Archive of Our Own ^beta

A light at the end of the tunnel finally rouses him from his stupor. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he quickens his pace, nearly stumbling over his feet in his dash to the end of the narrow corridor.

The literal guiding light is the only unusual thing he’s seen for hours, and he’s thinking of nothing else but a means of escape from these damn tunnels.

The sound of his swords clattering echoes in the passageway as he dashes toward the exit. Lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the blinding light, he squints through his fingers. He can only just make out the back wall of a large cavern, lit by flickering lanterns.

As his vision clears, three things quickly become apparent:

First, that he is not alone. He sees the outline of a misshapen figure standing near the far wall. Although he can’t tell whether or not they’re human, he finds that he doesn’t care all that much when his eyes flicker over to the area behind them.

Second, he realizes that there is someone in danger. Someone is hanging by their wrists from the ceiling. Subdued with thick, industrial chains twisted around their entire body, the figure swings lifelessly.

Third, that there is a lot of blood. So much puddled on the floor underneath them. It drips from dangling shoes – shoes that, Zoro realizes with a sharp pang of dread, he could recognize anywhere.

Black dress shoes. 

The maybe-human turns to face him; Zoro doesn’t see them. All he sees is Sanji, bleeding profusely from a wound that he can’t locate from this distance. Barely alive.

The moment he makes a decision to intervene, the figure — the attacker, he reminds himself — speaks up hoarsely, “Ah, welcome home, sweetheart!”

The voice is decidedly feminine.

Idiot.

Zoro finally turns to look, simultaneously unsheathing his swords.

She looks like something straight out of a nightmare.

The woman’s body is thin and distorted. Her black hair is falling out in several places, leaving behind bald patches that reveal her pink scalp. Her wrinkled face is caked with cracking makeup, sagging cheeks decorated with a number of black beauty marks.

Her movements are rigid and inelegant. As she lumbers forward, her bones sticking, an audible cracking can be heard as her spine twists and bends.

She brings her hands forward, revealing to Zoro at last her cherished weapon of choice. A swordswoman.

“I wasn’t expecting you home so early!” Her smile is all gums and no teeth. “I apologize for the mess. I’ll have it cleaned up in no time.”

His face darkens. “What… the fuck did you do?”

She continues on as if she hadn’t heard him, “I was just about to get started on dinner. Why don’t you take a seat, put your feet up? I bet you’ve had a long day at work.”

An eye twitches when Zoro stubbornly refuses to move.

“Really, I insist that you sit down.” One hand clutches her sword, the other is held up placatingly. “No need to get upset.”

That does it.

He fiercely lashes out with Kitetsu. To his surprise, the attack is instantly blocked by the flat end of her blade. Quick reflexes, then.

She continues her spiel as if she hadn’t just been targeted with the sharp end of a sword. “I promise I’ll have dinner ready next time. I know how you like to see the house when you get home.” She parries his attack with some effort, redirecting it back at him.

He dodges and counters with Yubashiri. A cut opens on her upper arm.

Their blades cross several more times before Zoro finally discovers what he deems a potential weakness. Using his strength to his advantage, he can probably shatter her defense.

He finds that she’s much better at blocking than returning his attacks. She clearly doesn’t know much in the area of offense, but her defensive ability is solid.

Using his full strength, Zoro barrels forward with his swords swinging. This time, a large gash appears diagonally across her clavicle. Blood gushes from the wound, soaking the front of her dress.

At last, this appears to be enough to finally take her down. She stumbles and, unable to find her footing in the haze of her searing wound, falls to the ground. He doesn’t waste time; he knocks the sword out of her hands and silently declares victory.

Looming over the woman crumpled at his feet, he lets Kitetsu graze the skin of her throat.

The sword thrums in his hands. He holds it steady. Barely.

There is fear in her eyes, he finds a sick sort of satisfaction in the fact. As a shadow obscures half of his face, he asks her only one question: “Why?”

A moment passes as her confidence slowly returns. No longer appearing afraid, she turns her steely eyes up at him. A gummy grin pulls at her painted lips. “Because he deserved it. They all did.”

Zoro wants to kill her; Kitetsu vibrates in his hands. He decides that a lethal blow would be too generous.

He resheathes the thrumming sword in his hands and, making up his mind, bends down to retrieve her own. It’s much heavier than he expected. “Okay,” he says calmly as he drives it clean through her shoulder, effectively pinning her to the ground.

She might’ve cried out in pain, Zoro doesn't hear it. He switches Yubashiri to his dominant hand and rushes over to his hurt nakama.

A curtain of blond hair is covering the cook’s face. Small puffs of air escape from his parted lips.

Zoro tracks blood from the bottom of his shoes and almost slips in it. He doesn’t notice, he’s more concerned with finding the wound.

Eventually, he finds it: a horizontal cut across the stomach. No organs are visible, thank fuck, but, from the sheer amount of blood, an artery had clearly been severed.

The swordsman rears back Yubashiri and cuts down the chains in one fell swoop.

Sanji falls hard into the puddle of his own blood. The crumpled heap on the ground lets out a pained groan.

Zoro curses. “Cook? You alive?”

“Guh,” is all the lump on the ground can manage.

He pulls his haramaki over his head and uses it to staunch the cook’s bleeding stomach. The mess of green fabric is almost instantly soaked through with fresh blood.

Gritting his teeth, he begins to apply pressure to the wound. Sanji lets out another pained groan.

“Hang in there,” he tells him, the words feeling foreign coming out of his own mouth. After resheathing his sword, he very carefully slides an arm underneath his injured nakama, lifting him one-handed while simultaneously keeping enough pressure to staunch the wound.

The cook whines as his body is slightly jostled. He slumps his full weight against the swordsman’s broad chest, head lolling on his shoulder.

Zoro notices that his white shirt is now covered in blood. “I’ll get you to Chopper,” he quietly promises the cook. The ‘somehow’ is clearly implied.

He chooses one of the tunnels at random, trusting his intuition to guide them. The cook stirs slightly but quickly settles back down once they start moving.

Zoro wracks his brain as he tries to remember what exactly Chopper had been tasked with. Realistically, he is either somewhere in the caves or out with the others on the surface, but he could’ve easily been lured into the caves by a potential opponent or an injured ally.

If he can’t find Chopper himself he hopes that he can at least find someone in the caves who knows the whereabouts of their reindeer doctor. Without a Den-Den Mushi to help them communicate, there’s no telling. The signal probably wouldn’t have worked this far underground anyways.

As the swordsman does his best to navigate the dark cave system, he wishes fleetingly that he had remembered to take one of the lanterns in the cavern with him. He can barely see several feet in front of him, much less the cook in his arms. The only reassurance he has is the steady rise and fall of the chest pressed against his own.

They continue on for several more minutes in the darkness before Zoro remembers that the cook usually carries a lighter for his cigarettes. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to wake him, so he gently repositions the body in his arms so that he can reach into the pockets.

