Chapter one
Sunlight gleamed above the nearly empty sea, its rays casting glaring reflections about the ocean. Calm waves hide violent undercurrents, ridden by thousands of exotic fishes. Tossed lightly from the azure waves, was an impressive ship, her rough wood deck gleaming proudly as the brilliant rays struck it. The majestic vessel creaked as the hot sun warmed her oaken planks, only to have them cooled by the ever turning waves. Seagull's cries filled the air as the birds swooped around the ship, wings brushing past intricate gold letters. The spidery writing spelled out her name, The Going Merry, a fine name for a fine ship.
Though at the moment it didn't seem as though the crew was very "Merry."
Voices echoed across the vast expanse of sea, losing themselves to the empty waves. Footsteps shook the quiet day as the crew rushed about, laughter and calls for others to "get off their lazy asses" kept the day lively.
Through the masses of movement there was a single figure, lying alone, and unmoving. His only contribution to the noise was the soft snores he issued every fifteen seconds or so through slightly parted lips. Vibrant green hair stuck straight up, all save for the few strands that fell across tightly closed eyes. His arms curled behind his head in substitution of a pillow, fingers knitted tightly together to keep his makeshift pillow from coming apart. The cotton shirt that clung to his muscular frame left no divot, scar, or muscle to the imagination.
A "swordsmen's' body" was the only way to explain it, chiseled to perfection, no muscle left un-tightened. To support the idea were three katana that lay next to him, beautifully carved sheaths polished to perfection. The position the blades told a story of their own, easy to reach and half drawn. The swordsman was ready for anything.
Or so he thought.
Blissfully dreaming of days gone by, the swordsman slept soundly through the shouts for "more water", and " Ussop, you missed a spot!". Sleeping was just more important than listening to his colleagues.
And in his sleep, swirled dreams of red and gold, greens and blues, the old and the new faces he knew all mixing together. Until finally they came to rest in his childhood. An old dojo warped with the explosions of abnormality that dreams cause swam before him. The sounds of the ship mixed with his dream, causing fighters-in-training to care about the state of sails and rigging.
The familiar yet distant walls rose before him as he stepped into the open room, feet padding on the tatami mats placed at the door. Students swarmed around him like ants, all swinging their practice swords, each swing sounding like the whistle of the wind past the mast. His eyes scanned the open room, finally coming to rest on the lithe figure of a young girl. Like a ghost, the beautiful girl drifted towards him, Kuina was her name, and he would never forget her. Never forget their promise. He walked forward to great her, and was rewarded by her thin lips parted into a sweet smile. With a delicate gesture of her hand she reached forward, gently settling the appendage on his cheek. The smooth fingers ran sensually down his face, coming to rest on his neck. With a shudder of happiness he listened for the sweet voice he remembered so well-
Only to hear, not the whispers he wanted to, but a piercing voice, so obnoxious it ripped the young man from his dream and back to the busy deck of the ship.
"Oi! Shitface wake up!"
Anger coursed through the youth as he dragged his eyes open. He knew that voice, and (he swore this to god) if the reason for waking his up were something stupid he would kill the other man for sure.
His eyes locked onto his ears assailant as soon as he could keep them focused. A well-kept man of about eighteen stood over him. Short, yet shaggy blond hair hung neatly (some how it could be out of place yet still look organized (Zoro wasn't sure how)) over one eye, hiding it entirely from view. His towering form blocked the view, the familiar black pinstriped suit seeming to suck all light out of the area. The blonde's long legs stretched up on either side of him, giving the illusion that he was nine feet tall instead of only six. Ashes from a cigarette clasped between the man's slender fingers fluttered through the air, landing on the swordsman's shirt.
With an angry hiss, he brushed them off, hoping the white material wouldn't hold the gray stain. He glowered up at the other man, trying to send his hatred through an invisible beam and cause him to spontaneously combust. It didn't happen, nor did the chef taking the hint and leaving. With a resigned grimace and a heavy sigh Zoro decided he might as well find out what the ecliptic man wanted.
"What do you want Sanji?" he queried angrily.
"Time to get up and pull your weight Marimo-head."
"Zoro, thanks. I like my name."
With a roll of his eye, and a slight downward twitch of one impossibly looped eyebrow the cook sneered. The tug of his lip revealed impossibly white teeth.
Impossibly, thought Zoro, that's the only thing that describes this guy. Impossibly tall, impossibly weird eyebrows, impossibly ugly…
Zoro felt himself smile.
