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He probably doesn’t notice it; He’s pacing on the deck rubbing his hand against the gnarled X on his chest—scratching and picking at the mangled flesh. If he stops, it’s to look at his hands—staring at them for a beat before trying to wipe them furiously on his shorts. Once, he stretched and lowered his hands off the side of the ship and into the sea, curling in on himself and slumping against the rail as the salt of the sea zapped his strength until someone came to pull him away from the edge, reeling in his arms like fishing line from the depths.
He mumbles a bit incoherently—words like “don’t leave me” and “you promised” along with mutterings of the name of his late brother. This happens most often after he wakes with a choked scream in his throat. Silently and abrupt—no one notices—or rather they pretend not to. He had thought it would be better to keep this close to his mangled chest. There was no need to bother the rest of the crew.
Always the exception—Zoro wakes. And it’s Zoro who follows him onto the deck to make sure Luffy’s mind doesn’t fail him. Zoro wouldn’t be able to tell you if Luffy knows he’s there half the time. His mind seems so far away during these nights. Always night, when the world seems to stop, Luffy’s seems to reverse. Chopper had told them, the crew, that it was related to stress, or something like that—a trauma induced response to an event that none of them had a part of. Zoro didn’t really get it. He had his fair share of demons, had met his fair share of challenging opponents, but Zoro had always made it out unscathed. Luffy had once been able to say the same. The underdog underestimated but coming out on top every time. But they hadn’t been there to see his biggest failure. Zoro wasn’t there. And it ate at him every time he woke to Luffy’s thrashing in his bed.
Franky had built a captain’s quarters before he knew the man Luffy was. A simple room—nice size bed, wardrobe for some clothes, a desk with shelving above and private bath off to the side. It went mostly unused. But since the war, Luffy could sometimes be found there staring out of the port hole, curled in on himself in an attempt to be smaller. The first time he had done this the crew worried. They couldn’t find him on the ship and feared he had dropped into the depths of the ocean. Robin had sprouted eyes in every nook and cranny until she found his figure, knees to chest on the soft sheets of the bed. Zoro had been the one to go after him.
Hed approached Luffy with confidence—unlike how someone would approach a wounded animal, but then again Zoro was no stranger to the hunt. Seeing Luffy like that felt wrong, and Zoro had felt out of his depth. His captain was strong and infallible. His captain was the man who would be king. But here, in the dim light from the porthole to the side of the bed, surrounded by owned but somehow unfamiliar walls, his captain looked every bit the age he truly was.
They didn’t talk. Instead, Zoro sat there on the edge of the bed, pulling Luffy’s head down to rest on his shoulder. Sides touching, Zoro could feel every shaking breath of his captain. It wasn’t until Luffy’s eyes drifted shut and his breathing settled that Zoro even realized he was holding his own.
He watched him now—Luffy pacing on the deck, frantic hands rubbing together in a frenzy, pulling at his hair, scratching t his chest, brushing against the side seams of his shorts—and something in his chest ached.
It continued on like this, Luffy pacing, hands moving almost like he was performing a ritual until one night when Zoro’s world almost changed for good. He had awoken to Luffy’s leaving the room. Zoro slept soundly most nights, most days—in the frequency of his naps, but his instinct was impeccable when it came to his captain, and so, if his captain was in danger, then Zoro would be at his back. This time the danger was Luffy himself.
He had made it to the deck in time to see Luffy at the head of the ship, standing tall on the figurehead. It was an unspoken rule that Luffy not sit in his favorite spot at night or alone. The dangers of the sea ever threatening. So, when Zoro saw him there alone, standing rather than sitting, something rang alarm bells in his head. It felt like slow motion to watch as Luffy spread his arms and dove headfirst into the sea.
Zoro let out a scream, immediately jumping into the chilled waters after his Captain. He prayed someone had heard him as they could easily lose the ship in the darkness, but there had been no time to rouse anyone else. His Captain was sinking.
Praise whatever gods may be that Zoro had learned Haki. Luffy’s aura, usually so bright, was steadily dimming. But in the darkness of the waters of the night, it was all Zoro had to focus on. He kicked his legs harder to push himself further down. Luffy was sinking, and Zoro was the only one around.
He felt around blindly until his hand brushed against something smooth, the feeling of Luffy’s Leg, soft and cold. He grabbed at anything he could and started to swim upwards. His chest was burning. Almost not soon enough, Zoro breached the surface with Luffy in tow, thrown over his shoulder. The ship was there. It had met them, Franky at the helm and Usopp the rail, goggles over his eyes pointing at the two of them bobbing in the waves. They threw down a rope and hoisted their wayward crewmates out of the water. Flopping unceremoniously onto the deck, Chopper immediately ran over and started chest compressions on Luffy while the crew held their breath. Nami came over and threw a towel over Zoro’s bare shoulders as he shivered, never once letting his eye leave Luffy’s figure being pounded into by furry hands.
He coughed. Saltwater forcing its way past his lips, as his doctor turned him over onto his side to avoid choking it back down. Forcing himself up onto his forearms in an attempt to sit up, Luffy met the eyes of his crew, of the ones he had sworn to protect, all in verifying states of undress looking much more awake than they should at this time of night.