A weak voice startles him, “S’empty.”

He can’t hide the look of surprise on his face at  the cook’s consciousness. “Your lighter?”

Sanji’s response is slow and deliberate, “Used it up already… On the way.”

“Okay.” It’s an inconvenience but certainly not the end of the world. “You know where Chopper is?”

“No,” the cook says through gritted teeth.

“We’ll find someone who does,” Zoro promises him.

Painfully aware of how little time they have, he decides to pick up the pace. He tries not to jostle the cook too much – either way, he hears no complaints.

Almost ten minutes pass of nothing. His composure starts to falter.

He usually prides himself in his ability to remain level-headed, and though his patience is far more durable than that of most people, it too has a limit.

He keeps sparing glances down at the cook. He can barely make out his features in the low light, but he can clearly see that his eyes are closed. Zoro can thankfully still feel him breathing, but he’s skeptical to look away for too long lest he miss something on the cook’s face.

Of course the swordsman isn’t paying attention when Sanji finally chooses the moment to speak up. “Zoro,” he says, barely above a whisper. “Zoro, if I don’t make it—”

He thinks he knows what’s coming. “Don’t—”

“Please listen—” His voice, however frail it may be, still retains some of its natural ability to chastise.

He can’t hear this. He won’t. “No—”

“Zoro, I have to—”

“—NO!” His shout echoes. “I don’t wanna hear it!”

The cook finally opens his eyes. He blinks slowly up at him. “I’ll never forgive you if you don’t.” His tone is serious.

“I don’t care,” Zoro says, and means it. “Hate me all you want, you’re not dying like this.”

Sanji shakes his head. He ignores the swordsman, barreling on in desperation, “You have to tell Zeff—”

“Cook, stop—”

“—Tell Zeff that I’m sorry. That I never deserved any of what he did for me—”

“I won’t—”

“—That I threw it all away—”

“Stop it—”

“—And that I know it exists somewhere, but the All—”

“SANJI!” Zoro is furious.

The mention of his failure to achieve his dream, of an end without the All Blue, is unfathomable. There is no future where any of the Straw Hats aren’t able to achieve their dreams, and as the unofficial-official first mate, he needs to make sure that everyone understands that.

The cook falls silent. Regret flashes briefly across his features. This look is quickly replaced by outrage.

“Why won’t you just listen?!” Quiet anger like this is uncharacteristic of the cook. There is usually nothing quiet about how he fights.

“You say that and you’re off the crew,” Zoro tells him firmly. “Straw Hats don’t give up their dreams.”

The cook frowns. “I don’t need it anymore—”

“The fuck you don’t.” He scoffs, disbelieving. “It’s the whole reason you’re here, isn’t it? That one ocean?”

“I’m here to cook,” Sanji says, shaking his head. “I can be replaced. There are plenty of other sea-cooks out there.”

Zoro is starting to think the blood loss is getting to the cook’s head. “You really believe that?”

“You have an achievable dream. Luffy does too.” He smiles wistfully. “I have a fantasy.”

The swordsman can feel his anger welling up. “I already told you: Straw Hats don’t give up their dreams,” he tells him, stiffening. “If you really think you’re dying, then you die believing in that dream.”

The fight vanishes from the cook after several moments. He sounds tired when he says, “Fine.”

“Quit being dramatic.”

A phrase that would usually provoke a heated and, well, dramatic response is left without retaliation. “At least promise you’ll thank Luffy for me. If something happens.”

He considers this for a moment. At last, Zoro looks down at his nakama and says resolutely, “Nothing will happen.”

This answer seems to be enough to placate him. The cook smiles up at him feebly. “Marimo?”

“Curly-brow?”

He doesn’t respond right away. As he sleepily lets his eyes fall closed, his smile stays put. “M’tired. Don’t get us lost.”

“Don’t die,” Zoro says more desperately than he means to.

He checks on the cook repeatedly as he rests— still breathing, he notes in thirty-second intervals, faint pulse. Zoro is more than familiar with the nature of blood loss, so the signs are easy enough to detect. Exhaustion, dizziness, disorientation: the cook has all three.

The haramaki is no longer working to staunch the blood. He carefully repositions the cook into one arm. Pulling off his own t-shirt, he replaces the soaked haramaki. Though his shirt is already bloodstained, it has enough clean fabric to successfully slow down the bleeding for the time being.

The cook doesn’t stir this time. Still breathing, he double-checks, just sleeping.

Another twenty minutes pass. The tunnels are starting to grow wider, and he hopes that he’s correct in thinking this could potentially be a good sign.

Regardless, there is no foreseeable end to the caves — and no help for his nakama either. If after all this he runs into a dead-end, he thinks he’s going to start cutting things up with his swords, probably dooming them both to suffocate under the collapsed cave system.

In short, things are starting to look bleak.

He doesn’t think Sanji will be able to last like this much longer, not with how much blood he’s already lost. If they don’t find Chopper at the end of these tunnels waiting with a first-aid kit and at least seven pints of the cook’s rare blood type in hand, they’re more or less fucked.

Half-thinking, he lets out a string of curses, “Motherfucking shit.”

The last thing he expects is to hear a response.

“Zoro?” A voice calls out from further down the tunnel.

He tries not to jostle the cook around too much as he rushes toward the sound of the voice, but he finds that he’s starting to lose patience the more he becomes aware of how little time they have left.

“Uh, Zoro?” The voice speaks up again, this time with a bit more of its characteristic apprehension. It’s also noticeably much closer now.

“Usopp!” He can see the sniper standing with his flashlight in hand. At the sound of his name, he quickly turns around, shining a beam of light directly on the pair.

“Zoro!” Usopp sounds relieved to see him.

Half-breathless, he wastes no time in demanding: “Where’s Chopper?”

Usopp only then seems to notice the cook. His eyes widen in a way that would normally be comical. “Wait, what happened?!”

“Fuck what happened!” Zoro has no time for this. “Where’s Chopper?”

“I-I don’t know!” Usopp raises his hands in surrender, flashlight briefly illuminating the ceiling. “I really wish I did… but…” he trails off, “Is Sanji okay?”

A weary voice rises from the cook in question, “No… Sanji is… not okay.”

Zoro comes to an eventual stop in front of Usopp. In the now-distinguished light, he can see that Sanji’s eyes are still closed.

“Oh!” Usopp looks surprised to hear the cook speak up for himself in this state. “I’ll help you find Chopper then.”

“Been almost an hour,” Zoro tells him brusquely. “You’re the only person we’ve seen.”

The sniper looks horrified. “He’s been like this for almost an hour?”

“Longer,” Sanji adds, already half-asleep.

“He’s been like this for longer than an hour?” Usopp reiterates, gesturing wildly at the cook’s condition.

“S’not like this is my fault,” Zoro protests. “I found him like this.”

“Okay, well… I saw Robin not too long ago. She told me she had to go on ahead. Not sure why, but she was being all cryptic about it.”

