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*
He embarked on his journey to find and challenge one of the seven warlords of the sea. That was the idea. He had to.
Now he is lost. The villagers eye him with untrustful glare usually reserved for the bandits. He doesn't care. His stomach does.
He tries to coldly assess the situation. It's getting dark and cold, and it's just him and his swords (they're heavier with each day of restlessness, aching to test their strength and he asks them to be patient, although he shakes with the same desire).
Going back is not an option, even if he knew how, he didn’t, he doesn't, -his pride would never allow that. Home stopped being one long time ago anyway and he can now move only forward.
But he is hungry and wet and tired and alone. And so lost.
He accidentally catches a pirate, some lowly criminal stealing the booze Zoro wanted as well, and the bounty nicely covers his nondemanding living expenses and thus starting his career.
He doesn't hate pirates or anything. For him it's just a means to an end, nothing more, nothing less. No point in dwelling on the names people call him, just focus on the goal. Don't lose it.
...is this the right way?
Stowing away on ships, he wanders from town to town, collecting heads and gaining quite the reputation for his mercilessness and skills. (but it's not enough, is it?)
It goes pretty well until it doesn’t, and he ends up tied and presumably soon-to-be executed, as the boy in front of him enthusiastically explains.
'Explain' may be too strong of the word, as he doesn’t make sense in the slightest. Scrawny teenager in sandals declaring to be the future king? Yeah, right.
But he shines so brilliantly and blinds him with this certainty, inevitability, that Zoro can't help but wonder what would await him if he follows this light. A greater purpose and most likely death, as they say the devil smiles the brightest. Somehow, that prospect puts him at ease.
Maybe it's the dehydration or just plain madness, but he feels like he's on the brink of something unprecedented, and he gambles with his meaningless life. Anything beats being lost.
(It's like the sun blackmailed his shadows into obedience, and he wants nothing more than to worship it in turn.)
And now Wado isn't the only one fighting for his dream.
**
It wasn’t long before it happens again.
Maybe it was destined, maybe they weren’t meant to be.
One moment he stands right in front of him and next he flings himself at bird and disappears.
It's weird- Zoro hasn’t even moved and he feels like he is suddenly lost.
He never really minded loneliness, never after her. Although company had its merits, ultimately he cared only about one thing. He lived only for two people- of which one was already dead and the other will be for his dream to come true. The rest didn't matter. He didn't matter.
But this is different. He can't go back to surviving day by day in shadows. He tasted the sunrays and he knows where he needs to be. Where he belongs. His head no longer spins like a broken compass.
So he follows, to the best of his abilities, and in streams of blood he finds himself.
It's messy. Absolutely ridiculous. And true. He doesn’t know where this devotion, this conviction comes from. He just found it within, and every part of his being screams that he is finally on right path. And he believes.
Soon, one by one, the others join, the moths craving the flame, and to Zoro's surprise, he is willing to share. What's more, they are not here to scavenge or devour- they make the light shine even brighter and he quietly wonders if he could too. (sentimental fool, lost in distractions)
The life gets more exciting and challenging, and his swords sing with delight. They no longer want to just fight. Their need to spill the blood of those who hurt his nakama vibrates through him, and he needs to get stronger to satisfy them. He can't let them down. He found something to protect and he carefully learns their voices, their steps, their breaths. The swords become the shield.
(But then he loses again and again, each loss more crushing than previous- and he loses himself with each, and now he is lost somewhere where he shouldn’t be, far away from sun on gloomy island, where light never reaches- would never reach, would never touch him- if it weren’t for one newspaper and four symbols. He wasn't strong enough. And he is lost.)
Yoru bites him, and he almost wishes it would just swallow him whole.
***
Whenever they have a moment to relax, he goes for a stroll. This time however, he is not alone.
He welcomes the company without batting an eye. The silence that follows them is not uncomfortable, and neither of them feels the need to disturb it. Zoro knows he shouldn't be the guide but she trusts him, insisting his lack of direction will lead them to interesting places. His denial falls silent as some ruins come into view. Old rocks, the archeologist's bliss.
He observes how she meticulously runs her fingers over indentations. History speaks to her like his swords to him and aches to be heard. And she listens, her eyes glimmering with childlike wonder that was never extinguished, despite that many tried to. (In the world full of control freaks, it's a crime to be an unsupervised master.)
