Bellamy in the dirt and turns to the hesitantly approaching first mate.  He’s offering the sack of gold and cringing away from Zoro like he’s afraid of a blow.

Zoro ignores the cowardice, and grabs the gold, hefting it over his shoulder.

“Which way to the old guy’s house?”

If Lucy ever had any doubts about her attraction to Zoro, it is gone the moment she sees his wanted poster.

In it, he’s covered in dirt, and the world around him is smoking slightly.  He has a look in his eye that speaks of bloodlust, and his earrings brush his shoulder.

It looks like the cover of one of Dadan’s cheesy romance novels, where the men are all super muscular and slightly sweaty.

Lucy didn’t get the appeal back in Foosha.

She gets it now.

Holy shit she gets it now.

Sure, Lucy sees Zoro every day, but something about the intensity of the picture, the way photo-Zoro looks into the camera, speaks of a height of emotion Zoro doesn’t usually direct at their nakama.  Something in Lucy’s brain reinterprets that look as…decidedly less violent, but still carnal.

“Lucy?  Why is your face red?”

Lucy straightens, and tries not to blush.  “Nothing!”

Nami, and everyone else, probably, gives her a weird look. “Riiiiiight.  Well, never mind, we don’t have time for this.  The Knock’em Up Current is about to hit!”

Chapter Text

They’re climbing to the sky.

Water and wind compete with gravity to shoot them up, a huge column of the sea scraping the clouds above.

Zoro knows he should be afraid, that he should be questioning every decision he’s ever made up to this point.  He isn’t, though, and he doesn’t.  He’s simply struck with a ridiculous amount of clarity, watching Lucy laugh as she clings to the main mast of their patchworked ship, and they place their lives into Nami’s hands as easily as they eat the shitty cook’s meals or listen to Usopp lie.

This is where I’m meant to be, he thinks as they ascend to heaven as alive as they were the day they were born, as they would ever be.  A step behind her, eyes wide open.

“Do you believe in God, Zoro?”

Barely been in the sky for an hour and he’s already getting hit with the metaphysical crap.

But it’s Chopper who’s asking, and though Zoro doesn’t want to admit it, he’s just as powerless against the furry little doctor as the rest of them.

Seriously, God help the poor bastard who tries to hurt him.  The Straw Hats would show no mercy—especially not Lucy, since Chopper seems to trigger every maternal instinct she has.

“I don’t know if God exists or not.  It makes no difference to me.”

Chopper looks down, which Zoro has come to realize is his ‘I’m still confused but I’m trying to figure the answer out myself,’ look.

Chopper doesn’t have the usual human facial expressions—his body language is a weird combination of reindeer and exuberant human.  Learning how to read him took some time for everyone who isn’t Lucy.

“So…what if I do believe in God?”

Zoro shrugs.  “That’s your choice—it makes no difference to me.  I’d never begrudge the people who want to believe.”  Hell, he himself has been questioning the existence of God a lot more recently, ever since he started following Lucy on her ridiculous adventures.  He’s come to the conclusion that either Lucy is the luckiest person alive, or God exists and really wants her to be Pirate King.

Either way it works out for Zoro.  If God doesn’t exist, then he becomes the World’s Greatest Swordsman and the Pirate King’s First Mate.  If God does exist, then Zoro still becomes the World’s Greatest Swordsman and the Pirate King’s First Mate, and maybe he even gets to pass on the guaranteed detour through hell for helping the Chosen One, or whatever.

“Zoro, Zoro look!  Sky food is amazing.”

Zoro looks up to witness Lucy deboning a fish in a truly impressive and somewhat nauseating flick of her wrist as she drags it through her teeth.

If God exists, He has…interesting taste, to say the least, but…Lucy is far from a bad choice for the Chosen One.

When Lucy set sail she expected to encounter the unknown, to go to places she could never dream of.  She imagined snowy plains and strange animals and even whirlpools and a hundred other things that could exist in the world, just waiting to be discovered.

Lucy never, not in her wildest dreams, thought there might be an island in the sky.

This place is amazing, breathtaking, even.  The clouds are solid, and even though she still can’t swim in them, they’re really cool, because the Merry’s oars cut through the soupy liquid as easily as they do the sea below.  Lucy nearly fell overboard trying to grab a piece of the clouds, and Zoro had to haul her back by her shorts.

But now they’re at the island—Skypiea.  It’s beautiful, with an idyllic landscape and polite, lovely people.  The food is amazing—Lucy could really get used to skyfish—and everything is prettily laid out, like the townspeople made a conscious effort to plan their city’s aesthetic.  They all wear pastel or neutral colors, with interesting script that must be their writing system on their left side.  The women all have intricate hairstyles, and the people here have wings.

It’s amazing—possibly the most incredible place Lucy has ever been.

But then things take a turn, and apparently Lucy is capable of stirring up trouble even in the sky.  But…the thing is, none of the trouble she makes is actually…trouble.

“Why are we running?” She asks Nami, half-confused, half-solemn, “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

It’s not like one of those times Lucy and Ace pulled a dine and dash.  This is just…arbitrary stuff.  Things that don’t really matter.  Things no one would ever think twice about.  That’s what they did wrong.

Nami doesn’t have an answer for her, but they’re supposed to leave anyway.

And then four of her nakama and her ship—what a way to offend a pirate!—are kidnapped and dragged to a forbidden island Conis and her father are so clearly afraid of that Lucy can’t help but feel her ire rise.  Nice people like them shouldn’t be afraid like that.  She wanted to go to that island anyway—the word ‘forbidden’ made it way too interesting to pass up—but now it’s personal, and something about the way they speak of this god makes Lucy’s mind flicker with memories from ten years prior, and a little boy who claimed her as his sister.

A little boy murdered in his attempts to free himself, by an uncaring person who thought himself God.

The similarity leaves a bad taste in her mouth, makes her a little more anxious to get to her nakama.  Then a blue beam of destruction nearly destroys her and Conis—a girl who felt guilty for leading them to what she believed to be their doom.

Lucy’s never had much patience for men who believe themselves God.

It’s genuinely kind of impressive, how fast they go from Exploring Unseen Lands in The Freaking Sky and Figuring Out How To Walk On Clouds, to trekking through jungles and human sacrifices.  Zoro thinks they might have set a record on this one.

But, oh well.  This isn’t anything too unusual for them anyway.

Zoro will admit, however, that throwing an impromptu party with a random pack of wolves is a little out there, even by Straw Hat standards.  Despite himself, he’s a little impressed at how well Robin is taking their nonsense—this is kind of her first adventure with them, after all, and they dragged her to the sky.

It’s possible Robin was quite serious when she said she didn’t care if she lived or died, back in Alabasta.  Zoro can’t think of another reason any sane person would agree to come on this particular adventure without having witnessed the absolute force of nature Lucy is a few times over.

Then again, it’s not like any of the Straw Hats are anything close to sane.

Like him, Robin seems to prefer staying on the sidelines during festivities like this.  Zoro doesn’t dance, but he does drink, and these wolves are surprisingly good at holding their liquor.  Nami seems to be enjoying it as well, and Zoro is keeping an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t do anything she normally wouldn’t, like, say, kiss the cook.

The other four members of the crew have been dancing all night.  Zoro’s kind of surprised they have any energy left.  Well, not when it comes to Lucy, but the other three have to be tired.  They all fought priests today, and climbed several thousand meters by boat.  Zoro frankly isn’t sure how any of them are even breathing at the moment.

“Sencho seems to be having fun,” Robin comments from over his left shoulder.  Zoro only realizes then that he may have been staring at his captain’s hips a little too intently while she danced.

He isn’t drunk—no swordsman is ever unaware—but he is a little buzzed.  It might be a little harder to repress certain feelings than usual, especially since the thing at the bar was only yesterday.  They’d talked, everything was fine now, especially since he got to cut Bellamy in the end, but, well.

Zoro might feel a little more possessive than usual.

“Lucy isn’t very graceful, is she?” Nami interjects, a sly grin on her face.

Zoro raises an eyebrow.  “This is new?”  That’s not entirely fair—Lucy can be graceful in the way a drummer can be graceful sometimes, and her sheer agility is second to none—but she’s far from the refined elegance of Robin or the carefully crafted facades Nami puts on to trick gullible men.  Lucy is just herself.

Zoro kind of prefers it that way.

Nami snorts.  “At least you two won’t have an idolization problem.”

Zoro coughs on his ale.  “What?”

Robin cuts in before Nami can answer.  “Are you going to ask her to dance, Swordsman-kun?”

Zoro splutters.  “What?  No!”  His face is not turning red, and if it is, it’s from the alcohol.  “I don’t dance.  And this isn’t a song where you do that sort of thing anyway.”

And at that very moment, like the universe is conspiring against him, the music changes to something slow and sweet.

Robin smiles, and it looks fake even though Zoro knows it’s not.  “I think the party is winding down.  These things usually end with a partner dance or two.”

And sure enough, all the wolves are pairing off, leaving three bewildered humans and one reindeer looking around in surprise.

Wait, why do the wolves slow dance, anyway?  Are wolves even a monogamous species?

Nami giggles, and maybe hiccups a bit.  “Oh look!  I think Sanji-kun is going to ask Lucy to dance.”

Zoro’s head whips up so fast he almost cricks his neck.

Sure enough, Lucy is standing in the middle of the crowd with a frown of confusion dangerously close to a pout on her face.  She looks like she wants to dance.  Sanji, the no-good love cook, is making his way over to her with a disgusting expression on his face.

At that moment, Zoro processes four things.

One:  Lucy wants to dance.

Two:  Sanji is going to ask Lucy to dance.

Three:  Lucy is going to say yes, because Lucy is Lucy and will think nothing of it.

Four:  Zoro does not want Lucy to dance with Sanji.

Before he really knows what he’s doing, Zoro slides off his perch and leaves his drink behind.  He hears Nami giggle, but ignores it, despite the embarrassment.

Luckily, Zoro is actually a lot closer to his captain than the cook is, and beats him to her by about thirty meters, even while dodging the dancing, bipedal wolves.

Seriously, the shit he sees travelling with Lucy just gets weirder and weirder.

It’s when he closes in on her position, gets about five feet from her, that he realizes he has no idea how to ask her to dance.

Zoro has never once attempted to do this before.  Occasionally he would get offers from girls and sometimes men in various bars, but he always declined.

Does he just…ask her?  Does he hedge around it a bit?

This is really the type of thing she would usually initiate, but she wouldn’t have asked this time because Zoro was sitting out, as is his preference.

While he’s thinking about it, Lucy turns around and spots him.

She grins.

There’s something about the way the firelight casts shadows on her face, the way her hair swishes lower than it used to—past her chin now, brushing her shoulders—and the way the freckled skin crinkles around her eyes that knocks Zoro’s breath away.

How is he supposed to ask her to dance?  He can barely think around her sometimes!

“Zoro!” She holds out her hand, enthusiastic. “Wanna dance?”

Oh.  Well.  That was easier than expected.

He takes her hand.  “I guess,” he agrees, like he didn’t storm out here to ask her that exact thing.

Lucy looks a little surprised—probably didn’t expect him to agree so easily—but then she beams and steps closer, so their chests nearly touch.  Zoro doesn’t know a lot about dancing but he is pretty sure he’s supposed to…do something.  Lead.

How the fuck does he lead?  What does that even mean?

It’s a really good thing Lucy seems just as lost and clueless as he is.  She just flings her arms around his neck, and presses her face to his chest, like a hug.  But then her elbows slide down, so her interlaced fingers settle at his nape.

That feels…different than a hug.

Zoro takes a chance and rests one hand on her waist, and the other on the small of her back, because that seems like the most comfortable place for both of them.

He didn’t mean for it to be intimate, but, well.  Lucy is perpetually showing off her midriff, and today is no exception, so his hands settle on soft, smooth skin, and it sends his heart racing, just a little bit.

“I can’t dance,” he admits.  Lucy just presses a little closer.

“Neither can I.”

The music they’re playing is a simple three-beat ballad.  It takes a little doing, but they eventually figure out they can just shuffle in a little circle in time to the music.  Zoro figures that’s about all anyone could possibly expect from him.

This is…nice.  Really nice, actually.  Zoro doesn’t initiate physical contact with Lucy often.  When he does, it’s usually because something bad is happening, like when he shared his jacket with her sailing to Drum.  He likes being able to hold her close like this, likes being able to smell the sea and wind and spice in her hair and not feel guilty because she’s crying or otherwise upset.

Jeez, she’s so tiny.  His hand spans her waist easily.  It’s hard to believe she’s as strong as she is.  Holding her like this, it feels like he could break her in two with minimal effort, but she also fits, so securely Zoro can’t quite stop marveling at it.

Lucy distracts him from his thoughts by sliding one hand down to his chest, and fingering the hair on the nape of his neck with the other.  It presses her just a bit closer, her hips shifting into his a little more intimately, and Zoro nearly stumbles at the change.  He has to adjust his hands and both end up on her back, one above the other, and it presses her impossibly closer, leaves him wrapped around her.  Lucy doesn’t seem to mind at all, and sighs contentedly.

“Hmm…this is nice, Zoro.”

Zoro coughs.  “Uh.  Yeah.  It is.”

Zoro feels her grin into his chest.  In response, Zoro rests his chin on her head, and Lucy wastes no time pressing her nose to his collarbone just that little bit more.

God, does she have any idea what this is doing to his brain?  He’s going to dream about this.  For months, assuming they live that long.

She can’t be oblivious, right?  She can’t.

Except this is Lucy, so…yeah, that’s totally possible.  She’s incredibly adept at reading people, which is why she comes off eccentric rather than loony, but due to what Zoro has come to realize was a fairly isolated childhood she has weird gaps in her social behavior and knowledge.

But what if she isn’t?  What if she knows and keeps doing this to say she wants more?  That she’s…

Zoro still doesn’t know what his feelings really mean—only that they’re not going away, and if anything they’re growing stronger.  Zoro’s not stupid.  He knows they’re not…platonic emotions.  He just isn’t sure how to distinguish between attraction and lust, and…something else.  And Zoro won’t risk his and Lucy’s relationship on uncertainty.

But now, a thought sparks in his mind, a faint hope he hasn’t even let himself consider up until this very moment.

What if she feels the same?

With the way she feels in his arms, it’s very easy to imagine she does.

Zoro doesn’t know what to do with that.  He’s never had a relationship before.  He’s fairly certain the same goes for Lucy.

More importantly—how would their being in a relationship affect life at sea?  Would it damage Lucy’s image as a captain?  He knows their nakama wouldn’t care, but what about enemies, everyone else?  Would they use their feelings against them?

Zoro doesn’t know.  He cares too much to risk it.

The song ends, and reluctantly, Zoro releases his captain.  Lucy steps back and smiles brilliantly at him.

The ache of want that clutches his chest surprises him with its intensity.  It’s like a physical need.

But it isn’t, and so he smirks back.  She takes his hand in hers and he almost pulls her close again, but he’s used to these gestures from her, tactile overtures that should have a larger connotation, that on anyone else he’d interpret as an invitation, but with Lucy it always seems like they’re delivered without intent.  She wants to hold his hand, so she does.  She wants to hug him, so she does.  It doesn’t mean anything greater than that with her.

So Zoro swallows down his impulses, his desires, and leads her back to Nami and Robin.  The party winds down and eventually she falls asleep on his shoulder, cheek stretched against his arm and mouth wide open. 

He can’t stop staring at her after Nami presses his who-knows-how-many tankard in his hand.  He catalogues the way her breath raises her bangs, the way she shuffles closer to him every so often, grips his arm a little tighter if he shifts away from her too far.

It doesn’t satisfy the ache, or the confusing torrent of emotions and rationalizations that fill him whenever she pushes their physical boundaries just that little bit more, but it’s close enough that the longing turns sweet, maybe hopeful, and he thinks I want this.  I want this for longer than tonight.

Zoro, for the first time in his memory, tries to sleep and can’t.

Chapter Text

Honestly, Lucy isn’t too sure how she got in the snake in the first place, but now she’s finally, finally out.

“Yes!” She crows, the little girl Nami brought scrambling after her.  Lucy’s pretty sure her name is Aisa.  Or something.

She looks around, trying to get her bearings.  Despite the setback, it looks like she actually managed to get to the ruins after all.  Huh.  Lucky break.

She turns, intending to go look for her nakama—particularly Nami, who seemed pretty freaked out earlier—and then sees—

Her breath hitches, her chest seizing.

That’s—it can’t be—

Lucy halfway to the prone body before she can even think.

It’s—It is—

“Zoro!”  She shouts when she closes in.  He looks scorched, like someone tried to set him on fire.  “Zoro!”

He doesn’t stir.  Terrified, she grabs his shoulders, pulls him into her lap, and presses her ear to his chest.

She nearly cries when she hears a heartbeat.  It’s irregular and thready, but it’s there.

He’s alive.

“Zoro, who did this?” she whispers, not really expecting an answer.  It’s then that she looks around, notices the other bodies on the ground.  “Who could have done this while you were here?”

One of the bodies is Robin.  Zoro is alive, and if he’s alive he’s going to be fine.  He’s Zoro.  Reluctantly, she sets him down, and goes to her other nakama.

Robin, too, is incredibly weak.  But she’s weak and awake, and that makes all the difference.

“Robin—Robin what happened?” She wraps an arm behind her nakama and supports her so she can breathe.

The older woman coughs, and Lucy winces in sympathy with the crackling wheeze that fills her lungs.  “God Eneru—he’s” Robin shakes her head, and some of the terror leaves her eyes.  “He kidnapped...Navigator-san.”

Lucy’s throat goes dry.

“She needs—she needs you.  Eneru is…more than anyone else can handle.”

Lucy feels almost frozen in her fury.  Robin hasn’t ever been this scared.  She wasn’t this scared when she thought she was going to die beneath Alubarna.

This man—Lucy refuses to call him God—he hurt her nakama.  He scared them, her brave and brilliant crew, so badly that Robin is still shaking.  He took her navigator.

Lucy wasn’t around to protect them the first time around—it’s her duty as captain to protect them now.

Lucy squeezes Robin’s hand.  “I’ll get her back.”

A faint smile curls Robin’s lips as her eyes slide shut.  “Yes, Sencho.”

It’s as she suspected—Eneru is no God, not of any kind.  He’s a man with delusions about his own power.  And maybe he’s powerful up here in the sky, but down in the Grand Line he would be less than a footnote in history.

But, it seems that his attacks on the others and his audacious language scared her navigator something terrible.  Lucy isn’t sure why this guy is having such an effect on her, why her navigator can’t stop trembling, why she looks so pale, and why her eyes are so wide in terror.  Nami can’t stop worrying, can’t seem to stop her genius brain from running through all the horrible ways this could go wrong.

Lucy takes her hat—her treasure with a thousand promises associated—and tosses it to Nami.

“Stop making such a pitiful face,” she chides.  Nami’s expression goes blank.  “You’re friends with the future Pirate King.”

And finally—finally—Nami does what she should have from the beginning.

She places her trust in Lucy.  In her friends.

And, now that she’s taken care of her nakama, Lucy turns her attention back to Eneru.

“Back home the priests speak of God,” Lucy tells Eneru, who cocks his head like he’s sure she’s about to start singing his praises.  “He’s not something of this plane.”  Lucy smirks, her fists clenching.  “You’re no god, Eneru, and you’re especially not the Almighty.  I know because you can be touched.”

Eneru nearly spits in his fury.  “I am GOD.”

“You’re a man,” Lucy counters, calm.  He’s like Bellamy, like all those people who think conquering and domination is real power.  He is beneath her and her friends, for all he might live in the sky.  “And I’m going to kick your ass for hurting my crew.”

Nami’s back, mentally and physically, and the first thing she does is agree to carry Lucy up to the bell.

Lucy loves Nami.

Her arm hurts—Lucy is sure there’s something wrong with it—but ever since she heard the City of Gold is here on Skypiea, she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the men who helped them back on Jaya, who search the ocean floor to the point of illness for a treasure they don’t know exists.

Lucy knows it exists.  Lucy knows it’s here on Skypiea, where they will never find it in the depths below.

She has to tell them.

She’s going to ring that bell, and Eneru’s too.

The gold ball is inconvenient, and painful, but it’s a blessing in disguise—Eneru gave her the tool she needs to win.

“How DARE you destroy my Advent?!” Eneru shouts.  He sounds like a child throwing a tantrum.  “You are a sinner who commits crimes against me!”

Lucy screws her arm back, twisting it so the ball will have more torque when it flies.  “ARE YOU STILL ON ABOUT THAT?”  She screams, flying toward the man so fast her eyes water.  “If you were God you could stop me.”

That enrages Eneru, and as she approaches he thrusts his molten spear.

It hits, embeds itself in her side, but the golden ball behind her is still there—she can’t feel her right hand, but she doesn’t care—and she twists her arm just that little bit more, pushing behind her for those precious millimeters of recoil.

It strains her shoulders—the ball is heavy and she’s been dragging it around for a while—and she glowers at him as the tension winds higher, higher, higher—

“What will you do?” He crows, a toddler allowed to play with matches.  “Will you fall out of the sky?  Will you try to hit the bell anyway?”

Lucy has too much adrenaline in her system to feel the pain of his trident fully, but the ache is getting worse and the constant run of electricity makes the metal hot and pricks her skin.

“You know how I knew you weren’t God, even before we met?”  Lucy grunts, thinking of the horrible blue beam of light that nearly killed Conis, the fear on her face and the fear of the Skypiean people.  Lucy leans back until her shoulder screams.  “YOU’RE NO FUCKING FUN.”  Eneru’s lips curl in disgust, but Lucy doesn’t wait for him to respond.  “GOMU GOMU NO BAZOOKA—GOLD PISTOL.”

The bell rings, and it’s the sweetest song Lucy’s ever heard.

She hopes everyone can hear it.  Maybe even God.

Zoro wakes.  Everything hurts.  Being struck by lightning is unpleasant, apparently, and has lingering side effects.  He’s a bit shaky, and he can’t quite grip as tight as he usually does.  He was totally right about occasions where he has to worry about Nami.  They suck.  He managed to cut the stalk though, so Lucy could ring the bell.

He wants to hear her ring the bell.

He gets to his knees, and Robin is nearby but she isn’t looking at him—she’s looking to the sky, an expression of wonder on her face.

“It’s not just me,” she whispers, eyes wide and fixed on the sky.  Zoro has no idea what she’s talking about.  “It’s not just me…”

“C’mon, brat, ring it.”  Behind him, the guerilla growls.

Zoro catches a glint of gold, the echo of a scream that sounds like Nami, and sees a flash of red against the dark grey of the sky.

Lightning strikes, one last time, and then—

A bell rings, clear and gong-like, and it echoes so loud and low Zoro feels it in his chest.

Zoro doesn’t know much about the history of this land, and the passion with which the people here fight over it is strange to him, but there’s something about the ring of the golden bell that makes him think—oh, that’s what this is all about.

“Beautiful,” Wyper whispers, and Zoro thinks he might be crying.  “It’s beautiful.”

Zoro can only agree.

After convening at the ship, a panicked Nami dragged a near-delirious Lucy straight to Chopper.  Apparently Lucy stayed mostly coherent right up until they both touched down, and then the accumulated injuries started to kick in.

Zoro is just surprised she managed that long, to be honest.

Chopper came out several hours ago to inform them that Lucy would be okay, but that her wounds are serious.  He hadn’t had time to talk to them much beyond that, because he had to get back to treating her.

So, hours later, the Straw Hats are collectively sitting outside the infirmary and fretting over their captain.  Sanji keeps compulsively listing what meals he will feed her when she wakes, Nami won’t stop staring at Lucy’s hat, delicately grasped in her hands, and Usopp is regaling a Robin too anxious to read with a story told a little too loudly, and not quite as outlandishly as Usopp’s stories generally are.

It’s night now.

Lucy went inside with Chopper six hours ago.

Zoro stands, and four heads whip around at his sudden movement.  Zoro supposes that’s what he gets for not moving or speaking for six hours.

“Love cook,” he calls.  Sanji’s eyes don’t even narrow.  “Make some food for everyone.  I’m going to check on Chopper, see if he needs anything.”

Sanji’s eyebrows twitch, but he doesn’t protest.  Instead he turns to the girls, to ask them what they want.  Neither give very enthusiastic answers.

Gently, Zoro knocks on the door, hoping he doesn’t startle the little reindeer. 

“Come in!”  Chopper calls, and Zoro represses a sigh of relief.

He opens the door, and pokes his head in hesitantly.  “Sanji is making dinner.  You want anything?”

Chopper looks torn.  “I shouldn’t eat while I work.”

Zoro nods.  “How’s it going?”

Chopper gives him a tired but happy look.  “She’s doing well.  If it was anyone else, I’d be amazed at her ability to even move but…” Chopper shrugs, half exasperated, half helpless.  “She had third degree burns on her right arm, where the gold ball was attached.  Most of what I’ve had to do is remove the remaining chunks of half-melted metal from her arm.  I’d normally say she’s looking at several months of recovery, but because it’s her…maybe four or five days before she’s better?  A week tops.  I finished removing the metal and I treated the burns, so now all I need to do is dress the wound in her side.”  Zoro nods, and even though he wants to stay, he doesn’t ask and turns to leave, inform the others.  “Actually, Zoro, I could use your help.  The wound is on her side so it’ll be easier if I have someone holding her up.”

Zoro is not going to turn down an opportunity to not feel useless.  “Sure.”

Chopper smiles at him, and nods to the sink.  “Wash your hands and put on gloves first.”

Zoro updates the others first, and then does as he’s told.  Then takes a deep breath and turns around.

He’s been avoiding looking at her this whole time.  She looked so small earlier, and he doesn’t want to think about her that way.   Now he has no choice, and he stands over his captain as she lays prone on the table in the center of the room.

She’s been wearing a black shirt—midriff always showing—and red shorts since they came to Skypiea yesterday, with a red bracelet and armband she apparently stole from Usopp and Sanji.  Her black hair is mussed, fanned out around her head, and her face is mostly covered by a gas mask.  It was probably there to keep her sedated during surgery.  Her right arm is bandaged from the shoulder down to her fingertips, and looks a little longer than it should be, like it’s a bit distended.  There’s also a hole in Lucy’s side—jagged, like the tip was ripped out with force.

But it’s weird—Lucy wasn’t covered in blood earlier.  Her clothes were—are—in tatters, and she looked terrible, but there wasn’t any blood.  So…

“How did her wound cauterize?”  She didn’t do that herself, did she?

Chopper’s face falls.  “I’m not sure, but judging from the burns…I think Eneru melted gold and stabbed her with it.  The continued shocks of lightning super-heated the gold.  That’s the only explanation I can come up with.

It’s a nasty wound.  Actually, this is the most seriously she’s been injured since he started sailing with her.  “…She’s going to be okay, right?”

Chopper smiled at this.  “Just give her a few days.  I doubt she’ll even have a scar from the burns, considering how well she heals.”

Zoro feels relief unfurl in him.  He slides his hands under Lucy’s shoulders and waist, and lifts, leaning her left shoulder into his chest like she’s sitting up.  The wound is on her right side, so Chopper should be able to reach it like this.

Chopper smiles at him, and reaches for a bowl with crushed paste and a pestle in it.  “Thanks, Zoro.  You’re a really good alpha, you know?”

“No problem,” he mutters, distracted by inspecting the electrical burns he sees spiraling from Lucy’s wound.  Then Zoro blinks, and processes more of what Chopper just said.  “Wait what?”

Chopper seems completely unaware of anything unusual happening.  He just spreads the paste into Lucy’s wound.  “You’re a good alpha.  You know, for taking care of Lucy and the rest of us like this.”

“I, uh…” What the hell is he even supposed to say to something like that? “That’s my job.”  Yeah, that was good enough.  He’s the first mate, he’s supposed to take care of the crew and his captain.

Chopper nods.  “I know!  You and Lucy make a really good alpha pair.  I was a little confused at first, because it seemed like you took more alpha female roles than Lucy, and that was kinda weird, but then I realized you guys just share roles evenly, although Lucy leads more than most alpha females, but that’s because she’s the captain.”

Zoro has to fight not to drop Lucy.

Seriously, what the fuck.  This is the weirdest thing Chopper has ever said.  This might be the weirdest thing anyone has ever said.

“Uh, Chopper…” Zoro searches for a nice way to say ‘what the fuck’.  “I’m not sure what you mean by…any of that.”

Chopper pauses in his ministrations and looks at him.  “Huh?  But…”  Then his eyes widen.  “Oh!  I forgot!  Humans don’t have packs!”

“Chopper,” Zoro says with extraordinary patience, “You’re a human.”

“Yeah but I’m also a reindeer!  Do you know how weird it is to have two sets of instincts when one species is prey and the other is a predator?  It’s weird!”

Which, in a weird way, that made all of this make sense—if Chopper’s brain is hardwired to form groups, like a herd, it makes sense that having human instincts would confuse his brain into trying to form a group that’s more predatory, like a wolf pack.

Zoro is so uncomfortable with this conversation.  “Yeah, I bet.  So you’ve been assigning pack designations to us?”

Chopper seems abashed.  “Yes.  I’m sorry.  It’s just…well it seems obvious!”  Zoro doesn’t really know what to say to that, and Chopper continues, heedless of his discomfort.  “You and Lucy are the alpha mating pair, and Sanji and Nami aren’t a pair but they’re both alphas.  Robin is a beta, and Usopp and I are omegas!”

This is…this is so weird.  “Wait why do you think Lucy and I are…?”

Chopper wraps the first layer of gauze around Lucy’s waist.  “Well, you are, aren’t you?”

What.  “Uh.  No.”

Chopper pauses, and looks terribly confused.  “But—you guys smell like each other, like all the time!  I guess not like you’re actively mating, but I always thought you just don’t want kids right now.   And sometimes you guys nap together!  And your pheromones—”

Oh God, Zoro does not want to hear about pheromones.  “We’re not.  Together, that is.”

Chopper looks almost disappointed.  “Oh.”  Then his face screws up, and the little blue nose wrinkles a little and says with a surprising degree of conviction. “Well then, you should be.”

Zoro nearly chokes.  “Ch-Chopper!”

“What?” Chopper sounds like he just discovered the earth is flat.  Actually, he sounds like he might cry.  “You guys are a good pair.  I feel safe with you guys.”

Oh.  “Chopper, just because Lucy and I aren’t together doesn’t mean we aren’t going to continue sailing on the Merry.”  And yeah, maybe Zoro wants to be with her, possibly, he doesn’t know, but that’s not relevant here.

“But…packs always need—”

“We’re not a pack, Chopper.”  Chopper seems utterly lost.  “Humans don’t have packs, but we do…” Zoro fumbles, and sincerely hopes no one ever discovers he said this, especially the cook.  “Humans have nakama.  And we—everyone on the Merry—we’re nakama.”

Chopper looks like someone gave him a whole new set of medical instruments.  “Oh.  So how does that work?”

“Everybody does their best, and we kick butt when there are butts to be kicked.  Like today.  Lucy usually claims the biggest butt to kick for herself, because she’s the captain.  Unless he has swords.  Then he’s mine.”

Chopper doesn’t look entirely satisfied, but he doesn’t look hopelessly lost.  “Oh.  I can do that!”  Zoro holds back a sigh of relief while Chopper finishes the wrapping around Lucy’s waist.  Then Chopper sits back and peers at him.

“…are you sure you’re not an alpha?  You’re very good at being one.”

Fuck.  “I’m sure.”

“Lucy.”

The girl in question looks up from the plate Sanji prepared for her—apparently, a girl gets a stab wound and few third degree burns and suddenly her cook redoubles his already extraordinary efforts at making her meals—and grins at her navigator.

“Nami!”  She greets.  It’s evening, and Lucy’s a little tired, but Chopper finally agreed to let her out of the infirmary.  Lucy squints at her navigator.  Actually, she looks a little pale.  “What’s wrong?”

Nami bites her lip and takes a seat next to Lucy.  The sun set an hour ago and the celebrating Skypieans and Shandrians wasted no time getting a fire started in the middle of the ruins.  Lucy sets her plate down—a sacrifice, since Sanji’s skyfish pallea is still only half-eaten—and waits for the redhead to speak.

“About Eneru…” Nami hesitates.  “…I’m sorry.  For the way I acted when he kidnapped me.”

Lucy cocks her head to the side.  As she recalls, Nami was scared out of her mind at the time and, once recovered, drove Lucy up a falling beanstalk on the off-chance Lucy would be able to punch him.  “What do you mean?”

Nami looks frustrated, and glances away.  “When Eneru beat the others…I didn’t fight back.  I even—” Nam swallows in shame.  “I even volunteered to go with him.  I didn’t want to!” She protests, “But, the incredible difference in power, between me and him, even between the others and him…I was scared.  And I didn’t really fight back until you showed up on his boat.”

Lucy studies Nami carefully.  Her navigator looks like she’s waiting for a reprimand or something.

Lucy never asked about Arlong, about what he did to her and her village, but from the things she’s mentioned herself and things the rest of the crew have let slip, she knows it was bad.  She knows that the conditions Nami lived under for eight years were very close to slavery.  Lucy’s not a doctor—not of any kind—but she can guess that leaves a certain level of mental scarring on a person, no matter how strong he or she is.

And Nami is strong—she’s on Lucy’s crew, after all.  But Nami also has one of the strongest fight or flight reflexes Lucy has ever encountered.  Nami is a survivor above all other things, and Lucy can guess how terrified she must have been, when Eneru approached her.  She couldn’t defeat him—Nami isn’t strong the way Lucy is strong—and with all other options closed to her, Lucy can guess she chose the only option she thought available to her if she was going to live.

Lucy also knows that Nami currently hates herself for that decision.

“Next time you will,” Lucy tells her easily.  Nami’s head whips around and her eyes look wide and a little shiny.

Then she smiles, a little wobblily, and gives one sharp nod.  “Of course!”

Lucy grins back.  As if she’d ever be mad at one of her nakama for not being able to beat someone.  That’s what they have Lucy for.

Chapter Text

They’re approaching round three.  Round three, and they don’t have a single point on the board yet.  They lose this, and they lose Chopper for good.

This whole contest is stupid, but after the last round Zoro at least gets why Lucy agreed to this dumb Davy Back Fight.  Trust his captain to risk everything to save some dude’s horse she met literally that morning.

It makes him weirdly proud of her, if he’s telling the truth.  Lucy’s always had a knack for keeping her eye on what’s most important when it counts.

Doesn’t mean she’s not an idiot sometimes though.

He still can’t believe she asked to be in two rounds when she can’t even skate.

Zoro squints at her while she tries to stand on the inside lane of the track.  She can’t lift herself more than six inches off the ground before losing her feet.

“No, no, use your hips more to balance.”

Lucy looks up at him through her lashes.  She’s pouting.

It’s not fair that she gets to look like that when she’s been a dumbass.

“I didn’t think skating would be this hard,” she whines.  Zoro just shakes his head.  If she doesn’t figure this out soon they’re going to lose their shot at taking Chopper back.  And, because Zoro knows Lucy very well, he’s pretty certain that’s going to mean following Foxy’s ship indefinitely until the asshole either agrees to another Davy Back Fight or hands Chopper over out of irritation.  Lucy will never demand Chopper back outright, because she’s the type to honor her agreements, but nothing in the rules says anything about her irritating him into giving her doctor back.

So, to save everyone involved the harassment, irritation, and stress of that arrangement, Zoro resolves to teach her to skate.  Or at least stand on her skates.

To be honest, he’ll take what he can get.

Lucy, apparently, has no time for his pessimism, because she’s already struggling to stand again.  “Like this?” She asks, wobbling in a painful-looking squat.  She’s sticking her tongue out in concentration.  It’s ridiculously distracting.

Zoro sighs.  “Use the toe in one foot to steady yourself, and push yourself up through your hips.”

Lucy’s forehead wrinkles, and her pink tongue pokes out between her lips in concentration.

Jeez, he’s supposed to be mad at her, dammit.  Not thinking about his recently-less-easily-repressed attraction to her.

Lucy gets about halfway up this time, before falling back on her rear.

Zoro frowns down at her.  “Use your hips more.”

Lucy scowls, and somehow that also looks cuter than usual today.  It’s gotta be something about the jersey, sheesh. “I did.”

“Not enough.”

Lucy pouts at him, and then brightens.  “Show me?”

Zoro thinks about it for a second.  Well, maybe if she figures out how standing works with his help she’ll be able to feel it on her own.  Yeah, it’s probably worth a shot.  Zoro’s pretty sure he’s a shitty teacher.

He offers her a hand, and when she takes it, he helps her balance on the way up.  They get far enough that she locks her legs with her feet spread apart, which looks pretty odd considering she’s still half-leaning on Zoro’s hand, but whatever.  She’s standing.

“Okay now just…shift your hips back.  It should be easier to balance when you bend your knees, like sitting in a chair.”

Lucy wobbles, bends one knee, and nearly topples over.

Zoro grabs her hips with both hands before she can go sprawling again, stepping behind her to keep an even grip.

Lucy freezes instantly, and she would have lost her feet entirely had Zoro not been holding her up.

“Pay attention,” he chides.  Lucy nods.  Her face is kinda red.  Weird.  “Now bend your knees, and use your hips more.”

Lucy hesitates, but they don’t have time for that so Zoro tugs on her hips a little to maneuver her into the right position.

Lucy squeaks, and nearly falls again.

“Oi, pay attention.”  That’s a little rich coming from him today, but, well, no one can call him a hypocrite if they don’t actually know he’s a hypocrite.  He is currently trying very hard not to notice how it feels to hold her like this, but he’s acutely aware of the fact that this moment is searing itself in his memory and is unlikely to go anywhere.

“Sorry,” she mumbles.  Then a little louder, “let’s, ah, try again?”

Zoro nods—not that she can see it—and, a little gentler this time, tugs her hips down and back so she’s in the correct skating position.

Lucy wobbles for a second, but then she corrects her ankle and she stabilizes.  Zoro lets go slowly, and she stays upright.

“I did it!” She crows, “Zoro, I did it!”

Zoro rolls his eyes because it’s stupid to feel proud of her when she’s been such a dumbass.

“OI, IS THIS REALLY THE TIME FOR THAT, YOU TWO?”  Usopp yells from the starting line.

Zoro looks up, confused.  “What’re you talking about?  I’m teaching her how to skate.”  This is literally the best possible time for this.

Usopp gives him a disbelieving stare.  Actually, so does every one of the Foxy skaters.  And the people in the stands.  Even Chopper is giving him a look through his sniffling.

“Robin, I don’t understand,” Nami whines, looking for all the world like she’d like to beat something with a brick.  Possibly her own head. “How can two people be so dumb in the exact same way?”

“What are they so cranky about?” Lucy queries.  Then she falls over, and Zoro wonders what it is he sees in this girl.

“Oh, Lucy.  Your hair is getting long.”

Lucy blinks at Nami from across the dining table, and then reaches up to inspect her hair.  Usually she keeps it pretty short, in the interests of practicality.  It’s not exactly long now, brushing around her shoulders, but it is longer than it’s been in years.

Huh.  Weird.  She figured with all the adventures they’ve been having there would be at least one occasion in which chopping off her hair would be appropriate or necessary.  Happened all the time in the forest back home.

“Hey Zoro,” she calls.  The swordsman peers at her from over his cup.  “Can I borrow a katana?”

Several people around the table look more than a little panicked.  “What do you need a sword for?!” Nami screeches.  She looks confused, too.

Lucy’s not sure what she’s confused about.  “For my hair.”

Nami’s eyes widen.  “You want to use a sword…?”

Lucy blinks.  “I usually just hack it off with a knife.”  Or a rock.  Or that one time where she used a shard of glass.  She turns back to the swordsman, and remembers he doesn’t like people messing with his katana.  “If you want you can just do it yourself.”

Zoro shrugs.  “Sure.”

Matter settled, Lucy goes back to her pasta.

“Uh, Lucy, I’m not sure that’s the greatest idea,” Nami says slowly, like she’s trying not to scare a rabbit.

Oh.  Matter not settled.  “Huh?”

“I know!  How about I give you a haircut after dinner?  We can even do a make-over.  Robin can help!”

Lucy glances at Zoro, bewildered.  He seems supremely uninterested in whether or not he’s going to be a hairdresser, so it’s not like Nami’s objecting because she’s worried about his feelings.

“…why would I need a makeover?”  She asks, a bit confused.

Nami’s expression changes instantly from earnest to guilty, her voice a bit softer than normal.  “Oh, Lucy, you don’t, that’s not what I…makeovers are just, you know, fun.  Girl stuff.”

Actually, Lucy didn’t.  She’s never had any female friends before.  She had Makino and Dadan, but Dadan is the least feminine person Lucy has ever met, including Zoro, and Makino the most.  Lucy didn’t really take her cues on life from either extreme.  She’s just herself.

“I’ve never participated in one before,” Robin adds.  She has that light in her eye that she sometimes does when thinking about transcribing the everyday habits of perfectly ordinary humans for future generations.  “I think it would be fun.”

Lucy gets the feeling that ‘fun’ in this case means ‘performing immersive research on the bonding and hygiene habits of females from East Blue,’ but whatever.  Robin’s weird like that.

And, well, since they seem way more invested in this than either her or Zoro are in the hacking plan… “I guess that’s fine.  Thanks anyway, Zoro.”

Zoro shrugs, and goes back to listening to Chopper tell him about a book he’s reading.

“Great!” Nami cheers.  “We can do it tonight, in our cabin.”

Lucy nods, still more than a little confused about why this is such a big deal, and goes back to devouring a pork bun.

She actually forgets about it until later that evening, when she heads to the cabin for bed, only to see Nami and Robin sitting up and chatting.

It’s not necessarily weird, but usually Nami would be dead to the world around this time, and Robin reads late into the night, possibly until her eyes refuse to move, Lucy doesn’t know.  Robin is weird.

“Oh!  Lucy!  Come here and sit on the stool, so I can cut your hair.  We’ll do that first since it’s most important.”  Nami has a pair of shearing scissors in her hand.

Lucy vaguely recalls Makino cutting her hair when she was very, very small.  Before she figured out what knives were and how to use them without stabbing herself.  It’s been a while though, and she feels weirdly off-center when she kneels on the pillow.

“Hm.  Nami, you know how to cut hair?”

Nami snorts.  “You were going to let that brute come after your hair with a katana, and now you’re worried about how it looks?”  Lucy shrugs.  Nami shakes her head but it seems fond.  “Bellemere-san taught me and Nojiko when we were young.  We started cutting each other’s hair as we got older.  Do you want it your original length?  By your mouth?”

Lucy flashes her a grin in the little mirror she set up.  She feels touched.  “Yes please!”

“Alright, alright, sit still.”  Lucy does as she’s told.  Nami’s scary on a good day, but now she has scissors.  “So neither of you have ever done a makeover before?”

“I was wanted by the world government from the age of eight and previously had no friends.”

“I was raised by bandits.”

“…that explains so much.”

Nami sounds exasperated but her fingers card gently through Lucy’s hair.  It feels nice, but Lucy is a little self-conscious, which isn’t normal for her at all.  “Hm.  I think I’ll cut it dry.  Tilt your chin down, Lucy.”

“It’s cool that you know all this girl stuff, Nami.”

“Oh, you know, you learn a thing or two here, a thing or two there.”  The scissors snip softly behind her.

Actually, Lucy didn’t know.  She spent the entirety of the first seventeen years of her life on a mountain filled with bloodthirsty Monsters of Unusual Size (MOUSes) and in a tiny little village where people mostly only tolerated her and in a deadly forest living with bandits.  In fact, Nami and Robin are the only girls Lucy has spent any significant time with who weren’t her guardians.  She always palled around with the boys.  She fit in with them better anyway, preferred roughhousing to anything else.

Lucy finds both her friends kind of odd.  She’s always been told—explicitly or not—that strength is masculine, and femininity is weak.  Dadan, after all, was the strongest member of the Dadan family, but she acts like a man 90%% of the time.  The one time she asked about it Dadan threw her into a tree and then gave her a long explanation which basically amounted to “men are assholes, and sometimes you gotta act like a man to gain their respect.”  Makino is brave and kind, but she’s not strong the way a Pirate King is strong, and she’s too meek for Lucy to use her as a role model for herself.  But that’s not the case with Robin or Nami.  They’re both strong, and they’re both pretty feminine, especially in Nami’s case.

It kind of makes Lucy curious, in a way she’s never been before, to try things she once deemed too girly.

Nami makes quick work of the hair, and soon Lucy finds herself looking in a mirror while Nami explains what she did.  It looks like her normal hair to Lucy, but a bit less jagged and a great deal more even on the sides.  She smiles up at Nami, who has her hands proudly anchored at her hips.  “Thanks, Nami!  It looks good!”  A thought occurs to Lucy.  “Oh, did you want me to try cutting your hair?”  It didn’t look long, but maybe because Nami wore her hair up so often it was hard to tell?

Nami freezes for a second, and then relaxes.  “Actually, Vivi and I both received haircuts from her royal hairdresser back in Alabasta.  You were unconscious or I would have brought you along.  I should be good for another few weeks.”

Lucy grins at her and then turns to look at her newest crewmember.  “And you, Robin?”

The archaeologist gives a small smile.  “My Devil Fruit has a useful, if mundane, application in this area.”

Lucy thinks about that for a second.

Huh.  Convenient.

Lucy turns back to the mirror.  Nami is really good at this.  She almost looks…pretty.

Involuntarily, she wonders if Zoro will like it.

“Hm?  What’re you thinking about there?” Nami asks, her voice teasing.  It’s only then that Lucy realizes she’s blushing.

“N—nothing!”

Nami and Robin share a look.

“Lucy, I think it’s time to introduce you to something called Girl Talk.”

Despite knowing, somehow, that this is a trap, Lucy can’t quite quell her curiosity.  “What’s that?”

Nami grins, and that’s the smile Lucy knows she should run from.  “It’s where you spill all the secrets that boys are too dumb to understand to other girls who can properly commiserate.”

Lucy tries to think of something she wouldn’t share with her male nakama.  Nothing comes to mind.  “Like what?”

Nami looks very close to smacking her forehead with her palm.  “Like, for instance, who someone likes.”  Then adds, “as in romantically.”

Oh.

Oh.

“I don’t think I want to talk about that!” Lucy squeaks, quickly leaning away from the redhead and her fists.

Nami rests her hands on her hips, and rolls her eyes.  “Please, it’s not like we don’t all know you like Zoro.”

Lucy freezes in place.  Everybody…knows?

“Uh, Navigator-san, I think Lucy might feel more comfortable on a different subject.”

Nami inspects Lucy, and whatever she sees makes her expression turn a little guilty.

“Alright, sorry I asked.”

“Does…does Zoro know?” Lucy asks quietly.  It’s—harder, now, to keep her feelings in check than it was.  She’s starting to get even more tactile with him, crave his attention more than before, and she wants to spend time with him constantly.  She’s starting to realize she’s maybe not as content as she thought she was with the status quo.  But if Zoro knows how she feels already and hasn’t done anything about it…maybe he’s trying to spare her feelings?  That’s kind of unlike him, not confronting something like that, but—

“He’s the only one who doesn’t, that dumbass.”

Relief and…something like disappointment collide in her chest.  That’s good.  That’s…very good.  But it’s also…well something in Lucy wants him to know.  Wants him to respond.

She thinks of how his hands feel around her waist, how they’re so broad they span her back and how warm she felt in Skypiea when they danced, how hot she felt yesterday when Zoro taught her how to skate, maneuvering her hips to balance from behind her.  She wants…more stuff like that.  She wants Zoro to touch her freely, not just when he’s worried or something.

But like hell if Lucy knows what to do about it.  Or how…any of that stuff works.  Relationships, and all that.  Lucy’s never seen one up close.

Maybe…well, is that what Girl Talk is for?

Nami and Robin are both older than her, and a lot more experienced with men.  Maybe they can help…?

“Do I…should I tell him?”

Nami blinks, clearly a little surprised.  “Do you want him to know?”

Slowly, haltingly, Lucy starts to nod, but then she chickens out and shrugs, helpless.

“I think you should be honest about your feelings, at any rate,” Robin adds, and Lucy’s never seen her so gentle.

Normally Lucy’s never anything less than totally forthright.  She hasn’t even been really trying to hide this, just suppress the urges she knows can’t be interpreted as anything but romantic.  Like when she wants to jump him in front of a stadium full of people, or sucking on the earlobe with the earrings.

Really, was that the best way to teach her how to skate?  She’s going to dream about that.  A lot.  She can still feel how heavy and warm his palms felt against her skin.  He’d been so much more confident here on Long Ring than before, on Skypiea, or any other occasion where his hands have brushed against her waist.  Also?  Lucy was not expecting to like being manhandled.  She does though.  She definitely does, as long as it’s Zoro—

“Okay, I do not want to know what you’re thinking about right now,” Nami interjects.  Lucy realizes she zoned out a little, and thinks to hell with it, it’s not like they don’t already know.

“I don’t know how to…do this.  Tell him.  I—is it okay if—what if he doesn’t like me back and we can’t even be friends?”

Nami and Robin share a look that Lucy would read as exasperated under any other circumstances.

“I think no matter what happens you guys will be friends.  But usually it’s best to get emotions like that out in the open.”

Lucy frowns, and looks back at the mirror.  “I’m not…I’m not like you guys though.  I’m not, like, girly and stuff.  I don’t know how to be.  I don’t want to be.  What if Zoro—”

“Oi.  Lucy.  Can you really see Zoro going for someone like us?”

Lucy glances between them sheepishly, and shrugs.  The truth is, yes, she can, but she doesn’t like the idea of Zoro with anyone who isn’t her, so…

Nami sighs.  “Trust me, Zoro’s not into our types of girl.  Just…trust me on that one.  You’re fine as you are.”

“I don’t like dresses,” Lucy confesses.  “Or skirts.”

“I think Swordsman-san is unlikely to care.”

That’s true.  Zoro doesn’t really seem to care about that sort of thing.  Plus, fighting in a skirt seems hard.

“How do you fight in a skirt?” Lucy asks her nakama.

Nami rolls her eyes, and Robin chuckles.  “Not all of us expect to get in a fight everyday,” the redhead snaps.

True.  That sounds boring though.

“It really just takes some practiced maneuvering,” Robin explains, smile on her face.  “Plus, our fighting styles are far less reliant on range of motion than yours.”

Lucy’s still a bit confused as to why anyone would willingly fight in a skirt.  “But...what if you need to kick someone?”

“Kick them fast and they won’t see anything.”

“Wouldn’t wearing pants be easier?”

Nami shrugs.  “But I want to look cute.”

Well…okay then.  Lucy still doesn’t get it.  “I don’t want to wear a skirt.”

“No one’s forcing you into a skirt, dumbass.”

“Good.”

“I am going to make you wear a nice shirt though.”

What? “Why?”

“It’s part of the makeover!”

There’s a gleam in Nami’s eye that makes Lucy suddenly regret agreeing to any of this.

Chapter Text

Lucy lost.

Lucy lost so badly she’s not sure why she’s alive right now.  Why did the Marine guy spare her?  She didn’t even hold her own against him, so killing her and collecting the bounty would’ve been easy.

It’s funny, but a few months ago, Lucy’s not sure she would have been able to recognize how outclassed she was.  She hadn’t been as strong then as she is now, and despite all that improvement, the gulf between her current level and the top is still wide.

Losing…sucked.  It stung.  It’s not like this is the first time Lucy’s lost a fight—Ace’s perfect win record could attest to that—but it is the first time she’s lost an important fight, where her nakama’s lives were on the line, and this time she can’t even go after him again like she did with Crocodile.

She wouldn’t win anyway.  Their current difference in power is too great.  She would still fight him regardless, but the only reason she’s alive and her nakama safe is because someone else decided to be merciful, and that’s just…

Unacceptable.

In that fight the main problem was her reaction times—she was way too slow for the ice guy by half, and even when she did manage to land a hit, she didn’t deal damage.  If she’s going to be fighting guys like him in the future—and she almost certainly will—she’s going to need to figure out how to be faster, stronger.

Lucy glares at the sea from Merry’s stern.  There are things she discovered as a kid when she was experimenting with her abilities—most importantly, the sensitivity and accuracy of her control.  Most of the time, her skin has the same texture and elasticity of a normal human’s—or at least it does now that she’s perfected her unconscious control.  That changes if her life is being threatened—no bullets are ever going to pierce her because she was caught unawares—or if she consciously wills it to change.

But that doesn’t mean she’s limited to extending her limbs and torso as units.  If she really tries, she can stretch individual blood vessels, even capillaries, and Lucy is pretty certain it extends to a cellular level too, but she’s never tried to give herself a tumor to check.  It’s pretty uncomfortable, but she can do the blood vessel thing.  She gets muscle cramps afterwards though.

Lucy sits up.  Looks at her hands, and tilts her head.

Will that work?  Given everything she knows about rubber, and the way people’s bodies work…

Lucy finds Chopper in the infirmary.  Robin still has yet to fully recover, and he’s looking after her.

“Chopper, I have something to ask you.”

The little reindeer looks concerned.  “Yes, Lucy?  Does anything hurt?”

Lucy shakes her head.  “It’s not that.”  Lucy sits down across from her ship doctor, and for once doesn’t smile or tease him.  “I need you to tell me everything you know about how the body works”

Lucy always hated goodbyes.

Leaving is always worse when she’s the one left behind, but she knows there’s a special kind of pain associated with leaving someone she wants to take with her.

Lucy wants to take the Merry with her.

The Merry is a good ship.  The best ship.  She’s sailed over mountains and through winter wonderlands, nearly fallen into a nest of Sea Kings and flown in the sky.  She’s carried them from shore to shore, heedless of difficulty or impossibility, safely and without fail for almost four months now.  She’s been their home, their safe harbor, their place of rest.  Nothing could touch them aboard the Merry.  Even as she developed deeper, more troubling scars, she still felt warm and lovely to them.

But, ships don’t grow.  Not like people do.  When a ship breaks, she can’t always be put back together.

The man at the shipyard scoffed at her, earlier.  You call yourself a captain?

Usually, when Lucy hears those words, someone is complaining about her gender.  It was rarer that someone made a comment about her captaincy that held legitimate criticism.

How could she call herself a captain if she ran her ship into the ocean floor, endangering all her friends in the process?  How could she call herself a friend if she asked the Merry to go until she couldn’t help them any longer?  If the Merry loves them—and Lucy believes she does—then wouldn’t that be more painful for her, to watch them all drown?

Above all things, Lucy must care for her crew.  The Merry is part of her nakama.  To neglect her in such a way…no wonder the shipwright scoffed at her today.

It would be better, kinder, and safer for everyone to lay her to rest here at Water 7, where the Merry could watch beautiful ships pass through the harbor as they sail off to new adventures, and know she carried her crew farther and more fantastically than any other possibly could.

“About the ship,” she says.  She isn’t using more than a normal speaking voice, but she knows Zoro, Sanji, and Chopper hear her anyway.  “…I’ve made a decision.”

“Don’t underestimate me, Lucy!  This is a fight for a man’s pride, and the Merry!  Don’t think I’m like everyone else you’ve faced!”

Zoro wants to hit him.

Of course you’re not, you ungrateful dumbass.  You’re supposed to be on our side, on her side, not challenging her for the ship.  She loves you.

Lucy doesn’t say anything—hasn’t been speaking much at all since the fight this evening.  She throws a punch and ducks around a few caltrops, trying to get closer.

Zoro will give Usopp credit—he’s putting up a fight, and he certainly made this as inconvenient for Lucy as possible.  Darkly, he wonders if the sniper is just trying to draw out everyone’s torment as long as possible, like the dramatic climax in one of his stories.

Zoro can’t help it—he’s angry at Usopp.  He’s angry at him for being so self-centered that he can’t see they don’t think less of him because he has different skills, he’s angry at him for being short-sighted, for thinking any of them would leave the Merry behind if they had any alternative.  He’s angry because of the things Usopp shouted at Lucy, things that should never be said by a friend.

He’s angry because they’re already losing the Merry, they’re still not sure where Robin is, and it’s a terrible blow to them all to realize they’ve lost another friend too.

Zoro’s not saying Lucy’s entirely innocent in the current situation.  She lost her temper when Usopp questioned her captaincy, and started to say things she didn’t mean.  But from the beginning, her actions were all intended to protect Usopp and his feelings.  Usopp did not offer her—or any of them—the same consideration.

How dare he leave.  How dare he just throw their friendship away like that, like it meant nothing to him.  Their only bond?  What about the months of camaraderie and trust and triumph?

Usopp ignites a cloud of gas around Lucy, and it lights up the night, rocks the Merry with its force.  Zoro is unconcerned, but he watches the clouds for Lucy’s silhouette until it appears. 

There is…little to no chance of Usopp beating Lucy.  He had to have known that when he made the challenge, when he left.  So how could he, knowing that, just…waste their bonds like that?

Zoro understands pride, and he understands honor, which is why he knows that, even if Usopp truly wanted to leave, he never needed to call Lucy to a duel like he did.

This isn’t Usopp satisfying honor.  This is Usopp assuaging his misplaced feelings of impotence and shame, fueled by grief, by taking it out on his friends and especially on Lucy.  It’s not fair to any of them, and Zoro can’t believe Usopp is going quite this far.

Lucy, in the interests of honoring the duel and respecting Usopp’s request, is not holding back on him.  Her hits are connecting, and even though she’s using non-lethal amounts of force, she isn’t playing with him.

That’s good, because Zoro would be angry with her if she did.

Still, he can read the way this tears at her in every line of her frame.  She doesn’t want to do this, not at all, but she does because Usopp asked her to, because sometimes kindness is not pity or care, but respect offered as an equal.  That’s why Lucy is doing this right now, out of respect for the friendship they share.

Shared.

Lucy ends it, finally, the painful motions of the fight ceasing as Usopp crumples to the ground.  Lucy soon follows, but her collapse is not out of defeat—rather, it’s horror.

“It’s decided then,” he whispers to the others.  It’s mostly for Nami and Chopper’s sake.

She stands after a moment, apparently composed enough to return to the ship.

“You can do whatever you like with the Merry,” she tells him.  “We’ll buy a new ship, and go on to new seas ahead.”  A pause, and as she approaches, Zoro can see her lower lip wobble, and her voice cracks a little when she says, “Goodbye, Usopp.  It’s been fun.”

Zoro watches her carefully as she comes nearer.  He can’t see her face—she’s using the hat to conceal it—but he sees her hands shaking.

Lucy hates when people leave.  Zoro can’t imagine what pushing away someone she cares about must feel like for her.

Part of him wants to reach out and comfort her, or at least let her cry on his shoulder, help her wipe the soot from her skin.  But half the reason they’re in this mess is because Usopp didn’t respect her decision as a captain, because he couldn’t accept the decision coming from her.  What Lucy needs right now is a first mate to remind her to be captain, not a friend to remind her to be human.

“It’s hard…” she whimpers.  Zoro’s quite certain only he was meant to hear it, if anyone was at all.

He can see the toll this is taking on her, walking away from Usopp like this.  Because he knows her, he knows she wants to run back to him, she wants to tell him he’s forgiven if he wants to be and that this doesn’t have to be the end of their time together.

But this crew isn’t just a group of friends.  They’re pirates.  And Lucy is the captain.

“That’s what being captain is.”  He says it almost snappishly, like he doesn’t want to go beat some sense into Usopp as well.  He sees Sanji’s eyes flash warningly at his tone, but Zoro ignores it.  “Don’t hesitate.  If you can’t be resolute in your decisions, then who can we trust?”

Lucy doesn’t say anything, but her head bows in acknowledgment and she slides the hat forward, to fully cover her face.

“Let’s gather our stuff,” he tells the others, tone softer.  Lucy’s in no shape to be giving orders at the moment.  “We won’t be coming back here again.”

The other three, in various states of shock, make their way down to the living quarters of the ship.

As for Zoro, he doesn’t move until Lucy does.

Chapter Text

Lucy knows Zoro’s powerful.

Hell, the first thing she knew about him, beyond any shadow of a doubt, was that Zoro is strong.

Sometimes though, Zoro still takes her breath away with his sheer brilliance.

Lucy doesn’t often get to see him fight.  Usually, somehow, they end up on opposite ends of a battlefield, because Lucy always goes for the jugular of whoever poses the most threat to her crew and Zoro sticks with the crew to make sure nothing happens to them while Lucy is gone or fights off the most proficient swordsman the opponents have to offer.

It’s kind of regrettable though, because it means she rarely gets to see him really go all out on his enemies.

She clearly hasn’t been paying enough attention since she last saw him in a proper duel—the man on the train tracks would have been difficult for him even a month ago.

Today he cuts through him in a single move.

Something about watching Zoro fight makes her feel warm and restless inside.  It’s the same swooping want inside that she sometimes gets when he trains, low and liquid in her belly.  The confidence and deftness of his movements, the intense, focused look in his eye, the perfect, deadly position of his blades, the smile that makes him look like a particularly fearsome jaguar…for some reason thinking about it makes her mind conjure images of what she could do with him, if he were willing, and—

Zoro jumps back into the train car, soaking wet from the waves and rain.

This does not help her turn off her brain.

“You’re amazing, Zoro,” she tells him seriously.  She would give him a hug but she doesn’t want to diminish the other men’s respect for them by being too familiar.

Zoro flushes bright red though, so Lucy still calls it a victory.

“Here, I grabbed some extra clothes from the station store as we were leaving.  I hope you all find something to your liking!” Kiwi offers with a grin.

Zoro figures that’s just a nice way of saying “you all stink like you’ve been running from the authorities for the past twenty-four hours, please change.”

Unfortunately, for Zoro, she didn’t bring much in terms of men’s clothes.  The best he can do is swap his (blood-soaked, torn, sweaty) white shirt for a yellow jacket.

Better than nothing.

He looks over to Chopper, who’s now donning a small red jacket made of an extremely stretchy material he probably selected with his transformations in mind.  The little reindeer is nibbling on some snacks produced from one of Franky’s groupies.  Sanji is also over there trying to chat up Mozu.  Usopp is awkwardly hovering about five feet behind Chopper, like he wants to talk to him but can’t work up the nerve.

Zoro doesn’t think much of Usopp right now, but he’s glad the sniper is proving himself the man Zoro always thought he was by helping them with Robin and Franky.  Anything personal can wait until this situation is resolved.

Nami’s rifling through clothes, but Lucy is having what seems to be a serious discussion with Paulie about the speed of the train and how large Enies Lobby is.  If the cook’s estimate is accurate, the main train was only about thirty minutes ahead of them at the time, but judging these things is apparently not so simple considering weather conditions and the relative speeds of the trains.

It’s a very un-Lucy conversation.  She’s not usually the one thinking about the details of a plan.  She’s more the here’s-what-I-want-to-do-go-make-it-happen type. 

Actually, Lucy has been a bit more…Zoro doesn’t want to say comfortable, but maybe authoritative, lately.  Usually she’s just so carefree it comes as a bit of a shock when she suddenly says or does something that reminds him she’s the captain, and the captain for a reason.

Not so much though, recently.  Ever since Skypiea she’s had a little more…weight, to her captaincy.  Maybe deposing a god does that to a person.

He’s proud of her.  A lot has occurred since making landfall on Water 7, and Lucy has been nothing if not relentless in pursuit of what she wants.  So much so that they’re now about to invade a heavily fortified government compound to rescue two people, one of whom possibly doesn’t want to be rescued.

Zoro wonders if, had he known about this back when she found him, he would have agreed to come.

…the fact that the answer is yes actually makes him question his sanity.  Well a little.  Mostly just for a second or two, but it’s not like he has any regrets, so…

“Hey, Zoro, come here for a second.”

Zoro turns to Lucy, who is holding up a few articles of clothing and beckoning him over.

“Why are you standing in a corner?” He asks.  It’s unlike her to not pursue the center of attention.

“I’m changing,” she tells him, and immediately starts to unbuckle her shorts.

Zoro swears and whips around on the spot, face beet red.  “What the hell are you thinking, there’s fifty people in here!” And most of them are guys, he doesn’t add.

Guys who are currently trying to get a peek at the girl behind him.

