#pre timeskip zoro is the main reason for him being so soft in this

[cha-lii]

crumble and fall

Chapter 2

Zoro was sitting on the floor with his back against the infirmary wall, watching Sanji’s chest rise and fall as he slept. He’d apparently passed out not long after Luffy had deposited him on the infirmary bed, and had only roused slightly as Chopper had checked him over.

He had a truly nasty concussion, one that had Chopper wringing his little hooves together anxiously talking about seizures and epilepsy and memory loss. He had deep, black bruising on his ribs that was going to make breathing absolute hell for the next few days, or even weeks. He also had a bruise covering the space between his neck and his clavicle, ugly purple spreading out from a small point of red. Somehow, that was the one bothering Zoro the most.

Maybe it was because it had taken him several long seconds to even realise that must be where Jin had shot him that third time. Maybe it was that – the carelessness of Zoro not even knowing what had hurt his nakama, even though he’d been in the fucking room. Or maybe it was the memory of the cook’s pained, breathless words to them after Jin had finally left them; the way he’d tried his very best to offer them some kind of comfort even though talking at all must have been agonising.

Maybe he was angry at Sanji for allowing himself to be put in that position in the first place.

Or maybe he was angry at himself for still being so fucking weak, even now.

Sanji shifted slightly, and Zoro had started to stand before he’d even realised it – but the cook didn’t wake. His face creased a bit, and his arms moved towards his chest, his injuries paining him even in unconsciousness – but his eyes remained stubbornly closed, and Zoro felt pathetically grateful. He settled back against the wall with a short sigh, and resumed his vigil. Not that he really needed to – Luffy hadn’t moved from Sanji’s side once, not even to clean the blood from his fists. Zoro looked at his captain now, where he was stretched out so carefully along Sanji’s side, fast asleep. He had failed Luffy, too. Again.

His arm throbbed, every beat of his heart sending pulses of pain through the limb and up into his shoulder. Chopper had tried to give him something, to ease the pain. Zoro had barely managed not to shout at the little reindeer as he’d approached with the syringe. No drugs, he’d insisted, voice low and rough and just a little bit desperate. Chopper had taken one look at his face and set the syringe aside. He hadn’t offered it again since then.

Zoro closed his eye and leaned his head back against the wall. The pain was good. The pain meant he was present; it meant he had control of himself, of his body. He could handle the pain. Hell, he fucking welcomed it at this point.

He must have dozed off, because next thing he knew a voice was calling to him, so quiet and weak sounding that it shouldn’t have made his whole body tense – but it did. Because that voice belonged to–

“Cook,” Zoro opened his eye to find Sanji watching him. His face was pale, making the bruises stand out even more harshly in the dim light of the infirmary. As Zoro watched, he began struggling to sit, his unsteady movements jostling Luffy awake.

“Mn, Sanji,” the younger man grumbled, laying an arm across his bruised chest to gently, so gently, push him back down. Sanji struggled briefly, barely seeming to register Luffy at all, and Zoro opened his mouth to tell him to lie the fuck down. Sanji spoke again before he could.

“M-marimo,” he said, slow and slurred and still so fucking quiet. His blackened eyes were hazy, and his mouth twitched in pain as his movement’s strained his ribs. “Z-Zoro – what’s – what–” And he sounded so much like he did in that cell, when he woke up lost and confused and in pain only to be met with even more cruelty, that Zoro did the absolute worst thing he possibly could – he ran.

He passed Nami and Chopper as he stormed through the galley. Nami was lying on the couch, with the doctor curled up at her side. Clearly neither of them had felt particularly inclined to stray very far from Sanji either. Zoro prodded Chopper’s back until he opened his eyes and peered blearily up at him, blue nose twitching and snuffling.

“Cook’s awake,” Zoro said, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the sleeping navigator. Not that it mattered, because as soon as the words were out of his mouth Chopper jolted, and clambered clumsily over Nami’s legs to make his way to the galley. Nami moaned, sitting up and pressing her fingers to her eyes.

“What?” She hissed, then she looked at Zoro’s face and at Chopper throwing open the door to the infirmary, and within seconds she had joined him.

Zoro looked at the open door, and heard the low murmur of their voices. He didn’t follow them.

Robin cooked breakfast. She was moving slower than usual, still worn out from just those few hours’ exposure to sea-stone, but she seemed in high enough spirits. She kept it simple: a big pot of scrambled eggs (nowhere near as fluffy as the cook managed to make them, and just a tad too salty), and a tall stack of toast.

Sanji was still confined to the infirmary, so that’s where Luffy was, too. The rubber man didn’t even respond to the call for food. As everyone else settled around the table, Nami emerged from the infirmary looking fondly exasperated.

“Can someone help me take some through to them?” She asked the table at large. Brook stood agreeably to help her dish out Luffy’s ridiculous portion and Sanji’s much saner one. They took the plates through, moving carefully so as not to spill anything. As the door opened Zoro heard Luffy’s lively laughter, only slightly quieter than it normally would be for Sanji’s benefit. He heard the cook say something, something cheeky judging by his tone, and then the door was closed again.

“Zoro?” He snapped his eyes to Usopp, the sniper staring at him with raised brows and a spoonful of eggs in one hand. Zoro scowled at him, and at the rest of the crew as they all turned to stare at him.

