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The Olympics. His lifelong dream. He’d dedicated a good chunk of his life to training, to prepare himself physically and mentally to be here. Hour upon countless hours of practice. And yes, of course there were times when he had doubts, when he wondered if he would ever be good enough to be considered worthy to represent his country. But all that was behind him, his being in this room–akin to a sacred sanctuary–with another member of his team was all the proof anyone should need. Roronoa Zoro would be the best diver in the world. He would take that gold medal. Or, well, he would keep it home.
The Opening Ceremony had been entertaining, sure, but too much on the loud side for Zoro’s taste. He was proud to be the flagbearer for his country, and he didn’t want to let his coach down but really all he wanted to do was go to his room and sleep.
That turned out to be the trickiest thing to want. Between people coming and going, and their talking animatedly in every language imaginable, it was hard for Zoro to focus on finding his way. He ended up in the rooms assigned to the Vanuatu judo team at one point, and in a pantry at another; he grabbed a package of cookies and kept going. Thirty minutes later he finally made it to the right building, the place that would be his home for the next few weeks.
The lights were off and Zoro’s roommate had a sleep mask and earplugs on and was snoring when he came in. He was tired, but before allowing himself a much needed rest, Zoro sat cross-legged in bed, eyes closed, going through the list of dives he would perform for the qualification round. This took the better part of the next hour. He knew the sequence by heart of course, he could climb that platform in his sleep and perform a forward 4 ½ somersaults in tuck position, but he didn’t want to leave anything to chance. But he could allow himself a little indulgence, couldn’t he? He tore open the package of cookies as quietly as he could and he ate one.
Finally, just as he turned on his side and closed his eyes, something woke him up. Something nothing could have prepared him for.
The ungodly noise coming from the room next door.
‘Hi! Sanji here, from Spain’s Taekwondo team!’
A second voice joined in.
‘What’s up? This is Usopp. Archery.’
The first voice spoke again.
‘And tonight we're gonna make a video showing you all the things that can be done on an anti-sex bed! Let's start with jumping jacks.’
And sure enough, a second later it sounded as though that was exactly what they were doing.
Zoro waited. Maybe it would just take them a few seconds.
Maybe not.
Ten minutes later they were having a pillow fight. Zoro threw his own pillow at the wall but all it managed was a muffled thud as it slipped to the floor. He didn’t even want to get up to pick the pillow up. He didn’t want to be the killjoy but he had a qualification round the next day and…
The guys next door burst into laughter. Had they managed to break the bed?
Fuming, Zoro stood up and stormed to their room. Still, he knocked as politely as he could rather than kicking the door in which was what he’d wanted to do.
‘Hi, I’m Zoro from Japan’s Diving team,’ he said mocking their introductions. ‘And I'm hearing your racket from my room. I have a very early start tomorrow so can you shut up?’
‘Hi Zoro! I’m Usopp,’ the young man with dreadlocks who opened the door informed him, and then pointed to a blond man currently jumping from bed to bed. ‘Sorry, man. It’s just that I was telling Sanji here that it’s a shame they gave us cardboard beds that would break if… you know.’
Zoro looked from Usopp to Sanji, realized he was staring at Sanji, and returned his gaze to Usopp.
‘What? Who told you the beds would break?’
‘Well, I mean it’s not like cardboard is exactly sturdy–’
‘Hey!’ The blond man had apparently finished his test and he joined Usopp by the door, leaning on the door frame. He gave Zoro a once-over and the corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. ‘Sorry about the noise. See, Usopp? I told you that was a lie.’
‘I never lie!’ Usopp huffed. ‘I just told you what I heard.’ Usopp turned around to go back into the room, leaving Sanji and Zoro at the door.
‘Aha.’ Sanji turned his attention back to Zoro. ‘So, diving huh? Are you ready? Like, hundred percent ready, if they called you right now you’d just.’ Sanji used his hands to mimic someone diving.
Why was this blond himbo questioning him?
‘Of course I’m ready,’ Zoro said, mildly offended.
‘Right, it’s just that you’ve got.’ Sanji pointed at Zoro’s face, then his own. ‘Nevermind, just let me.’ And then he spat on a corner of his shirt and used it to wipe something off Zoro’s face. Zoro was beyond shocked. ‘Chocolate?’ Sanji asked. ‘Is that part of your Olympic diet? I wish I were you.’
The stupid cookie he’d eaten earlier. Zoro was still too shell-shocked to articulate a response so he shrugged.
‘So. Your qualification round is tomorrow, right?’ Sanji asked.
Zoro nodded, realized he hadn’t said anything in a minute so he added: ‘Yes.’ In the less curtly way he could (which still sounded curt).
‘We’ll be there to cheer for you!’ Sanji grinned, excitement clear on his face, as if he had known Zoro for ages and was eager to see him compete. ‘It’ll be easy to spot you. I like your hair, algae vibes, but works on you. Well, we’ll let you catch some sleep now.’ Sanji offered his hand and Zoro took it, a peace offering. ‘And hey, maybe you can help me test a bed some other day?’ Sanji asked when Zoro had already turned on his heel.
Had he heard right? Was the himbo blatantly flirting with him? He summoned all his willpower not to turn back around all flustered, which was how he felt. He wasn’t sure if his face wasn’t red, so he didn’t look back at Sanji.
‘Maybe,’ Zoro said simply before walking to his room as calmly as he could, thanking his coach for all those mindfulness techniques. Although, it would take more than that to drive the image of Sanji’s smile from his mind.