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When Zoro decided that he'd join Luffy's fledgling pirate crew, he knew that he was signing up for a life of uncertainty and challenge. The irony of abandoning everything he knew as a bounty hunter and willingly becoming the very thing that he previously poached to survive wasn't lost on him. And yet, following Luffy somehow brought him so many things that Zoro thought he'd never get a real chance at: a driving force towards his goal of being the World's Greatest Swordsman, a consistent place to sleep and food to eat, even the makings of a real family with his nakama. Even more, amidst his crewmates, Zoro found himself developing feelings past kinship for the first time in his life towards one of them in particular — the damned womanizing love cook.
He'd never admit it aloud, but Sanji was exactly his type: strong, tall, loyal. The fact that he could spar with Zoro verbally as well as physically was also a plus in the swordsman's eyes; he liked a man that could challenge him and keep him on his toes. And yet for all of the dart brow's positives, there were little habits of his that continued to evade Zoro's understanding. From the way he refused to use his hands to fight, to how he always insisted on fawning all over the girls, and even his insistence on bathing every single day, he remained an enigma to the swordsman.
There was one habit of Sanji's that truly baffled Zoro beyond the others, though: the humming. When he cooked, when he cleaned, sometimes even just when he idly stared out at the sea and smoked his cigarettes, it was always the same song just barely hummed under his breath. A beautiful melody that was both completely foreign to him and yet one that became familiar with how often he heard Sanji hum it. Zoro wasn't even sure if the blonde knew that he was doing it sometimes, and he wasn't keen on letting on that he paid closer attention to the love cook than the probably ought to.
He also didn't want to potentially make him stop, either; it might be strange, but it wasn't completely unwelcome. Sometimes it was even rather soothing. None of his other crewmates ever brought it up in front of him, either, so they either didn't know Sanji was doing it or they didn't want to bother him in asking. Both worked just fine for Zoro in his feigning ignorance of it.
It was that same humming, though, that Zoro found himself clinging to after his interaction with Bartholomew Kuma. He remembers readily offering himself up to die in place of Luffy and his crewmates, he remembers the giant pink paw-shaped bubble that he thrust his arms into, but everything after that was blurred around the edges. Consciousness was as fleeting as his memory was; he would only seem to come to enough to register the pain he was in before blacking back out again. But that faint familiar song somehow cut through the haze like a beacon, like it was something familiar and tangible to tether himself to.
Zoro finally managed to blearily blink his eyes open, following the lull of the tune. He registered that he was laying flat on his back on something soft — a futon, maybe? Instinctively he tried to sit up straight and he winced at the white hot pain that seared through his body with the effort. The soft humming immediately stopped and Zoro instead heard rustling off to his right side.
"Lay back down, moron," the deep voice of the cook admonished him. "Chopper will have my head if he thinks I let you up and about too soon."
The swordsman closed his eyes again and tried to subtly move his hands and feet, taking a mental inventory of all of his limbs. While sore, he managed to deduce that he still had all ten fingers and toes, both arms, both legs. His chest burned more than it had after being sliced up by Mihawk and Zoro wondered if he might have another scar to show for it. When he opened his eyes back up, they met Sanji's deep blue one, peering down at him.
"Does anything hurt especially bad? Chopper did give me some medicine in case you woke up to take it —"
"How…how long've I been out?" rasped Zoro, the words tasting like iron in his mouth before making him cough.
Almost as if he'd been anticipating that, the blonde held the rim of a cup to his lips. "Drink," ordered Sanji.
Zoro eagerly opened his mouth to the cool water that was offered and slowly drank his fill. The cook, to his credit, was surprisingly gentle with him and drew back when the cup was empty. Feeling a bit better, Zoro stubbornly tried moving to sit up properly again, biting his tongue to mute his groans of pain. Surprisingly soft yet strong hands attempted to shove him back down into his original position.
"Stubborn Marimo, you're supposed to be resting."
"Well, I'm awake now, and you wanna talk. So let's talk."
"You can talk perfectly well laying down like Chopper wants you to."
"Dammit, Curly Brow, let me at least look at you."