“Fuckin’ – what?” Their eyes went sheepishly back to their food, and Usopp raised his other hand placatingly. Zoro tried not to stare at the splint on the sniper’s nose, remembering with sudden vividness the exact sound it had made as the marines had smashed his face against the deck of their ship.

“Relax, relax. I just asked for your plate, that’s all. A few times, actually. You were zoned out. You okay?” Zoro only grunted, offering his plate without another word. When Nami and Brook came back out of the infirmary, they both seemed in better moods than they had been a mere five minutes earlier. Nami was even smiling.

“They’re both okay?” Franky asked her as she sat. She nodded, scraping some butter and marmalade onto her toast.

“Luffy’s talking a mile a minute about fucking fish, of all things. And Sanji-kun is eating it all up. Dunno how he has the energy for it, first thing in the morning.” Franky grinned widely, and Zoro could actually see the relief spreading through everyone like a breath of fresh air. He wished he could share the sentiment.

“Hey, Luffy’s smarter than he lets on, sometimes,” Usopp said, squirting an unholy amount of tabasco on his eggs, and then a bit more after catching Chopper’s horrified expression. “He knows – if there’s one thing to talk about that’ll cheer Sanji up, it’s fish.”

“Or women,” Franky reminded him, and Usopp burst out laughing.

“Yeah, but imagine Luffy trying to talk about women! With Sanji!” They all laughed aloud at that, and even Zoro couldn’t hold back a smirk at the thought. His smile fell again as he looked down at his plate. He wasn’t hungry, not even slightly.

Between the pain from his arm, and the exhaustion of his sleepless night, and the after-effects of whatever drug the marines had used, he was feeling downright nauseous. But there was food on his plate, and he wasn’t going to waste it just because the cook was too hurt to fight him over it. He picked up his fork, and began shovelling eggs into his mouth before he could change his mind.

Breakfast ended, and the crew seemed to migrate as one in the direction of the infirmary. Franky and Jinbei stood pressed together in the doorway, their frames too large to fit into the small room, even without almost the entire crew crammed in it. Through the open door, Zoro heard Chopper’s bossy little voice insisting that Luffy “stop doing that, he’s hurt!”, and he heard the answering laughter from Luffy and Usopp and Brook. He heard Robin speaking gently, the low timbre of her voice so comforting. He heard Usopp saying something in that overconfident way he had that made it perfectly clear that he was lying, and he heard Nami calling him out on it in a deadpan voice that earned her hoots of laughter.

He heard how the whole crew had to fall silent just to hear anything Sanji had to say, because the cook could barely even seem to talk anymore, with his bruised throat. Zoro gritted his teeth, and stood from the table. Franky turned at the movement, wearing an easy smile. “You not coming?”

Zoro didn’t look back at him as he left the galley.

Sanji wasn’t allowed out of the infirmary for another entire day, despite his vehement protests that he was fine , he could still cook. As if he hadn’t fallen over the first time he’d climbed out of bed to go to the toilet. As if Luffy hadn’t had to practically carry him up the ladder to the restroom when his vertigo proved too much for him to handle. As if he didn’t still look – and clearly feel – like a walking fucking bruise.

By the time Chopper reluctantly, very reluctantly, allowed Sanji back into the galley, the cook was practically bouncing off the walls. A mixture of boredom, pain and nicotine withdrawals, Zoro guessed. He watched from where he was sat by the helm as the cook sucked down one cigarette after another, downright preening under the gleeful attention of his friends, all so happy to see him up and about again.

Luffy was smiling broadly, pressed against Sanji’s side even now. Zoro wondered, watching the cook sway slightly with Sunny’s movements, if it wasn’t more for the cook’s benefit than his own. Usopp was up on his crutches, looking a bit wobbly as well but grinning and gesticulating wildly as he spun some yarn about their grand escape from the marines, Chopper gazing up at him with clear adoration. Brook was tuning his guitar, and Franky and Jinbei were talking quietly together about something or other, and Robin and Nami were watching them all with smiles on their faces – and Zoro felt so fucking angry at the normality of it all that he could barely breathe.

Scoffing, he leaned back against the railing behind him, and closed his eye. It wasn’t their fault, he knew that. He was fully fucking aware that he was the one being unreasonable here.

It wasn’t that he wanted them to be angry too – he would never begrudge them their happiness. It was more the fact that none of them had addressed it, even once. The thing that was dominating Zoro’s mind; the thing that had been hounding him since he’d dropped his first sword. No one was talking about how weak they’d been. How weak he’d been. No one even seemed to fucking care.

And if no one cared about their weaknesses, then how were they supposed to get stronger? How were they supposed to avoid another situation like that, with all of them incapacitated and at the mercy of a completely psychotic, sadistic, power-tripping–

“Is your arm sore?” Zoro opened his eye to peer at Chopper, the little reindeer shuffling his feet nervously. “Do – do you want that painkiller now? I promise it won’t feel anything like what those marines did to you!” Zoro clenched his jaw, and tried to squash down his irritation.