Sanji obviously didn't seem to like the reaction to the sneer, for it was quickly replaced by an angered expression, twisted enough that the pair of veins in his temple began to throb. This only made Zoro's grin wider. He loved it when the cook looked bad. It was nice to know that a guy like him could look just as bad as everyone else at times. Sensing the glee at his current disposition the other man changed his face to a look of sardonic amusement.
"No grog with your dinner if you don't get up, lazy-ass."
Zoro sighed. Sanji had beaten him. With a small grunt he worked his way into a sitting position, then straightened his back with a loud pop. After years of stress his body often made noises as loud as the ships. He let his head roll back on his neck, reveling in the grinding noise it made. He heard the cook snort in disgust, and decided to crack a few more bone. Then with a contented smile he stood, yawned loudly and walked off to find out his duties. Of course he made sure to run his shoulder into the other man's before departing. Sanji glared, Zoro smiled, it was going to be a good, long day of pissing the hell out of the uppity prick.
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Several hours later the crew sat on the newly cleaned and polished deck, every member eating their dinner, all in the blissful state that comes with completing a difficult task. The sun sat low in the sky, sending hues of pink, purple and red skittering across the waves. The colorful ocean lapped gently against the side of the ship, sending small sprays of salt water cascading into the air. The tang of the water, and the sweet smell wafting off the distant shore swirled around them, mixing with the aroma of the food, creating a sensual, and romantic atmosphere. Stars were peeping through the veil of dusk, little tinkling lights dotting the sky, in a breathtaking mosaic of sizes. Dark red and purple clouds lined the horizon, the prow of the ship headed straight for them.
The scrape of silverware and chatter of voices filled the air, causing a thick buss of activity noises. Zoro poked at his food with his fork, scraping the metal against the pottery plate. Small screeches reverberated in his ears. The food wasn't the cause of his lack of eating activity, in fact it looked quite delicious. He was sure it tasted amazing as well, Sanji's cooking always did, since he filled it with the freshest of ingredence. The basil was fresh and the tomato blend (as Sanji had put it, heaven forbid you called it "tomato stuff") was scrumptious, based off his sense of smell. It was just something in the back of his mind, like a blinking light that screamed disaster. Even his growling stomach couldn't make him eat. The feeling made him to queasy.
"Hey!"
Zoro raised his eyes a fraction from food, bringing them to rest on the shiny black shoes that belonged to only one person. The only idiot on the ship who shined his shoes and wore a dress suit at all times. His eyes shot up to Sanji's face, the realization that he hated the other man swimming to the front of his thoughts. With an upward, rolling flick of his eyes he replied to blond's angry, questioning look.
"what do you want?"
"I put a lot of effort in to that. You better eat it."
"I'm not hungry now, Ill eat it later."
Sanji narrowed his eyes, and Zoro got the feeling he had done something more than offend him. It was seldom that the cook looked at him with something other than distain. Anytime it had happened had been alcohol induced, and he had gotten plenty death-glares after the fact.
Sanji sighed and sat heavily on the deck, crossing his long legs in away that made Zoro think of a book he had read once, something about a genetically mutated man who looked like a spider….
Before he knew what was happening the blond had stolen his fork. Zoro could only stare in shock as the other man twirled the noodles around the utensil, balling then around the prongs. Then he held them up, a straight expression across his face. His eyes locked with Zoro's. The sauce made a plopping noise as it fell from the tightly wound noodles and fell back to the plate. Zoro blinked, as soon as he did he knew it was the wrong thing to do.
Like a shot Sanji was on him, forcing the noodles into his mouth.
With a gurgle of rage the Zoro attempted to pull away, but the chef was one step ahead of him. With a strange yoga type move he wrapped one leg around Zoro's waist, putting his free hand on his chest and forcing him to lie on the deck.
Then he sat on him.
With a strangled cry of "I'm going to kill you" Zoro attempted to free himself, but to no avail. With his left hand Sanji held the fork, while his right darted forward and seized Zoro's jaws, wrenching them open the cook had won. Mouthful after mouthful of tomato-sauce drenched noodles were shoved into his mouth until he was sure he was going to burst. Then the Cook stopped, stood up and calmly took all of the dishes into the kitchen.
After a pause Zoro sat up, feeling his stomach churning at the over consumption, and the rapid ingestion. He glowered at the other crewmembers, all of who were watching him, hysterical laughter bubbling from their mouths in endless streams. With a grunt he stood and headed to the kitchen, determined not to let his embarrassment show, and to make the chef pay for the actions.