Something possessive and dark coils in him and the glare he sends the men closest to him makes one or two of them actually pee themselves.  Zoro knows because he can smell it, which.  Not pleasant.

The rest of them seem to sort of get the message because they all back off, minus a few brave-or-stupid-but-probably-the-later souls who try again.  For them Zoro fingers his katana meaningfully, which is a pretty effective deterrent.

Unfortunately, due to it being a pretty small space with a lot of people inside, Zoro has to back up to Lucy pretty closely to completely hide her from the rest of the car.  This means there’s not much room for Lucy to change, which means she keeps bumping him and also leaning on him, occasionally, and all of this results in Zoro having a pretty good idea of where she’s at in the changing process which leads to all sorts of thoughts which are completely inappropriate at the moment.

“Sorry,” she apologizes eventually.  “there’s no place to change and my options were you or Chopper, and he was eating.”

Zoro’s not sure if he should be upset that he seems to have been her second choice, or pleased to be on the list at all.

“The cook’s not doing anything important.”  It comes out more irritable than he meant.

Okay, so, usually it’s not a problem but occasionally he still gets a little jealous of the cook and Lucy.  The stupid cook knows it, too, and sometimes sets him off on purpose.  He maybe wants her to say she prefers Zoro.

Honestly, only Lucy makes him this petty and pathetic.  It’s frustrating as hell.

“I love Sanji, but I really don’t think this is the best job for him.”

Well, his heart may have ruptured at the first part, but he’s pretty sure she means that platonically, so Zoro snorts.  “Damn straight.”

“I can’t believe Nami just changed in front of everyone like that.”

Zoro smirks.  “I can.”  Paulie isn’t so far off when he says Nami is shameless, although his apparent inability to control himself around women wearing anything more revealing than a loose-fitting jumpsuit rubs Zoro the wrong way.  The girls can wear whatever they goddamn please.  Paulie’s issues have nothing to do with them.

“Okay, Zoro, I’m good now.”

Zoro steps forward turns around, taking in his captain, and—

Holy shit.

She swapped her denim shorts for black cargo pants that sling low around her hips.  She’s wearing a white cotton shirt that cuts off under her bust and a red leather jacket over that.

She still wears the sandals, but honestly, she looks ready for war.

It is not doing good things to his head.  He’s fairly certain he does not have a brain at the moment.  If he does, it’s certainly not working.

So many fantasies.  So many, many fantasies.

“Uh, Zoro?  Something wrong?”

I want to press you against a wall right now, but no, not really.

But then he realizes he’s staring and can’t control the blush that induces, so he looks away while Lucy dons her hat.

“I’m fine,” he manages, in a tone that’s pretty close to normal.

He supposes the attire is appropriate considering the sheer amount of people who are going to be after them once this is finished.

“Ready to storm a government facility?”  She asks him, her face lifting in enthusiasm.

He smirks at her.  “What else would I do with my weekend?”

Chapter Text

Lucy has never understood her grandfather’s utter devotion to the Marines.  She’s never understood the appeal of rising in an organization.  Lucy has always, unfailingly, understood people best.  People are most important, them and the freedom to live the way she wants, live for a dream.  It’s why she wanted to be a pirate even before Shanks showed up.

Lucy doesn’t have a problem with the Marines, or even with the World Government in general.  She just doesn’t care about them, doesn’t see why she should live her life by their rules when she can make her own.  And until now, that was the extent of her thoughts on the matter.

But now here she is, in the heart of a government compound whose sole purpose is to process people their own corrupt system deems guilty, to lead them to fates they may not deserve and definitely won’t get to choose, and some asshole is telling her that Robin’s life is forfeit because they say so.

Yeah fucking right.

Robin is hers.  Robin will do what she wants with her life, and Lucy will fight to her last breath to make sure she has the right to do so.  Robin wants to die?  Well, Lucy’s gonna do her damndest to convince her otherwise once they get her out of here, but there’s no way in heaven or hell Lucy’s just going to let some bastards take her will to live because they decided an eight-year-old girl was a menace to society, and that same girl had the audacity to survive in spite of their decree.

The enemy here is not Robin, or whatever it is she knows that they think she shouldn’t.  The enemy is whoever thought this was any approximation of justice.

“You think you can go against the Government?” The asshole with purple hair spits.  He reeks of cowardice and vice.  “Why would you, for one woman whose very existence is a sin?”

Robin is crying, like she really believes this shit and fully expects the Straw Hats to suddenly believe it too.

Robin is afraid.  Apparently, she’s not so much afraid of what might happen to her, but of the Straw Hats eventually deciding that she’s more trouble than she’s worth, and abandoning her like a puppy on the side of the road.

Here’s the thing about that:

It’s bullshit.

Lucy is the type to pick up the disease-ridden animals drowning in boxes and bring them home.  She likes the so-called outcasts, the people who can’t relate to others, except Lucy doesn’t call them outcasts, she calls them friends, because society doesn’t usually know a good thing when they see it.  It’s not like she cares if someone fits in or not.  Interesting people usually don’t.  They had to do something interesting to be shunned in the first place, right?  Like with Zoro and Usopp and Robin maybe most of all.

And there’s one other thing Robin doesn’t seem to get—she’s not an outsider to the Straw Hats.  She’s nakama.  Her burdens are theirs, her enemies are theirs to fight as well.  This is not a band of people who happen to travel together—this is nakama.  And being nakama means never having to say goodbye or be alone.

But if Robin doesn’t know that yet, then there’s only one thing to do:  make her enemies theirs in the literal sense too.

“Sogeking, shoot down that flag.”

Lucy has a way of winning people over, of being herself in such a way that people can’t seem to look away from her.  It usually happens in a fairly dramatic way, a single crystalizing moment where the crew realizes they’ve been irrevocably claimed by a crazy as hell captain, and the equally astounding reality that they’re happy about it.

Those moments, of course, are usually examples of Lucy at her most Lucy.  Zoro’s even seen her do it with people who aren’t nakama, like the Marine Lucy had Zoro save despite it being in their best interests not to.  Sure, it only seemed to piss Smoker off, but Zoro saw respect there too.

The first one he truly witnessed was Nami’s, back in Cocoyashi.  Lucy barely even said anything, just stuck a hat on Nami’s head, yelled some profanities and went off to kick ass.  But there was a shift in Nami’s eyes then, a reset, almost.  No longer did she look like she was planning escape routes.  Instead, she seemed…content.

Sanji’s moment, he missed.  Zoro knows it occurred, because Sanji has a look in his eye whenever he talks about Lucy that isn’t his usual flirtatious one—it’s respect, and maybe a little awe.  Utter devotion is there too.  Zoro would be jealous and defensive, but…he can’t really begrudge the cook those things.

Vivi had two moments—one when Nami was sick, and she declared that the ship’s fastest course must be to find Nami a doctor as soon as possible, and the other in the desert, when Lucy finally had enough, told her to stop being naïve, and called her nakama.  Also, punching was involved.  Vivi was and in all likelihood remains entirely devoted to Alabasta, but Zoro knows part of her heart belongs to Lucy as well.

Lucy earned Chopper’s devotion on top of a mountain on Drum.  Chopper called himself a monster, Lucy told him to shut up and come with them.  It was as simple as that.

Zoro and Usopp were a little different.  Their faith and loyalty to Lucy came from the bonds of shared experiences—it built slowly over time.  There isn’t a defining point Zoro can look back at and say—oh yes, that’s when it happened, that’s when this girl won me over.  He just knows he looked around a week after they started sailing together and realized he was never going to find someone like her anywhere else, and before he knew it Mihawk beat him and Zoro pledged his dream to hers.

Usopp was different though—the friendship and sense of belonging were there, but his lack of confidence occasionally prevented him from feeling fully comfortable, and sometimes his insecurities about being a man were exacerbated by the fact that Lucy is female and a stronger fighter.  It’s those kinds of insecurities that made themselves known when that awful fight happened, and it’s part of why Zoro was and remains so mad at him.  But there’s a strong bond there too, of trust and friendship and care, and they’ve all missed him despite the insanity that has been the last few days.  Zoro hopes Usopp will get his head out of his ass and apologize soon.  It’s just about the only thing that will restore him in Zoro’s eyes, make him trustworthy again.

It’s not that Lucy is a savior, or any such shit.  It’s not cultic worship or anything.  Lucy’s a person, a girl that doesn’t even reach Zoro’s shoulders.  She cries frequently, she’s selfish and would probably lead them cheerfully over a cliff if left to her own devices because she’s never met an adventure she didn’t want to have.  But the thing is, she’s a girl who does all that, and yet there’s some magnetism about her that’s undeniable.  She cares about the things people hold close to their hearts.  She has an uncanny way of seeing what the right thing to do is, often without even really realizing it, and unerringly follows through.  She keeps on making impossible things happen according to whatever whim strikes her that day, and in the process she’s saved them all at least once.  She claims people, binds them to her in a way both infinite and fragile, and the sheer force of her will is breathtaking.

Somehow a person can’t be claimed the way Lucy claims them without having their perspectives shift a bit.  Somehow, Lucy believing in a person and fighting for their hopes and dreams makes that person believe in Lucy and her fate, and suddenly people who never thought to have friends are ready to die for each other at any time.  Case in point, himself.

Part of why he never fully trusted Robin is, other than a piecemeal story and the occasional curious and vaguely awed glance from the older woman to the younger, there was no evidence such a moment ever occurred.  Zoro couldn’t shake the feeling that she never quite stopped being their enemy, and because of it could only hope Lucy knew what she was doing.

But now here they are, in Enies Lobby, ten thousand soldiers down and six assassins to go before they reach their goal, and Robin is right before them, emotionally wrecked and more honest than Zoro has ever seen her.

Zoro thinks Lucy’s outdone herself this time.

“Sogeking, shoot down that flag.”

There is conviction in Lucy’s voice, a promise and an answer to an unasked question.  Usopp shoots the flag down and a ripple of shock radiates from the towers and down into the crowds below.

“Now c’mon, Robin!  I want to hear you say it!” Lucy shouts, no patience for the flustered enemies.  That was not an act for them—it was for Robin.  This has all been for Robin.  “Say you want to live!” She screams hoarsely, the expression on her face dark and uncompromising.

Robin, bruised and exhausted and emotionally wrought, looks frozen at the words, unable to believe what Lucy just did for her.

She should have known better than to deny their captain.

Then she takes a deep breath, her voice cracking as she sobs “I want to live!  Take me to sea with you!”

And Zoro thinks, oh, there’s the moment.

Chapter Text

Zoro’s fighting a fucking giraffe.

Honestly, he’s not sure how he gets into these situations.  He’s fairly content to lay about sixty percent of the blame on Lucy and the rest on the shitty cook.

But the giraffe is actually a difficult opponent—he’s a swordsman, and he practices the weird martial arts that the rest of the assassins do.

And, though Zoro is loathe to admit it, he’s tired.  Exhausted, really.  It’s been a difficult few days, fraught with emotion, heartache, and in the last six hours, more than one fight to the death.  Zoro tried to rest on the train, but he and Lucy had to keep a watch on their progress when obstacles showed up, since they were the only ones with sufficiently powerful ranged attacks.

But it’s fine—Zoro is going to win this fight.  He’s not sure how yet, but he will.

Then the giraffe goes and badmouths Robin, and something changes.

It’s weird, for Zoro.  His fights are almost never emotional.  It’s about skill, effort, and willpower, and nothing else.  In fact, he’s usually at his most clear-headed in a fight, although some might call it single-mindedness.

But this—this is different.

Zoro almost never feels protective of other people.  Lucy is the constant exception, which is weird because Lucy almost never needs his protection, and even when she does it’s usually not a physical problem a blade can solve.  Even when he’s actively protecting his nakama, he doesn’t feel the need to exact retribution on their attackers for the attempt, unless the attacker is behaving dishonorably.  That’s more Lucy’s thing than his.

Then the giraffe runs his mouth about Robin and all he can think about, suddenly, is the way she looked with tears streaming down her face and screaming I want to live like she’s never said it aloud before.

Like flipping a switch, his reasons for fighting the giraffe immediately morph from pragmatic to emotional, and suddenly he’s filled with wrath.

Be a vessel for my punishment, purrs a voice.  Kitetsu hums in agreement, high-pitched and whining for blood.

Zoro steps back, and crosses his arms in his favorite ready position.  Fury and bloodlust fill him in a way he’s never experienced before, his body burning with it, and he calls “Nine-Sword Style:  Demon Asura.”

Zoro can feel the darkness of his own aura, and knows he is accomplishing something only those truly ready to live on the edge of their blades can, because this, whatever it is, it hurts.  But there’s power here, and Zoro needs it desperately, so he embraces the pain, the darkness in his own soul, and becomes destruction incarnate.

The giraffe looks scared, but Zoro doesn’t care.  This man made one of his nakama cry.

He steps forward, and it hurts but Zoro ignores it.  He will not let this man take one more breath.

He leaps, blades whirling, and pain shoots up his spine.  “Suffering is welcome on the path to bloodshed.”  He growls, and it’s as much a threat to the giraffe as it is a reminder to himself.

Each of his nine blades connect with their targets, and Zoro smirks in satisfaction with three mouths.  He lands easily from the jump, and crosses his blades once more in the ready position, before relaxing as he hears the thud of the giraffe’s heavy body, and the labored breathing of human lungs.

He slides three katanas into their scabbards, and hears the groan that signals his opponent’s imminent demise.

“The guy from the shipyard had something he wanted me to tell you,” Zoro mutters.  “You’re fired.”

There’s a snort of painful laughter, then a slight rustle, and his opponent is offering him the key.

Zoro takes it, a little surprised, but it would seem a swordsman is a swordsman even when they’re on opposite sides of a battle like this one.

Zoro doesn’t respect this man, but he thinks, as he departs to go find the others and deliver the key to Robin, that under different circumstances and with a little less idiocy on the giraffe’s part, he maybe could have.

Once everyone—minus Lucy—makes it onto the escape ship, Zoro lets himself breathe for exactly twelve seconds, and then climbs back up the stairs to take stock.

Enies Lobby is burning.  Everything except the bridge is on fire, and still Zoro can hear the battleships fire blast after blast on what was a perfectly functional compound about three hours ago.  It’s hard to believe they would just mindlessly execute this level of destruction against even their own.

But then, maybe the Marines just don’t care for their own people the way that pirates do.

How’s that for ironic.

While he’s confident in her abilities, what Zoro really wants to do right now is go find his captain and make sure she’s alright.  He wants to hold her, catalogue her injuries, make sure she’ll be okay soon if she isn’t now.  He wants to tell her about the demon that helped him win against the giraffe, and about how proud he is of her.  He wants to take her hand in his and not let go until he’s satisfied she’s safe, act on all those impulses to touch her that he’s been repressing.

But, Zoro knows with an unfortunate amount of certainty that what he wants is not what Lucy needs.  She’s going to beat Lucci.  Of course she is.  Zoro has never doubted her before and isn’t about to start now.  And part of him knows, too, that if he goes to her now he will only be in the way.

No, Lucy doesn’t need him to help her fight.

Lucy needs her crew safe, needs them protected while she defeats the person only she could take on and beat.

Zoro stands on the Bridge of Hesitation and thinks.

They need to figure out an exit strategy, and they need a way to extract Lucy, because Zoro has a feeling she’s not going to be in great shape after this fight.  They’re safe for now because the Marines still want Robin, still want to take her back.  Once they finish totaling their own compound, they’ll probably come back for her.

They’ll have to make their stand here, at the bridge.  The Marines obviously know where they are, but that actually protects them for now.  And since they won’t be leaving without Lucy, they may as well pick one place for her to find.

He still wants to go to her.  He’ll always want to go to her.

But Zoro and Lucy understand each other.  He knows how strong she is, he’s seen it and felt it and heard it in the sounds of earth collapsing and a belfry ringing like a heartbeat for the whole world to hear.  He trusts her to win, always, just as she does for him.  Anything less would be a sign of disrespect, a betrayal.

There is no hesitation in him when he stares down the infernos of Enies Lobby, or watches the battleships lose interest in the island and turn their attention to the bridge.

Lucy will win.  Zoro just has to wait for her.

Lucy knows she’s past her limit.

Hell, Lucy was nearly past her limit when she started this fight, but now she can barely move.  There’s almost nothing left in her system, and she’s used Gear Second too many times today—she can feel her heartbeat is thready and fast, like it can’t quite figure out how to compensate for the abuse of her own body.

And still, still, Lucci advances.  He’s breathing hard, he’s bloody, and if he lives he’s going to have a slew of serious scars to remember her by.  He’s not quite so far past his edge as Lucy is though, and that thought scares her, makes her more desperate.

She…she has to defeat this man.

If she doesn’t, he’ll kill everyone she loves.

That’s not something Lucy can accept.

Lucci delivers a kick meant for her head.  She dodges, and it blows throw a wall instead, bringing down what’s left of the room.  It seems to tire him though, and for a moment they’re both glaring at each other from across the room, just panting as they try to catch their breath before the next round.

She’s tired.  She’s so, so tired.

And then a voice, clear and familiar, pierces through the dust and smoke. “Lucy-san!  We’re here!”

And slowly, disbelievingly, Lucy turns to see four people standing on the edge of the destroyed bridge.

It’s Zoro, Usopp, Sanji, and Franky.

“WE ALL GOT TO THE BRIDGE SAFELY,” Franky shouts.

“DON’T WORRY ABOUT US, LUCY-SAN!”  Usopp again.

“ROBIN’S SAFE TOO,” Sanji screams, “PLEASE KICK HIS ASS AND COME BACK SAFE, SENCHO, MY HEART CAN’T BEAR TO SEE A LADY SUFFER.”

“DEFEAT HIM, DON’T YOU DARE GIVE UP.”  And that’s—that’s Zoro, reminding her what she promised him after Loguetown.  He makes victory sound inevitable.

Usopp and Sanji have the same idea.  “WE’LL ALL GO HOME TOGETHER.”

Something about this is…incredible, inconceivable to Lucy.  Never once did she think it possible that her nakama love her as much as she loves them.  Oh, she knows, has always known, that they love her, but she didn’t think it was in the soul-shearing way she’s claimed them for herself.  But what other conclusion could she draw now, with those four standing on a bridge telling her in no uncertain terms that she is expected to return to them—that without her their mission would not be a success, and all she has to do in order to see another day with them is defeat one man.

Lucy doesn’t quite have the energy to expend on a full-faced smile, so she offers them a smaller, more emotional one instead, and nods.

She can see Zoro’s smirk from here and knows at least one of them got her message.

With Enies Lobby out of sight, and the Merry sailing miraculously through the sea once more, it’s suddenly all Zoro can do to stay standing.

But instead of collapsing at the bow, like he wants to, he wobbles over to the center of the main deck, where everyone is gathering around the prone, still body of their captain.

She’s alive, and she’s awake, but she still can’t move.  Chopper is hovering over her, frantically evaluating everything about her condition and muttering dire-sounding statements as he goes.  Zoro tries not to listen too closely, and instead takes her in.

She’s covered in her own blood, and probably some of Lucci’s as well.  Her clothes are torn and ripped to shreds, the black cargo pants torn off at the knee on one leg and her jacket nowhere to be found.  The straw hat hangs on its cord, half-crushed behind her, and Zoro takes in the weakly moving fingers of her open hands, twitching like she’s trying to form a fist and can’t quite do it.

Zoro doesn’t even want to know what would have happened to the rest of them against Lucci.  He’s pretty sure they’d be at least one member down right now.

As they gather around, Lucy can’t seem to stop taking them in, her eyes locking on each of them in turn and then again.  Her smile is broad and wide, despite the way she shakes from fatigue, like even lying on the deck is too much exertion for her.

Zoro, like most of them, is exhausted.  He has injuries Chopper will want to treat.

But they’re safe, for now.  They won.

Zoro sits next to Lucy’s head, hogging the most space and her attention too.  It’s not an elegant motion but it works all the same.  He’s a little surprised when he hears no protests from the others—mostly Sanji—because while Lucy looks at them almost hungrily, like she has to keep checking that they’re alright, the rest of the crew is doing the same to her.

Immediately, big brown eyes lock on his face and her smile becomes impossibly brighter.

“I won,” she tells him.  There’s pride in her eyes, and maybe a hint of vicious satisfaction.

Zoro’s proud of her too.  “I know.  Everyone did.”

And that was true, too—not a single one of their enemies held any victories over them, and as such they probably all died in the Buster Call or succumbed to their injuries.  This is not the first time they’ve killed, but it is the first time they’ve so totally annihilated the people who went against them.

“Do we have any blankets on board?” Chopper asks, his voice a little higher than usual with tension.

No, they probably don’t.  They mostly stripped everything when they left the Merry two nights ago.

Everyone seems to realize this, and they collectively throw a quick glance to Usopp, who apologetically shakes his head.

Chopper frowns.  “She’s going into shock.  Someone needs to share body heat with her to try and warm her up.”

Zoro and Sanji accidentally make eye contact over their captain’s prone form.

Sanji’s eyes flash with opportunistic glee.

“I’ll do it,” Zoro volunteers.

Chopper nods distractedly.  “She’s got no major spinal or cervical injuries, and from what I can tell, moving her shouldn’t be bad.  I’m worried about her arrhythmia, and internal bleeding based on these contusions,” Chopper points to a set of dark purple bruises spread across her belly like claw marks.  “but there’s nothing I can do about that right now, so it’s safe to move her, just try not to bump her too much.”

Zoro nods, and starts sliding his hands under Lucy’s knees and shoulders.  Zoro knows he’s tired because Lucy, despite all her muscle, doesn’t weigh much and yet Zoro’s not sure he has the strength to carry her much farther than the mast.

Incidentally, that’s where he ends up going.  That way he can sit up and hold her a little more carefully, and their nakama can still gather around and hover the way they want to.

So Zoro settles, his back against the mast.  Lucy is cradled in his lap, her head on his left shoulder and his left knee bent to support her better.  Franky nods to them and goes to the helm to keep watch as the others circle around them, a little gathering of protective frustration.

“Oi, be careful Moss Head, you’re squeezing her arm like that.”

Zoro looks down to where Lucy is holding her arms comfortably in her lap.  “Fuck off, shitty cook.”

The smile on Lucy’s face turns fond, and her eyes flutter shut.  Zoro kind of hopes she goes to sleep soon, because seeing her this exhausted is painful.

“Don’t give me that when you may be crushing my precious Lucy-san with your brutish arms and inconsideration.”

Zoro glares but he refuses to make any kind of movement that would dislodge Lucy.  “That’s the kind of shit you’d pull, Pirate A.”

Sanji flushes and pulls out a cigarette, grumbling.  Zoro figures they’ll all have bounties after this, so he’d better make fun of Sanji while he can.

Well, he’ll still make fun of Sanji, but they’re probably going to have an epithet for him soon.  Zoro hopes it’s dumb.

“You guys are funny,” Lucy mumbles.  Zoro frowns because that’s the same thing she says when one of them is trying to pull something or hide emotions with bluster and gags, and that would imply he likes the cook, which.  Lies.

“Go to sleep, Lucy,” Nami says from above them.  She’s looking at the back of Lucy’s head with a fond smile on her face.

“Y’ sure?” She slurs.  Her head is already sliding into his shoulder, her forehead pressing into the crook of his neck.

“Go to sleep,” Zoro says lowly.  One of Lucy’s hands reach out to grab the zippered edge of his jacket.  Zoro’s a little surprised she mustered the energy to do that, but he knows it’s a question, too, a worry that she’s going to wake up and the rest of them will be gone.

Zoro takes her other hand in his and folds her fingers between his, a reassurance.  She’s asleep and breathing deeply in under a minute, and the six of them all collectively relax in relief when she starts snoring.

“It’s good she killed that guy,” Sanji says darkly.  “I’d be torturing him for hurting her this bad.”

Nami retorts for Zoro.  “You couldn’t beat him if he was alive.  Look at the state she’s in.”

Zoro pulls her a little tighter against his chest.  She’s starting to drool, but he doesn’t really mind.  She’s at least not shaking anymore.

“I am.  I hate seeing her take on all those enemies by herself, my chivalry demands I not let her fight while I breathe!” Sanji insists, and he’s just a little too serious to be joking.  He looks at Zoro like he’s expecting some kind of support.  “Tell me why we let her fight again?”

Zoro glances down at Lucy, sees his charge covered in blood and wounds that look like bullet holes and claws, and on some level he can see what the cook is talking about.

He loves watching her fight, loves seeing her come out victorious time and again, but he hates seeing her beat up.

It isn’t like he’d ever stop her though.  Lucy loves fighting.  It’s one of the things they have in common.

Nami is having none of the shit today, apparently.  “Because she could kick both your asses from here to East Blue.”

Zoro isn’t about to disagree.  Sanji apparently isn’t either, since he just kind of slumps, stymied.

And then suddenly, Robin is laughing.

Everyone’s heads whip around, because that’s not a usual sound coming from her, not this high, giddy sort, rather than a quiet, restrained chuckle.

“I’m—I’m sorry, everyone, it’s just—” Robin’s eyes are mirthful and disbelieving.  “I can’t believe any of this happened.”

Part of Zoro really, really understands where she’s coming from.  The ridiculousness of their quest was apparent from the start—storming a government facility like this just isn’t done—and the fact that they were successful, that they even managed to regain their ship, their magic ship which talks to them, is more than a little outrageous.

But most of Zoro has known something like this was inevitable, was going to happen from the start.  He remembers seeing her for the first time and thinking sensible people would run far, far away from this type of crazy.  Lucy has no sense of restraint or self-preservation.

Then Nami chuckles, before joining Robin in full-blown laughter.  “Oh, did you see their faces when she ordered Usopp to shoot the flag?”

Then Sanji snorts a little, grinning around a cigarette.  “Heh.  I thought the purple guy was gonna wet himself.”

“I can’t believe Sogeking convinced the giants to help us,” Chopper adds, giggling.

And from there it really devolves, until the adrenaline crash aligns itself with their successful high, and then they’re all laughing, full-bodied and helpless on the floor.  Zoro tries to be careful of Lucy, but even he’s snickering.

“I can’t believe we did that,” Nami says eventually, disbelieving.  “I really can’t believe we did that.  I never would have done something like that before…”

They all hear the end of that sentence, even though it’s never spoken.

“Lucy-san has a way of rearranging reality to suit her needs,” Sanji says eventually.

“I’m grateful,” Robin says.  “To all of you.”

“Like we were just going to let you go like that,” Nami snorts. “Who else would help me teach Lucy how to be a girl?  No, you’re stuck with us, I’m afraid.”

Robin smiles, and it’s the softest expression Zoro has ever seen on her face.

The girl in his arms, their beautiful, strong, selfish, bullheaded captain, snuffles his shoulder a bit.  Zoro just squeezes her gently, and hopes his gratitude reaches her.

Zoro is an orphan.  He’s never had a family before, never had even one person he couldn’t leave behind.  Now he has people, his nakama, who gather around him and their exhausted captain and create a warm place between them.

He never expected this, not once.  He never hoped for it.  He didn’t even know he wanted it.

And then a girl in a straw hat walked up to him and demanded he join her nonexistent crew.  And sure, his relationship with Lucy is…different, than his relationship with the others, or at least more complicated, but he has them, and it’s because she forced him to say yes to that question.

It’s possible he’s just being a sap because he’s worried and worn out and coming off an adrenaline high, but he’s so, so grateful to his captain who refuses to let anyone go.

Maybe it’s because of the exhaustion, because of the worry and relief and stress and euphoria, and the swell of emotion that has everything to do with the girl in his arms, or maybe it’s because he’s just too spent to push down the longing today.  Either way, Zoro gently, near worshipfully, leans down to press his lips to her temple, the first kiss he’s ever given her, and thinks thank you.  I’m so glad you’re safe.  I never doubted you for a moment.

If the others notice, they don’t say a thing, and they sail on until the ruins of Enies Lobby are far behind them.

Chapter Text

Zoro sits on a pile of junk by the seaside of Water 7, and watches the sun set on the Grand Line.

They arrived back here two days ago, in significantly more depressed spirits after the Merry’s funeral than they’d been in after escaping Enies Lobby.  Lucy, who woke up right before they were met by Iceberg’s fleet and just in time to see the ship crack, passed out not long after they were hauled up into the larger ships, her tears still drying on her cheeks.  The rest of them followed not long after, although Zoro stayed awake until they made it back to Water 7 and Iceberg showed them to a trailer in his company headquarters.  Determining them safe enough for now, and with everyone treated and asleep, Zoro finally passed out himself.

He woke up only this morning.  Nami and Robin both got up before him, and Usopp left the trailer at some point, but the rest of the crew was still asleep, and utterly safe in the compound.

Zoro, feeling restless, got up, grabbed his swords, and took a walk.  He found some vendors that recognized him and apologetically foisted some food on him, apparently feeling pretty guilty for chasing the crew all over town the other day.

He eventually stumbled his way down to the junkyard, and took a seat.  He then meditated for an hour or so, and when he opened his eyes the sun was large and the sky red.

He’s sorry to see the Merry go.

Zoro agreed with Lucy’s initial verdict on the ship, thought it would be kinder to let the Merry sleep peacefully than drive her to the ocean’s bottom.  Still, the funeral for the magic ship that saved them all one last time tore at him.  It tore at all of them, and they understood completely the pain each other felt at the Merry’s departure and final farewell.

But Zoro is grieving someone else too.

Carefully, and with the respect owed to any blade, Zoro removes the remains of Yuubashiri from its hilt.

The draw is light, with over three quarters of his blade missing.  Steel scrapes softly against the scabbard and then the jagged, unnatural break catches as it’s fully removed.

Zoro inspects it, holds the sharp edge of the blade away from him as he takes in the damage.

It’s not pretty.  That Marine’s Devil Fruit ability was apparently to rust through everything, and though the damage he inflicted on Zoro disappeared as soon as he broke contact, it was too late for his sword.

It stings that a grunt like that Marine crippled him so badly, took one of his weapons away for good.

Zoro supposes he should just be grateful the Marine didn’t get Wado Ichimonji.  Zoro would never forgive himself if he destroyed Kuina’s sword before it became the implement of the World’s Greatest Swordsman.  It needs to be in perfect condition when his goal is complete and he offers it back to Sensei.

There’s no hope to fix the blade.  Zoro’s not a craftsman, but he knows that.  He can’t even use Yuubashiri as a tanto because the length is wrong and the steel fragile from the Marine’s attack, not to mention he has no training or skill with a blade that short.

Zoro can’t hear Yuubashiri’s voice anymore, the way he can Kitetsu’s and increasingly, Wado’s.  Though quiet, there was always a soft tone from the blade, a low, humble thrum that balanced Kitetsu’s bloodlust with Wado’s icy clarity, made it easier to wield the three fine blades at once.

Even as he handles the remains of the blade, he feels nothing, and as he gazes at the black lacquer hilt, the gold inlays, he can’t help but grieve for the loss of a devoted partner.

He wonders if that old man at Loguetown, who gave him Yuubashiri for free, would regret giving him the sword if he knew how it met its end.  It was the man’s family sword, after all, and the finest thing he had to offer Zoro at the time.

If Zoro could, he would tell the old man of every time Yuubashiri saved his life, saved his nakama’s lives, saved countries.  He would tell him how he learned to cut through steel with this sword, to hear the breath of things with Yuubashiri thrumming in his right hand, and Kitetsu howling in his left.  He’d say thank you for the blade, express his regrets at its fate.

It was a good sword.  The best he’s ever lost.

He holds it up to the sun, and squints at the metal, observing its cracks as they flash in the sunlight.

“Zoro!” A familiar voice calls.

Zoro turns, his arm falling slowly as he recognizes his captain walking toward him, a smile on her face but significantly slower than usual.  She’s wearing blue shorts and a red and white tank top with the Galley-La logo on it, midriff covered for once, but she’s still wearing her sandals and she looks relaxed rather than ready to go to war.

“Lucy,” he greets.  “You’re awake.”

Lucy shrugs.  “I woke up a little while ago.  Still pretty tired, but everyone was wondering where you went, and I wanted to take a walk, so I decided to go look for you.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow.  “You didn’t tell anyone you were leaving, did you?”

Lucy can’t lie to save her life, so to save herself from his wrath she pouts at him and blinks innocently.  “Noooo?”  Then, because she’s Lucy, she immediately moves on from the topic without consequence.  “What’re you doing out here?  And when did you get a knife?”

Ouch.

“Thinking,” he tells her, and ignores the second question.

Lucy, clearly not satisfied with that answer, sits on a pile of junk beside him, cheerfully wrapping her arms around her knees.  “What about?”

Zoro tenses a little, because part of the reason he came out here was so he could be alone, have a little time by himself to grieve his loss.  No one else on the crew is a swordsman, they couldn’t possibly get it.  And, honestly, Zoro could do with a little alone time.

But Lucy is the person Zoro wants to be with even when he wants to be alone.

Besides, he’s not going to let her walk back alone when she still looks like she could keel over anytime.

Zoro doesn’t usually let people touch his swords.  Sometimes it’s a necessity, like when Chopper brought him Kitetsu, but generally, he prefers the others don’t touch his blades.  Especially Wado.  Even now he doesn’t really want to hand over Yuubashiri, not even to Lucy.

But then, this is Lucy, and he trusts Lucy like he trusts no one else.

He offers her the hilt.

Lucy recognizes it immediately and gasps.  Tentatively, and with a quick, questioning glance at Zoro, she takes Yuubashiri’s remains and traces the hilt with her fingers carefully, almost reverently, with a sorrowful look on her face.

“How?” She asks, inspecting the rusted edge of the blade.

“Rust Rust Fruit.”

“Can it be fixed?”

“No.”

Lucy looks pained.  “Oh Zoro, I’m sorry.”  She’s acting like he’s grieving for a friend that died.

It’s weird how her sympathy actually makes him feel better.  From anyone else it would have felt condescending or pitying.

Then Lucy holds the broken blade across both her palms, and performs an awkward little bow to the sword.  “Thank you for protecting Zoro all this time, Yuubashiri.”

And weirdly, that’s what makes his heart feel lighter, makes the loss feel a bit smoother.

“Should we…should we have a funeral?  Like we did for the Merry?”

Most swordsmen don’t do anything special for their broken blades.  But then, most blades aren’t as fine as Zoro’s.

Zoro isn’t particularly sentimental, but he considers for a moment the idea of walking around with only two swords at his waist and dumping the scabbard and hilt at a metal shop somewhere, and it just doesn’t feel right.

“Not yet,” he tells her.  “I’ve looked through the sword shops here.  It’s…not their craft.”  Which is a bit of an understatement.  For such a trading hub Water 7 really didn’t offer much for crafts not related to ships, shipping, and ship building.  Except food, apparently—Sanji was raving the other day about how interesting the cuisine is here.

Lucy nods, and doesn’t question his decision.  Then gently, respectfully, she offers Zoro the hilt, and he slides the remains of his sword home in its lacquered scabbard.

The weight feels a bit off, but that’s probably just his imagination.

Lucy peers at him and cocks her head to the side.  “Do you want me to leave?  I’m sorry for intruding earlier, I should have asked—”

“You can stay.” If it was anyone else he would have told them to get lost, but…it’s Lucy.  And he actually is feeling a little better about his loss now.  Lucy nods, gives him a small smile, and sways like she does when she’s lost too much blood and hasn’t replenished her energy.

“I’m done here, actually,” he tells her.  He’s surprised to find it’s the truth.  “Let’s go back.”

Lucy inspects him for a second, like she thinks he’s lying to her.  Then she grins.  “You couldn’t find your way back on your own, could you?”

Zoro scowls at her.  “I haven’t tried yet.”  Which isn’t explicitly true—he was going to meditate on one of the Galley-La docking towers when he ended up at the beach—but whatever.  “And I don’t want to hear it from you, of all people.”  Lucy’s sense of direction, according to Nami, is only a few grades improved from his own.  They usually end up where they need to be when they need to be there, though.

Lucy winks at him, smile tired.  “Yeah, but I don’t get lost walking in a straight line.”

Zoro scowls at her, and can’t comment because that actually happened more than once while they were on the run the other day here in Water 7.

They stand, brush themselves off, and then Lucy’s expression turns serious.  “We’ll find you a new sword somewhere.  And then I’ll help you have a funeral for Yuubashiri, if you want.”

Zoro takes in her expression, the earnest tightening of her eyes and sympathetic line of her mouth, and knows she means every word.

It doesn’t mean everything’s fine now—they still don’t have a ship and Usopp still hangs over all of them, and Zoro really is in a bind without three swords—but it does ease the loss a little.

So he nods to her, and knows his expression is softer than anyone else would ever think him capable of. “Okay.”

Three days after their return to Water 7, everyone is awake and on the mend except Lucy, who collapsed after returning to the guest house with Zoro and hasn’t woken since.  That kind of pisses him off a little—why wasn’t anyone watching her to make sure she didn’t pull shit like this, this is Lucy they’re talking about—and also afflicts him with no small sense of guilt since he didn’t realize anything was amiss until the halfway back to the guest house.  At that point she had to be carried, white faced and trembling, as he ran to get her to Chopper.

Chopper says she’s fine, but probably won’t wake up for another day or so, because she shouldn’t have been walking around and whatever technique she used to kill Lucci depletes her of energy in a way he’s never seen before.

They all wince a little at that.

Anyway, none of them feel much inclined to leave her alone today, which is how they all end up spending the afternoon relaxing in the guest house as Franky offers to build them a ship.

Then the wall explodes.

It would be endearing how all of them throw themselves between Lucy and the intrusion if they weren’t desperately trying to figure out what was going on.

Zoro can’t see his features but there’s a hulking man standing in the center of the hole in the wall.

“Who the hell are you?” Nami demands.  The dust clears and Zoro’s stomach drops as he makes out a Marine uniform, and what looks to be about an entire ship full of crew members.

Zoro is about to order Usopp and Chopper to take Lucy and run while the rest of them try to hold them off here, but then the massive Marine steps up into the little house and Zoro hesitates.

Something about him looks…familiar.

“So...” the Marine has a low, booming voice even though his tone sounds vaguely conversational.  “You’re the bunch of misfits my granddaughter calls nakama.”

Zoro’s mind possibly breaks a little, because there’s only one person he could be referring to and she’s currently unconscious in the bed behind him.  Zoro would turn to give a disbelieving glance at his captain, but he’s too well-trained to take his eye off the enemy, and instead he just goes a little slack-jawed.

And maybe it’s because they’re so shocked that the Marine manages to get a question put to them.  “Now,” something red tinges the air around him, and then a massive, meaty hand bigger than Zoro’s head snaps out and grabs him and Sanji by the throat, lifts them off their feet so they choke. “WHICH ONE OF YOU HAS BEEN DEFILING MY GRANDDAUGHTER.”

What.

Wait what in the actual—

If Zoro wasn’t blacking out from lack of oxygen he would be freaking the fuck out.

He draws Kitetsu, lets it flash in the sunlight as a courtesy warning before he mutilates Lucy’s grandfather, and then draws a cut that could slice through iron across the man’s wrist with the wicked blade.

It bounces off.

What in the actual—

“No one has defiled her to my knowledge, Marine-san,” Robin offers calmly, like she isn’t the most probable reason for a Marine visit but miraculously seems to not be this one’s priority.  His grip slackens a little at her words.  “Although I think it safe to say Zoro—our swordsman—has probably come the closest.”

Well.  So much for trusting Robin.

The Marine drops Sanji immediately, who grabs his throat and coughs on all fours.

“YOU’VE BEEN DOING WHAT TO MY GRANDDAUGHTER?”

Zoro’s not even sure what he’d say to the Marine if he could speak at the moment.  He settles for just glaring and trying to hack his head off this time.

No dice, but the attempt seems to enrage the—larger, so much larger—man, and he swings his massive hand and sends Zoro into the wall on the far side of the room so hard he feels his back snap support beams.  It’s probably only due to Galley-La’s excellent engineering that he doesn’t bring the back half of the building down.

“I’LL KILL YOU IF YOU TOUCHED HER BEFORE A WEDDING.”

Zoro doesn’t squeak but he’s told later that the sound was very close.  “W-wedding?!”

“I’ll send you his head in a box if he does so inappropriately, Lucy’s grandpa-san.”

Zoro stumbles out of the Zoro-shaped hole in the wall, and throws the nearest dining implement at the cook’s head.  It’s a salt shaker.  Sanji catches it.

“NOT HELPING, SANJI,” Nami shrieks.  Then she turns to the Marine, pasting on a sweet smile.  “Lucy has no romantic relationships that I know of, Marine-san.”

“Hm, but I think we would all be a bit relieved if they would just admit their feelings on the matter,” Robin adds, completely unhelpfully.

The Marine turns to Sanji.  “You.  I like you.  Do that.”  Then he turns to Zoro, who by now has made his way back to the group.  “YOU.”  Zoro glares, standing between the old man and Lucy.  Like hell he’d just let the crazy bastard anywhere near her.  Lucy’s never even mentioned him before.  The Marine cocks his grey head, grizzled face twitching in slight amusement.  “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

Zoro says nothing, just glares with his hand poised on his blades.

The Marine looks almost amused for a second, and says.  “You might even be more stubborn than my granddaughter.”

Zoro disagrees.  “No one is more stubborn than Lucy.”

“JUST HOW FAMILIAR WITH MY GRANDDAUGHTER ARE YOU?”

Zoro’s eyes widen just in time to see the Marine’s fist plough straight into his chest, and send him once more into the wall.  This time he cracks concrete.

Zoro looks up to glare at the Marine blearily, but the man’s attention has shifted.

“Don’t be so rude, granddaughter!  Time to get up!”

Zoro hears Chopper yell, “Please Lucy’s grandpa, she needs to sleep!” and manages to blink away the probable concussion enough to see the Marine grab the side of the bed and overturn it in one swift movement, the bed flying up and implanting itself in the ceiling and the mattress flopping down at Nami’s feet.

Lucy rolls on the floor, and ridiculously, sleeps on.

The marine raises his fist, kisses it, and roars “UUUUUAAAAH, FIST OF LOVE!”

“OI!  WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”  Sanji yells.

Zoro’s eyes widen as he processes what’s about to happen, and he leaps forward, his two working swords crossed in a defensive position.  He and Sanji land their attacks at the exact same time, trying to catch the descending fist across the knuckles, Zoro crouched over Lucy’s blissfully unaware form and bracing for all he’s worth.

The Marine’s massive fist is slowed, barely, but then pummels through their line and both of them go flying this time.  Zoro just barely sees the man manage to connect a hit to Lucy’s forehead before slamming headfirst into the wall, for the third time in the last sixty seconds.

Shit.

“Ow ow ow ow ow!” Lucy’s high-pitched whine echoes through the room.  “It hurts!  It hurts!”

Sanji gets up quicker than Zoro, since he has only flown into one wall today, and flutters around Lucy like a very concerned butterfly.  “It hurts?  Lucy-san you’re made of rubber!  How could it hurt—”

But Lucy completely ignores him when she takes in the massive, bearded man grinning down at her.  “Ehhh??!!  Gramps?!”

Zoro stumbles out of the wall—again—and strides over as evenly as he can to stand behind Lucy, glaring at the Marine.

“Hello, Lucy,” Zoro notices that they have matching scars around their left eyes, and wonders if it happened at the same time.  “I hear you’ve been doing reckless things.”

Lucy frowns, clearly irritated.  “The Marines are the one who blew up your base, not me.”

Nami groans in the corner.  “Don’t confirm when they haven’t accused yet, Lucy.”

Lucy rubs her forehead.  “But it’s true!”

The Marine, thankfully, says nothing.  Zoro does notice that a few of the men waiting outside seem a little agitated by the accusation, though.

“Oi!  How dare you hit a lady!  And your own granddaughter, too!”  Sanji screeches.

The Marine looks unimpressed.  “Oh please, that was just a love tap.”

“NOT TO MY INJURED PATIENT, YOU DOLT.”

The Marine cocks his head to the side, peering at Chopper.  “…a tanuki?”

“I’M A REINDEER.”

“Anyway, Lucy, don’t you owe me an apology?” The marine says beseechingly.

Lucy looks utterly lost.  “For what?”

And, completely out of the blue, the Marine slams another fist across her forehead.  Zoro doesn’t even have a chance to try and deflect it this time, and Lucy whines in pain.  “You don’t call, you don’t write!  Your nakama don’t even know who I am!  Don’t you think I deserve at least that, your grandfather for whom you cause so much trouble?”

“STOP THAT, IT HURTS, DAMMIT!”

“HOW DARE YOU HIT LUCY-SAN.”

“Are you, by any chance, Monkey D. Garp?” Robin asks politely, the she-devil.

The whole room freezes.

“Th—that Garp?  The famous Marine that cornered Gol D. Roger so many times?”  Nami stutters.

Even Zoro is impressed.  Tales of Garp were heard all over the world—they said it was like he had a homing beacon on the late Pirate King.

“Yeah, don’t fight him.”  Lucy confirms.  The way she says it almost sounds like a rule she has to remind herself of frequently.

What in the fuck.

“Gramps has nearly killed me several times in the past.”

What in the fuck.

It’s weird being so in synch with Sanji on something because just as Zoro is reaching for his swords again Sanji shifts into an offensive pose.

“I never tried to kill you!”

“YOU THREW ME OVER BOTTOMLESS CLIFFS.”

“Endurance training!”

“YOU LEFT ME IN THE JUNGLE.”

“Survival training!”

“YOU TIED ME TO A BALLOON.”

“Problem-solving and mental cognition!”

“I WAS FIVE FOR ALL OF THOSE THINGS.”

“So much,” Nami whimpers.  “This explains so much…”

“I was training you up to be a good Marine!  One that dresses with appropriate modesty!”

“I WANTED TO BE A PIRATE, AND I’LL DRESS HOWEVER I GODDAMN FEEL LIKE.”

Zoro isn’t even sure where to start with any of this.

“DON’T YOU CURSE AT ME YOUNG LADY.”

“FUCK THAT.”

“I’M GOING TO TEACH YOU MANNERS IF IT KILLS YOU.”

The fist comes down on Lucy’s forehead—again—and Zoro, maybe stupidly, tries to pull her behind him this time only to have her shove him off to aggressively face down her grandfather.

“PIRATES DON’T NEED MANNERS.”

Garp’s expression changes from unruffled to annoyed.  “This pirate obsession of yours is all Red-Hair’s fault, the bastard.”

“Didn’t you just tell her not to swear?” Franky asks.

“SHANKS SAVED MY LIFE, DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK ILL OF HIM.”

Zoro…Zoro has never seen Lucy quite this emotional, not in this particular way.  He’s never seen her fight like this with someone either, not for her own sake.  She looks upset—maybe genuinely—but also pleased and furious.  It seems…personal, in a way it usually isn’t.

“DON’T YOU TELL YOUR GRANDPA WHAT TO DO.”

The punch this time clearly packs a little more wallop because Lucy flies back, straight into Zoro, who falls painfully onto the floor with Lucy on top of him.

“Jeez, I’m sorry, stop doing that!”

“Do you even know what type of person Red Hair is?” Garp asks, and it sounds like a conversation they’ve had a few times.  Then his eyes narrow at Zoro.  “You!  Paws off my granddaughter.”

Zoro glowers.  “You’re the one that hit her.”

Lucy ignores them both and her eyes light up through the reflexive tears of pain as she scrambles off of Zoro.  “Do you know where he is?  Are he and the others alright?”

Garp sighs, like even he isn’t capable of out-stubborning Lucy.  “As far as I know.  He’s a Yonko.”

Lucy relaxes, and looks at her hat fondly.  “That’s good.  I’m glad they’re safe.”

Like most of them, Lucy doesn’t talk about her past much.  She’s only mentioned Shanks a handful of times, and most of those have been glib answers about the hat that really don’t explain much.  Zoro did know beforehand that he saved her life, and that he was the first person who told Lucy about the One Piece, although she insists that she wanted to be a pirate before she met him.

He did not know he’s a Yonko.

Garp looks around, like he’s only just now noticing the damage to the building.  “…huh.  I did that?”

Garp’s aids look long-suffering when they chorus, “Yes, Vice-Admiral.”

What in the fuck.

Chapter Text

Lucy offers her goodbyes to Coby and Helmeppo before she has to, and sends them off to find Zoro.  It’s not that she doesn’t want to see them—well, she wants to see Coby at least, she has no idea what’s up with the other one—but she has someone else she needs to speak to at the moment.

She finds Gramps where she expects to find him.  That is, in the most obnoxious place possible—sipping tea in the unfinished hole in her wall while looking over some papers.

“You didn’t have to hit Zoro so many times,” she greets, eying the vaguely Zoro-shaped imprints on the wall across from them.

Gramps doesn’t even seem surprised she showed up.  “I only aimed for him the once.  Wait—twice.”

Lucy sighs.  “Don’t kill my swordsman.”

Gramps looks at her over his teacup.  “Oh, is that all he is?”

Lucy is not following.  “He’s also my first mate.  And my nakama.”

Gramps huffs a laugh.  “If you get married and don’t invite me I’m going to kill both of you.”

“No one’s getting married.”

“Uh huh.”

Lucy doesn’t argue further, because it’s usually pointless with Gramps, and frequently ends up with him hitting her when she doesn’t capitulate to his side.  “It’s been a while,” she prompts, changing the subject.

Gramps hums an affirmative.  “Hm.  Five years, I think.  Ace was still in Foosha.”

Five years is right.  Three of those were spent without any proper company, and her grandfather didn’t drop by once.

“I saw him, you know.  He looked happy.”

“Hmph.  Should’ve been a Marine.  He’da had a future then.”

Lucy sighs. “A pirate is freer than a Marine.”

Gramps huffs, unsatisfied.

“…why didn’t you tell me about Dragon?”

Gramps shrugs.  “You never asked.”

Which is a complete cop out since he hasn’t been around since she was twelve and at that point was decidedly not lonely or curious about people she could maybe love, because she had Ace full-time then and he was the best big brother ever.  “What’s he like?”

“He’s an idiot.”

There’s a note in Gramps’ voice that seems frustrated, like an old echo of a stronger emotion.  If her dad is such an important guy who’s trying to overthrow the government, he and Gramps probably didn’t get along well.

Lucy wonders if that’s why Gramps left them with Dadan—if he just didn’t think he was capable of raising them in the end.  “I thought he was dead.”

“He’s not.”

“…and my mother?”

Gramps finally adopts an expression that isn’t grating superiority.  “I’m not sure.”

Lucy believes him, and sits, accepting a cup of tea when Gramps throws one of his massive arms around her back.  She’d prefer juice, but Gramps likes to do things fancy and proper.  He even likes the whole etiquette thing the Marines do, which is weird as all heck.  Just one more reason Lucy was never meant for that life.

“It’s good to see you, Gramps,” she says smiling up at him.

Her grandfather looks down warmly, at least for him, and noogies her affectionately.  “Brat.  It’s good to see you too.”  His smile becomes more mischievous.  “You’ve got a good crew.”

“The best crew,” she corrects.

Gramps’s smile grows nostalgic, and maybe a little frustrated.  He sighs, “You really are like him,” but then doesn’t explain further.

Lucy tilts her head.  “Like who?”  Maybe Dragon?

“Oh, no one important.”  Then he shuffles his papers and stands.  “Just remember, I’m giving you a pass now, but next time we meet on the sea, we’ll be enemies.”

Lucy nods and says innocently, “I always run away from you when I have the option, Gramps.”

“Why you little—”

Lucy finds herself sitting on top of the Galley-La docking platform towers, recently rebuilt by the giants Usopp befriended a few hours after Gramps leaves.  From here she can see the shipyard where Franky and Ice-ossan are building her new vessel, but they’re obviously wary of having anyone spy on their efforts—the entire project is covered, though she can see people buzzing around it.

Lucy bets it will be a great ship.  It can’t be anything else if it’s Franky building it.  She’s definitely going to ask him to come with them.  She wasn’t sure about it until she spoke to Robin about what happened in the tower, how Franky was responsible for getting Robin out to them.  Lucy owed him for that, but she’s going to call him nakama because then she heard him talk about the ship with such passion and care and that feeling hit.

It’s late, and her head still kind of hurts from Gramps (Lucy will never understand how his punches hurt so bad, honestly).  She still feels kind of shaky and weak.  Using Gear Second and Gear Third like that is…taxing, apparently.  A bit more so than she expected.  She felt fully rested when she woke up in Alabasta, three days after defeating Crocodile.  She feels like she could sleep for another three days now.

She probably won’t though, given all Gramps left her to think about.

Her father’s alive.  His name is Dragon.  He’s the head of the Revolutionary Army, a movement dedicated to the dismantling of the World Government, which is the same organization that tried to take Robin.

Lucy wonders if he knows about her.  If he does, she wonders if he approves.

She’s not sure how she feels about that, either way.  She’s not sure Dragon’s entitled to an opinion at all.

Lucy always assumed her parents were dead or something.  She never asked Gramps, figuring it would probably be pretty painful to talk about.  She didn’t even know for sure that Gramps was her dad’s dad.  She figured she might have her mom’s name, if they weren’t married.  Like Ace, although his wasn’t a case of not being married but of trying to protect him from assholes who hated Roger.  Lucy always kind of liked the idea that they might both carry their mother’s names.

Not the case, apparently.

A steady, familiar gait approaches from behind her.  She smiles a little, and greets him without looking because if he didn’t want her to notice him she wouldn’t have.  “Zoro.”

Her swordsman grunts, and sits down next to her, posture perfect in his lotus position.  Lucy figures his sensei must have been a great teacher.

“Thought you might be up here.”

Lucy nods and hums.  “I’m thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

Lucy snorts, and then sobers a little.  “I didn’t know I had a dad.”

Zoro doesn’t seem surprised at the topic.  “Pretty famous one, too.”

“I never even heard of him before today.”

Lucy isn’t looking at him, but she can feel Zoro appraising her mood.  “I don’t know much, but they say he’s powerful.  The Government hates him, which probably means he’s good at his job.”

Lucy wraps her arms around her knees and fingers the fabric of her shorts.  “I never asked Gramps what happened to him, or my mom.  I just assumed they were dead.”  Zoro doesn’t say anything in response.  “…I’m not mad at him.”

Zoro gives her a look that’s half-fond, half-exasperated.  “Figured.”

Lucy rewards him with a small smile.  Lucy would never begrudge someone following their dream.  Zoro, obviously, understands.

He usually does.

“I thought I was an orphan,” she tells him, and she sees him raise an eyebrow, clearly thinking of her exuberant grandfather.  “Gramps wasn’t around much, especially after I turned five.  Today was the first time I saw him in…a while.”

“…I was raised in the dojo,” he tells her quietly, and Lucy’s attention zeroes in on him because Zoro never speaks about his past.  Not once in all this time.  “It was fine.  Nice.  Didn’t know any different.  I don’t know who my parents were.  Roronoa is the last name they give to orphans in my kingdom.”

Which meant he’d never be able to track them down, if he didn’t know their names.  Lucy wonders if he ever wanted to do so.  She doubts he wants to now.

She waits for him to speak more, and then accepts that he doesn’t want to share.  “Ace and I had a nice home too.  We were raised by bandits.”

Zoro snorts.  “That makes too much sense.”

Lucy makes a face at him, feeling lighter than she has all day.  “So mean.”

Zoro rolls his eyes.  “Your eating habits speak for themselves.”

Lucy giggles a bit, and she notices Sanji’s blonde head bobbing up the street to the markets.  He’s probably going to get food for dinner tonight.

“Hey, Zoro?”

“Hmm?”

“Should I meet my…Dragon?”

Zoro frowns.  “Do you want to?”

Lucy shrugs.  “I don’t know.”

“Make a decision when you’re sure, one way or the other.”  He shrugs.  “Besides, it seems like he can find you pretty easily, if he met us in Loguetown.”

That’s true.  It also means he could probably find her any time he wanted, and chose not to.  But…she doesn’t begrudge him his dream.  If he wants to take down the government, Lucy doesn’t really have an issue with it.  “Well I guess that’s one mystery solved.”

Zoro glances at her, a bit confused, before comprehension slides across his face.  “What, the lightning?  Love cook thought it was God,” Zoro snickers.

Lucy shrugs.  “Eneru probably would have agreed.”

“That guy was an idiot.”

True.  Beating him was satisfying.  “What do you think they do during lightning storms in Skypiea?”  It can’t be particularly safe up there then.  Not everyone is made of rubber.

Zoro leans back, laying out flat against the rooftop with his hands laced behind his head.  “Beats me.  Ask Nami.”

Lucy grins, and listens closely as Zoro’s breathing stretches out, going slower and deeper until he’s safely asleep.  Then she stretches out next to him on her side, and observes.

Zoro has a nice face.  She never gets to look at it as long as she’d like, and when he’s awake he’s usually either frowning or smirking, or Lucy gets him to laugh outright.  He doesn’t usually look so peaceful as he does when he’s asleep.  Lucy likes seeing it.

She knew Zoro didn’t have an easy past.  She knew from the moment they first made eye contact, and if she hadn’t seen it then, she would have known the moment he picked up his swords, and seen the ferocity there.  She never imagined they’d have such similar stories though.

There’s a beat where she just watches him carefully, traces the line of his jaw with her eyes, watches the wind play with his hair, and then suddenly it’s like her heart might burst with affection, fondness, appreciation, want.  Her heart’s so full she feels like she might cry.

She’s just…she’s so grateful to Zoro.  For Zoro.  She’s so happy she has him, a guy who gets lost going in straight lines but who always finds her when she needs him, who never fails to make her feel better, especially when he’s not trying, who just gave her parts of himself she knows he’s never shared before because Lucy felt confused and upset so he gave her his own history so she could ground herself in it.  A guy who’s strong, so strong, and a dreamer as foolish as she is.

She wants to kiss him.  Right now.  She wants to trace his jaw with her lips, see if he tastes as good as he smells.  She wants to take his earrings between her teeth and suck on the earlobe and find out if Zoro likes it as much as she sometimes imagines he does.  She wants him to look at her with that intense, burning gaze he gets in a fight, but this time fueled by something else entirely.  She wants to hold his head in her lap, run her fingers through his hair while he sleeps.  She wants to kiss him until their lips are swollen and they’re both breathing too hard.  She wants to do more than kiss.

Lucy puts her fist in her mouth and bites her knuckle instead.

She’s not stupid.  Well she can be, but she’s usually right about people.  She knows this is more than a crush, that with them it was always going to be more than a crush.  They’re all-or-nothing types.  And when Lucy thinks about their history, the way they interact together, the way he looks at her, sometimes, she thinks he might like her too.

But she’s not ready to acknowledge that, to deal with the changes that might arise from it.  She’s not ready to handle her emotions properly, and certainly not ready to present them to Zoro.

It’s not like her to wait on things.  Especially not things she wants.

But the thing is, Zoro is cautious, when it comes to emotions.  Zoro does wait.  He’s as bull-headed as she is when it comes to their dreams and takes any opportunity to fight, but Zoro rarely warms up to people immediately unless there’s alcohol involved.  After watching him with the others, she knows the speed at which their own relationship solidified was an anomaly for him.  She can only assume that the same principle probably applies here as well.

Lucy desperately, desperately wants him.

Lucy desperately, desperately needs to not screw up.

So she’ll wait.  She’ll wait to figure out her own feelings, and she’ll wait for Zoro so he’s sure of his.  Then, when she’s sure she won’t scare him away completely, she’ll tell him what she feels.

It’s a good plan.

It’s too bad the ache in her heart isn’t terribly satisfied with that.

Chapter Text

“Really?  Usopp wants to come back?”

Lucy’s voice carries a note of hope that tears at Zoro a little.  This is the same girl who, not even a week ago, declared war on the World Government to get back one of her friends.  The thought of one returning must be just barely more euphoric than the thought of leaving that same friend behind is depressing.

Sanji looks sympathetic, and almost equally excited.  “Yeah, he was rehearsing on the beach.”

Lucy stood, her hands jetting about in choppy, enthusiastic motions.  “Then let’s go catch him!  I can’t wait to—”

“Wait.”  Zoro interjects.  “I won’t let any of you go get him.”

Nami bristles.  “Why are you being such a—”

“Shut up for a second,” he orders, but his eyes are locked on Lucy’s.  She’s staring at him a little disbelieving, like she isn’t entirely sure what’s going on.  But he also sees a flicker of understanding there, and the fact that she knows what he is about to say but wanted to ignore that reality anyway annoys him a little.  “I won’t accept him back here unless he offers an apology.”

There’s a pause, and Zoro knows he has everyone’s attention.

“Lucy and Usopp had an argument, and they both said things they didn’t mean,” Zoro starts.  He sees Lucy flush a little, and he guesses her lingering guilt over that argument is part of what makes her want to forgive Usopp so easily.  But that’s why Zoro is first mate, why Lucy needs him on the ship—to prevent her from letting her kindness hold her back, among other things.  “But in the end, Usopp challenged Lucy to a fight, lost, and decided to leave us.”

Zoro thinks about how independent each member of their crew is, how fully autonomous each are capable of being.  In a crew like theirs, making sure everyone respects Lucy properly is vital to their success.  “Lucy’s our captain.  Challenging her like that was out of line.”  Zoro’s getting angry again just thinking about that night, that argument.  “And frankly, it would be better not to have a person like that on board than to welcome him back too easily.”  Steadily, he holds Lucy’s gaze, making sure she understands what he’s saying.  He can tell she doesn’t like it.  “If the captain loses respect for herself like that, then the rest of the crew is done for.  If you let him walk all over you, I will be the next to leave.”

Zoro doesn’t make idle threats, and this is no exception.  It would be horrible, but he would do it if Lucy decided she valued one friend who couldn’t apologize properly over her dream and the crew’s dreams.  That way lies complacency, and none of their dreams will wait for that.

Zoro cares too much about his dream, hers, everyone else’s to not make that threat.

Still, when he sees the understanding in Lucy’s eyes flash to something close to panic, he feels a bit guilty, but not remorseful.  He’s protecting her and the rest of them this way.

“Don’t get me wrong, I want him to come back.  But not if he has no intention of apologizing and wants to just sweep it under the rug.”

And, knowing he’s convinced Lucy, he turns to the rest of the crew.

Nami, as expected, is the most vocal.  “Zoro, don’t let your personal feelings get in the way of this.”  Her eyes flick to Lucy and back again, and Zoro’s gaze narrows.  “I know he has his faults, but—”

“Is leaving such a simple thing to do?” He snarls.  The look on Lucy’s face is indecipherable, but Nami seems chastised. 

It wouldn’t be simple for Zoro, if he ever chose to leave.  Not only did he make an oath to Lucy, way back on that stupid Marine Base, and a second one after Mihawk, but he…well he cares for them.  His nakama.  There’s a reason he was ready to follow Lucy into probable death to retrieve Robin, a reason he did so without a moment’s hesitation.  And beyond the bonds shared with the rest of the crew, beyond his oaths, there’s the feelings for Lucy that he can’t ignore as easily as he used to.

Zoro knows he’s won the fight when Sanji agrees with him.  “Nami-san, unfortunately…he’s right this time.”

“There’s no way we can trust someone who makes those decisions on a whim,” Zoro explains.  And trust is vital among them—they need it in order to function the way they do.  They trust each other to fight, trust each other to win, trust each other to pursue the goals they’ve set out to accomplish.  “If the first thing he does is offer his deepest apologies,” preferably with a lot of assurances to Lucy that he thinks she’s a great captain and he’s sorry for being an insecure dick, “then it’s fine.  But if not...” Zoro thinks of the three kids that tailed after Usopp back in his hometown, calling themselves pirates.  This is not like that.  This is their dreams on the line—his, Lucy’s, and everyone else’s—and Zoro will be damned if he doesn’t make sure everyone takes that seriously. “We’re not kids playing pirates here.  This is real!”

Lucy closes her eyes for a moment, and then resolve spreads across her face.  “There’s still a few days until the ship’s complete.  We’ll wait here, and see if he shows up.  If not…” her fists clench, and Zoro feels another flash of irritation at their wayward friend.  The others may not understand how tightly Lucy clings to people, how she hates to watch them leave, as well as Zoro does, but they have to know she loves them.  Usopp has been testing one of her emotional weak points in every way possible ever since their fight.  “If not, then we’ll go on our way.”