“Sorry guys! I guess I fell in!” He laughed, smile creasing lines into his cheeks. A collective breath swept through the crew as Nami began to berate him for making them worry, and suddenly the crew felt light again, jovial and joking. Brushing off Luffy’s brush with death as they always did. Nothing could defeat their captain, not even death itself. And so, they slowly made their way to the cabins to get some more rest, Sanji disappearing into the kitchen to get a head start on breakfast as he was already awake, leaving Luffy laughing from his seat on the deck and Zoro sitting near him, eyes never leaving the joyful figure of his captain.
And this is what Zoro doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand how Luffy sits there and smiles, laughs and reassures the crew, right after he dove himself face first into the sea seemly with the intent to end it all. And it pains Zoro something fierce to have the realization that this is normal for Luffy. There’s been something different in his captain since he returned. A sureness in the line of his shoulders, a steadiness in the timbre of his voice, the confidence of a man who will rise to the top—one who acts like he already sits there. But sometimes, Zoro gets a glimpse at someone else. Something pained and wounded. And it eats at him.
See, if you asked him, he would avoid answering. Turning his head to avert his gaze. Lowering his eyes to hide emotions he still grappled with himself from being seen in them. Sometimes, the crew would tease him, in their own little ways—fond looks and playful gesturing, but they let him have this, whatever this thing was between him and his captain. A curling, writing ball of something screaming not to be ignored flaring in his gut. But he ignored it all the same, tucked it away in the deepest crevices of his heart, so close to his own muscle that he failed to tell it from his own. An impossible separation.
He felt it more even now. Luffy laughing, dripping wet on the deck of the ship, hiding his true emotions from the rest of the crew. Zoro saw right through him.
He could see the lines of his smile on his cheeks not reaching his eyes. Could hear the tense squeak of his laugh. And it caused something in him to ache.
The crew had retired, but Luffy still sat, shivering in the chill of the night. Zoro stood and draped the towel that Nami had thrown over his shoulders onto those of his captain and placed a large hand onto Luffy’s hatless head. “Come on,” He finds himself saying, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
A beat passes before Luffy responds, slowly standing, pulling the towel closer around his shoulders and nodding at Zoro. They walked to the bath, Zoro filling the tub when they got there, while Luffy stripped himself of his clothes. It would far be it the first or last time he had seen his captain naked. But Zoro’s eyes couldn’t leave Luffy’s body. Scars littered his skin. The most prominent being the X on his chest that he proudly displayed to the world, as if to say “You can’t take me down that easily.” But it’s these scars that bring a taste to Zoro’s mouth akin to fruit rinds. A bitter acknowledgement that he wasn’t there when Luffy needed him the most.
They lowered themselves into the warm suds. Zoro had used some of Nami’s bubble bath—something he knew she would raise his debt over if she ever found out—but he figured it was a special occasion. His captain deserved the best.
It was rare for Luffy to be so quiet. He was loud and unapologetic in everything he did. It was something that Zoro loved about him. But Zoro also loved these moments. Moments where Luffy could be vulnerable. It was something very few people saw, and Zoro was eternally grateful that he was one of those special few.
“I’m sorry.” Breaks the silence. Zoro glancing over at his captain in surprise. His head was lowered, and his hand was making swirls in the bubbles floating on top of the water.
“What for?” Zoro asks, already knowing the answer. But Luffy doesn’t respond. Instead, he lets his head fall onto the shoulder of his swordsman and brings his hand back from its swirling task and up to his chest, gripping the mark of his failures.
“I’m glad you weren’t there.” Luffy ends up saying, eyes distant and lame.
“I should have been” Zoro responds, a bitterness to his words. “I tried so hard to get to you.” And it was true. The instance Zoro found himself on that gloomy island, he tried to leave. Tried to find his captain. Find the crew, yes, but his captain needed him. But the ghost girl had seen him, blood seeping out of his many bandages and almost knocked him out cold in an attempt make him see some sense. He should be grateful, because of her he stayed and got stronger. Because of her insistence of his weakness, he got to meet his greatest rival once again, but at that point it had been too late.
There was a war Zoro should have been a part of. A plan of a prison break and rescue mission that his captain should not have had to do alone. And Zoro knew that one day he would have many new allies to thank for the safety of his captain, but it didn’t stop Zoro from hating himself that he wasn’t there to fight alongside them.
When Mihawk had told him that Luffy was missing—that he had been taken from the fight by an unexpected arrival, Zoro felt relief. Even though Mihawk had told him that his captain was probably dead, Zoro didn’t believe it for a moment. Something in him told himself that it wasn’t Luffy’s time to die yet, and so Zoro persisted in his recovery.
3D2Y
Zoro knew an order when he saw one. And Zoro followed orders from his captain. But the idea of being away from him for so long nearly broke him. It was with a single-minded focus that he threw himself at the feet of his greatest rival and then threw himself into training. He would see his captain again, and when he did, he would be worthy of standing by his side, of watching his back—strong enough to never leave again.