With quick, bounding steps he crossed the deck, the loud thuds his feet made drowned out by the angry sound of blood pulsing through his ears. The nerve of the little prick, treating him like a child! Luffy had let him get away with far too much, if the chef hadn't been so damned talented…
Needless to say he wouldn't get away with half the things he did.
He grabbed the ornate metal doorknob and twisted, pushing the door open with one concise movement. There was no need to pause, not when he was so angry. With a meek squeak, the thick oaken door slid open. Zoro rarely when into the kitchen, and when he did, it had always been to help (and by help, he meant forced) to clean dishes.
The room before him could not be the room he had seen before. If it weren't in the same location, he wouldn't have believed it.
Copper pots and pans glowed warmly in the weak light still given off from the sun. The hung neatly over an island butcher table positioned in the middle of the large kitchen. Thick groves lined its surface, deep long gashes made by razor sharp knives. The floor was a gleaming lightwood, Zoro wasn't sure what it was, but it was a perfect fit with the dark counters. Shining cookware lined counter top, things that couldn't possibly be useful. Drawers lined the sides of the cabinets no doubt filled with strange cooking contraptions Zoro had never seen before. The smell of fresh baked sweets tickled his nose, making his mouth salivate.
In front of the large bay window sat the sink, currently blocked by the object of his indignation. Sanji was bent over a beautiful copper basin, filled to the brim with dishes and soapy water. His thin black covered frame was accentuated by the blinding orange glow of the setting sun, visible through the window in front of the sink. Blond locks seemed to bleed red and his head turned this way and that, trying to spot anymore grim on the pan he was cleaning. Sanji looked beautiful, picturesque. Sanji looked breathtaking.
Zoro stood there feeling as if someone had punched him in the gut, and stolen all of his air from his lungs. His knees went weak, and his breath came in short gasps. If he didn't know any better he would say that he was attracted to the other man.
Zoro didn't let himself finish the thought. In fact he hadn't even gotten through the word "attracted" before his brains over ride function had gone off. Zoro forgot his thought and walked out, almost forgetting why he had gone in in the first place.
With quick steps he crossed the deck, blocking out the other crewmember's calls for him to join them. He kept his head down, trying to remember what it was he had gone into the kitchen for, only nothing could come to his mind. It was as if a wall had gone around the memories of the past five minutes, preventing him from accessing them. The deck flew beneath his feet, seeming to jettison him to the sleeping cabin door.
He hadn't seemed tired, but upon seeing the door behind which his bed lay, he realized he was exhausted. Zoro reached up, arm suddenly led, and opened the door. Sighing tiredly he made his way down the steps, head spinning as sleep threatened to over take him. With fuzzy thoughts spinning through his head, he made his way down the familiar hallway. Two doors on the left three on the right, turn, grab doorknob, open door. Three steps to bed….
With clumsy fingers he undid the strap holding his katana to his waste, setting them perfectly in reach of the hammock, then flung himself into the folds of knitted rope. Zoro let the rocking of the ship lull him into a dreamless sleep.
After what seemed like seconds Zoro was ripped from his sleep by a loud bang. A deafening crack ran through the very timbers of the ship, making his blood run cold. In a heart beat he was out of bed, swing his leg in a wide arc to flip him self out of the hammock. The normally loud thunk of his boot was muffled by the wind howling, mimicking a pack of hungry wolfs outside the ship. The vessel lurched beneath him, launching him to the floor. He landed chest first, wind getting knocked from his lungs. He flung himself to his feet, if the ship were to sink the under-deck would flood. Zoro was fast, but water would always be fast. And water had the advantage of not having to breath.
he stepped forward, unconsciously letting his body sway slightly with the ship. If he found its rhyme, it would be easier to stand… but if it was a bad storm there would be no pattern to the waves and he was just wasting time. Abandoning his balance lessons he turned and dashed for the door, throwing it open just as a wave hit the hull. The violent force flung him forwards, smashing him viciously into the thick door across from him. Salty blood ran across his swelling lips, he didn't stop, stopping could mean death.
With a string of livid curses he made his way down the hall, pressing the flat of his palms to either wall on his sides, using the opposing force to help him stay upright. The fresh oil on the walls made his fingers slip, and every time the ship jumped from the waves, his head connected with a sickening crack with the firm oak planks. He stumbled down the hall, suddenly foreign to him, and searched desperately for the stairs. The hall seemed to stretch forever. The pounding of imaginary waves enclosed on him, and it seemed as though he was already submerged already drowning….