The rest of the group—especially Nami and Chopper—seem uneasy, but they nod, accepting Lucy’s order.

Zoro relaxes, satisfied.

He’s sorry to strain Lucy more than she already has been this week.  He never wants to do that.  But Lucy is the captain, and because of that she can’t always afford to be as carefree as she acts.  It’s Zoro’s job to remind her where the boundaries are, even when she doesn’t want to see them.

He looks at her again, sees the frustration in her eyes but also the acceptance that this is how things need to be, and he thinks he maybe sees a little gratitude there too.

Usopp is crying, and looking at Lucy like he’s never been more grateful to be alive.

And, relieved and happy, all Zoro can think is, oh, there’s the moment.

“YOU DAMN BRATS!” Gramps bellows across the waves, and Lucy grins, utterly euphoric now that they’ve reclaimed Usopp and taken Franky.  “LIKE YOU CAN ESCAPE ME!  THIS KIND OF THINKING IS THAT SHITTY GREEN KID’S INFLUENCE ISN’T IT?  I’M GOING TO PUT HIS HEAD ON A PIKE, YOU HEAR ME?  A PIKE!”

Lucy cocks her head, a little confused even as she and the others repel flying cannonballs by the dozens.  Jeez, Gramps really doesn’t hold back.  “Why is he so focused on Zoro?”

“Robin and Sanji may have implied to Garp that he wants to, quote, ‘defile’ you,” Franky offers, her newest nakama detaching his arm as casually as most people blink.

Lucy tries to process and freezes for half a second too long—Franky has to overcompensate for her in order to protect the figurehead.

Then she whirls on her nakama, embarrassingly red.  “WHY WOULD YOU TELL HIM THAT?”

Sanji mutters something that has Nami elbowing him hard in the ribs.  “Because they like to meddle,” she explains.  Robin looks unrepentant.

Lucy sighs, then turns back to Gramps.  “I CAN ESCAPE BECAUSE I HAVE A CYBORG AND YOU DON’T.  AND YOU CAN’T HAVE ZORO, HE’S MINE!”

There’s a chorus of snorts and chuckles from behind her.  Zoro makes a choking noise.

“DON’T YOU UNDERESTIMATE YOUR GRANDPA YOU UNGRATEFUL WHELP.”

“FRANKY, NOW!”

“HOLY SHIT WHAT DOES YOUR GRANDPA EAT?”

“FUCK WHY IS YOUR FAMILY LIKE THIS?!”

Chapter Text

It’s like she told Zoro—she picks nakama based on a feeling.  That was true for everyone.  It took the longest with Robin and she got a really bad start with Franky, but eventually the feeling arrives and it’s like oh, this one’s mine.

She sees Brook, alone and conscious in his shabby suit and afro, holding a broken cup and humming a song she heard Shanks and his crew sing years ago.  He says how long has it been since I spoke to a living being? And Lucy hears please save me, I’m so, so lonely.

And there’s that feeling, sparked somewhere between the skull jokes and the nervous tittering as Nami and Sanji abandon their normal manners in the face of something new and fantastic none of them have ever seen before.  Nothing specific, just oh, this one’s mine.

“I’ve never had a female captain before,” he exclaims, hands twisting delicately, and Lucy is glad that getting Brook to agree will be much easier than it was with Franky.  “What fun!”

Sanji and Nami share a look that speaks volumes.

…yeah, Zoro’s going to kill her.

When Lucy wants to go and explore the suspicious ghost ship, Zoro sends Nami and Sanji to try and curb her ridiculousness, which is clearly a mistake he will not make again since the three of them returned with a walking, talking, apparently conscious and somewhat pervy, skeleton.

“You were supposed to stop shit like this,” he hisses.

Sanji looks uncertain, like even he’s not sure he should have given in to Lucy’s puppy-dog eyes.  “But Lucy-san wanted…”

“I’m ashamed of myself,” Nami moans, looking indeed very shamed

The weirdly polite skeleton approaches Robin.  “Hello!  Would you mind, perhaps, letting me see your panties?”

Zoro turns to Lucy.  “We’re not keeping your pet skeleton.”

Lucy just grins at him, like she doesn’t see any issue at all with the current situation.  “He’s our nakama!”

And that’s when Zoro knows all hope is lost.

Some invisible dude tries to molest Lucy and her archaeologist.

Lucy punches him several hundred times in the space of ten seconds, asks Robin if she’d like a go, and then throws him into the ocean.

Zoro hovers afterword, though he probably wouldn’t use that word, seething quietly in protective rage while Sanji frets over Robin.  Franky looks two-parts disgusted with the event, and one-part long-suffering at the boys’ antics.

Lucy lets Zoro hover, because while she can take care of herself perfectly fine, well, she likes the confirmation that he cares.  It makes her feel warm inside, a little more secure emotionally, and a little less violated.

She does draw a line when Sanji tries to egg Zoro on though, because Zoro starts reaching for Kitetsu, which he never uses on friends.  Usually she lets them fight because something about being men and being monstrously strong men makes her boys unable to communicate properly, and fighting’s how they express fraternal love to each other.  Lucy finds it frankly adorable, but today they’re both a little too close to the edge so…

It makes her more than a little smug that she can completely derail Zoro just by grabbing his hand.

“Oh hey look, it’s a dog.”

“Uh, Aneki, I don’t think that’s a dog.”

“Maybe we are going to hell.”

“Just you, love cook.”

“That is indeed, not a dog.  It is a creature known as Cerberus, the mythological guardian of the Underworld, which probably influenced later religions’ conceptions of what hell might be but is actually from a more ancient religious tradition which identified it as the realm of the dead in general, not specifically punishment for the damned, although some accounts suggest that was made possible for the most despicable of offenders.”

“Robin-chan’s so smart!”

“It looks like a dog to me.”

Zoro sighs.  Lucy, predictably, starts walking toward the dog.  Zoro has to restrain himself from pulling her back, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate it.  He’s still on edge from watching her get groped by an invisible man.  He kind of wants to pick her up and run back to the Sunny until all the craziness is over.

But he’s not going to do that because Lucy would be downright furious if she thought he didn’t believe she could take care of herself, and even madder that he wanted to keep her from having an adventure.

Lucy approaches the three-headed dog, and Zoro says nothing.

“Wanna be friends?”

“We are NOT bringing that thing on the ship, Lucy.” Zoro snaps.

“But—”

“No.”

Lucy pouts, but turns her attention back to the three-headed dog.

The three-headed dog which promptly tries to eat her.

“Ah!  Lucy-san!”  The love cook’s doing that thing where he wrings his hands because he knows Lucy doesn’t like it when he butts in but his sensibilities are demanding he help.

Lucy seems completely unbothered, and just punches the dog in the belly so hard he makes a crater in a nearby wall.

“I’m gonna train you!”

The dog whines.

“Sit!”

The dog is lying flat on his back and doesn’t move.

Lucy kicks the dog.

The dog sits.

“Down!”

The dog kind of slumps.

“Beg!”

The dog whines, giving her three sets of pleading looks.

“Close enough!”

Zoro watches the proceedings with a strange breed of long-suffering disbelief he’s only discovered after meeting Lucy.

He’s always known Lucy is good with animals.  Like, weirdly good.  Animals love her.  Even the ones that start out bloodthirsty.  She befriended that dog in Orange Town, she got that whale to stop killing himself, and then there was the thing with the giant viscous rabbits in Drum, the snake in Skypiea, and various monsters they’ve left in their wake.  She’s like a brutal version of all the fairy-tale princesses he heard about back in East Blue.

Watching her train a supposedly-mythological beast into submission is, somehow, the one that takes the cake.

Honestly, this girl just gets more ridiculous as time goes on.

“Hitoryuu…”

Lucy whips around.  “Zoro?”

She sees the flash of katana, and a sturdy frame, but something is off about it.

Still, it feels like Zoro, if that makes any sense.  But kinda fuzzy, too.  Like she has a cold, or Zoro’s not really there.

Lucy steps forward, reaches out a hand.  “I’m over here.”

The dust clears and it’s…not Zoro.  But his voice…

“You…” The voice is Zoro, but the face is not.  “Know you.”

 “What’s your name?” She asks, because why does this zombie have Zoro’s voice, Zoro’s attacks?”

“…You’re Lucy.”

“Yeah, I am.” She steps a little closer but then—

A rush of air, and everything goes black.

“To think the one Laboon was waiting for all that time was that skeleton,” Zoro mutters, still in a state of semi-shock.

Franky sniffs in agreement.  “I love that bone guy!”

And Zoro can’t help but feel a little ashamed, judging the skeleton so quickly.

“He’s perfect, isn’t he?” Lucy gushes.  “He’s a musician with an afro, he’s a skeleton, and he’s Laboon’s nakama!  I don’t care if I have to drag him on board, he’s coming on our ship!”

Franky sends Robin a vaguely resentful glare.

Robin appears not to notice and inspects her nails, making a little squeezing motion with her hand.  Franky pales and abruptly stops glaring at Robin.

Well, he supposes that’s it then.

Zoro makes his way over to the side of the ship, and jumps to the dock.

“Huh?  Zoro, where’re you going?”

Zoro doesn’t stop.  “We’ve got one more shadow to find, yeah?”

Lucy sends him a beautiful, blinding, proud grin.

Zoro is unaccountably certain that he’d do just about anything for that grin.

And really, it’s not like he could do anything else now that they know the guy’s story.  Brook has probably had the shittiest life of all of them, and that’s saying something, considering Robin.

And Nami.

And Sanji. 

And—

Okay, all of their lives have sucked at one point or another, but Brook seems to have suffered the longest stint of protracted misery of the crew.  Least he could do is make sure the guy could go outside. 

Jeez, how does Lucy just know these things?

“Shusui, the meitou once carried by a legendary Samurai.  With you as its master…it should be satisfied.”

He’d heard tales of him before, growing up in the dojo.  Sensei occasionally told them stories of the legendary masters of the past.  The ones whose names reached heaven.

The old samurai was as interesting as Zoro thought he’d be.  Weaker too, if he was telling the truth.

But then, maybe, Zoro is just getting stronger.

It’s well-made.  Zoro’s not an expert in the crafting of swords, but he’s handled enough weapons to discern quality on feel alone.  The blade is black, with a dark red hamon cut in a pattern Zoro’s never seen before.  The hilt is plain black silk, like a negative version of Wado’s.  The scabbard is dark too, with red roses inlaid in its length.  Shusui is perfectly balanced.  It’s heavy, but it doesn’t drag his wrist down when he moves with it.

But for now, Zoro meditates a little, getting used to the blade, trying to think of how it sounds with the other swords.

Where Yuubashiri balanced the more vibrant voices of Wado and Kitetsu, Shusui is a too-heavy ballast.  The sword will not help Zoro use it or any of his blades.  It is deep and dark, but not inherently violent.  It has none of Kitetsu’s bloodlust, it has none of Wado’s viscous clarity.  Instead Shusui is like a void, a black hole, endless.  It will eat anything which gets too close, and will not stand to be ignored.  He hums at a note almost too low to hear, and Zoro feels it vibrate beneath his breastbone.

When he entered the Grand Line, Zoro was not capable of wielding all three at once.

Now…he performs a basic thrust.

The shockwave ripples in front of him, bursting out as he cuts through air itself.

He takes up Sandai Kitetsu in his left, and Wado Ichimonji in his mouth.  In his head is a cacophony of voices as Kitetsu’s shrieking, ripping squeal for blood meets the low, empty darkness of Shusui, and the high ring of Wado’s ice.

Head, heart, body.  These three are him.

Wado is the head, the one that guides movement, guides life, that thinks and retains purpose, that must remain steady if she is to cut cleanly, if he is to deliver his promise, achieve his potential.  Kitetsu the heart—all emotion is here, all his inner darkness pours through the blade, is tempered in his soul, is restrained in the motion of his arms.  Kitetsu’s bloodthirstiness does not overwhelm him because Zoro knows it as his own, has held it since childhood.  Shusui is the body—swift, heavy, inevitable.  This is where the will is tested, where it breaks or triumphs.

The cacophony swells, overwhelms, and subsides into euphonic epiphany.

Yes, Zoro can wield these blades.

“I can’t believe they put Lucy-san’s beautiful shadow in THAT hideous creature!”

“Well they did, so shut up and fight!” Zoro growls.  Honestly, that damn cook is so annoying.

Oars roars, and it nearly breaks Zoro’s eardrum.  The monster swings his left fist and the topmost tower of the mansion is ripped from the foundations.

“Jeez, I know Aneki has a temper and all, but this is too much,” Franky grumbles, brushing himself off.  He looks pretty unruffled for a guy that just got thrown face-first into a brick wall at approximately the speed of sound.

“To be fair, Lucy doesn’t usually bring down castles when she’s pissed,” Nami adds, swinging Clima Tact over her shoulders.

“Well there was that one time…” Chopper looks a little worse for wear.

“Usually doesn’t mean never,” Nami retorts cheerfully.  The sea witch gets bloodthirsty sometimes.  She can be weirdly protective of Lucy though, so maybe she’s just pissed about them manhandling their captain.

Zoro’s actually kind of upset about it too.  Who knows what could have happened to her while unconscious?

“Hey, Chopper-kun, do you think it will work in reverse?” Robin asks.  The whole group turns to look at her questioningly.

Chopper seems confused, but then jumps in comprehension.  “Oh!  I guess I don’t know.  Maybe?  Lucy’s been in there longer, and we don’t have a proper distraction here.  Maybe if there was a pile of meat or something?”

“What are you talking about?” Zoro asks warily.

“Well I think it’s worth a try,” Robin asserts, coy smile on her face.

“What?  What’s the plan, Robin?” Usopp queries, panting a little.

“Well, as it turns out, sometimes the zombies will remember certain people.  We might be able to use it to our advantage.”

Nami turns around, but her hands don’t stop spinning her staff.  “Oh yeah, Sanji’s zombie remembered me.  Sort of.  Mostly he just wouldn’t let the other zombies attack me.”

Franky shrugs.  “If you have a plan, be my guest.”  He makes a sweeping gesture to the island-sized giant that is currently the body of their diminutive captain’s shadow.

Robin gets up on a stone platform as if to be more easily seen.  With the destruction around them, it doesn’t make much difference, especially not to the giant.

“Excuse me, Sencho!  Can I have your attention for a moment please?”  Robin yells cheerfully.

Zoro rears back with everyone else.  “What are you doing?”

“Robin-chan, don’t draw his attention!”

The giant peers down, and blinks stupidly.  “Eh?  What d’you want? I’m trying to pummel you.”

Robin is undeterred.  “I just wanted to make sure you knew who you were attacking, that’s all.”

The giant waves his arm in front of them, which causes winds just short of hurricane-force gales.  “I’m attacking you.  The arm people.”

Robin seems utterly unruffled.  “Yes, but you do know our names?  For instance, I’m Robin.  That’s Nami, and Chopper and Franky.”

The giant cocks his head.  “…So?”

Zoro grips Kitetsu and Shusui’s hilts.  “C’mon, we tried this already,” he says urgently.  Robin’s so close to the giant that if he decides to punch her…well they won’t make it in time to get her out of the way, let alone stop him.

Robin just gives a small smile.  “Well, I don’t know if you know, but this…” Robin points at the swordsman.  “Is Zoro!”

“Zo-ro?”  The giant says slowly.

“Oi, what’s the big—”  Nami wraps a hand around his mouth.

“Shut up,” she hisses, “this might work!”

“You know Zoro, don’t you, Sencho?”  Robin asks sweetly.  Nami slowly takes her hand away.

The giant looks sort of…blank.  Like he does when he acts the most like Lucy.  “Hmm…Zoro…”

“Talk to her!” Usopp urges, elbowing his back.  Zoro glares.

“Why me?” He growls.

“Whaddya mean ‘why you,’ just talk to her!”

Zoro doesn’t know why they think this will work, but… “…Lucy?”

The giant stares at them, face utterly blank. 

Robin takes the lead again.  “Sencho, you want to know what I heard?”

“Hmm…what?”

“I heard Moria is trying to hurt Zoro.”

“What.” Zoro asks, because what kind of tactic is this?

“Hurt…Zoro…”

“Yes,” Robin intones gravely.  “I believe he wants Zoro to marry one of his zombies.”

The giant just stares, head cocked to the side.  Then—

“ROOOOAAAAARRRRR!”

Well as it turns out, Robin’s faster than he thought.

“Oi!  Robin!  What were you thinking?” He snaps.

“Chopper and I confronted yours and Sanji’s zombies earlier.”

“So?”

The dark-haired archeologist looks a little put out as she leaps from rock to rock in her quest for safe ground.  “Well it worked with yours.”

It takes Zoro a second to figure out what she means, but when he does he blushes so hard he nearly overbalances on top of Shusui.

They win against the giant, against Moria.  They’re tired, but they win, and gather around their exhausted, reckless captain like fretful birds.

Then a bear shows up.

“Pirate Hunter Zoro,” the low, emotionless voice intones.  “Let’s start with you.”

Zoro is shaking, tired, at the end of his rope, but he can still stand so he can still fight.

He stares down the Shichibukai, takes in the bible, and wonders if this is a man who also justifies atrocities for the sake of the greater good.

The weaker pirates, the ones who just got their lives back because Lucy took out Moria, cry out in his defense, but Zoro silences them.

If he can’t fight his own battles, he’s not worthy of being the World’s Greatest.

“It’s fine, stay back.”  He curls his lips into a wicked grin of anticipation that’s just a little forced.  “It’s me he wants.”

“You have quite a reputation,” the bear man acknowledges.  “I’ve heard that Straw Hat Lucy has acquired a skilled crew.”  The Shichibukai tilts his chin.  “You guys are causing a lot of trouble.  You were unknown before, but now...it’s not only the captain who’s getting noticed.”

Usopp calls for him.  “Zoro, stop!  You’re injured, you can’t fight right now.”

“That’s fate,” Zoro tells him, hunching into an aggressive pose.  Zoro never believed in God, but he can believe in fate, destiny, whatever.  He knows his.  “When the world shoves you around, you’ve gotta stand up and shove back.  It isn’t like you can do anything by just making excuses.  If I die here, then I’m a man who could only make it this far.”  Two swords this time, and he lunges forward.  “Nitoryuu:  Rashomon!”

He lands in a low crouch—an acceptable variation on the form—but it still pulls at his injuries.

There, that should—

A shadow.

He’s above—!

Zoro flips out of the way, but the attack catches him on the shoulder and he spins away.  He lands safely, if inelegantly, and looks behind.

There’s a…pawprint…impressed on the earth beneath his previous spot.

He looks up just in time to see the bear push his hand towards his head.

Zoro dodges—barely—but feels air pressure rip past his face and the sound of rock crunching, and he turns to see another pawprint impressed on the cement behind him.

Zoro, panting, turns back to the bear.

The Shichibukai’s face is like stone.

That’s when he knows they’re in trouble.

Chapter Text

“I will spare your lives,” the Shichibukai intones, hands glowing with the pressure of the matter compressed between them, “if you give me Straw Hat Lucy’s head.”

Everything in Zoro goes cold.

Give him Lucy?  Give him Lucy, who still giggles at Sanji’s smoke rings even though she’s seen them a thousand times now, who bugs Nami into lecturing her whenever the redhead gets too somber, who asked Robin to teach her how to read because apparently bandits don’t bother, and who listens in rapt attention to every one of Usopp’s stories and believes every lie because she know he needs someone who does.  Lucy, who lets Chopper bandage her even after she’s healed just so Chopper feels better about her ridiculously accelerated healing rate, who let Franky adopt her as his new little sister because he missed his underlings back at Water 7.  Lucy, who saw a lonely skeleton and knew she wanted him as nakama before she even knew his name.

Lucy, who sometimes sits near Zoro when he’s napping so he can rest easier, who touches him freely, like no one else ever has, like he didn’t know he needed, who looked at a man crucified and said him, I want him.  Lucy, who never brushes her hair and still looks beautiful, every day, so much so Zoro’s chest constricts when he sees her.  Lucy, who has never been afraid of his darkness, never did anything less than trust him.  Lucy, who smiles and laughs and makes Zoro feel lighter, untethered, free.

Lucy, who is so strong, so powerful, so possessed by conviction, that she warps reality itself to suit her. Lucy, who is constantly looking forward to the next horizon, who meets every adventure with cheer and enthusiasm, who is the closest thing on earth to sea and sunlight personified.

And this man…wants them to give her up?

Even if honor would allow it, even if it wasn’t a terrible insult to their entire crew to even ask—

“NO WAY IN HELL,” Zoro screams, and he’s completely unsurprised to hear everyone else join in chorus.

“Ursus Shock.”

Zoro is alive.

Zoro is alive and he’s awake.

Footsteps.

Lucy.

The bear man raises his paw to her, covered in bandages from her armpits down, and wearing nothing but her shorts because her orange top didn’t survive the disfigurement ingesting the shadows caused.

Zoro can barely see, but he runs toward Kuma and Lucy anyway.

You won’t touch her.

“Shishi Sonson.”

He lands behind the Shichibukai, breathing hard.

Everything hurts.  He’s so, so tired.  He can barely grip his sword.

He lands in an informal pose—Sensei would disprove—but he lands balanced, and hopefully he’s taken the bastard’s arm off.

But then he hears a sound, like the whir of a pully spun too fast.

Kuma’s arm is stitching itself together.

“Dammit…” he pants.  “You’re a cyborg, like Franky.”

Red light gathers in the Shichibukai’s mouth as he turns toward Zoro, and he knows he cannot be hit by that.

Kuma fires, and Zoro dodges under the beam, light a gash before his eyes, but when it hits the rock behind him the shockwave sends him flying, up and over and out of control.  His head is so close to the thick beam of destruction his shirt singes, and he lands head-first in a slab of concrete.  Aching, he tries to get up to his elbows, desperate to stand.

“I am a Pacifista.  An incomplete human weapon, created by the World Government.”

The World Government.  The same people that took Robin, that Lucy declared war on.

Is that what this is about?  Enies Lobby?

But…no, that didn’t make sense.  They’d want to make a show about that, executing the person who so openly defied them.  And the papers didn’t include the details—Nami even theorized that they didn’t know about the flag, since everyone who saw was killed by either a Straw Hat or the Buster Call.

No…this is something else.

“You’re not made of steel,” Zoro hedges, fighting for breath, fighting to even move his legs.  Just a guess, but he’s pretty sure steel would melt under a power like that beam.  Also, he can cut steel.

“I was created by Dr. Vegapunk.  He’s a genius working for the Marines.  We would be at a disadvantage without him.”

Zoro almost wants to laugh.  What is with overpowered assholes trying to claim they’re the underdogs?

But the truth is, he’s in a bad way here.  No one else is awake, and even if they were, everyone’s injured.  Zoro can barely move.  The only thing keeping him going is the horrifying idea of Lucy being killed while unconscious, not even knowing she’s in danger.

There’re so few times Lucy needs Zoro to protect her.  She’s so strong on her own she rarely struggles with any physical obstacle before her.  Zoro protects her emotions, sure, and the rest of the crew so she doesn’t have to worry, but she’s never needed him to win a fight for her.  And yeah, occasionally it feels a little emasculating considering his less-than-platonic feelings for her, like on Jaya, but only when he wants to hurt people for hurting her.  Her strength doesn’t make him feel inferior—it awes him.

Lucy’s never been in the line of fire like this though, unable to protect herself, and depending on Zoro and only Zoro to keep her alive.

“Why must you take Lucy’s head?”  He asks.  If there’s one thing Nami and Usopp have taught him, it’s that sometimes problems that can’t be solved with a blade can be solved with his head.

“I have given you my best offer,” the bear says lowly, like he is disappointed in their refusal.

But that’s bullshit, because it wasn’t an offer at all.

None of them, not a single one, would ever dream of betraying Lucy like that.  Lucy, who would give anything up for any of them, who claimed them so strongly that she carved a place for herself in each of their hearts.  The Straw Hats could no more betray her than they could betray themselves.  Kuma’s choice was no choice at all.

And even less so for Zoro, because…

What would you give up for her, I wonder? Ace asked him all those weeks ago, on a cold night in Alabasta’s desert.

More than I should, he said then.

Everything, anything, he’d answer now.

There’s nothing Zoro wouldn’t give for her.  His mind, his body, his soul—if Lucy lives, he gladly gives it all.

He’d give her even his dream.

I’m sorry, Kuina.  My name will not reach heaven after all.

“I understand,” he pants.  He can barely keep his eyes open, and he’s straining for consciousness, but he prostrates himself with as much dignity as he can.  “But if you must take a head…let it be mine.”

…but I swear to you, hers will.  We can watch her do it together.  Then you’ll understand why I let our dream go for hers.

“I’m not worth as much as her yet,” he acknowledges, “but I swear, if you don’t kill me here, I will be the World’s Greatest Swordsman, one day.  And you will regret your choice then.”

You’ll like her, Kuina.

“Even with such ambition, you would sacrifice yourself for her?”

“I can’t call myself a man if I do any differently.  I couldn’t look anyone in the eye, and certainly wouldn’t call myself the World’s Greatest if I can’t even protect my captain.”  Zoro looks up, feeling fire burn from somewhere deep in his chest, and he thinks this is faith.  “Lucy…will be Pirate King!”

And if the world doesn’t know it now, they will, one day.  So long as she makes it through this day, and the one after that.

Kuma’s face is inscrutable.  “Is it love or loyalty that pushes you so far?”

“Oh both, definitely,” a new voice answers, and Zoro’s stomach swoops unpleasantly when he sees Sanji limp, as dignified as he possibly can on a broken leg, to him and Kuma.  “But can you blame the poor bastard?  Lucy-san is a remarkable woman.”  Sanji turns his glare on Zoro.  “Asshole.  What’ll happen to your ambition if you die, hmm?”

“You idiot,” Zoro groans.  He’s barely conscious, he can’t have a fight with Sanji now.

The cook doesn’t seem to give a shit, and takes a stance right in front of him, between Kuma and the swordsman.  “And what do you think Lucy will feel if she finds out you died for her?  You, of all people?”  Sanji shakes his head, almost chiding.  “I can’t let you go around making ladies cry, you brutish swordsman.”  Sanji turns his attention to Kuma.  “Ignore the Moss Head.  He’s a fool for Lucy.  Take me instead, you hear?”

“You idiot,” Zoro growls.

“I know the Marines are still taking me lightly,” Sanji starts, and he’s shaking so badly Zoro doesn’t know how he’s keeping his voice steady, let alone standing.  A bone is protruding from his left leg.  “But one day I’ll have the highest bounty on the crew!”

Kuma says nothing.  Zoro’s not even sure he blinks.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sanji goads.  “Take my life.  The ladies will still cry, but Lucy-san will be inconsolable if you take the idiot swordsman.”

No response.

Sanji is clearly losing patience and strength.  “Oi,” he says, and the cook doesn’t look at him, but Zoro can tell from the tone alone that this isn’t for Kuma.  “Say goodbye to everyone for me.  Make sure you tell everyone I’m sorry to put them out.  You’ll need to find a new cook—”

Zoro can’t take it anymore, and with a final surge of adrenaline he leaps to his feet and slams Shusui’s hilt into Sanji’s side.

As if he’d tell them goodbye for the cook.  How dare Sanji try and push that on him?  How dare Sanji think so little of him?  Like Zoro would ever be able to look at any of them, knowing he let Sanji die for him.  As if he’d ever do so in the first place.

Sanji jerks, wheezes, and Zoro realizes he broke a rib somewhere down the line.  “Bastard,” he growls, gripping Zoro’s shoulder.  But the swordsman stands undaunted, and Sanji’s grip is weak and weaker by the second as it slowly sips off, until he falls, strength abandoning him, to the concrete below.

Zoro says nothing and stands before Kuma, unsteady.

He can’t move.  He probably can’t even sit without passing out right now.

He removes Kitetsu and Wado Ichimonji from his hamarki, and tosses all three swords to the concrete before him.  “That’s my last request,” he promises.

I won’t fight.  I have no plans to.  It’s not a trick.

Kuma stares at him for another immeasurable second, and then finally, sighs.

“My honor would be stained if I took Straw Hat’s life now.”

There’s relief, but Zoro does not give in to it.  “I’m in your debt.”

Kuma turns to Lucy, and pauses with his massive hands over her.  “I will not harm her.”

That’s good, because Zoro can’t stop him anyway.

Kuma picks Lucy up, snatching her by the waist.  She’s limp in his hands, like a ragdoll, and Kuma holds her carefully, respectfully.

“In exchange for my leniency, however, I will make you suffer.”

That’s fine.  Zoro practically expected that.

Then Kuma presses his paw to Lucy’s chest and he involuntarily wobbles forward a step, indignant.

But then…it’s not sexual.  Kuma’s not groping Lucy.  He’s not hurting her either.  He’s—

A large, paw-shaped bubble billows out of Lucy’s back.  It’s dark red, translucent, the size of a building.

Kuma sets Lucy down gently on a clean slab of concrete.  “I have expelled from her body all pain and fatigue.  In this is all the damage caused in her fight with Moria.  If you wish to die for this girl, you’ll have to take it on yourself, and share her suffering.”  Kuma straightens, looks at Zoro.  “With your injuries, it will mean certain death.  And it will be agony.”  Kuma swipes a finger through the bubble, and a tiny circle of Lucy’s pain floats toward him.  “Have a taste.”

The blob gets closer and closer, and even weary as he is, his instincts tell him to dodge, not to touch it.

Zoro doesn’t move, and the little circle floats into his chest, right over his heart.

Pain.

Pain like he’s never felt, shooting through every joint, every muscle every ligament.  His body seizes with it, jerks and spasms as he’s set on fire, sent through hell, and he screams.

It goes on, and on, immeasurable, until he finds himself face-down on concrete, unable to feel much of anything at all.

Lucy…what did you do?

This is Lucy’s pain.  This is Lucy’s suffering.  This is the blood she stains her knuckles with and the steam that pours off her skin.  Chopper was right to be worried about those techniques, it seems.  Gear Second and Gear Third take an incredible toll on her.

His instincts won’t let him show his back to the enemy, and he rolls over.

“Well?” Kuma asks.

Is…is this supposed to be a punishment?  This pain?  This is only pain.  Zoro will take it gladly, because it’s Lucy’s, and while Zoro can handle it, and Lucy probably could as well, Zoro would rather die than let it return to her, and today is the day he lives up to that sentiment.

Perhaps Kuma knows this.  Perhaps he is kind, and giving him one last gift to give to Lucy out of respect.  He takes her pain and gives her his life.

But again…this is only pain.  And yes, it hurts, and Zoro may end up insensate after this, but…

Perhaps Kuma knows this.  Perhaps he is a sadist who prefers to kill in the cruelest, most malicious way possible—by giving him hope at the last moment, only to snuff it out.

This was never a choice.  This was—fate.

He makes a fist.  “Just…let me pick the location.”

Kuma nods, and waits for him to struggle to his feet and set off.

They don’t make it very far.  Zoro is wobbling, unsteady, and the ground is uneven.  But it’s far enough away that he won’t wake anyone with his screams.

The bubble of pain follows Zoro, and when he can’t walk any farther, he stops.

“Here’s fine,” He tells the Shichibukai.

Kuma lumbers away.  “Goodbye, Roronoa Zoro.”

Zoro says nothing.  He’s already given the man his thanks.

Zoro waits until the lumbering steps have faded, and then turns to the bubble of Lucy’s pain.

I don’t want to die, he thinks. 

And it’s true, he doesn’t.  He wants to go gather his nakama, hold Lucy until she wakes up and maybe for a while after, take everyone out to the Sunny and celebrate a job well done, two Shichibukai down and five to hopefully avoid until they’re stronger, have a bottle of sake and have a fight with the cook and listen to Franky try and fail to flirt with Robin, who will enjoy it but say nothing to indicate she recognizes his interest.  Then he’ll sleep on the lawn deck under the stars, because they’re beautiful down here on the Grand Line, beautiful, especially when Lucy’s with him and her dark eyes are sparkling and the moon turns her tanned skin pale, and she looks like one of those creatures from the stories Kuina pretended she didn’t like—a nymph or a siren, bent on stealing men’s hearts.  Maybe that’s only to Zoro, maybe she’s only after Zoro’s heart, and maybe she claimed it already a long time ago, but Zoro’s only starting to figure it out now and he wants to stay and keep learning what it means to care for this girl the way he does.

He wants all that, wants it desperately.  But he wants nothing more than he wants Lucy to live, for everyone on the crew to live, go on, pursue their dreams at any cost and with their lives at stake.  Sure, his honor is on the line—he couldn’t have done any less than offer his life for Lucy’s and still lived with himself—but what he thinks about now is his friends, the dreams they hold so dear, and their relentless pursuit of them.  And he gladly dies for that.

But maybe not.

Kuma insisted that this would kill him, and maybe it will.  Maybe Lucy’s suffering is too much for anyone but Lucy to bear.  But it’s pain.  Only pain.  And surely pain is not itself death?

Either way, Zoro doesn’t care.  Zoro can’t call himself her first mate—her nakama, even, let alone anything else—if he’s not willing to lift the burden.  He’d do this if her life wasn’t on the line.

And he’ll bear it, so he can do it again tomorrow.

Zoro shoves his hands into the orb of pain, and thinks tomorrow.

He screams.  He screams until his throat runs raw and then he screams until it’s bloody, until air scrapes past torn vocal chords that vibrate uselessly in his windpipe.  He quakes, body jerking with each blast of new pain that slams against him, through him, which blows out joints and makes him twist in agony.

Blood spurts from his old wounds and new wounds as they inflict themselves upon him, they paint the rock and earth around him dark red, and he loses track of what he’s seeing, feeling, sensing at all.  He thinks he bites his tongue but he can’t be sure, isn’t able to discern one injury from the infinite number that he’s accrued.

At a certain point he can’t even feel the new blows, it’s just pain blossoming sharp and heavy across every nerve ending, firing through every synapse and lighting up his brain with an unnatural precision and focus. 

I swear, I will never lose again!  Is that okay with you, Pirate King?

That’s right.  He can’t lose.  He promised not to.

And if he can win here, just win against pain, then he can continue on tomorrow.

The pain is relentless though, endless, and Zoro isn’t sure if he’s even conscious or not.  Zoro really needs to live through this, if for no reason other than to tell Lucy to stop pushing herself this hard, or at least backing her up more frequently so she doesn’t have to.  This is—unendurable, for anyone who is not strong-hearted, who does not have a purpose and people to protect.

Oh.

Oh.

This isn’t Lucy’s pain.  This is Lucy’s strength.

This is every blow she fired in their defense, every bruise she took to contain the beast that wished to slaughter them.  This is her protection, her love for her crew, and if he can’t bear it for her now then he’s been deluding himself without realizing it for a long time.  Lucy deserves someone who can stand by her side, and if Zoro can’t be that then Zoro doesn’t deserve the job.

Miraculously, he still stands.  And even though he knows it’s unlikely he’ll ever take another breath once this is over, he thinks if he falls that will be the end.  He’ll lose, and pain will consume him until there’s nothing left.

So he stands for uncountable seconds, in immeasurable pain, and fights to keep his feet as blood spills from his mouth and ears and as he loses the ability to see because his brain begs him to simply black out, give up, end it already.

But Zoro is resolute, and stands with his back as straight as possible and endures.

He doesn’t even realize it’s over until Sanji comes running, can feel no difference in the agony.  Every shallow breath hurts, feels like a newly broken rib.

“What’s with all that blood?” Sanji asks frantically, and when he gets no response, “Hey, are you alive?  What happened here?”

Only pain, Zoro thinks.  It was only pain.  And I survived it.

“No—”  He can’t breathe.  Can’t speak past his ripped vocal chords.  Can’t move muscles he doesn’t remember clenching.  “Nothing at all.”

Sanji reaches for him, pulls him down toward the earth, and Zoro lets him, though it’s agony.

“I’ll go get Chopper,” Sanji promises, and starts to run off, but Zoro coughs and he waits.

“L—Lu—”  There is no guarantee Kuma kept his word.

“She’s fine, you love-struck fool.”

Hypocrite, he thinks.  Like you didn’t try to do the same.

But the relief is too great, relaxes him too much, and Zoro finally, blessedly, fades into numb black darkness.

Chapter Text

Lucy wakes, and feels—

Amazing.  She feels amazing.

Is that right?  She isn’t sure.  She remembers—

Moria, the shadows, the giant, Gear Second, then Gear Third, at the same time, even, she didn’t even know she could do that, and—

Lucy should not feel amazing.  Lucy should not be conscious.

Lucy levers herself up, not a twinge in her joints, not a pull on any bandage.  She feels like she does when she annoys her navigator too much and Nami banishes her to Zoro-watching duty while he’s napping, which inevitably turns into taking a nap with Zoro, which sometimes involves cuddling, and then she wakes feeling warm, fuzzy, and well-rested.

This feels like that, but without the Zoro part.  Where is Zoro, anyway?  Everyone else is waking up.  Did he get stuck under a rock or something?

“CHOPPER!  CHOPPER, GET OVER HERE, IT’S ZORO!”

That’s—that’s Sanji.

Sanji never sounds like that.

Lucy, Chopper, and everyone else sprint to the cook immediately, and Lucy sees—

Blood, everywhere, like it spilled in a fine mist across every surface, a white shirt ripped from muscled, quivering shoulders that’s stained glistening red, a black bandana covering a tan forehead, closed eyes—

“Zoro?” She whispers, because she’s never seen him like this before.  Zoro doesn’t lose.  He promised.  “Who—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sanji cuts in, and his eyes hold guilt that he can’t quite conceal, not from her.  “Chopper, what do you need?”

Lucy could push the issue, could ask.  Sanji obviously knows something.  But—

Zoro tries to draw breath, and unconsciously chokes as his chest seizes.

—He’s right.  Zoro doesn’t need vengeance.  He needs—

Lucy kneels by Zoro’s head, removes the bandana carefully, and ties it around her own arm.  Chopper rushes in with bandages and antiseptic, tells Sanji to put pressure on the wounds bleeding most profusely.  Lucy draws her fingers through his hair, matted with blood in places, and presses her forehead to his.

Live, she thinks, begs, prays, even though Zoro would roll his eyes at that.  Live.  That’ll be enough to win.

She remains there, hunched, cradling her swordsman, until two hours later when Chopper declares he’ll wake again.

When Chopper declares Zoro mostly stable, he and Usopp carry him on a stretcher up to the main dining hall. 

It took a few hours to stabilize her swordsman, so everyone has already gathered there, and the mood is buoyant, even among the Straw Hats, now that Zoro is going to live.  Lucy is no exception, because the atmosphere is infectious, but…

She talks to Brook.  Convinces him to come with them, convinces him it’s fate that they should meet.  They’re close to the Red Line, close to the New World, and theirs is the only ship that’s going to make it to Raftel rather than turn back in defeat.  Brook agrees, tearfully, and plays the most heartrending rendition of Binks’ Sake that Lucy’s ever heard.

But it’s beautiful, too, and Lucy’s so glad he’s coming.

She socializes.  Enjoys herself.  Even dances with Usopp and Chopper.  But she can’t stop herself from eyeing Zoro out of the corner of her eye.  She can’t help but keep watch over him, and eventually, once everyone’s been satisfied with her company and she has to distract herself from distracting herself, she gives up watching from a distance and kneels next to him, taking one of his hands in hers and gently grazing the burnt skin there with the pad of her thumb.

No one will tell her what happened.

They told her how another Shichibukai showed up—Bartholomew Kuma—and how he threatened to take Lucy’s head while she was unconscious.  Then he set a bomb off, and when everyone woke up, he was gone, and Zoro nearly dead.

Lucy’s glad everyone’s alright, she’s glad she’s not dead, but…

She can’t shake the feeling that Zoro was supposed to be, or she was, and it makes her desperate to know what happened after the bomb went off.

It makes her more than a little annoyed that some of her crew members are keeping that information to themselves.

To be fair, not all of them know.  But some…

She’s sure Sanji knows.  He wears his heart on his sleeve, her cook, and Lucy’s always been able to read him.  There’s guilt in his posture, shame, frustration.  Sanji knows, certainly.

Robin, also, probably knows.  Her archeologist is too curious for her own good, too determined to leave any mystery alone.  And Robin’s so much smarter than Lucy—she will have figured it out already.

Chopper may have an idea, having treated Zoro.  Nami is the same way—she’s just shrewd.  Usopp and Franky have no idea, she’s pretty sure.  They both seem too carefree.  Brook…is actually pretty hard to read, but he doesn’t seem agitated about Zoro, hasn’t been looking his way the whole party.

Lucy assumes Zoro knows what happened, but he’s asleep.  And he’s not waking up.

So Lucy stays within sight of Zoro, just in case he decides to wake.  She enjoys herself, drinks Zoro’s share of sake, and tries not to let worry eat her insides.

Zoro is strong.  He’ll be fine.

He’ll be fine.

Zoro hasn’t woken up.

It’s been two days, and Zoro hasn’t woken up.

By now, Zoro is usually running around despite Chopper’s many protests, unable to sit still and refusing to be cowed by injuries.  Sometimes he takes a nap on the deck, just to show he can, but he watches over Lucy and the others too, and Lucy knows because she fell into the ocean after Skypiea and Zoro was the first one to dive in and get her, but because he was still kinda injured Sanji ended up having to fish them both out.

Lucy has slept this long.  Lucy slept nearly three days straight after Enies Lobby, and then the week after she slept in twenty-four hour intervals, only waking up a couple hours at a time.  But Zoro never has.  Not once.

Chopper is worried.

Lucy keeps telling them Zoro will be fine, that he’ll wake up anytime now.  She has faith in him, she always has.  If Zoro’s heart is beating, he’ll fight his way to consciousness and wake.  He promised, after all.

But, at the same time, Lucy can’t help it—she worries.  It’s been too long since she’s seen silver-grey eyes peer at her sleepily or watched him stifle a laugh at her and Usopp’s antics or seen him inform Robin about the culture and traditions of a traditional dojo.  It’s been much, much too long and she misses it.

She misses him.  More than she ever expected to miss a person.

Carefully, and doing it exactly as Chopper showed her earlier, Lucy wets a washcloth and drags it across Zoro’s chest, shoulders, and face.  Zoro’s fever is high and hasn’t shown any signs of breaking.  Chopper says it’s from shock, that his body took on too much trauma at once.  But Lucy is very careful, and uncharacteristically gentle with him.  Gentler than she ever is with Zoro.  There’s very little unmarred skin left on his body, and she worries that the sting of water in his cuts is causing him more pain.

It’s intimate, this motion.  Taking care of Zoro this way.  She would do it for anyone in her crew, but with Zoro it feels almost…domestic.

Things with Zoro always feel different than they do with anyone else.

She finishes with the washcloth and wets it one last time, wrings it carefully, and folds it neatly before setting it across Zoro’s forehead.  His face is red, but not like it gets when he drinks a lot of sake or he stays out in the sun too long.  It’s splotchy.  Pallid.  Unhealthy.

Her job done, Lucy pulls up a chair and twines her fingers with Zoro’s.

They’ve held hands before.  When Zoro is conscious and happy but pretending to be grumpy, and he lets Lucy reach out and take his hand and lead him somewhere or sometimes when she naps on him they fall asleep like that.  But Lucy’s never done this before, where she laces her fingers with his, his broad and calloused palms dwarfing hers.  She squeezes, like she’s trying to make a fist around his hand, but he remains limp, unconscious, unresponsive.

It feels like that should work.  Like all it should take for Zoro to be better is a little attention, a lot of willpower, and maybe a nap.  That’s all it’s ever taken before.

The door behind her opens, and Lucy looks up to see Chopper walk in with some medicine.

Lucy gets up without being told—Chopper has been adamant about sterilization, and insists that Zoro wouldn’t want to be seen as weak by anybody, especially not Lucy.

Lucy would protest—Zoro is the strongest person she knows—but Lucy thinks it’s probably just a ploy to get her out of the infirmary for a little while at a time.  She’s already tried arguing the point before and was met with the collective well-meaning insistence of her entire crew.  So.

As she leaves, a flash of red catches her eye, and Lucy bites her lip.

Sanji brought Zoro’s swords back the night before, and set them at the foot of Zoro’s bed.  But the thing is, they haven’t been cleaned and Zoro hates it when they haven’t been cleaned, because they can rust and become dull.

Zoro also doesn’t like it when other people touch his swords.  But he let her handle Yuubashiri before, so maybe…

Lucy makes a decision, and takes up all three swords.  She grunts a little because they’re surprisingly heavy, and leaves.

She makes a pitstop in the boys’ quarters, rifles through Zoro’s stuff until she finds the cleaning supplies, and then takes the swords over to the helmsdeck, and sits behind the sun-lion figurehead.  Robin said there were such things as sun bears, so the crew collectively decided that Sunny is a sun lion.

Lucy still misses Merry, but Sunny is her precious nakama too.  And his figurehead is big enough that sometimes she can convince Zoro to come and nap up there with her.

Settling in, Lucy lays all three swords out carefully, still in their scabbards.  Wado Ichimonji has the least decorative one, although Lucy knows the dull white leather protects a beautiful silver katana.  Sandai Kitetsu has a dark red scabbard with gold furnishings, and it complements the burgundy cord wrapped around its hilt well.  The new sword—Brook said its name is Shusui—has a black scabbard with rosewood inlay.

“You guys are really pretty,” Lucy tells them.  Zoro said once that they’re special—that after getting Kitetsu he can hear their voices—and Lucy takes that to mean they’re at least a little conscious.  Lucy doesn’t want them to be scared.  “I know I’m not Zoro but he’s hurt right now, so I’m going to take care of you, okay?  It’ll be a relief to Zoro when he wakes up.”

She takes Shusui up carefully, and slides the scabbard from the blade the way Zoro does—holding the hilt with her right hand and moving the scabbard with her left.  The black sword is heavier than the others, and longer.  Darker, and denser.  Beautiful.

But Lucy was probably right to clean the swords today.  There’s blood and gore still splattered on the surface.  Left alone it would damage the metal, and Zoro would be furious. 

Lucy’s happy to make sure that doesn’t happen.  So she takes the soft paper Zoro uses, puts Shusui carefully in her lap, and gets to work.

“Shusui, I know you haven’t known Zoro long, but usually he isn’t like this,” she tells the black blade, voice just shy of breaking.  “Usually I’m the one who gets hurt.  Zoro’s always so strong.  Nothing knocks him down, ever, and if they do he gets back up again.  There was this one time where Mihawk, Zoro’s goal, nearly sliced him in two and he still fought against this bastard named Arlong the next day, even though he shouldn’t have been conscious, even though anyone else would have—” died, she doesn’t say.  It’s too close to the present situation.  “Anyway.  He’s really strong.  And dependable.  And just—” Lucy cuts herself off again.  “You’ll like him,” she assures the dark blade.

Shusui finished and oiled, she carefully slides the sword back in his scabbard and picks up Kitetsu.  “You’re beautiful, you know.  Even if Zoro calls you a problem child.”  This sword is covered in even more gore than Shusui.  The intense blue gleam of the hamon is still visible though.  “He was really happy the day he got you and Yuubashiri.  I mean a lot happened in Loguetown, and he was kind of worried for me for a bit there, but after that he bragged about you guys.  It was cute seeing him so excited.  He was so happy Sanji couldn’t even pick a fight with him.”

And for some reason, that of all things is what makes her cry.

She hunches over Kitetsu, a cursed blade, and breaks a little at the thought of Zoro smiling, proud and easygoing and laughing a little that day on the Merry.  How beautiful and carefree and happy he was!  And now…

Her chest constricts, and she bleeds.

And now he’s lying in her infirmary, injured and possibly in a coma while Lucy is fine when she shouldn’t be.

She doesn’t know what happened.  She maybe never will, if everyone refuses to tell her.  But the thing is, Kuma has the power to deflect anything, even a direct attack by one of Zoro’s blades, and Lucy can’t look at Zoro without thinking me, it should be me.

And it hurts.  It hurts in ways she didn’t know was possible, in ways that make her want to scream and claw at her chest and sob. 

Lucy doesn’t cry loudly—she’s never been a loud crier, even when she sobs—but the tears fall on Kitetsu’s blade and she instantly feels a little bad.  Kitetsu is a sword.  He probably doesn’t feel grief.

“I’m sorry Kitetsu,” she mumbles, still unable to stop crying.  “I just.  I love him, you know?  I hate to see him like this.”

It takes her a second to realize what she said and then—

Oh.

She loves him.

She’s in love with him.

But of course, of course she loves him.  She’s loved Zoro since their eyes first met, since she heard his name.  He smiles—any of his smiles, from his wicked smirks to happy grin to full-on laughter—and she can’t breathe sometimes because he’s beautiful.

And Zoro isn’t just beautiful because he’s handsome—he is, but that’s not it.  He’s beautiful because Lucy knows how hard he works to keep himself in check, knows that he trains every day so he can protect them and use the parts of himself that scare him for things that help other people.  He’s beautiful because he has those dark things inside him.  He’s beautiful because he has a soft spot for kids that he’d never admit to, beautiful because he likes to take naps and gets lost and makes attack names out of food puns, and because powerful as he is he chose to live for his dreams, his ambitions, freedom, rather than greed or violence

And Lucy loves him.  Loves him so much it aches.  She’s crying in earnest now, soaking Kitetsu’s cursed blade with her tears, but she can’t seem to stop and she’s not Zoro—she hears no screeching voice of the blade telling her to calm herself—so she just holds onto the sword across her lap and cries, cries, cries.

Lucy loves all her nakama with a terrible sort of abandon.  She’s loved them since she was a child and promised they’d never be alone, and she’s been ferociously protective of them ever since.  With Zoro it’s the same, but it’s different too.  With Zoro there’s the same joyous claim—nakama—but there’s something else too.  Want.  Desire.  A different kind of ownership.  A different kind of bond.  He’s a—a partner, almost, rather than someone who needs protecting.  Zoro promised not to lose, ever, and she promised not to give up, and that’s always been the deal between them.

Lucy has known for a while that she likes him, wants him, even.  At first she thought it might just be attraction, but then it wasn’t, and she knew that, but this is the first time she’s ever dared to call it love.

What does she—does she tell him?  She wants too.  She’s reasonably certain it would go well.  Then maybe when she gets the urge to kiss him or do more than kiss they can do it, and Lucy won’t have to repress her feelings anymore.

But maybe—maybe he doesn’t feel the same way?  Lucy’s good at reading people but she’s never tried to figure out if someone likes her like that or not.  And then if she tells him and he rejects her, and their whole relationship is awkward.

What if—if he never wakes, then what will she—

Lucy’s hands slip on Kitetsu and she hisses as the wickedly sharp blade slices through her right palm.  It’s deep, but not so much that she needs stitches.  She has no desire to go see Chopper about it, no inclination to go inside and explain her tears, so she quickly rips off the hem of her shirt and ties it around her wound.  Blood still splatters over everything, even, unfortunately, Zoro’s bandana.  She’ll have to wash it again.  It was covered in his blood when she pulled it off—

The tears run thick and fast.

“Sorry, Kitetsu,” she mumbles again, and this time she goes for the cloth and wipes the blade down gently.  It hurts more with her hand cut open like it is.  When she’s finished, she returns the blade to his scabbard and picks up the third and final blade.

She takes Wado up carefully, reverently.  This is Zoro’s favorite sword, his oldest companion.  Lucy would sooner cut her own arm off than damage the gleaming blade.  It’s dark outside, and Wado catches the moonlight beautifully, brilliantly.

“I bet you miss Zoro too,” Lucy says.  Wado has a few nicks in the blade that the others didn’t.  Lucy won’t be touching those, wouldn’t know how to go about fixing them without damaging the swords. “Zoro’s always so careful about taking care of you guys.  He takes care of everyone, you know?  Especially me.  He’s so good about it that sometimes I forget to take care of him, too.  But he keeps me grounded, you know?  He keeps me thinking straight.  Like when I wanted to go get Usopp back at Water 7.  He makes me a better captain.  I couldn’t do any of this without him.”

It’s unlike her to overthink things.  Usually it’s more the other way around.

If Zoro was awake right now, awake and healthy and the one cleaning his swords instead of Lucy, she would have told him the moment she realized what she feels.  That’s what she’s been waiting for, after all, ever since that night where Nami was sick and she realized she has more than platonic feelings for Zoro.  At first she just didn’t know what to do with her feelings and she was content with the way things stood, and so she waited.  And then she was less content but she still didn’t know what she wanted, so she continued to wait, and now…

Now, if Zoro was awake, she’d kiss him and see how it went.

But Zoro isn’t awake.  Zoro is ill, and Lucy can’t shake the feeling that it’s her fault, her fault entirely, even though that makes no sense, and the only reason she even realized she loves him is because she’s out here on the helmsdeck cleaning his swords and wishing he was here to do it himself.

She should probably tell him.  She doesn’t know how much longer she can keep it to herself, at any rate.

Lucy doesn’t exactly stop crying, doesn’t stop feeling like she’s about to explode, but after a few minutes her breathing calms.  And, her job done, she sheaths Wado, and clasps her hands in the prayer pose Zoro sometimes does when he’s being his most traditional.

“I want to thank all of you for protecting him,” she tells the swords.  “I know he can be bullheaded and jump in without thinking, but it’s because of you guys that he doesn’t get hurt worse than he does.  So thank you.  From the bottom of my heart, thank you for saving me from this worry and fear more times than I know.”

Something shifts in the air, and for a second Lucy swears she can hear a dark, trembling chorus before it fades out again.

She picks up the swords, carefully as always, and starts walking toward the infirmary.  Chopper should be finished with the medicine now, anyway, and so it’s a good time to return the swords.  Zoro wouldn’t want them to be too far away when he’s like this, and Lucy doesn’t want to leave him alone for the night.

When she gets there, Chopper has indeed stepped out, and Lucy is relieved to see that Zoro’s skin looks a little less splotchy, a little less feverish.  She lays the swords at the foot of his bed, where he’ll be able to feel them when he wakes, and resumes her seat next to him.  She takes his hand in hers, gripping his fingers rather than his palm this time, and reaches up with her other hand to trace his hairline.

If he was awake right now, Lucy would embarrass him.  She’d tell him she thinks his face is beautiful when he’s so peaceful like this, how attractive she finds the arch of his lips, the shape of his brow and angle of his jaw.  She’d tell him she thinks his hair is ridiculous, but it suits him.  She’d tease him about his patchy stubble, and listen to him laugh in that soft, quiet way he sometimes has, and feel fond warmth seep through her.

She’d tell him she loves him.  She’d kiss him on his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, everywhere as she tried to describe the exact nature of her feelings, the depth, the well, tried to pin down exactly what love is to see if he felt it for her too.

But Zoro is not awake, and Lucy doesn’t know how to say any of those things.

So she squeezes his hand once, kisses him on his temple, right near the hairline, and thinks I’ll figure it out one day.  Soon.  It’s a promise.

It is a long time before she falls asleep, but never once does she release his hand.

Chapter Text

Consciousness returns to Zoro slowly.

At first it’s just a sense of vague discomfort.  Nothing specific, just…off, something is off.  Then Zoro realizes that he realizes something is off, and he pushes past the cottony disorientation in his head to try and establish what it is.

As soon as he does that—the moment he gains even a slight bit more awareness than before—something sharp and painful twinges in his chest, his stomach, his shoulders.  But Zoro has never been one to back away from a challenge, and he pushes for consciousness again, and this time the sharp pains from before twist into aching remnants of agony, and his eyes open as he grunts.

He can’t see anything—his eyes haven’t adjusted—and the shaft of light that hits his brain feels like a shiv to the temple.

“Eh?  Zoro!  Zoro you’re awake!”

That’s—that’s—

“L’cy?”  It’s like trying to breathe in a sandstorm.

“Zoro!”  A hand squeezes his, small and calloused.

His eyes are adjusting a little, and he can make out the dark smear of her head.  “The ‘ell hap’n’d?”

“I’m not—sure.  Here, let me go get Chopper—”

“St’y,” he grunts.  If Chopper comes back he’ll want to do tests.  Zoro doesn’t have the energy for tests.

Plus…Lucy.  He’s disoriented and weak and in pain and…Lucy.

Lucy seems to get it, because after a moment she relaxes, and squeezes his hand again.  He only realizes his eyes have adjusted more when he can make out her scar, and the way it pulls on her skin when she smiles.

“You slept a long time!” She scolds, but she’s grinning so hard it doesn’t really feel like admonishment.  “Longer than usual, even!”

“Le’ve.”

“So mean, Zoro!” Then her face crumples a bit and her eyes look shiny “I’m glad you’re awake.  You slept almost a whole week.”

Zoro jerks a little in surprise, and it sends a spasm of pain through him that aches across his body.  A week?  What the hell—

Moria.  Lucy down.  A blank face.  A deal.  Pain.

Kuma.

Well, it looks like he lived.

“I lived,” he tells Lucy, a little surprised.  Lucy’s smile is wide even though her eyes are watery.

“I kept telling Chopper you would.  He was worried, but I knew you wouldn’t lose.”

Embarrassed, Zoro looks away, ignores the twinge in his neck and shoulders.  At least his head is starting to clear a little.  “Yeah, well.  I promised.”

And yeah, he didn’t really know if he was going to live or not, but saving Lucy’s life would have been a win.  He just managed to live on top of that, so bonus.

“I cleaned your katana for you,” Lucy babbles, and she reaches over to the foot of the bed where he can see three swords resting.  “I’ve watched you do it a lot so I think I did it right.  I didn’t try and do any of the nicks though, since I wasn’t sure how.”  Then she freezes, and looks a bit guilty.  “I know you don’t like it when people touch them…”

“It’s fine,” he tells her.  If it was anyone else it might be an issue, but Lucy…well, Lucy’s different.  “Thanks.”

Actually, the katana sound a bit quieter now than they normally do.  Especially Kitetsu, who’s usually screaming at him.  They’re just as present in his head as usual, but there’s something…settled, almost, about them.  Weird.

Lucy still looks a bit nervous as she offers him the swords.  That’s also weird, because Lucy is the most unrepentant person he’s ever met.  He’s starting to wonder if she dropped them or something.

He reaches for them, tries to take Shusui’s hilt in his free hand, but he can’t quite lift his hand off the bed.  Sharp pain shoots through his shoulder and sets off small fireworks of agony throughout his body, running close along his spine.  He grimaces in response.

Lucy’s hand squeezes his fingers again, and that hurts too.  “Hey, Zoro.  Are you alright?”

He exhales slowly, trying not to scare her or snap at her.  She seems worried.  “Yeah.”  Then he takes a closer look at her.  She looks tired, like she hasn’t been sleeping.  Her hair is even more tangled and mussed than usual, and judging by the way she has stuff strewn around her chair…

“You been here this whole time?” He asks.  It’s not that he’s surprised, exactly—he saw how she was when Nami got sick—but…well he’s surprised.  Lucy can barely sit still for a few minutes, let alone a week.

Lucy’s expression is a little hard to read, but she’s smiling.  “You were sick.”

And it’s really as simple as that, isn’t it?

Something warm and viscous seeps through his gut, and Zoro finds himself relaxing a little.  This…this was worth it.  More than worth it.  Fuck you, Kuma.

“Hey, Zoro…” Zoro returns his attention to her.  Her expression is that oddly blank one she gets sometimes when she’s figuring something out.  “Do you really not remember what happened?”

Shit.

If she’s asking then she obviously doesn’t know, which means the cook was useful for once and didn’t tell anyone about his deal with Kuma.

She can’t know.  It’ll hurt her more if she knows.  She’ll feel guilty and start trying to protect him in battle, and he can’t have that.  That would make his surviving this pointless.

And Zoro doesn’t want to describe it.  Doesn’t want to explain what happened, or how it felt or how he feels.  He can’t drag Lucy to that place in his head.

“No,” he tells her.  “No clue.”

He’s never lied to her before.

Something in Lucy’s face tells him she noticed.

He holds her gaze, doesn’t flinch under the scrutiny.

“Okay,” and somehow it sounds more like an agreement than an acknowledgment.  “The others said a big guy showed up who wanted to kill me.  Do you remember that?”

“Yeah.”  Shit, he doesn’t want to talk about this.  Doesn’t want to keep lying to her.  But Kuma doesn’t matter.  Zoro plans to forget about him entirely when he’s recovered.  He shouldn’t haunt Lucy, too.

There’s a strange tension in the air.  It’s not something he remembers ever feeling with Lucy before.  It makes him…anxious.  Tense.

He hates it like he’s never hated anything before.

But he’s not going to back down from this.  Telling her would hurt her, and—

Lucy leans over to press something—his bandana—into his palm, and gently, feelingly, presses her lips to the corner of his mouth.

Zoro freezes because this—he’s—Lucy is—

Lucy is kissing him.  They’ve never done that before, not once, not ever.  But now her hair brushes his cheek, her hand shifts to twine their fingers together and her chapped lips burn into his skin, soft and clumsy as the gesture is, branding him down to the bone.

If he tipped his head to the right, even just a little, he would catch her lips with his and—

She pulls back, the kiss lasting only a moment.  There's an expression of determination on her face that he’s only seen when she's facing down an enemy, but this time it's much fonder.

He can’t speak.

He can’t even breathe.

He doesn’t know what happened just now and he’s not sure what it means.  Was this—is Lucy trying to say something?  Or is this just another evolution of Lucy’s tactile nature?  If so, he’s not okay with it.  Not at all.  Especially if every time she does it he feels like this.

“I don’t know what happened either,” Lucy tells him, a smile playing on her lips and understanding in her eyes.  His expression must be hilarious because it looks like she’s holding back laughter.  “But I’m glad you’re alright.”  She squeezes his hand again, pressing their palms together.

Oh.  So that’s—

She knows something.  She probably even suspects some of what happened.  But she’s trusting him, too.  And she—maybe—feels the same way he does.

She’s a terrible pirate.

She’s the best pirate.

Zoro squeezes her hand in turn, her small palm disappearing inside his larger one, and her fingers standing out against his tan skin.  He can feel the callouses in her palms press against his own, and the worn fabric of his bandana between them.  He’s never detested weakness in quite the way he does in that moment, because he can’t quite squeeze as tightly as he wants to.  “Yeah.”

It’s not much, and for other people it wouldn’t cover anywhere near the whole spectrum of problems and emotions they’re trying to resolve but for them…

It’s enough.

(…For now, Lucy’s eyes say, no matter how warm they are.)

Three days later, Zoro finds himself looking for a skeleton.

He finds the him in a graveyard, which maybe is to be expected, but this particular skeleton is sitting before a grave for his fallen friends, and not in the ground next to them.  Instead he’s serenading them with a violin.

Normally, Zoro would leave Brook to it, and stay away while the man grieved.  Today though, Zoro has his own dead to bury.

Zoro walks up to the grave, standing next to Brook.  Every step is painful, aches deep in a way it never has before.  It’s made apparent every time he moves—the incident with Kuma is easily the closest he’s ever been to death before.  His fight with Mihawk doesn’t even come close.

He didn’t die though.  He kept his promise to Lucy, managed to bear her pain for her, and maybe proved himself worthy as her nakama and as a man.  He doesn’t regret his choice.  He’s never done anything he regrets.

He kneels next to Brook painfully, slowly, but not weakly.  He has to use Yuubashiri’s scabbard to steady himself a little, but he manages. 

The skeleton stops playing and looks up at him.

“Oh!” He exclaims, “You startled me!  Are you alright now?”

Zoro thrusts Yuubashiri’s remains in the ground, and rests the scabbard against the hilt.  “I’m fine.  Just overslept a little.”

Brook does not go back to playing, and looks instead to the broken blade.  “And that is…?”

What, did he find it disrespectful or something?  Zoro kind of wishes the skeleton was capable of making facial expressions.  He can’t tell.

Well, Brook is a swordsman.  He might get it.  “Yuubashiri.  A dead katana.”  He clasps his hands in a prayer position.  “I’d like to take the opportunity to give it a proper send-off.”

Lucy offered to help him with this back in Water 7, but…this feels right too.  Plus, Lucy’s been clingy since he woke up, and it’s not that he minds having her attention so totally focused on him, it’s just…this feels like something to be done alone.