Zoro doesn’t know what to make of this.

At last, the cook says in a shaky voice, “Robin-chan… can find… Chopper.”

“That’s right!” A smile splits Usopp’s face. “She was here maybe 10 minutes ago. We can probably still catch up with her.”

Zoro doesn’t waste any time, he starts running. If finding Robin means potentially finding Chopper, he is more than open to the suggestion. At this point, he’s open to any suggestion.

He doesn’t get far before Usopp calls after him, “Wrong way, Zoro!”

Scowling, Zoro turns on his heels and starts heading in the direction the sniper is indicating.

“Would it be better if I ran ahead?” Usopp offers once the swordsman catches up to him. “So Chopper can know sooner? You have to carry Sanji so it might help.”

“Yeah, do it.” Any suggestion is fair game.

Usopp nods, bravely accepting his mission. “Just keep heading this way. And please don’t get turned around.”

“I won’t,” Zoro grumbles, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.

Somewhat reassured, the sniper hands over his flashlight, sends them both a cursory thumbs-up, and heads off down the tunnel.

For his part, the cook has no comment to make on this. Zoro decides not to worry, focusing instead on catching up with Usopp and Robin. Thankfully, the flashlight makes navigating the caves a lot easier — even for Zoro, whose only objective is to keep heading in a straight line.

The only reassurance is that there’s no diverging paths for him to get lost in.

Five minutes pass. Another light is visible in the distance. Not a flashlight beam, but a faint lantern. It’s coming from a cavern at the end of the tunnel very similar to the one he had found the cook in not too long ago. He wastes no time running toward it.

He can see Usopp and Robin standing in the threshold. The two turn to look in his direction when he approaches. He can see now that Robin has her arms crossed, clearly channeling her ability. He hopes this is her way of locating Chopper.

“Zoro, you made it!” Usopp waves his hands over his head. “Robin’s doing her thing and looking for Chopper. She should be able to find him if he’s in her range.”

“Range?”

Robin has her eyes closed as she says, “I can only use my ability within a certain radius of my person. Unfortunately, these caves seem to cover an exceptionally large area. If Chopper happens to be within a mile of where we are now, above or below us, I should be able to locate him. But there are many places to look.”

He hadn’t heard the cook mention any of this. “So you still might not be able to find him?”

“It is possible,” Robin tells him.

Zoro curses under his breath. He’d been so certain that this lead would be enough to find the cook the help he needed. He hadn’t even considered the fact that Robin could have a limit to her ability, knowing how strong and capable she was.

But there’s still a chance.

Carefully, he lays down the cook’s unconscious body on the floor, kneeling over him to keep constant pressure on the wound. A wince contorts his face but he doesn’t wake.

Usopp watches this nervously. “What do we do if we can’t find Chopper?”

“We try to keep the cook alive,” Zoro tells him, avoiding his eyes. “Either of you know how to do doctor stuff?”

“N-Not that!” Usopp points a trembling finger at the cook’s stomach wound. “It’s obvious he needs stitches. We don’t have any medical supplies or any clue what we’re doing.”

Robin still appears to be busy sprouting eyes. “I happen to know a medieval surgery practice that just so happens to be effective at cauterizing wounds.”

“Ah, Robin!” Usopp shrieks. “Why do you have to be so morbid?!”

“It might be our only option,” she says, unbothered by this, “Since we have no medical supplies. We could burn the wound closed temporarily so that it stops bleeding. The scar that it leaves will be permanent, but it might very well save Cook-san’s life.”

Usopp puts his head in his hands, “I refuse to participate in this.”

Zoro isn’t thrilled by this idea either, but it makes just enough sense to not be crazy. “It could work—” (Usopp cuts in, “You too?!”) “— but the cook said his lighter was empty. How else can we burn the thing closed?”

The sniper looks conflicted for a moment. At Zoro’s sharp look, he grimaces and says, “Guess I should probably mention that I brought along one of my inventions that I… haven’t been able to perfect just yet. I think I fixed it before we got off the ship, but if I take off the last part I added, it’ll… most likely catch on fire.”

“Then do it.”

“A-Are you sure?” Usopp wrings his hands nervously. “What if it doesn’t work and we just make it worse? What do we do then?”

“Just try it. Robin can help us.”

The archeologist in question finally opens her eyes. “Chopper is nowhere to be seen. It seems to be our only option.”

“Surely there’s something else we can do!” Usopp protests. “I read a book once where this guy used a stick and some leaves as a needle and thread. Maybe we can do that?”

“You see any sticks around here?” Zoro asks him, nodding toward the barren cave. “We haf’ta do this.”

Robin smooths the wrinkles in her shirt, kneeling down on the cook’s other side. “Perhaps you can use one of your swords to seal the wound?”

“Won’t it burn them?”

“Steel melts at around 1,200 degrees. The average fire burns at around 600,” she recites with an air of professionalism. “In short, they should be fine. The ash will wipe right off.”

Zoro nods, aptly convinced. He debates which sword he should use for a moment, but eventually settles on his cherished Wado Ichimonji. He trusts this decision because it feels instinctively right, a tug in his abdomen draws his hand to rest on the white hilt. He hopes that it will be enough to save the cook.

As he unsheathes his chosen sword, Usopp reluctantly sinks down beside Robin. “Are we sure we wanna do this? Can’t we ask Sanji first?”

Zoro shrugs in response.

Assuaged, Usopp attempts to wake the cook, shaking his shoulder gently. After no response, the sniper eventually gives up, settling back on his knees.

The swordsman doesn’t like the defeated look on Usopp’s face. “Here, lemme try,” he offers nonchalantly. He briefly increases the pressure with his hand staunching the wound.

Usopp gasps when the cook’s eyes suddenly shoot open.

“Ah, shitting marimo,” Sanji curses a foul streak, face contorted in pain, “What the fuck was that for?”

Only after a moment does he seem to notice the other two faces looking down at him. The wince suddenly becomes suppressed. “Robin-chan? Usopp?” He furrows his brows. “We found Chopper yet?”

“Chopper is unfortunately out of my range,” Robin tells him. “But we have come up with another method of preventing you from hemmoraging and bleeding out.” Beside her, Usopp lets out a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat. “And Longnose-kun insisted that we wake you to ask how you feel about it.”

The cook blinks up at them in confusion. “What is it?”

“We cauterize your wound,” she says simply. “It should keep you stable until Chopper finds enough blood to replenish what you lost. However, it will leave a permanent scar. Not to mention, it will also be extremely painful.”

He nods without hesitation. “Oh, okay.”

Usopp pats him congenially on the shoulder. “Just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t hate us for this. We’re just trying to help.”

When the cook doesn’t respond to this, Robin cuts in expertly, “I would normally suggest we do this when he is asleep, but since you two were so eager to wake him, he will have to endure it conscious. It is possible the pain will be too much for him to bear awake and, best case scenario, he falls back unconscious.”

Zoro turns to the sniper. “Get out that invention thing of yours.”