The clouds above them obscure the sun and he moves slightly to estimate how long before sundown. Light breeze brushes him and make the earrings chime. It’s nice. They should unwind more often.
They arrived on this island few hours ago and decided on a short break before leaving again at evening. Night sailing might be dangerous at times, but they also couldn't risk the Log Pose resetting. He'll just take the night watch and keep them safe.
The rest wait for them at the shore, probably ready to go. They should start to head back as well. He wonders if she remembers the way-
Stones aren't here. She isn't here. He lost her.
He frantically turns. Retakes his steps. Nothing.
Shit.
All the trees look the same, except none of them look like the ones before. He jolts into run.
That's not big deal. She is very capable on her own. Swords clatter against his side.
She survived all this years alone, right? (but she was supposed to be NOT alone. Never again.)
He already passed that log.
She is also pursued by the Government.
They all are. They're pirates after all, they can be attacked at any moment.
HE NEEDS TO GET BACK.
The sky turns orange.
Curse these stupid magical moving stones… (…but rocks don't move on their own)
Why did he lose her? How could he?!
He is running out of breath and his head keeps spinning. He is lost.
WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?!
He knows haki, doesn't he? So he needs to stop being fucking pathetic and use it. Focus. Focus dipshit.
Something moves and he tenses.
A hand.
Relief (and guilt, and shame- he was supposed to take care of them, and not the other way around! Pitiful, some protector he is. What if something had happened during his absence? Unforgiving, unforgiving…) washes over him as it waves and points at the next one. The living path vanishes behind bushes and he quickly follows them until Sunny welcomes him with warm glow of setting sun.
They stand on a sandy beach. An apologetic chuckle, scolding with a punch, wide grin that doesn't reach the eyes and a kick in his ribs (harder than usual, but he deserves it). They sail shortly after and Zoro forgoes the dinner.
The night is quiet and calm ( the two things his mind isn’t) and while keeping the watch, he is lost.
****
The attack came out of nowhere.
He wakes from his nap to urgent shouts and explosions. He should've been more vigilant.
He quickly gets back on his feet and unsheathes Wado. Haki points him the direction of his opponents.
They aren't particularly strong, and the clothes don't give away their affiliation of any sorts, but that doesn't stop the bombing.
He jumps up to slice the bomb in half. The order halts him midair.
Can't cut it, got it.
He manages to redirect the explosive by creating air current with swords. Blast decimates a good chunk of the riverbank they docked at.
Ship rocks on the aftermath's waves and swallows them like it's nothing, keeping them stable. She protects them better than Zoro does.
Metal arms hail her endurance and promise retaliation.
The missiles don't falter.
He has to get them away from Sunny.
Without much consideration, he leaps onto ground and rushes towards enemies. He feels the grin forming on his lips.
He allows Kitetsu to have its share of fun, but keeps the wounds relatively shallow- not enough to kill, but just right to make them regret attacking his people. Coppery tang fills the air.
Almost effortlessly he crushes their formation, destroying cannons and anything that hints at being a weapon. Clearly they didn't expect the demon to come for them.
They scatter in fear, and from its scabbard Enma urges him to chase every single one of them. He knows he shouldn't listen, indulge in fantasies of bloodthirsty sword, but for a moment, he does.
And he is lost.
The last one of them lies unconscious before him. He wipes his swords (when did he pull out all three of them?) and hangs them loosely at his hip, where they belong. Now, to get back where he belongs…
He follows the bodies he left behind. They are more of them than he thought.
He tries to not pay it any attention and sooner or later he reaches the shore.
The ship is mostly unaltered and so is the crew. They beacon him, some cheerfully, some not.
The deck is messy, but somehow almost no damage was done.
He glances about and picks up the neglected Kabuto, and silently returns it to its owner. He's hurt, he notices- a small, non-consequential injury, probably a light burn or cut from split off debris (he refuses to look closer), but it still is a wound- because Zoro wasn't here.
His stomach turns. He is about to lose its nonexistent contents.
The disappointment in him oozes of everyone and layers the deck thick- he can't face them, not right now, not when he has almost lost everything (they’re his everything, although he won’t admit it aloud).