Or nearly alone.  Brook may be nakama now but he’s still mostly a stranger.

Brook makes a muffled noise, and Zoro glances up at him.  What, is it really that offensive to have his dead katana laid to rest among Brook’s friends?

But the skeleton says nothing, and changes the subject.  “You know I’ll be sailing with you, right?”

Zoro knew that was going to happen from the moment Lucy declared him to be nakama.  Looks like Brook finally took them up on the offer.  Zoro’s just glad he didn’t have to steal anyone’s pants this time.  “Bad luck for you, then.”

Brook looks startled, if Zoro’s reading his body language correctly. “Wha—”

“Being in this crew can be a bit of a handful,” he jokes.  His side twinges and in his head he adds ruefully, I would know.

“I am well aware!  I will do my best until the day I die!  Again!” Brook declares happily.  And then adds conspiratorially, “But you know, if I wasn’t before, your example would have displayed it well.”

Zoro tenses immediately, his head whipping around to the gentlemanly skeleton.  He knew…?

“I woke after the bomb went off, but I was pinned by rocks and could not move until Chopper-kun lifted them for me.  I witnessed the kind of man you are, and was impressed.  Few are quite so honorable.”

Embarrassed, Zoro turns back to his sword.  “I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.  Especially Lucy.”

The musician bowed his head—a sign of deference and respect, not surrender.  “I understand.  Lucy-san was quite distraught while you were asleep.” 

Zoro doesn’t like to think about how Lucy must have been.  Usually he’s the one who comforts her when shit like that happens.

“She shouldn’t have worried.”  He understands why she worried, of course, but she still should have known better.  She said she did know better.  And she certainly doesn’t need to worry now.

She really has been clingy.  And she keeps looking at him like she has something to say, but every time he asks she avoids the question.  It’s not like her, and it’s getting on his nerves.  She doesn’t have to treat him like an invalid, or like a freaking cripple.  He’s fine.

“She insisted that you would wake when you felt like it,” Brook corrects gently.  “But I daresay helplessly watching those you love suffer has a detrimental effect on anyone, no matter the depth of their faith.”

Zoro looks at the grave.  Brook is…implying something Zoro doesn’t know how to deal with.  “Lucy loves all her nakama.”

Brook hums.  “Yes.  But each in different ways, I should think.”

Zoro doesn’t know what to say to that at all, so he says nothing.

Brook seems to realize that’s as much as Zoro is willing to share for today.  “At any rate, I think it is safe to say the depth of your devotion to her is equally returned, Zoro-san.”

Zoro sighs.  As if he even knows what that means.  “Please stop talking about this.”

He did what he did because he couldn’t have done anything else, not for a single one of his nakama.  Lucy never would have forgiven him if he just let one of the others die in front of him.  Hell, he wouldn’t have forgiven himself.  And if there was one person in the world he’d sacrifice everything for, anything at all…

Well.  A life was a small price to pay, considering all the things he’d be willing to lay at Lucy’s feet.

The skeleton chuckles, and he drags his bow across the violin strings once for a high-pitched note that sounds like a laugh.  “I’m sorry if I’ve distressed you.  I just thought you might like to know.”

Zoro says nothing, because the thing is—he does know.  Kind of.  He and Lucy are…more than just friends or even nakama, at this point.  They’re…something else.  And Lucy kissing him the other day—an event which has not repeated itself since—only proves she feels it too.  She must.

But Zoro isn’t ready for feelings like that.  He witnessed the depth of his own just a few days ago.  And sure, he may have known for a while now about that but there’s a reason he never mentioned it.  He doesn’t know what it’ll do—to them, to his dream, to hers.  He’s unwilling to risk those.  He’s unwilling to provide a weakness like that for their enemies, especially now, after Kuma demonstrated so well what his are.

“It’s fine,” Zoro tells him.  “I’m going back to the ship.”

“I will remain here for a while longer, Zoro-san.  And thank you.”

Zoro stands shakily, and raises a querying eyebrow.  He could swear Brook is smiling.  “For my shadow!”

Oh.  Well then.  “I got a sword out of it.”

The skeleton chuckles.  “Indeed.”  And he plays music just a little too quick to be somber.

As Zoro walks slowly, painfully back to the ship, he thinks, privately, that if the Straw Hats ever had a funeral, the music would sound a little like that.

He thinks they would have gotten along with the Rumbar Pirates well.

“Kampai!”

Nine tankards clink together, and Lucy watches with some amusement as her nakama tip their drinks back eagerly—some with more experience than others.  This is the fourth or fifth round, and the lightweights among them are starting to display their total inability to hold liquor.

Lucy decides it will be good practice for them.  They are pirates, after all, it only makes sense that they drink.

Lucy takes a large sip of her own, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.  It’s nice to be leaving Thriller Bark.  It seems like they’ve been there for ages, which stinks.  Thriller Bark is not Lucy’s favorite place.

But they had to stay because of Zoro.  He was too sick to be traveling, and they had proper ingredients for medicine here.

The man in question is currently leaning on the ship railing, near the table.  Zoro usually prefers to stay out of the way and watch the group rather than actively participating in the merriment.  Today he seems even more reserved than usual.

Lucy covertly fingers Ace’s Vivre Card in her palm.  It’s smaller than it should be.  Much smaller.  If it’s really connected to Ace’s life force like Lola said…

Well, it doesn’t have to mean anything.  Lucy bets that hers looked pretty bad after Enies Lobby, and she was fine.  And she meant what she told the crew, that Ace has his own adventure and that he’d be mad if she interrupts.  She’s just Ace’s dumb little sister, he’d be embarrassed if she staged a rescue.

Besides, she trusts Ace to take care of himself.  He promised he wouldn’t die, and he keeps his promises, so it’ll be fine.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy sees Zoro rub his shoulder.  Pain tightens across his face, but there’s no other sign that he’s in any discomfort.

She didn’t tell him.

Lucy was going to.  She decided she was just going to tell him when he woke up, because Lucy’s not one to keep her feelings bottled up, and it’s good news.  She thinks he’ll agree.  She was just going to come right out and say it—I love you, Zoro—because she figured it would go over pretty well.

But then he woke up, and…

He wasn’t himself.  Still isn’t, exactly.

Oh, it wasn’t anything obvious.  He still behaved mostly like himself, except…well he lied to her, about not remembering anything.  Lucy doesn’t exactly know what happened, but she knows Zoro wasn’t telling the truth.  And yeah, she trusts him to have a good reason for doing so, but it still threw her.  And he was also in…a lot of pain.  Zoro did a good job hiding it, but she could tell.  Can still tell, even watching him from the other side of the ship a week later.

It wasn’t the right time.  Not for that.

She kissed him instead, because she couldn’t just…let things continue on as usual.  He never made a comment about it.  Never brought it up again, even on occasions where they’ve been alone.

She curls her fingers around Ace’s Vivre Card, and inspects the cut in her palm granted by Kitetsu.  Maybe because Kitetsu is a cursed blade, it’s been healing at what Chopper would probably call a normal rate.

Whatever happened to Zoro was…bad.  Very bad.  He’s been getting this look in his eye like he’s not really there, and Lucy just knows he’s thinking about whatever happened while she was unconscious.  It’s not fair to shove her feelings at him right now, especially since Zoro isn’t very good at dealing with feelings in the first place.

Lucy wants to do this right.  She wants it to be…a good thing, that she feels this way.  She doesn’t want Zoro to feel pressured or anything.  She wants him to be…happy.  And right now, there’s too much going on in his head for that to happen.

They have time.  There’s still half the world between her and the One Piece.

Lucy slips the Vivre Card into her hat, folding it carefully under the ribbon, and the cut tugs at her skin, but the sting barely registers.

After this cut heals, she decides.  I’ll tell him then.

Lucy watches her nakama start filling tankards for another round, and grins when she realizes Nami and Zoro are outpacing them all at round ten.  Something fond and warm fills her chest as she observes, and something soft and stronger than steel fills her heart when she watches Zoro try fruitlessly, yet again, to evade his bandages.  Chopper isn’t having it though, and has been watching Zoro even closer than Lucy.  In his semi-intoxicated state, Chopper hangs Zoro over the side of the ship to stop him—a move he would normally never get away with, and which just goes to show how bad off Zoro really is.

But it will be fine.  Zoro will get better, they’ll all get stronger, and Zoro will never need to hurt like that again.

Lucy grins, and looks out toward the horizon.  It calls her, and something in her blood answers, always.  It’s both more and less potent than what she feels for her crew, for Zoro.  It’s just—fate, maybe.

She takes another sip of her tankard.  She likes that—fate.  Maybe she wouldn’t if she were someone else, but—things usually work out for her.

Chapter Text

“We’re…we’re there!”  Nami cries breathlessly.  “The Red Line!”

Lucy, unable to contain herself, climbs up to the figurehead and bounces a little on her toes.

Rising against the blue of the sea and the pale edge of the sky is a long, red strip of stone.  Lucy can tell it must be huge, because it’s still a ways off and it looks pretty big already.  She supposes that makes sense for a wall that wraps all the way around the world.

“Amazing!” She breathes, and settles her right hand on Shanks’ hat.

She can’t wait to see him again.  She has a treasure to return.

She still has a long way to go, but now…well that’s what the Red Line is, isn’t it?  Once they cross it, she’ll be beyond the halfway point.  She’ll be closer to the end than the beginning.

I’m coming, Shanks.  Just like we promised.

“One-thousand five-hundred and fifty-eight.”

Zoro presses down on his right arm, his left holding a bar with eight-hundred pounds attached horizontal to the floor.  He holds, forcing his abs to contract and his legs to stay straight as he uses them to balance.

It hurts.

He presses down, and for a moment he’s not holding weights against gravity, he’s pushing for all he’s worth against a metal man who’s just too powerful to cut.

“One-thousand five-hundred and fifty-nine.”

His shoulder burns and there’s a flash of remembered agony—pain he can’t forget even if he tried.

“One-thousand five-hundred and…sixty.”

The burn spreads, hot and uncomfortable, down his arms and into his chest.  It’s not the good type of burning, either, which heralds new muscle growth.  This is—deeper.

“One-thousand…five-hundred and…sixty…one.”

If you wish to die for this girl…share her suffering.

And he had.  He doesn’t regret it.  So why—?

He presses down and holds, his shoulders shaking.  His chest gives a warning clench, and Zoro can feel the arrhythmia in his heartbeat.

“I…am…naïve,” he growls to himself, and to his disgust he’s forced to drop the weights to lift himself back up.

He holds that position for a while, just trying to make the burn go away without giving up completely.

He thought he was stronger than this.  Than—that.

After Enies Lobby, after they confronted an elite military force that had never before been defeated, Zoro thought…well he knew he still had a long way to go to reach the top.  He knew that.  It’s just…

Lucy hangs limp and still in Kuma’s massive paws.

The gap is still wider than he thought.

He picks up the weights again, and ignores the dangerous tremor in his heart.

“I can’t stay like this,” he grunts.  The fire in his blood eclipses the lingering, malignant weakness.  “I must become stronger.”

For his dream.  For Lucy’s.  For everyone’s.  If Zoro can’t be Lucy’s trump card, a precision battering ram that can take care of anyone she’s too busy to handle herself, well…what good is he?

He thinks, again, of the kiss she branded on him.  It never leaves his thoughts long.  He thinks it was an offer, one he isn’t ready to take her up on.  One he doesn’t yet deserve to claim.

“One thousand five-hundred and sixty-two…One thousand…five-hundred and sixty…three.  One thousand…five-hundred…and sixty…four.  One thousand…”

Fishman Island scares Nami.  Lucy’s known that ever since they brought up going there back at Water 7, and she understands why.  She’d be pretty upset if she suddenly had to get along with the Celestial Dragon that killed Sabo.

Not all Fishmen are like Arlong, and Nami knows that.  It’s like Granny Kokoro and Franky’s friend Tom.  They’ve met a few others, too, along the way.  Besides, Arlong is long gone and he’s never gonna bother anyone ever again, especially not Nami.

Hachi is a different story.

Zoro said back then that Hachi offered him a ride, didn’t seem too malicious until he tried to kill them on Arlong’s orders.  And now it turns out that Hachi is friends with their new mermaid friend Camie, who is really nice and insists that Hachi is nice, and Lucy already promised she’d rescue him.  They all did.

But Hatchi hurt Nami in the past, hurt her irreparably.  Asking her to help him is like asking Lucy to be friends with the Celestial Dragon guy.  It’s unreasonable, unfair.  It’s only Nami who can decide if she’s willing to let go.  Lucy refuses to force her to do it.

Lucy hopes she lets it go.  Holding grudges only hurts the bearer, and Lucy hates the idea of Nami stewing on something like that.  But if Nami gives the word, Lucy will turn the ship around and order a Coup de Burst to get out of here.

“Let’s save Hachi as well.”

Lucy gives her a questioning, somewhat concerned look.

Nami shrugs, and offers a smile.  “Hachi’s harmless, really.”  Nami tilts her head, eyes mischievous.  “And we can’t break our promises so easily, can we?”

Lucy grins, and knows she’s got the best crew in the whole world.   “Nope!”

Lucy breaks through a wall, screaming her head off and shouts “INCOMING.”

Zoro tenses, and it aggravates his wounds.  Apparently even swimming is difficult for him now.

He doesn’t let the pain show and starts jogging toward Lucy with Sanji at his side.

“Lucy, what—”

The wall Lucy smashed through crumbles.

Lucy reaches them in a few quick strides, and stops before them.  Zoro and Sanji flank her, with Hachi and Camie behind.

The dust clears and there’s a…yak?  Yeah, a yak.  A massive yak the size of a building.  And there’s a guy riding it…?

…Where do people find these things?

Actually, no, he doesn’t want to know.  If Lucy finds out she’ll insist on trying to keep one.

“FEEL THE WRATH OF MOTOBARO,” Sanji’s wanted-poster doppelganger cries dramatically.  “HIS HORNS RIP HOLES IN HELL AND SMASH THE DREAMS OF MEN!”

Lucy cracks her knuckles.  “I got this.”

Zoro shrugs.  He’s still injured.  More than he thought he was.  It’s just a yak.  Lucy can take care of it.

Sanji does his hand-wringing thing.  “I would be delighted to take this issue off your hands, fair Lucy-san.  You needn’t trouble yourself.”

Lucy just rolls her shoulders.  “I got this.”

Sanji makes a whining sound in the back of his throat but steps back to better protect the merfolk.  “If you insist, Lucy-san.”

Zoro rolls his eyes.

“ONWARD, MOTOBARO!”

The yak roars and charges them.

Lucy walks forward, casual as ever, and hat tipped down low over her eyes, the blue, frilly top Nami wrangled her into fluttering a little in the wind.  She looks cute—like an average seventeen-year-old girl

It’s a weird, somewhat incongruous image.  Lucy looks tiny compared to the yak, and yet…there’s something about her that makes her seem powerful.  Indominable.

Lucy tilts her head so in his mind’s eye Zoro can see her grin, and simply says, “there’s no reason to fight.”

Something slithers up Zoro’s spine—it makes the hair on the back of his neck prickle, makes adrenaline flood his system.  It’s nothing overwhelming or even particularly alarming, it’s just…

There’s a predator in his midst.

He glances around, and sees Sanji do the same.

The yak rears back on his haunches, groans, and tips over.

Zoro frowns because even for Lucy and her weird affinity for bloodthirsty animals that was…odd.  The big ones usually require a punch in the face, at least.

Lucy looks equally confused, and tilts her head.  “Mr. Yak?”

No response from the animal.

Swirly-doppelganger sniffles a little.

Zoro looks at Sanji.

Sanji looks at Zoro.

“…attribute all things strange to Lucy-san?”

Fuck, that could be the Straw Hat motto.  “Yeah.”

“There’s one thing you gotta promise me,” Hachi lectures.  Lucy can’t get over the bubbles, so she’s only sort of paying attention.  This place is so cool!

“Sure!”  It’s interesting that the trees are all stripy like that.  She’d ask Robin for an explanation but last time she asked for an explanation on a natural phenomenon Robin spent twenty minutes rambling about the chemical structure of an air molecule.

Lucy just started novels meant for teenagers, okay?  She’s not up for a discussion on air molecules.

“There are people called World Nobles here, since their holy land is so close.  No matter what happens,” the grave, serious tone in Hachi’s voice catches Lucy’s attention.  “you must not interfere with them.”

Lucy laces her fingers behind her neck.  She doesn’t really care about fancy people anyway.  “Okay.”

But Hachi seems to realize that she isn’t taking this as seriously as he is, and he jumps in front of her.  “I mean it!  Promise me now!  Even if they kill someone before your eyes, pretend you didn’t see it!”

Lucy stops and stares him down.  Lucy’s not one to make a lot of moralistic judgments but that sounds…well, wrong.  Doesn’t it?  Isn’t that wrong?  Lucy’s pretty sure that’s wrong.

But something rings a bell in her head.  This fearful behavior, the way Hachi’s voice shakes and the seriousness of his expression… 

The world killed him, and no one else!

The World Nobles?  He couldn’t mean…not the Celestial Dragons?

…Sabo.

Lucy was willing to try, okay?  She was willing to wait and judge the World Nobles on an individual basis, see if maybe the one who killed Sabo was just a rotten apple.  She even managed to pretend everything was fine, even when Robin and Nami gave her a couple of weird looks.

The one who killed Sabo was, apparently, not that far from average among them.

First there was a pirate-turned-slave—and the thought of that makes Lucy sick, going from the freedom of the sea to being owned by pigs who have never seen the world—who escaped and was nearly decapitated for his efforts.

Lucy thought that was the worst thing she’d see that day.

Then Lucy is forced to her knees, and it rankles because Lucy’s never bowed so low for anyone, not even people she likes and respects.  But everyone is bowing and Hachi and Camie are shaking, and Lucy remembers what Robin said, about doing as the locals do, so Lucy bows because it seems like that might be easier on her friends.

And then the Dragons show up.

Actually, their dog shows up first—also wearing a bubble mask, what is with these people—and pees on the escaped slave.  No one in the crowd even bats an eyelid.  They’re too busy trembling with fear.  A couple people pray silently.  Lucy can only tell because she sees their lips move in fast, panicked ways.

Then the Dragons arrive, and they look like the least-fearsome things Lucy has seen since entering the Grand Line.  They look frail and weak, almost like grass.  They wear weird, white suits with no form to them, and have bubbles around their heads.  Lucy tries to get a better look, but Hachi forces her head down, and she listens, more and more appalled, as they complain about the pirate, his attempts at escape, how he should have just laid down and taken the drugs, accepted slavery when—

Well, no pirate would ever do that.  If these guys don’t even know that, then they don’t know anything at all.

Then the girl with strange purple hair that’s twisted up in a curly style that looks alien to Lucy, walks sedately up to the fallen man, and kicks him with pointed, heeled boots.

“He can’t even move anymore,” whispers Lucy.  On instinct she starts to get up, starts to struggle against Hachi, but he seems to expect this and immediately leans all three of his arms on her back, forcing her down.  Lucy glares at him, but Hachi just looks down at the grass beneath his fingers and shakes his head.

The purple-haired woman raises her gun and declares.  “This one is useless to his creators.  Mere humans.  How sickening.”

It happens too fast for Lucy to do anything about it, too fast for her to react because she was worried about injuring Hachi, and Camie has hold of her other wrist and she struggles but—

The gun goes off, firing light and ending the man’s life.

He…had a family.  He was ranting about a family.  He was crying for them.

“HEY—”

Hachi’s hand covers her mouth and Camie’s thin arms wrap around her waist.  Lucy could shove them off.  It would be easy.  But…they’re friends, and she can’t hurt friends.

Lucy sends a glare Hachi’s way instead demanding release, but he just forces her to the ground as the Dragons waddle by, completely unconcerned with the murder that’s just taken place.  Lucy struggles against her friends, but they just cling tighter, confident that she won’t hurt them.

They’re right of course, and Lucy can only watch the Dragons leave following their every movement with fire in her gut and the instinct to fight, kill, end it for them, they’re murders, roaring in her blood, especially when they start speaking of new slaves ("I want a giant next,” “No, start with a human child, they won’t fight you so much then,” “But I so detest the weak”).

Once they pass there’s a moment where everyone left alive just stills and accepts that they survived the encounter.

Then the bystanders get up, and walk away—quickly, determinedly, and without making eye contact with anyone.  They especially don’t look at the dead man who still smells of dog piss and smoke.

This…this is what happened to Sabo.  A monster like that killed him, killed a child, and the people of Goa did nothing, they just—

Hachi and Camie release her, but it’s a long time before she speaks.

Lucy only has eyes for Camie as she runs down the steps.

She can’t stop thinking about the man in the street, about Sabo, and she detests seeing her friend in a tank like that, with a collar around her neck and desperation in her eyes.  How dare someone try to sell Lucy’s friend?  How dare they try to put a price on someone like that?

On the way down, she knows she’s causing an uproar.  Lucy doesn’t care.  People can think what they want—

A gunshot.

A groan, and a loud crash as silence fills the auditorium.

Lucy turns slowly and sees—

Blood.  Trickling down the steps and pouring from Hachi’s six limbs as it spreads from his chest like water.  He’s face-down on the steps, he’s not moving, and above him—

A fat man in a white robe stands above him, sniffing loudly, and waving a smoking, golden gun.

He’s smiling.

“Look, look, I caught a Fishman!  I didn’t even use a net!”  He giggles, and dances in place.  “Father, father look what I did!  A Fishman!”

“Oh thank goodness, someone shot him.”

“I was afraid he was going to spread disease or something.”

The World Noble waves the gun around carelessly, and wobbles down a step, still giddy.  “I shot him Father!  That means I get to keep him, right?  For free?”  The Noble’s voice screeches up into a truly inhuman register as he laughs and sings, “Free, free, the octopus is free to me!”

Everything is red.  Lucy can’t see the people in the auction house, Camie, not even her nakama.  All she sees is the crimson of Hachi’s blood and the white robes of the Noble.

She doesn’t even register moving until Hachi’s arms wrap around her, restraining.  Lucy doesn’t take her eyes off the Noble, doesn’t for one second feel the fires of her rage quell, but she doesn’t move, either, because some instinct fears for aggravating Hachi’s wounds.

“Wait…Straw Hat…” Hachi pants.  He’s in so much pain he can’t even focus his eyes on her, and his grip is weak.  “It…was my fault.  Shouldn’t have…shouldn’t have been here.  It’s not…a place for me to go.”  Like it’s his fault.  Like Hachi did anything here but exist.  Lucy carefully unravels Hachi’s limbs from her frame, and bends down to rest them gently, almost maternally, on his chest.  “Wanted to help you guys though.  Make up for…what I did with Arlong…and Nami…I’m a pirate, a bad person…I’ve never been a good person, so maybe I can make up for it like this…with punishment…”  He gasps, and tears start to stream down his face, his voice growing faster with panic.  “I’ve—you promised, Straw Hat, you did.  I wanted to make it up to Nami so I made sure you promised but I’m—I’m useless, can’t do anything right, I’m sorry…”

“Shut up, you damn fish!”

Lucy’s faster than the bullet, and her hand snakes out before the Noble’s shot can hit.  It rebounds harmlessly off her skin, and she stands slowly, taking her time with her rage.

She wants to tell Hachi not to worry, that a person like this Noble doesn’t scare her.  That she’s spent the last ten years making sure she could protect her friends from the likes of him, from the World itself.  She wants to explain to her injured friend that what he deserves doesn’t matter, because he’s her friend now and he’s trying, and he’s Camie’s friend too, so he should at least be trying to live for her sake if nothing else.

But she doesn’t.  She doesn’t say anything at all, because words aren’t necessary just now.   Instead she lets fury stoke fire in her blood as she turns to her prey.

The Noble sees her coming, watches her approach with more and more panic in his eyes, and Lucy thinks Good.  You should be afraid.

The Noble’s face scrunches in something resembling childish confusion.  “What’s with that face, commoner?”

Lucy doesn’t stop, just walks slowly up the stairs.

“Stop!  You’re filth!”  The Noble waves the gun in a fretful motion, endangering half the people in the audience with the potential trajectories.

Those aren’t for threatening people.  Shanks’ voice comes back to her, low and confident and terrifying and comforting.  She’s never forgotten.  Not once in ten years.

The Noble fires at her.  And fires.  And fires.

Lucy doesn’t stop.

People are shouting now, but Lucy can’t pick out any important voices, doesn’t care to listen to the rest, to the people who would let an atrocity like this pass.

“Stop!  In the name of the Creators, stop!  Stop!  Stop!  STO—”

“YOU PISS ME OFF,” Lucy roars, and the Noble crashes into a wall at the back of the auction house.

It feels good.  It feels like standing up for Sabo, and Hachi, and every slave that’s been sold today, for the pirate who was killed in the street.  It feels like a broken nose, and a burning flag.

Punching the Dragon feels good because she’s angry, but also because they’re not fuckin’ right.

Something opposed to freedom.  Right, Ace?

It always comes back to freedom, doesn’t it?  Freedom, and maybe pain.  Experience.

The Dragons are like children in grown bodies who don’t know pain or life.  They are shriveled things which are barely human, much less so than the slaves they burden with their monstrosity.  She can’t even hate them properly—there’s nothing there to hate, no substance to their evil.  She’s just disgusted by them, repulsed, and it infuriates her.

There’s a solid ten seconds of silence, and the only thing Lucy hears as she restrains her wrath is the cracking of her own knuckles.

Then people start losing their fucking minds.

All around her the fancy people in jewels and silk start wailing, crying, moving as far away from her as possible.  Lucy glances around, notices a group of ten or so pirates that don’t move and are in fact grinning, and then looks up at her crew.

“Sorry guys.  I hear if you punch one of them an Admiral shows up with a battleship.”

None of her nakama look particularly upset about this.

Zoro returns Kitetsu to his sheath, the blade already half-drawn.  He looks vaguely annoyed, but there’s amusement in his eyes, maybe fondness.  It’s nice to see after the last week of banked anger and frustration there.   “You just had to punch him, didn’t you?”  He frowns, maybe a bit disgruntled.  “I wanted to cut him.”

Lucy beams.

Chapter Text

Lucy doesn’t really get why these other pirate captains are hanging around with her, but whatever.  She could totally take out the Marines by herself, but Robin pulled her aside to mention that scoping out competition isn’t a bad idea, especially since they’re on her side this time, so here she is. 

Lucy doesn’t really care, so long as they don’t get in her way.  She’s still pretty pissed about that guy shooting Hachi, and one punch is not enough to abate that, no matter how taboo it might have been.  Seriously, the guy’s just lucky she didn’t Bazooka him back to the Reverse Mountain.  Fuckin’ pansy-ass weakling.

Unfortunately, T-something and Kid’s determination to prove themselves seems pretty equal to her remaining fury.  She’s not sure why, exactly, but.  They seem to be vying for top dog?

Fuck them, Lucy’s top bitch, and they better not forget it, the bastards.

“I’m telling you, I don’t need your help,” Hat guy insists.  “Both of you just wait inside for a while.”

“Yeah fuckin’ right,” Lucy scoffs.  She’s still burning inside, and she’s ready to break skulls.  Especially the skulls of people willing to defend that clod of human feces.

Huh.  Her reading and vocabulary lessons with Robin are really starting to pay off.

“I’m not passing up on a chance to kill some ‘Gulls.”  Lucy can tell Kid has killed before, and that he liked it.  Lucy’s killed before too, but she never enjoyed it.  She believes what Shakky said, about him killing civilians and bystanders.  There’s a bloodthirstiness about him that Lucy doesn’t sense much in people as powerful as he’s supposed to be.  Usually it’s just wild animals, and sometimes Zoro.  But Zoro restrains that side of himself.  He doesn’t like it, doesn’t let it run wild.  He uses and maybe enjoys it when he needs to, when it’s appropriate, but he doesn’t let it control him.

She’s pretty sure Kid doesn’t think about things like Zoro does.

People like Kid die quick.  Or that’s what Gramps used to say, anyway.  Kid is either lucky, or better at restraining himself than he seems.

“Just don’t get in my way,” she tells both of them.  She gets two offended looks in response.

“You may have a higher bounty than me, but there’re only so many Judicial Islands to storm.” Hat tells her, a bit petulant.

First off, Lucy doesn’t give a shit about bounties.  She just wants to punch things.  Second, Lucy doesn’t know why everyone’s so interested in that whole thing.  They took Robin, so she took Robin back, end of story.  “That was boring.  Sky Island was cooler.”

Hat shoots her a glance that could be curious, could be confused, Lucy doesn’t care.  He resumes a tough swordsman act.  Zoro’s is better, because Zoro is, first and foremost, a tough swordsman, so it’s not an act.

Lucy isn’t really sure what to make of Hat-guy.  He seems…alright.  He doesn’t piss her off like Kid does.  He doesn’t seem like a brawler, not like her and Kid.  He doesn’t even seem like a melee fighter, like Zoro, despite the sword.  He’s too patient for that.

Lucy decides to reserve judgment.

“My bounty is the highest one this side of the Grand Line.  If anything, you guys are getting in my way.”

“Fuck off, Kid.”

“I’m still pissed, I’m going to punch them.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a very violent little girl?”  

Aaaaaand that’s Kid again.  Fuck him.

“Shit, you should meet my navigator.”

That hat suits the dauntless very well.

It’s a weird thing to say.  Even weirder to greet someone with it.  And for some reason, even as Rayleigh tells them about Roger—the Pirate King, Rayleigh knew him personally—that sticks in her head.

Then Rayleigh name-drops Shanks of all people.

“Ehh?!  Shanks was on Roger’s ship?!”

That—that explained a lot actually.  Like how Rayleigh recognized Shanks’ hat.  And how Shanks knew all those stories about Roger that Lucy’s never heard anyone else tell before.  And why Shanks is so strong now.

She’s still a bit shocked though.

Rayleigh takes her reaction in stride, and grins at her.  “I met up with him again about ten years ago, right here.  He was missing his hat.  And an arm.”  Rayleigh’s eyes twinkle.  “When I asked about it, he started talking about you.  He seemed very fond.”

Something warm and painful clenches in Lucy’s chest, because—well—

Shanks has always, always been really important to her.  She thinks about him a lot.  She only really knew him for about two years, and even then he was only in Foosha intermittently because he used it as a base while travelling in East.  He’s the closest thing she’s ever had to a dad though, and she likes to think that, maybe, she’s kind of important to him, too.  That he didn’t just forget about her when he left.  Part of her knows that’s silly—he lost his arm for her, and he gave her his hat, she knows Shanks cares—but to hear that he talked about her to someone who is presumably important to him…

Well.  That must mean Shanks thinks about her sometimes too.

“Will you tell me about him?” She asks eagerly.  Important as Shanks is to her, she doesn’t actually know much about him.  She knows the important things—like that he’s a good person, he protects his friends, he believes in her—but not much else.  Plus, it’s been ten years, and Lucy was just a kid.  She doesn’t like to think she’s forgotten anything about him, but…

Rayleigh grins and the wrinkled skin around his scar tightens.  “I’m not gonna go telling stories about him that he hasn’t said himself.  But congratulations on making it this far—I’m sure he’s eager to see you in the New World.”

And if Rayleigh says so—Rayleigh must have known Shanks for a long time now, because Shanks isn’t that old, was probably just a kid on Roger’s ship—then it must be true.

“Really?” She asks excitedly.  “I can’t wait to see him again!”  She frowns.  “But I have to become Pirate King first.  That’s the deal.”

Rayleigh looks amused, and then sends her a questioning glance.  “I suppose you want to ask me about the treasure then?”

Lucy slams her plate down on the counter so hard it cracks down the middle.  “Don’t say a word about it!” she hisses.

Rayleigh just looks at her, and Lucy can tell he’s sizing her up.

“Hey, Lucy,” Usopp interjects.  “Maybe we should—”

“I don’t want to know!”  Lucy declares, refusing to break eye-contact with the old man.  “I don’t want to know about the treasure, if it exists, where it is, or anything else.  I’m conquering the Grand Line, just like everybody else is trying to, and I won’t cheat or be boring about it.  If you say a word, I’ll quit being a pirate,” she threatens, just to get her point across.

Usopp splutters in the background, but Rayleigh just cocks his head to the side.

“And what will you do once you’re King?  Who are you trying to rule?”

Lucy snorts.  “I’m not gonna rule anything.”  She grins wide.  “I’ll be free.”

Nothing about Rayleigh’s expression changes, but…there’s something different about his gaze.  He’s not calculating or sizing her up.  It’s more like he’s memorizing her.

“I’m really becoming a big fan of yours, Monkey-chan,” Shakky tells her.

“Lucy ruling anything would be a disaster,” Nami agrees.

There’re noises of assent from her crew, but Lucy doesn’t break eye-contact with Rayleigh.

“I’ll have your ship ready in three days,” the old man says finally.  He turns to his drink and Lucy goes back to polishing off everything in the fridge, since Shakky doesn’t seem to mind.

“We appreciate it,” Sanji concurs.

Everyone watches the old man leave, his white cloak around his shoulders.  Rayleigh, Lucy decides, is a weird guy.

She can see why the Pirate King liked him so much.

Something’s not right with this fight and it’s screwing with Zoro’s head.

It’s Kuma but it’s not.  It’s a monster but it’s a machine.  He can’t—

He ducks under one beam, slashes at the thing’s legs, and then does an awkward twist to try and avoid the other hand.  It pulls at his chest, at the deep, residual pain that hasn’t gone away since Thriller Bark, and he nearly collapses on the spot.

“Stop getting distracted, Moss Head!”

Zoro rolls out of the way, and comes up to his feet with two swords in hand.

Shit, every time the thing moves Zoro sees something else, a different place, a different thing.  He sees the real Kuma, sees how overpowered and overwhelmed he is, feels the moment he realized he was too weak to—

“ZORO.”

He dives out of the way just in time, comes up to his knees, and instinctively clutches at his chest as the pain flares.

This Kuma is different.  Last time Kuma talked to them, responded, treated them like ants, but at least treated them as people.  This time, nothing.  It’s half of what tips Zoro off to the fact that this is a fake.

Zoro runs forward to back Lucy up, Wado and Kitetsu balanced carefully in his hands.  Lucy aims a punch to the thing’s neck, and Zoro follows up with a nitoryuu move he has yet to name.

They barely make a dent.

Zoro shifts, stumbles, and—

Shit, he’s on his back.

“Zoro!” Lucy calls, and Zoro pushes himself up because dammit, he’s not supposed to be a person Lucy worries about.

“MOVE, MOSS HEAD!”

Zoro looks up just in time to see a beam levered straight at him burn through the air.  He rolls to the side, just missing the brunt of it, but then the earth around him explodes and—

He manages to hang on to his katana, but barely, and he lands hard on the ground, feels one of his still-healing ribs crack apart, feels air rush out of him.  He chokes for breath and his chest seizes again, the way it has been since the last time he saw Kuma, since he took Lucy’s pain as his own.

“Just stay down, Moss Head, you’re still injured from last time.”

“Screw you,” he groans, and tries to push himself up again.

“Zoro, it’s okay, you’re still hurt,” Lucy tells him he can picture the smile on her face, kind and warm and reassuring.

And that—hurts, because she’s never needed to direct it at him before.  They’ve always fought together, never—like this.

Goddammit, what good is he if he can’t even do this?

Lucy’s given her crew the order to run.

Lucy never thought she’d have to do that, but she did, and now three groups of three are splitting up to regroup in three days, and Zoro is a mess and—

An explosion rocks the forest.  Lucy’s nowhere near it but she’s thrown into a wall anyway

“Zoro!” Usopp calls, his voice high and worried.

Everything in her runs cold because Zoro—

Normally Lucy doesn’t worry in the heat of battle.  Even with half his innards hanging out of his stomach Zoro can put up a good fight, can protect himself and everyone around him, but today…

Zoro’s still not well.  It’s been two weeks since he was injured on Thriller Bark and still—

She knows he isn’t okay.  She knows that something has been bothering him, that his head isn’t quite together.  She’s been waiting for him to come to her, or waiting for an opening to talk about it, more accurately, but she hasn’t gotten the chance.

Sometimes he rubs at his sternum, like his heart aches.

But now here they are, facing opponents it takes her entire crew to fell, and Zoro just—Usopp sounds—

“ZORO!” She screams.

There’s no answer, not from anyone.

“Get away from Zoro, dammit!”  Usopp yells, and there’s a tall guy in a white cloak wearing a yellow suit and she can see Zoro’s red and white shirt, he isn’t moving, why isn’t he moving—

“That man’s an Admiral!” Robin screams, and Lucy swears her heart stops for a moment.

“Zoro!” She screams, like that will help anything.

Please, please, don’t let him die.

The Admiral raises his leg, and it’s glowing the same color as the beams, and—

“He can’t move!” She screams.

“Veinte Fleur,” Robin calls, and a row of arms sprout up in the grass to roll Zoro out of the Admiral’s range, but it’s not enough because—

Kizaru just disappears in a flash of light and steps on Zoro.

She’s shaking, equally furious and terrified.

“Your struggling is futile,” the admiral informs them, and Lucy starts running forward, trips over herself to get there because Zoro, Zoro, this is Zoro—

She doesn’t make it.

But Rayleigh does.

Lucy sees this for what it is—a sacrifice on Rayleigh’s part, and an offer.  A chance.

“EVERYBODY RUN.  THINK ONLY OF ESCAPE.”

“Leave me.”  It comes out barely audible, but it’s all Zoro can manage.

Usopp hefts him over his shoulder again, and Zoro feels a broken rib catch his lungs.  “What?  No.”

“I’m…the one they want.  You guys…escape.”

“Zoro.  Do you think I would ever actually be able to look Lucy in the eye again if I did that?”

“You’d…be alive.”

“Yeah, don’t count on that.  You’re just as useless as me right now, and Lucy said to go so we go.”

Zoro is about to protest—he’s a liability, he can’t move, he can barely see and Lucy will cry more if all three of them die rather than just his useless ass—but then because life is shitty and he’s a bad person the universe conspires against, Bartholomew Fuckin’ Kuma appears before them.

Not the real one, but it’s so close a likeness Zoro’s joints lock instinctively regardless.

Usopp wheels back—too fast, he nearly overbalances—and they’re fleeing in a tangential direction while Brook holds the line.

Should be me.  Should be me.

Zoro wants to scream, wants to push Brook to the side and take care of it like he always does, so Lucy doesn’t have to worry and so his friends are safe—Lucy trusted them to him, called him and Sanji over like generals to take care of their family and now he can’t move, and Brook is about to—

“FUCK OFF YOU SHITTY BASTARD.”

Zoro has never been more grateful to Sanji in his entire life.

He can’t see what’s happening—couldn’t, probably, even if he could open his eyes—but he hears a groan and then Usopp shouts “he’s aiming for you, Sanji!”

“JUST RUN YOU IDIOT.”

But Usopp proves himself a Straw Hat and doesn’t turn his back to Sanji—can’t, probably—and then the world explodes and Zoro lands painfully on the sticky grass beneath him.

“Zoro!  Zoro, I’m sorry!”

And fuck, fuck, Zoro doesn’t want him to be sorry, Zoro wants them to leave him so they can get to safety, keep carrying on, whatever.

Zoro hears the low hum of Kuma’s beam, hears it fire and from a distance, Zoro hears Chopper scream “SANJI!”

Fuck, not him too.  Lucy can’t hold this back by herself.

Lucy.  Lucy’s alright, right?  She at least got away?  Please, please, let her be alright.

A low, inhuman roar rings through the forest, shakes the trees and shit, Chopper panicked, didn’t he?

Usopp grabs Zoro again, manhandles him up so he can throw Zoro’s uncooperative body over his shoulder.  “We’ve got to get out of here, Sanji, Brook, that beam—”

“Stop, PX-1.”

Zoro looks up, forces himself to do so, because he recognizes that voice.

Another Kuma walks up to them and this time—

He’s carrying a Bible.

It’s the real one.

Usopp drops him in terror, but it’s alright because this one—this one Zoro has to stand for, there’s no choice, can’t let him think he fuckin’ beat him back at Thriller Bark, can’t let him think Zoro will just let the bastard trample over his family.  If Kuma wants Zoro to take their pain, all of it, he will.  It’ll kill him, but he will with no regrets as long as everyone gets away—

Zoro can’t stand fully, can’t straighten his spine even, and he’s coughing up blood but he looks Kuma in the eye anyway, refuses to back down.

Just try it.  See what I become.

Kuma doesn’t move, doesn’t change anything about his demeanor or expression, but Zoro thinks there’s something like respect around him anyway.  “Roronoa Zoro.  Still alive, I see.”

Zoro’s not joking when he responds with “Thanks to your mercy.”  Kuma could have killed him in a hundred easy ways, deflected his lungs from his chest or something, but he gave him the one out which let him only almost die.

That doesn’t matter if they don’t live past today though.

“Where would you like to go on vacation?”

And Zoro thinks A vacation?  Why would I need that, I’m happy as long as they’re with me.

There’s a movement and a rush of air, and Zoro blacks out before he could ever hope to understand what happened.

Lucy saw it but she didn’t—she doesn’t understand—is Zoro—what happened to—

“Where’s—?  ZORO, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?  ZORO!”

He can’t be—he isn’t, Zoro is strong—but—

Gone.  Just…gone.

“You won’t be seeing him again anytime soon,” the large man behind her declares, and Lucy could just about rip his head off because Zoro, Zoro’s gone, and this man knows—

“WHERE IS HE? WHAT DID HE DO TO HIM?”

“It’s said that Lord Kuma can send a man flying for three days and three nights.  He could be at the opposite end of the ocean, for all we know.”

And that’s—that’s unacceptable because it’s Zoro.  Zoro who is always by her side and who is so strong and steady behind her, who always lets her lean on him, who could be captain, a better captain than Lucy, but who stands with her anyway.  He can’t be so far away when he’s injured, when he needs her, what—how does she get to him, how?

Something in her chest expands and contracts so fast Lucy’s almost certain she blacks out.  But it’s not—the rest of her nakama are still here, for the moment, still alive, still with her, they just have to—

“RUN, RUN, ALL OF YOU, GET AWAY FROM THERE!  WE CAN THINK ABOUT IT LATER, JUST RUN.”

Lucy doesn’t listen as the rest of her nakama flee reluctantly, just watches in terror as Brook dives between Sanji and Usopp and the bear trying to kill her family.

Brook makes a skull joke and then—

Gone.

No—no, Brook just joined them, hasn’t even completed one adventure yet, she can’t—

“What am I doing?  Two of my nakama—” Sanji yells, maybe cries, and Lucy can feel her heart leap to her throat as he throws himself in front of Usopp, trying to protect him, “I won’t just watch!”

No, no she can’t lose him too, she can’t, not another, please, not another, please—

“SANJI RUN!”

Sanji doesn’t run, though, Sanji spins into a kick that could crumble buildings and brings it down on the menace attacking their friends, but it’s no use and Sanji is sent spinning off into the forest behind the carnage, but she hears him crash and he doesn’t vanish so he’s fine, for now, he’s fine.

But then the beast goes for Usopp and no, she can’t handle it, that’s her friend, that’s her dearest nakama, and she can’t stop it—

Her voice rings with Sanji’s as Kuma brings his hand down on the boy and—

“USOPP!”

Gone.

And Lucy tries to run to him, tries to do something, anything, but Sanji is closer and the man behind her won’t let her pass and no, Sanji, not you too—

Gone.

What…what are we meant to do now?

Kuma disappears and Robin shakes her shoulder, tries to get her to move, and then she hears him behind her, hears him speak to Rayleigh and the Admiral and—

“YOU BASTARD,” she cries “GEAR SECOND.”

She rushes him but he’s gone and then—

“Strong Right!”

“NO, FRANKY, RUN!”

Gone.

Franky was protecting Nami and now she backs up, one step, two, and she’s shaking hard enough to fall apart.  She’s terrified, Lucy is too, and she tries to get to her, but—

“NAMI!”

“Lucy…help m—”

Gone.

And the thing is, Lucy can’t even see anymore for her terror and fury, can barely pick out the forms of Chopper and Robin, who are the last, who Lucy can’t lose can’t lose can’t lose and she roars her rage and—

Chopper is in his monster form, ten meters tall and raging, and Kuma lets him approach and—

“STOP,” she begs, and Lucy has never begged for anything like this before.  “STOP THIS, PLEASE—”

Gone.

One—one left, no time to mourn— “ROBIN RUN FOR IT!”

But Robin stayed too long, was too loyal, too kind, and even as she makes a break for it Lucy knows she won’t escape just like she knows she won’t reach Robin in time but that doesn’t matter, they both try anyway and Robin—Robin, who only just decided she wants to live, Robin—reaches for her with her voice tight and eyes wide and terrified as their fingers nearly touch and screams “Lucy—”

Gone.

And Lucy—Lucy can’t—

—Breathe.

Gone.  All gone, they’re all—

She’s on her knees, sobbing, and she scrabbles at the earth in an almost childish desperation for the world to right itself.  She’s unable to contain the horror inside, can’t accept what’s just happened.  There’s a beast in her body, gnawing at her mind and soul and she can’t—there’s a whirlpool of darkness there, devouring her from the inside out and it’s made of guilt and shame and fear and loss.  Those were—that was—she’s not—

“What’s wrong with me?” She sobs, her fingers ripping hair at the roots.  “I promised they’d never be alone and I—I COULDN’T EVEN SAVE A SINGLE NAKAMA!”

She registers footsteps, hears the heavy, lumbering gait of the man who destroyed her family, who she couldn’t even stop, and never in her life has Monkey D. Lucy wanted to die but this—her friends—

Take me too.  If you’ve taken them, then take me too.

“We will never meet again.  Farewell.”

Gone.

She’s gone.

Chapter Text

Zoro wakes feeling like someone tried to tenderize him and stuffed him in a refrigerator for safe keeping.  It’s cold and damp and when he manages to figure out how his eyelids work, there’s stone above his head.

Where…?

The admiral.

The machines.

Kuma.

He jerks up and screams as pain rips through his torso, his belly is on fire and he can’t breathe and—what, what happened to the others?  Where’s Lucy, is she alright?  Where—what—

There’s another person screaming.

He turns, ignores the ache in his neck and—

It’s that chick from Thriller Bark—the one that kept making him say all those weird shitty things.

“Why’re you here,” he demands, doing his best to roll to his feet.  “Where are my nakama?  Where are my katana?”

The girl’s expression changes from afraid to determined to annoyed.  Then, “Sit down and go back to sleep, you’re still probably gonna die.”

“Why you—”

“Negative Hollow!”

The ghost flies through him and—

“I don’t deserve to be alive.”

Lucy wakes in a forest, the sun streaming down, and thinks where?

Where am I?  Where are the others?  Where—

She’s in a pawprint.

Did she survive because she’s made of rubber?  If so, the others—

She doesn’t know.  Can’t know.

“Goddammit,” she whispers.  “Goddammit.”

She has to find them.  She’ll apologize and tell them she loves them, that she’ll never fail them like that again, wrangle Zoro into telling her what’s going on in his head and then maybe tell him she loves him in a different way and—

The Vivre Card.

She takes it out, lets it lie flat in her palm, and it tugs against the direction of the wind.

That way.

If Lucy cries a little as she punches holes into mountains that stand in her way, well, no one’s around to see it.

No one.

When Zoro next opens his eyes, he can’t move, but the pink bitch is standing in front of him looking smug.

“How dare you do that to me,” he growls.  He has somewhere he needs to be, and this bitch is not going to stop him.

“Don’t talk like that.” The girl snaps.  And then her voice lightens, and Zoro kind of wants to claw his ears out.  “It’s not cute.  You belong to me now, you understand?”

Yeah fucking right. “No way in hell!”

The girl tackles him, and Zoro barely stays upright but wait, why the fuck can’t he move?  “What ARE you doing?!”

“I’m going to take good care of you!”

“Get the fuck off me, and—” Holy shit, is he in a bear costume? “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!”

“Kumashi!”

“What did you do to me, dammit, where even am I?  Let GO!”

“Bad Kumashi!”

“FUCK OFF.”

“You gonna tell me where my katana are now?”

It took some doing to convince her to untie him, but she eventually seemed to get bored with him being stubborn, so she did it.  Now the girl—Perona, apparently, since she didn’t like being referred to as “pink demon bitch”—looks a little abashed and the way she’s twirling her hands kind of reminds him of Lucy when she tries to lie and okay, yeah, that hurts a little or a lot since he has no idea where she is right now, or he is, or anybody else who matters at all, or if anyone but him survived.

“What are you leaving for?!”  Perona demands.

And, no, fuck her, he’s not spilling his guts.  “None of your business.”

So what if she doesn’t tell him where the katana are?  He’ll find them anyway and then fucking swim back to Sabaody if he has to.  Fuck.

Okay so swimming might be hard.  He’s kind of…not in the best shape right now.  He can tell Perona tried, but she’s no doctor and all her bandages are looser than they should be.

Doesn’t matter.  He’s got to get back, needs to get back to Lucy and the rest and start training harder so this never happens again, and—

“YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD GET AWAY, DID YOU?”

Zoro turns to see a massive hollow rushing him and—

Fuck.

Lucy is a fan of the Amazons.  Seriously, they’re awesome.  It’s really unfortunate they have prohibitions against outsiders because Sanji would love it there, but oh well.

(She doesn’t even know if Sanji is alive, doesn’t know if any of them are alive, but—)

It was super nice of Hancock to help her invade Impel Down though.  Seriously.  And she keeps bringing food.

“Do you like the sea king meat, Lucy-chan?”

“Yeah, it’s great!”  And without Sanji’s protein-reinforced meals she’s been starving.

“I’m so glad!  When we get married, do you want me to make it?”

Lucy looks up from the sea king meat.  “You do realize I’m in love with someone else, right?  That’s why your power didn’t work.  And why we can’t get married.”

Hancock pouts.  “But Lu-chan,” she sniffs, like something smells really bad.  “He’s a man.”

Zoro is a man.  Zoro is a manly man.  He likes sharp things and liquor and naps.  He even has a complex about asking for directions.  It’s a really good thing Lucy’s figured out how she feels about him already because this would be much more complicated if she couldn’t just tell Hancock straight out.  “He is.  And he’s a good man.  I know you had some really terrible experiences, but those do exist.”

Lucy’s pretty sure Hancock is naturally one of those people who swings both ways—she’s half-convinced the Amazons reproduce asexually like those clone lizards Robin told her about once—but it doesn’t surprise her that she prefers women.  Lucy probably would too if she was a slave for four years and repeatedly…

Well, what the three sisters implied was…gruesome.

Still, Lucy is not the person for Hancock.  She’s in love with Zoro.  She just hasn’t told him yet.

She will, when she sees him again.

(She’d know if he was dead, right?  Surely…if there was one person she could be certain of, then surely Zoro—)

“It’s so hard to find strong women though, a woman who can use Conqueror’s Haki!”  Hancock whines.  “He shouldn’t keep you all to himself!”

Lucy’s still not entirely sure what this whole Haki thing is, but she keeps getting more curious about it.  Sounds like it makes people stronger.  Way stronger.  “Sorry, Hancock.”

She may have overstated her and Zoro’s relationship status a little.  On accident.  But, whatever, she didn’t say anything that isn’t true.

Finishing her meal, Lucy walks over to the window and glances at the horizon.  They’re currently on a Marine ship and heading for Impel Down, where Ace is being kept before his execution.

He is going to be sooooooooo mad at her for this.

Well, whatever.  If he’s alive that’s all she really cares about.

She hopes he’s okay.  His Vivre Card says otherwise but Ace…Ace is Ace.  Ace is always okay.  And he promised not to die, so it’s fine.

“Thanks again, Hancock.  For the food and the ship and the clothes.”

Margret was kind enough to sew some more clothes for her.  She tried to make them in the traditional Amazon warrior’s style, but Lucy insisted on pants and an actual shirt, which is good because Lucy has a lot less cleavage than most of the Amazons seem to.  She’s wearing her sandals still, but she’s traded her shorts for a camel-colored pair of leather capris with lacing up the sides, and Nami’s ruffled blue shirt for a black, high-collared blouse that cuts off at the waist, as she prefers.  It’s habit from all those years in the forest—if anything’s covering her midriff she’s always paranoid about it getting caught on things.

“I still don’t know why you wouldn’t accept the skirt, Lucy-chan!  It would look so good on you!”

“Yeah well I don’t know how you people fight in skirts.  Pants are easier.”

“Hm.  Well in my case, showing off my assets is the only way to win.”

Lucy turns to her, curious.  “And that’s alright with you?”

Hancock shrugs, and pops a grape in her mouth.  “Why wouldn’t it be?  I get to take revenge on those who try and objectify me almost immediately.”

Good point.  “And you…like wearing skirts?”

“I do.”  Hancock tilts her head to the side, and her heels clink on the tiled floor.  “Do you not wear skirts, Lucy-chan?”

“Nope.”  And she’s good with things remaining that way.

“Have you ever tried?”

“N—”

Huh.  She’s never actually—

Well.  Suddenly she wants to try.  It’s almost like a mini adventure.  And she could use a mini adventure right about now.

Hancock seems to recognize her sudden interest.  “Here,” She offers, a smile on her face “I have one with me that will be a great color on you.  It’s a long time before we get to Impel Down, so we may as well dress up a little!”

“Is that like a makeover?”  Lucy asks, thinking about Long Ring and Nami giving her a haircut while Robin watched.

“Close enough,” Hancock tells her easily.  And she hands her a skirt before shoving her behind the partition.  “Just in case you’re shy,” she adds, smiling.  Hancock really is pretty when she smiles.

Lucy decides it’s maybe best if she never, ever tells Hancock that.  The other woman’s head might explode.

Lucy strips the pants, looks for a zipper or something on the skirt, and, finding none, pulls it on.

It’s too big for her—Hancock is taller and has a much fuller figure—but Lucy just pinches the waist behind her in a fistful of fabric, so the skirt is pulled tight against her legs, and steps out to look in the mirror Hancock set up.

The skirt is canary yellow, and cuts off just above her knees.  It’s probably a bit more risqué on Hancock, but it looks nice on Lucy at that length.  With the black blouse she looks kind of…sharp, might be the right word, even with her belly showing.  It’s not how she normally looks at all.

But it’s not…bad, exactly.  Just different.  She feels the same, just…girlier.

She wonders if Zoro would like it.

“Ah!  So pretty, Lucy-chan!”

Lucy turns to Hancock and smiles.  “It’s a nice skirt.”

“You can have it if you want,” Hancock offers with a gleam in her eye that makes Lucy vaguely uncomfortable.  “When you get back from Impel Down.  I’ll keep it for you.”

Lucy smiles and shakes her head.  “Thanks, but I think it’s the wrong size.”

Hancock frowns at the twisted lump of fabric in Lucy’s hand, and shrugs.  “Oh well.  I’ll have one like that made for you, okay?”

Lucy figures protesting isn’t going to get her anywhere productive, and neither is explaining that she has no intention to return to Amazon Lily.  After she saves Ace she has to find out what happened to her crew and probably convene with Rayleigh.  “Thanks, Hancock.”  Lucy takes a few steps forward, just to test how it feels to walk in the skirt.

Huh.  Breezy.

“I still don’t understand how you fight in these,” Lucy insists.  And she really, really doesn’t.  “How do you even concentrate with that much air down there?  And with heels?”

Hancock giggles, and Lucy hopes that the repeated rejections aren’t going to affect their friendship because she’s starting to like Hancock now that she’s not being all prissy and irritating.  “Practice.”

Chapter Text

When Lucy snuck into Impel Down, she was expecting it to be difficult.  At no point did she think freeing Ace would be easy.  But she hadn’t expected the rescue attempt to take more than a day.  She figured she’d have succeeded or died by now.

She’s been fighting non-stop for the better part of the last thirty hours, fought off a lethal dose of poisoning by shaving off a decade of her life, seen all six levels of Impel Down, just missed her brother, and now she has to climb her way out of the pit once more, and fight her way to Marineford to stop his execution.

On the plus side, she reunited with Bon-chan—his timing was impeccable, but she wishes desperately that he chose someone, anyone other than Zoro to make his entrance—and she’s made good friends with Iva-chan and all the Okama in Hell people.  She likes them.  And they know her dad?  Maybe?  Lucy’s not all that sure why they’re helping her but they are, and she appreciates it.  Plus there’s Jimbei, and she can trust him.  She just can.

But Lucy doesn’t have time to dwell on her new and old friendships.  She has just a few hours to get to Ace, and this guy just won’t stay down.

She’s beaten him, repeatedly, but he keeps getting up.

It’s a testament to how exhausted she is that this is happening.  Normally she could knock the guy out with one easy punch.

But the Vice-Warden—Hammy balls or something—is determined, and Lucy is too exhausted to do much about it.

“Your only accomplishment is reaching infamy in the outside world,” the vice-warden spits, venomous.  “First as a pirate, and now as a rebel!”  Hammy uses his staff to push himself up, leaning on it heavily and panting hard.  “You will save your brother?  How touching, coming from the scum of society!  Common people lose their loved ones day after day, and cannot sleep because people like you roam the seas!”  Blood splatters on the floor, dripping from Hammy’s nose and several cuts earned by repeatedly slamming into concrete.  “Impel Down protects them all!  If it falls, so does their sense of safety!”

Lucy…Lucy doesn’t care about any of that.

Lucy doesn’t really care if people think she’s a good person.  Lucy’s not even sure about that herself.  She just does what feels right at the time, and she knows Ace is the same.  Lucy’s not stupid, she knows some pirates are careless in a way she isn’t, that they don’t care about who lives or dies.  She knows that for other people it’s about violence and money rather than freedom and adventure.

She just doesn’t see why Ace should die for them.

“I just want to save my brother!”  She tells the Vice-Warden.  She doesn’t really get why that seems difficult for these people to understand.  Who wouldn’t do everything in their power to save their brother?  Who would just stand by?

The Vice-Warden glares, grits his teeth and—

“Quit your yabberin’ ‘bout good n’ evil!  No matter where you look—”  A large man in a black captain’s coat trimmed in gold leaps from the stairwell, and lands on Hammy’s head.  The man is down in an instant.  The man who crushed him looks up, locks eyes with Lucy.  “—There ain’t no answer, ya dimwit!”

Lucy…Lucy recognizes him.  “…Pie Guy?”

Lucy did not expect to see the man from Mocktown who comforted Nami in Impel Down.

Pie Guy looks around, still standing on Hammy, and puts his hands on his oblong hips in a wobbly motion that’s probably supposed to look dignified but doesn’t.  “Well, well!  It looks like there’s been a real brawl here!”

Lucy’s about to ask what’s going on when Jimbei steps forward and roars, “Teach!  What are you doing here?”  Jimbei’s eyes narrow and his voice darkens.  “Or do I call you Blackbeard?”

Blackbeard.

So that’s—

“Hey, hey, don’t get so worked up, will ya?”  Blackbeard counters jovially, and then straightens in recognition.  “Oh yeah, you and Ace were close, huh?  But you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree if you’re blaming me for what happened.”

Jimbei glowers, and fury coats Lucy’s veins.

His fault.  This is all his fault.

She saw Ace’s cage.  She saw the dried blood on the chains, the floor, and she still can’t get the stench of Level 6 out of her nostrils.

“You’re Blackbeard?”

The man in question looks down at her, and Lucy knows just from the way his mouth quirks and his eyes shine arrogantly that she’s being summarily dismissed.  “Oh yeah, I didn’t introduce myself back then!  Long time no see!  I was surprised to learn you’re the Commander’s sister, you know.  What a twist of fate!”  There’s a look of concern on his face that is utterly, completely out of place.  “You okay with wasting time here?  Ace’s execution is about to start.”

Lucy’s hands fist on their own.  “You’re the reason Ace got caught.  You killed nakama.”

Blackbeard’s false, almost grandfatherly demeanor grows strained.  “Like I said, blaming me for Ace is misguided, little girl.  If anything, you’re at least as at fault as I am.”

That stops Lucy cold.  “…what?”

Blackbeard’s smile grows sinister, almost malevolent, but somehow still remains friendly.  That aura Lucy noticed in Jaya is back in full force.  “You see, I wanted to take Ol’ Crocodile’s place as a Shichibukai.”  Blackbeard shakes his head, and tuts.  “I wanted to prove I was a good contender for his replacement, so I was going to take your head in Water 7.  You took him down, after all—killing you would make me an obvious candidate to the powers that be.  Ace confronted me before I could though.”  Blackbeard shakes his head in a casual, light way that in no way reflects the storm Lucy feels inside.  “He was already after me on Whitebeard’s orders, but after that?  Well, if he backed down it would bring shame to Whitebeard, but also leave you in danger.  He didn’t stop even after he was overpowered.  So you see?”  Blackbeard chuckles, dark and jovial.  “It’s your fault as much as anything!  Once I captured the Fire Fist it was easy to be recognized as a Shichibukai!  Ace traded his life for yours!”

His crew nods, and the one with the rifle intones, “Luck and Fate were on your side.”

“Lucky Lucy!”  The others cheered.  “Lucky Lucy!”

“You’ll have to thank him at his grave!”  Blackbeard laughs, like the whole world isn’t wrong wrong wrong.

She’s storming inside, too, because this—this makes…

It all makes a terrible sort of sense.

It’s exactly the kind of thing Ace would do.  He wouldn’t run, not from anything, especially when Lucy was behind him.  He is like Zoro, in a visceral way, and he’d never turn his back to his opponent.  But where Zoro lives and dies by honor, Ace lives and dies through instinct.  With Lucy at stake, nothing on this earth could have stopped Ace from fighting Blackbeard, not to mention all the stuff about Whitebeard.

Ace…

“You want to kill me so bad?” She growls, winds up, and shoots forward in Gear Second.  “WELL WHY DON’T YOU TRY IT NOW?”

Lucy hits him exactly where she meant to—it connects right in his gut, sends him flying back into a wall.  Blackbeard lets out a grunt, and sits up, clearly winded.

“I WON’T LET ACE DIE,” she screams, “JET—”

“Dark Vortex.”

Lucy flies headlong into a dark shimmer, like a tear in the universe itself, and a hand wraps around her neck and squeezes.

What—!?

Blackbeard winds up, and brings her down into the concrete hard.

She—she felt that.

Blood gushes from somewhere—her nose maybe, or one of the infinite other injuries she’s sustained so far, or maybe she’s coughing it up now—but that didn’t make sense because she’s made of rubber, she shouldn’t—

It doesn’t matter.

She doesn’t care if her limbs fall off, she’s going to kill this man.

She leaps at him once more, taking aim at the fugly smirk on his face and then—

A massive wall of blue flesh and a dark red kimono get in her way.

“That is enough, Lucy-san,” The large Fishman intones.  “Think about what’s more important right now!  We must save your brother!”

“HE’S THE REASON WE HAVE TO SAVE HIM.” Lucy roars, squirming in Jimbei’s grip.  “HE USED ME AGAINST ACE.”

“You must bear it!” Jimbei demands loudly in return.  And then he sighs, visibly trying to calm himself.  “I have known this man a long time.  He has always been strange…but somehow he’s gained enough power that even Ace couldn’t beat him.  Think about it, Lucy-san!”  Jimbei shakes her, just a bit. “If you battle him now, you’ll never be able to save your brother!”

And that…that’s true.

But still…

“…Ace was chasing you because you killed nakama.”  Lucy says quietly, but she knows Blackbeard heard her.

“Oh, I suppose that’s true,” Blackbeard responds, unrepentant and careless.

Lucy hates with a sick sort of fury and revulsion that she’s never really experienced before.

Not only is he responsible for Ace’s imprisonment, not only did he use Lucy against him, but he killed nakama?

The very thought of the same thing happening on Lucy’s crew is laughable.  It’s also sickening in a way she never thought possible.  She almost wants to throw up at the very thought.  And this man just…laughs about it?

“Jimbei.  Let me go.”

The former Shichibukai considers her for a moment, and then complies.

She steps around her friend, and she looks Blackbeard in the eye.  “I’m going to save Ace, no matter what.”

She hopes he takes that for the threat it is.