They stared each other down in silence for what felt like ages. Finally, the blonde let out an aggravated huff and moved behind Zoro to support his back. It was a slow and excruciating process, but Zoro's pride wouldn't allow him to admit as much. He was honestly as surprised as he was grateful that Sanji understood him enough to know he wouldn't be content until he did what he set himself to.
Once Zoro was carefully propped up against a small rock that Sanji had brought over, the blonde sat on the ground a foot or two away from him. He pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and went about the motions of lighting it, taking a leisurely draw once he was done.
"Where's everyone else?" asked Zoro.
"Sleeping. We're leaving in the morning."
"Why're you next to me? Why not Chopper or Usopp or —?"
"We've been taking turns, asshole. That way everyone can get some rest."
"Did Brook get his shadow? I beat the zombie that had it —"
"Yeah. Celebrated for a good part of yesterday by playing around in the sun with Luffy. Weird guy."
"How long was I sleeping for?"
"Almost three days, give or take," Sanji replied around an exhale. "You scared the shit out of everyone, Marimo…including me. You wanna tell me how you wound up in that place with your blood all over everything?"
Zoro tried to shake his head but gritted his teeth at the persistent pain. "Not really. Did anyone else see it?"
"A few pirates that'd been trapped here on the island. They tried to tell everyone what happened, but I…persuaded them to keep quiet. Like you said, 'nothing' happened, right?"
"Thank you." The relieved words seemed to slip out of the swordsman's mouth before he could stop them. Sanji visibly froze for a split second, his visible eye going wide in surprise before shrugging and taking another drag of his cigarette.
"Does it bother you that I more or less know what you did?"
"Nah," replied Zoro. He shrugged one of his own shoulders in feigned nonchalance and bit back a wince. "I don't give a shit. I know you wouldn't use it against me."
Sanji looked contemplative for a second, staring blankly at his half smoked cigarette. "Would you tell me what actually happened?" he asked in a smaller voice than before. "If it's all the same to you?"
"Why?"
"I trust your word more than that of people I've never met before."
Something in Zoro's chest clenched at those words. The trust that he and the blonde had with each other as nakama was inherent, but it had never been verbally acknowledged before now. Sanji trusted him. It truly wasn't as groundbreaking of a revelation as the swordsman was making it out to be, but that small reassurance that Sanji didn't completely hate him had him biting the tip of his tongue to suppress a tiny smile.
"I don't remember all of it," he admitted. "You know what happened up to when I knocked you back out — sorry about that, by the way." Zoro huffed out a laugh at the cook's astonished reaction before continuing. "I told Kuma I accepted his terms, but I wanted to do it away from everyone in case someone else woke up again. That's why I was in that open space. I remember shoving my arms into the big bubble thing, but everything else after that is a blur. The worst pain I'd ever felt in my life. Were you the one that brought me back?"
"Yeah," confirmed Sanji, exhaling another plume of smoke. "Do you remember me getting there?"
"Vaguely? I don't remember why I was clinging so hard onto staying conscious, but I guess once heard you shouting, I knew everyone else was okay and I was good to give in."
"You were out for damn near three days, Marimo…what made you snap back out of it?"
Zoro toyed with answering truthfully. His hesitance to reply must have shown on his face because Sanji made a gesture to continue, as if the swordsman was maybe drawing it out for dramatic effect or something else instead.
"You want the real answer, Swirls?"
"I asked, didn't I?"
"The song you always hum when you think nobody's listening. I heard it again and before I knew it, I was awake again."
The blonde looked like he'd been slapped for how shocked he was. Mouth agape, his mostly-smoked cigarette dropped to the ground and he made no moves to retrieve it. A multitude of emotions crossed his face: embarrassment, anger, and something that looked strangely like relief before he finally seemed to settle on drawing his lips into a fine line and nodding his head.
"I see," he said in a clipped tone.
"I didn't say I hated it, did I, Dart Brow? Just said I heard it, is all."
A faint blush painted Sanji's cheeks and he began toying with his fallen cigarette as if it was the most fascinating thing to him. "How long have you…noticed my humming?"
"The whole time, I think?" Zoro gave a minute shrug in feigned nonchalance. "Is it like a comfort thing or something?"