He passes the fretting hooves circling around him, and stifling the uneasiness and wrongness of ignoring them all, he climbs the crow's nest.
Halfway through, he catches the eyes drilling into him. They should never look this sad, and yet…
He moves quicker, until the room encapsulates him, like the cage for misbehaved beast. It's fitting, he thinks.
There isn't expected much of him. He only really has one task. And he keeps failing at it.
Pathetic.
Weak.
He decides to put off his usual after battle nap (can butcher call slaughter a battle? ) and positions himself against one of the windows.
The weights call his name but he can’t move.
The commotion on the deck lessens, until eventually no one's left around, but he still watches. He won't put his guard down, even if his eye twitches and body aches from overexerting Haki. He won't sleep. He won’t fuck up again.
He can't get lost.
The night falls and he stays, hawk anticipating next prey.
*****
Loud music pulsates alongside the alcohol in his veins. He hasn't drunk much, at least by his standards, but he is feeling weirdly tipsy. He needs to keep an eye out on this bartender, she may be up to something.
Nevertheless, he picks up another bottle and leans against the exit wall, with whole interior at his sight. He has been feeling pretty rough lately, so maybe he deserves it. (he doesn't, he doesn't)
The Floating Bar Bark they stumbled across in the middle of the ocean is bustling and brimming with colors and laughs. It's nauseating.
Bark. The sole word hits him with red-hot phantom pain he knows he must never forget. How could he?
It shattered all the half-smiles he used to wear and left permanent scar on his mind, a cruel reminder he can't go back to his old, careless self if he wants to protect what he loves.
Not that he regrets anything- he would do this (and more, so much more if he could) again in a heartbeat, consequences be dammed.
He just wishes he was stronger back then. If he was, if Zoro could just bear his pain with dignity, if he wasn't such a burden after, maybe Sabaody wouldn't have ended like it did. He wouldn't have lost. And then later…
If only he was stronger. (if if if if if)
But he still isn't.
He zeroes another flask, pushing the burn deeper, back where it belongs, in his own pit of Hell, and glances around.
The room is full. Many people to keep tabs on. Maybe more than many. Now, if they would stop dancing before his eyes…
And then, in the corner, he sees it.
One guy, crowding his light.
He stumbles forward, clutching his swords. Even calm and collected Wado seems anxious. That can't be good. But again, he is not exactly sober.
Gently brushing the hilt, he tries to regain composure. It is very hard to focus.
Maybe he is overreacting. It looks like they're just talking, very closely-
The man cages Him. TOO CLOSE.
Blood buzzes, almost boils in incomprehensible rage. He never considered himself a jealous man. Possessive, maybe. But not jealous.
It's not envy, Enma whispers helpfully, that man is dangerous, you need to protect your King.
Enma is right. (it is?) ((of course, swords don't lie)) He won't fail this time.
He moves faster, uncaringly parting the sea of people, who seem to deliberately stream in onto his path. The living whirlpool leaves him breathless but he pushes through.
Somehow, he is still so far away. So lost.
So lost.
Desperation spills from him in rivers of Conqueror's Haki and drowns everything with a pin-drop silence. Everyone. Harmless people.
He can't help it. Can't control it. Pathetic. Pathetic. Pathetic.
He wheezes and doubles over, unused to the overwhelming sensation. If his stomach wasn't already empty, it certainly would be now. He feels so empty.
The clarity that comes after hits him like a whiplash, leaving him on his knees.
What have he done?
A presence appears before him. That warmth. He came to know it so dearly, wants to bask in it every occasion he's given. He loves it.
(And yet he can't raise his eye. It's Whisky Peak all over again. One moment away from mutiny. He's not g-
The voice interrupts his thoughts, speaking the words which meaning eludes him. It doesn’t matter-there's only warmth and softness with which hand caresses his head. He can get drunk on this feeling alone. Maybe he is.
The exhaustion finally catches up to him and he collapses completely under the spell.
Two strong hands land on either side of him- one bony, one webbed- and Zoro allows them to take him away -he is to fatigued, too confused and probably too drunk to deal with any of this.
Darkness embraces him, and in his restless dreams he searches for sun. He is still lost.
*
A monster. Brute. Demon. Hellhound.
He starts to understand the names people call him. He never cared really- and he still doesn't- but one thing is becoming crystal clear.