“No,” he said, his voice sounding clipped and harsh even to him. Wincing at the way it made Chopper duck his head and begin to back away, Zoro reached out with his good arm and snagged the little doctor before he could leave. “Sorry,” Zoro murmured to him. “I’ll manage fine without it, Chop. Don’t worry about me.” Chopper looked back at him, and one small sniffle was all the warning Zoro had before he suddenly had a lapful of sobbing reindeer. “Chopper, what–”

“Of course I’m worried about you, stupid – stupid marimo!” Chopper’s words were muffled in Zoro’s shirt, his small hooves hitting him too lightly on his chest to hurt. “You’re so stupid! You, and Sanji too! Stop being so stupid when you’re so hurt!”

“What’s the cook done?”

“That’s not the point! Both of you are always a-acting like – like – like you don’t even feel it! But I know you do! And as a doctor – as a doctor, it’s my job to take care of you.” Chopper sat back a bit so that he could look up into Zoro’s face, and even though the downy fur on his face was matted with tears and snot, even though his blue nose twitched every time he sniffled, even though he was still sobbing with every other word – at that moment, he looked just as intimidating as that old witch he’d lived with on Drum Island. “I’m your doctor, Zoro, and I – I’m a good one. You can’t keep telling me you’re fine and expect me to believe it. I know you aren’t. Sanji, too. At least Usopp tells me when he’s hurting.”

Zoro took a moment to collect himself – to breathe deeply, and run his hands along Chopper’s back and relish the feeling of the soft fur beneath his fingertips – and then he managed his first smile in days. He hoped it looked more sincere than it felt. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said, and pulled Chopper in for another hug. Chopper leaned in eagerly, and wrapped his arms as far around Zoro’s torso as he could – which wasn’t very far at all.

“Then… can I–”

“I still don’t want it, Chopper,” Zoro insisted, gently but firmly. “I’m sorry, I know you’re only trying to do your job. But I just – I can’t surrender control again. Not now. I just can’t.”

“But – b-but–”

“Chopper,” Zoro leaned back, tucking a finger under Chopper’s chin and tilting his head up until their eyes met. “I’m fine. I promise. It hurts, but it’s nowhere near the worst I’ve ever had. You’re a good doctor – the best in the world. This isn’t anything to do with you. This is my choice. Got it?”

Chopper scowled a little, and opened his mouth around what was sure to be another argument, but whatever he saw in Zoro’s eyes stopped him. In the end, he only nodded in defeat. Zoro tried for another smile, and pulled him back in. Leaning back again, they both fell asleep in the warm sun.

“–sleeping, come and play!” Zoro was jolted awake by his captain’s eager shout, and the feeling of Chopper being wrenched off of his chest. He reached for his swords instinctively, before opening his eye and seeing the doctor safe in Luffy’s arms, looking completely and utterly confused at his abrupt awakening. Usopp was shaking his head fondly, leaning against the bannister as he watched them. Zoro swallowed back his uneasiness at the sight of the unsteady sniper standing so close to the stairs.

“Zoro, you too! Come play!” Luffy was grinning at him, and his eyes were bright as he secured Chopper under one arm and tickled him relentlessly with his free hand. Chopper was shrieking with laughter, kicking his little feet. Zoro wished he didn’t feel so irritated by the sound. “Go away, Luffy,” he growled, closing his eye again. “I’m trying to sleep.”

“Boo, you’re always sleeping. You should have some fun instead!” Zoro decided that didn’t deserve an answer, and kept his eyes stubbornly closed. Luffy seemed to watch him for another long moment, but eventually moved to sit on the stairs with Usopp. Zoro listened to them dealing cards for whatever dumb game they’d made up, and tried to loosen some of the tension in his body.

He was tired, so tired. But did he really have time for napping? He should be training, getting stronger. He should be meditating, strengthening his Haki. He should be–

He was so caught up in himself that he didn’t hear the footsteps approaching him.

“Here, marimo,” Sanji’s voice came from above him, still too fucking quiet, and a foot nudged his leg. Zoro felt his body stiffen even further, and his eye shot open to glare at the cook. Sanji frowned a bit at the look, puzzled at the unprompted hostility, and Zoro realised he was being shitty – realised it even before he saw the plate of onigiri held in the cook’s outstretched hand. He was being an asshole, he knew that, but still–

“Don’t want it,” he ground out, closing his eye again. But not before he caught the flash of emotions that crossed the cook’s battered face – surprise, irritation, confusion. Hurt.

“Just fucking take it, marimo, it’s lunchtime. You need to ea–”

“Fuck off, I said I don’t want it. Give it to Luffy, or somethin’.”

“Mari–”

“Fuck. Off.” He laid a hand on his swords, and waited for the answering kick. Arguing was good, sparring was good. They were normal, they were expected. It didn’t matter that Zoro’s arm was throbbing, or that Sanji looked like a strong gust of wind would be enough to knock him over. Zoro suddenly, desperately needed a fight, an outlet for his anger, a way for him to get stronger–

The moment stretched. When Zoro finally gave in and opened his eye, the cook was looking at him with a strange expression on his bruised face. Zoro raised his eyebrows and began to nudge Wado out of its scabbard, a clear challenge. Sanji opened his mouth, to argue, Zoro hoped, or to throw back some insult. Instead, the cook let out a strange, shuddering breath, and shook his head minutely. Zoro frowned, irritation bleeding away. Something was wrong.

“Cook?”