“No.” Was Luffy’s response, but that one word held so much weight, “You shouldn’t have been.” Luffy moved his hand from his chest to find Zoro’s own under the water, grounding him. “The war was,” A pause, Luffy trying to find words he’s unfamiliar with, “It was hell.”
Zoro swallowed, gripping Luffy’s hand in his own like lifeline, “I’d follow you to hell if you’d let me.”
“I know.” Luffy says and it’s tinted with a grin that fades when he continues, “Which is why I’m glad you weren’t there.”
And Zoro didn’t really know what to say to that except for, “Tell me about it?”
“I’ve never liked fire.” Luffy said after a beat. Which caught Zoro by surprise. Luffy was never one to turn down a good campfire. Some of his fondest memories involved a good party after a well-fought battle. Zoro hummed, and Luffy pressed on, “When I was younger, there was a trash dump where me and my brothers used to play. One day, there was a big fire and a lot of people died. Ace and I were trapped in it. I still remember the feeling of smoke in my lungs.”
There was a lot to take from that revelation. First off, Luffy had said brothers, but Zoro only knew of Ace—the only brother Luffy ever spoke of. The one he risked his life for. Zoro wondered what happened to the other. The trash dump was also surprising, just not as much so. Luffy rarely talked about himself or his childhood, but Zoro could picture Luffy picking apart the garbage to find cool treasures.
“It was hot. So hot. I don’t think I’d ever been that hot before. I just cried. I was a big crybaby back then! Ace used to always make fun of me for it. It’s funny…Ace ended up being made of fire, but that was different. Ace is ace. His fire would never hurt me.” Zoro rubbed his thumb against the back of Luffy’s hand, a silent nudge to continue.
“Marineford was different. Guns and cannons and devil fruits and fighting and dying. There were so many dying. I was out of my league.” Luffy wrapped his leg to be intertwined with Zoro’s, continuing, “Whitebeard said as much too. But I told him I was going to be king of the pirates, so I was going to fight too.”
He fell silent again. Luffy had never been one for talking much—or rather he was one for talking, just about everything but himself and his demons—so it was a bit unsettling to hear him in such rare form. Zoro simply stared at him from the corner of his eye, focusing on the black waves heavy with condensation.
“Akainu.” Luffy spoke in a near growl. “That’s who did this to me. He’s the one who….” And he didn’t have to finish the thought. Zoro already knew. Akainu, new admiral of the fleet, rose to prevalence and favor among the more loyalist recruits with his murder of the son of the pirate king. It was all over the papers. It was all anyone talked about for months. Mihwak had told him as much—“Akainu put his fist through Fire Fist’s chest. He died in his brother’s arms.”—and Zoro had felt rage. He could hear it in Luffy’s voice too.
“I’ll kill him” Zoro finds himself saying, and it causes his captain to laugh. It’s tense, but it’s a laugh, nonetheless.
“Silly Zoro. That fight’s mine.” It fell silent again after that. The water growing tepid as Zoro racked his brain trying to find some words to comfort? Or no that didn’t seem right. Maybe reassurance would be better, but nothing came to mind that would help with the gravity of the situation. His captain had tried to end it all, and he would have succeeded had Zoro not been there.
But there was an innate truth in this life. Where Luffy went, Zoro would follow.
“Can you promise me something, Luffy?” Zoro asked, having found his voice. Luffy just hummed in acknowledgement. “Don’t go where I can’t follow you again. I don’t think I could take it.” Zoro said showing his vulnerability only in the presence of his captain.
Luffy just hummed again and nuzzled his head further into the crook of his swordsman’s’ shoulder. It fell silent, but Zoro didn’t need a response to know Luffy’s answer.
“Rayleigh told me that it gets better.” He began, “But it doesn’t feel like it. I thought that being back with the crew would help, but…”
“We’re all here for you Luffy; you don’t have to always be the strong one. You can lean on us, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” A wistfulness to his voice, “But that doesn’t make it easier.”
“No, it doesn’t. But we’ll be here until it does.” The water was increasingly cool now, just on the edge of bearable, and they both silently agreed it was time to get out. Luffy released Zoro’s hand with a squeeze and stood shakily, exhaling as he did so. Zoro followed suit and they grabbed towels to dry themselves off. It didn’t change the fact that their clothes were still wet with saltwater, but luckily every member had a robe in the bathhouse. Seeing no better option, they gathered themselves in robes and headed back across the deck to the men’s quarters, stopping long enough to put on some dry clothes. As Zoro was about to climb into his bunk, Luffy’s hand reached out to grab his own once more in a silent plea not to. Zoro glanced back at his captain and didn’t even have to ask before he followed Luffy back out the door to the direction of the captain’s quarters.
They made it to the simple room in silence. But they had never needed words to communicate. Luffy crawled onto the bed, still hand in hand with Zoro who climbed on beside him. Zoro wrapped his body around his captain, holding him close. It wasn’t enough to fix him for good, but it was a good start.
Wrapped in the arms of his swordsman, Luffy drifted asleep, falling into peaceful dreams for the first night in a long time.