Usopp digs in his satchel for a moment and procures a strange cylindrical mechanism. It has a large spinning piece on the top and a clunky motor. A small bag of powder is attached to the outside of the fan.

“Say goodbye to the Usopp Fog Machine and hello to the...” With an air of grandiosity, he pulls off a small piece from the motor, discarding it over his shoulder. “Usopp Fire Hazard!”

“I never thought I would be glad that your inventions often meet a fiery end,” Robin quips with a small giggle.

“Feast your eyes then on my latest creation!” Usopp holds out his invention dramatically. 

Zoro feels his grip tighten on the hilt of Wado despite himself. “Let’s hurry this up. You two ready?”

The sniper takes his mechanism a safe distance away from the group, indicating with a crook of his finger for Zoro to follow him. He sets his invention down on the floor as the swordsman joins him. “Ready!”

Robin sprouts two hands to staunch the wound. “Ready,” she parrots.

A small nod of confirmation from Zoro initiates the start of the procedure. The cook watches them from his spot on the floor with nervous eyes.

Usopp flips on the switch and takes several large steps back, holding up his hands. After a moment, the motor catches flame, a small blaze at first that eventually grows to a relatively modest size.

Zoro sticks Wado directly into the fire. He feels peculiarly like he’s roasting marshmallows on the end of his sword. He shakes off this image when he remembers that the flame is coming from something aptly named the Usopp Fire Hazard.

“It should take some time,” Robin explains from behind them. “Keep it on the flame for a few more minutes.”

After several long minutes, Zoro lifts Wado out of the flame to inspect it. It has an odd orange-ish hue to it. He carries it over to where Robin and the cook are, kneeling back down at his side. Usopp watches from over his shoulder.

Slowly, Robin removes the shirt from the wound. Blood pours freely from the laceration, pooling underneath him. The cook squeezes his eyes shut.

“I’m going to close the wound with my fingers,” she announces as several hands sprout up along the gash. “Press down with the flat end of the sword first. I’ll move around accordingly.”

Zoro nods. If this is what it takes to fix the cook, he’ll do it.

As her fingers begin working to close the wound, pushing skin tightly together, he hovers with his sword. The cook is unquestionably in pain now, his mouth pressed into a thin white line.

When Robin is finished, she sprouts another hand that taps him gently on the shoulder.

The swordsman doesn’t hesitate as he presses down the flat end of Wado directly onto the wound. The second it makes contact with the cook’s skin, he lets out a loud cry of pain.

Immediately, Usopp swoops in with a balled-up hunk of fabric that he procures from the depths of his satchel. He shoves it into the cook’s mouth, looking apologetic.

Zoro winces as he lowers the flat side of the sword further onto the wound, sealing the skin that Robin pinches tightly together.

The cook is still screaming out in pain. The sound is only somewhat muffled by the fabric in his mouth, but it at least prevents him from biting his tongue off. After several seconds, he starts to thrash around, instinctively shrinking away from the searing heat of the sword.

Usopp reaches out to hold down his shoulders; Robin sprouts several more appendages to grapple his legs.

Zoro presses down with the flat of his sword until it becomes flush, completely sealing off the wound.

The faint scent of burning flesh seems to surround them all.

The cook has tears openly streaming down his face. The fabric is barely muffling anything now — his pain is loud and unimaginable. It’s a wonder he hasn’t passed out yet.

The swordsman keeps Wado steady until Robin tells him he can lift it. He sets it down carefully on the ground several feet away to cool off. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see that the flame from the Usopp Fire Hazard is starting to die down on its own.

Seeing the damage that Wado made, he realizes that though they no longer have to deal with the problem of an open wound, they now have to figure out what to do about these nasty burns.

As always, Robin seems to be one step ahead of him. “Chopper has plenty of burn remedies. He can decide which ones Cook-san will need.”

Usopp is no longer restraining the cook. He sits back on his heels, rubbing a tired hand down his face. “Is this really better than how he was before?”

Zoro doesn’t know. At least he’s not bleeding anymore.

The cook lays still. Staring up at the ceiling, his eyes remain unfocused. The wince on his face, unsurprisingly, has yet to disappear.

Usopp leans forward to take the fabric out of his mouth, and when he does, it comes back bloody. He looks down at the blood-stained rag in his hands, grimaces, and shoves it back into his satchel. “You okay, Sanji?”

The cook is still looking up at the ceiling, unseeing. Voice hoarse and gravelly, he says only one word: “Cigarette.”

The sniper quickly shakes off his surprise, thrown by this request. “W-Where are they? Are they in your pocket?”

When the cook still doesn’t elaborate, Usopp shrugs and starts looking himself. He finds a single crumpled cigarette and, shuffling over to the kindling ashes of the Usopp Fire Hazard, lights it on the embers. After it catches, he puts it right between the cook’s teeth.

Sanji wastes no time — he takes what can only be described as an inhuman drag. The wince on his face softens infinitesimally.

“Didn’t answer the question, cook.” Zoro narrows his eyes. “You good or not?”

The cook frowns. The cigarette twitches as his lips curve downward. “Does it fucking look like it?”

“No.”

“I think what they’re trying to ask you, Cook-san,” Robin cuts in stiffly, “Is if you’re feeling any better? You’ve lost a significant amount of blood in the past few hours. And the trauma your body must have experienced from the cauterization is likely very severe.”

At the sound of her voice, the scowl quickly vanishes. “No need to worry about me, Robin-chan,” he assures her feebly. “I’m feeling perfectly fine. Your genius thinking no doubt is what saved me.”

Robin nods to herself. “I will keep trying to find Chopper then,” she says as her eyes fall closed.

Usopp is wringing his hands. Opening and closing his mouth, he struggles briefly with his words. Eventually, he gulps audibly and manages to choke it out, “How did this even happen to you?”

The cook sighs. “Can I at least finish my cigarette first?”

The sniper nods guiltily. “No, yeah, sorry. Go ahead.”

The second Zoro opens his mouth, Robin, as if sensing some sort of tension, decides to cut in, “I would suggest that you get yourself some rest, Cook-san. You certainly need it.”

The cook seems to agree as he calmly takes the half-finished cigarette out of his mouth and stubs it on the ground. “Of course, Robin-chan,” he says, all sweet and saccharide. Almost immediately, his eyes shutter closed.

Zoro reclaims Wado and slumps against the far wall. He starts cleaning the ash off the blade. As the cook sleeps, Robin continues her silent search for Chopper and Usopp fiddles with something he’s pulled out of his satchel.

The sniper is the first one to break their silence. The mechanism in his hands suddenly snaps in two. He frowns down at it. “What happened to him, Zoro?”

The swordsman shrugs. “Some creepy swordswoman had him hung up on the wall and cut open. Thought he was her husband or something.”

“Did you defeat her?” Robin chimes in from across the room.

“Yeah. Skewered her with her sword.”