"Why? Gonna call me soft?"
"Just curious."
"You must have more damage to your head than Chopper initially thought, Marimo, if you're being this open with me."
"Maybe you're just more tolerable when I'm drugged up on pain meds, Dart Brow."
Sanji scoffed and shook his head. He finally snubbed out the dying embers of his smoke and let out a deep sigh.
"It's a song my mother used to sing to me when I was young," he confessed, voice barely above a whisper. "Whenever I got hurt or sad, she'd hold me close and sing that song for me. Sometimes I find myself singing it to myself if I'm stressed out or even if I just miss her a little too much, but I didn't realize that anyone else could hear it."
"Don't worry about it, Curls," Zoro replied softly. "I get it. Is she…?"
"She died when I was seven. She was really sick."
"'M sorry to hear."
"Yeah…"
The silence that stretched between the two of them grew almost uncomfortable before Zoro spoke up again.
"What are the words?"
"Huh?"
"To the song, Sanji," he clarified. "Does it have words?"
For the second time in a short period, the cook looked like Zoro had struck him dumb, and the swordsman only realized belatedly that it was because he used the other man's given name. He's sure he would have visibly blushed, too, if it weren't for the bandages wrapped all around his face and body. Part of him wanted to take it all back and deflect away from his curiosity, his lapse in sense, but to his surprise, Sanji let out a deep sigh and finally looked back up at him.
"You better not fucking make fun of me, Marimo."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
That sharp blue eye narrowed as if to scrutinize him, and after a minute or two, it softened. The cook looked around them as if to confirm that all of their nakama were still resting a ways away. Seemingly satisfied, he closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and began to sing in a voice barely louder than they'd been talking in before:
"Vous êtes mon soleil, mon unique soleil
Tu me fais heureux quand le ciel est gris
Vous ne saurez jamais, chérie, combien je t'aime
S'il vous plaît ne prenez pas loin mon soleil."
Zoro found himself transfixed by Sanji's voice. He already thought the blonde's normal speaking voice, deep and slightly raspy from smoking, was attractive. But this? He had no idea that Sanji could sing. While he didn't recognize the language that the words were in, it was nonetheless beautiful. And the song itself sounded almost like a lullaby; he definitely understood how that melody could serve to soothe the cook when he needed it.
"Oi, Mosshead, quit staring at me!"
Blinking, Zoro realized belatedly that he'd been staring enthralled at the other man. He hurriedly complied, looking down at his lap and flinching slightly at the pain from the sudden shift of his neck.
"Sorry," he apologized. Chancing a look back up at the blonde, he added, "You sounded good. Maybe Luffy wouldn't have been so quick to want Brook if he knew he already had a musician."
"Not a word about this to anyone else, understand?" Sanji went about lighting another smoke. "I don't wanna have to kick your ass when you're already on bed rest per Chopper."
"As if you could kick my ass anyway, ero-cook."
"In your dreams, stupid Marimo."
The swordsman let a tiny smirk pull at the side of his mouth.
"Sure thing, Curly," he acquiesced softly. 'Your secret's safe with me."
He let his eyes drift shut again — not for sleep, but more to grant a small reprieve to the other man. The new silence that stretched between them was more comfortable, more familiar. Zoro felt the residual exhaustion and pain seem to start seeping more into his bones and he let out a yawn. Wordlessly, he heard Sanji stand up from his seated position near him and, at the feeling of his hands back on him, Zoro's eyes flew back open.
"We're gonna lay you back down," mumbled the blonde. "Don't want Chopper to yell at either of us."
"'Course."
The excuse seemed pretty half-assed, but Zoro wasn't going to complain about it. After a bit more wincing and maneuvering, and once the rock was shoved out of the way, the swordsman was back on his futon and covered up with a blanket. He let out another yawn and closed his eyes again, feeling somehow more rejuvenated in the midst of everything that had happened. Before sleep overtook him again, he heard Sanji's voice on a whisper.
"Your secret's safe with me, too."
If Zoro felt himself fall back asleep with a tiny smile on his face, it was nobody's business but his own.