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Zoro woke with pain.
It wasn't anything new to him or to his body to feel hurt, the magical novelty of injuries had long subdued, but this time he felt that motherfucker's power really took a toll on his system. As much on the inside as on the outside.
It was hard to even open his eyes, lids heavy like mountains of bricks placed upon his eyes and Zoro, for once gave up a battle with his own body and stayed as he was, listening.
As unusual it was he was surrounded by near silence. It was some time ago when he last experinced this type of quietness; meeting with Luffy and the rest put an abrupt stop to anything convenient and serene, not that he mourned the loss.
But odd as it was, Zoro welcomed the peace, sinking into the comfort of the bed and the darkness. It was easy enough to tell it was night, as no ray of light or brightness tried to press itself violently through his lids.
Without his sight, Zoro concentrated on his other senses, feeling around.
He felt a heavy blanket thrown over his body, his arms laying carefully next to it, above the covers. There was a tightness around him, a constant pressure and the familiar but rather restricting fabric of bandages told Zoro he was patched up by Chopper. By now, he knew how their doctors operated and for once, Zoro really was thankful for him.
That calming quiet was interrupted from time to time by a crackling, the only sound coming through the throbbing headache and the slight thrumming in his ears, a fire burning close to him. Zoro felt the heat radiating against his legs, his toes sticking out from under the cover, were warm from the blaze.
If Zoro weren't in any pain, he would take this as a blissfull night, abroad the Sunny with a sake in arms length. But he wasn't because they were on...
Zoro shot up, groaned and nearly vomited from the nausea, which he didn't know until now was on his list too.
Thriller Bark...
Kuma.
Dispite the waves of sickish feeling climbing up his throat, Zoro looked around hastily, eyes searching for his crew, scanning over the unknown bodies, gaze finally settling on the motley pile of familiar hair, face and limb mass.
He let out a sigh he was holding in and tried not to fall back into the makeshift bed, being a hundred percent sure if he did that, he would definitely throw up. And albeit he wanted to make sure everyone was okay, even he was repelled by the idea to be hugged with his own mess, if they woke up to the retching sound.
He watched his crew sleeping, counting them slowly, noticing a missing goldish colour.
Zoro slowly pulled up his knees, resting his elbows on them, supporting his head in his palms.
"That fucker," he slowly breathed as his fingers felt up the bandages wrapped around his head. It seemed Chopper tried to outright mummify him with that much lint.
His thoughts took a backturn from the cook, just to arrive again at Kuma.
He was still alive and he saw Luffy right on top of Franky, with his arms stretched around Chopper a few times, so that meant he succeeded, which was good, albeit his body was strongly objecting against the word 'good'.
Zoro felt his body intact, but he didn't know how much his insides have suffered, that talk would come from their doctor in the following hours. He was sure what the little reindeer would tell him to take it easy and chew his ears off, but this whole ordeal only proved one thing:
He was not strong enough.
If he was, he would remember what had happened, he would have lived it through with a few scratches, a here and there wound and not with a full body bondage and seas knows how many hours of unconsciousness.
Shame was creeping up his throat but he swallowed it back with the rising up bile too. He had no time for self-pity, he needed to focus on getting better as soon as he could get out of this bed.
The castle around him was more hole than wall, the moonlight shining in softly through the cracks, and with the fire close it gave more than enough bright to see. Zoro lifted his head just enough to see his crew and let his gaze wash over them again, searching for any bandage, wound, plaster, anything that indicates serious injuries.
White lined limbs were there, but as far az Zoro could tell, they were good and most importantly, Luffy was without anything, only in his usual shorts, vest and inevitable hat.
Zoro was relieved and continued watching his nakamas with a tiny content smile when he smelled the familiar scent, the aroma of nicotine settling inside his nostrils, squarely announcing the coming of the missing colour's owner. A moment later Zoro heard those fancy shoes softly clinking through the debris and seconds later their cook arrived inside the building, finding himself face to face with the newly conscious swordsman.
Zoro watched as the cook's steps faltered when their eyes locked on each other but he collected himself, mask clicking over his face as he kept walking, albeit a little stiff, not breaking their eye contact. He kept casually smoking his cigarette, tossing it to the side a few feet from Zoro. He wanted to appear nonchalant but Zoro saw how his shoulders tensed under that blue hoodie, which he had never seen.
It looked strikingly good on the cook, reducing him to an authentic teenager, the blues of the fabric bringing out his eyes further, which in the burning firelight appeared, Zoro had no other word, dangerous. He knew that look well and he had no idea why he was met with it.
The buzzing in his ears were slowly fading and his headache wasn't torturing him as much when he woke.
Small mercies.
