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“Heeeyy!” Someone bangs on his door, voice all too familiar. Another bang, and another. “ Zoorooooo !”
Zoro groans, rolling to face the other side of the couch and with it, the very unfortunate cans of beer get squashed under his weight. His eyes, bleary but open, notice the daylight seeping into the curtains. And oh, shit, he thinks. It’s morning already?
“Hey!” Another, much higher voice kicks the door, this time in utter fury. “You better start hiding before I kick your sorry ass!”
“Where’s his stupid key?”
“He has a key?—”
“Under the rug, perhaps—”
An array of mumbling, and then Zoro’s finally starting realise what’s happening.
Oh shit.
Suddenly, and so very conveniently, all his decisions from yesterday decide to make themselves known in his memory.
And he hadn’t meant to ignore them all weekend, really. He powered his phone off like what, a day ago? It had only been 48 hours since he had faced the utter shame and humiliation of placing third in his kendo tournament, the very thought of it making him want to rip the hair from his roots and grip at the skin on his face.
It had been such a humble reminder of how he wasn’t good enough. Even through those weeks of training, even with all the people who had purely believed in him. He’s let himself down with this one. And probably all the people that believed in him too. He’s gripped at his face too much this weekend, he can feel the swell.
The door handle writhes behind the incorrect keys, attempting to force their way in. Suddenly, Zoro is fully awake and very aware. He has only a few seconds to conjure a plan. He’ll make a break for the bathroom. Yeah. Good plan.
Zoro gets up on his legs and they immediately give in beneath him—
Then the door busts open with a loud, loud bang. Luffy stands there in all his glory and behind him, 7 other heads poke out, wearing so many expressions he’ll have to explain himself to. Good fucking lord.
“Zoroooo!” Luffy grins impossibly wide; signature Luffy-style. He sprints and dives right into his lap, knowing that Zoro will catch him. And he does. He lets Luffy clamber all over his shoulders, and Chopper is quick to join in the fray with one big bear hug.
Nami stomps over with a plastic bag swinging in her grip, kicking each can of beer in her way with intimidating power. She looms over him when he’s at her feet. A lingering frown, a thinking mind.
Then she sinks to the floor and sits beside him. Her arms are crossed and her face is even crosser—Zoro almost wants her to tell him off, to lecture him to hell like she always does when he’s being stupid, but she keeps her mouth shut. Zoro can see a few water bottles and onigiri inside the bag she brought, one already half eaten to the core and probably done by Luffy.
Sanji—already breaking the no-smoking rule of his apartment as soon as the door locks behind them—drops the four bags of groceries onto the island revealing an assortment of fresh looking vegetables and meat.
“At least open the windows or something. It stinks like shit in here—“
“I got you bro!” Franky waves before Zoro can get up himself, rolling up the blinds to show off the day. It makes Zoro squint, the sky is so damn bright, even when it’s raining.
“What he means to say,” Usopp swivels to glare at Sanji, who already has his focus on the pork. “Is that you need some fresh air.”
“Certainly! We all need it, Zoro-san.” Brook comments somewhere, already chopping the green onions with impossible precision.
“’m—“ He tries, and fails, because Zoro doesn’t really want to look at any of them. He opts for looking at the crumpled beer can, which is quickly picked up by Chopper and Usopp, along with rest of them. It’s a little silly he’s only feeling guilty now. “Sorry. Was tired.”
Luffy laughs, too bright. “Zoro’s fine.” His limbs dangle in the air, all up in his face and Zoro can’t really make an effort to shove them away. Then Luffy makes a face, one he tends to make when he’s serious. “Next time he should tell us. We were all worried, yeah?”
“Yeah right,” Nami mumbles under her lips, not unkind, like an afterthought. “He’s so damn stubborn, I’ll bet he’d be passed out somewhere before he could tell us a single thing.”
“Well now,” Another voice behind him, Robin smiles to him on the couch with her leg crossed and chin resting on her hand. “I suppose we’ll just have to keep meeting like this, barging into his home. Isn’t that right?”
Zoro cringes, pulling a face that makes her laugh. “I’m alright.”
“Of course!” Luffy beams at the same time. He pulls at Zoro’s cheek, pinching and stretching like a stress toy. “Zoro will be number one no matter what. And that’s okay if it’s not today.”
Zoro sighs, hanging his head low and accepting defeat for now. In the background, they run amok in his home. He really should’ve expected something like this, he thinks. Sanji tends to the meat, sizzling on his stove while Usopp and Franky hold a race to see who can open the most windows. Nami’s fiddling with his TV remote and Robin’s already found herself a book to read for the afternoon, making it clear they aren’t going anywhere. They’re seriously impossible. Zoro’s apartment is far too small for the 9 of them, but he does feel a little lighter when the air lets in.
Somehow, they make it work that day. They eat lunch and their antics stretch into the evening, 32 Mario Kart rounds in before they start passing out, one by one.
Zoro lets himself get dragged into the mundanity of it all, the dimmed lights illuminating on their peaceful faces as they rest.
And if he starts to feel (god, he hates feeling), the warmth and the undeniable joy he gets, just by being around them, well. He makes sure not tell anybody.
(Although, they probably know that already.)