“Whatever,” Sanji muttered, dropping the plate at Zoro’s side so clumsily one of the rice balls rolled onto the deck. He straightened up and turned too quickly, stumbling slightly. Zoro began to stand, and was aware of the others pausing their game to look over, but Sanji recovered himself enough to clamber down the stairs without falling, and Zoro watched him storm across the deck and slam the galley door behind him.

“Everything… okay?” Zoro looked over at Usopp. The sniper looked nervous. Zoro shrugged.

“Cook’s just being pissy again,” he scoffed, trying to pretend he wasn’t bothered by whatever the hell had just happened. That look in Sanji’s eye – it was almost like fear. Zoro frowned, dismissing the uneasy thought. Why would the cook be afraid of him? They spar all the fucking time, each always giving as good as they got. Sanji had never once looked at him like… like that . It made Zoro’s skin crawl. He stood, gathering his swords against his chest.

“‘M gonna train,” he muttered to the group on the stairs. “Luffy, eat that.”

“Ah! Zoro, no! You – you’re hurt, and your arm is–”

“Relax, Chopper, I won’t do anything that’ll strain it. It’s in a cast anyway, what the hell would I even be able to do to it?”

“You’ll find a way!” Luffy cackled at Chopper’s infuriated shout, onigiri already half gone, and Zoro took the opportunity to slip away to the crow’s nest as the doctor’s ire found a new target in their captain. Climbing up the rigging to the nest proved a challenge, but Zoro managed it without too much trouble. He shut the door behind him, and allowed himself to relax a bit in the privacy of the empty room. He laid his swords carefully against the wall, and paused for a moment to look at them.

He hadn’t allowed himself to falter when he’d picked them up again for the first time after their captivity. He knew that if he’d allowed himself any hesitation at all, the weight of them would have become too great. And he really would be weak, then. He’d forced himself to ignore the feelings of unworthiness as he’d lifted Enma, remembering the feeling of her hilt slipping from his fingers. He’d tried to forget the memory of Jin prying Wado Ichimonji from his jaws as if he’d had any right at all to even touch her.

He’d tried to apologise to them, his blades, his treasures, to convey to them that he would never fail them again, never lose them again. He wondered if he could become strong enough to fulfil that promise.

Gritting his teeth, Zoro picked up a dumbbell, and got to work.

Zoro only emerged from the nest hours later when Luffy called him down for dinner. He was, quite frankly, disgusting. His t-shirt was plastered to his back with sweat, and when he caught a whiff of himself as he climbed back down the rigging he was abruptly reminded of the fact he hadn’t bathed since before the fight that had gotten them captured in the first place. He was scowling again when he entered the galley, and his mood wasn't improved by the wrinkled noses of his crewmates as he took his seat at the table.

“Fuck’s sake, Zoro,” Nami complained at him, screwing up her face dramatically and waving an arm in his direction, as though to ward him off. “Are you an animal? Are you an honest to god wild animal? What the hell?”

“Shut up, witch,” he grumbled back, flipping her off. “What’s the point in training if you don’t even break a sweat? Get over it.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one who has to smell you.”

“Stop whining, you’re giving me a headache.”

“You do smell really bad, bro,” Franky said, almost sounding apologetic. Chopper nodded next to him, both hooves held over his nose. “You shouldn’t be moving around so much yet,” the little reindeer added stubbornly. Zoro rolled his eyes, and began spooning curry and rice onto his plate, ignoring the exaggerated disgust on everyone’s faces every time he reached across the table. He settled back in his seat and lifted his spoon, but before he could begin eating there was a clattering from the kitchen, followed by a quiet curse. Everyone’s eyes followed the noise.

“Sanji?” Robin called out softly. “Do you need a hand?” Sanji’s head popped up from behind the kitchen island, trying and failing to hide a wince behind a tired smile. Zoro saw the way his eyes flashed nervously in his direction, and he turned back to his food.

“Ah – no, thank you, Robin-chan!” The cook’s voice sounded just a tad too chipper to be convincing. “My hand just slipped, that’s all.” No one looked reassured. Zoro began eating.

“Come sit, Sanji-kun,” Nami said, dishing out her own portion. “You’ve been on your feet too long.”

“You’re so sweet, Nami-san, but I’m fine.”

Zoro kept eating, watching Sanji from the corner of his eye. The cook swayed as he stood, the pots he had dropped before stacked again in his hands. Zoro watched as he left them in the sink and began carrying the rest of the platters, stacked with flat breads and chutneys and fried vegetables, to the already crowded table.

“Whoa, Sanji!” Luffy exclaimed as yet more food was laid out in front of him. “This is great! Are we having a feast?” And sure enough, when Zoro looked again, there was more food than usual. Far more. Sanji only laughed, a tired sound, and shrugged his shoulders.

“No, no,” he said, his voice still carrying that strange chuckle. “I just thought you’d be hungry, that’s all.”

“Always!” Luffy exclaimed, digging in eagerly. Zoro frowned, looking at the vast quantities of food spread out before them. The cook had outdone himself – even if he hadn’t been beaten to hell, this would have been a huge amount of work. Zoro turned to say as much to him, to remind him that he needed to take it easy, instead of exhausting himself and giving Chopper even more work to do – Sanji flinched under Zoro’s glare, and he quickly retreated back to the kitchen. Zoro blinked, reprimands forgotten. What the hell?