Blackbeard shrugs, and fills out his coats by replacing his hands on his hips.  “I’m not saying it’s impossible.  Hell, anything’s possible in this world!  You reached Sky Island, didn’t you?”  He laughs, and Lucy can’t help but feel it’s hollow.  “Same goes for the One Piece!  I’m sure it’s real!”

Lucy doesn’t glare, doesn’t give him the satisfaction, but she does stare at him with intent.

There’s something deep in her bones that tells her the One Piece isn’t meant for someone like him.  That dreams are not the same as unadulterated ambition, that someone who values himself over everything sacred—nakama—is so totally undeserving of the title Pirate King that the lack is almost humorous.  And it would be, if Blackbeard didn’t seem so determined, if he didn’t seem to be pursuing his goal—their goal—with abandon.

The One Piece will be hers.

“Let it go, Lucy-san.”  Jimbei intones lowly.

She doesn’t want to listen.  She wants to fight.  Teach a lesson.

…but Lucy isn’t Blackbeard, and this is like Jaya.  Like Shanks.

Blackbeard isn’t worthy of her dream, and certainly not worth Ace’s life.

“…Yeah.  Let’s.”

Chapter Text

They made it onto the ship, they’re heading to Marineford, and Lucy just left another friend behind.

She didn’t want to.  She misses Bon-chan.  She never wanted to sacrifice him.  He should have just come with them, they would have found a way—

She’s grateful.

She’s sad.

Every second that tics by makes her skin itch.  How long until they try and execute her brother?  Four hours?  Three?

Lucy’s always been chasing Ace, ever since they were kids.  She was an annoying little sister who tried to be as tough as him all the time, even when he was trying to teach her how to be ladylike, even when he gave up on that.  He was always just that little bit ahead of her, and just out of reach.

This endless chase to free him feels like a mockery of their childhood.

Jimbei approaches from behind.  “You should rest, Lucy-san.  Ivan-chan has told me about your condition.”

And yes, Lucy is tired.  She didn’t know she could be this tired and still move.  But it doesn’t matter.  The artificial adrenaline Iva-chan gave her is working, and it will continue to work and if it doesn’t, she’ll crawl her way to the execution stand and stop the blades with her own two hands if she has to.  Ace isn’t dying, and she’s going to rescue him.

Lucy doesn’t answer Jimbei.  The Shichibukai sighs, and leaves her in peace.

Vaguely, she realizes that Zoro could get her to nap with him right now, or at least relax.  Sanji would probably give her some energy-boosting drink, or something to calm her nerves.  Nami would probably chide her for being so restless, and card her fingers in her hair.  Usopp would sit with her and fidget and tell a story until she was sufficiently distracted, or she started to doze.  Robin would sit and read with her.  Franky would distract her with crazy robot poses.  Brook would offer her tea and play some music.  Chopper would probably try and sedate the tea and cuddle.

God she hopes they’re alive.

There’s a deep ache in her, one that makes her lower lip wobble just a little.

She misses them.

If they were here, she wouldn’t be worried at all.  She’d be laughing right now, carefree in her ability to share the burden.

But they’re not.  It’s just Lucy, and the people she dragged from the depths of hell.  The burden is hers alone.

She runs her finger along the angry red scar on her palm, the one Kitetsu gave her.  The scab fell off two days ago, on the way to Impel Down.  The skin is still raised and hard, white and flaky in the middle.

She wishes Zoro was here.  He’d sit with her or stand behind her, warm and silent and steady.  He probably wouldn’t even say anything.  He’d just be quietly, stoically there for her, and she’d feel better.

Lucy covers her eyes with the brim of her hat, sitting atop the Marine cannons, and wonders why the world seems so intent on tearing the people she loves from her side.

It doesn’t matter, of course.

She’s going to get them back.

She’s going to get them all back.

Okay so maybe her entrance on the battlefield at Marineford was...unconventional.  But at least they landed safely, in the one part of the ice thin enough to break, and as soon as Lucy realizes they’ve stopped moving, she scrambles.

Ace, her heart beats, Ace, Ace, Ace…

She climbs the broken ship, scurrying over the fractured hull and up to the bow, and looks over the battlefield.

Everything is white with snow and smoke.  There’s red that stands out harsh against the monochromatic background, and Lucy knows it’s blood.  A huge, hulking mass of orange and green that looks like a fallen giant, Marines in white and blue, pirates in assorted colors and a thousand different abilities flash around her, disorienting and loud and deadly, but for the most part the fighting seems suspended—they’re probably all a bit surprised at the ship that fell from the sky.

Ace, Ace, Ace…

Her eyes scan back and forth, the frost making it difficult to pick out where anyone is at a distance.  But there, straight ahead, raised on an execution stand is a shirtless boy with dark hair, kneeling on the edge of the platform and straining against his chains.

“ACE!”  She cries, relief not quite strong enough to make her voice break but close.  “ACE, I FINALLY FOUND YOU!”

She can’t hear him over the din of the battle that rages around her, but she can see his mouth move, see his lips form her name, eyes wide with incredulity and horror.

He’s alive.  He’s alive, she’s here, and she’s going to save him.

There’s a murmur of confusion that ripples around her, across every corner of the battlefield.  Her makeshift comrades are apparently recognizable enough to give everyone pause, and Iva-chan and Jimbei come up to flank her in a show of support as she drops into Gear Second.

She’s going to need it.

She ignores the calls around her, the cries of recognition, the warnings.  She doesn’t care if these people know her or not—she’s going to save her brother, opinions be damned.

Lucy’s about to jump into the fray, ready to charge, but there’s a whisper of gravel behind her and she jumps down instead, dunking herself in the icy water around the sinking Marine ship, and then leaps for the massive man who can only be Whitebeard.

She’s just in time to jump between the old man and Crocodile, and kicks the bastard in the face.

Allying herself with him left a bad taste in her mouth, but she got here, and that’s all that matters for now.

Crocodile growls, upset.  “We had an arrangement, did we not?  Why are you defending him?”

Lucy doesn’t give a shit about what Crocodile of all people wants.  “Ace likes this old man.  You’re not touching him.”

Crocodile looks at her sopping form, and backs up, stymied.  He’s no match for her.  He’s been locked in a cell the entire time she’s been improving, moving up and forward.

“Girl,” says an old gravelly voice behind her, and Lucy turns just enough to acknowledge him while still keeping Crocodile in her line of sight.  “That straw hat looks just like the one Red-Hair used to wear.”

Lucy glances up at the old man.  “You know Shanks?  Yeah I’m borrowing his hat.”

One of Whitebeard’s crew comes up to corral Crocodile, and Lucy figures he’s not going to get a hit on the old man anyway now that he knows the threat is there, so she turns to face Whitebeard fully at the same time the old man turns to her.

“I suppose you’re here to save your brother,” he states.

Lucy nods sternly.  “That’s right.”

Whitebeard frowns a little.  “There aren’t many women on this battlefield.”

Lucy puts her hands on her hips.  “So?”

Something sharpens in Whitebeard’s eyes.  “I hope you understand what you’re up against.  You’ll simply be throwing your life away.”

Lucy growls at him, and takes an aggressive step toward the massive man.  “It’s not for you to decide how I live, Old Man!”

Whitebeard tilts his head, just so, almost appraisingly.  “You know…I have no daughters on my ship.  Would you like to be the first?”

“Hell no!”  Lucy responds.  Obviously not!  She has a ship and a crew, and— “I’m the one who will find the One Piece!”

Lucy hears gasps arise from—actually the whole battlefield seems to have heard her, but she doesn’t drop her gaze from Whitebeard, doesn’t back down.

That’s her brother and her crew and her dream he’s asking her to let go.

Like hell.

Then old man’s sharp gaze shifts to something bright and heavy, and his lips curve up to a smile under his beard.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, and then his voice turns chiding.  “You better not get in my way, greenhorn.”

Screw him, he sounds like Gramps.  “I’ll do whatever I damn well please, and I’m saving Ace myself!”

She drops to a stretch, keeping Gear Second engaged.  The black leather shorts she got from the Okama in Hell are a little stiff from disuse, but it doesn’t bother her, and it’s better than the fishnet stockings they wanted her to wear.  Her yellow shirt is similar—the cotton heavily starched—but it’s comfortable enough, it isn’t a leotard, and at least it isn’t covering her midriff or shoulders.  “Something else you should know—they’re moving Ace’s execution up.”

Whitebeard is still facing the plaza, where the Marines are pouring out from, but his eyes flash urgently to her face.  “You’re sure?”

Lucy nods.  “Yeah, there was some coded stuff that we couldn’t catch, but the message came through clearly on the ship we stole.”

“Hmm.”  Muses Whitebeard.  “I guess that explains why you were so anxious to get on the battleground.”

Lucy looks up, frowning.  “Huh?” Oh, the ship.  Falling from the sky.  “Oh, no, that was an accident.”

Something about the way Whitebeard’s lips twitch makes Lucy think he’s both amused and incredulous.  “…Of course it was.  I’d expect nothing less from Ace’s little sister.”

Lucy shrugs.  She’s here now, that’s what matters.  “Anyway, you want to save Ace too, so I thought you should know.”

Whitebeard’s face turns instantly serious.  “Yes, that’s important information indeed.  Thank you.”

Lucy stretches her shoulder by drawing her arm behind her head.  There’s a creeping ache in her bones and she knows with an unfortunate degree of certainty that she doesn’t have much left.  She’s gotta make this count.  “No problem.”  She grins up at Whitebeard.  “See you when I’ve saved Ace!”

Whitebeard doesn’t say anything, but she’s pretty sure she sees him smirk as she takes off.

If Impel Down was hell, Lucy wonders what she’s supposed to call Marineford.

Ice slips under her sandals as she charges, the white frost and fog and snow disorient her, would make her unsure of her heading if she hadn’t so determinedly located Ace, if her instincts weren’t honed on her brother’s vulnerable form.

All around her, lights flash with powerful attacks and abilities, reflecting off the pale ice and snow, and agitating her reflexes.  She ducks and dodges and weaves around blows that could take her head off, sever limbs, peel muscle from bone.  She sees out of the corner of her eye a Devil Fruit using pirate with the ability to melt people, and his victims’ wails of agony shake the battlefield.  One Marine seems to have the ability to control bone, and uses his victims to attack their own comrades.  They cry horrified tears before their ribs are ripped out through their chests.  Blood slicks the ice, stains the snow and her ankles and feet, and Lucy pays it no mind.

Ace, her heart beats, Ace, Ace, Ace…

She doesn’t fight if no one confronts her, and even when she has to, she doesn’t bother finishing the job.  She has one goal, one objective.  Everyone on this battlefield is strong.  She doesn’t have time to fight them all.

She can’t.

Ace, Ace, Ace…

Kizaru’s abilities cut through the battlefield in deadly swaths of light.  They’re infinitely triggerable bombs aimed at anyone who looks like a target.  His is probably the flashiest of attacks, the most disorienting, but he is by no means the only one able to wreak havoc with casual ease.

Whitebeard was right, she knows.  This place is dangerous.  Lucy has never felt so helpless, never felt so weak as she does in this place.  She’d be dead a thousand times over if Jimbei and Iva-chan and Hancock weren’t working in tandem to keep her alive. 

It doesn’t matter though.  She’s too stupid to turn back, too determined to be afraid.  When she makes it out of here with Ace she’ll get stronger, close the gap, become more powerful than anyone here, be Pirate King.

Ace, Ace, Ace…

Every time the fog and dust clears, the execution platform seems farther away.

But Ace’s tortured expression calls her, and Gramps’ solemn torment is palpable around him.  It’s a beacon.  It keeps her going even as the sky rips apart and the earth beneath her feet bleeds, even as her chest clenches warningly, dangerously, and Lucy knows Chopper would make her stop, would pull her down and succeed because she’s so weak right now she can barely see.

If Chopper were here, Lucy wouldn’t be this desperate.  She could leave it to them.

She’s so glad they’re not here.

Ace, Ace, Ace…

Forget Impel Down—this place is hell.  The prison is mere purgatory.  This place is where the devil lives, in the tempest of violent glee and bloodlust.  She feels it burn in her, deep in her mind, a feverish need to fight, scrape forward, to simply survive, but her heart beats louder than her mind can think, and she charges for her brother even as fury and bloodlust cloud her judgment.  It is not something she recognizes in herself, but she can’t help it as she sprints over headless corpses and screams echo in her ears.  This is war, and she’s discovering new things about herself with every call of agony she ignores.

Ace, Ace, Ace…

Walls rise around them, trap them, the sky turns to fire and the earth betrays them, and Lucy pushes forward, forward, always forward, because Ace needs her.  Ace never needs her.  Ace is always protecting her, and this time, this time she’ll pay it back.  She’ll lift his soul from this place, convince him once and for all that he deserves to live, even if the rest of the world seems intent on saying otherwise.  The only thing that truly scares her here is the thought of failure, but Lucy has never believed she couldn’t win, never believed the odds are too great to overcome, and she knows it’ll be alright.  She’ll win.  She has to.

Ace, Ace, Ace…

“Are you sure about this, Lucy-san?”  Jimbei’s low voice asks, even as he prepares to launch her over the side of the wall.

Lucy has never been surer of anything in her life.

“Yeah.  Do it.”

Jimbei takes a deep breath, and pulls the sea to do his bidding.

Lucy grips the mast of the ship for all she’s worth, even as the icy water sucks life from her weary body and thought from her taxed mind.  Her grip isn’t strong, but she’s secure enough that it doesn’t matter.

The rush of water swells around her, raises her high and higher, but it doesn’t fight her, doesn’t threaten to drown her, thanks to Jimbei’s influence.  Gravity wins its battle for her, and soon she’s nearing the platform, avoiding all the conflict and strife below.  Lucy lands crouched in challenge with the mast in one arm beside her, as all three admirals stand before her while water rushes down.

“LUCY!” Ace screams, horrified, and the chains clink as he struggles against his bonds.

Lucy doesn’t acknowledge him.  Can’t, really.  She’s so far from being able to expend energy on something like comfort that it’s not even funny.  She pants, trying to catch her breath, and slowly looks up at the three admirals.

“Well, you finally made it here,” Aokiji greets.

He hurt Robin.  Turned her to ice.

“Quite an entrance, daughter of Dragon,” offers the admiral dressed in red.

He’s the one who drowned all those people.  Who melted the bay.

“This kid sure is scary,” coos Kizaru.

He nearly killed Zoro.  He’s the reason we had to run in Sabaody.

“If nothing else, I praise your tenacity, little girl,” the red-shirt tells her.  His eyes are so, so cold for a man made of magma.

“But you’re not ready for this stage yet.”  Aokiji dismisses.

“There’s no way you can beat us, you know,” Kizaru adds, and he sounds almost curious.

Lucy doesn’t care.  Doesn’t give a shit what they’re saying.  In fact, she can’t even hear it.  All she can see is Ace, Ace, Ace, with tear tracks down his cheeks and blood on his wrists from the cuffs and screaming her name begging her to flee, and leave him to die.

“You…have…my brother.”

Red shirt’s glare intensifies at the ferocity in her voice.  “He’s the pirate son of Gold Roger.”

“He will be executed today.”  Kizaru adds.

There is a rage in Lucy that could never be controlled.  She wouldn’t want to tamp it down.  It is rage at these people’s belief in absolute law, that people are nothing but pirates, civilians, or Marines, that they are terminally, absolutely correct in everything they do.  It’s fury that they could stoop so low as to use her brother to make a point.  It’s hellfire raised because they think they can take her brother away from her.

Lucy jumps back and up, hurling the mast toward the Admirals.

“Give…ACE…BACK!” She orders, with every expectation that they will do as she commands.

Aokiji freezes the mast, and hurls it back toward her.

“Gomu Gomu no STAMP GATLING.”

Piece by piece the frozen mast rains down on the generals, but they’re logias, all of them, and the ice shards affect them about as much as rain.

Lucy knows this.  She never intended to fight them head on.  They’re the enemy’s three most dangerous opponents, and she knows she doesn’t have time to figure out a way to beat them.  But the melting ice creates fog, blocks their line of sight, and Lucy bursts into Gear Second.  She uses the momentum to rush behind them, over their heads, and straight for Ace.

For a moment she thinks she’s going to make it, but then a flash of light to her left alerts her to Kizaru.

“Too slow,” he coos, wearing a look of vague, childish interest, and she’s nowhere near fast enough to dodge when he kicks her in the face.

Lucy goes flying, cast down from the platform, and crashes into concrete and stone.

It hurts, and that’s how she knows she’s got little time left.

“Dammit,” she groans.

There are Marine soldiers circling her, but they look hesitant to attack as she pulls herself out of the crater Kizaru flung her into.

“Execute him!”  The general calls.

“ACE!” She screams, but he doesn’t look up, doesn’t look for her, his head is bowed and his neck exposed for the long execution blades to cleave through.  Lucy reaches a hand out, desperate, feels a hot pool in her gut that she’s felt before, that she can’t quite control.

At the very last moment two attacks sweep across the platform with deadly, unerring accuracy as the executioners are forcibly plowed away from her fearless brother.

Ace looks up, clearly shocked, and Lucy nearly cries in relief.  “Ace!”  And she looks around for her brother’s savior, she has to know—

Crocodile stands before the platform, tall and malevolent.

Lucy doesn’t know why, doesn’t care.  She just knows he saved her brother.

But now there are a thousand Marines and two platforms between her and Ace.  And she’s tired.  So, so tired.

Normally most of the Marines wouldn’t be a problem.  Normally she could run straight through them, like at Enies Lobby.

Today it’s hard.

She does it anyway, pushes through them one at a time.

Ace, Ace, Ace…

Then Aokiji comes, a thrill of cold air, and ice spears through her shoulder.

She screams and goes down, the ice freezing the wound in a way that’s unnatural.

“I owe your granddad, but…” Aokiji shakes his head, looking like he genuinely regrets having to attack her.  “I have no choice.  You have chosen your own death.”

Aokiji raises the spear, but then a man with blue and gold wings of flame kicks him and—it connects.

How?  What’s the secret?  What does she have to do—

Not the time.

“Thanks for saving me,” She tells the man when he looks down at her.

He grins, and she wonders if he’s friends with Ace.  “Don’t mention it.”

She struggles to her feet, and Lucy smiles at him when he kicks another Marine behind her in the head.  “Lucy,” she introduces, “I’m going to be Pirate King.”

The flame-man gives her an incredulous look, and then laughs, full-bellied.  “Oh, you’re definitely Ace’s sister alright.  I’m Marco, First Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates.  Your brother and I are friends.”

Lucy punches a guy that brandishes a blade at Marco’s leg.  “Cool.”

Then the giant—the one that looks like Oars, the guy Moria stuffed her shadow into a few weeks back—gives a horrific roar that shakes the earth itself, and heaves a boat full of Whitebeards over the wall and into the plaza.

“They made it,” Marco breathes.

Lucy nods.  “I’m going to save Ace.”

Marco gives her a challenging look.  “Not if I save him first.”

Lucy grins, her wounds forgotten for a moment, and she sprints forward to the platform as Whitebeard jumps into the fray.  He distracts the soldiers, and she bounds forward nearly unimpeded.

I’m coming, Ace.  Hold on.

She sprints as fast as she can, but she doesn’t dare use Gear Second.  She’s too far gone, her heart would stop, and then who would save Ace?  Her muscles ache, her vision is going black around the edges, and she’s not sweating anymore.  Her clothes are wet, her body burns and shakes and she knows she’s lost too much blood, and still her heart beats with her resolve and all she can think is Ace, Ace, Ace…

A man in a purple and white pin-stripe suit approaches her, nearly cuts her down, and even though she dodges his sword she falls face-first into the cobblestone plaza.

This man…he’d be difficult even if she was at full strength, never mind now, as she runs on the last few dregs of the energy hormone Iva-chan injected her with.

“Straw Hat Lucy,” the man calls, and oh, he singled her out specifically.  “I stake my pride as a Navy Vice-Admiral on stopping you here and now.”

“Vice-Admiral?  Same as Gramps…” which means stopping him as she is now is probably impossible.  She’ll have to dodge and try to lose him.

The man blinks out of sight, and Lucy spins up in a kick she learned from watching Sanji, blocks the Vice-Admiral’s sword as it weaves in a pattern she recognizes from watching Zoro.  She deflects him once, but he comes at her again harder, and slices her thigh open.

Lucy yelps, and pushes herself to all fours, choking on dust and half a lung.

No choice.  She has to do it, has to try.

She plants a fist on the ground, squats in a strong horse stance.

“Gear S-Second,” she grunts, but as she tries to squeeze the energy into her bloodstream, her body refuses to cooperate, burns her as she tries to contract the muscles.

Another Marine flies out of nowhere, and yells “You’re at the end of your rope, Straw Hat!”

He hits her with a finger pistol, and Lucy can’t maneuver herself to land properly.

She breathes heavily, panting.

Ace, Ace, Ace…

Lucy groans, feels muscles in her shoulders and back tear, and pushes herself upright.

Her two opponents look at her with something close to pity, but it’s too similar to disdain for her to take it seriously.

There’s a hum, one that’s too familiar, and she looks up to see Kizaru charging a beam to fire through her skull.

Have to move—!

She dodges, barely, as the wave of destruction passes behind her, but she’s so weak, so far gone, that she can’t even lift her arms to protect her face when she falls back to the ground.

She can’t—move.  She can barely breathe.

This is worse than Lucci.  At least then she knew her friends would get away.

Footsteps approach, and instincts warn of danger, remind her that someone predatory is coming.

“Hm…” says a familiar voice, and she turns her head to the side to see Kizaru.  “It’s like I was saying, you have to have more than courage, Straw Hat Lucy.  Without enough strength you can’t save anyone, no matter how hard you try.”

Her eyes blurred closed at some point, and she forces them open.  Her brother, where is her brother?

He’s still alive, kneeling at the execution stand like a sacrifice to some horrific god.  He’s watching over the carnage and she’s so close she can see his expression, see how anguished this battle makes him.

“A-Ace…” she groans.  She has to get to him.  She promised she’d save him.  She promised, she promised.

Her vision is blurry.  She tries to get up, tries to push herself into fighting more, further, but her body won’t respond, and her eyes are tunneling black as she blurs into unconsciousness.

But not quite.

“Just disappear, little girl.  No one wants to see a woman die.”

And then she’s lifted by her ribs as Kizaru pummels her side with a kick running at the speed of light, and she tries to move but can’t as she’s flung limply through the air and right into—

A hand.

A massive, thick hand that wraps all the way around her body.

No—no she can’t go back.  Has to—has to—

“A-Ace…” she croaks, and she can’t see, can barely breathe, she’s not certain she’s actually stopped falling, but—

Ace, Ace, Ace...

“How’s that for washed up, you relic,” a cold, childish voice croons.  “You let a little girl lead the charge before you.”

She has to stay conscious.  Has to fight!

The blackness around her eyes beats back a little, just as the hand holding her flips her right-side up.

She almost blacks out again as the blood rushes from her head, but she doesn’t in the end and she realizes it’s the—old man?  Yeah, Whitebeard caught her when Kizaru kicked her ribcage in half.

He’s not paying much attention to her, and Lucy realizes why when she picks two familiar voices out of the fray.

“Iva-chan?” she croaks.  “Jimbei?”

Ace, Ace, Ace…!

“Hey, let me go, Old Man,” she croaks.  She squirms in his grip but he’s much, much stronger than her at the moment.  Probably always.  Whatever.

Whitebeard ignores her, but there’s respect in his voice when the rumbles “She’s done more than enough.  Treat her wounds.”  And he tosses her like a ragdoll back to a crowd of people who must be on his crew.

Treat her wounds?  No!  “I—Lemme go, there’s no time for that!”  She struggles, and the six men holding her drop her like she’s a wild animal.  She rolls to her belly, she needs to get up, needs to fight, needs to— “I have to save Ace, have to!”  A hand grabs her shoulder and it burns because that’s where Aokiji stabbed her but she doesn’t care, grabs the offender’s shirt and uses him to stand.  “Don’t get in my way!”  She pants, and shoves the man aside, whiling around to find an opening in the cluster of men around her and failing. “Ace is…Ace is…Ace is my only brother in the world!”  And she’s aware she’s frantic, aware that these men don’t need to hear her reasons for saving her brother, but they’re trying to hold her back so they obviously don’t understand, can’t understand.  “My only brother!” She repeats, and the words give her energy she didn’t have before, the panic clears her mind

She can’t go down, can’t stop, has to move forward, has to save Ace, so she pushes the man to the side and charges forward.  “I’ll—I’ll definitely save him!”  She declares again, and for a few steps she’s fine, but then—

Dizziness, a swell of nausea, her ears ring, her legs give out, and she collapses a mere ten feet from the knot of men charged with treating her.

Ace, Ace, Ace…

“Ace,” she groans.  “Have to save…”

The world blanks out in a fizzle of darkness and pain.

The earth trembles, and Lucy wakes.

Iva-chan is watching the battle around them, twitching pensively every time the fighting gets too close.  But she’s here, and that’s all Lucy needs.

“I-Iva-chan…”

Iva-chan’s attention is drawn to Lucy immediately.  “Mugiwara-girl!  Why are you awake?”

“Need more…energy.  Thing.”

The expression on Iva-chan’s big face goes from scolding to horrified.  “What?  No!  I won’t give you another injection!  You’ll die!”

Lucy pushes for a last, latent reserve of energy.  She has it.  She knows she does.

Ace, Ace, Ace…

Her arm struggles up, and she catches Iva-chan’s ankle in her grip, forces her to listen.  “Please.”

Iva-chan’s face is stern.  “You’ll be throwing your own life away!”

“That’s fine.  I’ll do whatever I can.”  Lucy coughs, and a gob of blood escapes her mouth.  Lucy swallows down the gag reflex.  “Just let me fight, Iva-chan!”

Iva-chan looks unconvinced, “You are a child!”

And Lucy—Lucy can’t fucking do this right now.

“Iva-chan I swear, if I don’t fight now and Ace dies, I WILL KILL MYSELF!  DO IT NOW!”

“If you die on my watch, I’ll never be able to face Dragon again!”  Iva-chan objects.  Lucy just looks at her, resolute.  Iva-chan sighs, looking unsure.  “You’re too much like your father for your own damn good,” she mutters.  “Fine.”

The energy that courses through her as Iva-chan stabs her broken ribs hurts, but it feels sweeter than anything ever has before.

She screams, loud enough for God to hear, and the entire battlefield turns to look as she rises.

“LUCY!” Ace screams from the scaffold, and he strains hard against the cuffs.  He’s lost enough blood now that the wooden scaffold is stained beneath him.

It enrages her.

Lucy sprints forward, heedless of anyone in her path, even of the people flanking her, protecting her, until two Pacifistas rise from the crowd, their mouths glowing with Kizaru’s power, and she can’t stop them, can’t even see Ace, she has to dodge, she has to—

A woman with long black hair and a purple dress cuts in front of her, arms spread wide.

“H-Hancock!”

“Go!”

She does, not even taking the time to thank her friend as she charges, because then Lucy notices the executioners, sees them approaching her brother, her dearest brother, the only brother she has in this world and—

Ace, ACE, ACE…!

The swords above her brother’s neck rise, and she’s too far away, too far—

“Stop it,” she whispers, and that molten heat in her belly rises, “Stop it!”  the heat twists, steels her spine and— “STOP!”

The heat inside her simmers, binds to her bones and the men about to kill her brother collapse.

Them—and two thirds of the Marines in the plaza are down, passed out cold, and frothing at the mouth.

Good.

“I’m coming, Ace!” she screams.

Her brother just looks at her in shock and dawning horror.

Lucy barely registers it, and she doesn’t care.  Her brother often thinks silly things.

“MEN,” Booms Whitebeard, “BACK UP STRAW HAT.”

It’s only then Lucy realizes she’s the closest to the platform.

And Whitebeard’s helping—!

Fifty men converge on her, all of them pirates, and they beat back the twenty or so officers there with ease, clearing her path to Ace and the scaffold.

Ace, I’m coming, do you see?

“Mugiwara-girl, do you see?  The world’s best pirate is trusting you!”

Lucy doesn’t care about that.  He should have trusted her from the beginning.  She’s Ace’s sister.

Mihawk comes for her again, but he’s blocked by Daz Bones and Crocodile, so Lucy keeps running.

Ace, Ace, Ace…!

Up ahead she sees—

Inazuma?

The orange and white hair, the fur coat, the glass of wine—it’s him, it has to be him.

It turns out she’s right because she sprints forward on aching legs and she swears she only blinks but suddenly there’s a ramp of stone ascending to Ace.

Yes!

“Keep running, Mugiwara-girl!  Don’t stop!”

As if she needs to be told!

“I’M HERE ACE, I’M COMING!”  She screams, and her brother looks stunned, awed, like he might cry and if he does she’ll punch him for being a crybaby but also probably cry too because when Ace cries it’s usually okay to do the same.

The Marines around her have taken notice of her progress, seem to see that she’s close, so tantalizingly close to winning, to getting her brother back from the assholes that took him, and they start to concentrate fire on her.

Reflexively, Lucy ducks and dodges but she soon realizes she doesn’t need to because the Whitebeard Pirates have her covered.

“JUST RUN, STRAW HAT!” A few of them scream, so Lucy does, she runs straight to the ramp and flies in the face of every Marine officer there.

She’s gonna get her brother back whether they like it or not.

But then she’s ascending, and she’s a third of the way up when the ramp shakes, the stone unstable and cracked, as someone bursts through the bottom to stand in her path.

She knows who it is before the dust clears.

“Gramps please!”  She begs, “Move aside!”

But Gramps just looks at her, a mountain of a man, a legend, and his gaze is heavy.  “I won’t move, Lucy!  I’m a Marine Vice Admiral!”

Lucy has never understood Gramps’ devotion to the Marines.  She’s never understood why he wanted to climb the ranks over the course of his life, never really understood what his accomplishments offer him personally, morally, spiritually, whatever.

She’s never understood it less than she does now.

This is Ace they’re talking about.  Ace, who’s family.  Ace, who she grew up with, who taught her how to throw a punch, who saved her from alligators and tigers and bears, who let her follow him wherever he went, who she shared a cup of sake with and became a sister to, who took care of her when she got cuts and bruises and told her bedtime stories.

What could possibly be more important than Ace?

She’s going to save him, regardless of Gramps’ decision.

“Do something Mugiwara-girl!”  Iva-chan yells.

And Lucy will, when it’s clear that Gramps won’t move.

But something is different about him today, something in his eyes looks less resolute than normal.

He doesn’t want to do this, she knows.  Gramps loves them.  Gramps always, always wants the best for them.  He must hate himself for this.

Lucy doesn’t hate him.  She just doesn’t understand.

Now she’s forty meters away, thirty, and Gramps declares “I’ve been fighting pirates since before you were born!”  He takes a deep breath and bellows, “If you want to save Ace, you’ll have to kill me, Straw Hat Lucy!  That’s the path you two have chosen!”

It’s like a slap in the face, calling her that.  Gramps has never called her anything but Lucy.

It’s possible, she realizes, that Gramps hates more than just himself.

The thought sickens her, and she falters a step that has nothing to do with the way the bridge shakes under her feet.

“I can’t kill you Gramps, please move!”

But Gramps stands unmoved.  “That simply means Ace will die!” he declares.

And it’s that thought, that Gramps would really, truly let Ace die, that compels her to act.

“NO!” She screams, and she drops painfully into Gear Second as Gramps lines up for a punch.

Lucy slips under his guard as his fist hitches, ever so slightly, and hits him square in the jaw.

Gramps flies off the bridge, down to the bottom of the scaffold.  Lucy knows that was too easy, knows that shouldn’t have happened, but she doesn’t have time to dwell on the hurt and pain this causes or on what it means for her family when all is said and done because the bridge is collapsing and Ace is right there.

Two more steps.  One, and—

“Lucy?”  Ace breathes incredulously, and she grins at him, because finally, finally she’s found her brother.

But there’s no time to hesitate, no time to hug and reminisce, and so she dives for the handcuffs, fishing out the key, inserting it and—

“DON’T THINK I’LL LET YOU GET AWAY!”  A voice booms, and Lucy just barely unlocks the handcuffs when a fist comes down to destroy the scaffold and gold and light and—

FLOOOOOM.

Ace!

A ring of fire protects them both from the explosion the Fleet Admiral caused, from the attempted brute-force execution, and Ace’s hand is wrapped tightly around her upper arm.

“You’ve always been this way, Lucy!”  He chides, but he sounds joyous, too, and proud.  Like he might cry.

Lucy laughs, giggles, and if they weren’t still in the middle of a warzone she might actually sob.

“You never listen to a word I say,” he continues, but he doesn’t sound mad at all, even as he drags her through his protective inferno to rip a hole in cooler air.  “And you always, always, always overdo it!”

God she missed him.

She smiles broadly, because finally, finally, all her efforts are paying off, something finally went right, and she rescued Ace, just like she said she would.  “ACE!”

And okay, maybe she does cry a little bit.  She is in the middle of a warzone.

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“Running away the moment you grabbed Ace,” growls a voice.  “What a bunch of cowards.  Whitebeard even more so.  No wonder he’s such a failure.”

The words barely register with Lucy, she’s too tired, too relieved, too focused to take in much stimulus that isn’t life-threatening danger.  But she is aware of Ace, and he hears the words.

She notices when he stops.

“Ace!” She calls.  There’s no time, they have to keep going!  The Marines still want him dead.

“…failure?” Ace whispers lowly.  Lucy stops, a few yards away from her brother.  He turns to the scary red Admiral who spoke to them, his face dark.  “Take that back.”

The rest of the Whitebeards are equally panicked at Ace’s sudden standstill, and start calling for him to run.  Ace pays them no mind, his attention riveted on the Admiral.

The Admiral seems only happy to oblige him.

“He couldn’t become Pirate King when your blood-father was alive, didn’t even achieve it after his death.”  The Admiral’s gaze is obscured by his hat, his bulk compact in his frame as he crosses his arms underneath his coat.  “What else would you call him, if not a failure?”

Ace growls, low in his chest, and Lucy is sure that he doesn’t even hear it.

The Admiral continues, heedless.  “His only accomplishment is adopting a bunch of scummy kids who call him Pops and wandering the sea with them.  That’s all he’ll ever amount to.  He wasn’t even good at that—his own son betrayed him.  It only took a few minutes to plant doubt, you know.”

“Shut up!”

The man in a kimono rushed forward, his fan extending toward Ace.  “C’mon, Ace, he’s trying to goad you!  It’s a trap!”

Ace’s fists ignite, his Whitebeard tattoo standing out in sharp relief against his pale skin.  “A dog like you could never understand,” Ace snarls, “Pops gave us a place to belong to!  Pops is the greatest man alive!”

The Admiral lowers himself into a horse stance, his fists melting red.  “People who walk on the right path have no need for alternatives.  Their families are whole and wholesome.”  His eyes become visible as he tilts his head up and there’s madness there.  “THE WORLD HAS NO PLACE FOR PIRATES.  WHITEBEARD IS A FAILURE BECAUSE HE DOESN’T RECOGNIZE THIS.”

“DON’T INSULT OUR SAVIOUR!”  Ace screams and there’s something twisted in his expression that he’s never shown to Lucy.  “THIS IS WHITEBEARD’S ERA!”

Then both men shoot forward, and Lucy has to put a hand up in front of her face to protect herself from the heat as fire and magma clash.

“Stop it, Ace!” Shouts another Whitebeard, “We need to go!”

But then Ace screams and—

Ace got burned?  Ace did?

“The Fire Fist is careless,” the Admiral sneers.  “Magma is hotter than fire.”

No.  No, this is bad.  They need to go.

“A-Ace,” Lucy chokes, and her vision is swimming again.  She feels the drain just like last time, but it’s coming so much faster now.  She takes a step forward, wobbles, and lands on one knee, breathing hard.

“Lucy-san, you’re at your limit,” warns Jimbei, a large, warm presence behind her.

But Lucy’s eye catches on a white slip of paper fluttering across the broken concrete of Marineford.

Ace’s Vivre Card, she thinks.  It must have fallen out of her pocket when she fell.  She reaches for it, has to lean forward on her hands and knees and—

“HEY WAIT!”

Lucy’s head snaps up at Ace’s voice, at the panic he never shares, and she looks up just in time to see—

A fist of fire and burning rock, Ace mantled by gold-red flame, the red Admiral, and Ace—Ace—Ace—!

There’s a fist through her brother’s chest.

Ace coughs once.  Smoke and blood trickle out.

He doesn’t fall.

“It would appear you have life in you yet,” the Admiral sneers, low and unimpressed.  His red fist pushes slowly forward, and Ace lets out a horrible cry.  “I can fix that.”

Her bother’s face is wretched with pain, and Lucy finally, finally gets her bearings.  “S-STOP!”  She demands, just like she demanded her brother back earlier, and she won then, she won—

The Admiral just drips more magma down the front of Ace’s chest, and he shakes.

A large blue shape hurtles past her, and yanks the man away from them.  It’s Jimbei, but she can’t take her eyes off of Ace long enough to notice.

Without the Admiral’s fist holding him up, Ace hovers for a moment, crouched before her in a protective, fatal stance, and slowly tips forward into her arms.

Ace is bigger than her, always has been.  He feels small when she grabs him and he fumbles onto her shoulder.  When she lifts her hand to his back, when her fingers come away soaked black with blood—Ace’s blood—he’s never felt frailer.

There’s—There’s a hole in his—

“I’m sorry…Lucy.”  He rasps, and Lucy thinks I should be screaming right now, I want to scream, but it’s like she’s underwater, she can’t feel anything, and the ringing in her ears is getting louder.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t let you save me properly.  Forgive me.”

His cheek rests on her shoulder and no, no, no.

“We gotta find a doctor, Ace!” She wraps her arms around his waist and pushes as well as she can, but she’s so weak right now, and Ace is so heavy.  She can’t—what good is she if she can’t even—

“HELP!” She screams, “HELP, HE NEEDS A DOCTOR!”

A few people start rushing over to them, but Ace just wraps his arms around her shoulders more securely, clings to her that little bit tighter.  “It’s no use…know when my time has come.”

“No, Ace, let the doctor—”

“Shh,” he soothes.  “You gotta…listen now.  Who else would I tell?”

She turns just a little, trying to look him in the eye, but the action just pushes Ace more heavily against her.  “Ace, you’re not dying, you promised—”

“If it weren’t for Sabo…and having to look after my naïve little sister…I never would have wanted to live.”

Lucy stills, hardly dares to breathe.

“Nobody else wanted me to live, so it was only natural.”

“I do,” she rasps, begs.  “I want you to live.”

“If you ever run across her…say goodbye to Dadan for me.  It’s weird…but I think I miss her…now that I’m about to go…”

“You told me you wouldn’t—”

“I just have one regret,” he interrupts.  Ace is a fire man so why does he feel so cold.  “I won’t see your dream come to pass…but I’m sure…you’ll pull it off for me.”  Ace’s arms flex in a way that might have been a hug.  A desperate, tiny one.  “You’re my little sister after all.”

Lucy’s tries to make a fist, tries to grip Ace’s shoulder, but she can’t do anything, she’s frozen, she can’t—

“I have…no regrets about the way I lived my life.”

No, that can’t be true, because he’s dying now, dying for Lucy, and—

Ace always tries to make her feel better.

“You’re lying,” she accuses, and she isn’t quite sure she’s breathing.

“No…it’s true.  I guess I didn’t really want anything from life except…the answer to just one question.  Was it good that I was born?”  Ace hiccups, really soft and quiet.  “Lucy listen…and tell the others what I’m about to say.  I’ve been good for nothing my whole life.  I was born from a demon’s blood.  But you guys…” his voice breaks, and something wet drops onto Lucy’s shoulder.  “But you guys still loved me.  Thank you.”

Ace goes lax, utter deadweight against her, and he slumps off her shoulder to the broken concrete below, head rocking against her knee.

“A-Ace?”  She calls, because Ace—Ace can’t be dead.  He’s Ace.  He’s so much stronger than her, and if Lucy’s alive, then Ace must be too.  And Ace promised, no matter what, he wouldn’t—

Lucy looks at Ace’s back, black with blood and the wound so wide it destroyed the Whitebeard tattoo that was her brother’s pride.  He’s lying on his chest, but his palms are up and—and—and—

He’s smiling.

Ace.

Lucy screams until the world fades to white, then black, then nothing at all.

Chapter Text

Lucy rises slowly from the black abyss her consciousness lingers in.  It’s a place of nothingness, of oblivion, and Lucy is no more aware that she is arising from it than she is of her own existence.

But slowly, painfully, certain sensations affect her, bring her attention to bear, and there’s—pain, unlike anything she’s ever felt before—and a memory, a thought too horrible to contemplate, the smell of antiseptic, harsher than anything Chopper has ever used, and—

The battle.

Ace.

Lucy screams, red filters over her eyes as hot and dark as the magma that burned her brother, but this time no oblivion comes to claim her.

Zoro’s not entirely sure how long it’s been since Sabaody, but he knows it’s longer than it should be.

He was pretty content to bicker with Perona until he found his way out of here…right up until the moment she let slip that he slept for nearly two weeks.  He woke up a few days earlier, which means he was supposed to meet up with the crew ages ago, and they’re probably worried.

(He doesn’t even know if they’re alive at all.)

But more than that, there’s this—feeling, in his gut, down deep where only a few things ever affect him.  Something is wrong.  Desperately, desperately wrong.  Every instinct in his body is screaming at him to get to Lucy, and somehow he knows, just knows, that she needs him.

The gorillas are proving to be a problem though.

If he wasn’t still so beat up, these guys probably wouldn’t be an issue.  But Thriller Bark hurt him in a way that lingers.  It’s unlike anything Zoro has ever experienced before.  It’s not simple trauma, it’s a pervasive weakness that aches through every cell.  It’s sickening, and Zoro is tired of it.

But his feelings on the matter don’t change the reality.

He loses a duel with one of the gorillas, and his back impacts a rock behind him.  He falls facedown to the ground and exhales sharply, just short of a groan.

The apes stay back in a menacing semi-circle while he tries to find the energy to push himself up.  They’re not playing fair, exactly—they’d fight him one-on-one if they wanted to play fair—more like they’re hesitating to see if he’d get back up or not.

“Are you dead?” Perona whines from somewhere above him.

People have been asking him that way too frequently lately.

“Shut up, I’m concentrating,” He growls back.  Carefully, painfully, he pushes himself up to a sitting position, shamefully using the wall behind him as a crutch.

Two weeks of healing, down the drain.  He reopened the wounds from Thriller Bark.  Again.

Lucy needs him.  He doesn’t have time to be injured. 

Shusui glints to his right, and if he moves quickly enough, he can take his blade up again.  Kitetsu is on his left, but far away, behind the line of apes.  The cursed blade fairly glows in his senses, howling rage as it grates against his consciousness.  Wado is a faint trace of disdain and ice too far away to pinpoint.

He’s in trouble.  Real trouble.  He’s so injured he can barely move, let alone fight.  He’s got no backup either, because his friends are who-knows-where, and Perona is useless. 

Think.  What can he do to get out of this?  He needs to find a boat, and someone willing to take him to Sabaody.  C’mon.  Think.  What does he need to do—

Something sharp grates his senses, and Zoro is immediately on edge.  The apes sense it too, and in terror they scatter in every direction.

This energy…is familiar.  Last time he felt it his senses were too dumb to see the breadth, the ferocity, the power.  But now…

“Hawk Eye…” he whispers, and right on cue a figure emerges from the mist, a crucifix strapped to his back.

Zoro has learned to be wary of this man.  The scar on his chest reminds him every day that he has a gulf to bridge between them, and much as it burns, he knows he isn’t there yet.

Still, below the wariness, below the knowledge and self-awareness, there’s a thrill in Zoro’s veins that compels him, that makes some small, stupid part of him think I could challenge him.

But of course he can’t, and even if he wasn’t deeply, horrifically injured, he would not be ready to defeat this man.  As it is, his appearance means nothing to Zoro but a threat, another obstacle between him and his nakama.

Everything inside him is chilled.  Lucy.  Everybody else.  He has to get to them.  They need him.

Hawk eye has probably known exactly who he is for a while now—at least since Zoro was able to sense him, but Zoro can’t quite stop himself from lunging toward Shusui when Mihawk gets close, desperate for a weapon in his hand.

It doesn’t go well.  His ribs flash in pain and he can’t keep the agony out of his face as his muscles burn.

“You should not do that, Roronoa Zoro,” Hawk eye intones lowly, his voice smooth and unbothered as ever.  Those yellow eyes are like stone, and Zoro grits his teeth as he glares up at them.  “You are injured beyond your limit.”  His perpetual frown deepens.  “Do you think you can beat me when you can’t even defeat the baboons?”

Zoro ignores the dig—Mihawk’s not wrong, after all, and Zoro has never been one to lie to himself about reality.  There’s an infinitely more important question here.  “Why the hell are you here?”  Mihawk didn’t just decide he wanted to track him down and kill him for shits and giggles, did he?

Hawk Eye’s face is blank, but he tilts his chin up slightly.  “I’ve been living in that castle for a while.  Why are you here?”  If walls looked curious, Zoro thought maybe Hawk Eye would look like that.

Zoro leans back, because it seems like Mihawk didn’t come here to kill him, and his body hates him.  “I got thrown here by Kuma.”  Zoro lets his eyes glint in accusation, and a thrill of fear for his nakama courses through him at the next thought.  “He’s a Warlord too.  What, did the rest of you decide you didn’t like us taking one of you down every other month?”

And that’s a terrifying thought, because while his nakama are all strong, he and Lucy are the only ones capable of battling a Warlord to submission, and even then it depends on which one it is.  Zoro’s pretty sure they’ve been lucky so far, getting the weaker ones thrown in their paths.

Mihawk’s eyes grow faintly disdainful. “The Shichibukai would not dispatch themselves for such a task as eliminating a few brats.”  But then his face relaxes in a manner that indicates comprehension.  “That explains, however, why Straw Hat came to Marineford with other people.”

Everything inside Zoro freezes, and he physically lunges forward a little toward any scrap of information he can get.  “You’ve seen Lucy!?  She’s alive!?  How was she, is she alright!?”

“She’s probably still alive,” Mihawk tells him callously.  “But I assume she’s badly traumatized.”

There’s a throb in Zoro’s chest that has nothing to do with his injuries.  “What happened?” he demands quietly.

“The Fire Fist, Portgas D. Ace, is dead.”

Zoro registers the words, and feels his body contract painfully in response, but it feels almost removed, like a thing that happens apart from him rather than to him as he struggles for coherence.

Ace…no, no it can’t be.  Not him.  He was a powerful pirate, nearly invincible.  And he was a good man, looking out for his sister like he did.  If Ace died Lucy would…Lucy would—

“What…did you say?”

Mihawk’s face is blank when he repeats the information, but there’s a faint trace of sympathy for the fallen there.  “He died in his sister’s arms.”  A beat.  “She screamed.”

Zoro feels the blood drain from him, feels his heart contract painfully at what Lucy must have gone through, all alone and without anyone there to watch her back, or help, or comfort her.  He thinks, horribly, of Ace’s blood drying and caked on Lucy’s skin as she cradles her brother in death.  He thinks of her horror and pain, and wants to throw up.

No wonder he’s been feeling so out of sorts.  She needs him.

But first he has to know the extent of the damage.

He starts to struggle up, levering himself against the wall.  He can’t stand, but he’ll at least hear this with as much dignity as possible.  Mihawk might skimp on the details otherwise.  “Tell me everything,” he demands.

Mihawk frowns, but complies, and Zoro listens to a recounting of events he should have been a part of and wasn’t.

He drowns in it.

Red fades slowly from Lucy’s vision, and boils down to a single view.

Her…her hands are covered in blood.  Bandages.  She staggers a little as pain blooms across her chest.

Lucy looks up, and the sunlight feels cold.  There’s jungle all around her, beautiful and alien and vaguely familiar. 

She’s not in Marineford.

 “Where…am I?”  She pants, breathing hard.  And more importantly, where’s Ace?

He’s—his corpse—no one took it, did they?  Like with Moira?

The thought makes her shake her head, horrified.  Green blurs across her vision, and she takes great gulps of air as the ringing in her ears starts to fade. The air is clean, no ash or smoke, and the ground is lush grass, not unforgiving stone.

Lucy tilts her chin up, closing her eyes as the sun bears down on her.

“Maybe it was all a dream,” she muses, breathless, helplessly hoping.

Ace, face down and smiling.  Blood on the pavement, on her, on the stone around them.  Acrid smoke, cloying at her, lifting the horrible stench of burned flesh to her nostrils.  A hole in the Whitebeard tattoo the size of a large man’s fists.

She grips her head with her bloody hands, and shakes.

I’m sorry, Lucy.

She falls back, screaming and helpless as she kicks at nothing but air and reality itself.

This can’t—no, this can’t be happening.  Can’t be real.

Another memory—Ace’s tears on her shoulder, heavy deadweight in her arms.

There’s blood on her hands.

“Go away, go away!”

A cliff bursts apart under her fists but it’s not enough, has never been enough because Ace—she couldn’t—

Ace, hovering over her wreathed in fire as magma drips down his chest.

“GO AWAY! GO AWAY!”

Lucy hurls a boulder at a mountain and watches stone collapse, breathing hard and feeling her muscles burn in anguish.

He’s gone.

Lucy falls to her knees, leans on her elbows, and breathes.

Why?  Why does the world hate her brother so much?

Slowly, deliberately, a pair of heavy sandaled feet approach her, and Lucy lifts her head just enough to see Jimbei looking down at her with typical sternness.

She glares at him, daring him to say something.

He does.

“The war is over!”  He declares.  “Ace-san is—”

“Don’t!” She interrupts.  She can’t—she can’t hear that sentence.  “Don’t say it at all!”

“He’s—!”

“I already pinched myself hard enough to rip my skin!”  on her sternum too, where the pain was greatest.  “If it were a dream, I’d have woken by now!”  Her voice cracks, and tears run heavy and thick down her face.  “But it’s not a dream, is it?  Ace is really dead, isn’t he?”

Lucy bites her lip to keep from wailing her agony, but she can do nothing about the hitches in her breath, the sobs.

“Yes, he is dead!”  and hearing it on another’s lips, hearing the truth echoed back to her, grinds whatever is left of her hope to dust.

So she cries.  Brokenly, wetly, for the best brother in the world, the person who always looked after her, protected her, cared for her when no one else did.  Who was kind and a misfit and a bit mean-spirited when he was put-out.  Who wouldn’t listen to her at all when she teased him about his hat in Alabasta, and who got a tattoo with Sabo’s S crossed out.

Ace is gone, and it seems the world should have burned along with his heart.

Jimbei tries to interrupt, tries to distract her, and he starts, “Lucy-san—”

“Pirate King?” She hiccups, incredulous and lightheaded.  “I couldn’t—I’m no Pirate King!  I’m weak!” She sobs, furious at herself for wanting something so great when she is so pathetic.  She blows another boulder apart in her hysteria.  “Still!  I’m still so—I couldn’t save anyone, not a single person!”

Not Ace.  Not anyone else who died on that battlefield.

“Damn!” She wails.  Her bloody knuckles numb as she pounds the earth below her.  “Damn, damn, damn, DAMN, DAMN!”

She was nothing but a child.  When it came to saving her brother, her only brother left, she couldn’t do it.

All these years.  All that time gone, and all that time spent training and growing stronger, and Lucy might have been seven again for all the good it did Ace.

“Dammit…”  Lucy trails off, helpless and useless.

“Lucy-san…”

She forgot Jimbei was there.

“Go away!”  She demands, not looking up at all. “Leave me alone!”

“I can’t!” Jimbe growls, low in his gravelly voice.  “I cannot watch you hurt yourself anymore!”

She cannot—cannot—handle someone telling her what to do right now.  “It’s my own body!  It’s none of your business!”

“Then you can’t blame Ace for doing what he did!  His death was not your business!”

How dare he—

“Shut up, you bastard!  I’m gonna beat you if you say another word!”

There’s a tiny voice in Lucy’s head that says such a statement is laughable.  That Lucy is weak, and she would never win against Jimbei.

It’s a new voice, or an old one.  She hasn’t heard it in a decade.

It’s powerful.

“Do it if it makes you happy!”  Jimbei returns, unconcerned.  “I’m injured too, but I’m not going to get beaten by you in that condition.”

He’s right.

Lucy stands, growling, and charges, firing off a punch.

Jimbei grabs her arm easily, and flips her onto her back so hard her lungs seize and a rib breaks.  Blood bursts out of her mouth.

Lucy doesn’t have the strength to open her eyes, and her anger frustrates beneath her skin, marinates in her weakness.

Jimbei seems to think she’s given up, and settles beside her, his bulky frame shaking the earth as he rests.

His mistake.  Lucy’s not one to give up, not even like this.

She clamps down on his arm, hard.

“WHY YOU LITTLE—”

Jimbei slams her against a rock wall, gripping her by the neck.  She’s too injured to use her rubber abilities or she’d be out of this easy.

“That hurt you little brat!”  Jimbei growls at her.  Lucy just wriggles, trying to get out of his grip.  It’s not quite tight enough to choke her.  “Can’t you see things clearly now?  You believed you could overcome anything, and you’ve never doubted your strength!  But all those formidable enemies at Impel Down and Marineford took away your confidence!  And your brother was your guide on the sea!  I know that you have lost, and lost dearly.”  This last sentence is voiced with sympathy, and a gentleness he had not previously displayed.  “The toughest enemies in the world blocked your way, time after time.”

Jimbei’s words are more than Lucy wants to acknowledge right now.  Ace is—dead, he’s gone, she understands, but the other things…who is she without them?  Without infallibility and a brother she has to chase and a dream to pursue?

“You’ll never find your way like this,” Jimbei intones, echoing her thoughts, “because you’ve lost yourself in pain and guilt.  I know it’s painful, Lucy-san,” he counters gently, “but you have to defeat those feelings!  You can’t think only of the people you’ve lost.  You can’t get them back.  You must think instead of what you still have.”

Lucy stills, the storm inside her settling.

What does she…still…have?

Her hands drop to her sides, and Lucy sees her reflection in Jimbei’s glassy eyes.

Jimbei sees the fight drain from her, sees the shock weave stillness into her frame.  He releases her slowly, and she slides down the rockface to the earth.

What does she have?

Lucy looks down, to hands still covered in blood.  Her blood.  Not Ace’s.

What does she have?

How could she forget?

A swordsman and a first mate.  One she loves in a way she never really expected, never could have predicted.  One who is crabby and irritable and loyal and kind, who is gruff but gentle, too, and who makes all his attack names sushi puns, and who never, ever gives up, and who always, always believed in her, even when it was just the two of them.

A navigator and a thief.  One who looks after her in a way that reminds Lucy of Ace.  Who is brave and strong and skilled, clever and a survivor, who is surely out there right now wondering what’s taking the rest of them so long.

A liar and a sniper.  A friend who wants to be brave, which is silly since he already is.  Who tries so hard every day, to make himself into someone he wants to be.  A link to Shanks’ crew, and a silly, goofy, wonderful friend.

A cook.  One that bickers with Zoro and flirts with women but never in a way that makes them feel upset.  Who cares for people, feeds them any chance he gets, who respects her and never lets people question Lucy’s captaincy because she’s a girl.

A doctor.  The best doctor.  A reindeer with a heart of gold and who only wanted to fit in, and carry on his father’s legacy.  Who’s maybe lost and waiting for them right now, alone.

An archaeologist.  One that just learned she wants to live, who likes to read books and drink coffee on the deck, and who’s teaching Lucy how to read.  One who never believed Lucy would come after her, and who was loyal to them anyway.  Who suffered, who was hunted, and who is still kind.

A cyborg.  A funny, restless, endlessly creative cyborg.  One that took the entire crew under his wing, adopting them like the people he led back on Water 7.  One who took a chance on Lucy and her crew, and who built the ship they sail on, to carry them all to their dreams.

A musician.  One that waited decades alone to try and carry a song to his nakama.  Who sings Binks’ Sake whenever he feels it gets too quiet on deck, and who is still happy to be alive after years of loss.

The doubt inside her clears, and warmth breaks through the fog of her misery.

Zoro.

Nami.

Usopp.

Sanji.

Chopper.

Robin.

Franky.

Brook.

Her crew.

Her nakama.

She counts them on her fingers.  Eight.  She has eight reasons to live.

They’re nakama.  With them she need never be alone again.

The tears brim up faster than she expected, and this time they don’t stem from pain or misery or grief, but from—from—

Love.  That painful kind that makes a person question whether it’s joy or sorrow, but which Lucy knows is really just hope, the tightening of those invisible bonds which lash her to them. 

She cries—loudly, intensely, so lightheaded she can barely breathe.

“I still have—” she chokes on the words as the sobs close her throat. “I still have my nakama!”

Jimbei is gentler now, and his face is kind.  “I see.”  His voice sounds warm and approving.

She sniffs.  Wipes her tears.  “I have to meet them on the ship.”  She hiccups.  “I’m late, but I’m sure they’re waiting for me.”  Jimbei sits before her, quiet and graceful for his massive size.  “I want to see them,” she tells her friend.  Because if just the thought of them is enough to push away her doubt and guilt, then seeing them…holding them… “I want to see them again!”

Jimbei gives her a rare, fond smile.  “Well of course you do.”

Chapter Text

Zoro wakes, and he finds himself staring at a now-familiar ceiling.  He passed out yesterday after Mihawk told him what Lucy has been through while he was lying here, in this exact spot, useless.

Perona dragged him back to the castle and dumped him in the bed.  She brought food and water, but he’s been informed he is not allowed to leave until he can walk unassisted.

If he hadn’t been so busy being nearly comatose, he would have protested stridently.

But this morning, he actually feels a bit better.  More aware than he has been for a while now.

Lucy is, for all he knows, alone and injured.  Or succumbed to her injuries.  Mihawk said Trafalgar Law took her from the battlefield, that he probably managed to save her life, but he can’t help the twist of anxiety in his gut born from the uncertainty.

It doesn’t help that the papers have been wildly speculating about a whirlwind romance between them.  It’s typical of newspapers, especially since a lot of them were clearly hoping for more drama to add to the epic of the war.  The suggestions rub Zoro the wrong way, but that doesn’t really matter.  He’s just grateful the guy saved her.

He wishes he could have saved her.  He wishes he could have saved Ace.

He wishes he was strong enough to stand behind her when she needed him.

With a grunt, he levers himself up.  His chest and stomach throb in agony, angrily, and every ligament in his body tightens in protest.

Zoro breathes through the pain, waits for his blood pressure to even out before trying anything else.

It’s been nearly two months since Thriller Bark.  He’s spent most of that time asleep or blacked out in a coma.

He’s been useless, utterly useless, since that first fight with Kuma.  The others could have gotten away at Sabaody if he hadn’t dragged them down.

He needs to get to Lucy.  Apologize.

Talk to her about that kiss.

The pain doesn’t go away, just…recedes a little.  Enough that he can stand.

Okay then.

Zoro swings his legs over the side of the bed.  Grits his teeth against the new burn, and the protesting of his wasted muscle.  He’s atrophied a fair amount, with this ridiculous level of bedrest.  He’s pretty sure even Chopper would be horrified enough to let him get back to his exercise routines.

Gingerly, he slides to his feet, using the bedpost as a crutch.

He’s panting with the effort.

That’s not a good sign.

Fuck it, he needs to get to Lucy.

He straightens his spine, forcing himself upright.  His abs twinge in protest, and his back creaks, but he does it.  Zoro lets out a harsh breath of pain he didn’t realize he was holding.

Zoro takes one careful step, then two.  He needs to move.  Needs to do more than rest.  He needs to go.

Slowly, his body relaxes into movement.  It still protests, still aches and groans and screams, but it’s nothing he can’t ignore.  He collects his swords from where they lean against the door and slides them into his hamarki.  All three of them ring painfully in his mind, and have been since Hawk Eyes told him about Lucy.

He doesn’t know why, but they’ve been acting weirdly since Thriller Bark, especially Kitetsu.  Quieter.  Until last week, that is.

Maybe they think he’s useless too.

“They wouldn’t be wrong,” He mutters as he hefts the door open.  His swords give him no response.

The castle is cavernous, and Zoro would know.  He spent three whole days just wandering around trying to find his swords when he first woke up.  It’s got a bunch of fancy things too, like thick carpets and suits of antique armor.  Zoro has seen some of this in pictures before, but never in person.  The kingdom he grew up in didn’t have stuff like this.  Too bullshitty.  He can see someone like Mihawk liking it though.

Eventually he finds what he was looking for—Perona’s screeching voice, and Mihawk’s bored, indifferent tones.

They’re behind a heavy oak door.

Zoro exhales in slight, shameful dismay, and then heaves himself against it with a grunt.

It opens.  Barely.

He’d normally be able to do this without a thought.

Inside, both occupants of the dining room look up at him.

“What are you doing up?” Perona screeches, dismayed.  “You’re not going to push yourself again, right?  You can’t beat those baboons, they’re way too strong for you—”

“Shut up,” he growls, startling her into silence.  He hasn’t growled at her seriously in…well ever.  “It’s none of your business.”

Perona, over her shock, jerks in offense.  “How dare you say that to me!  I’m the one who carried you here!”

But Zoro ignores her, doesn’t really care what she has to say.  He walks slowly, unsteadily toward his rival, the man he unknowingly swore to kill twelve years ago, and who left a mark across his chest the first time he tried.

“Hawk Eye,” he starts, voice rough.  He doesn’t quite have the energy to stand upright, but he refuses to bow his head.  Not to this man.

His vision dims for a moment, and he has to use all three of his swords to keep his balance as he trips.

“See?” Perona demands, outraged.  “You can’t even walk!”

“Why are you in such a hurry?  You’re wounded.” Asks Hawk Eye.  He seems…indifferent, which at least means Zoro has a better chance of getting out of here than if he was like Perona.  Or Chopper.  Or Sanji.

This isn’t helping.

Zoro tries to breathe through the pain, return oxygen to his blood, but it only kind of works.  “You told me what happened to Lucy,” he starts, shoulders shaking with effort, and maybe emotion as well.  He looks up, angry at the insinuation that he would do anything but follow her.  “How can I stay still?”  He shakes his head, collecting his thoughts, and the room spins.  “I didn’t even know a war like that was underway.”  He swallows, and he can’t quite keep the concern from his voice now.  “You said Trafalgar took her, but there’s no way to know if she’s okay or not.”  He grips his katana so hard they rattle in their sheaths.  “You must know where she is, at least.  Tell me!”

Mihawk looks away, dismissive.  “Trafalgar is a skilled surgeon.  He likely managed to save her life.  Beyond that, I have told you all I know.”

Zoro wants to throttle him, wants to demand answers, but there’s nothing for it now.  He cannot force Mihawk to tell him what he does not know.  Zoro closes his eyes, resigned.

“Sorry to bother you, then,” he begrudgingly accepts.  He turns and shuffles toward the door, still limping on his katana.

“This is insane!”  Perona protests, “Even if you make it to the sea without running into the baboons, you still have to cross the ocean!”

Zoro keeps walking.  It’s of no consequence.  He’ll swim, or lash together some tree trunks, or walk on fucking water if he has to.  He’s going to go find her.  Right now.

“If you want a small boat, there is one on the west side of this castle,” Mihawk offers.

It’s kind of him.  Zoro didn’t expect that.

Zoro stops, the only show of respect he’s ever given Mihawk outside a duel.  “Thank you for everything.”

He manages to make it out the door and listen to it shut before leaning bodily against a wall, trying to get his heartrate down.

No good.  He’s no good like this.

“I want to go see them now,” Lucy whines.  She’s hanging onto Jimbei’s back now, because she found herself mostly exhausted and unable to move after her emotions settled a little.

Jimbei, exasperated once more, sighs.  “You can’t go anywhere with that wound.”

Lucy frowns down at herself.  Her chest and ribcage hurt so completely that it’s hard to tell what the wound looks like.  She wonders if she still has her breasts, even.  She honestly can’t tell, because it’s not like they were very big in the first place.