Still, he only followed the cook's movements with his eyes, head still resting on his hands.
"You up?" Sanji's voice was tight.
"Nah, you are hallucinating," Zoro snorted at the stupid question. Of course he was up, he was sitting on the bed right in front of the other. The cook just rolled his eyes.
"Seems your mold infected brain works at least. Should I wake Chopper?" Zoro met head on with the hard stare.
"No. Let him sleep," it wasn't even a question, the boy deserved a rest too.
"Right. You need anything?" Despite the tension radiating from the blond, his questions were genuine.
"Booze?" Zoro was hopeful, but Sanji just bared his teeth.
"Ass," he hissed.
"Nah, not right now," maybe that Kuma did something to his brain too, he weren't supposed to say some things.
"What?" Sanji yell-whispered, gaping like a fish, blinking at Zoro with a queer look in his visible eye.
"Nothing," Zoro replied fast, but the blond's expression instanly soured and pressed his mouth into a thin line. He only nodded.
Zoro took a minute to really look at Sanji, looking beyond the hoodie, which clearly took a portion of his mind.
The man was tired, that was evident. He carried himself as usual, but he sported bags under his eyes, lint was peeking out of his sleeves and his head was wrapped quite a few times just below his hairline.
His shoulders relaxed, but curled forward and despite his natural pose was spot on, his hands inside his pockets were tapping rapidy against his legs.
The man was pent up over something and Zoro needed air.
"A walk would be good," he muttered, turning sideways, to put his feet on the ground and Sanji was kind enough to kick his boots towards him. His swords were next to him and Zoro reached for Wadō, not parting with her.
"Think you can manage?" Genuine, again. Zoro pushed his feet into his worn boots, grunting as he stood, swaying in the process. The cook grabbed his left, steadying him, then suddly released him as if Zoro's arm burned him.
A memory of bloodied hand sliding off his left zipped through Zoro.
The speed with which he jerked his neck towards Sanji, stirred up his stomach again. Breathing through his nose, clutching his sword in hand, he started walking to where the cook came from, with Sanji right next to him, at arms length, watching out for his wobbly legs. They didn't even stepped through the imaginary threshold, when Sanji pulled out his pack and lit another cig. Zoro eyed the stick for a moment, oscillating, heading to a bigger chunk of wall a little further, still intact. As pathetic as it was to admit, he needed to sit. Not that he would ever say that out loud, especially not it this company.
The courtyard, if that was where they were, was a disaster after their clash. Rubble everywhere, bricks scattered around nearly every piece of surface, bridges broken down, walls, towers missing, greyish, bandaged legs, arms and even heads sticking out like morbid flowers from the offals.
It really wasn't a life insurance for those who opposed Luffy and his crew.
Zoro sat down, without a sound for which he was proud of himself while Sanji stood before him, blowing smoke over Zoro's head.
"Care to share one?" Sanji really was pent up as he nearly dropped the cigarette from his fingers. He squinted his eyes as he looked at Zoro, calculating.
"What, any vice'll do, just get one?" He asked, but held out his hand, waiting for Zoro to take the offering.
Zoro again held Sanji's gaze.
The cook was giving mixed signals, confusing Zoro, like he was missing a part.
It was a fact, that he couldn't remember much from the whole ordel with Kuma, only that he offered himself instead of Luffy, but after that...fog and darkness.
Yet the cook was acting like something important happened, but shut his mouth, not saying a word, just glaring daggers. Still he was kind as always, not that Zoro was usually at the recieving end, their banter still there, but a wall was up, hardened with hurt and anger lurking behind it.
Zoro knew the blond enough - even if they only knew each other since a few weeks ago - to be able to pick apart his emotions, even though he was a brilliant actor, Zoro must give him that.
It bugged him.
Their name callings and rumpus were always corollary of something stupid, a small push, a tiny rile up, anything to piss off the other and from then on the path was free, but this was deeper, new.
Those were for fun, this was serious.
Zoro took the smoke and lifted to his lips, waiting to inhale and nothing.
It was somehow out...
He looked up sheepishly to Sanji, who scoffed and produced his lighter, bending forward. He motioned for Zoro, to put it back to his lips and the cook curled his hand around the smoke, creating the barrier for the tiny light. The soft glow illuminated the lower part of the blond's face, further deepening the circles under his eyes.
His eyes.
For a moment Zoro saw both his eyes and was taken aback from it. It wasn't something particular or extraordinary, no shit, nearly everyone had two eyes, but the cook kept it hidden like a secret.
It was a normal, vibrant blue eye just like the other and Sanji already stood when Zoro mentally slapped himself for not looking at his other brow, which could have settled the witch's bet already.