“Lovely.” There’s a hint of amusement in her voice, as if she would’ve done the same.

The sniper looks simultaneously proud and horrified at this. “Okay, cool,” he says shakily.

The three lapse into silence as time passes slowly by. Zoro moves on to clean his other swords as well, figuring that they might need some maintenance too after bearing the brunt of that fight. Suddenly, startling them all, Robin lets out a surprised gasp. “I found him!”

“Chopper? Where is he?” Usopp asks eagerly. Zoro just stops himself from asking the same thing.

“Not sure,” Robin says truthfully, “But he can see my eyes. I might be able to lead him to us if I can figure out where his tunnel connects to ours.” She looks to be deep in concentration, face scrunched up. “One moment, I need to discuss the situation with him.”

Zoro and Usopp watch in anticipation. Presumably sprouting an additional mouth and ears to converse with Chopper, she completely checks out of her two real ones. The two boys exchange an intrigued glance.

When she returns, there’s a small smile on her face. “He’s not too far away. If he uses his Walk Point form, he should be able to find us in no time.”

Usopp looks as relieved as Zoro feels.

The three remain silent as they wait for the arrival of the reindeer doctor. Robin is focused intensely on navigating the caves with her abilities. Usopp and Zoro simply have nothing to say.

Another ten minutes pass without any sign of the reindeer; Usopp has taken to biting his nails to occupy himself in the silence. With his pinky finger halfway in his mouth, he asks the archeologist, “Where is he?”

“He lost?” Zoro chimes in.

“It’s much harder to navigate the caves without knowing where his tunnel is in relation to ours,” she admits with a slight bit of trepidation. “But everything should be connected. He is closer than he was before, in any case.”

Usopp removes the finger from his mouth. “Did you tell him about the carter-thingy we did?”

“The cauterization, yes. He told us to let Cook-san remain sleeping until he can assess the damage himself.”

“Is there any other way to help him?”

Robin purses her lips. “You could head down back down the tunnel to look for him,” she suggests. “Only one of you should go and I recommend it be Usopp. We don’t need anyone getting lost down here.”

Zoro lifts his head to glare at her. Usopp laughs.

“I shall!” The sniper announces heroically. “Do not fear, for I will soon return!”

He puffs out his chest, posing with his hands on his hips. Pointing one finger in the air to gauge his direction, he takes off in a run down the tunnel only to suddenly stop after several feet. He curses under his breath.

“Forgot my flashlight,” he mumbles, trudging over to pick it up from off the floor. Brandishing it over his head, he continues back down the tunnel, confidence only slightly dimmed.

Zoro turns to Robin once he disappears. “You sure he won’t get lost?”

The archeologist frowns. “No telling.”

Usopp and Chopper reunite after nearly twenty minutes of searching. Robin has been simultaneously guiding them and narrating each of their journeys aloud the entire way.

Zoro finds himself only partially listening. He rests his eyes, dedicating half his mind to the present and the other half to a basic meditation. If the cook is allowed to sleep, he should be too.

It takes ten minutes for them to return; Zoro hears them before he sees them. Robin has fallen silent.

“I thought we would’ve seen them by now,” Usopp is saying to Chopper.

Predictably, this sends the reindeer into a panic. “Does that mean we’re lost?!”

“No!” the sniper protests. “I’m sure we’ll be there soon.”

“What if we really are lost? Where’s Robin? She’s supposed to help us!”

Usopp makes a noise of disapproval. “Stop worrying, Chopper. They’re probably just a little further.” Almost immediately after he says this, as if on cue, he spots them down the corridor in the beam of his flashlight. “Oh, hey, I told you. There they are!”

At this enlightening news, Chopper instantly brightens. “Robin! Zoro! Sanji!” The sound of rapidly clicking hoofs follows him as he rushes ahead to meet them. “I’m so glad we found you! I was scared we were lost.” His eyes promptly fill with tears, lip wobbling precariously.

“Don’t cry, Doctor-san,” Robin says gently, sprouting an arm to pat his head. “You made it after all. And now you can help our cook.”

Chopper gives her a watery smile and says, “You’re right.” Taking off his backpack, he settles down carefully beside Sanji. The second he sees him up close, though, the dam breaks. He starts to cry.

Zoro can’t listen to him like this. “Pull yourself together,” he demands, not unkindly. “Fix him. Then you can cry all you want.”

The reindeer sniffles. “Yes, but…” he trails off, momentarily collecting himself. “This type of wound is usually fatal. I can only do so much with what I have. But it was smart to cauterize it. You were in a pinch.”

He pulls out a container of a foul-smelling purple salve from his backpack. “When was the last time he was awake?” Chopper asks them, carefully unscrewing the top.

“About thirty minutes ago,” Robin says, folding her hands diplomatically in her lap. “He’s been dead to the world ever since.”

Usopp yelps, “Don’t say it like that!”

Chopper wipes the tears from his eyes. “This salve burns pretty badly. He wouldn’t want to be awake for it.”

After setting the container down on the floor, he pulls out another item from his bag. This item in particular causes the color to drain from Usopp’s face.

“He also probably needs this,” the reindeer says, holding up an usually-large syringe. He taps it once with the end of his hoof.

Robin looks vaguely intrigued at the sight of it.

Usopp groans and hides his face in his hands. “Why is it so big?”

“He’ll need more than the regular dose,” Chopper replies as he rolls up the cook’s sleeve. “It looks like he needed this a lot sooner.”

Zoro frowns. He can’t help but feel the need to explain himself. “I couldn’t find you. Didn’t know where you were.”

The reindeer doesn’t look at him when he says, “This place is a maze. If Robin hadn’t been leading me, I don’t think I ever would’ve found you guys.”

Chopper quickly injects the shot while Usopp is still looking away. He discards the syringe into a small sterile container. Moving on, he begins applying the salve to the burn wounds on the cook’s abdomen. “You can look now, Usopp,” he calls out absently.

The sniper slowly peers between the gaps in his fingers. Deeming it safe, he lets out a sigh of relief and lowers his hands. “Warn a guy before you start pulling out stuff like that. Almost had a heart attack just lookin’ at it.”

“What about the blood loss, Doctor-san?” Robin ignores him, pointing at the dried blood on the floor underneath the cook. “What can we do about that for now?”

“None of you have his blood type. If I give him your blood, his body will just reject it,” Chopper says, frowning. “As long as the wound is closed, which it is because of the cautery, he should stay stable.”

“There any other way we can help?” Zoro asks.

“Somehow find a way out of here?” The reindeer suggests with a shrug. “He needs a blood transfusion. And quickly. I have all the supplies back on the ship. I need to do it there.”

“I think I know my way around about a mile radius, but I’m not sure which direction leads back to the surface,” Robin tells him. “If we split up, we have no way of communicating with each other besides my ability, and beyond my range I won’t be of help at all. I can try going ahead to gauge potential directions, but it could all be for nothing.”