He is dangerous (after all, all he knows how to do is kill) and logically should be kept away from them- the good pirates, whose biggest crime is want for freedom.
(but he is not logical creature, there’s nothing logical about his devotion, the untethered loyalty, reverence - that seeps through his teeth, from his bloody hands, and stains)
He just needs to get stronger.
Train more. Meditate. Conquer whatever lied dormant and suddenly awoken in Wano. Cut out the distractions. Forge ahead.
Because quitting is not an option, because he is selfish like that and he won't ever leave them without his protection.
As much as they hate him, resent him, treat him like a beast (if they don't now, they will, soon -he doesn't mind) they would have try to chase him away -and he would still linger around the corner, at their feet, ready to bite on command.
He made a promise. He will stay by his side till the crown falls to its rightful place and all the dreams that follow will come true in its wake- then, only then hell can (and will) reclaim him.
Until then, he can't rest.
Like an agitated animal, he bounces from railing to railing, from port to starboard.
It's been bothering him for a while now. He feels tired. Sore. Weak. Weaker.
He was never one to doubt himself, but lately these thoughts don't seem to shut up ( so he is weak, overpowered by his own mind)- maybe he is sick? Or going mad. Or just pathe-
"Zoro!"
His feet move involuntarily towards the upper deck and pass the helm. It is left unattended. The waters must be calm. Are they approaching new island? He needs to be extra wary then…
"Zo-roo, hi" Luffy peaks at him from behind Sunny's mane and beams at him brightly, with sun softly backlighting his slender figure and Zoro must stop himself from squinting, from looking away- he needs to see him, even at the price of being blind in his good eye. "Come sit with me."
…At the special seat? No- that's- he can't-…
But the outstretched rubber hand dangles in front of him expectantly and he cannot not take it, and lets himself be thrust on top of figurehead, right at his captain. He welcomes him in embrace with laughter and stumbles at the impact, almost sending them both to the eager ocean's depths- instead they fall against each other, and Zoro breathlessly wonders how lucky he is. After catching their breath they shift a bit, making themselves more cozy on Sunny's head that is surprisingly spacious, just enough for two people to sit and uncomfortably stare face to face.
And so they stare, with waves crushing against ship making up the ambiance and pretending the silence isn't suffocating, Luffy studying him like he is one rare bug. A Hercules beetle, perhaps.
"Wanted to see me captain?"
"Mhm. I've missed Zoro."
Saying 'been here all along' suddenly feels like a lie, so he doesn't. Fortunately, Luffy gets bored easily (or maybe just finds what he's been looking for) and settles down on Zoro's lap. It’s better that way. There's nothing to talk about. They can just…quietly appreciate the view. Yeah.
And what a view it is- beautiful in its simplicity, layers upon layers of blue unfolding way beyond horizon. Endless whispers of salty promises, of adventure and freedom bubbling with every stronger wave. He takes a deep breath and it feels like it’s been forever since his lungs were full.
Luffy, apparently satisfied, chuckles lightly and leans further into his chest, resting his head on Zoro's shoulder. The hat covers most of his face when he speaks again with voice softer and almost gentle.
"Ace had these too." And Zoro must look very dumb, because Luffy playfully pulls his cheek as he continues. "Days when brain gets mean?- at least Sabo called it that."
"it's nothi-" The famous strawhat lands on his head, effectively silencing him. He doesn't remember if he actually had it on before, but it feels heavy. And like home. The feeling is raw and rips him open, right at conjunction that splits his chest, like light itself crawls under his skin and runs in his veins, finally nesting in his heart.
"No Zoro, it's not nothing." There's seriousness in his eyes usually reserved for when one of them is in danger or he faces dangerous opponent. Or both. And Zoro just watches in astonishment. "But Zoro is enough- no, more than enough- and he is strong like SUPER STRONG strong and the only one I need. Zoro is Zoro. And he is not alone. Get it?"
Oh.
He knew these things. Of course he did. Just somehow, forgot about them, lost their meaning, muted them out. Not sure.
But he gets it now.
It doesn't like miraculously fix anything, it doesn't even hint him where to start. Like he's been untied from the pole barely a moment ago.
But the thoughts are quieter and he nods. Like before, he simply needs to follow the sun.