Zoro nodded and finally inhaled what was left of the smoke.
"Thanks, and for the others too while I'm at it," he blew the smoke, shoving his fingers forward for Sanji to take a darg.
"What do you mean?" Curiosity got the better of the cook, filling his lung with nicotine.
"It pushes down nausea, so if I have one," he inhaled again, flicking the butt to the ground, stomping on it, "I usually steal one to keep it at bay."
"That's not," the blond started to raise his voice, but suddenly remembered, and hissed at the other "that's not how it works, shitty swordsman!! If you have problems you got to Chopper, not stealing my stash, you idiotic, illiterate bastard!" Sanji was fuming and if Zoro wanted to rile him up, he would have compared him to that Water 7 train they took, but he needed the quiet.
"It works for me, so it's fine," Zoro shrugged looking expectant at Sanji to light another one.
The cook rolled his eyes, giving in, lighting one with ease, pushing it between Zoro's lips and lit one for himself.
He paced around, walking a small distance back and forth under Zoro's watchful gaze, when he finally came back to sit next to the swordsman.
"I told them not to rumour about it," whispered quietly, like a confession.
"What?" Zoro felt that they have finally arrived at somewhere, only he was the one still kept in the dark. Sanji sighed before he looked over to Zoro, mouth already open to reprimand, when he stopped himself from insulting the man. Zoro's best guess was that he saw ignorance on his face.
"You don't remember."
It wasn't a question but a fact, and Zoro felt something shifting in the cook. Like relief, as if something eased within him.
"What's the last thing you remember?"
"I offered my life for Luffy's and that Shichibukai accepted. The next thing was me waking up some times ago, but that's it." Zoro lifted Wadō, settling her across his knees, mindlessly caressing the sheath with his thumb.
"Okay, so basically that's what happened, a pair of bastards saw it and Brook too, but I told them to keep quiet. You don't need the fireworks."
"Is Luffy good?" The first smile touched Sanji lips at the question and it relieved Zoro.
"Better than ever, not knowing what happened," the last word came out strange but the swordsman was happy for their captain. He shouldn't know.
"Good. The others?"
"Nothing serious, and that pesky yohohohozy skeleton really is our next member," regardless of his words, Sanji was still smiling, slowly shaking his head.
He stubbed out his vice on the ground, but as he was straigthening back, Zoro saw him wince. Visibly.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Sanji gritted through clenched teeth, clutching his side.
"Cook," Zoro's toned dropped, "what?"
To this Sanji scoffed and lifted his hoodie, revealing an enormous bruise on his side, still dark, nearly black.
"You hypocrite, and you tell me off when I don't go to Chopper."
"Nothing happened, Marimo," Sanji lowered back the fabric, concealing his wound once again.
"Nothing happened."
"Don't take his life, take mine.
To take care...
...find another chef!"
Everything came back, right until he stepped into that huge bubbly paw and till he was coming face to face with a wide eyed , disbelieving cook.
Nothing happened.
"If you ever again dare to stand in front of me, you won't have to worry about bruises anymore," Zoro's voice was grave.
Sanji's eye widened, just in Zoro's memory.
"Thanks to your little jab, I remember. Not that I needed your ugly ass in my memory. What the hell were you thinking, huh? Find another chef?! Fuck that!"
Sanji stayed quiet.
"Who the fuck says something like that? You think the others would have been okay with those shitty parting words, going on, looking for another 'z'-rated choreboy?! Answer me, cook!" Zoro was raging.
His phisical symptoms were subdued but his blood was boiling. What was that idiot thinking?
"I-I wanted you to live," Sanji balled his hands into fists, knuckles white, leg tapping rapidly against the surface. His voice was strained, like he was pulling out words he wanted not to say. It dawned on Zoro, that that was the reason he was relieved.
"And I lived, so what's your excuse? Or you just wanted to die that much?" Zoro gritted his teeth and grabbed Sanji's front.
"What the fuck was that, cook?"
Sanji came back to himself and headbutted Zoro, smashing his forhead into Zoro's nose. As Zoro clutched his nose with both hands, Sanji scrambled back on their makeshift bench. Zoro's eyes promised compensation.
"I said what I said there, so don't make me repeat myself. Why are you making a big deal out of it?"
"Cause one of my nakamas cleary intended to die in front of my eyes! That's why, shithead!" They really tried to keep it low, with some success. Luckily, his nose didn't bleed.
"What do you care, you got your heroic moment!"
They were staring at each other a meter apart, both heaving with emotion, tension crackling between them.
Zoro caved.
"You really think it was that? A heroic moment?"
Sanji looked sideways but refused to asnwer.