“You’ll just get yourself lost,” Zoro points out, echoing her words from earlier. “Then we’ll have another problem.”

Usopp chokes on a laugh. When several pairs of eyes drill into him, he tries to play it off as a cough. “We shouldn’t split up,” he agrees, nodding vigorously. “We should all stay with Sanji.”

“Perhaps I can use my ability to see if we’re headed anywhere closer to the surface,” Robin tells them. “So far, I can tell that we’re well over a mile underground. Once the surface is in my range, I might be able to find a way toward it.”

“We should at least try to go that way.” The sniper points down the dark corridor behind them. “That’s where we came from.”

Robin nods, then turns to Chopper. “Almost finished, Doctor-san?”

“Almost,” the reindeer says, screwing the lid back on the small container of ointment. The longer the salve continues to settle into the cook’s skin, the more intensely its color changes from purple to blue. “Someone’ll have to carry him. Robin?”

“I won’t be able to do it. I’ll have to focus my energy on finding a way out of here.”

Usopp shakes his head vigorously despite not having been asked.

“I’ll do it,” Zoro offers with a shrug. “Brought ‘im here.”

“Perfect.” Chopper finishes cleaning up his supplies and slips his backpack on. Standing up and brushing himself off, he instructs the swordsman, “You can pick him up now. Just be careful.”

Zoro scoops the cook into his arms and stands. 

Robin turns back to address the others, “I’ll lead the way. We’ll head back in the direction we came.”

After everyone shows their consensus, Robin dutifully takes both the flashlight and the lead. Their marching order consists of her at the front, Zoro behind with the cook, and Usopp and Chopper taking up the rear. The two latter crewmates are whispering about something. Zoro decides not to eavesdrop when he overhears the word ‘invention.’

The cook is, as Robin had so morbidly put it, completely dead to the world. Nothing seems to be able to wake him as he is, so Zoro doesn’t worry too much about jostling him around. He does, however, make sure to be careful with the cook’s stomach wound.

Wado feels unusually heavy where it sits at his side.

The group walks for about twenty minutes. Periodically, Robin will close her eyes and slow down her pace, but she never once stops walking.

“You need to be carried too?” Zoro asks her on one of these occasions.

Before she has a chance to respond, Chopper pipes up from behind them, “I can carry you for a bit. I’ll use Heavy Point.”

Robin considers this for a moment, then says, “Very well, Doctor-san. I need to keep my eyes closed since we’ve passed the one-mile mark. I suggest you switch places with Swordsman-san and take the lead. I can give instructions as we go.”

They quickly reassemble. Chopper, now in his larger human form, takes the lead with Robin in his arms. Zoro, along with the incapcitated cook, is left in the back with Usopp.

Eventually, they come across another cavern. It isn’t the same one he had found the cook in earlier, but it looks oddly similar — meaning there are also chains on the walls. Usopp takes one look at them and hides behind Zoro.

Chopper frowns at the torture tools. “This place gives me the creeps.”

Usopp nods frantically into Zoro’s shoulder. The swordsman tries and fails to push him off.

“The cook was kept in one of these,” he informs the others. “Not the same one. They couldn’t have cleaned up all that blood this fast. And that weird lady isn’t here. I made sure she couldn’t get back up.”

”I’m gonna ignore that last bit,” Usopp says.

“Does that mean we’re closer to the surface?” Chopper asks hopefully.

Robin’s brows are furrowed. “Possibly.”

Heading down another tunnel at her careful instruction, the group moves along. Usopp occasionally starts walking backward to keep an eye behind them. He runs into Zoro more than once — the third time it happens, the swordsman loses his patience.

“Will you stop that already?!” Zoro snaps at him. “No one’s gonna ambush us.”

“How do you know?” Usopp crosses his arms stubbornly. “That room back there was super creepy. I don’t even wanna know what kind of torture they’re doing to people in there.”

A sharp look silences the sniper. He stops walking backward the rest of the way.

They break the surface an hour later. The sunlight is overwhelming, and Zoro has to fully keep his eyes closed for nearly an entire minute to stop the burning.

Out of the caves, he feels strangely unsteady on his feet. He didn’t realize before how narrow the tunnels had truly been, and now that he can finally move around freely, he finds himself stumbling around like a drunk.

He ultimately manages to keep himself and the cook from falling despite several very close calls.

The intricate cave system underneath the island is one thing, but the surface is a bit more underwhelming. A barren rock, an island-sized boulder in the middle of nowhere. No magnetic field to draw in travelers. Nothing.

Usopp immediately collapses on the ground, surrendering to his exhaustion. “I never thought we’d make it.”

Chopper carefully sets Robin down. Once her feet hit the ground, she starts brushing herself off. “Thank you for your vote of confidence, Longnose-kun.”

Zoro blinks the sun out of his eyes. “Let’s just hurry and get back to the ship.”

Shielding her own eyes with an extra hand, Robin carefully scouts out the area. “We anchored the Merry on the west side of the island. Based on the amount of time that has most likely passed, I would say that West is,” her real hand points in a direction, “that way.”

Robin leads them across the expansive rock. There are no trees or foliage to obstruct their view of the horizon, but from the upward curve of the island itself, it’s difficult to see the shore from where they’re standing.

They pass a lot of enemy bodies along the way. Based on the state of them, their captain is most likely the culprit.

The battle zone seems to be dormant now. Only hours ago, it had been trilling with action. Zoro and the cook had been fighting side-by-side, tearing straight through the enemy’s defense, a flurry of bodies left in their wake.

Now the cook is half-lifeless in his arms.

They find the Merry in about fifteen minutes. When Chopper spots it in the distance, anchored a ways from the rocky shore, his face breaks into a grin. “Oh, finally!”

Usopp runs ahead of the others, arms outstretched toward the ship. “Merry, how I’ve missed you!”

Robin looks quietly pleased with herself. “We should take two trips to be safe.” She points at the small rowboat pulled up on the shore. “Longnose-kun and I can wait for you on the beach.”

Chopper agrees and, together, him and Zoro begin loading the cook into the rowboat. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t stir once.

Zoro then drags the boat into the shallow water and hops in alongside Chopper. Surrendering the paddle, the swordsman instead keeps an eye on the pale-faced cook slumped against the bow.

The small dinghy struggles on its way to the Merry. The water is unusually choppy, even this close to the shore. Large waves hardly crash against the rocky beach before more come barreling in, cresting over one another. Seafoam surrounds the small rowboat as Chopper paddles desperately in an attempt to keep them afloat.

Eventually, after making little to no leeway, Zoro grabs the spare paddle and begins helping him. This seems to be more effective and, after several minutes of struggling, they finally make it where the Merry is anchored.

Balancing on the bobbing rowboat, Zoro loops an arm around the railing so they don’t float away. Chopper puts the cook on his shoulder and begins climbing the rigging. Once he makes it onto the deck, Zoro calls up to him, “You need any help or should I get the others?”

“I’ll be fine,” Chopper assures him with a subdued smile. “Get the others. I’ll start setting up my office.”