She wonders if Zoro likes it when women have scars.  She’s fairly certain it won’t matter for them if he doesn’t, but…

“But I want to see them as soon as possible,” she insists.  “I don’t know where they went when we got separated.  I need to make sure they’re okay.”

The absolute certainty that she possessed earlier is gone now.  She survived Kuma but for the others…

Zoro was so hurt when they were separated.

“I have to be there like I promised,” she adds, just to emphasize how badly she needs to get to Sabaody.

They pass through curtains printed with Hancock’s Jolly Roger.  “Lucy…” Jimbei starts exasperatedly.  Then he stops as they look out over an empty bay.  “The submarine’s gone,” he grunts in surprise.

“Oh, it’s Lucy-chan,” a familiar voice calls.  Lucy turns as quickly as she can, neck twinging, and spots Rayleigh sitting on a rock and wringing his shirt out.

“Huh?  Rayleigh-ossan?!”

The old man chuckles and stands, a gentle smile on his face and silver hair flowing around his shoulders.  “I’m glad to see you so soon!”  He greets.

“Why are you here?” Lucy asks, curious.  “I was about to follow the Vivre Card to Sabaody.”  A thought occurs to her.  “Did you see my friends?”

News.  Any news on them would be—

“No, I don’t think they’ll be there.” Rayleigh says casually.  “But I gave my Vivre Card to Shakky, so I could go wherever I wanted.”

A stone drops in Lucy’s stomach.  They can’t be—he doesn’t mean—

“Dark King Rayleigh,” Jimbei states, shocked.  “I didn’t know you knew Lucy.”

“We met not long ago,” Rayleigh agrees.  Lucy, not wanting to spend this conversation on Jimbei’s back, gathers her strength and leaps down.  It hurts, but she doesn’t show it.  “You must be the former Warlord,” Rayleigh muses.

“He’s Jimbei,” Lucy corrects.  Her friend’s past doesn’t matter.  “He saved my life.”

In more ways than one.  She is very aware of that.

Actually, Jimbei is behaving kind of weird.  She frowns at him and asks, “What’s wrong?”

Her friend doesn’t tear his eyes away from Rayleigh.  “I just didn’t expect to see a living legend here, that’s all.”

Lucy looks back at Rayleigh, frowning.  She knows he was the Pirate King’s first mate, but she never heard of him before Sabaody.

Well whatever.  She brushes the thought aside.

Rayleigh bends down, and something very familiar is in his hands.  Lucy’s eyes widen.

“Here,” he offers.  “Isn’t this important to you?”

Her hat.  Shanks’ Hat.  She thought she lost it along with Ace, back at—

Rayleigh tosses her the hat, and she catches it easily.  She grins at him as familiar straw slides under her fingers.  “It is.  Thank you.”

It’s the same as always.  Unchanged and untouched since it was last on her head.

“It doesn’t feel right without it,” she muses, and mashes the hat to her hair.

She feels more like herself.  Steadier.

Jimbei looks around, apparently stymied.  “Have you seen a group of pirates around here?”

Rayleigh shrugs.  “If you’re talking about Trafalgar Law, he just left.  He said you should rest in bed two more weeks, Lucy.”  Rayleigh shrugs one of the Heart Pirate jackets on, and Lucy frowns.  “He saved your life, didn’t he?”

Lucy nods.  “Jimbei told me about it.”

She wishes she could thank him.  And also maybe ask him what her chest looks like.

Rayleigh puts his hands on his hips, a casual, powerful stance.  “But first, Lucy, I bet you’re wondering how I found you?”

Lucy tips her head to the side.  “Not really.”

Both Jimbei and Rayleigh give a small chuckle.

“It was Kuma,” Rayleigh informs her.

Lucy’s heart nearly stops.  “W-what?”

“When I was fighting Kizaru in Sabaody, Kuma arrived, and claimed he wished to help me save you.  I didn’t have much choice but to trust him, and he told me where he sent you a bit later.  He wouldn’t tell me where the others went, but said they were safe.”

Something inside Lucy quakes, and slides apart in vicious, terrible hope.  “Then…they’re alive?  All of them?”

Rayleigh’s eyes grow warm and fond.  “As far as I know.  Kuma sent them to safe places.”

A deep, sharp relief drops into her.  “Thank goodness,” she whispers.  “I’m glad.”

She doesn’t cry though.  She’s cried enough today.

“You said you wanted to go to Sabaody, didn’t you?”  Rayleigh asks, dark eyes speculative behind the glasses.

Lucy can hear the question there.  “I want to see my friends.”

Rayleigh’s eyes grow sharp, but not unkind.  It’s like looking at a mirror, impassive and blank.  “Is that really what you want?”

Lucy has learned too much to ignore a question like that, and waits for Rayleigh to explain.

He sees he has her attention, and complies.  “Do you really think you can stand up to those tremendous powers you fought as you are now?”

Lucy thinks of every blow she took in the battle, every fight she had to avoid because she couldn’t win.

You have to have more than courage, Straw Hat Lucy.  Without enough strength you can’t save anyone, no matter how hard you try.

“But…” She wants—needs to see them.  Make sure they’re okay, and have them nearby while she heals from this.

“Do you want to be reunited with your friends just to endure the same fate?” Rayleigh demands, and the words cut through her like razor wire.  Rayleigh must see this because he adds.  “I have a suggestion.  It’s up to you but…” A pause.  “I will train you.  For two years.”

Lucy goes numb.

“What?”

Two years.  Two years of training under one of the strongest men to ever sail.  Two years of learning from him, growing, becoming stronger.

Two years.  Two years of not being with her friends, of not seeing them, or even knowing how they are.

She can’t—

“I think that’s what you and your friends need the most right now,” Rayleigh finishes, not unkindly.

“Lucy-chan needs rest,” Jimbei interrupts, suddenly not quite so in awe of Rayleigh, “and she needs her crew.  She needs to heal her body and mind.”

Rayleigh studies Lucy, like he’s trying to figure out what’s holding her back.

Oh God, two years.  An hour ago she thought she wanted to die, and now she’s considering this stupid proposition to not see the people who pulled her back from the brink for another two years.  They might be safe now, but what if they need her?  They’re strong, they’re all so strong, but what if something happens and Lucy’s not there again—

What if it’s like Sabaody, and the War?  What if Lucy isn’t strong enough to protect them when the next person to challenge her comes along?

He’s right.

It kills her, but he’s right.

Right now, of her crew, she’s the weak one.  She’s the one who needs them, and if Kuma was that careful sending them to different islands, they can’t possibly be unsafe.  She can’t protect anyone as she is right now.

Arlong asked her once, what gave her the right to be their captain.  Her answer was, of course, that she could beat him, beat anyone who threatened her nakama.

If she departs with them as she is now, she can’t say that any longer.

Her jaw trembles, and she forces it to steady.

“But my friends will…”

Rayleigh leans forward, his hands under his chin.  “Yeah, they’ll try to meet with you in Sabaody.  The news about you has spread all over the world already.  Lots of salacious stories.  They’re probably worried for you.”

Lucy’s fists clench.  “Then…I have to see them.  I promised, so I gotta go.”

She looks at Rayleigh, resolute, but some part of her knows this is not the right decision.  She can’t protect them as she is, and while they are stronger together...

Lucy’s seen what’s out there now.  She can picture the way Whitebeard made the world tremble, split islands in his wake, and she can see the terrible golden gleam of the Fleet Admiral as she freed Ace upon the execution stand.  She was an ant fighting among giants.  She lives not by her own will, but by luck.  She cannot win as she is right now.  She can’t protect them.  She certainly can’t be Pirate King.

But she also can’t just back out on her promise.  She has to make sure her nakama know she’s safe.  If they arrive in Sabaody and she never shows up, they’ll think she’s dead.

Rayleigh seems to understand, and there’s a certain kind of approval in his eyes.  “Then, allow me to offer a second suggestion which, while unpalatable, will allow you to reassure your friends and also to train with me.”

There’s a gleam in Rayleigh’s eyes which would be dangerous if he wasn’t so thoroughly on her side.

Lucy looks at him, and just knows.

“If I do as you tell me, will I be able to protect them?  For good, this time?”

“Lucy-san!”  Jimbei hisses, dismayed.

Rayleigh’s glasses flash as he tilts his chin on his knuckles.  “You’ll have to put in some effort, but I think it’s worth trying.”

No guarantees then.

But…it’s better than doing nothing, isn’t it?  Better than just waiting for someone to show up who can tear them away from her again.

But then there’s the whole issue of Zoro, and how she feels about him, and how two years is a long time for those feelings to go unrequited.  They didn’t part on a bad note, exactly, just an unresolved one, halfway between something familiar and a grand adventure.  She’s sure, of course, that she loves him.  Lucy’s sure he cares for her, too.  But she doesn’t know how he cares, and that—

That hurts, a bit.  Two years without an answer…

Zoro was injured, too.  Badly.  Whatever happened on Thriller Bark laid him low, and then Kuma sent him away, so there’s no guarantee that he received proper medical care.

She has to trust that he’s okay.  Just like she always has before.  Lucy has to get stronger, but Zoro’s always been a rock.  He’s okay.  He has to be.

And how will she get on without seeing them, her nakama?  Jimbei snapped her out of her grief earlier, but those feelings are not gone, will probably never be gone.  Ace’s death is going to sit heavy on her heart for—well probably the rest of her life.  It weighs on her still, a shadow behind her that she can feel but can’t touch lest she fall to pieces.  She was counting on being able to see her friends before releasing them again.

She never wants another reason to feel like this.  Like she did in Sabaody, like she did when Bon Clay sacrificed himself at Impel Down.  She wants—needs to protect the people she cares about, especially the ones who call her their captain.  That’s her job.

It’s the right thing to do.  For them, if nothing else.

“Alright,” Lucy agrees.  It feels like tearing her heart out.  “What did you have in mind?”

Chapter Text

It takes him most of the day, but eventually he manages to get back to the cross Mihawk found him under last week.  He found the boat pretty easily, but dragging it behind him is hard.  He still has the Vivre Card, somehow, and he’s been pulling the boat in the same direction as the Card.

Rayleigh is his best option right now.  If nothing else, he should be able to meet the rest of the crew there, and then they’ll hunt Lucy down together.  Like usual.

(There’s nothing usual about this.)

But then…then there’s the fact that this is Lucy they’re talking about, and Lucy…

Lucy never breaks her promises.  She’ll be there, and Zoro wants to meet her.  Wants to touch her and hold her and have her tell him what happened, if she wants, or sit in silent company if she doesn’t.  He wants to see her healthy and recovering, remind her that, useless as he currently is, he’s beside her.  Promise her he’ll get stronger.  That he’ll never lose again.  Not this time.

Zoro huffs out a grunt as the sensitive tissue in his ribs screech in pain.  He doesn’t like repeating promises.  He doesn’t like breaking them in the first place.

A bush rustles on his left.  A vine swings out of tempo up ahead.

“There you are,” Zoro grunts.  “I knew you weren’t going to let me go so easily.”

Zoro drops the boat, and forces his spine straight.  Years of training and discipline refuse to let him meet an enemy with poor form.

It’s agony though, and his grip spasms around Shusui’s hilt.

Twenty baboons, all of them armored and fierce, circle him.  Zoro widens his stance, and prepares to draw.

One steps forward, armed with three…katana…?

The baboon charges and Zoro dodges but—

“They’re imitating me,” he grunts in disbelief.  That was a perfectly executed Tatsu Maki.  They even got the air currents right.

Zoro can at least counter this move.  He knows all its weaknesses.

He counters, and lands heavily on the packed earth below.

It exhausts him, and he’s forced to his knees, clutching his ribs gingerly.

There’s a booming crash behind him, and his eyes widen in horror as he realizes—

The boat.

They got the freaking boat.

Around him the baboons cheer.  Like—Like—

Like they’ve won something.

“Idiots!” Zoro grunts.  Lucy’s face flashes in his mind’s eye, torn in anguish.  “Don’t mess with me today!”

It’s hours later when he is forced to retreat a little, gather himself.  The baboons back off too, licking their wounds.

Literally.

“Where did you even learn that?” Zoro grouses.

The baboons, as usual, don’t answer him.

They don’t crow in victory either which is…

Odd.  Very, very odd.  And they’re all looking up behind him, at—

“Hawk Eye…” Zoro acknowledges, frustrated that he didn’t sense him sooner.  The man is still wearing his frilly white shirt, and sipping from a glass of red wine.

“It’s been a while since you left the castle,” Mihawk muses.  “You don’t seem to have gotten very far.” A pause.  “The boat I gave you seems to be broken.”

Jeez, this guy was born annoying, wasn’t he?

“Shut up!” He growls, “I’ll use them like planks and swim hanging onto them.”

“It’s nice that you care so much for your captain,” Mihawk intones, sounding very much like he doesn’t really care if it’s nice or not.  “but those enemies are strong.  They’re called Humandrills.  Baboons that develop by imitating humans.  Peace-loving, if they grow up near kind humans.  Warmongers, if the opposite.  Those you see before you are a product of the war that ravaged this land seven years ago.  Nothing was left but them.  I moved here sometime after.  It still smelled of blood and smoke.” 

Zoro wonders what Mihawk did with the bodies.  He can’t quite picture the implacable man chopping down enough trees to cremate them.

He does, however, think Mihawk and Robin would get along well.  They talk the same way.  Clearly overthink everything too much.

“Humandrills learn from us,” Mihawk continues, and takes a sip of wine.  “They adapt what they see us do, without any true context.  Humans beat beasts because of our intelligence, our ability to make tools to cover inefficiencies.”  The red wine swirls around the glass.  “When the beasts take up those same tools, they make great opponents for an arrogant young man.”

Okay, that’s a step too far.

“Talking about me?” Zoro challenges, annoyed.

“There’s no one else here,” Mihawk retorts snidely.  “It’s almost sunset.  Come to my castle.  They won’t bother you there.”

Fuck, no.

“Don’t tell me what to do!”  Zoro snaps back.  “I’ve got to make it to the sea.”

Lucy needs him.  The knot of uncertainty in his gut, born from not knowing how she is or whether she’s safe, is eating him alive.  He needs to find her, and the others as well.

“I see.” Mihawk concedes after a moment.  “Do whatever you want.”

“I don’t care what they are,” Zoro growls petulantly, panting.  A new cut opens above his eye, and blood is swallowed by his tear ducts.  “I have no time to waste.”

His right leg is fractured.  He may have sprained his wrist, but he can’t be sure.  His entire torso is a mass of pain so tangled he has no idea where one injury begins and another ends.  He thinks he may have reopened his Thriller Bark injuries again.

For Lucy.  For himself.  For every unsaid thing between him, and for every memory they’ve yet to make.

Zoro lunges and fails, over and over and over again.

“Oi!  How long are you going to stay asleep?” A voice above him whines.

Painfully, Zoro pries his eyes apart.  It takes him a second to orient himself, and his vision is still blurry.

Perona hovers above him, unimpressed.  “I won’t take care of you if you keep injuring yourself,” she threatens.

“Mind your own business,” he snarls, turning his head away.  He must have passed out.  Again.

Fuck this, he has no time for it.

He’s just going to lay here until he gets bored.

Right.

“I have today’s paper,” Perona adds.  “There’s something in here that I think you’ll be interested in.”

Zoro looks up, wary.  Perona says stuff like this sometimes, in really obvious attempts to get people to do things for her.

“There’s an update on your captain,” Perona clarifies, tossing the paper in her hand like it doesn’t hold the answers to every question that led him out here in the first place.

Zoro sits up, numb to the agony of his body.  “What did you say?!”

But his body is tired of being ignored, and his ribs throb in angry protest.

Perona backs up a step, startled.

Zoro’s brain interprets that as being a refusal to answer, so he comes as close to begging as he ever does.

“What did you say?” he rasps, pained.  “Please.”

Perona blinks, startled.  She glances at the newspaper, then back at him.  A wicked smile spreads across her face.  “I could use this to get you into the Kumashi costume…”

Zoro lunges for the newspaper.

Perona screeches in terror.  “Okay, okay, sheesh!  Lay down, or you’ll pop your stitches.  I’ll hold it up.”

Zoro does not tell her his stitches popped before the baboons jumped him.  He just lays back against the rocks, and tries to curb his impatience.

The headline reads STRAW HAT LUCY, ALIVE AND BACK AT MARINEFORD.  And next to it…

Next to it is a picture.  Lucy, standing over a chasm Whitebeard himself cut into the earth.  She’s bandaged head to toe, her face is still puffy from bruising, and her clothes—a loose red shirt, and denim shorts—are familiar, if tattered.  Her hat is pressed to her chest, with the one arm that isn’t fully bandaged.  She’s lost weight and muscle tone, like she too has been on bedrest too long.

She looks mournful.  She looks solemn.

Zoro’s never seen her like that.

But she’s alive.  If nothing else, she’s alive and by the looks of things, on the mend.

The relief is so potent it hurts.

And here’s the thing—if she’s alive, and Zoro’s alive, that probably means the rest of the crew is too.  Even they aren’t that unlucky.

Quickly, Zoro skims the article.  She arrived back in Marineford exactly twenty days after she left.  She, Rayleigh, and an ex-warlord that allied himself with her during the War commandeered a Marine ship, and circled the island once before entering the bay.  The ship was destroyed, but they made it ashore, where Lucy rang some special bell exactly sixteen times and then threw flowers in the grave.  Then they left on a whale shark.

It's weird.  Lucy doesn’t do stuff like this.  She’s not into symbolism or any such bullshit.  She just does things.  And it’s not like her to go to such lengths to pay respects to the dead, either.

Zoro glances at the picture again.  There has to be a reason she did this.

Rayleigh’s a clever bastard.  And if he’s with her…

Carefully, he lets his eyes trace her form.  No pins or anything that would indicate something important.  No hand symbols.

“Are you done yet?  My arms are tired.”

The only thing about her appearance that’s off are the letters and numbers on her arm.  “3D” is crossed out.  Beneath it is 2Y.

3D.  Three…dumbbells?  No, that’s stupid.  Three dogs?  That would make no sense.  Three—

Three days.

She crossed out three days.

They were supposed to meet in Sabaody in three days.

But that was almost a month ago now, and there’s no way she was in Sabaody this whole time.

2Y.  3D was three days, so 2Y is—

No.  No way.  She wouldn’t do that.  Not unless—

She would.

Mihawk has offered enough details that Zoro has an idea of what the war was like.  He knows what grief and loss are, he knows what it’s like to be confronted, suddenly, with the incredible gap between oneself and the top.  It’s happened to him twice now.  Mihawk gave him a scar the first time.  He still hasn’t recovered from the second.

What could possibly possess her to do something like this?  Doesn’t she want—

Zoro cuts himself off, knowing it’s stupid.

Of course she wants.  He knows that.  But Lucy is nothing if not determined when the crew is at stake and someone—Zoro doesn’t know Jimbei but he could see Rayleigh doing it—convinced her to look at the bigger picture.

Zoro may have to punch Rayleigh next time he sees him.

Of course he can’t right now, because Rayleigh is in another tier of strength altogether.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

Mihawk showed him the top, back in East Blue.  But Zoro had so far still to walk that he hadn’t known how far down he was.  Kuma reminded him.  Kuma showed everyone how weak they still are.

This is a promise from Lucy.  A challenge too.

In two years, I’ll be stronger, she’s saying.  We’ll continue on to new seas ahead, and no one will ever stop us again.

Zoro closes his eyes, and his body brines in pain.

Zoro wants too.

But okay.  Okay.

It’s not like he could ever refuse her anyway.

Kuma showed him other things as well.  What he’d give up for Lucy, for one thing.  How much she is a part of him.  That there were few, if any, sacrifices he wouldn’t make for her.

And now, it seems, he’s proving that he’d even let her go.

When Jimbei’s whale shark pulls up to Hancock’s ship, Lucy just barely makes it on board before the magnitude of what she’s just done hits her, and weakness slides swift and merciless into her bones.

“Lucy-chan!”  Hancock fusses from somewhere on her left.  Lucy sways as she tries to look at her.

“Steady, Lucy-san,” Jimbei rumbles behind her.  He grabs her good shoulder firmly, but he’s gentle too.  He’s large and reassuring.

Lucy really likes Jimbei.

“Now that we have that taken care of, you should go rest, Lucy-chan,” Rayleigh adds behind her.  “Trafalgar would probably disapprove of all your recent activity.”

Lucy nods, and it nearly sends her to her knees.

Being in the ocean so long often has side effects like this.  Especially if she’s injured.  She would have passed out a long time ago if Jimbei hadn’t been protecting her.

“There’s a bed you can use, Lucy-chan.  It’s in the cabin next to mine,” Hancock offers, her tone gentle and a little more serious than before.

Lucy’s chest tightens, and her throat closes and her eyes prick hot with tears because—

“That will work,” Rayleigh agrees, and his hand is heavy as it rests on her shoulder, encouraging her forward.

Lucy walks slowly, and her vision is swimming, but she manages to move under her own power.  Jimbei ultimately has to carry her up the stairs though, and refuses to set her down until they arrive at the cot Hancock set out for her.  He’s careful as he lays her down, and the mattress is small, but it’s comfortable enough.

“You three, bring food,” Hancock orders, all authority.  A few of the Amazons scurry off to comply, and the rest hover anxiously outside the door.  The Snake Empress turns to Lucy then, and pulls up a chair by Lucy’s bed.

“Lucy-chan, how are you feeling?” Hancock coos, concerned.  Hancock may fuss over her more than anyone else Lucy knows, which is saying something since both Nami and Sanji are—

She can’t quite keep her eyes from watering, but she holds back the tears.

“Lucy-chan?” Hancock asks, shocked.  Her eyebrows furrow, face pinched in surprise.

Lucy made her decision, and it’s too late—much too late—to change her mind now.  Tomorrow they’ll see the papers and know.

“Do you think they’ll get it?” She asks Rayleigh.  He sits across from Hancock, on Lucy’s other side.  He looks at her like he knows exactly what’s getting her right now, and how much this hurts.

“Well they should,” Rayleigh responds, not reassuring at all.  Then he shrugs.  “Something tells me they’ll understand.  The swordsman looks a bit dull though.”

The mention of Zoro makes her insides feel hollow, and her throat closes dangerously.

“Rayleigh!” Hancock hisses, protective.

Oh yeah.  Hancock knows how she feels about Zoro.

Lucy covers her eyes with her elbow, and grimaces against the gash her mouth wishes to be, contorted in misery.  She doesn’t want to cry.  She’s done enough of that for a lifetime.

And, unlike most other times in her life, Lucy finds suddenly that she doesn’t wish to be around people.  Not even these people, who have proven to be true and loyal friends.  The only people she wants right now are her nakama and she just—two years—

“Leave us,” Rayleigh orders quietly, and Lucy realizes he’s speaking to Hancock and Jimbei.

“You do not order me around on my ship, Rayleigh,” Hancock responds, scathing.

“I have sworn to watch over Lucy-san,” Jimbei agrees.

Rayleigh sighs, and Lucy tries to swallow but can’t without breaking completely.

“I must have a word with Lucy.  Alone.”  When neither of them move he adds meaningfully, “I am her teacher.”

This seems to get through to Jimbei at least.  “…alright.  Come, Boa-san.  Let’s give them some privacy.”

Hancock hesitates.

“It’s fine, Hancock,” Lucy mutters quietly.  Her voice shakes a bit.

There’s another hesitation, but finally Lucy hears her stand.  “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

That nearly makes Lucy cry too.

She has good friends.

Eventually, Hancock’s smooth gait and Jimbei’s lumbering steps make it to the door, and Lucy holds her breath until they’re gone.

Rayleigh isn’t the type to fuss.  She prefers that right now.

“Do you regret your choice?” Rayleigh asks lowly.

Lucy shakes her head, and sniffs, trying to clear the wetness from her voice.  “No.”

It was the right choice.  It’s just—

“I have lived with Shakky long enough to know that nothing irritates a woman more than being coddled,” Rayleigh adds.  “And I think she’s learned from me that feeling things is not a sign of weakness.”

Rayleigh has a low voice.  It’s soothing.

“I will not go easy on you these next two years,” Rayleigh promises.  “If you work hard, we will make this sacrifice worth it.”

Biting her lip, Lucy nods.  “I know.  I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.”

“I see.”  A pause.  “I am your teacher, Lucy.  I will not treat you differently if you cry.  Roger did, the day the crew was disbanded.”

“It’s not that,” Lucy hiccups, and the movement makes her chest ache. “I just—I miss them.  And—” Inhale.  “I—I never told him I love him.”

Lucy exhales sharply, her breath shuddering, and she can’t quite stop the tears now so she sobs instead, elbow still covering her eyes.

Rayleigh, in a show of patience and gentleness Lucy wouldn’t have expected of him, just says nothing more, and hums Binks’ Sake until her cheeks dry and her breathing calms.

As Zoro sees it, he has three options.

Option one:  He gets off this island as soon as possible, and finds another place to train for the next two years while somehow staying under Marine radar.  After everything, it’s best if the navy thinks they’re disbanded.

Option two:  He stays on this island, and just avoids Mihawk.  The guy is probably gone a lot anyway, so it’s not a big deal.  But it does seem…degrading.  Zoro doesn’t like freeloading, and he doesn’t like the idea of having Mihawk’s potentially hostile presence so nearby all the time. 

Zoro doesn’t like option two.

Option three:  He asks Mihawk to train him.

Even thinking it makes his mouth taste bitter.

The thing is, Zoro needs to get stronger.  That’s why he’s not rushing out to find Lucy right now, or hunting her down.  Because she’s right, and she asked him to stay away and train, so he is. 

There’s no better way to get stronger than to ask the strongest to teach you.  It’s just logic.

But it is a sacrifice, one he never thought he’d make.

If he asks Mihawk, and Hawk Eyes says yes, then his dream will be forever tainted by the fact that he didn’t get there on his own.  His name will reach heaven as the greatest, sure, but he’ll be the student that brought his master low, a bloodthirsty animal.

That’s not—has never been—how he wants his name to reach Kuina. 

Zoro never cared if he was on the side of the angels or not, or even about his reputation, but he does care about this.  The strength is most important, sure, but the how matters too.

It’s…a blow.  To his pride, sure, but something precious inside him as well.

He told Lucy that he’d never do anything he’d regret.  He’s not sure he’ll be able to say that after this.

He’d never even consider it if it wasn’t for Lucy.

Lucy, who asked for two years to get stronger, challenging her friends to do the same.  Lucy, who looked so solemn at Marineford, who believed in him even when he was tied to a crucifix, who has never, ever doubted him, and who he—

Zoro closes his eyes.  He thinks of all those nights on their ships’ prows, observing the stars as they roam over the sky.  He thinks of the euphoria of victory, the relief after Enies Lobby, and how the whole world bowed that day to a slip of a girl and her friends.

He thinks of each and every one of his nakama—except maybe Sanji—and pictures Lucy’s biggest smile.

Zoro shoves the door open, and walks into the dining room.

Both Perona and Mihawk are in there—Hawk Eyes perched in his red and gold chair like no one’s told him it’s not a throne, and Perona floating above the table at the other end.  Zoro stills his jaw, and walks halfway across the room.  He faces Mihawk and, in the most respectful manner Sensei taught him, he bows, his forehead pressed against the cold stone floor.

“Train me as a swordsman!”  Zoro demands.

There’s a moment’s surprise, and then Mihawk’s soft voice cuts through.  “I’m disappointed in you, Roronoa.  Are you asking your enemy for instruction?  Shame on you.”

It’s dishonorable, to be sure.  And Zoro knows that, just like Mihawk does.  If there’s one thing shared between them, it’s a high value placed on personal honor.

“Get out of here,” Mihawk dismisses.  “I have no use for a boring man.”

Zoro keeps his head bowed low, refusing to give up.  He’s committed to this, has been since he thought of it.  He’s going to walk out of here Mihawk’s student or the swordsman will have to throw him out.

“I was clearly overestimating you,” Mihawk adds, disappointment edging the older man’s voice.  The words cut a little deeper than expected.  Zoro doesn’t move, refuses to.  Mihawk notices as glass and silverware clink on the table.  “What are you doing?  That’s just disgraceful.”

Mihawk is fond of insults that actually matter to Zoro, oddly enough.

“I want to get stronger!” Zoro responds, his teeth grinding, the admission of weakness difficult.  It’s not like he wants to do this.  It’s not like he has a choice.  Mihawk is a means to an end.  To some extent, Zoro’s strength is too.  He has to get stronger.  Strong enough to stand by Lucy’s side.  Protect everyone and everything they care about.  That’s how he’ll fulfill his dream.  By making Lucy Pirate King.

“You were beaten by the baboons,” Mihawk retorts disgustedly.  “And you couldn’t get back to sea, so you came back here.  I have nothing to teach to someone like that.”

That, at least, he has an answer to.

Come back without defeating the monkeys first?  Not bloody likely.

“I defeated them,” Zoro informs quietly, blood dripping over the bandages on his chest.  A glass clinks against porcelain.  “You’re the only head left to take here, but I’m not so stupid to think I’m good enough to beat you.”

“I don’t understand,” Mihawk counters.  Zoro gets the feeling he doesn’t say that much.  “You still see me as an enemy, so why are you bowing to me, asking for my guidance?”

Because my captain asked me to get stronger, and there is no one stronger than you.

Zoro raises his head now, knowing this should be said directly, and not through muffled speech.  “Because I want to beat you.”

The room is silent for a moment and then Mihawk’s frown cracks upwards into a smile and he laughs.

Zoro’s face goes slack with shock, and a little offense.  He was serious.

“You want me to raise the swordsman who wants to kill me?”  Mihawk chuckles again, and it’s so bizarre Zoro kind of just stares.  “You’re weird.  And what you’re asking is nonsense.”  Mihawk raises his glass to his lips, and spares Zoro a glance.  “Even so, what you’re doing is still embarrassing.  I suppose that means you found something more important than your own ambition after all.”

Lucy’s face flashes in his mind—an image from when they were flying up the water spout to Skypiea.  Zoro remembers this man telling him to find a purpose for his strength, all those months ago in East Blue.

Yeah, he supposes he might have done as suggested.  It wasn’t really intentional though.  Lucy just sort of…is Lucy.

“It’s a good thing.  It means your blades won’t be empty anymore.”  Mihawk looks at Perona, jerking his head.  “Oi, ghost girl.  Treat him,” orders Hawk Eye.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” whines Perona.

“The training will begin once you have recovered,” Hawk Eye adds, speaking directly to Zoro.

Yes!

Zoro’s grinning so hard his face might crack in half.

He doesn’t say thank you.  Doesn’t say anything at all.  He just stands, turns, and walks painfully from the room as Perona tails him.

As much as it sucks…the prospect of getting stronger is appealing on its own merit, regardless of anything else.  And this way…this way he’ll be able to protect his friends properly.  Prove himself so Lucy doesn’t have to worry about him again.  Usopp and Brook will never again have to sacrifice themselves on his behalf.  Not after this.

And really, what’s two years?  It’s not like his feelings toward his friends will change by then.  And he suspects the ones he has regarding Lucy are—

Well.  He suspects those’re here to stay.

“What’s with that smile on your face?” Perona demands angrily.  She’s hovering in front of him, as usual.  It’s her favorite way to get in someone’s face.

“None of your business,” Zoro growls.

“So crabby,” Perona whines, mock-hurt.  Zoro ignores her.  She’s irritating. 

“Go away,” he grouses.  Happy as he is, and much as he did ask for this, he still feels very…complicated things about this whole arrangement.  He wants Perona to leave him alone. 

“Do this, do that, all you two do is order me around!  I’ve had enough, you hear?  Don’t order me to do stuff anymore!”

“Hm.”

“I’m serious, you dickwads need to take care of your own shit!”

Zoro slams the…well, his bedroom door in her face.

Perona screeches outside for a moment before remembering she can go through walls.

He looks around the room.  It’s bigger than any living quarters he’s ever stayed in.  Possibly combined.  He hasn’t lived in the same place for any length of time since leaving home at fifteen.

Two years in this room seems…more daunting than he wants to admit.

But it’s fine.  Lucy asked him—them—for this time.  They’ll resume their journey then, and they’ll be ready.  More so than anyone who came before them.

He really wants to see her.

“Where’s that paper?” he asks Perona who…oh, she’s been yelling at him.  Whatever.

She stops mid-sentence, and then exhales, defeated.  “You’re exhausting.  Go sit on the bed while I fix your bandages.  You can read it there.”

Zoro obeys because he feels a bit…drained.  Invigorated too.  He’s in a weird mood.

Perona tosses him the paper, and he immediately opens it to the full page spread covering Lucy’s actions.  The picture is black-and-white, but he thinks he can see lines in her face that weren’t there before, even slack with respect like it is.  Her hair is as wild as ever.  The marines in the background look bewildered and scared.

“Lift your arms,” Perona orders.  Zoro obeys distractedly.

He takes a closer look at the article this time, curious.  There’s a bunch of speculation about what all of this means, if it’s a signal to one specific person or the world at large.  The article considers at the end whether or not she’s trying to get a message to Trafalgar, as he wasn’t seen at the island, but had very publicly smuggled her away right under the Navy’s nose.  There must be some kind of relationship there, the author insists.  Why else would he risk so much to help her?

Zoro wonders if they met up again after he was sent from Sabaody.  He doesn’t know if the others were sent off at the same time as him, but…well it would make sense.  There hasn’t been any mention of any of them anywhere in the papers.  He’s checked, and he asked Perona about it.

It’s a blessing in disguise, in a way.  No one knows what happened to the rest of the Straw Hats.  The world at large probably just assumes they abandoned their captain.  Anyone who knows them would think it preposterous, but it’s not unheard of among pirates.  Not everyone is as…devoted to their captain as they are to Lucy.

Perona tugs the bandages tighter than his ribs would prefer, and he winces.  “Stop that,” he snaps.

“Oh excuse me while I provide urgent medical attention!” Perona snips.  “If you were anyone else you’d probably be dead right now!”

Yeah maybe, but he isn’t, so Zoro just grunts in acknowledgement, staring at Lucy’s face.

Two years.  Two years until he sees her again.

He wishes he could redo the last week or so they had together.  He was so wrapped up in his own head he didn’t even acknowledge the whole…well she kissed him.  And Brook implied…well Zoro’s not exactly sure.  It was a confusing conversation.  He may have had a concussion at the time.

He’s still not sure, exactly, what he feels for her.  He’s got nothing to compare it to.

Looks like he has some time to figure it out though.

I won’t let you down, Lucy, he promises.  I won’t.  I’ll get stronger.  And in two years…I’ll see you then.

Chapter Text

“C’mon, you said you’d train me!” Zoro growls.

“I specifically said training would begin once you were recovered,” Mihawk responds primly.  Mihawk, as Zoro has discovered, is a lil’ bitch.

“It’s been two weeks.  I’m recovered.”

And he is, mostly.  Well okay, a normal person would still probably be pretty beat up, but Zoro’s fine.  He’s fought on much worse than this.  Yeah, the wounds under his hamarki are refusing to close all the way because they ran out of anything resembling sanitary stitches the third time Perona caught him exercising without permission and they popped out, but it’s, y’know, fine.  It’s not like it’s still an open wound or anything, and his meditation techniques are pretty handy with stuff like this.

“I cannot train someone who only brings me youth, arrogance, and pride.  A fully functioning body is required.”

Zoro glares at Mihawk over the dining table.  Hawk Eyes says nothing, just shakes the newspaper out once.

Zoro tries not to look at it with too much curiosity.

As expected, there hasn’t been any word from any of his nakama.  He’s even started hoarding papers to try and look for clues or communications or something, since that seems like the type of thing Nami or Usopp or Robin would do.  So far, nothing from the Straw Hats, but he has noticed that one couple seems to be using the classifieds to have an emotional affair from afar.

Zoro’s kind of surprised he figured that out, to be honest.

He’s been bored, okay?

In some ways, no news is good news.  It means they’re safe, because it would surely make the news if anyone turned up dead.  It would be a point to the Marines, publicity-wise.  Between the increase in violent piracy since Whitebeard’s death and Sengoku’s resignation as Fleet Admiral, public opinion of the Navy is low.  Aokiji and Akainu are in a pissing match over leadership, and the smaller Marine bases are all overwhelmed.

Zoro doesn’t really have an opinion on who should get the job either way.  If he had to pick, it would be the ice guy.  He doesn’t seem as douchey as most Marines.  He could have killed Lucy and Robin back on Long Ring, but he didn’t.

Aokiji should have been a wake-up call, in hindsight.

“I need to train,” he insists.

“Stop reinjuring yourself, and perhaps you’ll be able to do so.”

Zoro stabs his steak angrily.  It makes him think of Lucy, stuffing her face while Sanji frantically refilled her plate until Nami put her foot down.  “At least teach me something,” He grouses.  His temper has been higher than usual lately.  Given the complete lack of exercise, a slight inability to sleep, and the prickly company, he can kind of guess why.

And, well.  He misses Lucy.  It’s like that feeling people get when they try to take one stair too many and end up off-balance.  There’s supposed to be a stair.  There’s supposed to be a Lucy.

There isn’t.

“Patience, perhaps.”

Zoro just growls lowly to himself.

He’s learned Mihawk does not often lose arguments.  The closest he gets is changing his mind halfway through.  He has a sharp tongue, and he’s stubborn.

Perona is hovering above her chair on his right.  Zoro’s not exactly sure how the eating thing works when her body is technically asleep in another room, but he’s not about to ask.

The ghost girl turns one beady eye on him, eyebrow raised, and asks shrilly, “What has you so determined to get training, anyway?” 

Lucy, laughing on the lawn deck as the wind tangles her hair.

Lucy, screaming in horror, begging them to run, calling his name as Kuma’s paw—

“None of your business,” he snaps, like he always does when Perona asks a question he finds too personal.  She’s been more persistent about it recently than he would have expected.

“I would like to know as well, actually,” Mihawk interjects smoothly, the yellow eyes locking on Zoro over the rim of the paper.

Zoro glowers at him.  “Why does it matter?  I want to train.”

Mihawk stares for another moment.  Zoro glares him down.

Instead he looks down at the paper again, apparently bored.  “You said you had a deadline.  You should heal before you begin training, to reduce the risk of injury later.  Such compounded wounds would limit the effectiveness of any teachings I could offer, and you would run the risk of learning it all incorrectly.  Thusly, you would waste the next two years.”  The paper rustles as Mihawk turns the page.  Zoro catches a picture of Garp, under a headline announcing his retirement to the Naval Academy.  “Did your previous instructors not teach you about this?  Or are you just a poor student?”

“Nah, Sensei mentioned it.” Zoro acquiesces.  It’s not like he’d fool anyone saying otherwise.

Perona chokes a little on her water.  “You should be more repentant about that!”

Mihawk does not seem surprised.  “I thought it likely.  The swordmasters in the northern half of East Blue are known to be both meticulous and traditional in their teachings.”

Zoro quirks an eyebrow.  “You can tell where I was trained?”

Mihawk looks bored.  “You’re from East Blue.  There are limited options.  And while your Santoryu is a discipline unique to yourself, the roots of the style are easy to discern for anyone paying attention.  It becomes more obvious the fewer swords you use.”

Which, really, only made sense.  Zoro grew up in a dojo.  He bases his moves off of what he sees, and the blades he works with.  It’s why his repertoire became so much more diverse upon entering the Grand Line.  Masters from all over the world travel here, and Zoro has drawn his newer moves from their inspiration.  When he first fought Mihawk he’d never been outside East Blue, so his style was probably as pure as it will ever be.

“Finding its weak points is easy when you know what to look for,” Mihawk adds cuttingly.

That grabs Zoro’s attention immediately. 

“What did you say?” Zoro demands.

“You generally make up for any weaknesses with speed, but that is not always possible—an example being our fight in East Blue.”  Mihawk sips his wine almost daintily.  “There are easy corrections you could make, though, which would overcome such deficiencies.”

What, was he trying to see if Zoro would beg? “Like?”

Something other than boredom flickers in Mihawk’s eyes, but it’s gone far too quickly for Zoro to see.  “Oh?  Are you willing to learn?”

Zoro frowns at him.  “Obviously.”

He wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to learn.  That would just be stupid.

“…when you aren’t weaponizing rotational air currents, randomly varying the speed of your one or more of your blades would be useful as a distraction technique…”

It’s only much, much later, when Zoro is just about to fall asleep, that he realizes Mihawk actually started training him over dinner.

Bastard.

Finally.

He pulls the worn newspaper out from under his pillow, and looks at the solemn face of his captain.

I’ll get stronger, he promises again.  Much, much stronger.

Lucy’s face, rendered in black and white, says nothing in response.

A sea of white and ash, magma dripping like blood from the sky.  Lucy looks down, panicked, and sees a Vivre Card flutter in the wind.

She needs that card.

No—Don’t—!

Light blazes before her, Ace’s limbs spread in a protective wall between her and the attacker.  Lucy rears back, surprised and terrified but it’s fine because Ace is fire now, and no one can touch—

There’s a hole in Ace’s chest.

No.  No, no, no, no no no nonononono!

The hot, molten thing in Lucy’s gut releases, demanding Ace’s life.  The madman who impaled her brother just looks up, unimpressed.

“His blood is impure, just like yours, Lucy.”

“Shut up, he’s not—”

Ace lifts his eyes, somehow, dark irises burrowing into hers.

“I don’t want to die, Lucy.”

“So live, Ace, LIVE!”

“Lucy,” The magma man’s voice intones.  “Lucy.”

Ace tilts his head unnaturally, heedless of the hole in his chest.  “Lucy, wake up.”

Wake up?  But—

That’s not Ace’s voice.

Lucy sits up, gasping.

“Easy, easy.  It was just a nightmare.”  A large warm hand rests on her back, holding her in place.

She appreciates it.

“Thanks, Rayleigh,” Lucy chokes when her vision clears a bit.  Not Marineford.  Ruskaina.  Ace isn’t dying, he’s—

Her breath shudders a bit, and she feels her face crack with the effort to keep from sobbing.

“It’s okay to let it out,” Rayleigh reminds her.  He’s kneeling in the frosty grass around her makeshift pillow, which gives Lucy a little privacy.  “You can always let it out.”

Lucy nods, pressing her forehead to her knees, and some tears track down her cheeks as she cries—silently this time.  Not the agonized wails she had before.

Most of the time, Lucy is fine.  Maybe a bit melancholy here and there, but—fine.  Genuinely cheerful, even.  Training with Rayleigh is fun, and it’s only been a week, but she feels stronger now than before.  It’s just—seeing it in her dreams, seeing it over and over again as that admiral impales her brother, brings all those emotions into sharp focus.

But she has an island of respite.  People to live for, who soothe all those jagged edges in her heart.

She’s started a game with herself, where she imagines their reactions to certain things.  Like what Nami would do if she saw what Lucy is wearing.  Or what Usopp’s reaction would be to the big monsters on the island.

Or what Zoro would do if he saw her right now.

First he’d sit next to her, offering physical contact if she wanted it.  Maybe rest a hand on her shoulder.  Then she’d wrap herself around his chest, and he’d pat her back and tangle his fingers in her hair and awkwardly ask what was wrong.  He wouldn’t have any idea of what to do with her, none at all, and she’d be comforted more by the fact that he tried than anything.

A few tears slip out at the thought, but she smiles too.

In her head she counts them, pressing her fingers into her legs for every name.  Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji, Chopper, Robin, Franky, Brook.  Over and over again, until her breathing slows, and her eyes are dry.

After a few minutes, she’s recovered enough to look up at Rayleigh, a large, silent rock beside her.  “Sorry I woke you,” she tells him.

Rayleigh smiles.  “Not at all.”  He tilts his head and his glasses flash in the embers of the fire pit.  “You called on your Conqueror’s Haki in your sleep.  We’ll start training it a bit sooner than expected.”  He gives Lucy’s shoulder a squeeze, then stands and walks over to his side of the fire pit.  “Try going back to bed.  We still have a few hours before dawn.”

Lucy doesn’t feel the least bit tired.  “I’m okay.”

“You’ll be tired tomorrow if you don’t sleep now.”

Lucy knows Rayleigh is correct about that, but she needs a minute before sleeping again.  “I gotta pee,” she informs Rayleigh, who chuckles and doesn’t even watch where she goes as she heads for the tree line.

Rayleigh is good at not coddling her, which she supposes is impressive considering the trauma.

Outside the glow of the firelight, the jungle of Ruskaina is dark and silent.  It’s cold today, a frost somewhere between the typical weather of her own home in Foosha, and the chill of Drum Island.  There’s no snow, but every blade of grass and leaf has a fine dusting of ice.  Sanji would serve her and Robin and Nami hot chocolate and bicker with Zoro while Chopper insisted everyone wear winter coats to avoid illness.

She feels warm inside, thinking of them.  Lucy wipes the remaining tears from her eyes, and smiles.  Her nakama are amazing.  Truly.  She’s always known that—she begged them all to come because she noticed—but they even have the ability to cheer her up from a distance.  They’re the best.

Lucy likes Ruskaina.  It’s an amazing place, and it changes so much it’s like a new adventure every day.  Rayleigh is a good teacher, and seems to understand just how badly she wants to get stronger.  It’s only been a couple of weeks, but so far he’s lived up to the promise he made on the ship.  The separation’s going to be worth it in the end.

If only she could get rid of the nightmares, this place would be great.

They haven’t happened every night.  Just most nights.  This is the first time she’s used Haki in her sleep though.  Does that mean they’re getting better or worse?

It’s hard, sometimes, to wake up and not feel sad.  She misses Ace.  Misses him desperately.  She wants Ace to be sailing with Whitebeard and Marco and having adventures, just like she is.  She’s sad because of what he said at the end, how he could have had a whole life ahead of him to feel that love.

But she’s proud, too.  Proud that Ace lived the way they always said they would—with abandon, without regret, pursuing their dreams.

She has to do the same.

She gets to do the same.

After a few minutes, Lucy walks back to the campsite.  Rayleigh is asleep under his cloak, or at least pretending to be.  Lucy crawls under her blankets and revels in the leftover warmth.

Greif, Lucy’s found, comes in waves.  Sometimes it’s sharp and overwhelming, other times bitter, and often not quite present at all.  But it’s soothed with life, and with present joys.  That’s why she can laugh with Rayleigh and smile at the thought of her friends, scattered as they are across the globe.  Today her life holds promise and adventure, and it will tomorrow, and the day after that, and the one after that.  In two years, she’ll gather her friends to her side again and they’ll set sail for new seas and new adventures ahead.

Lucy drops off to sleep to thoughts of laughter, comradery, and joy, and dreams of—

Nothing.  Nothing at all.

When Zoro is finally recovered enough to train, he trains like he never has before, so hard his nakama would probably intervene if they saw him.

The thought doesn’t make him stop, doesn’t even make him hesitate.  It just fuels his drive.

Before, he trained for satisfaction, for duty, for growth.  He trained with a purpose, with the knowledge that his goals would only ever be achieved if he pushed himself to get there.  He trained eagerly, vigorously, thoroughly, never neglecting a single aspect of his swordsmanship or growth.  He was careful, and his progress was obvious as time went on.

Now he trains for all those things, and much, much more.

Every slash of his katana is in his mind’s eye an attempt to cut Kuma down on Thriller Bark, to amputate Kizaru’s leg.  He imagines Lucy’s limp body beneath Kuma’s hands and launches his attacks to match.  When he fails or messes up, he hears his nakama’s screams in his head, and feels their absence keenly.  In his mind’s eye, Kuma doesn’t push Lucy’s pain from her body, but life itself.

It is a desperate, fury-fueled way to train.  His nakama would worry.  Even the cook.

Mihawk sees it from the first morning he trains him.  He doesn’t even bat an eyelid, seems unsurprised, and says nothing.

Zoro would have told him to piss off if he tried to reign him in.  He would have told his nakama the same, but they aren’t here to hear or scold.

It’s his fault if it’s anybody’s.

Zoro trains and trains as the fight rages on and on and on inside him.

Rayleigh ducks easily under her fist, and comes up connecting his Haki-covered knuckles to the underside of her jaw.

“Ack!”

Lucy flies up and back, lifted by her chin, straight into one of the strange, poisonous tree trunks, cratering it.  She pushes herself up and out as quickly as possible, but Rayleigh is already there just when she’s about to fall to touch the earth.

“Too slow!” He chides cheerfully, and sends another fist towards her face.

Lucy ducks left and—

Her head smashes back into the tree, rocked by Haki.

Lucy ducks right, rolling out of the way, and—

Rayleigh’s left knee comes up, catching her in the sternum.

But there’s nowhere to go, so Lucy tries to gather Armament Haki across her chest, fails, and is thrown feet first into the branches of the tree by the force of Rayleigh’s kick.

“You used Observation Haki that time!  Splendid!”  The old man calls from the ground.  Lucy scrabbles for the opening in the branches which will allow her to fall—err, jump, back to earth.

Lucy falls, and kind of lands on her feet.  She looks up at all three Rayleighs with a vaguely concussed smile.  “Think so!”  She frowns, though, a little confused.  “I didn’t really mean to though.  Just sorta…” she makes a swishing gesture with her hand.  “happened.”

Rayleigh crouches a little so he can look her in the eye.  “That’s the idea, in a way.  We want you using it both consciously and unconsciously.  For now, we’re still trying to force your senses open.  We’ll work on control later.”  Rayleigh hums, dissatisfied.  “I think you have a concussion.  Does your head hurt?”

Lucy starts to nod, and then starts to fall over.

“Well, lunch then.  We’ll let your Devil Fruit’s healing work on you a bit before trying anything else.  We have been sparring all morning.”

Lucy brightens at the mention of food, and Rayleigh grins a bit.  His massive hand settles on her shoulder and guides her to the little campfire in the center of the clearing.

It’s not the safe zone.  That’s on the other side of the island.  Lucy suspects he caught her looking at the big white tree one too many times when missing her friends.  Lucy knows they’re getting stronger too, and that makes her selfish decision to postpone their meeting alright.  It doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to see them though, or that she doesn’t wish they were here.

Rayleigh guides her to the campfire, and tosses one of the fillets on the fire.  They caught a big tiger yesterday, and it had more than enough meat to feed her for a week.

(If the tiger reminded her of hunting with Ace and Sabo in the jungle, well, she didn’t mention it to Rayleigh.  Some of the grief-memories have begun to feel happy again, the way they did with Sabo.)

“No painkillers, I’m afraid,” Rayleigh tells her genially.  “Pirates only use such things in dire straits.”  A pause.  “Also, I don’t have them anyway.”

Lucy grins, and focuses on chewing.  Was it always so hard before?  Down, up, down, up, down…

Rayleigh tilts his head to the side.  Lucy knows him well enough now to know he’s using Observation Haki to map out the island’s predators.  He’s probably deciding on where to put the campsite tonight.  Lucy puts half an effort towards sensing…anything, and finds it more difficult than usual.

Rayleigh is, unquestionably, the weirdest adult Lucy has ever met.  And that’s saying something, because she’s met both Granny Kokoro and Buggy.

The names bring back memories, and just like that, Lucy’s thinking about her crew again.  She hopes they’re having fun, like she is.  She hopes they aren’t too mad at her.

Lucy only realizes she’s been staring moodily into the firepit when Rayleigh seizes her attention by standing and moving toward a bed of flowers near the tree line.

“Ah!” he calls mildly, “Now look, Lucy, and try to remember the shape of these, and the color.”  He pauses.   “…you have a concussion so you might not remember later but these are edible, if you’re ever in a pinch.  Don’t taste very good, but they’re better than nothing.”

Lucy nods, figuring Rayleigh is probably counting on telling her a few times anyway, and tries to remember.

If she was Nami or Usopp or Robin, this wouldn’t be a problem.  Franky’s really smart too.  Sanji would know already if they were edible.

Melancholy settles on her a little, and stands to walk over to Rayleigh.

Dwelling, she has discovered, is a bad habit she dislikes.

Lucy loves thinking about her friends.  They make her happy.  It’s not fair that they can make her sad, too.

When she makes it to the flowers, Rayleigh motions to the stem.  “It’s distinctive, see?  It has all these white veins in it…”

Lucy’s glad she has Rayleigh here.  She’s glad she’s not alone.  Not now, and not so long as her nakama are still breathing.

The stones in Lucy’s chest melt away, a daily task she finds gets easier with time, and she focuses on the lesson.

A month after Zoro begins training in earnest, he’s settled into a routine.

Wake up.  Bicker with Perona.  Eat.  Train for twelve hours.  Eat and drink.  Bicker more.  Sleep.  Repeat the next day.

Admittedly, Zoro makes the whole affair more exhausting than necessary on purpose.  It keeps him from thinking about shit.  Like wondering how Lucy’s doing.

(He thinks about Lucy a lot.)

It’s not that he’s avoiding thoughts of her, or anything.  It’s just...hard.  He…misses her.  More than he’s ever missed anyone.  There’s this hollow place inside his chest that he’s not sure what to do with, or how to fix, and he’s forever thinking of things to say to her.  He never realized how often she touched him, or how he’s grown to crave the contact.

The thing that makes it manageable is the promise that he’ll see her again in two years.  Less, now.  Frankly, Zoro doesn’t want to know how he would have reacted to news that she died.  He probably…well it wouldn’t have been good.

Mihawk does not spar with him, and never will, but he does watch from a distance as Zoro works on defeating the baboons.  These are stronger than the ones he met initially, and Zoro is having a much easier time with them.  This is possibly due to the fact that he’s no longer in constant agony, but that’s neither here nor there.

Lucy looked pretty beat up in the photo.  He wonders if she’s fully healed yet.

“You are distracted,” Mihawk rebukes from his observation point above.  He likes perching on things so he can look down his nose at people easier.

“Shut up, I’m fine,” Zoro growls, and the humandrill on his left goes down as he disarms it.

“Hmm.” Zoro can tell Mihawk is sipping wine even without looking.  “Tell me, what is your captain like?”

Zoro is so surprised at the question the baboon on his right nearly decapitates him.  He snaps into realization, and lashes out at the last moment, breaking the ape’s wrist.  “You’ve met her,” he grunts, finally.

“Twice,” Mihawk agrees.  “And both instances left me with an incomplete picture.”

Zoro growls, slashes upwards and dodges his opponent with a backflip.  “What’s it to you?”

Mihawk’s thick signet ring taps once against the glass before he answers.  “Titans battled at the War of the Best.  People strong enough to create legends, if they hadn’t already.  Men hailed as gods.  Those who weren’t at such a caliber should have died instantly.”

Zoro backs up a step, and the baboons let him.  They generally allow their opponents to rest if they wish, but never escape completely.  Mihawk hasn’t spoken about the war for almost two months.  Last time Zoro asked for details threats of bisection were exchanged.  He doesn’t want to miss this.

“At first, it was a chess game.  Sengoku and Whitebeard were old enemies, and they knew each other too well.  Neither entered the battle early on.  Instead they directed and strategized.  Then, after the initial casualties had accrued, and Whitebeard’s side taken a blow to morale, a ship fell from the sky, carrying two hundred escapees from Impel Down and your captain.” Mihawk’s eyes flick sharply to Zoro.  “In a baffling stroke of providence, luck, or fate, they managed to land in the one part of the bay which would not smash them all to smithereens.”

Despite the content of the speech, and the terror he’s sure Lucy was feeling for Ace, Zoro can’t quite suppress the urge to roll his eyes.  “She does that.”

Mihawk’s expression doesn’t change, but he does that thing where he gives off the impression of an emotion.  This time it’s incredulity.  “Hm.  At any rate, three minutes after she impacted the bay, she had utterly changed the momentum of the war.”

Zoro’s sure she did, but he’s not exactly sure how.  “What do you mean?”

“She prevented an attack on Whitebeard, challenged him for the position of Pirate King, and made what looked to be an alliance between equals with him.” Mihawk’s hat tilts toward the baboons.  “Then she led the charge to her brother, and firmly raised the morale and cohesion of the Whitebeard pirates.”

The baboons, now tired of waiting, spring forward with a war cry, and Zoro deflects as he speaks.  “She made friends with him, that’s all.”

“Does Straw Hat frequently befriend people like Whitebeard?”

“Yes?”

“I see.”  Out of the corner of his eye, Zoro sees Mihawk glance from under his hat at the position of Shusui as it arcs through the air.  He forces himself to slow the blade, just a bit.  “Had the Admirals not turned one of Whitebeard’s crew against him, it is possible the war would have been won on that charge alone, with both Portgas D. Ace and Edward Newgate alive and well.”

“Yeah, well, they aren’t,” Zoro grunts, lifting the crossed blades of the baboon behind him off his back.  If Ace had lived, Zoro is pretty sure he’d be with Lucy and the rest of his nakama right now, instead of listening to Mihawk ramble uncharacteristically.

He doesn’t want to talk about Lucy.  He especially doesn’t want Mihawk to talk about Lucy.

“I met her on the battlefield.  She was a middling fighter, on that stage.”  Zoro’s stomach clenches hotly.  If Mihawk is the reason Lucy was covered in bandages…  “I didn’t touch her.  Her friends got in the way.” The older man takes a sip of his wine.  “She was unstoppable.  Unlikely as it was, she just kept getting closer.  She rarely stopped to fight, but she took hits frequently.  Her agility prevented any such blows from being fatal.  When she met an opponent she could not face or escape, a stronger friend stepped between her and the opposition.”  Mihawk looks at him pointedly.  “Most pirates are strong-willed.  They do not take direction well, and especially not from someone so much weaker than themselves.”

Zoro spins out of a flurry of blades with grace, and sends Mihawk a warning glance.  “Lucy isn’t weak.”

“On the contrary,” Mihawk agrees unexpectedly.  “She was the most formidable individual on the battlefield.”

Let it not be said that Zoro in any way doubts Lucy, it’s just… “What?”

“Your captain has the uncanny ability to make friends with the most powerful of people, and ally them to herself.  I believe she does this unconsciously.  She also has not fully developed her abilities, meaning her potential is unknown.  She could grow to be stronger than even Whitebeard or Sengoku.”  A pause.  “And then there’s the matter of her Conqueror’s Haki.”

“What’s that?” Zoro grunts, ducking under an axe.  These enemies are a bit difficult sometimes because they learn so fast.

“I’ve told you about Observation and Armament Haki.  Conqueror’s Haki is the third type.  It allows the user to impose his or her will on the weak hearted, and animals.  It can’t be learned—one either has it or one does not.” A pause.  “Straw Hat Lucy used hers unconsciously to knock out nearly three hundred Marines during the last surge of the battle—including the executioners who were about to kill her brother.”

Oh.  Zoro disarms another baboon—literally—and waits for the last three to approach.

Then he remembers meeting Duval, how Lucy downed the yak without even touching it.  How he and Sanji noticed at the time, but hadn’t known what it was.  He thinks of Rayleigh, somehow knocking out an auditorium without a word or even a movement.

“Sounds dangerous,” Zoro grunts.

“It can be, to the weak-willed.  I do not know if that was her first time using it or not, but it seemed a largely untrained skill.  At any rate, that was the moment both Marines and Pirates realized what I had—that Straw Hat Lucy was the most dangerous person there.  The Marines ordered an all-out attack on her, demanding her head, and Whitebeard ordered his men behind her, protecting her as she freed her brother.”

It doesn’t…surprise Zoro that Lucy would end up the centerpiece of a battle, but the thought of her caught between two armies like that makes his stomach twist unpleasantly.  “Why?”

“I told you Conqueror’s Haki cannot be learned.  It is an exceedingly rare gift.  One said to be a blessing from the gods, and the mark of a king.”  A glance at the setting sun.  “The Marines were afraid of her becoming the next Pirate King, or the next Whitebeard, or even just a problem down the line, especially with her heritage as Dragon the Revolutionary’s daughter, and Whitebeard more or less appointing her the herald of the next age when he threw his support behind her as he did.”

Zoro frowns, twists, and the baboon behind him is split from naval to shoulder.  “Lucy doesn’t give a crap about stuff like that.  She told everyone she was going to be Pirate King a long time ago.” Zoro grumbles.  “I don’t know why they expected any different.”

Mihawk’s mouth curls up at the corner in a rare smile.  He only does that when he’s really entertained.  “Indeed.  At any rate, I find her a fascinating individual.  I have seen her act on your behalf and on her brother’s, and both occasions left me with the impression of a girl who is both strong willed to the point of injury, and loyal to her ideals.  Someone who cares deeply for those around her, and inspires similar depth of emotion within her contemporaries.  Perhaps an individual even capable of bringing arrogant young men to humility for her sake.”  Mihawk’s eyes light on Zoro again, sharp and perceptive.  “At any rate, I advise you to cease thinking about her quite so frequently in training, or you will not be able to keep up with her growth.”

With that, Mihawk slips over the edge of the concrete he was reclining on, and leaves Zoro alone among the agonized baboons.

Fuck, Zoro thinks.  Just…fuck.

He wishes he could get the story of Marineford from Lucy herself, instead of Mihawk’s truncated accounts.  Between all the speculation in the news and the slow drip of detail from Mihawk, he keeps imagining worse and worse versions of the events she suffered.

He wishes he could have been there, helped her himself.

Zoro shoves his katana into his hamarki with just a little more force than usual.  They’re still acting oddly.  Like they’re as upset over something as he is over Lucy.  It’s giving him a headache.

Slowly, he makes his way toward the castle.  One benefit to training twelve hours a day is general exhaustion.  Sleep isn’t something Zoro normally struggles to get but sometimes...well, sometimes he thinks about Lucy until the moon sets.

Mihawk’s right.  He needs to get a grip on himself.  It’s not like him to obsess.

He’s scared for her.  Has been since splitting up at Sabaody.  It’s like his mind can’t process that she’s safe somewhere, that she willingly—

Okay, so he’s—he’s mad at her.  For making them stay away.  For making him stay away.  For doing so without consulting them first.  For kissing him and then—

It’s not fair, being mad at her for this.  He knows why she did it.  Had he been there, Zoro would have supported it.  Would have suggested, maybe, that the two of them train together, but…

(He’ll never admit to this, not ever, but he stared at that article nearly every minute he was on bedrest hoping there would be something there asking Zoro, specifically, to go find her.  Shameful and pathetic, yes, but he still did it because he couldn’t quite believe she’d just…disappear like she did.)

Zoro trudges up the massive concrete steps to the castle and sighs.  He’s being ridiculous.  None of this is her fault.  She made the right call.  He’s training under the best swordsman in the world to better support her and also to fulfill his own dream.  He’ll see her in approximately twenty-one months.  He’s getting stronger and it feels good.

But sometimes he can still feel her lips on his skin like a brand, and he helplessly wonders what she meant by it if she could just choose to stay away all along.

On Ruskaina, there aren’t many good places to take a bath.  Half the natural water sources are filled with algae that secretes a poisonous film which can kill a person if he or she either ingests or touches it.  The other half are generally in the areas the most dangerous animals live.

Normally, Rayleigh forces her to try and use her own Conqueror’s Haki to ward off any unwanted visitors from the bathing areas.  But, occasionally, when he notices her rubbing her chest at the tight scar tissue and she’s been doing well with training, he helps her ward them off so she can take a bath in relative peace.  Rayleigh’s so good he can do it from across the island.

Today is one of those days.

Lucy’s spent the last thirty-eight hours awake and on the run, because Rayleigh decided it was about time she figured out how Armament Haki worked, and the normal methods weren’t working.

Long story short, they played tag with boulders infused with Haki.

Lucy never got to be “it.”

And then, because Rayleigh’s a bastard, he refused to let her back into camp until she’d at least manifested Armament Haki at will.  This meant Lucy spent the night fleeing various creatures that wanted to kill her.

Lucy forgives him, though, because now…

Lucy lifts her hand out of the water, inspecting the black bar spread across her knuckles.  It’s thin, and she can’t hold it long, but it’s there.

She wonders if Zoro and Sanji have started training their Haki yet.  She wonders if the others have.  She’d bet Sanji is really good at Observation Haki.  Zoro too, actually.

With a last wink of effort, the metallic bar fizzes off her skin, and Lucy’s left looking at dry, swollen knuckles rough from the training.

It’s her left hand.

Lucy turns it over, and examines the scar across her palm.