"If it's all you think it was, I'm more than glad to have knocked you out."
"No," was all Sanji was willing to give. He sighed and got back next to Zoro, closer.
"I'm glad you are alive," he whispered with an odd look again.
"Don't try to throw away your life again, just because you think something stupid," Zoro's line of sight dropped lower, to Sanji's lower lip that was worried between his teeth.
"I got what you meant there, but if that's all you think you are, then that's all you ever will be," he looked back up, "but those inside will miss you and if you ended up in my place, Luffy would have never forgiven himself."
Sanji was outright chewing on his lip, looking for words.
"You really think I had no chance of surviving it?" Zoro only hummed in response, searching Sanji's eye. There was defiance in there, but understanding too. The man was protecting real secrets, things that no one knew of him on the crew, but with a few parting words, he let Zoro in. Deliberately or not, it didn't matter.
Zoro's cigarette was still between his fingers, burned down to the butt, with only a few inhales he took from it. He dropped it to the ground when Sanji spoke up again.
"I thought you were dead," Zoro saw that look, and he never want to see it again, "all that...all that blood. I mean, it's nothing new to see wounds and sorts but that was different. That was real. How you stood there and I only knew that I have to get you to Chopper as soon as I can. And-and...," Sanji started talking faster and faster and his voice knotted Zoro's insides. He was kneading his own hand, thumb pushing constanly into the meat of his palm, eye looking straight into Zoro's soul.
"I thought you were dead," he repeated and Zoro was perplexed. This man before him, his rival, was nearly breaking down with worry for him.
Zoro lifted his hand to the cook's face as Sanji's eyes zigzagged over his own, waiting, scared from the memory.
Zoro touched those goldish locks and tucked them behind the cook's ear. Huh, they curl to the same direction, he mused for a second as Sanji held his breath.
"I'm not dead yet," Zoro rasped and let his hand fall away. He saw Sanji's slow blink, when he smoothed over his ear and now the blond was staring lower than Zoro's eyes.
Sanji stopped his self-soothing motions and brushed his fingertips over Zoro's knuckles, shyly, softly, fleeting.
Zoro's ears started to buzz for an entirely different reason, as he turned his hand over, offering his palm. Sanji looked at the motion, reaching forward again, slowly drawing circles into the middle of it.
"Good," he heard Zoro's breath hitch when he brushed over his wrist, absent-mindedly caressing the skin, eyes darting between the swordsman's lips and eyes.
Zoro's heart stared a dance to the exact pulse in his ears and his head started to empty. Kuma really did a number on him if his symptoms came back this quickly.
Zoro hated lying to himself, but it was easier then confessing that it was the cook who did this to him. He would deal with that nagging thought later.
The thing was, that the cook always had the appearance of someone, who's confident and ready for everything and anything, collected with all his prissy clothes and tie and suits and "gentlemanly", as he would call himself. And Zoro wanted to get his hands on those ties, to wrap them around his fist, to feel how soft the material is, but most importantly, to yank their owner forward. How much Zoro wanted just to tug on them.
But there was no tie and Sanji scooted more closer, not stopping his fondling, looking at Zoro with expectation?
It must have been that, otherwise Zoro would have found himself under a hill of bricks from a kick, as he surged forward harsly, into Sanji and was met with something soft.
Absolutely, entirely, soft and tender and he was kissed. Just a small press of lips, nothing world-shattering and yet, it was overwhelming. Zoro's heart was beating in his ears and he felt the oxygen leaving his body. Or was that his soul?
Sanji broke the kiss, leaning back as Zoro leaned in, chasing after that light feeling and was met with something soft again, but this time on his cheek.
"Not now," Sanji replied, what Zoro could only decode as an answer to his own face morphed into incomprehension.
Sanji's other hand slid onto Zoro's chest as he whispered, "Your dumb heart," steadying his palm over Zoro's hammering organ.
"You may not hear it, but if we continue I'm gonna be the one to suffer the consequences of Chopper's wraith, since you gonna be out cold with a heart attack. And I may want to live further than this."
The words were there, teasing, poking but the usual heat was left out, only fondness lacing the tone.
"Fine, but we are not finished, with anything, cook."
"No, we are not, Marimo," it was final and promising.
Zoro liked that.
"Do you want to stay?"
"Yeah," Zoro replied and leaned into Sanji one last time, resting his head on the blond's shoulder.
It took only a few minutes for Sanji to hear a soft snoring coming from the mold on his shoulder, mouth parted, drooling. Pity, Sanji really loved that hoodie, but it was now contaminated, nothing could be done.
He pulled out another cigarette, slowly smoking into the dawn, blowing mist up into the clear air of Thriller Bark.