At last his steel-toed boot connected roughly with the bottom step, and he came crashing down to his knees, the joints connecting with the hard edge of it. He grunted in pain and sat on the step, noticing through the large new holes on the knees of his pants. His skin was torn, just enough that little wells of blood were bubbling up.
You wont notice the blood once you drown, his mind was screaming for him to move. The gurgling of water dragged him out of his daze, and the wave of salt water that splashed down the stairs drove him to his feet. Wet clothing clung to his body, hindering his movements. With sheer force of will, Zoro dragged his battered body to it's feet. The water dragged at his ankles, gurgling angrily. He sloshed forward, mind screaming for him to move as the water rose around him. With a shudder, he slammed his palms against the walls, while at the same time pressing the sides of his boots against the trim, putting himself in a spread eagle position.
With a forceful trust, and a growl of frustration, Zoro launched himself up the stairs, tripping as the water tugged him back. He boots were defiantly not stream-lined, he would have to remember to lift his knees higher if they ever had to escape through a stream, or something water related.
Zoro was so caught up in his thoughts, that he didn't notice the door until it was literally, right in front of him. With a painful thud, he collided with the thick frame. Zoro stumbled back with a gruff groan almost losing his balance in his daze. With a wild flail he snatched the handle of the door, holding the small orb tightly in his wet hands. Zoro's mind couldn't handle the He turned the slippery silver knob just as the ship pitched forward again, hurling him gracelessly onto the deck.
For the third time in less than four minutes Zoro smacked his face against a hard, wooden surface, only this time, he slid forward. On his face. With a cry of pain that was soon cut short by the torrential amount of water he sucked into his mouth, Zoro leapt back to his feet.
Rain was falling hard, the small drops leaving small harsh kisses on his bare skin. In seconds the last dry parts of his body were soaked. His hair plastered itself to his face with the water, it felt as though he had gotten in to the shower clothed. The rain darkened the sky to an ominous hue of black, the droplets fell so quickly they created a curtain, making it almost impossible to see. Thunder boomed around him, while lightning would light up the world for seconds at a time, making it as bright as day. The ship rocked hazardously, threatening to throw him over board at any minute. With every toss of the waves, more and more water spilled over the rails, tugging at his legs like frantic children.
Zoro lunged forward, dragging himself through the dangerously rapid water, hoping he was headed for the mast. He cried out for his companions, but the sound of the sea and rain muffled the desperate plea. With hands outstretched he sloshed through the water, fingers groping for the unseen mast. After what seemed like a lifetime the tips of his fingers smashed into the thick wood pole, every joint popping in protestation at the treatment. With quick trained movements Zoro found his safety line and tied it tightly around his waist.
Over, under, knot the end…
The thoughts flew through his mind, the many practices making the knot tight. With a quick twist he grasped the knobs behind him, the smooth wet wood comforting to his open palms. The end on pegs was secure, he would have no chance of falling over board. With out thinking he checked the others, giving each rope a deft tug to test how well it was secured. A mental check lest scrolled through his head as he grasped each rope, each ropes respective person popping briefly through his mind.
"Nami, Usopp, Luffy, Chopper, Vivi, Robin, Sa-"
Zoro panicked, the chef's line was gone. With desperate fingers he darted his hands over the pegs, praying that the man's line was sharing a peg with someone else's'. All only carried one knot.
Sanji's line was gone.
"Sanji!" he called out, knowing that the other man would never hear him over the crash of the waves and thunder. He dropped to his knees, blocking out the sting of the salt water on open wounds in his frantic search for the cook's lifeline. His hands sloshed through the deep water that had collected on the deck, the cold of it causing his fingers to become stiff. Chunks of hail mixed with the rain, battering his muscles as he clawed his way though the water on hands and knees. Seawater splashed against him, filling his nostrils with a fiery burn. A bewildered mind and tired hands caused him twice, to think he found the missing lifeline. Twice he was mistaken.
With a roar of frustration at his failure, Zoro lunged to his feet. If he told someone else they could help him look. Oh, if only he had said something before, the cook could be long gone by now….
No, Goddamn it! He's too ornery to die!
He sprinted across the now only slick deck, a lucky recess in the tide having sucked the water away. The stairs to the quarterdeck loomed above him, and with in seconds he had sprinted up them, muffled thuds accompanying his footfalls. As he tore around the corner his eyes locked on to his captain, his youthful face twisted with the effort it took to control his bucking ship. To his right stood the navigator, a beautiful woman, though right now her hair was disheveled do to the wind.