It’s been four months since she received it, and she can’t look at it without thinking of Zoro.  It healed into a pink, smooth line, a bit raised but nothing distracting.  It’s very unlike her other two scars—the one under her eye, and the one dealt across her chest.

Jimbei told her, when she pressed, that it was Akainu who did it, and that her friend took the brunt of the attack.  Lucy, in her catatonic state, had no natural defense against it, and so still ended up the worse off between them.

She remembers wondering if she still had breasts when she woke up, the pain in her chest so terrible and diffuse she was unable to tell from feel alone.  Part of her is glad she wasn’t conscious for most of the initial healing.  It was probably intolerable.

As it happens, Lucy does still have her breasts, and for that she’s grateful.

Kitetsu at least had the decency to cut her cleanly, so the scar would heal nicely.  Turns out magma does no such favors.  The scar looks like a big X, diagonal lines crossing at her sternum, and stretching from the bottom of her ribcage to under her collarbones.  The tissue healed unevenly in places, but it’s mostly the smooth, angry red of a painful burn.  It aches, sometimes.  Like whatever Trafalgar did to save her life pulled the skin a bit too tight.

It’s ugly, and it’s painful, but it’s a small price to pay.  Lucy’s never been one for vanity, and certainly not to the point where she’d trade her life for it.  She has much more important things to live for, and if needs must, die for.

It’s still a bit sensitive to touch, but Lucy traces it carefully with her fingertips, memorizing the ridges and releasing pressure points where she can.  The scar is still novel enough that it feels strange to her fingers, and that seems weird, having her own body feel alien.

Lucy doesn’t think Zoro will care about her scars much.  That would be stupid, and Zoro isn’t that.

(She occasionally does wonder, though, if Zoro is currently spending a lot of time with another girl in any sort of romantic capacity.  While she doesn’t think Zoro’s feelings would change easily, two years is a long time and she doesn’t know what he feels for her, or if those feelings were really as reciprocal as she thought.  She wonders, in darker moments that make her chest feel too tight and her stomach hot, if the hypothetical other girl is pretty, or at least prettier than her, and if Zoro prefers girls who are bustier, or girlier or less independent than Lucy.)

The warm water of the spring makes her aches melt a little, loosens the scar tissue.  She feels drained, exhausted, and that’s only partly because of the training.  The spring is in a saltwater basin, and even though it helps her scar tissue heal, it drains her more than freshwater does.

Lucy had to get used to bathing alone again.  It still feels odd, being near water and knowing none of her nakama are around to catch her if she falls in, that Zoro isn’t hovering behind her to fish her out of the sea.  He does—did it so often that Nami started making bets on it against unsuspecting new crewmembers.

As it is, she’s using a leather strap Rayleigh lent her.  She’s got it looped around a nearby stump to keep herself from falling in.  Annoying, but necessary, since this water is deep enough to drown in and Rayleigh has stated on more than one occasion that he refuses to rescue her from a bathtub, which…honestly?  Fair.  That’s fair.  Pirate Kings should be able to deal with bathtubs.

With a sigh, Lucy tilts her head back on the rocks, throat exposed, and rubs her fingertips over the scar on her palm absentmindedly.  She remembers promising she would tell Zoro when it was healed, use it as a marker for the novelty of Thriller Bark’s trauma.  She thought it wouldn’t be more than a month before she had her answer as to how Zoro feels about her, whether he wants her the way she wants him.

When they meet again, Lucy’s going to tell him on the first chance she gets.  The thing she’s looking forward to the least for the next twenty-one months is not knowing his answer, and sitting on her own feelings.  It’s against her nature, waiting for what she wants like that.  She usually acts on her desires as soon as she knows them.

She waited in Thriller Bark, though.  For good reasons, too.  Zoro just seemed so…off due to whatever happened, and she doesn’t necessarily regret it, but…well.  Lucy wishes it had turned out a bit differently.

Lucy wishes a lot of things turned out differently.

When she isn’t having nightmares about Ace, his death and his tortured thank-you, she sleeps dreamlessly.  Before, she had really vivid, intense dreams.  The kind that made her eager to go to sleep and see what kind of adventures her mind would conjure up.

Now, when she closes her eyes there’s Ace, his blood, his death, his smile, or there’s—nothing.  Just oblivion.

Lucy’s not certain which scares her most anymore.

Perona is a constant presence in Zoro’s daily life at Kuraigana.  She likes to bicker with him, like she’s bored doing anything else, and watches him train from a distance a lot.  She likes to insult him when he fucks something up.  Mostly, Zoro finds her annoying, but…not awful.  Actually some of her quirks remind him a little of his nakama.  Her presence isn’t the worst thing in the world.

But Zoro is not, despite some people’s assertations, a total idiot.  He knows from the way Perona sometimes eyes him, from a few innuendos, that she’s…well, interested.  It’s happened before, in various bars.  He knows what it looks like when someone is looking for sex.  Zoro’s pretty sure Perona isn’t interested in anything more than that, at least.

Zoro has no interest in Perona at all—pathetically he can’t even imagine holding interest for someone who isn’t Lucy—and so he ignores it, hoping she’ll get the hint.  And mostly it seemed like she got it, until one evening four months into his training.

Perona, determined as she usually is, basically just barges into his room and whines, “I want sex!”

Zoro, caught off guard, rears back in surprise.  “What?”

“I want sex!  With you!  Now strip!”

Zoro raises a defensive hand, unconsciously prepared to push her back.  “No!”

Perona pouts, then glares and stalks toward him by a boot-clad step.  “Yes!”

Zoro backs up a little, his knees hitting his bed.  “No.”

“Oh come on, I’m the only girl here, you must be frustrated—”

“I—Jesus, that is none of your business.”

Perona stalks forward again, and Zoro scrambles backward to put the bed between them, knocking the pillow off in the process.  “I’m frustrated,” she tries, walking all the way up to the bed now, and Zoro plasters himself against the wall, edging to the left in order to make a break for the door.

“Dear lord, what is wrong with you?”  He growls.

Perona doesn’t say anything though.  In fact she’s not even looking at him at the moment.  Instead she’s staring at his bed, where the pillow was, and where the picture of Lucy from a few months ago has been cut out and still rests.

Slowly, Perona reaches out and picks it up, taking obvious care.

“Oh,” she says, quiet and a bit surprised.  “Oh.”

Then she looks at him, frowning, and tips her head to the side.  “That’s why you asked Fancy Pants to train you, isn’t it?  For her.”

Zoro says nothing.  He doesn’t have to.

Perona nods, and then sets the picture down carefully where she picked it up.  “I see.”  Then she grins at him, and their usual relationship resumes, antagonistic friendship restored.  “I think Fancy Pants has wine in the cellar.  Want to go steal it?”

Oh God, being drunk right now sounds like a really, really good idea.  “Yes.”

“Great.  Let us never speak of this again.”

Perona may be a demon bitch perfectly manufactured to irritate him, but occasionally they’re on the same page.

Time passes quickly.  Quicker than Zoro expected, at any rate.  One day he looks up and six months have passed since Sabaody, finding Zoro stronger than he’s ever been before.

He still has a long way to go.

According to Hawk Eye he’s “passably competent in the very basics, for an earthworm” of Armament Haki, but his Observation Haki is still “equivalent to that of vermin,” and has banned him from drinking, again, until he improves.

Zoro hopes Mihawk never meets Robin.  They’d like each other too much, the sneaky bitches.

Anyway, things had more or less settled for Zoro in a cycle of listening to either Mihawk or Perona bitch at him, training until he’s banned from picking up his swords again, eating massive amounts of food, and unfortunately not drinking, when one morning Zoro wakes to a newspaper dropping on his face.

He bats it away on reflex, and glares at the offender.

Perona, her hair coiled in fancy pigtails and wearing her usual black-on-black getup, raises an eyebrow at Zoro.  “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” she coos.

Zoro growls.  “Why not?”

“Your captain made the news again,” Perona tells him, like it isn’t the most important thing he’s heard anyone say in months.

Where’s the newspaper?

He scrabbles around, out of his bed and checking the floor when Perona shoves it under his nose.  He snatches it out of her hand and rips it open.

“Honestly, you’re hopeless,” she drones.  “It’s not even new news, it’s—”

SPECIAL EDITION:  SIX MONTHS AFTER THE WAR, THE FALLOUT AND FATES OF THE MAJOR PARTICIPANTS

Six months ago, the power differential between the Navy and organized pirate groups shifted drastically, and were forever altered with the deaths of Edward Newgate, the pirate Whitebeard, and Portgas D. Ace, Whitebeard’s Second Division Commander and son of Gol D. Roger.  This edition is dedicated to analyzing the verifiable strokes of the battle, the aftermath of the War, and follow-ups on the most significant actors of the battle.

****The information in this paper has been verified via the Revolutionary Army, a group which believes the public can and should be trusted with the truth, as recalled by eye-witnesses and secret reports which have been liberated from the Navy.  The Revolutionary Army takes all credit for the dispersal of this information, and as such the Daily Coo is not responsible for the potential sensitivity of this content.

“Special edition…” Zoro whispers.  The front-page article is titled Who, When, Where, and Why, the Story of the War.  It’s accompanied by a picture of the Whitebeard fleet amassing in the harbor of Marineford.  It’s in black-and-white, but Zoro can practically feel the tension radiating off of the image.  He can picture the pirates rallying under Whitebeard’s flag, furious at the capture of their friend.  It probably felt a lot like what raiding Enies Lobby felt like for the Straw Hats.

“Fancy Pants says it’s the most accurate reporting he’s seen on the war.  He has no idea how Dragon did it, but it looks like the Revolutionaries seized control of the papers for the day.”

The story next to it is a biography of Whitebeard.  There’s a picture of his body, still standing tall even in death, with holes gaping from his chest and stomach so large Zoro could crawl through them.

Zoro didn’t know the guy, but he thinks it’s pretty sad he died.  It seems like he was strong.  Fighting him was probably fun, and Zoro never got a shot at it.

The article underneath the top story is a thumbnail titled Portgas D. Ace and His Pivotal Role, which is next to an analysis of the Fleet Admiral, the admirals below him.  Next to that is an update on the pissing match for Fleet Admiral between Akainu and Aokiji.  After that is—

MONKEY D. LUCY:  THE GREATEST SURPRISE OF THE WAR—HER PAST, HER FUTURE, AND HER TRAGEDY.

They didn’t.

Zoro checks the page number.  Lucy has three full-page spreads in the paper, on pages 3, 5, and 7.

Madly, Zoro rips the paper to the correct page and—

They did.

Jesus, it has subtitles.

The reason it has so many pages though isn’t because there’s a lot of detail about her.  It’s because they have a truly ridiculous number of pictures of Lucy from the battle, like someone was following her the whole time.  And all the photos are blown up disproportionately, so that the article itself only takes up a third of the page.

The one at the top of Lucy’s first page is Lucy, standing next to Whitebeard.  Apparently it’s on his ship.  The caption tells him about her “chaotic, but magnificent entrance” to the battle, and that a picture of the ship falling can be seen on the next page.

Lucy looks taller than she is, standing next to Whitebeard like that.  It’s an effect she sometimes has when doing something crazy.  But the thing is, she already looks beat up.  He can see her wearing bandages, and her clothes look clean but her face is bruised and she’s got blood trickling out from under her hairline.

She was in Impel Down before Marineford, he remembers.  She looks exhausted in the photo and she hasn’t even started fighting yet.

The first section is an article summarizing how she’s affiliated with the Whitebeard Pirates, and discusses various relationships observed throughout the battle.  Mostly they talk about Whitebeard and his First Division Commander, Marco the Pheonix.  Zoro assumes this is the flame guy talking to Lucy in one of the smaller pictures surrounding it.  She looks much worse for wear in that one.  There’s blood rivulets down her arm, and a great deal more ash and bruising littering her skin.

The bottom half of the page discusses Lucy’s heritage, and the circumstances which led her to become Ace’s foster sister.  There’s a picture of Lucy leaping off of Whitebeard’s ship, steam billowing from her shoulders.  In the background of the picture there’s something that could be a scaffold.  Between them is the utter chaos of battle.

The bottom quarter of the page, however, is filled by a picture of Lucy sprinting across the battlefield, presumably toward Ace.  The photographer got a shot of her so close that he can see acid burns on her arms.  Lucy’s hair is blown back by her speed, and a grimace stretches her lips.  Her eyes are blown wide in desperation, in a way Zoro has never seen before.

The caption says it was taken on her initial charge to the scaffold, but her sandaled feet are already soaked in gore.

But there’s strength there too, present in the clenching of her fists, the steel in her jaw.  There’s determination and willpower.  Had this been the only picture of the war, and had he been given no other information, Zoro would have bet his life, his dream, anything, that Lucy succeeded in whatever she set out to do.

Zoro turns the page again, looking for the next part of the article.

It’s hard to miss.

The top of the page is dominated by a picture of Lucy, soaking wet and carrying a mast, staring down the three admirals without a trace of fear.  She’s crouched in a horse stance, thighs flexing powerfully and her eyes blazing, even in the grainy black and white.  Her cheeks and clothes are flecked with blood, and her wet hair arcs in mid-motion around her, water still curling from touchdown.  Ace strains against his chains above them, horror evident in the gash of his mouth while the Fleet Admiral stands impassively above the brewing clash, observing and not interfering.

It’s breathtaking.  Zoro can feel the tension radiating off of Lucy, the absolute determination to move past the three greatest obstacles on the field.  The look in her eye is terrible and beautiful, something he’s not sure he’s seen in her before.  There’s rage there, indignity, maybe even wrath, and Zoro can barely look away to track her injuries.

I AM THE INEXORABLE FUTURE, the article’s subtitle reads, in all caps and a large, dominating font that takes up another inch of space in the paper.  Zoro can certainly understand why they feel that way.  The picture makes it look like she’s declaring war on the government all over again, like there’s no stopping her from marching straight through the Marines.

The article speaks in highly speculative terms about Lucy, and her relationship to the navy.  They discuss the idea that it was feuding with Garp that drove her to piracy in the first place, and whether she hates the institution on a personal level or not.  It discusses, too, the extreme response the Navy seems to have toward her, and decide this is due to her father.  The article also mentions a “mysterious ability” Lucy presented on the battlefield, but which, due to eye-witnesses having either poor memories of the event or refusing to speak on it, is poorly understood to anyone who wasn’t there. 

Anyone with half a brain and who knows about Conqueror’s Haki could probably figure out what the “mysterious ability” is, since it sent the Marines scurrying after her.  But Zoro also heard it from Mihawk so he might not be the best judge.

At the bottom of the page there’s a picture of Ace and Lucy, fighting back to back at the bottom of the scaffold.  There’s a fluidity to their movements that even in the photograph seems impressive.  Fire blooms in whip-like tendrils from Ace’s hands, sweeping across incoming Marines, and Lucy flings a fist out to catch those on the other side.  Zoro can picture the move in his head, knows exactly the way each marine would fling away, and exactly how she would roll down so Ace could leap over her, switching opponents to confuse them.

There are two identical grins on their faces, wide and fierce, black hair lifting from both their foreheads under the brims of their hats.  The caption says it was taken right after Lucy freed Ace, and Sengoku destroyed the platform.  They both look exhausted, dripping with blood from various places, but they look happy.  Joyous.

Zoro moves to turn to the next page, and a perfectly manicured hand shoots out, blocking his way.

Zoro rears back, growling at Perona. He forgot she was there.  “Hands off!”

Perona lunges toward the paper, heedless.  “No!  The next page is…” she trails off.  Zoro pauses.  “Listen, did you know the kid?  Straw Hat’s brother?”

“I met him once,” Zoro admits.  “Why…?”  He pauses.  Looks at Perona in horror.  “They didn’t…”

Perona looks away.  Zoro rips the newspaper open to page seven.

There’s a picture taking up nearly the whole top half of the page.  Lucy is on her knees, blood soaking her clothes, her arms, her hands, as she holds her palms in front of her facing the sky as if in prayer, and Ace is…

Ace is lying before her on the stone, his forehead brushing Lucy’s knee.  His hands are at his sides and his palms up, with a hole through his Whitebeard tattoo and ink-black blood dribbling from his smiling lips.

The expression on Lucy’s face is—is—

There are no words for that expression.  None.  Zoro never wants to see her wear it again.  There’s something fragile about it, like something precious has broken inside her, and her lips are forming Ace’s name, he can tell even in the picture.  Her brother’s blood is splattered across her face, stains her clothes and skin, pools around her knees and fills the grooves of the cobblestone beneath them.

TRAGEDY:  JUST-FREED BROTHER DIES TO SAVE HER DURING RETREAT, the subtitle reads.  The article then explains that Akainu targeted both Ace and Lucy after a retreat was called.  Ultimately, Ace took a blow meant for Lucy, and died as a result.  Lucy, it reports, went catatonic and had to be carried from the battlefield by the former Warlord Jimbei.  Then she was taken in by Trafalgar Law and his crew, after suffering major injuries by the still-in-pursuit Akainu.  There is, Zoro notices absently, no speculation this time that Lucy and Trafalgar are romantically involved.

Zoro closes the paper, and sets it on his bed.  Perona hovers a few feet away from him, lips pursed and eyebrows pinched.

Zoro stands, going for his swords.  They’re screaming in his head, and their horror echoes his own.

But he doesn’t want to—shouldn’t—train like this, with so much—so much—

Rage.

But rage at what?  At the paper?  At the navy?  At Ace, for dying?  None of those—he can’t rage at those.  Rage is for people who don’t have to control their lesser natures, rage—

He’s sad.  He’s frustrated and impotent.  Too little too late.  Maybe he could have done something six months ago, but he was nearly comatose at the time, because he wasn’t strong enough to beat Kuma.  Instead Zoro was useless and got everyone split up, and he’s still angry about it.

Zoro walks back over to the bed, fists clenching.  He picks up the paper and reads the end of the article, folding it away from him so he doesn’t have to see Lucy’s face.

The End or The Beginning? The final subtitle reads.  It describes Lucy’s return to Marineford a month after the battle and her bizarre actions there.  The article speculates that she was, perhaps, disbanding her crew as they have not been seen since.  The other option, apparently, is that she was declaring herself the leader of a new age of pirates.

Horseshit, that.

“The revolutionaries published this?”  Zoro asks.  If so, Dragon’s an even shittier father than he thought, publicizing these pictures.  Publicizing that picture.

“Fancy Pants thinks so,” Perona confirms, voice quiet.  “Her father…he’s the leader, right?”

Zoro doesn’t say anything.  Perona already knows.

“There’s, uh, more.” Perona adds.  Zoro looks up warily.  Perona squirms a little and then just sighs.  “Turn to page ten.”

Zoro does, and he sees—

The whole page is taken up by a picture of Ace, a pillar of magma through his chest and indominable as he holds back Akainu from attacking…from attacking…

Lucy’s leaning back, away from the two men, but even though Zoro can’t see her face, the shot taken from behind her, it’s clear she’s realized what happened.  Her fingers grasp toward Ace, her supporting hand pressed painfully against the stone.  Ace’s face is grimaced in agony, but his eyes are pinned to Lucy.

“Why publish that?” Zoro asks hollowly.  They already had a picture of his death, didn’t they?  They didn’t need to have this, too.  Dragon didn’t, especially.  Sharing the worst moment of Lucy’s life like that is just…

“The article is an obituary,” Perona explains.  “I don’t know why they didn’t just use the wanted poster.”

“They detest the government,” a low voice counters.  Zoro looks up to see Mihawk leaning against his doorframe.  “They would likely find using one of their enforcement mechanisms…unpalatable.”  Mihawk nods to the paper.  “The use of that particular photo, however, was probably an attempt to sway public opinion against Akainu.  The paper in general is very sympathetic to your captain and Portgas.”

Damn well better be, considering she’s Dragon’s own damn daughter—

“In response to this, I’ve been called for a meeting at the Naval Headquarters.  Do what you wish until I return.  I expect your Observational Haki to be vastly improved by then.”

Zoro nods, but doesn’t look up when he leaves.

“Well.  So that’s a thing,” Perona tries.

That’s an understatement.

He’s so—glad, to see a picture of Lucy.  Guiltily glad.  Even if they’re out of date and horrible they’re still her photo and…

In the pictures where she’s not terrified or agonized, Lucy looks exactly how he remembers her.  Strong.  Fierce.  Determined.  Beautiful, right down to the scar under her eye and the blood on her knuckles.

He’s been thinking about her.  More than he should be.  More than he does their other friends. 

He wishes they parted on a…more resolved note.  This halfway-in-between thing is killing him.  Part of him wants to be mad at her, and can’t be anymore, especially not after seeing these pictures and the level of intensity this type of training requires.  Nothing less than daily dedication would produce results, and that just isn’t possible travelling Straw Hat style.  A much larger part of Zoro wants to be mad at the world in general, but that doesn’t really accomplish anything, and Zoro’s never been one for letting circumstance control him.  It’s just fate.

Zoro dreams about her sometimes.  Usually they’re quiet ones, where he sees her alone, off in the distance.  Nothing in particular is wrong, it’s just…incongruous.  Lucy likes attention.  She never pulls away from Zoro.  Sometimes in these dreams he tries to go to her and can’t.

Pathetically, he always wakes from those thinking he just wants to hear her laugh.

Perona lets out a heavy sigh.  “Look, were you guys in a fight or something?”

Zoro glances up from the paper, startled.  “What?  No.  We weren’t.”

Kind of the opposite, actually.

“Then stop looking so mopey all the time when you think about her!” Perona whines, exasperated.  “She’s fine, you’re fine, you’ll see her in a year and a half!”

“I do not mope,” Zoro retorts, stung.

“If you’re not moping you’re pining,” Perona snips back.

“Pining?”

“Yes!  Pining!  Get over it already, she made a choice and you all decided to live with it!”

Zoro growls at her.  “Shut up, you don’t know anything about it!”

Perona is unimpressed.  “Oh really?”  She turns primly, nose in the air, and hovers toward the door.  “Just accept the situation already, or you’re going to be a mess when you do finally see her, you big dumb idiot.”  She pauses, and then whips around eyes wide.  “Wait…you haven’t told her, have you?”

Zoro glares, sitting straighter to gain more height.  “What are you talking about?”

Perona’s mouth drops open.  “You…THAT YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HER, YOU NEANDERTHAL.”

Zoro snaps his mouth shut.  Looks away.  “I’m not—”

“Don’t!” Perona interrupts, flitting over to him.  “Don’t finish that sentence.  You might actually start to believe it, and then where would you be?  Miserable and even more hopeless than usual, that’s where.”  Perona gives a long, breathy sigh.  “Jeez.  And I thought you were dumb before.”

Then Perona looks at him with uncharacteristic seriousness, and stares.  Zoro, feeling more vulnerable than he usually does around Perona, glares back, defensive.

For once, Perona doesn’t say anything.  She just sighs, and then disappears through the door.

It’s weird, but sometimes silence is louder than it used to be.

Zoro wakes that night in a cold sweat, dreaming horribly of Lucy lying dead on the cold stone of Marineford, eyes blank and blood soaking her clothes.  Zoro lies awake until morning, unable and unwilling to sleep.

He wasn’t there.

He wasn’t there.

Chapter Text

She does this as a ritual every night before she goes to sleep:

First, she holds out her hands, fingers splayed in front of her face.  Then she presses each digit down, one at a time, until each one is associated with a name from her crew.  She pictures each of their faces, and recalls a memory integral and characteristic of them and her relationship with each, and focuses until it feels real.

(For Zoro it’s his laugh when she’s truly entertained him, one way or another.  It’s the way he thrills at a fight, his eyes sharp and deadly and alive.  It’s the way he looked at her sometimes, the one that made longing and desire burn in her until it was all she could do to refrain from jumping him.)

Then she rolls onto her side, so her back faces the firepit, and imagines the warmth there is another body instead, one that smells like steel, sake, and blood.  Thusly she falls asleep, hoping to dream once more.

When Lucy thinks of the word “father,” nothing much comes to mind.  She never had one, and if she occasionally wondered about it, and about her mother, not knowing didn’t really bother her.  Lucy had a Shanks, and a Gramps, and an Ace, and in one way or another all three of them filled roles in her life that some might consider fatherly.

Eight months into her training on Ruskaina, Lucy wonders if having a Rayleigh is similar to having a father.

It’s not an idea she’s ever voiced aloud.  Rayleigh isn’t her father, and she doesn’t really want him to be.  Rayleigh’s never tried, either, to fulfil that role.  It isn’t in either of their natures, and she’s a bit old, really, to start adopting new father figures.  Not quite innocent enough.  Not after Marineford.

(She’s not a child now, will never be again, but the way Rayleigh teaches and guides her makes her think that maybe paternal instincts don’t necessarily cease once innocence is lost.)

And the thing is, having Rayleigh around all the time has made her…aware, in a way she wasn’t before, of certain deficiencies in her own childhood.

She’s never been the subject of an adult’s undivided attention for so long before.

It’s not like there were no adults around when she was growing up.  When she was really little, Makino took care of her when necessary—meaning, when Gramps wasn’t around—but she was passed around the village a lot because Makino was so young at the time.  Shanks was around, but he also wasn’t—he usually only stayed in Foosha a day or two a week when he was wandering around East Blue those two years.  Sometimes she wouldn’t see him for a month or more at a time.  As for Gramps, well…

Lucy’s not ready to talk about Gramps.

Dadan was the closest thing to a parent she had.  She and the rest of the bandits.  And while Lucy is grateful for the childhood she had, and the chance to be Ace and Sabo’s sister, well…a lot of what happened to them up to Sabo’s death and the fire in Grey Terminal, like the thing with Porchemy, wouldn’t have happened if they had closer supervision.  She doesn’t blame Dadan, but…she was always available in case of emergency.  Not usually anytime else.

Rayleigh’s not like that.

Rayleigh is constantly tracking her progress, her growth, even if he sometimes does it from a distance for her own sake, because this training is the kind where having a safety net makes it pointless.  She can sense the care that goes into it, the genuine desire to see her improve.  For the past eight months she’s been his only priority.

It was weird at first.  Uncomfortable.  Lucy’s never been under such scrutiny before, never had the expectations and authority of another thrust at her so suddenly.  Not that she actually recognized any authority, or anything.  She got used to it eventually though, used to the way she’d sometimes find an extra blanket draped over her in the morning, or Rayleigh’s odd sense of humor, the stories he’d sometimes share.

She liked it, eventually.  Enjoyed their friendship.

What Lucy has never understood is why Rayleigh went to such lengths for her and her crew.  He didn’t have to fight Kizaru in Sabaody (she’s glad he did, so glad, because Zoro would be dead right now if he hadn’t), but he did.  He didn’t have to come find her and offer to train her, but he did.

She thought it might be Shanks, at first.  That Rayleigh was protecting them because he figured Shanks would want him to.  But Rayleigh is a little too similar to her and Shanks for that kind of interference, and once she got to know him better, she ruled that idea out.

Eventually, over dinner one night, she asked.

“I’m grateful,” she explained, emphatic.  “It’s just that I don’t get it.”

Rayleigh looks at her over his glasses, glinting in the firelight.  “It’s not usually like you to ask why someone does things.”

Well yeah, because she can usually figure it out on her own, or it’s none of her business.  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she responds, meaning it.  She’s curious, but it’s nothing she needs to know.  She knows Rayleigh.  That’s enough.

The old man takes another bite out of his waterfowl.  “You remind me of someone.  You and your whole crew, really.  I suppose you could say I did it for nostalgia.”  Then Rayleigh smiles, and like always there’s an edge of promise to it that’s darker than the expression calls for.  “But then you kids became my friends, and of course I couldn’t turn my back on you then, could I?”

Lucy smiles at him so hard her cheeks hurt.  “Nope!”

Lucy’s glad they understand each other.

“Now, what were you saying about the giant ostrich that got the better of you?  You tried to do something with your Haki?”

Lucy is…really glad Rayleigh decided to help.

There comes a day where Zoro realizes his desperation to grow stronger sometimes lifts into something purer—excitement, and the thrill of the battle.

It’s been a while since he’s felt like that in a fight.  Not since fighting the giant Zombie-Lucy on Thriller Bark, really.

It makes sense.  It was weirder, actually, that the feeling was missing for a while.  He’s always loved to fight.  It’s part of what makes him the swordsman he is.  It’s part of what he and Lucy share.

It makes him feel absurdly guilty, enjoying himself so much.

Lucy bends over backwards to avoid Rayliegh’s Haki-fueled kick, and spins her legs upwards to deliver a blow to his face.  He sways out of the way, and Lucy pushes off the ground roughly, her body twisting in mid-air, and she uses the momentum to gain speed for her punch even as she rears back, forcing herself into Rayleigh’s space, and thrusts a fist covered in Armament Haki at his sternum.

It connects, but does no damage.  Rayleigh’s chest is covered in black, and her Observation Haki alerts her to an incoming threat, so she backflips away from him just in time to avoid a fist to the head.

Distance isn’t a problem for her, though, so she winds up, fusing her arm in Haki and releases a furious blow toward Rayleigh.

Frustratingly, the smile never leaves his face as he sways down, avoiding her blow easily.  It hits the mountain behind him instead.

The rockface cracks violently, a thirty-meter crater spiraling from the blow and the fault lines exposing themselves far beyond that.  Rayleigh looks at it and gives a low whistle.  Then he takes advantage of her unguarded ribcage to knock her back while she’s overextended from the punch.

Lucy lands in a heap, her ribs on fire from Rayleigh’s blow.

“You know, if you could manage to hit me one of these days with a punch like that, I think you’d do real damage.”  He offers as Lucy hauls herself up to her elbows, panting in the sweltering heat.

Lucy grins at Rayleigh, thrilled at the praise.  “I will!”  So far she’s only been able to hit Rayleigh at close range, when she moves faster than he can react, even when using Observation Haki.  Unfortunately, this does not allow much time for wind-up, and she’s been informed that during training, using the randomization tactic she did with Eneru is considered cheating and not actually useful to building her skills.

She has his full blessing to be that creative on the battlefield though.

Rayleigh offers her a hand and a smile as she heaves herself up.  “Not if you don’t get your speed up to par.  You can’t rely on Gear Second all the time, you know.  You’ll be neglecting your basics that way.”

Lucy nods, pouting a little.  When she’d explained the mechanics of Gear Second Rayleigh had been one part horrified, one part impressed, and one part interested.  He warned her that the use of her abilities that way was dangerous, especially to a person as young as Lucy, and that she should use it sparingly if possible.  When she put up a fuss about not caring about that, he’d also told her that speeding up her abilities without Gear Second—her “base speed,” as Rayleigh called it—would allow her to improve the technique, as the doping merely expands her baseline energy output to its maximum potential.  Raising the baseline raises the potential.

He’d also started crying a little at the not caring part.  He didn’t explain why.

Rayleigh looks at the mountain she nearly shattered, and he chuckles a bit.  “You know, you fight just like your grandpa.  No restraint, either of you.”

Lucy freezes entirely, and stares.

Rayleigh raises an eyebrow at her, noticing the reaction.  “What?  You knew I’d met him, right?”

And, yeah, she did.  She knew Gramps chased Roger all over the world, so that meant he probably chased Rayleigh as well.  And logically, that probably meant they’d fought a few times.

“What…” She swallows.  “What did you think of him?”

Because much as she hates to admit it, she’s still struggling with this.

Gramps didn’t free Ace himself, didn’t prevent the execution from happening.

Gramps let her hit him, let her get to Ace.

She doesn’t know how to deal with the conflict in his ideals, or the subsequent frustrations with her own.

Rayleigh looks at her in sharp surprise.  It’s not the type of question she usually asks, because she likes to make opinions for herself.  But it’s been almost a year now and she still can’t think about Gramps without feeling sick so she needs to try something new.

“Garp?  I didn’t know him well personally.  Roger understood him better.  Liked him, even.  He was a good Marine though.  Didn’t tolerate the mistreatment of prisoners or civilians by his crews.  Stood up to his officers when he felt they were wrong.  Did his own thing when he felt like it.”  Rayleigh shakes his head, and Lucy can see the memories filing themselves away in his head.  “Good fighter.  Could stand toe-to-toe with Roger and not break a sweat.”

Huh.  Sounds a little like Smokey, actually.  She remembers Alabasta, remembers the rain that came from nowhere and the Marines Nami told her about, the ones that looked away. 

Rayleigh is studying her, a frown line of concern on his face.  “Why do you ask?  You know him much better than I ever could.”

Lucy winces, recalling meals with Gramps and Ace and how he cried when Sabo died, how it felt to fall asleep on his shoulder at age five, when she believed him to be the biggest, strongest man in the world, utterly infallible, how she maybe wanted to be like him but a pirate.

She remembers him guarding the way to Ace, calling her by the Straw Hat moniker she’s picked up thanks to Shanks’ hat, and how it felt to have that familiarity ignored.

Lucy has always felt that people should follow their own dreams.  Gramps is the one that taught her that.  It’s why she can be friends with Marines like Smokey and Coby and Gramps and still be a pirate.  It’s why she’d never begrudge her father for doing what his dreams require, or her grandfather for being gone so much of her childhood.

But this…

“Gramps didn’t…he didn’t help Ace.  Back at Marineford.  And he kinda stopped me, but also kinda let me get to Ace too.  And I’m not—I haven’t—” Lucy spreads her arms helplessly, not sure how to express what she means, not sure if she wants to.

Gramps doesn’t need her forgiveness.  Not really.  Gramps will continue to be Gramps and probably not see her for another five or so years, and then he’ll be acting like nothing happened, probably.  But she wants to stop feeling so furious at him, wants to stop feeling so sad when she thinks of him, and forgiveness can do that.

Besides, it wasn’t Gramps’ job to save Ace.  Not his or anyone else’s.  It was hers, and she failed.

So why can’t she put this behind her?

Rayleigh seems to get it though, and nods sympathetically.  “I see.”  He reaches out and claps her on the shoulder, encouraging and firm.  “Everyone makes their own decisions, Lucy.  Sometimes people clash on the important things.”

Lucy nods.  “I know, but,” she shakes her head, trying to find the words.  “But then why do I feel so upset?”

Rayleigh makes a low thinking noise.  “Hm.  Well, I suppose because you love him.  And you know he loved your brother, too.”

Lucy nods, and sniffs a little.  “Yeah.”

Rayleigh squeezes her shoulder again.  “Forgiveness comes in time, Lucy.  I can’t say I would have made the same decisions as Garp did, but…” Rayleigh frowns, searching for the right words.  “Your grandfather has been a Marine for a long time.  He believes in what they do.  He may have felt honor-bound to uphold their orders, as he has his whole life.”  Rayleigh hesitates.  “I don’t know the man well, but…at a certain point, defying one order, one ruling, on an issue so uncontroversial as the execution of a pirate, well…it would have felt like a wasted life, no?  A wasted set of beliefs and values which have up until then carried him through.  If a man gives that kind of thing up, then…well, what is he?”

Lucy grimaces at the wording, and shakes her head.  “Convictionless.”  Gramps always said that was the worst thing a person could be.  Shanks said similar things.  It always amused her that two people so different could be so alike in that respect.

It doesn’t seem so funny now.

“If you went into piracy only to discover it was solely about raping and pillaging, as the Marines would have it, what would you have done?”

Lucy shrugs, giving him a quizzical look.  “Been a pirate?  But a better one.  That doesn’t sound like real pirates to me.”

Rayleigh’s eyes dance behind his glasses and he chuckles.  “Yes, I think you would have.  I think perhaps your grandfather made the same choice a long time ago, and finally ran into the challenge that would leave him either a good Marine or a good man.  I do not know if he fully chose either side.”

Maybe for Gramps, being a Marine is like bearing a pirate flag—it’s a mark of conviction.  An ideal.  A banner to sail under.  A dream, and the constant pursuit of it.

She gets why he can’t betray that, even if she doesn’t understand it.

Still, if someone asked Lucy if she’d give up her dream for Ace, for Zoro, for any of her nakama’s lives, she’d say yes in a heartbeat.  She doesn’t know why Gramps didn’t do the same for Ace when he’s the one who taught her about selflessness and kindness and what it means to love in the first place.

Maybe that’s the issue.  She never expected Gramps to go easy on her or Ace when they set out to sea, never expected him to make excuses for them.  But maybe, somewhere deep down, she thought he’d sacrifice for them the way he always seemed to do for others.

The feeling of betrayal isn’t as sharp now as it was that day in Marineford, not even as sharp as it was a few months ago.  But it’s still there, lingering under the skin.

“Have you ever forgiven someone for something like this?”  She asks, looking up at Rayleigh carefully.

The old man sighs.  “Yes.  And I’ve found forgiveness is not often something one regrets.”  He releases his shoulder, and leans over to pick up his camping gear while Lucy does the same with her own pack.  “It sounds to me like you have a choice, Lucy.  To forgive your grandfather, and one day meet him at ease, or to refrain, and one day spurn him.  I do not know which choice is best.  That’s something you have to decide for yourself.”  Then Rayleigh turns to her, and smiles.  “Bearing a grudge seems very unlike you, however.”

Lucy glances at Rayleigh, and shrugs.  “It usually is.”  It’s one thing that her nakama was always a bit confused about.  Zoro figured it out eventually, especially after the Bellamy thing, but even he didn’t always understand.  She doesn’t usually care when someone insults her, injures her, or anything else.  If someone picks a fight, she ends it.  If they hurt her nakama or her friends, she beats them up.  Then she moves on, and forgets about it unless they come back, or remain a threat.  A grudge usually doesn’t enter the equation.  She’s never really been capable of long-term hate.

But usually the people she loves don’t wrong people they love like this.

“We’ll camp under that ridge tonight,” Rayleigh declares, pointing to a mountainous overhang about three miles away.  Lucy nods, and follows him, still thinking.

He sat with Ace, on the execution platform.  She wonders if that was to comfort him or intimidate him, and she isn’t sure she knows the answer.  A year ago she did, but now…

Lucy doesn’t hate Gramps.  She’s just…sad.  Very sad.  And she doesn’t know if it can be fixed.

But Rayleigh’s right.  She can either forgive, or not.  She can either accept that she, Gramps, and Ace all made choices, a lifetime’s worth of choices, that led them to where they did, or she can’t.  Without Ace, the only remaining family she has outside her nakama is Gramps.  Does she really want to push him away?  Especially since Lucy is all Gramps has now too.  Gramps doesn’t have nakama either.

Okay.  To forgive, or not.  Forgiveness brings acceptance and calm and maybe, in the future, more time with Gramps.  No forgiveness means…

Well.  No forgiveness means nothing more can happen.

Lucy’s not sure if this is one of those things though, where an apology is necessary.  Like with Usopp.

Gramps has never apologized to Lucy in her life.  She doesn’t want him to.  She thinks it would be weird if he did.

“Do you always need an apology to forgive someone?” She asks Rayleigh.

He gives her a surprised look over his shoulder, grey eyes flashing with surprise and maybe a hint of old pain.  “…no.  Sometimes forgiveness is just for you.”

Lucy wonders who Rayleigh had to forgive, but doesn’t even think to ask.

She wants Gramps in her life.  She wanted Ace in her life too.

But, the thing is, she’s accepted Ace’s death.  Accepted it months ago.  And maybe…maybe she doesn’t have to lose her Gramps along with him.

Maybe she can…like, half forgive him.  Yeah.  Like, half now, so she can stop being sad when thinking of him, and stop feeling upset over his choices, and half later, if they meet again and he offers an apology, so she can call him Gramps again and he can ruffle her hair like he used to.

Okay.  This is a good plan.

Lucy waits for forgiveness.

Waits some more.

Lucy frowns.

Truth be told, she’s never had to work so hard at forgiving someone.  She doesn’t usually think it’s necessary.  She either beats someone up and forgets about them or it doesn’t matter enough to bother her.

But maybe it’s something a little more formal than that, this time.

It’s okay, Gramps, she thinks.  He probably can’t hear, but that’s alright for now.  I don’t get why you did it that way, but it’s okay.  I think I understand a little better now.  I forgive you.

And then something like acceptance washes over her, and it feels—

Free.

One day Rayleigh aims a fist at her chest, and in the midst of dodging, she suddenly isn’t present anymore.  She raises a hand to her eye, her left eye, and something is wrong.

The blow slams into her, catches her on the ribs, and her lapse is forgotten.

Somewhere a sea and sky away, red stains green hair and tanned skin and a steel-grey eye closes forever.

Lucy hasn’t been keeping track of the days this month.

(it’s intentional, because she knows which month this is, and—)

So when Rayleigh pulls out a sake bottle and cups and puts them in front of her, she looks up in surprise.

Rayleigh isn’t a drinker—she hasn’t seen him drink at all since meeting him in Shakky’s bar—so it comes as a bit of a shock.  When she looks into his eyes though, there’s a kindly light there that makes her think it’s not purely for recreation this time.

“It’s an anniversary today,” Rayleigh explains.  “It’s been a year since the War.”

Lucy’s stomach drops a little, even as she reaches out to accept the sake cup.  She’s healed since Ace’s death, accepted it, but remembering it like this is still…hard.

But it’s nice of Rayleigh.  Kind of him.  “Thanks,” she tells him, smiling.

Rayleigh pours the liquor into the saucers, and sets it on a stump next to the fire.  Lucy doesn’t recognize the label, so it’s probably not one of the cheap kinds Zoro usually gets. 

“To great pirates,” Rayleigh responds.  They clink the glasses, and each take a sip.  It’s a little warm, but not bad, and the way it runs smoothly down her throat tells her it’s more expensive than anything she’s ever tried before.

“It’s good,” she tells him, meaning it.  Zoro would know better, of course.  Zoro would probably know the exact location it was distilled in and how long ago it was bottled.

“Boa-san left it last time the Kuja pirates left some food for us, upon my request.  I thought a celebration would be in order.”

Lucy grins.  Hancock was not pleased when Rayleigh explained that she wasn’t allowed to be on the island while Lucy trained her Haki, even going so far as to allege Rayleigh had…ulterior motives for wanting solitude on the island.  Lucy trusted him though, and that was enough to get Hancock to back off.  Lucy was grateful because even though she likes Hancock, she doesn’t like Hancock the way Hancock insists she likes Lucy, and she’s glad she doesn’t have to deflect her advances every day.  Lucy can only imagine what Hancock must have said to the request for alcohol.  But, if she forked it over anyway…well that probably means she trusts Rayleigh now, which is good.

Lucy tips the saucer back again.  It reminds her of the last time she shared a cup of sake with someone.  There’s a soft pang of melancholy resonating with the fuzziness in her head as she remembers both of the boys she shared it with are gone.

But she doesn’t want to be sad.  She doesn’t need to be, not anymore.  Ace and Sabo both wanted her to fulfill her dreams, move on to new seas ahead.  They never wanted her to remain hung up on them, never wanted to hold her back.

Rayleigh seems to sense her mood, and asks the one thing that will put a smile on her face every time.  “Tell me about your crew.”

Lucy grins wide.  “They’re the best crew,” she declares, meaning it.  She can’t wait to show them off to Shanks one day.  He’s going to have to agree.  “There’s Sanji, he’s my cook and he likes girls and kicking Zoro.  And there’s Chopper, my doctor, and he likes sweet things and making sure Zoro doesn’t reinjure himself and also swearing.  Robin is my archaeologist, and she’s really smart and funny and she is—was, teaching me to read.” Lucy frowns a little, but assures herself she’ll see them soon—in a year, even, which means they’ve been apart for longer than it will take to reunite.  “Nami is my navigator, and she’s a genius who can predict the weather really well.  Franky is my shipwright, and he’s really smart and doesn’t like pants, and he makes super cool robots and stuff.  Also, he’s a cyborg.”  Lucy grins a little broader at that, remembering people’s usual reaction to Franky.  “Brook is my musician and he’s a skeleton, and he’s really polite and tells a lot of jokes about being undead.  And Usopp is my liar and my sniper.  He’s also really smart and he’s really good at inventing things.”  She swirls the remaining sake around in the saucer, a softer smile crossing her face.  “Zoro is my swordsman, and my first mate.  He’s—he’s cranky and loyal and drinks too much sake and he’s going to be the World’s Greatest Swordsman.”

Rayleigh raises an eyebrow.  “The green-haired kid with the bandages?”

Lucy nods, although her smile fractures a little at the thought of his injures.  She hopes he’s recovered by now.  She doubts he waited to heal before he started training full tilt.

“I don’t like him,” Rayleigh says gruffly, and it’s not his usual tone.  He’s normally so cheerful, it surprises Lucy a bit.

“Really?  I love him,” she tells Rayleigh, and it feels a little strange that she’s confessed that to two people now before the boy in question.  The next person to hear it, she resolves, will be Zoro himself.

“Hmm.”  Rayleigh sips from his own glass, looking more disgruntled than Lucy’s ever seen him before, but somehow still giving off the same air of unflappability that Lucy is so familiar with.  “Two years is a long separation,” he acknowledged.  “Are you nervous about seeing them again?”

Lucy smirks a little and shakes her head.  “Nah.”

“They must have changed.  Including your swordsman.”

“That’s okay.  I have too.”

Rayleigh smiles, agreeing.  “Ah.  That’s true.”

And it is true.  She’s still going to be Pirate King, but…Impel Down, Marineford, Ace’s death…the experience changed her.  It had to.  If it didn’t, Lucy wouldn’t be training with Rayleigh right now.  She’d have gone off with her crew as soon as she could, and challenged the New World as they were.  Her certainty in victory was broken.  Her understanding of what victory takes has changed.

She never wants to lose anyone again.  She refuses to.

She’s sure everyone else has changed, too.  Grown.  That was the point, after all.  She wonders how they’ve changed, though.  She especially wonders how Zoro’s changed.

She’s not worried though.  She knows who Zoro is, she knows who they all are.

“We’ll meet soon enough,” Lucy decides, tipping the saucer back to finish the cup.  “And we’ll fit together like we always did, and sail on to new seas ahead.”

Something about Rayleigh seems rather chagrined, but when he smiles there’s pride in his eyes regardless.  “Aye, I think you will.”

Once, when Zoro was small, he punched another boy in the face.

The other boy was from a wealthy family in the village, and everyone knew who he was.  They fawned over his blonde hair and his cherubic cheeks soft with baby fat.  His name was Daiki.

Zoro was an orphan, living on the streets at the time, and everyone knew who he was.  They greeted him and his odd (foreign) coloring with a mix of irritation, disgust, indifference, and sometimes pity.  His name was Roronoa.

Zoro and Daiki were the same age.  Daiki had everything, and Zoro nothing.

The only time Zoro ever interacted with him though, was the day Daiki stole Zoro’s apple.  The old woman with the apple cart sometimes gave him the half-rotten ones she couldn’t sell, and it was the only food Zoro managed to scrounge in the previous day and a half.  Daiki, having wandered away from his parents and being a rather sheltered only child, saw Zoro’s apple, decided he was hungry, and shouted “gimme that!”

Zoro, completely unamused, responded with a disgusted, “Why would I do that?”

Daiki, having had the advantage of proper nutrition, was much larger than Zoro, and pounced on him.  Zoro, too weak to get him off, was pinned under the other boy.  In the struggle, Daiki managed to wrest the apple out of Zoro’s hand, and got off of him, uninterested in anything but the newly-acquired fruit.

Zoro scrambled up to his feet quickly, and latched onto Daiki’s arm, trying to shake the apple loose.  “Give that back!”

Daiki, having realized the apple was nearly inedible, ignored him and shouted, “Ew!  It’s rotten!”

Then he threw the apple in a manure pile.

That’s when Zoro punched him.

He got a few good hits in too, before Daiki’s parents showed up and pulled Zoro, half out of his mind and snarling, off their kid.

“Honestly, what do you have to say for yourself?” Daiki’s father raged at Zoro.  “Why would you attack someone like that?”

“He—!” Zoro protested, seething.

“Don’t bother, Hideo,” one of the village women inserted.  She had sharp, bulging eyes that made Zoro feel like she could see inside him, and her skin was lined and translucent with age, her hair the color of steel.  Despite her years she carried herself with rigid posture, a subtle hint of authority.  It was said among the children that she knew all there was to know.  “Some children are just born under bad stars.  It’s their fate to have darkness live inside them.  That is why they are alone.  That is why we give them the no-name.”

Roronoa.  The no-one name.  A no-one child.  Rejected.  One apart.  One alone.

Hideo sighed, and agreed.  “I understand, Madam Chiyo.”  Then he glared at Zoro.  “Don’t attack my son again.”

Then the villagers left, Daiki crying into his mother’s skirts, and Zoro still in the street.  He saw Madam Chiyo’s flinty, judgmental face every night for weeks after the incident.

That was the first time, to Zoro’s recollection, that someone told him people could be born bad.  Zoro always believed he was one of them.  Ever since that day in the market, he was always, always aware of a creeping blackness inside him, wrapped around his heart too firmly to dislodge or escape.  He thought he could feel it sometimes, writhing under his skin.

His behavior reflected it, too.  He had a temper, and never had an issue using violence to solve his problems.  He was forever going just a step too far, acting a bit too aggressively, and people noticed.  He didn’t even realize that was unusual until one day when Sensei sat him down to explain that honor is more about restraint than satisfaction.  As he got older, the impulses grew hotter, harder to control.  Bloodlust, Sensei always said, would forever be Zoro’s greatest enemy.  Sensei advised constant control over himself, to let his mind rule, and not his heart.

As Zoro went out into the world more, he realized why Sensei was always so concerned with his self-restraint, why he drilled it into Zoro from the moment he set foot in the dojo.

Zoro wasn’t necessarily a bad person, didn’t go out of his way to harm people…but he wasn’t good, either.  He often went farther than others deemed necessary, when working as a bounty hunter.  He would sever the limbs of thieves trying to shoot an innocent, or kill a rapist that fought back.  It wasn’t that Zoro did these things meaninglessly, or took pleasure in killing, it was just—those people were worth less than the ones they were trying to hurt.  He never felt any guilt over it.  Not even the first time.

Most civilians, Zoro found, were not like him.  They had an invisible moral code that didn’t make much sense to Zoro, too contradictory and weak, and sometimes he crossed their boundaries.  Even other bounty hunters didn’t enjoy the thrill of the fight, enjoy hurting as much as Zoro did.  It was part of why he never stayed in one place for long.

He heard once that good men need no rules, and Zoro figures that’s probably true.  Zoro has a lot of them, stemming from the mandate Sensei once gave him, to “live honorably, however that may be.”

Zoro figures Madam Chiyo was probably right about him—he was born with something dark inside.  Sensei taught him how to control it though.

And the thing is, Zoro is used to thinking of himself this way.  Not evil, probably, but definitely not good, either.  He’s not like Chopper, or even the stupid cook.  He lives somewhere in the shades of grey, and he’s pretty fine with that.  So long as he controls his inner darkness, nothing he regrets later will happen.

But when he started travelling the Grand Line with Lucy, he discovered something.

Darkness is useful.

At least, Zoro’s can be.

He first started realizing other people could sense his bloodlust somewhere around Skypiea.  It was an unintentional intimidation tactic, and helped him win against that priest.  Then came Enies Lobby, and the discovery of Asura.

To be honest, he’s still not exactly sure how it works.  Just that it feeds off of his own bloodlust and fury, and that it takes commitment because it hurts.

But it uses his own inner darkness, that part of himself which is cold and cruel and which even Lucy can’t quite penetrate.  The part where aggression and violence and all those lesser emotions live, and which Zoro has kept tightly sealed his whole life.  And the thing is, it works.  Asura is a powerful technique that increases his ability three-fold.  How can he not question the idea that it should never be touched?

And now he’s considering a technique that would probably make Sensei’s head spin if he heard about it.  This idea…it’s playing with fire, in a way he usually doesn’t.

It’s inspired, actually, by what Mihawk told him about Conqueror’s Haki.  How it’s an intimidation tactic.  How it can harmlessly take out enemies too weak to ever put up a fight.

Zoro already knows how to use his aura to project his bloodlust, to warn opponents or rile them, depending on his goals.  What if he could do the same thing, just…amplify it?

One day, he tries it.  He’s cornered by an ape who’s being a pest, but who isn’t really a threat to Zoro.  Not anymore.  While preoccupied with a more skilled opponent, Zoro takes a deep breath and—

He pictures Lucy’s face in that newspaper, kneeling before Ace’s corpse—what her screams must have sounded like.  He holds it in his mind while he lets the darkness build and grow until bloodlust tingles in his fingers and nearly makes his movements erratic with anticipation for revenge.  He scrapes his heart for even the desire to shed blood, to cause pain, until it goes beyond Lucy’s agony, or his rage on her behalf, until it’s just him channeling every last shred of darkness Zoro has ever possessed.

Then he pushes, right into his aura, and amplifies it by Kitetsu’s howls, and—

Four of the apes around him whimper in terror, and the three on his level rear back in shock.  The weaker ones lock up, paralyzed, and the stronger ones warily close ranks between them and Zoro, defensive.  Zoro uses the opportunity to surprise them, sweeping under their feet with his heel, followed by Kitetsu.  They go down easily, all seven of them.

Behind him, Mihawk shifts.  “That was not Conqueror’s Haki.”

Zoro slides his katana home.  “No,” he agrees breathlessly.  He’s a little surprised it worked so well.

“…such a technique is difficult to control.”

Yes, it is.  But Zoro’s been doing it his whole life.  “Yeah.”

Mihawk walks away without another word.  Zoro stands in his circle of carnage, and surveys the damage.

Maybe this is why he has so much trouble admitting what he feels for Lucy.  This, right here, with Zoro standing among seven bodies cut down almost entirely by his own inner darkness, and that because he’s the type of person willing to tap into that well inside him and channel it.  Maybe it’s this that holds him back—that reminds him quietly, when he thinks of Lucy, that he’s an animal deep down, a creature of baser instincts, with no mercy at his core.  That although she isn’t perfectly good, she’s certainly not bad.  She has faults, sure—she can be selfish and childish and irreverent and careless—but she doesn’t have this inside.  There’s no black hole in Lucy, no void, and some part of him that’s still five years old and hungry in the streets and feeling something bad crawl under his skin doesn’t want to change that about her.

His name is Roronoa.  It means alone.  And now he’s found friends, and a person he cares about more than his own dreams or life or anything else.  But the thing is, Zoro has always, always been alone, and he doesn’t know what to do with his darkness now that he isn’t anymore.

Kuraigana’s thick-limbed trees and waxy leaves groan heavily in the wind, and provide no absolution.

Chapter Text

Zoro checks the date on the newspaper three times before going to Mihawk’s liquor cabinet and pulling out three large bottles of sake.  He fumbles it a bit, but nothing breaks.  His depth perception is still off because he lost an eye last month, and while it doesn’t bother him when he’s training or fighting because his Observation Haki is fully engaged, he still hasn’t mastered casual motion.

Losing the eye didn’t bother him much.  Becoming clumsy is way more irritating.

It’s late, later than he’d normally be up.  But Zoro doesn’t want anyone around for this, doesn’t want to talk to either Mihawk or Perona at the moment.

A year ago today, Lucy told them all to get stronger.  Now it’s been a year, and there’s still a year to go.

If his nakama were here, at least one of them would make a joke about Zoro not losing any other body parts between now and then.  Shitty cook would definitely be one of them.  Nami, probably.  Usopp, if he was in the mood.  Lucy would take pity on him while she laughed with the others.

Tonight is one part sadness and one part reluctant joy.  From here on out, the days until he sees his nakama again will never outnumber the days he’s spent apart from them.

He wonders, like he often does when not thinking about his training or how to steal more of Mihawk’s booze, how they’re doing.  He assumes well, if Lucy was confident enough to postpone their reunion like she did.  He assumes they’re doing the same as him—getting strong enough to never hear news on their captain through a newspaper again.

Zoro assumes that the others, upon receiving the news about Ace, were probably equally as shocked, and horrified for Lucy.  He bets they were all mind-numbingly worried about her.  Zoro’s reasonably certain Nami probably took over whatever country she was in at the time with protective rage alone, manipulating everyone there to suit her needs.

He smirks, and tips the first bottle of sake back across his lips.  He has a hunch that everyone will have some pretty interesting stories to tell when they meet up again.  Zoro will, of course, censor Mihawk out of his tale.  His nakama would all understand what it meant for Zoro to do something like that.  He doesn’t regret it—can’t, really, when he’s learned so much and still has a year to go—but it would be admitting just a bit too much.  More importantly, Lucy would understand that he prioritized her over his own dreams, and she would feel horribly guilty about it.

Zoro doesn’t want her to feel guilty about it.  Lucy is the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He supposes, though, that if in some hypothetical universe she agreed to ask Rayleigh about the One Piece to further Zoro’s ambitions, he would be pretty upset as well.

It doesn’t matter much, anyway.  He’s not going to tell anyone who he’s been training under.

The first bottle of sake runs dry.  Zoro has an intensely high tolerance for alcohol, even the good stuff Mihawk buys, and so despite there being more than enough in the bottle to inebriate a person Lucy’s size to the point of incapacitation, he just feels the beginnings of a buzz.  He cracks open the second bottle.

Mihawk is going to be mad at him tomorrow.  Zoro does not give a shit, and will probably still think it’s worth it when falling off a cliff or whatever insane training Mihawk decides to come up with as punishment.

It’s felt like the longest and the shortest year of his life.  Longing makes the days stretch.  Training makes time pass quickly, as the clock outpaces his growth.  What scares him most, maybe, is how much he’s gotten used to it, and used to the lack of bedlam around him.  He’s at a point where he’s…comfortable, here.  Even finds it relaxing, to some extent, when Perona isn’t bothering him.  He enjoys himself, like he’s sure his nakama are, and it’s not that he’s guilty about that anymore, it’s just…

…what if they don’t want to come back?

It’s a stupid though.  No one on the crew would ever dream of abandoning Lucy or each other like that.  But…things change.  It’s not that he doubts his nakama, it’s just…people change.  They grow and become better.  Zoro knows it’s happening to him.  It’s not so unreasonable to think one of his nakama would grow apart from them either.

He’s pretty sure the shitty cook wouldn’t come back, if he somehow ended up on some crazy island full of women.  The others…well, he’s not sure what their tipping points would be.  Everyone loves Lucy so deeply he doubts there would be much sway.  Sanji is the easiest to distract, besides Lucy, but even he wouldn’t easily leave them behind.

Zoro wants them back.  Zoro wants them back so badly he feels like he’s suffocating sometimes.

He’s not sure when this happened.  He used to be a loner, for Christs’ sake.  Then Lucy came along.

He would feel absurd about it if both Usopp and Nami hadn’t independently mentioned doing the exact same thing, but he’s started to segment his life into a “before Lucy” and “after Lucy” timeline.  It’s hard not to, given how many changes she’s wrought within him.

Zoro’s been dreaming about her every night for months now.  Sometimes it’s horrific—images of Lucy dying on the battlefield are popular—and sometimes it’s not.  Sometimes it’s…well, good.  They’d be better if they didn’t make him feel like the pervy cook though.

He thinks about how she smiles, how she always has a second grin tucked in the corners of her mouth.  How he wants, very much, to kiss her and pull her hips to his and—

Zoro sucks down the last of the bottle, cutting himself off.  This…isn’t helping.  He’s just tormenting himself.

He just…misses her.  Misses them.  And he’s afraid that—that—

He’s afraid he needs Lucy more than she ever needed him.  It surely can’t be possible that she would feel this way about him, this…ache that never goes away, or the knowledge that simply standing beside her would...complete him in this infinite, indescribable way.  It’s not like Lucy to need someone so terribly.  It’s not like him, either, but Lucy is the perpetual exception to everything in his life.

The third bottle is gone before he starts to black out, and he finds a fourth one open in the morning.

There’s a place in Kuraigana that Zoro likes to go to, when he’s been banned from training for the day.  Neither Mihawk nor Perona ever bother him, and it’s on a cliff by the sea.  Zoro goes there to meditate, especially when he wants to be alone.  As Zoro settles on a black basalt boulder resting precariously above the waves, he thinks it’s good they’ve never seen the view, or the pests would never leave.

The ocean spreads before him, here.  Close to the island it looks as dark and murky as Kuraigana herself, but a few kilometers out it sparkles the radiant blue of the Grand Line.  Kuma pushed him, apparently, almost the whole way back to the Reverse Mountain.  Getting back to Sabaody in a few months is going to be a bitch.  He’s considered stopping by Crocus and Laboon, actually, to get an update on the whale for Brook, but figures it isn’t his place.

Zoro settles into a lotus position, and lays his katana across his lap.  Normally he starts a meditation session by cleaning them, or repairing nicks in the metal, but Armament Haki makes the latter unnecessary, and he always cleans them after use, anyway.

They’re still…louder, than they used to be, and they clamor for…something.  Zoro’s not sure what, exactly.  Zoro thought he might just be imagining it, that they aren’t any different and he’s just being ridiculous, but there’s simply no way he could have used Kitetsu like this when he first found the katana.  They’ve been like this since Thriller Bark.  Even Wado rings at a higher, more insistent tone than she used to.  It’s disorienting, sometimes, but usually it’s not a distraction during training—just like him, they seem to take pleasure in the exertion.

He has…a few theories as to why his katana are like this.  He isn’t sure how crazy any of them are, and he certainly hasn’t mentioned it to Mihawk.

It’s funny, but, Zoro thought the way he feels about Lucy would become both less confusing and easier to deal with over time.  He thought the feelings might even fade without her presence every day, without her constant chatter and incessant touching and laughter.  As it turns out, that is not the case.  It just got worse.

It didn’t help anything that his feelings for Lucy were tied up in his memories of Thriller Bark and Sabaody.  Frustration toward himself and the world in general made it hard to think of himself as being…suited to her.  Confusion over that, and his inexperience at dealing with low self-confidence, make it hard to sort anything out.  Above all, the ache of longing inside him is so strong and present that it warps almost everything else he feels toward her. 

Zoro expected that the separation would actually help him figure out what he feels for her, help him understand what he wants.  But instead of offering clarity there’s just this hollowness and uncertainty inside when he thinks of it, accompanying the ache of longing.

When he allows himself to think of her, though, there’s fondness and awe and amusement and need—physical and emotional—that sometimes threatens to swallow him whole.  She’s the first thing he thinks of when he wakes and the last thing he sees before falling asleep is an image of her face.  He dreams of things that leave him frustrated in the morning, and sometimes he can’t get the memory of how she felt in his arms on Skypiea out of his head, or any other occasion where he’s held her close.  The feel of her skin sliding under his is a brand to his senses and occasionally wind will come off the ocean and it smells just like—

He’s tired of fighting what he feels.

And today, now that he finally, finally beat that monkey with Hawk Eye’s sword, he can start to allow himself to think he’s strong again.

He still has a long way to go.  There’s still ten months to go before he is supposed to meet Lucy in Sabaody, and beating the humandrill is not the same as beating Mihawk.  The top is still a peak away.

But he could have held his own at Thriller Bark, now.  He could stop Kizaru’s attack, could deal his own.

It’s not enough—Sabaody taught him that there’s never a point where he has enough strength, that he must always strive for greater heights—but it does…quell, something that has howled inside him for well over a year now.  And maybe, with that wound stitched and healed, he can finally start to consider the girl that led him here.

He loves her.

He loves her.

It’s at once an epiphany like a sunrise and an easy reckoning, like the soft gasp of wind on the ocean.  He has always known, deep down, that what he feels for her goes beyond loyalty or desire or friendship.  Those things are there, but it’s more than that, so much more.  And yet, despite knowing that, it’s still a shock to him that he’s even capable of such feeling, that he, a person often called a demon and who mostly agrees with the label, should ever find someone that could make him feel like this.

He loves her.

He loves her.

The relief at admitting it makes him nearly lightheaded.

Kitetsu’s howls crack sharply across his mind and he puts a hand on the blade’s hilt, hoping to quell it.  To his surprise, the howling ceases, mellowing back into his mind as it usually does.

“What, you jealous of her or something?”  Zoro mumbles to the sword, sliding his thumb across the tightly bound cord.

All three of his swords have a response to that—sharp and reproving.  Then they sink back into harmony, quieter than they’ve been in…well, actually, it might be since Sabaody.