“Sanji, sit down,” Usopp finally said as Sanji approached with the, seemingly, final platter of food. He placed it on the table, and abruptly found himself with nothing left to excuse him. Usopp patted the empty chair next to him expectantly, and stared the cook down in a way he wouldn’t have dared to two years ago. “Sit.”

Sanji looked ready to argue, but quickly seemed to realise the futility of it, and finally sat with them. Zoro looked at the way his body immediately seemed to sag in the chair, and the way his face twisted in relief at finally being allowed a break. He ran his hands down his face, and Zoro noted immediately how they trembled. He caught Robin’s eyes across the table, and from the grim set of her mouth knew that she’d caught it too.

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright, Sanji?” She asked in a low voice, smiling at the cook when he looked over at her. He smiled, and it looked real enough. “I truly am feeling much better, Robin-chan. I appreciate your concern, though. Thank you.” He didn’t look over at Zoro again – in fact, he seemed to be actively avoiding meeting his eyes. Zoro scoffed, and returned to his food.

Neither of them said a word to each other for the rest of the meal.

Zoro knew Nami was waiting for him below as he finished the bath he’d been bullied into. He was almost tempted to wait her out, to stew in the lukewarm water until she gave up and retreated. But that wouldn’t be fair to her. He wasn’t being fair to any of them, he knew that. So instead, he struggled with his uninjured arm to climb into the soft trousers and jumper he’d stolen from Usopp’s locker, and draped his towel around his neck, and climbed down the ladder to the library as steadily as he could.

“Everyone is worried about you, you know,” Nami said quietly, without missing a beat. She was sitting on the library bench, staring out at the dark sea beyond the windows. She didn’t turn to him as he approached and sat beside her. He bit his lip against whatever sharp words he wanted to throw back, and waited until the flash of anger passed before trusting himself to speak. “I know,” was all he ended up saying.

“If you know, then stop avoiding us. It’s only making things worse.”

“You’re overreacting,” he dismissed, knowing full well that she wasn’t. “I’m not avoiding anyone, I’m just resting more. And training more.”

“You’re hiding,” Nami hissed, turning to him now. Her eyes were bright with anger. Zoro bristled, opening his mouth around an angry retort, but she wasn’t finished. “You feel like you’re weak, like you failed. And you feel like – like you should have done more – and instead of facing that head-on like the rest of us, you’re hiding away like a coward.”

“Fuck you,” he bit out. His fists were clenched in his lap, his broken arm throbbing in its cast, and his teeth were gritting together so hard he could hear them creak, and his eyes burned. “You don’t even – you have no fucking idea. You don’t – you’re fucking used to–” He cut himself off before that thought could finish, but he’d said enough. Nami’s face went white. Then it flushed red, and her eyes filled with tears.

“I’m ‘used to it’?” Her voice was low, dangerous. She stood, looming over him in a way that he shouldn’t have found so threatening.

“That’s not–”

“Yes, it is,” she interrupted him, tears spilling down her cheeks. The cook would have my fuckin’ head, Zoro thought, absurdly. “That’s exactly what you meant. So, what? I’m ‘used to’ being weak, so this isn’t a big deal for me, is that it? I’m ‘used to’ being weak, so seeing Sanji-kun get – g-get–” Her chest heaved as she faltered, and Zoro couldn’t blame her.

“Nami…”

“Seeing Sanji-kun getting shot in the fucking head is supposed to be, what, fucking easy for me?” Her voice had risen, and she was all but shouting now, but Zoro couldn’t bring himself to shush her. He met her eyes squarely, and tried to apologise in a way she could accept.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said evenly. She shook her head and turned abruptly to leave – but he snagged her wrist in his uninjured hand before she could. “Nami. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.” She stood still, turned away from him, and the moment stretched for so long that he wondered if maybe she was just going to walk away from him after all. Eventually, though, she sighed, and turned back to him. She was still crying, but it seemed less angry, somehow. Now, it just seemed tired.

“I’m not used to it,” she whispered, and he slid his hand down to clasp her hand tightly. “I’ll never be used to it, Zoro.”

“I know.”

“I thought he was dead. I really – I really thought he was–”

“I know. Me too.”

Nami didn’t let go of his hand as she sat back down next to him. Her head landed on his shoulder, and he let her cry herself out. When she was done, he tried again.

“I just meant – I don’t know how to do it. How to lose and not – I don’t know, fucking fixate on it. Every time I lose, it’s all I can fucking think about. But you guys, you and Usopp and Chopper – hell, even Luffy – you lose and then you get back up again, and next time you fight you do it without even thinking about it. And you win. And you move on, just like that. But this time…”

“This time none of us won,” Nami said, understanding immediately. Or maybe she’d been thinking the same thing this whole time. Zoro sighed. He felt like an asshole.

“Yeah,” he whispered, letting go of her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders. She made a surprised sound, but leaned into the touch gratefully. “Luffy showed up, and he took care of things the way he always does. And I didn’t – I didn’t get to do a single thing to that piece of shit. I didn’t get to – to hurt him. To kill him. I didn’t get to even say anything to him. It just – it doesn’t feel like it should be over. Not when I didn’t get to do a single fuckin’ thing to help.” Nami snaked her arms around his middle, and squeezed tight.

“I feel the same,” she admitted in a whisper. “I don’t know what I could have done, what help I could have even been, but I – I still wish that I’d done something. I get it, Zoro. And so do Robin and Usopp. They’ve been tearing themselves up over it as well, I can tell.” Zoro sighed.

