Even when they are gone, he remains. Though, he's not quite the same...
(Tend to Grieve)
The vendor looks at him oddly when he asks for cotton candy. Granted, he's an intimidating man, with a hand on his swords and one eye, obviously a fighter, but he takes the pink colored treat like it was the most important thing in the world.
He pays the man, drops a few coins in a jar labeled 'Tips', then goes to the next stall to find a coat. He's been thinking about visiting some islands up North recently. He haggles with the clothing vendor, demanding the price be cut in half, before they eventually resolve the issue. He walks away with pink candy fluff on his fingers, and a forty-three percent discounted parka (he's getting better at driving a hard bargain).
He's had enough of the pop-up market in the streets today, so he leaves to find the town's library. It's an old building, probably the oldest on the island, and the rooms smell of leather and glue. He asks the librarian (a kind old woman who looks as though she might wither away at any moment) about the island's history, and she tells him where to find the books on local lore. He grabs a few on plants as well that he sees on a small display. He reads them a bit, deciding that the tribe of nomads who lived there some hundreds of years ago was fairly interesting, as well as the native 'Gargling Tulip', which apparently spits out small black seeds with the same speed as a bullet (only after making strange, mouthwash sound). The librarian tells him they're about to close, though he can always come back tomorrow. He doesn't think he will, having already planned on leaving the next morning, but he thanks the woman anyway.
He feels a little hungry, so he walks down the street, and is drawn in by the loudest and brightest place in town- the local tavern. He orders steak (which is not the best he's ever had, but fairly decent) with a bottle of sake, and sits alone at the bar. A woman is sitting a few seats down, looking a little lonely, so he goes over to talk to her. They have a pleasant enough conversation, mostly about things to do on the island- at least, until some of the men in the tavern decide she's pretty enough to be interesting. The hairiest of them swaggers over and puts a hand on the woman's shoulder, saying something about finding 'better company' than the green haired man.
Noting her uncomfortable and slightly scared expression, said man's hands fly to the swords in his belt. It's instinctive, a reflex born from years of fighting. However, before he even draws them, he brings a foot up to kick the drunkard away instead. The brute slams into the wall with a painful groan next to where a couple amateur musicians are playing, causing them to stop playing and the rest of the tavern to quiet, watching the stranger. He apologizes to the girl, pays for his food, and leaves.
It's really getting dark now, so he decides to find a place to stay for the night. He hums a little bit, a cheery tune about delivering sake and adventures, though it sounds a little odd in the otherwise empty night. He squints through the heavy purple fog that just rolled in, trying to look for a place with room and board.
He makes his way to a hotel, just a small building that probably used to be a house, but was converted into a place for travelers to kick their feet up. The girl running the front desk looks vaguely surprised when he asks for a room, before handing him a key she takes from an otherwise filled board of hooks and keys. She asks if he wants anything to eat or drink before he turns in for the night. He says he already ate, but he would like a cola, if they have any. The girl hands him a bottle from the ice box in the back, he grabs a newspaper from a stack on the counter, and goes up to his room.
After letting himself in, he looks around the single bed room, deciding it will be fine for just tonight. He drapes his new coat over the back of the only chair in the room, before pulling his swords from his belt and setting them on the table. He debates cleaning them, but he hasn't actually used them in a fight since last week, so he decides to forego sword care until tomorrow. He puts down the paper, face up, so the headline is readable:
'IN THE WAKE OF EXECUTION, GREATEST SWORDSMAN ON THE RUN'
The headline is accompanied by a bounty poster, and the man notes how old the picture is. Even though it was taken years ago, though, the green hair and scowl are still clearly recognizable. He sees them every morning in the mirror, after all.
He scans the article, looking to see if they published anything of note.
'Marine Fleet Admiral Coby warns the public of a dangerous figure who is still on the loose after the execution of the century. Roronoa Zoro, commonly thought of as first mate to the late Pirate King, Monkey D. Luffy, evaded capture and execution, and the man holding the title of 'World's Greatest Swordsman' is still at large. As the last surviving member of the Strawhat Pirates, the World Government has made Roronoa's capture and execution top priority, raising his bounty so high that only his former captain outstrips him. However, despite these efforts, Roronoa has continued to evade capture for the last six months. Fleet Admiral Coby gives a few words about the situation:
"Zoro? Oh, Zoro-san! Yes, I wish I could speak with him... I- I mean, capture him! Ha, yeah, wait, what was the question? Oh, some advice for the public? Hmm... don't piss him off, I guess. He could slice you up before you blink! BWAHAHA! Good old Zoro. I hope he's doing okay... I mean, I hope to capture him! Soon! Yes, very soon! Only problem is that he mows down every ship we send after him, cuts 'em in half like cheese. BWAHAHA! Anyway, I got my best people on the job. Most of the time."
Keeping the Fleet Admiral's 'advice' in mind, if you should have any information that may lead to Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro's capture, contact your nearest marine base, or call Marine HQ at this number-'
The rest of the article is folded under. The man pays it no mind, preferring to think more about sleep.
He goes to the bed, sinking down into it blissfully. He doesn't sleep during the day anymore, but it makes him much more tired by the time night rolls around. He unties the string around his neck, lifting a straw hat from where it hung at his back and placing it on the bedside table carefully, before reaching over and turning out the light.
As the clutches of sleep grip his mind, Roronoa Zoro thinks about how sometimes, he doesn't feel like himself anymore.