They react to his emotional state, he’s realized.  Not often enough that there was any sort of consistency to it, but they seem oddly focused on Lucy.  He supposes that could be why they’ve been so disgruntled for the past year or so.  Zoro has not been at his happiest.

Wado Ichimonji, Shusui, and Sandai Kitetsu.  Mind, body, soul.

“I’m better, now.” He informs them.  He thinks of chocolate colored eyes and laughing freckles and a straw hat set over a mess of black hair.  He thinks of a girl who can save countries with her fists if only she’s willing to shed a little blood, and who deposed a god because he pissed her off.  He thinks of a girl who can’t help pushing people around her to comedic extremes of emotion, who drives him crazy half the time and doesn’t listen and is brilliant, bold, and infuriating.  He thinks of soft nights when the ocean is still and a girl who sits on the figurehead of her ship for hours, unmoving and silent before the moon and stars, her breath blooming against his collarbone.

He loves that girl.  There’s no universe he can imagine where he doesn’t.  Zoro often feels Lucy carved a hole in his chest, a space reserved for her and no one else, and which is irrevocable, unchangeable.  She has made him into a new person, altered him forever, and he knows there will never be a moment where he goes back to the way he used to be.  It’s why he couldn’t let her die on Thriller Bark.  It’s why he refused to consider how he felt about her after Thriller Bark.  It’s why it took so long to admit it.

He wasn’t strong enough.  He’s still not strong enough.  He has to protect her, has to be so strong no one can ever rip her away again, or he’ll never be able to breathe when he next sees her.  And even then, he doesn’t know if she feels…similarly, to him.  When they meet…there’s no guarantee her feelings for him will be there too.

Besides, she may have no interest in such relationships.  He has no idea how she’s healed from the trauma of the war, or if she has at all.  He doesn’t know how she’s dealt with Ace’s death.

It’s selfish, isn’t it?  To want her regardless?

Lucy is selfish enough for the both of them.  If he decides to be as well, then they’re really screwed.

Still…part of him wants to just tell her.  It’s the same reckless part that made him want to pin her against the Sunny’s mast when they sparred, that always knew exactly how he felt about her, that recognized her as his without any true claim to the girl’s affections, that heard an ultimatum and agreed and promised his dream to hers.  That part of him wants to tell her the moment they meet again.

The much larger, more reserved part of him cautions him to wait.  He wants to see how Lucy is first, before he makes decision.  He doesn’t want to burden her if she doesn’t share his feelings, or if she hasn’t yet recovered from Ace’s death.  He wants to hold her, feel her heartbeat beneath his hands, rediscover that strange connection that lets them know exactly what the other is thinking or feeling.

God, he wants to hold her.

If he thought admitting he loves her would make it easier to be apart, he was mistaken.  Sure, the tension there is gone.  It’s replaced with acceptance and warmth, and maybe a little giddy disbelief.  But now the ache of their separation just feels sweeter, darker, more forlorn, consuming.

The dark sea below him laughs and churns, unsympathetic.

The next day, Mihawk glances at him a second too long as Zoro fends off hordes of Humandrills.  For Hawk Eyes, this is the equivalent of staring with his mouth open.

“What?” He demands, next time he gets a break.

“…something is different today.”  Mihawk intones lowly.  It’s a question in a statement.

And it’s weird, but, for the last fourteen months Zoro has been fighting with an edge of desperation that he just…doesn’t feel today.  Today his determination is stronger, his focus greater, his mind settled.  He moves with a certain…ease he hasn’t experienced in a while, and his katana hum in easy harmony.

He’s aware of why, of course.  Lucy.  He’s in love with her, and he finally admitted it.

The thought of her brings a certain…he doesn’t want to say giddiness because it’s too damn sappy, but…there’s a thrill in his chest when he thinks of her that’s been missing for a while.  A sharp, desperate ache, too, but an undeniable thrill.

Zoro looks at Mihawk and shrugs.

Mihawk says nothing, but his gaze becomes more calculating.  Zoro doesn’t back away from it just glares him down.  The older man is undaunted, but doesn’t ask any more questions.  Instead he turns away, sipping a glass of wine, and tosses one last remark over his shoulder.

“You’ll be able to keep up with her now.”

For one horribly confusing moment, Zoro thinks he’s talking about Kuina.

Then he realizes it’s not Kuina but Lucy, and how, exactly, did he know?

…well it’s not like Zoro ever prided himself on subtlety anyway.

“Save me, Lucy!”

But Lucy has dreamt this enough to recognize it for what it is—a nightmare, not reality.  Ace never begged her to save him.  Ace was strong, always strong, and he only ever asked her to live.

“I can’t, Ace.  You’re gone,” she tells the dream.  She still feels the terror of the moment, the way she felt at the time, but it has no hold on her anymore, and she can lay this demon to rest.

The admiral looks at Lucy with ice in his eyes.  Carelessly, he shoves Ace to the ground and magma flows over his back.  Ace doesn’t scream though.  Not even her nightmares can picture such a capitulation.

The admiral looms over Lucy, and she stares him down, undaunted.  He can do nothing worse to her than he has already.

The man smirks, his eyes fracturing in madness, and his left arm shoots to the side.  Lucy follows the movement just in time to see—

Zoro.

No.

Nononononononono!

Zoro is hunched over at the waist, the admiral’s magma fist speared through him.  He’s leaning over and clearly resisting the impulse to just grab the arm, yank it out, but he can’t do so and keep his hands.

Lucy sprints over to him unthinking and heedless of danger because—because—

It’s not real.  Zoro wasn’t at—Zoro didn’t die in Marineford.  Zoro wasn’t there.

Thank God.

Lucy starts awake, and finds herself on Ruskaina once more.

A dream.  It was only a dream.

That was…new.  She’s never substituted anyone in Ace’s death before.

Lucy relaxes into her blanket and exhales slowly.  Ruskaina is in one of its moody seasons, as Rayleigh calls them, where it’s really hot during the day and chilly at night, but somehow always humid.  She’s cold without the blanket, but she’s also sweating.  It’s weird.

The stars are out tonight though, and they twinkle cheerfully at her from the inky velvet of the sky.  The moon hangs swollen above her, full to the brim with gentle light.  Lucy wonders if any of her crewmembers are looking at it right now.

She misses them.

It gets both easier and harder the more time that passes.  For one thing, she’s getting closer—much closer—to seeing them all again.  Only nine months to go now, and it hasn’t felt like long at all.  And as time passes and she sees the fruits of her labor, sees herself growing stronger every day, Lucy knows without a doubt that she made the right decision.  She’ll be able to protect them now for sure.

But on the other hand…well, she misses them.

It’s different from the way she misses Ace.  In some ways that is easier to deal with because his fate was so…definitive.  She knows she will never see him again, and the way she misses him is sort of wistful and melancholy.  She still thinks about him every day, and every time she gets that little bit stronger a voice in her head wonders whether it would have been enough to save him.  That hurts, of course, but there’s a rigidity to it.  She’s grown used to it.  Her nakama…well she’s sure they’re all alright, and that they’re out there getting stronger, just like her.  But that knowledge pulls at something in Lucy, something visceral and deep.  It’s an active kind of missing.  It aches in an open, weeping way that missing Ace does not.

It’s a great deal worse when it comes to Zoro.

Lucy’s secretly afraid she can’t remember what his laugh sounds like.  His real one, not the one he uses when he snickers at Sanji or makes fun of her.

(She’s not sure she can remember that either.)

She thinks about him all the time.  Can’t seem to get him out of her head.  On better nights she dreams of him, and wonders what he’s learned and how he’s changed.  She wonders if he still smells the same.

Missing Zoro feels like missing a limb.  She can’t stop looking around for him sometimes, to tell him a joke or challenge him to a race of some kind, or see his reaction to something, or grab his hand, only to realize for the thousandth time that he isn’t on the island, and never has been.

It hurts all over again when that happens.

As she expected, the worst part of this whole separation is the things left unsaid.  She’s going to have to tell him she loves him first thing when she sees him.  Just walk up to him and say it.

It’s a bit nerve wracking to consider.  She doesn’t know exactly how he felt about her back then.  She might have misread things, or conflated them in her memory.  He might not feel the same when they see each other again.

Lucy frowns.  At this point, she’s not sure it matters.  She’d rather tell him than keep it to herself, at any rate.  She rubs her thumb across her scarred palm, counting the many things she wants to tell Zoro, how she wants to share all her adventures with him while they go have more.  She huddles under the blankets and lets thoughts of him, meld with the rhythm of the tide until she’s lulled gently to sleep.

She dreams of sun and sea and laughter, a pair of calloused hands settled on her hips and a broad chest behind her.

“You’re leaving?”

Rayleigh doesn’t look up from his careful packing.  “This afternoon, actually.  After lunch.”

If there’s one thing Lucy can appreciate about Rayleigh, it is that he has a healthy respect for food.

“But, the training—”

“Oh, I’ve taught you the basics,” Rayleigh tells her easily.  “The rest is up to you.”

Lucy is…very skeptical about that.  “But—”

“Haki is something that only grows with experience,” Rayleigh counters, and he turns to her and smiles.  “If I’m here, you’ll never grow further, and the next few months would be a waste.”

And that was unacceptable.  That made her separation from her crew worthless, and that…she can’t deal with that.

“I don’t think I’m that good though.  My Observation Haki…”

“Will grow with time.  You’ve gotten to the point where you understand your own shortcomings, and you know what you must do to improve on them.  That is all I can teach you.”

And that’s a good thing, isn’t it?  It means she’s grown.  It means, thus far, she’s been successful.  That she has six months until her reunion with the most important people in the world, and she has six months to get strong enough to protect them, always.

She’s going to miss him though.  Rayleigh is…Rayleigh is Rayleigh.  She doesn’t have a better word for him than that.  He’s taught her and was there for her in a way no one outside of her nakama has ever been before. 

(And she hates when people leave.)

“You’ve taught me a lot,” she tells him, oddly shy.  “Thank you.”

“Ah, my dear Lucy,” Rayleigh responds warmly, eyes crinkling.  “It was nothing at all.”

It’s been three months since Rayleigh left, and Lucy is alone.

(Lucy’s never been alone.  Not like this.)

She trains, mostly, using her Observation Haki to track and subdue the most powerful beasts on the island.  There’s still a few she has to fight before she can impose her Conqueror’s Haki on them, and every time she comes away stronger, muscles trembling in exertion and lungs gasping for air, but a smile on her face.

Training feels good.  Winning feels good, and hard-won battles feel like growth, and grasping her dreams with two bloody fists.

Lucy talks to no one except the animals that endear themselves to her out of fear.  Lucy doesn’t hunt them, because she’s made friends with them and she hopes they’ll stop looking at her like she’s going to eat them before she leaves.  She’d rather they follow her because they like her.  They don’t seem to be warming up to her anytime soon, though.

It’s lonely.  The loneliest she’s ever been.

She gets through it by having adventures, and imagining what her nakama would say, how they’d react to the funny orange fruit she discovered or the time she rode a giant bird so high Ruskaina disappeared into the blue of the sea, and she thought she could see the tempestuous waters of the Grand Line in the distance.

She can’t cook meat without thinking of Sanji.  She can’t pass the ruins without thinking of Robin.  Lucy wonders, sometimes, if she could take a picture of it for the archaeologist to see.

Lucy has banned herself from sleeping under the safe tree.  If she doesn’t have to keep a watch out using her Observation Haki, she thinks too much to rest.

Her nightmares get worse, with Rayleigh gone.  They aren’t simple memories now, just dreams surrounding images of her crew screaming, bleeding, dying in Ace’s place, dying a thousand different ways.  Robin is dragged beyond the Gates of Justice, Usopp collapses in Alabasta and never comes back in Water 7, Brook runs away across the waves and Zoro—

Zoro dies every night in her dreams, by Mihawk’s hands, by Akainu’s, in Thriller Bark—

Thriller Bark is the worst, maybe, because those memories are so real, and she knows how close it was.

She thinks about her nakama constantly, even as she conquers the island and its inhabitants.  Zoro, however, never leaves her mind.

It’s funny.  By now she’s spent much longer apart from her crew than she ever spent with them, and still they feel…lodged in her heart, permanent and unmovable.  Zoro, especially, feels like the constant whole and sum of her heart, present and heavy and so tangible she can almost feel him even separated as they are.

It’s almost scary how much she loves him.  It would be if she hadn’t embraced it so completely. 

The longing grows both more intense and easier to bear, as the days to their reunion count down.  She’s so eager for it she can’t breathe sometimes.  She’s so nervous and elated at the prospect that she gets butterflies in her stomach.

Her nightly ritual—counting her nakama on her fingers in the firelight, and falling asleep imaging Zoro’s arms around her, his chest pressed against her back—gets more complicated.  She holds one-sided, whispered conversations with him, imagining his responses, the way his eyes would crinkle when he laughed, the way his body would curve against hers.

“I miss you,” she tells him every night. “I love you.”

There’s no one there to hear but the animals, and she can’t tell if it helps or hurts sometimes.

It’s weird, collecting his stuff from his room after two years.  He doesn’t have much—just an extra change of clothes, a t-shirt, and his katana—and yet without those things draped over the nearest available chair by the door, the room looks weirdly barren.

“C’mon, Cranky Pants,” Perona greets from the doorway.  “We better get going.”

Zoro nods, and hefts the small pack with his clothes over his shoulder.  “Yeah.”

He and Mihawk already said goodbye yesterday.  Or rather, Zoro said “see ya,” and Mihawk went on a long and pretentious rant about how he has to grow yet stronger to kill him, and if they meet again before he’s ready that Mihawk will show no mercy.

It’s about what he expected from Mihawk, to be honest.

With one last glance around his room—it’s still weird, calling it that—Zoro turns and follows Perona out of the castle.

She’s quiet, for once, maybe sensing that he doesn’t want to talk and being respectful of it.

Then they get to the courtyard, and suddenly his moment of respite is over.

“Aren’t you afraid they’ve changed?”

Zoro is too busy eyeing the scenery—and the tree line for Humandrills—to really register the question.  “Huh?”

Perona crosses her arms and huffs, but for once she isn’t floating.  There’s a range, apparently, for how far her hollows can travel from her body, and Kuraigana to Sabaody is pushing it.  “You know.  Changed.  Two years is a long time.”

And, yeah, it is, but there are some things even time can’t touch.  “They better have changed, or the last two years won’t mean much.”

Perona rolls her eyes, and there’s a moment of hesitation before she asks the next question.  “What about Lucy?”

Zoro starts veering to the left, back out toward the forest.  “Eh?  What about her?”

Perona huffs and yanks his arm back toward her.  “Honestly,” she grouses, and then her expression clears a bit.  “Aren’t you afraid the girl you love will be different than you remember?”

Zoro flushes, not expecting the frankness.  “I told you, stop saying that!”

He never told Perona that he admitted that to himself, but she somehow figured it out anyway.

Perona ignores the request though, and claps her hands as her voice screeches up into a register only dogs can hear.  “You’re so cute and dopey when you think about her!”

“Fuck off!” He splutters.  He is not cute.  At all.  He’s not her freaking bear thing.

Perona does that thing where she gets all offended for no discernable reason.  “Why you ungrateful little swordsman! You didn’t even answer my question!”

Zoro avoids a boulder.  He’s fairly certain he’s the one that put it there, after fighting with the Mihawk-Humandrill that one time.  “What was that?”

The ghost girl huffs.  “Aren’t you afraid she’s different?”

“Nah.”

Perona raises an eyebrow.  “You don’t think she’s changed?”

“I’m sure she has.”  And he wonders in what ways she’s changed, what ways she’s different, and he wants to find out.

“But you’re not worried you two won’t get along anymore?”

Stupid question.  “Why would I be?”

Perona’s fists whirl through the air out of sheer frustration.  “Because you two are different now than you were before!  Jeez, are you dumber than rocks, or what?”

“Fuck off!”

“Just answer the question, dammit.”

Zoro sighs, resigned.  He’s about to have like three weeks of constant exposure to this girl because it will simply take that long to get to Sabaody.  “Lucy’s like me.”

“Huh?”

It’s weird, but this isn’t something he’s ever had to explain before.  “Lucy lives for her dream.  It defines her.  As long as she’s heading towards Pirate King, I know who she is.”

Perona doesn’t say anything for a moment, which is just plain unusual.  He stops, looking at her exasperatedly, and then she flings herself at him, wrapping arms and legs around his waist.  “You’re so cute!”

Zoro splutters and pushes her off.  “I can’t wait to be rid of you for good.”

Perona pouts, irritated.  “Like you’d even find the island if I wasn’t going to lead you there!”

“I’d find it fine if people could give decent directions!”

This proves too much for the girl, and she seems to grow three times her size as her temper lifts her when she screams, “YOU’RE THE PROBLEM, MORON.”

…Yeah, it’s going to be a long trip back.

“Luuuuuccyyy-chaaaaaaaaaaannn!!”

It’s been two years since she heard that voice, but there’s only one person who calls her that name with that particular tone.

“Hancock!”  Lucy greets, turning toward the sea.  Sure enough, the Kuja Pirates’ familiar ship approaches, the sea kings attached to the hull swaying gracefully above the waves.  Thirty Amazonians wave at her from the deck.

Lucy grins and waves back.

She’s leaving Ruskaina, for the first time in two years.  It’s the longest she ever wants to stay in one place, and the longest she ever wants to go without human interaction again.  It’s the longest she wants to be apart from her crew, ever.  She’s not sure she’ll be able to let them out of her sight once they meet up again in the first place, and that goes for certain green-haired boys with swords especially.

It takes a week to get to Sabaody from here, and she’s already nervous in a terribly giddy sort of way.  She can’t wait.  She wants to see them now.  Two years she’s waited, but the next week seems unbearable.

The Kuja pirates already have a raft in the water, ready to come pick her up.  Lucy can see Hancock in the front, as well as Margarite and Gloriosa.  Lucy turns the hat in her hand, flipping it between her fingers.  She’s missed this hat, even though it was her own choice to take it off.  It doesn’t feel right to put it on now, though.  Not on this island.  Ruskaina is her place of growth, of training, of healing and longing.  It was purgatory, in one way, and recovery from the crucible of Marineford in another.  It’s not a place where she can wear this hat, not when it carries every promise she’s ever made in its weave and Ruskaina saw her weakness and burned it from her.

She’s ready, very ready, to leave.  But she won’t deny the place has grown on her a bit.  She likes its unpredictability.

“Lucy-chan!” Hancock sings.  Gloriosa gives her an exasperated look while Margarite tries to compensate for the way the Pirate Empress wriggles in the boat.  “Lucy-san, we brought food!”

Hancock sure does know how to get Lucy’s attention.  Lucy loves meat, but she could use some meat variety here after two straight years of jungle beast.  She’s literally had dreams about Sanji’s pork chops that made her cry.

“Thanks, Hancock!” Lucy responds.  The little boat is approaching an outcropping on the island, which is deep enough at mid-tide to avoid the rocky shoals below.

Lucy turns to the island one last time, spotting the animals she tamed as they peek between the massive tree trunks.  She can feel a dozen of the apex predators on the island watching as well, wary of her and the other humans.

Actually, Lucy supposes she’s the apex predator now.

Lucy’s going to miss this island, in a weird sort of way.  She likes the unpredictability of it, likes how she never knows what’s going to happen the next morning, and two years went by faster than she ever thought it would.

But Lucy is so, so ready to leave.

She turns to the white tree that provided safe harbor to her so many nights when she was sick or injured, and couldn’t protect herself, and she smiles.  “Thank you for making me stronger.”

The island says nothing in response, but there’s a strange sort of shift in the air that makes Lucy think something heard her anyway.

But that’s the only goodbye she’ll ever give.

Lucy turns back to the sea, and runs down the outcropping of rock just as Margarite is gathering the rope to tie it off, and leaps across the thirty-meter-wide gap with a laugh on her lips.

Gloriosa shrieks in surprise and Hancock and Margarite squeal in concern, but Lucy lands easily, even gracefully, in the little boat.

“That was unnecessary, Lucy-san,” Gloriosa scolds, leaning on her staff with a withered hand over her chest.

Lucy just grins at her.  “Sorry for scaring you, Granny-Nyon.”

“Lucy-chan!” Hancock squeals, and she lunges forward to wrap Lucy in a hug.

Lucy allows it, Hancock bending nearly in half to press Lucy against her.  It’s the first time she’s seen the other woman in two years, since Rayleigh handled all the Kuja Pirates’ visits, and it’s nice to see her again.  “Hi Hancock, Margarite,” she adds, waving at the other girl from under the Pirate Empress’ shoulders.

“Nice to see you again, Lucy-san,” Margarite agrees.

“There will be time for reunions later,” Gloriosa decides, eyeing how Hancock had yet to release Lucy.  “We’ll be late if we don’t leave soon.”

That had Lucy wriggling out of the taller woman’s grip.  “We can’t be late!  My nakama are meeting up soon!”  And Lucy will be damned if she waits any longer than necessary.

Hancock pouts a little, but claps her hands after a moment.  “Oh yes!  I have a gift for you, Lucy-chan!”

“A gift?” Lucy asks, a bit surprised.  Margarite follows the implicit orders and maneuvers the little boat away from the shore, back toward the bigger seafaring ship.  Lucy grins a little at the rowboat, though, because it’s not much smaller than the one she and Zoro set sail on back in Shells Town.

The adventure is starting again.  It’s high time to sail forth to new seas ahead.

“I’m not telling!” Hancock replies cheerfully, clapping once.

Lucy pouts at her.  “Please?”

Hancock blinks, blushes, and then waves nervously.  “No, no, no, Lucy-chan!  I’ll show you on the ship!”

Lucy shrugs.  “Okay.”

It doesn’t take long to get to the Kuja ship, and Lucy is quickly greeted by many, many enthusiastic Amazonians, all of whom immediately start pinching and pulling any available skin within reach.  Lucy finds their fascination with her rubber abilities kind of weird, but not uncomfortable, and lets them do as they please.

Hancock, however, is displeased by the attention.  “Set sail for Sabaody!” She orders, looking formidable with her fists clenched on silk-covered hips.  “All hands on deck!”

The women on deck give mutual dissatisfied hums, but scramble to comply with the orders.  Hancock preens a little, then takes Lucy’s arm to guide her upstairs to her cabin.  On the way, Lucy recalls how she cried here as she left Marineford, horrified at her own actions and yet not regretting them.  It seems an age ago and yet not so long.

It was worth it.  She was right—so right—to wait, train, and grow.  Lucy is stronger now, and she knows she’d never have gotten here without Rayleigh’s constant attention to guide her.

Two years is a small price to pay for the guarantee that the events at Sabaody will never repeat themselves again.

“Here, Lucy-chan!”  Hancock hums, swaying over to her with a purple box with a blue ribbon around it in hand.  “For you!  A congratulations present for completing your training!”

Lucy grins up at her friend, and accepts the box.  “Oh, thanks Hancock!”  Unthinkingly, she shakes it a few times, curious.  Stuff inside moves around a bit, but it doesn’t sound hard or fragile or anything.  Weird.

Lucy slides the ribbon off, and rips the top off to see—

Red.  Red fabric.  Underneath that is some denim, and that might be black leather.  It’s—

“Clothes?” Lucy asks curiously, maybe a bit eagerly.  The clothes she was wearing when she arrived at Ruskaina two years ago have long since disintegrated.  At first Rayleigh kept asking Hancock to send clothes with every food shipment, but she destroyed them almost instantly, and basically resorted to using bandages and tree leaves to cover her thankfully modest bust, and a few sturdy pairs of denim shorts.

In fact, that’s what Lucy’s wearing now.  Although, admittedly, she was walking around the island shirtless there for a week or two, after she ran out of bandages and felt too lazy to weave more tree leaves together when no one was going to see.

She pulls out the red fabric.  It’s similar to her old red-plaid top, covering only her bust, but this one is a solid-colored red, and has long, flared sleeves that will end just below her elbow.  More confusingly, it doesn’t have any buttons or lengths of fabric to tie in the front.  There’s a strip of black leather sewn into the inside edge.  Lucy frowns at it, a little unsure, but then she sees the next item in the box.

It’s a black leather bust strap, six inches wide and laced in the front.  It’s not a corset—there are no ribs in it, and Lucy’s fairly certain it’s not meant to shape anything, just offer protection and maybe a little stability and cover the important bits.

She’s never worn anything like this.  She barely even wore a bra before, which gave Nami fits and made Robin laugh, and occasionally earned her hopeful glances from Sanji when she stretched in a non-rubber sort of way, popping her spine.  Lucy sends Hancock a look, raising her eyebrow in question.

To her surprise, the Shichibukai’s expression is solemn, and a bit fiercer than it was.  “In our culture, it is traditional to display scars earned through great tribulation, once they have been overcome.”  Hancock lays one pale, long-fingered hand across her chest.  “I thought you might wish to do the same.”

Oh.

That’s why the jacket won’t tie or close.  It’s why the leather strap will lace over her sternum, exposing the shiny red scar tissue.  For all that Lucy doesn’t remember receiving it—Akainu dealt it after she lost consciousness—Lucy has always associated it with Ace, and his loss.  Maybe now she can wear it as a reminder to the world instead of just herself.

You tried to knock me down.  You failed, and made me stronger.

Lucy can understand why the Amazons might hold that tradition.

She nods to Hancock, a bit solemn.  “I do.  Thanks.”  She shuffles the clothes a bit, trying to see what the next item is.  Sturdy denim shorts, exactly like the ones she usually wears.  Good thing, too, since her current pair are on their last legs.

Lucy is about to thank her friend for the new outfit and go change into it, but then she realizes there’s one last item in the bottom of the box.  Frowning, she reaches in and pulls it out.

It’s a fishing net, but Lucy’s fairly sure it was never meant to be used for fishing.  It’s woven from grey cord so soft it feels like silk, and it’s not particularly waxy, like a real net dipped in resin is.  There are some things woven into the knots here and there—a few colorful seashells, some pretty glass trinkets Lucy has seen the Amazonians wear sometimes.  Woven through one side is a canary yellow sash, maybe four inches wide and almost double the length of the net it’s attached to.

“What…?” Lucy asks, a bit lost, and looks to Hancock for help.

“It’s a skirt,” Hancock declares proudly, looking a little smug.  “I told you I’d have one made for you, remember?  It’s not like the one you tried then, but I thought you’d like this better.”

Lucy blinks, recalling the days spent on the Marine ship to Impel Down, how Hancock gave her a skirt to try on that was bright yellow but much too big, and how Lucy thought a skirt might be nice if she wasn’t such a fighter.  “But you gave me shorts…?”

“It’s a cover-up,” Hancock explains, approaching matter-of-factly and taking the skirt from Lucy, holding out the ends.  She deftly lifts it over Lucy’s head, and catches her around the hips with it, over Lucy’s shorts.  “See, you tie it off to the side, just like so…” Hancock weaves a simple knot over Lucy’s left hip with the yellow sash.  The net hangs off to her right, the edge tickling her knee and a few of the seashells clinking against each other softly when she moved.  “…and viola!  Fashion and function,” Hancock declares proudly.  “I know how important that is to you.”

Lucy…isn’t actually sure what to think.  She’s never…she’s only ever worn a skirt one time.  She hasn’t had the urge to do so again.  Maybe a bit ungratefully, she blinks stupidly at Hancock.

Thankfully, the Pirate Empress seems to have expected such a reaction, because she waves an imperious hand in front of her face, as if dismissing the concern.  “I know you don’t wear skirts, but Lucy-chan,” Hancock tells her seriously, “You’re a woman.  One who is going to be Pirate King.  You should own your femininity, in whatever way you see fit.  The rest of the world won’t let you forget, after all.”  The words have a vaguely bitter tinge to them.  Lucy opens her mouth to speak—maybe to comfort Hancock—but her friend beats her to it.  “Just—try it.  The whole outfit.  There’s a mirror over there.  If you don’t like it, I’ll repurpose the sash to a belt for you, okay?  I’ll be over there.”  Hancock hooks a thumb to the adjoining room Lucy shares with her.

And Lucy, figuring she owes Hancock at least that much, smiles.  “Okay.”

When Hancock is out of sight, she dons the clothing, even swapping out the old shorts for the new ones.  The lacing on the leather bust strap takes a minute to figure out, but it goes on easily enough.  Finally, she dons the red jacket.  It’s made of thick, sturdy cotton, and on Lucy it ends maybe two inches above her waist and just below the black leather.  Finally, she readjusts the net skirt/cover-up/whatever, thing, uncertain of the way it hangs off of her.  As a kid she was liable to get caught on the most random things whenever she wore loose clothing.  She kind of doubts things have changed that much, regarding her own self-awareness.  A net just seems like asking for trouble, and Lucy’s still not all that certain she wants to wear a skirt at all.

But she’ll at least try it.  That way she can tell Hancock thanks but no thanks, and there’ll be no hard feelings.  Hopefully.  Sometimes with Hancock it’s hard to tell.

Feet in her trusty sandals, Lucy clops over to the full-length mirror, and stops in front of it.

Her breath catches.

In part, this is because it’s the first time she’s seen herself in over two years, and while she’s never been particularly vain, she usually knows what she looks like.  Lucy’s face is thinner, maybe from maturity, or maybe from training.  Her tan is deep, like usual, but she has more freckles than she used to, especially on her more-prominent cheekbones.  Her hair is longer than it’s ever been, and although she’d noticed that she hadn’t realized.  It’s well past her shoulders now.  To get it back to her usual length she’d have to cut more than she would keep.  She’ll have to deal with that later—she doesn’t like it long at all.

It’s the first time she’s seen the scar in full.

It’s massive, taking center stage on her chest, and crisscrossing her breasts in an X shape.  It looks ugly.  It looks dangerous.  It looks like the memories it represents.

Lucy’s glad Hancock picked clothes that would let her show it off.

The weirdest thing, however, is the net.  It’s not exactly a skirt, but it gives off a similar effect, swishing when Lucy sways and lengthening the angle of her legs.  It drapes around her hips asymmetrically, the top of it spread around the sash and the bottom gathering around her right knee.  It’s loose enough that it won’t hinder her movements.   It’s flexible, and sturdy enough that it won’t rip, and the yellow sash hangs down the outer curve of her left thigh, completing the effect.

It makes her feel…feminine.

Lucy’s never felt feminine before.

It doesn’t feel weak.

She looks like an adult.  Like a pirate.  Like a—a—

Lucy reaches for the Straw Hat, waiting patiently beside the gift box.  She twirls it in her hand once, rolling it up her arm, and presses the worn, familiar straw to her hair.

Yeah.  Yeah, this is—good.  She looks like—like—

“You look like a King,” Hancock says smugly from behind her.  Lucy’s still so surprised at her reflection she doesn’t even look up at her friend.  “A Pirate King, that is.”

Lucy squares her shoulders.  Widens her stance.

She’s ready.

“Yeah,” she agrees.  “I do.”

Chapter Text

Zoro approaches Shakky’s bar with a strange mix of eagerness and disappointment.

Lucy isn’t here.  Lucy isn’t anywhere on the island, that Zoro can sense.

Rayleigh’s here though, he’s pretty sure.  And if Zoro’s going to track down his captain, Rayleigh is still the best person to start with, even two years down the line.

Zoro pushes open the creaky oak door, and the familiar, much-missed smell of a musty bar wafts over him as he steps in.  Zoro stops in the entrance, waiting for the owners to call him in.

“Welcome,” Shakky’s rough voice greets.  “You’re the first one here.”

Zoro steps into the bar and the door swings shut behind him.  His eyes adjust slowly, and Rayleigh morphs from a white-grey blur to a more defined silhouette raising a tumbler of scotch in greeting.

“Sit, have a drink,” Shakky invites.  “Sake, right?”

“Thanks,” he accepts.  He pulls up the stool next to Rayleigh.  “You were with Lucy, right?  Where is she?  How is she?”

Rayleigh hides a smile behind his glass.  “I was, but I came back a few months ago.  I’m sure she’s fine though.  A friend wanted to drop her off, but she should be here soon enough.”  Rayleigh grins.  “She’s strong, after all.”

A knot of tension two years old releases—at least mostly.  He’ll relax when he sees her.  But it sounds like she’s okay.  “I know she is.”

Shakky drops a whole sake bottle in front of him, and Zoro takes it with a grin.  “Thanks.”  Drinking without having anyone looking over his shoulder is something of a relief.

“So where did the Tyrant send you?” Shakky asks.  “Somewhere useful?”

Zoro nodded.  “Mhmm.  I trained with a master swordsman.  Left about a month ago.”

Rayleigh considers for a moment, and then doesn’t ask.  “You’re stronger, then?”

Zoro takes a sip out of the Sake bottle.  Rayleigh should be able to tell, but he clearly wants to see what Zoro says in response.  “I am.”

“Glad to hear it,” Rayleigh tells him genially.  Then the light in his eyes grows more serious, and something rakes across his senses.  The presence of a predator, like when Lucy dropped that yak or when Rayleigh rendered an auditorium unconscious.  It’s not that the old man is using his Conquerors, he’s just…unmasking it to emphasize his point.  “She needs someone who can keep up with her.”

Funny.  This feels like a test.

“We won’t let her down again,” Zoro answers after a moment, holding Rayleigh’s gaze.  “I won’t.” 

Rayleigh’s eyes flash, but Zoro doesn’t catch the emotion behind it.  His senses won’t stop insisting he investigate the nearby predator.

“No,” Shakky says warmly.  “I don’t think you will.  But Matcha-kun,” Shakky, calls as she takes a gentle drag of her cigarette.  Zoro sends her a look to express his displeasure over the nickname.  “I think, were she here, Monkey-chan would promise the same to you.”

Zoro knows that.  They spent two years apart because of that.  “I won’t fail her,” he repeats.  Shakky gives him a look, and Zoro feels Rayleigh’s gaze sharpen through Observation Haki.  “Because she’s my captain,” he adds awkwardly.

Shakky snorts.  Rayleigh takes a sip of his scotch, and there’s a distinct air of amusement around it.

Zoro feels his cheeks burn, and takes a longer-than-necessary pull of his sake.

Lucy and the others better show up soon.  If nothing else, Rayleigh and Shakky seem unfortunately perceptive, and Zoro’s not sure how many smug looks and vaguely threatening glances he can take from the Dark King and his wife.

“Only you could nearly get dragged to an entirely different island when someone points to a boat ten feet in front of you.”

Honestly, of all his nakama to reunite with after two years, it had to be the shitty cook he saw first.

Zoro was kinda hoping he would drown somewhere before showing up in Sabaody.

“Number seven shouldn’t be so smug towards number one,” Zoro retorts, unwilling to acknowledge the comment.  He was tired, okay?  His nerves have gotten worse every day that passed without Lucy’s arrival.  He wanted to take a nap, and then they tried to take him to the next island, which.  No.  He’s not postponing this reunion a single minute longer than necessary.

And, really, if he could destroy their ship that easily he probably did those guys a favor.

“I still don’t know how you managed to get here first, shitty Moss-Head.”

“Talent, shit cook.  Talent.  I’m aware it’s something you lack.”

Sanji glowers at him.  “You may have lost an eye but your shitty ego is twice as big without anyone around to deflate it,” he retorts.  But he refrains from actually kicking him, and yeah, okay, Zoro’s kind of alright with seeing him too.

It’s been a week since he arrived, and although various crewmembers have been wandering around here somewhere, he has yet to run into any of them.  He can sense them, though, through Observation Haki.  He can sense the whole island.

Judging from the way Sanji keeps careful, easy track of the crowd, Zoro’s guessing the cook learned the skill too.  The bastard’s senses seem more in tune to his immediate surroundings than Zoro’s, though.  Detail-oriented, rather than big-picture.

If he’s being objective about it, that’s good.  It means there’s a balance of skills among the crew.  It means they can’t be taken by surprise.

It’s still irritating to see how smug the shit cook is though.

He still hasn’t sensed Lucy yet.  But if Rayleigh is anything to go by, he maybe won’t unless she uses Conqueror’s.  The old man is even better than Mihawk at masking his presence, when the asshole bothers to mask it at all, and Zoro is betting Rayleigh taught Lucy the same trick. 

Still.  Something in his gut is telling him to move toward the edge of the commercial area.  Toward the more lawless groves.

Zoro trusts his gut.  He starts walking forward, veering off in a vaguely left-ish direction.

Behind him, Sanji suddenly stops cold, and sniffs.  “I smell…beef?  And perfume?”

Zoro sends him a quizzical eyebrow.  Sanji’s always been a bit off, but he’s been acting like he swallowed a magic mushroom or something every time he sees a woman.

Predictably, the blonde man scurries off to a food stand, manned by a pretty young woman with long dark hair and a generous bust.  The girl looks vaguely uncomfortable in the face of the cook’s raving about her skills.  She’s breathing though, so she’s Sanji’s type, and he probably won’t leave her alone.

Zoro rolls his eye and continues on, letting his gut lead him and leaving the cook behind.

Ten minutes later, he’s passing the less wholesome shops on the edge of the commercial groves—the ones pedaling porn or recreational drugs and shady-looking loan adverts—and something flashes across his senses that makes him stop and take pause.

A will more dangerous than a simple predator.  A powerful one.  A girl.  A voice and aura like the sun and the sea.

Lucy.  It can only, only be Lucy.

It’s all Zoro can do to keep his breathing steady.

She’s three groves away.  Other side of the commercial district, and on the edge of the lawless groves.  She’s in the area where gangs have taken up shop in spite of the authorities’ efforts, and it feels like she just took a few of them out.

Zoro runs.

It’s easy to keep track of her, now that she’s blown her cover and he’s got a lock on her voice.  She wanders away easily, unconcernedly.  Something irrational inside him is certain he’s about to miss her, and that if he doesn’t fix it now, he won’t see her for another two years.  Admittedly, he isn’t paying attention to much other than her, his heart beating erratically in his chest.  He runs into no less than three different people, that last clipping him on the shoulder so hard he spins away in a full rotation, and he has to stop to steady himself, find her.

Then he looks up and she’s there.

If Zoro ever had any doubt as to whether or not he is in love with her, the way his heart leaps to his throat and seems to expand violently in his chest would be all the proof he could ever need.

He drinks her in, vaguely disbelieving.  She’s crouched in front of a mangy dog, munching on an apple, and she’s turned away from him so he can’t see her face.  She’s maybe twenty feet ahead of him, but it feels like another two years’ distance from here.  He’s shaking, and it’s all he can do to keep putting one foot before the other.

He knows the exact moment she notices him, because her hand stutters as she strokes the dog’s tawny, coarse fur.  She freezes, stands, and Zoro stops moving entirely.  She turns around, and the apple rolls from her fingers.

Zoro’s breath ceases and his body feels like it’s on fire because Lucy—Lucy is beautiful.

Her hair is longer than he remembers, the ends meeting the top of her shoulders.  It frames her face better, makes her look older, more adult.  While she’s always been kind of wiry, she looks stronger now, lean and well-defined.  Like an athlete.  Her brown eyes are blown wide, her freckles prominent against her cheekbones. The scar on her chest stands out against her skin, red and angry under the black leather and crimson fabric.  She might be wearing a net as a skirt now, but the shorts beneath it and the sandals are familiar.  She looks older, more mature, and yet still inherently the same.  Still Lucy.

There’s something beautiful and tragic in her face.  Like she’s feeling too much.  Joy and longing and need are in her eyes and Zoro would know because he feels the same.

He takes a hesitant step forward, arms opening a little in unconscious invitation.

Something in Lucy’s expression fractures, and then she sprints toward him full tilt, crossing the distance between them in three easy strides.  She takes a running leap and he braces himself as she plows into him, legs wrapping around his waist and her arms clamping in a circle over and under his shoulders.  She buries her face in the crook of his neck and the smell of the sea and sun and citrus and rich, woody anise that fills his nostrils is so familiar it hurts, even after all this time.

Zoro closes his arms around her, vice-like and impregnable as he trembles.

Zoro doesn’t believe in God, doesn’t believe in heaven or hell or anything other than his own strength and his crew’s, the fact that he’s in love with his captain who will be Pirate King, and his destiny as the World’s Greatest Swordsman.  But he thinks, as his legs give out and he’s forced to his knees with her still wrapped firmly around him and his hand cradling her head to his shoulder with some strange sense of release far beyond simple relief, that he could almost understand why someone might call this feeling jubilation, revelation, or religious ecstasy.

It’s not any of those, though.  It’s catharsis, and joy so potent it’s painful.

He rocks slightly on his knees, reveling in her touch, the rise and fall of her lungs beneath his hands, and closes his eyes in silent, painful reverie as he feels her tears make a wet patch on his shoulder.

“I missed you,” she croaks, her voice barely loud enough to reach him, even with her lips brushing against his ear.  “I missed you.”

“Didn’t leave you,” he promises.  He’s surprised he can speak at all, he’s shaking so hard.  “I never will.”

She emits a soft, pained noise that makes him tense defensively, his whole body instinctively reacting to her injury.  He curls around her even tighter, and he feels the bridge of her nose press against his neck as she cries in earnest, tears flowing from her face to his skin and down his chest as she hides it.   She takes ragged, quiet breaths, trying not to make any noise.

Zoro has not gotten any better at comforting people in the last two years, but even he realizes this is the type of thing that has to run its course.  He resolves to hold her until the tears cease and her breath no longer trembles; until insecurity and disbelief fade from him, and the shock drains away to return feeling to his fingers.

Kneeling in the sticky grass, the woman he’s so painfully in love with clinging to him and crying for relief and joy his arms, Zoro presses a kiss to the top of her shoulder, and closes his eyes in the most profound sense of peace he has ever felt before.

This is right.  This is—is—

Home.  This is home.  And he’s been wandering for much longer than two measly years.

Chapter Text

Lucy isn’t exactly sure how long they stay kneeling in the grass, but she’s willing to bet it’s a long time when she finally stops crying—she’s so, so happy—and Zoro shifts beneath her in a vaguely uncomfortable way.  He hasn’t moved this whole time, has barely even lifted his forehead from her shoulder, and she, reluctantly, starts to pull away so he can unfurl a bit.

Large, calloused hands slide vicelike to her hips and pull them back to his waist, locking her against him.  Lucy notices the faintest of tremors in those powerful fingers as they press warm and heavy against her skin.

“Just…”  Zoro breathes, shaky.  He doesn’t even lift his head, his breath warming the meager space between them.  He sounds surprised at himself.  “Just a little longer.”

Lucy doesn’t mind that.  Lucy doesn’t mind that at all.

She pulls him closer, relaxed and warm all over.  It’s unbelievable how much she missed him.  And even though seeing him—finally—makes her absolutely jubilant, there’s a part of her that aches and mourns for two years spent apart.  Two years that seem sharper now upon reuniting.

To reassure him, she fists one hand in the back of his robe and the other comes up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, longer and thicker now than it was two years ago.  It felt finer, cropped so close to his head.  She never knew her swordsman had such nice hair.  She wonders who or what convinced him to grow it out.

Zoro seems to sense that she’s not going anywhere now, and the tension in his body leaks away under her fingers.  He slides his hands around to press against her back again, and he even nuzzles into the corner of her neck and shoulder, breathing deep.

Lucy feels something soft and painful break inside her.  She’s glad they took this time apart to grow, but she regrets the pain her decision caused her nakama.  Especially her swordsman.

(It offers her a guilty breed of reassurance, however, that maybe she was right, maybe those feelings are just as present for him, too—)

Pressed in close like this, she can feel the mass of corded muscle he’s become, and now that she’s a bit calmer it sends shivers down her spine.  She wants to trace each groove of skin and sinew, learn his body from memory alone.  She wants to know what took his eye, and learn the ridges of the scar with her lips.

He’s beautiful, her swordsman.  Beautiful.  And she’s wanted him for years.

Lucy does want to know who told him about the Amazonian tradition of displaying battle scars though.  She owes that person both a favor and a punch in the face for getting Zoro to wander around half-shirtless in this green robe of his.  She’s not sure how anyone expects her to avoid distraction like that.

They stay like that for a long time, just curved into each other and relishing the contact.  She’s glad Zoro is the first of her crew that she’s seen.  She needed this, and judging from the way he still hasn’t uncurled from around her, Zoro did too.

She wants to know what happened to him.  She wants to know everything.

She wants to tell him.

“Fucking figures that shitty swordsman would get lost again.”

It’s a familiar voice, one that draws her attention immediately.

Zoro recognizes it too because his hands clench convulsively around her, like he can’t decide if he should let her go or pull her into him.  While Lucy could remain wrapped around Zoro for the rest of her life and not object, they have a crew to reunite with and there will be time later to tell him all the things she wants to.  Lucy makes the decision for him and eases away, but she lets her hands linger on him though, lets him know it’s not a rejection or dismissal.  She stands, but doesn’t move out of arms’ reach.  Zoro follows her, and she’s pretty sure he’s grown another inch and a half over the last two years, because he positively towers over her now.

His expression is…soft.  There’s hunger there too.  It makes her cheeks burn and butterflies flutter in her stomach.

Lucy reaches out with Observation Haki, and immediately notices a strong voice that sounds like smooth jazz and sparks with low-burning charcoal and smoke.  Lucy turns to the source, and spots a blonde head of hair about ten feet away, strolling toward them easily.

Just observing him, Lucy knows he gave them time to reunite, and intentionally warned them of his arrival.  There’s no way he didn’t know exactly where they were as soon as he came within a hundred yards of them.  It looks like she was right, then—Sanji’s good at Observation Haki.  Maybe very good.

Admittedly, Lucy’s a bit jealous of that.  Any proficiency she has with Observation Haki is thanks to backbreaking labor and effort, rather than any particular talent.  Lucy bets Zoro’s good at it too, considering his eye and the added focus compensating for it would require.

Lucy waves, grinning.  Zoro is warm and steady behind her, and she can tell he mostly doesn’t mind the interruption.  He and Sanji are actually friends after all, no matter what the two of them protest to the contrary.

She’s glad he stays close behind her though.  She still feels…untethered, in a way.  In her minds’ eye she still sees the way he was looking at her when she turned around to face him.  Like the world might end if they didn’t close the distance between them, one sharp grey eye burning with need against bronze skin, reflecting exactly the way she felt herself.

Lucy still feels a bit insecure, a bit needy.  She’s glad Zoro hasn’t stepped away.

“What the hell’s that shitty Moss-head doing to you, Sencho-san?”  In the exact tone guaranteed to piss Zoro off the most.

“Fuck off, number seven.”

“Would you stop referring to us in order of arrival?  One miracle ain’t enough to make up for a lifetime of getting lost running in straight lines.”

“You got here first?” She asks in surprise.  Sanji’s right, that’s a new one.  No wonder he’s so proud.

Zoro scowls at her.  “Yes.”

“Don’t be so rude to Lucy-san, you brute,” Sanji scolds.  And he steps a little closer so Lucy can go in for a hug.

It’s nothing like the embrace she just shared with Zoro, but there’s an undeniable sense of relief all the same.  Sani smells like cigarettes and something warm and spicy, like the Sunny’s galley.  She’s missed her nakama.  She’s glad they’ll be within reach now, rather than spread across the globe.

Lucy releases Sanji quickly, stepping back so her hip brushes Zoro’s.  It’s a comfort to her as much as it is an assurance to him, a promise of sorts.  She sees Sanji take note of it, but his mouth is hidden behind a cigarette so she can’t see his reaction.

“We should probably get back to the others,” Zoro tells them.  “They’re all waiting at the ship.”

And damn, Zoro really does have better Observation Haki than her.  She can kind of sense that, but it’s fuzzy and indistinct with that much distance.  She’d need much better focus to pick her crew out passively like that. 

She’s going to need to keep working on this.  She needs to be capable of holding entire islands in her sight so she can keep track of her crew properly.

“Alright, lead the way Sanji!”  She orders, grinning.

Sanji beams, blue eye glinting with something very close to pride.  “Aye, Sencho-san.”

They walk back to the ship easily and without incident, and even though Sanji and Zoro bicker the whole way back, Zoro stays close beside her, and doesn’t complain at all when Lucy takes his hand in hers.

“Explain again where you got the giant bird?”  Sanji asks, sitting easily at the rear.  Most people probably wouldn’t be nearly so comfortable three-hundred feet in the air without some kind of harness, but Lucy’s crew is awesome, and Sanji looks completely at ease.

Chopper, still sitting in Lucy’s lap—it’s been a long time since she hugged Chopper, okay, and two years have just made him fluffier—giggles.  “He’s my friend!”  A pause.  “Well, he tried to kill me first.  But now we’re friends!”

Zoro huffs something that sounds suspiciously like “not another one,” but the tone is heartwarmingly fond no matter how much irritation Zoro tries to imbue it with.  He’s sitting behind her, his shoulder brushing her back occasionally when one of them shifts.

“Sounds like you’ve had an adventure, Chopper!” Lucy compliments, grinning giddily.  She’s proud of him, her little doctor who didn’t even think he could leave Drum, going off and having adventures on his own.

He’ll never be alone again, of course.  Not now.  But it’s still nice to see how much he’s grown into himself.

Chopper, for his part, squirms happily at the comment.  “Shut up you asshole!  That doesn’t make me happy.

It’s weird but the cuter Chopper gets, the more she wants to squeeze him.  Go figure.

“Oi, the ship’s coming up,” Zoro warns.

“We can all sense that, Moss-head.” Sanji growls, still irritated with something Zoro said a few minutes before Chopper showed up.  Lucy doesn’t remember exactly what it was.  Something about numbers…?

“Huh?”  Chopper asks, bewildered.

“We can sense them with Haki,” Lucy explains.

This does not seem to explain much to Chopper.  “What’s—Oh!  Take us down!”

Lucy looks over the edge of the bird, leaning over so far that Zoro sighs and catches her by the back of her shorts to keep her from falling off entirely.  She doesn’t mind though, doesn’t even really register it because there, in a small little cove surrounded by mangrove trees and green water, is her ship. 

The Sunny looks beautiful, all red and golden Adam wood, and the figurehead looks as bright and optimistic as it did the day they left Water 7.  And on the deck…

On the deck are the five remaining members of her crew.  Her nakama.

“HEY, EVERYBODY!”  She calls, waving at them enthusiastically with both hands as she finally releases Chopper, and Zoro cursing at her from behind as he struggles to keep her from falling off the bird.

There’s a moment of surprise, and then four voices cry out her name.

Lucy grins, so broad her cheeks hurt and her eyes water.  The bird sweeps down to land before the ship, and Lucy leaps off well before the wings fold back against his sides.

“LUCY!” Nami—Nami with long hair—is the first one to reach her when she makes it up the gangplank, and something akin to joy and relief is written in her eyes even as she tackles Lucy with a giant bear hug so fierce it topples Lucy completely.  She finds herself flat on her back on the grass deck with her enthusiastic navigator crying happy tears and berating her for not getting back sooner.

“Oi, Nami, let her up!”  Usopp complains.  “We want to say hello too!”

And Nami does, muttering about how irritating captains are and still wiping some of the moisture out of her eyes.

Then Lucy is passed around—first to Usopp, who has facial hair now and muscles, then to Franky, with his massive shoulders and his own happy tears and assurances that he’s made improvements to the Sunny he’s sure she’ll like.  Next is Brook, strumming a green electric guitar rather than his trusty violin, and he asks to see her panties—a question that has Nami kicking him in the head and Zoro bristling from across the deck, but he also promises to play her Bink’s Sake:  Soul edition, soon.  Finally there’s Robin, who is quietly thrilled, wearing a long skirt that reminds Lucy of Hancock and with her hair pulled away from her face in a way that makes Lucy think she’s happier, and done hiding from the world.

Lucy looks around at all eight of them and smiles as broadly as she can.  “I missed you guys!”

Usopp covers his eyes to hide the wetness on his face even as he grins, and Sanji turns away suspiciously, his face covered by his hair.

The yellow-red beam pierces Sunny’s hull, ripping wood from the frame.

Lucy doesn’t even pause, she just leaps over the side with one arm held in a block position, black with Haki, and the other hand gripping the edge of the deck.

The beam of light hits, but does nothing against her will.  She grunts a little, but the beam is reflected back to the Pacifista, rebounding and destroying the delicate machinery in the explosion.

“STRAW HAT,” bellows a large man with an axe.  Lucy remembers him from the last time they were here.  “YOU BETTER COME WITH ME NOW!  YOU WON’T MAKE IT IN THE NEW WORLD!”

Lucy frowns at the man, flummoxed.  Obviously they would.  What did he think they waited two years for anyway?

Lucy pulls herself back over the side of the ship to stand next to Zoro, who promptly expresses his own displeasure with that statement by swinging Shusui in an almost casual arc that has so much force behind it three of the mangroves cleave in half as the air pressure carves its way to a Pacifista behind the big Marine.  The machine is cleanly severed in two in the blink of an eye, but not a single hair on the Marine’s head was touched.

Lucy can’t quite help eyeing Zoro and his muscles appreciatively.  Seriously, he was distracting enough before, and he wasn’t running around half-topless then.  How on earth is she supposed to focus now?

Sanji, not to be outdone, quickly takes a running leap off the Sunny’s deck and uses the still-falling trees to ricochet off of them like a pinball, until he reaches the last remaining Pacifista, and promptly buries it in the earth to the waist with one kick, the top half of the machine crumpled like paper.

“Jeez, and I thought they were strong before…”  Usopp mutters.

“What the hell kind of monsters are you people?”  Nami demands.

As Sanji bounds back, the axe guy looks around, clearly furious.  “STRAW HAT!”

Lucy just grins, expression fierce.  Her crew is strong.

Then she notices a presence, one she hasn’t spoken with for six months now.

Lucy turns to the front of the ship, and sees Rayleigh not far away, sitting easily on one of the tree trunks Zoro felled a moment ago.

“I came to offer assistance,” he tells her, his weathered face creased in a smile. “but it looks like you have things well in hand.

Lucy smiles at him.  She does not know where she’d be without Rayleigh.  “Thank you for everything these last two years.”

Rayleigh chuckles.  “It’s unlike you to be so polite,” he teases.  “Go on, you lot.  You have a ship to sink.”

Lucy nods, the smile still plastered across her face.  “I’m gonna do it, you know.”  Rayleigh tilts his head to the side, like he does when he’s waiting for her to explain something that apparently only makes sense to her.  She raises a fist in the air, and presses Shanks’ hat down into her hair.  “Pirate King!  I’m gonna do it!”

Behind her, a couple members of her crew sniffle at the statement, but Rayleigh just holds her gaze steadily until his lips curve up into a smile.  Lucy isn’t great with Observation Haki, but she is good at sensing emotions in other people.  In Rayleigh there’s pride, so much pride, and maybe even love for her and her crew.

“Rise to the top then, and see what there is to see.”

And that’s all that ever needs to be said between them.

Lucy grins, and turns to her crew.  “We ready to go?”

“Just give the order, Sencho!”  Nami responds, her eyes watering a little, and that’s only the second time Lucy can recall her navigator ever calling her by her title.

Lucy moves to stand below the mast, her hands on her hips, and she grins as she feels Rayleigh’s presence explode into mischief as he goes to confront the axe-wielding Marine and the grunts they’ve sent after her.

“Everyone!”  She calls, and immediately each and every one of her nakama are focused on her, proud and anticipatory smiles on their lips.  They like adventuring just as much as she does, the liars.  “There’s a lot I want to tell you, and I want to hear about where you were and what you were up to these last few years.  But first…thank you for going along with my selfish decision.” 

“Idiot,” Nami responds, flippant.  “You’ve always been selfish.  Of course we went along with it.”

There’s a general hum of agreement from the more vocal members of the crew, and an enthusiastic declaration of loyalty from Sanji.

She feels Zoro’s eyes on her, and despite the contentment and quiet pride and lingering relief she feels from him, she refuses to return his gaze.  She’d forget what she has to say.

“Alright!  SET SAIL!” she bellows, and she thinks the trees might shake with the declaration, and carry her determination on their trembling limbs right up to the sky.

I’m going to be Pirate King, Ace.  Just watch.  I know you’ve been waiting to see it.

And with her nakama gathered around her and the friends they’ve made over the past two years protecting them, they sink into the depths below, the next adventure waiting to be had.

Chapter Text

As it turns out, sailing to the bottom of the ocean is more boring than Lucy expected.

At first it wasn’t.  At first the whole world was lit with murky green-gold light and there were fish and various sea creatures everywhere.  It was beautiful and fascinating and everyone at one point or another expressed genuine awe regarding the beauty of the undersea depths.

That was hour one.  Then Lucy got the news.

“It’ll take ten hours to descend to Fishman Island,” Nami explains.  “We have to go really slowly so the bubble has time to adjust to the pressure differences.  If we sink too quickly, the bubble will pop and then everyone minus Lucy will be dead from the water pressure.”

And, after the first hour, they’d descended far enough down that the only light at all was coming from the Sunny, the water around them pitch black and mysterious.

So.  First hour of sailing underneath the ocean:  Great.  The rest:  pretty boring, as far as Lucy can tell.

Lucy’s still in way too good a mood to let it get her down though.  She still can’t stop smiling.  Her nakama are here with her.  They’re going on another adventure!  And Zoro…

Lucy has not let it pass her notice that Zoro has barely let her out of his sight, despite being perfectly capable of keeping track of her through other senses.  Lucy knows because she’s been doing the same to him, her heart twinging sort of panicked and needy every time his broad shoulders disappear behind the mast or the railing.

She has to tell him.  Soon.  Like, right now, kind of soon.

Except not quite now.  Sanji is laying out the food for lunch, and something about the way he buzzes back and forth between the kitchen and the lawn deck where everyone’s still gathered makes Lucy think he’s missed cooking for them as much as she’s missed his cooking.

The rest of the crew isn’t much better than her and Zoro, to be honest.  They’re constantly touching one another, and her, and they hover in little groups, each refusing to leave the others alone.  It makes a knot twist in Lucy’s stomach, just a little.  Something proud and remorseful and joyous all at once.  She knows she made the right decision after Marineford, but she hates that she forced her crew apart.  They probably needed each other as much as she needed them at one point or another over the last two years, and they had to stand apart thanks to her choice.

But she can also see how much they’ve all grown, and not just in the last two years.  She can’t help but compare their current friendship to the—wonderful, perfect—loners and outcasts she first met on their adventures.  She loves that they love each other.  She loves them, and she catches up with each of them in turn.

She has the best crew.  It’s no idle boast, and for so, so many reasons.

“Alright, come sit down you lot.  Lunch is ready,” Sanji calls, and there’s a mad scramble as the other eight of them make their way to the picnic table.

Well, everyone scrambles except for Zoro, Nami, and Robin.  Zoro, probably because two years of separation means nothing in the face of brotherly rivalry, and Nami and Robin because they know Sanji would have saved them each a place near the best food.  Actually, he probably saved Lucy a seat as well, but that doesn’t stop her from rushing to fight Usopp for the spot next to the bread rolls.

Finally, after much flailing and general disorder that feels so achingly familiar and routine, like they never had a day apart, everyone settles.  Sanji fawns over Lucy, Robin, and Nami, serving them each perfectly portioned helpings of fillet mignon and roasted vegetables and pouring Robin and Nami a glass of red wine.

Lucy chooses grape juice instead, poured with a wink and characteristic aplomb by her cook.  After that, everyone else is allowed to dig in, and the usual free-for-all begins as the boys try to fill their plates and wolf down as much food as they can before Lucy finishes and starts stealing food off their forks.

Sanji looks close to bursting when the compliments roll in from all sides.  Lucy has to admit, it’s clear her cook has outdone himself.  Even she’s taking time to taste the food before swallowing.  Sanji looks so proud and satisfied it kind of makes her want to hug him, but she would have to stop eating for that, so that’s a no go.

There’s something about eating together, eating and laughing and bickering and stealing food off of one another’s plates, that makes their reunion feel more real.  It makes Lucy feel warm all over, their bonds solidifying around and between each of them.  Eventually the meal winds down and even Lucy stops eating Sanji’s excellent food, her appetite sated for the time being.

“I have made it my personal mission to satisfy Lucy-san’s nutritional requirements with a single serving of food!”  Sanji declares once Lucy expresses her complete adoration of Sanji’s cooking.  There’s a gleam in her cook’s eye that’s slightly deranged.  “I spent two years in hell to obtain those skills!  They shall not go to waste!”

“Bro, she eats more than the rest of us combined,” Franky responds skeptically.  “You’d need a plate the size of the Sunny.”

“It can be done!” Sanji declares, determination glinting in blue eyes.  “I am sure of it!”

Lucy pats her stomach, a little round with food.  Lucy would be skeptical if it was anyone else, but it’s Sanji, so he can do it.  “You can do it, Sanji!”

Her cook turns to her, his expression almost manically happy.  “Thank you for your faith, Lucy-san!”

“I don’t know, Sanji…” Chopper adds, sounding reluctantly doubtful.  “Lucy’s appetite is the way it is due to her Devil Fruit powers and subsequently increased metabolism.  I’m not sure it’s scientifically possible to actually satiate her with a normal serving of food, even under lab conditions.”

“I stake my honor as a cook on it!” Sanji declares, undaunted.

“What kind of hell has cooking tips anyway?” Zoro asks, tone snide.  “Bet it wasn’t that bad, shit cook.”

He’s sitting at the other end of the picnic table, directly across from Sanji, and if they were of a mind to cut down on her boys’ bickering, that was probably not the best possible seating arrangement.

Sanji gives a full-body twitch that he would probably deny is a flinch, and growls.  “The kind of hell no one in their right mind speaks of in the light of day, you shit swordsman!  Especially not in the company of ladies!”

Lucy notices Nami raise a curious eyebrow.  “C’mon,” she goads, “I’ll tell you mine if you tell us yours.”

Usopp sighs, forlorn.  “You’ve gotten even more addicted to deal-making than you were in the past.”

“I cannot, Nami-san!  For the sake of your innocence!”

Half the crew turns to give Sanji an incredulous stare.  Lucy is not included among their number, but she does understand.  Nami’s not exactly sheltered.

Robin just smiles.  “Poor Sanji-kun.  I heard rumors among the Revolutionaries that Ivanako had an apprentice.  I don’t suppose you know who that was…?”

Sanji freezes, and his whole face pales.  “Ah, Robin-chan, that’s…”

“Iva-chan?”  Lucy asks with interest.  “You were with Iva-chan?”

Sanji blinks at her in surprise, the shock fading.  “Oh, that’s right.  I forgot you knew him.”

Lucy’s grin broadens.  “Wow!  You’ve been training with Iva-chan this whole time?  You must have gotten really strong, Sanji!”

Her cook puffs up a little with pride, at least until Brook interjects with an innocent, “Who is this Ivanako?”

“One of the Revolutionaries’ top commanders.  A personal friend of Dragon’s,” Robin explains calmly.  “And—”

“Robin-chan!”

“—the Queen of Kamebaka.”

Lucy grins, turning to Sanji who looks like he’s considering  throwing himself into the deep.  Dumb, they just found each other again.  “That’s great, Sanji!  Iva-chan’s really strong, I bet you learned lots.”

“Mhm,” Nami agrees, her face pinched with the laughter bitten behind her teeth.  “Tell us what you learned, Sanji-kun.”

Lucy raises an eyebrow at her amusement.  At the other end of the table, Zoro snorts.

“See Cook, wasn’t that bad,” Zoro contends, and there’s an eager grin on his face as he picks a fight.  “Bet painting your nails was difficult training.”

"Hey, doing it well is hard," Usopp objects and it's enough to derail Sanji's oncoming tirade in favor of gaping at the other boy.  Usopp seems unbothered.

Lucy blinks, considering, and turns back to Sanji.  “Can you do the thing Iva-chan does with hers?”

Sanji just sighs.  “No, Lucy-san, that's a devil fruit.  Oi, Marimo, put a sock in it dumbass—”

“Ain’t my fault you got a stick up your ass.”

This proves too much for her cook and he takes a flying leap over the picnic blanket with one leg wreathed in flames and Haki activated.  “WHY YOU—"

Zoro engages him in a fight, Wado Ichimonji flashing even in the dim lighting.  Aw, Zoro’s happy to see him.  He would’ve drawn Kitetsu if he was pissed.

“I think it's cool, Cook-bro,” Franky chimes in, looking amused.  “Only the manliest men wear dresses.”