Nodding, the swordsman releases the railing and begins heading back to the shore. It doesn’t take him long to pick up the others. On the way back to the Merry, both help him paddle, Usopp with the spare and Robin with a string of extra appendages.

Once everyone makes it over the railing, Zoro pulls up the small rowboat onto the deck to keep it from floating away in the rough current. Nami and Luffy will have to find their own way onto the ship, most likely with a Gum-Gum Rocket.

All three Straw Hats immediately make a bee-line for the medical bay. They find Chopper in his smaller form fiddling with some supplies. The cook is on the bed. There is already an IV in his arm.

“Would you like some help, Doctor-san?” Robin offers for them all.

Chopper looks preoccupied, holding two syringes and closely comparing their size. “Maybe just Robin for some extra hands,” he tells them. “Zoro and Usopp can wait outside.”

Usopp looks shocked. “You’re kicking us out?!”

Zoro wants to protest but finds that he has no real reason to. He had been with the cook all afternoon, and now that he had fulfilled his promise to deliver him to Chopper, there was really nothing else for him to do.

So he relents, turning on his heels and walking out the door. He can hear the distant sounds of Usopp and Chopper arguing, but the sniper eventually gives up as well, joining him outside the medical bay.

The swordsman is leaning against the wall opposite the door, head down and arms crossed. He doesn't say anything, he knows that Usopp will.

“Are you gonna go back and help Luffy?”

Zoro sighs, scuffling the toe of his boot on the floor. “I’d just get lost.”

Usopp lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Wow, you really admitted it?”

“What?” The swordsman looks up at him, confused. “Place is a damn maze. ‘Course I’d get lost. Anyone would. We all did.”

“Oh, right.”

The two lapse into silence. Zoro can hear Robin and Chopper talking in quiet voices through the door. He doesn’t think he wants to hear what they’re saying, so he tunes them out.

Closing his eyes, he lets himself fall into another basic mediation. Hopefully Usopp will see him like this and have the decency to leave him alone.

No such luck. The sniper leans against the wall beside him. “Do you think we did the right thing?”

Zoro’s face twitches. “What?”

“The cartery-thingy,” Usopp elaborates, gesturing with his hands. “Do you think it really saved Sanji?”

“Doesn’t matter now, does it? S’already done with.”

“I know but now he’ll have that scar—”

Shaking his head, Zoro cuts him off, “Don’t worry about that. He’ll try and use it to attract women or whatever.”

Usopp snickers. He elbows the swordsman in the side. “‘Or whatever.’”

Zoro slaps his arm away. “Shut up.”

The cook remains unconscious for several days. By this time, Nami and Luffy have long since returned, a victory over the island and a sack full of treasure in tow.

Now three days out from Stalagmite Island and the crew has never seemed more disoriented. Time is moving more slowly, as is the Merry. The wind is almost non-existent, the dry heat is stifling. Zoro finds himself itching for someone to spar with.

The hot weather has been a constant burden on them all. Shared mealtimes are battlezones.

Out of necessity, Nami has been cooking for them. They all were upset about this, but no one was more upset than the navigator herself. Robin had offered to help a couple times, but it did nothing to make Nami any less wrought up.

She made broth for almost every meal. Zoro never found it in himself to complain, but the others clearly didn’t hold back. Luffy’s was never enough, Usopp’s was too bland, Chopper’s was too bitter. Robin, like Zoro, kept her complaints to herself.

Needless to say, they were all eager for the cook to wake up.

On the evening of the third day shortly before dinner, the captain barges into the medical bay, startling Zoro out of a nap. He had been on duty to watch the cook but he must’ve fallen asleep. While he’s still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Luffy dives straight to the point. “Thanks for saving him, Zoro.”

He doesn’t know what to say, whether or not he’s even allowed to call what he did for the cook ‘saving.’ If anyone had saved the cook, it was Chopper. It was Robin. Or Usopp. Not him, he just delivered the body.

Zoro accepts the compliment solely because it comes from his captain. He nods.

Luffy looks at him strangely, tilting his head to the side. He reads him like a book. “You know you saved him, right?”

“I took down that lady that did this to him, if that’s what you mean.”

The captain nods. “But you also got him help, which is what he needed. You saved him. So did Chopper and Robin and Usopp. But you made sure he kept going.”

He doesn’t understand what that means, his captain is intelligent in the strangest of ways. “Thank you,” he says anyway.

Pleased, Luffy turns to leave. With his back to Zoro, he says, “Make sure Sanji knows why he’s here.” The door falls shut behind him.

Zoro ponders on what this means for a long time.

Back in the tunnels, the cook had tried to abandon his dream and undersell his worth. But how would Luffy know about this?

The only plausible theory comes to him as the sun is setting several hours later. He skips dinner without meaning to. His captain did have an oddly perceptive nature, and most likely had noticed this on his own. However that’s possible, he has no fucking idea.

The cook finally wakes up late the following afternoon. Predictably, Chopper is there when it happens with an arsenal of pills to shove down his throat. The others are outside on the deck; Zoro is napping by the mast.

Chopper soon alerts them of the news and they immediately rush into the medical bay. Luffy trips clean over Usopp and Nami accidently shoulder-checks Robin into the railing.

Zoro opts to stay where he is.

Feigning sleep, he waits on the deck until eventually he can hear the telltale sounds of the others returning, chatting about the state of their nakama. He keeps his eyes closed even as a dark shadow falls over him.

“Zoro.” This voice is accompanied by a swift kick to the ankle. The curved point of Nami’s sandal digs into his skin.

Grimacing, he cracks open an eye to squint blearily up at her. She stands with her arms folded, looking displeased. “Witch,” he mumbles by way of greeting.

“Go see Sanji-kun.”

He bristles at her demanding tone. “Why do you care?”

“Because he’s your nakama.” Something else clearly goes unsaid.

He doesn’t bother to knock as he abruptly enters the medical bay. Chopper is still there, as is the cook, but at the sound of the door suddenly opening, both look up at him in surprise.

Under the combined weight of their eyes, Zoro wants nothing more than to disappear into the wall. Chopper only makes it worse when he says, “Oh, Zoro! Did you come to see Sanji too?”

He scowls at the reindeer. How had he not thought of this? He hopes against all odds that his face isn’t betraying him – the blush he can feel creeping up his neck tells him otherwise.

Chopper shrinks under his glare. The medical supplies in his hands clatters onto the table. “You can have a minute with him. I’ll just need to come back to check his vitals.” With his head down, he hurriedly slips past the swordsman and out the door. The sound of his pittering footsteps can be heard as he makes his hasty retreat to the aft deck.

Without the buffer of Chopper to protect them, the two men are left defenseless against the elements. Silence settles between them like a dense fog.

Zoro still refuses to look at the cook. He stares at the floor instead, waiting for the other to say something. He can feel the tension in the room steadily rising. He dreads every second of it.