“Luffy would beat us all up if he knew how dumb we’re being,” he muttered. Nami snorted, and Zoro liked the sound much better than her sobbing. “We’re okay, though,” he told her, and she nodded, her hair tickling his chin. “We’re all okay, and we’ll get stronger. I won’t – we won’t let anything like that happen again. Never again.” Nami nodded again. Finally, she sat back. Zoro squeezed her shoulder one more time before removing his arm and bringing it back to his lap.

“You need to say something to Sanji-kun, though,” she said, and he looked at her. So she’d noticed, too.

“Why do I have to?” Nami shook her head, frowning.

“I don’t know, something’s up with him. I mean, besides the obvious,” she turned back to the window, and chewed her lip for a moment, seeming to debate with herself about what to say next. “There’s – there’s something in his face, when he looks at you,” she finally admitted quietly, looking at him apologetically when he sucked in a harsh breath, her words confirming what he’d been trying to ignore. “I don’t know what happened, but he’s – it’s bad, Zoro. He looks – he looks like he did after Whole Cake Island. Like he’s – scared, and sad, all the time. He’s trying to hide it, because of course he has, but we know him too well. We can all see it.”

“What’s that got to do with me?” Zoro insisted.

“I don’t know, Zoro, but he looks – he looks scared of you! I swear, he does! You’ve been avoiding us, so you probably haven’t noticed – every time someone even mentions you, he goes all quiet and withdrawn. And the looks he gave you during dinner – it’s like he expected you to attack him or something. It’s bad – did something happen?”

“I don’t know,” he swore, shrugging his shoulders at Nami’s impatient sigh. “I really don’t. He was acting weird with me earlier on, for no fuckin’ reason. I don’t know why.” Nami searched his face, and seemed to believe him.

“Fine,” she said. “But you have to talk to him about it. Tonight. I mean it, Zoro,” she raised her voice over the beginnings of his objection. “You know what he gets like, when he’s all in his own head about something. This isn’t something that we can just leave alone. It’ll only fester, and turn into something ugly. Just, please – please go talk to him. I can’t have you guys not talking to each other, not after everything that happened. I really can’t.”

Zoro was tired – he wanted to sleep, to forget about everything that had happened over the past few days. He wanted to rest, not to dig up whatever insecurities were making the cook so pissy with him. But he looked at Nami’s face, at the deep bags under her red-rimmed eyes, at the way her lips were still trembling, belying the fact that she was still close to tears. He looked at her, and found himself nodding.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.” She nodded, and managed a small, shaky smile for him.

“Good,” she whispered, taking his hand again and squeezing it tight. “And then get some sleep, you look like shit.”

Sanji was on watch. He’d insisted vehemently at the dinner table that he was well enough to do his shift, turning down Brook and Franky’s offers to take his place, and shrugging off Chopper’s insistences that he needed to rest . Zoro was positive that the only thing that had stopped Chopper from locking the cook in the infirmary for the foreseeable future had been Luffy’s hand on his little head, and his gentle reminder that Sanji was free to do what he wanted. He knew they all saw the complicated array of emotions that had flashed over the cook’s face at their captain’s words, though none of them had mentioned it.

When Zoro opened the hatch to the crow’s nest now, he didn’t miss the way Sanji flinched. Nor did he miss the way the cook’s shoulders seemed to hunch, as though he wanted to make himself smaller where he was curled up on the bench. Zoro frowned, and forced himself not to hesitate as he climbed the rest of the way into the room.

“Cook, we need to talk about this,” he said, knowing that the cook was fully aware of what he meant. Sanji didn’t answer him, eyes fixed firmly on the horizon. “Sanji.”

“You don’t have to yet,” Sanji’s voice was strained, and it was shaking. Zoro clenched his fists at the sound. And at his words. “I’m still – I’m still me.” He finally turned to face him, and Zoro sucked in a harsh breath. Because Sanji looked ill, his face pale and his eyes red, his bruises standing out sickeningly in the light of the nest. But worse than that, he looked afraid, just like Nami had said. Afraid of Zoro.

“Cook, what–”

“I know that – I know my body is – is fucked now, but – but I’m still – I’m still me, Zoro. I promise. I promise I’m still me. It’s not – it hasn’t happened yet. So you don’t – you don’t have to – I’m not going to hurt anyone. I swear. I swear, I won’t hurt anyone–”

“Stop it,” the words felt forced out of him the way a punch forces air out of lungs. Zoro had taken the blade of the world’s strongest swordsman straight to the chest. He had accepted Luffy’s pain at Thriller Bark, his body taking a beating no normal human should ever be able to survive. Two years ago, he had failed his captain so thoroughly that he knew he would never be able to atone for it. Somehow this hurt worse.

Sanji flinched again. “Marimo. Zoro. I’m not a monster yet.”

“I never fucking said you were,” Zoro replied hoarsely, and something in his voice must have gotten through to the cook, because his face lost some of that defensive fear and edged a bit closer to confusion.

“I – I thought–”

“I don’t fucking care what you fucking thought, cook,” Zoro’s volume was increasing, but he couldn’t help it. Not when he’d done this. “I’m not here to – to fucking kill you. I – did you seriously think I was?” Sanji’s eyes flashed at the incredulous tone, and Zoro could only feel relieved as his own voice started to rise, his tone beginning to carry some anger in place of that horrible, horrible fear.

