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Zoro groans, his stomach bubbling, and screws his eyes up. He wants to sleep, but the churning nausea in his guts won’t let him.
He feels like utter shit.
Why does he have to be getting sick? Especially when he regularly points out that he never gets sick. The others are going to call him a major hypocrite.
“Hey, Zoro?”
Usopp’s voice makes him jump, and Zoro sits up sharply. But… being nauseous has made his balance go off and the bunk room seems to spin, and…
Zoro’s hammock tips and he falls to the floor.
“Crap, are you okay?!”
His stomach churns, acid burning the back of his throat. The ship spins and spins and all Zoro can manage to do is slump there.
And then Usopp makes things worse.
“Oh crap, Zoro, I’m sorry. You look awful! Are you okay? Here, let me help you up…”
And arms loop around his chest and ease him upright, but it puts pressure in all the wrong places and Zoro retches. Before he can stop it, he retches again and vomits all over his shirt.
Usopp drops him, the jarring action making him puke harder, and his voice screeches and whines as he yells through the doorway, “Nami! Luffy! I made Zoro sick!”
As Zoro coughs up the contents of his stomach, sweating and trembling with exertion, Usopp appears at his side again, rubbing his back. “Zoro, I’m sorry.”
“You did what?” Luffy calls, only to shut up upon entering the room. “Oh.”
“Shit!” Nami mutters, racing over.
As the nausea crashes through him like breaking waves, his partners crowd around him, Nami mumbling, “it’s okay,” and Luffy rambling and Usopp rubbing his back, and… despite feeling like shit, it sort of helps.
And none of them call him a hypocrite.