When Sanji finally speaks, his voice comes out in a gravelly rasp — noticeably moreso than his usual smoker’s drawl. “Way to traumatize the kid, Marimo.”

Zoro frowns. “I’ll apologize to him later.”

The cook scoffs in disbelief. “You embarrassed to be here or something?”

“No.”

“You’re acting like you are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are,” he insists, more clearly this time. “Why’d you come here then?”

Because I wanted to, he wants to say.

When the cook suddenly lets out a dry, humorless laugh, Zoro wonders if he’s accidentally confessed this out loud. Sanji neither confirms or denies this when he says evenly, “You can’t even look at me.”

Before he can resist it, feeling ridiculously like he’s been challenged to do so, Zoro lifts his eyes to finally meet the cook’s.

He expects to see the bright blue eyes he’s become so familiar with, even this far away – what he doesn’t expect is to see them so dim, a dull gray amidst illusory pale skin and white bandages.

He wants to look away but finds that he can’t.

Zoro doesn’t think to school his expression into anything other than concern. The cook doesn’t fail to notice this. “Stop feeling bad about it,” he says sharply. “I don’t need your pity.”

“I wasn’t pitying you,” he tells him, frowning. “You got yourself into this.”

The cook’s breath catches. “Oh, I did, did I?” Something like anger flashes in his eyes. “You wanna finally ask me about that?”

“You finally gonna give me an answer?”

Despite being the one to demand the question be posed in the first place, the cook looks briefly conflicted on exactly how to respond. Eventually, he decides on one single word: “Zeff.”

Zoro has vague memories of the man himself, but he recognizes the name instantly: Chef Zeff. “Your old man?”

Sanji nods. “He taught me how to treat women,” he explains. “How I should never raise my hand to one. How I should never fight them. Not even when I’m forced to.” The cook looks down at his bandages. “I owe him a lot.”

Zoro remains quiet for a long moment. In his mind, an image of Wado Ichimonji’s white hilt floats to the surface. “There’s a difference between how you treat women and how you fight them.”

Sanji finally looks back up at him, brows knitted in confusion. “What? Is that not the same thing?”

The faint image of Wado Ichimonji slowly fades into that of its previous owner. A young Kuina stands before him with her bokken raised, a challenging smirk on her lips. Excitement radiates off her in waves and though he cannot see the expression on his younger self’s face, he can feel the very same emotions, only heightened: determination, jealousy, and a touch of admiration.

When the silence stretches on a moment too long, the cook huffs out an impatient sigh. “Don’t you dare ignore me, asshole. What does that even mean?”

The memory fades but the emotions still linger. “It means that treating women like shit and fighting them are two completely different things. Just because you fight one doesn't mean you want ‘em dead.” Zoro scoffs. “Respect is bullshit, anyway. Doesn’t matter what people think.”

A frown warps the cook’s face; his stormy eyes are piercing. “You’re so hard to read.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. And it pisses me off.”

“You’re easy to read. That pisses me off.”

“Does it?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking then.”

Zoro shrugs. “That you’re stupid. And so is your old man.” The cook’s face darkens imperceptibly. “And that refusing to fight half the population is a pretty big fucking weakness.”

Sanji frowns. “Look, I didn’t ask for this.”

“You’re stubborn.” Another shrug. “Doesn’t matter to me, though. Just more motivation to train even harder if I’m gonna have to pick up your slack as well as the others.”

It’s bait that, for whatever reason, the cook fails to take. This surprises him but not enough to push about it. He lets the moment pass.

In the silence that follows, the cook stares down at his hands to carefully inspect them. After several moments, as if remembering something, he lets them fall abruptly back into his lap. “I owe you for what you did back there.”

Zoro certainly doesn’t expect this level of vulnerability from the cook. The guilt radiating off of him is near overwhelming. Suddenly, he wants to step outside for some fresh air or maybe pitch himself over the railing. “Call it even,” he chokes out.

“Why? I haven’t done anything for you.”

“You cook,” Zoro says like it’s the simplest thing ever.

“Yeah, that’s my job. I’m the ship’s cook.”

“So this is payment.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “I don’t do this for fucking payment.”

“You should.”

There’s a mischievous sparkle in the cook’s eyes. “Was that a… compliment?”

“No.” He wishes he could take it back.

“I think it was.”

“It wasn’t.”

The cook tsks; He looks pleased with himself. “I still owe you, though,” he says, “For what you said about the All Blue.”

“Pay me back by never forgetting it.”

The words feel heavy, almost implicit. A tension settles in the air too thick to ignore. Zoro looks hard down at the floor, urging the moment to pass.

It doesn’t. Instead, it lingers between them.

After a while, the cook clears his throat. “Sit down,” he says.

Zoro startles. “Huh?”

“You look like a dumbass over there in the corner. Sit down.”

“I was just about to leave.”

“And do what? Sleep on the deck a little longer?” The cook teases him, hiding a small smirk. “Feels like you’re hovering over me, anyway.”

Huffing, Zoro settles down on the bed near his feet. “Happy now?”

“Not unhappy now,” the cook fires back, almost too quickly for the swordsman to process. Briskly ignoring his previous comment’s implications, he moves on, “Anyway, how’d the rest of the fight go?”

It takes him a moment to remember how to respond like a normal human being. “No clue,” he says. “Luffy and Nami did most of the work. Cave’s nothing but a buncha rubble now.”

The cook nods. His voice is oddly quiet when he says, “I’m not surprised.”

Zoro sighs. “Oi. Quit it with the sad face, shitty cook.”

“I just…” The cook squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them. “...feel like I could’ve done so much more.”

Zoro thinks he can understand. He spent half his time on that damn island desperately trying to save the cook’s life. Though he trusted his nakama to handle the fight without him, it still bothered him that he wasn’t able to help much.

“So could I,” he says honestly, “But that’s how it played out. Feeling shitty about it’ll get you nowhere.”

The swordsman feels himself move as if compelled by some out-of-body force. Before he can even think to stop himself, his hand inches toward the cook’s own resting on the bed. The instant before he makes contact he seems to regain control of himself. He flinches, yanking his hand back, but it was unfortunately too late. The intent was clear as day.

The cook blinks at him for a moment, startled. Just as Zoro opens his mouth to apologize(?), he reaches forward and grabs that very same hand in his own. Tightly.

He clutches it so hard that Zoro can feel his pittering heartbeat. The cook’s expression is hidden by a curtain of his hair. There’s no need to see his face – however he’s feeling, it’s clear that he needs this.

“Tell anyone and die,” the cook chokes out after a moment. He pointedly avoids the swordsman’s eyes, staring holes into the sterilized sheets under him.

“I can do what I want,” Zoro fires back. He lets himself be a grounding presence, if that’s what he needs.

“You won’t.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Thanks,” the cook says, almost too quiet to hear.

Zoro doesn’t quite know what he’s being thanked for: his advice or what he did.

He nods anyway. “Sure.”