“Well, fucking – yes! Yeah! I fucking did, because what the fuck else am I supposed to think, huh?” His hands flew up to his head in that way they so often did these days. He tugged on his hair, even as the pull on his injuries made him wince. “You’ve been – you look at me like – what the fuck else am I supposed to think, when you can barely even look at me anymore? And – and you all saw it – you saw it. Fucking – shot in the fucking head, and I can just walk it off? What the fuck does that make me if not a fucking monster?”

“You call this ‘walking it off’?” Zoro bit out, feeling nauseous. “Look at yourself, cook, you’re barely even able to stand. And besides, we’re an entire crew of monsters, you’re nothing special. I’m not going to fucking kill you just because your skin got an upgrade.”

“An ‘upgrade’?” Sanji gestured to himself, his hands shaking. “How is this an ‘upgrade’? How is – fucking – any of this Germa bullshit –” His breathing was picking up, and his eyes were wide and staring blankly down at his hands. Zoro cursed inwardly, stalking across the room before he could talk himself out of it. He seized Sanji’s shoulders, his cast making it difficult to get a proper grip, and ignored the way the other man tried to back away from him.

“Cook – Sanji, listen to me,” he shook the cook’s shoulders until he looked up from his hands and met his eyes. “I’m not going to kill you. Because you’re right – you’re not a monster. And whatever the fuck is up with your body now doesn’t have to be bad – it can be an ‘upgrade’ if you let it, but only if you let it.”

“No, no,” Sanji was shaking his head now, as if Zoro agreeing with him on this was suddenly the last thing he wanted. “You don’t – you don’t understand. You don’t – it’s happening. It is. It’s happening. I can’t–”

“Nothing is happening,” Zoro insisted, squeezing his shoulders and shaking them again. “Hey. Nothing is happening, okay? We won’t let it. You’re fine. You are.” Sanji just kept shaking his head.

“Zoro,” he whispered, and Zoro felt his eyes burning at the utter hopelessness in his voice. “I don’t want to be like them. I’d rather be–”

“Don’t,” Zoro shook him so hard his teeth clacked together, and he couldn’t help the harshness of his tone, because that was – that was – “You’re not allowed to think that. Not ever. Got it? Got it?” Sanji looked at him, eyes wide as he searched Zoro’s face. Whatever he saw there – fury, or maybe terror – seemed to shake him out of his panic. He took a shuddering breath, and his hands came up to rest on Zoro’s forearms, squeezing the uncasted arm tightly.

“Yeah,” he whispered hoarsely. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Zoro, hey,” and now he was the one trying to sound reassuring, because Zoro felt very fucking close to falling apart himself. “I’m sorry.”

“Just – just don’t fuckin’ do that. Don’t ever do that, cook. Not to us.”

“I know. I know, I would never. I was just – I’m just scared, Zoro. This – this scares me.” Zoro nodded, and swallowed thickly. He squeezed Sanji’s shoulders one more time before releasing him and moving to sit on the bench. After a long moment, Sanji joined him. “It might get worse,” he said, still whispering. Zoro turned to look at him, but he was staring out the window again. “It might actually happen. Me becoming – one of them.” Zoro clenched his fists. He wished he could deny it, but that was the real kicker. None of them could.

“If it does, we’ll fix it,” he said instead, and was relieved to find that he believed it. “Luffy will fix it. He’s a fuckin’ god now, cook, remember? If anyone is capable of miracles, it's him.” Sanji scoffed, and then chuckled, a weary sounding thing that lifted a weight off of Zoro’s chest nevertheless.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”

They fell silent for a long while, watching the calm sea stretched out before them. Zoro was so, so tired. He’d experienced more pain and terror and bone-deep relief over the past few days than he had in a long time, and his body was begging him for a rest. But when he turned to the cook again after the companionable silence had stretched for over an hour, it was to find the other man one step ahead of him.

He watched the cook’s slender shoulders rise and fall with each breath as he slept. Watched the way his fingers twitched every now and then, the way his eyes moved restlessly under their lids. He looked at the bruises decorating his face, his neck. He remembered Jin’s hands, twisted in the cook’s hair. Jin’s smile, the way it had stretched wider with every noise of pain drawn from the cook’s mouth.

He remembered the hatred he’d felt coursing through his veins, and the absolute powerlessness to do a single damn thing about it.

“I’m going to get stronger,” Zoro said quietly. A promise, to his friends and to himself. “I’m going to get stronger. This will never happen again.”

Sanji slept on. Zoro kept watch.

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: East Blue (Part One)

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby  || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

so!! hey folks. as i’ve mentioned before, to mark the upcoming chapter 1000 (holy shit!!) as well as my blog’s first anniversary this december, i decided it would be a good time to go back and put together some highlight reel posts of my favorite panels/moments/scenes from each saga and some commentary about what i think the best parts of each arc and the series as a whole are and why, as a celebration of just how far one piece has come and how many fantastic moments we've had so far! 

this will be quite a series of rather long posts- they’ll all be tagged #the voyage so far, if you’d like to avoid this messy retrospective. i'll be posting one saga a day each day until chapter 1000's official release on january 3rd!

honestly, i’m opening with this panel because it has a special place in my heart: i’m pretty sure it was the first time that one piece ever made me laugh. 

the entire prologue does a really good job of setting up the tone for the entire rest of the story. i think i haven’t really written much about it before, but i really love romance dawn. it hits the exact mix of humorous and serious that’s practically one piece’s trademark tone, and introduces us to some of the main themes of the series: inherited will especially, and the theme of freedom, and the idea of betting your life for what you love. 

technically this isn’t the first time we see luffy as an adult- he punches out the sea king before this- but it is his formal introduction, as well as (in the chapter title) the first time he’s referred to as strawhat luffy/mugiwara no luffy. 

i really like a lot of these very early panels of luffy, really. i’m a writing person, not an art person, so i can’t really explain why, but there’s something about how he’s drawn that i think is just delightful for some reason. i like the earlier one piece art a whole lot in general, even though it’s often much less intricate and more simple than the current artstyle (which is not by any means bad either!! it’s just different). i think it fits the atmosphere of the start of the story very well- a journey just starting out. 

he’s going to be pirate king!!

i’ve complained before about how zoro’s backstory doesn’t really hit the way a lot of the others do, mostly because it goes so fast, and kuina’s death is unfortunately the closest the series comes to fridging, but- that said, i do really like the core of it. i really like zoro being motivated by a promise to the one friend and rival he could never beat, and i love how this moment is what he cites later on while facing mihawk: a promise to a friend. 

i love all the strawhats and their dynamics, and seeing the crew grow and develop and become a family over the course of hundreds of chapters is one of the great joys of one piece, but i think i’ll always have a soft spot for luffy and zoro’s relationship. there’s never really any conflict between them after their very first meeting; there’s loyalty and dedication and understanding there that starts from this moment and never really wavers.

it makes me grin to see the two of them, here at the start of it all. they don’t have a flag or a ship or a destination, yet, but this is the start of the strawhat pirates.

this series will probably reveal that i have a great weakness for group shots, and i think oda is particularly good at them- especially in these earlier arcs, you can usually see every character’s personality and feelings coming through in how they’re placed and what they’re doing. 

i had actually forgotten that usopp did this, and while i know kuro was egging him on on purpose, i feel like he doesn’t get enough credit for being a reckless idiot sometimes. there’s a reason he fits in as a strawhat, after all, even if he himself isn’t always aware of it. 

this is a lovely panel just on its own, but i think it (and all the other appearances of sunrise and dawn in the story) hits different now, with all the 'coming dawn’ theming that’s been established in recent arcs. 

oda often absolutely nails his use of negative space to emphasize heavy little moments like this, and i for one absolutely love it. this one in particular gets me in the heart. 

i like how you can reread some of these early arcs and see nami’s affection for the crew growing in little moments like these, and it’s very sweet, but there’s also a quiet kind of sadness in knowing she’s spending the whole time knowing she’s going to have to betray and leave them eventually. 

i LOVE the new crewmate toasts. they all always look so happy.

also, in my opinion, this is the first time the strawhat pirates feel like a proper crew. they have a SHIP now! and just after this, they get their jolly roger to seal the deal. 

it is my opinion that sanji has one of the best character introductions i’ve ever seen. in just a few chapters we know just about everything we need to know about him: he's not to be fucked with, he has extremely high respect for food and absolutely none for morons, and the first genuine smile we see from him is when he gives a free meal to a starving man. 

i think about this moment a lot, really. luffy knows almost nothing about sanji at this point. he hasn’t tasted his food- he doesn’t even know his name. but he’s seen sanji give free food to gin for no other reason than that he’s hungry and it’s right, and that’s all it takes for luffy to decide that sanji is gonna be his cook. 

baratie is mostly a serious arc (and leads into the even more serious arlong park), but it has some really good funny moments towards the start and this is one of them. you know they’re friends because they all just start roasting luffy without sympathy or hesitation. 

i’ve mentioned before that the zoro and mihawk fight was one of the big things that hooked me on one piece (the other being sanji’s backstory), but the way it ends, especially, is one of my favorite moments in the whole series. i love,, strawhat loyalty moments. carve “any complaints, pirate king?” on my fucking grave. 

sanji has a lot of really great action panels in this arc, but this is one of my favorites mostly because his combat abilities are being revealed to the audience at the same time they’re revealed to a lot of the characters watching. i can’t remember who pointed it out but sanji’s character design (especially pre-timeskip) just really looks like he’s designed for kicking- shiny black shoes, about 70% leg- and it really shows in panels like this. 

sanji and zeff’s chronic inability to communicate is kind of the emotional core of baratie, and i think sanji calling the restaurant zeff’s treasure sums up the entire conflict between them very neatly. of course zeff values sanji way more than the restaurant, but zeff will never tell that to his face and sanji has negative zero self-worth so he’s never going to figure it out on his own. so they’re basically in a stalemate. 

sanji’s backstory is absolutely brutal. we spend a truly agonizing amount of time literally just watching him slowly starve to death. it’s no secret that oda is really amazing at backstories, but i think sanji’s is probably one of the most effective at driving home exactly where his very specific mindset as an adult comes from. it’s hard to even read this section and not come away with at least a little more appreciation for food. 

(to be continued in east blue part two!)