Zoro couldn't help but notice she was defiantly cold. And wet.. in a white shirt. With a grimace, Zoro tore his eyes from the woman's chest, he hated being attracted to that particular wench, especially in times when he had other things to focus on. He stumbled across the open deck towards the captain and his navigator, aware of the seas steady increase of activity. The storm was reaching its peak.
"Luffy!" he shouted as he saw the other man. The scream was to no avail. The wind ripped his words away and the sea swallowed them whole. There was no way his captain would hear him through the storm. The only possible way they could communicate would be if they were mere inches from each other's faces. With a groan, Zoro shot forward, slamming himself not only against the ships wheel, but sandwiching his captain in the process.
With a stupid grin Luffy looked at him, letting lose with a,
"well hello Zoro!"
"Sanji is gone!" Zoro stated calmly, unaware of where his relaxed tone came from. Luffy looked shocked for a moment, and seemed to be thinking. He gave Zoro a sort of, "are you sure" look, which Zoro promptly returned with a " yes you fuckstick I am".
"Tell the others, we will find him before he gets lost."
The captain spat, a hard determined tone to his voice. With a curt nod Zoro ran off, the navigator hot on his heels. (he figured the woman had been listening, leave it to her to HAVE to know what was going on.) The two arrived simultaneously at the mast, quickly taking a hold of other crewmembers lines. With sharp tugs the alerted the other members to danger. They all appeared quickly, eyes scanning through the haze to see who wasn't among them. Before a question was uttered he cut them off, yelling above the wind to his friends,
"Sanji is missing, there is a high probability he went overboard. Search for his, its first priority, on captains orders!"
They each gave a quick nod, letting him know they had heard and then ran to find their missing comrade. Zoro ran to the ships edge, eyes scanning the black sea for any signs of the blond. Large waves rolled high, the huge swells that they created could easily carry a man away in a matter of seconds. If he didn't find Sanji soon, he could be swept away.
He might already be gone, he thought bitterly.
The dark sky crackled and a brief flash of lightning light up the sea. The night way day for mere seconds, but that was all Zoro's trained eyes needed. Floundering in the waves, less than 50 yards away, was the cook. The lean man could only have been swimming for minutes, but with the current he probably felt it had been hours. The waves kept pulling the exhausted man further away from the ship, it was as if he were a child's toy on a string getting dragged around. With a yell to Luffy that he was sire the captain didn't hear, Zoro leapt into the water; body cutting through the rolling waves like a knife through butter.
Unfortunately the frigidness of the water cut even cleaner through his cloths, and then through his skin. His body reacted emmidiatly, causing rough twitches to course through him in an attempt to keep warm. His arms and legs struggled against the cold, freezing and becoming almost useless. Jumping in to save the Sanji could very well get them both killed.
With a wild kick of his legs, Zoro pushed himself in a direction he thought was up, body beginning to slowly propel itself slowly forward. His hands clawed towards the sky, his lungs screaming for air; small lights exploded in front of his eyes as his oxygen ran out. With a wild shout he broke the surface, arms flailing as he gasped for air. The under currants he had fought so hard to free himself from sucked at his legs, while waves tried like large hands to push him under. It seemed as though the entire ocean was against him.
When his lungs had had their fill of air, Zoro began his search for the floundering chef. The waves were so high above his head he could barely see, but when his particular patch of water rose, the sea was a perfect vista. Dark waves surged around him, acting as if they were a giant animal, breathing heavily in the euphoria of sleep. Through the endless black there was a sudden glint of gold, only illuminated by a sudden flash of lightning. With a recess in his surge, Zoro swam forward, dragging his body through the waves towards the floundering outline of a man.
Another flash of lightning, the night was day for only a second, just enough time for Zoro to see an alabaster hand slip into the waves. With a yelp of horror (which quickly filled his mouth with suffocating saltwater) he power-housed through the waves, diving through the larger ones to save time. If he didn't reach the chef in less than a minute, the he would never be seen again. There was no way to be sure where the cook had gone under, so with a deep breath Zoro dived.
The dark waters proved difficult to see anything in. The turbulent water pushed his body around as if it were a stick, nearly tossing him in circles at times. His open eyes burned, the over load of salt causing them to become blurry. He groped forward, trying to make it as low as possible to see if the cook was sinking. His ears popped as he got deeper, the pressure of the water squeezing him mercilessly. His lungs strained, shrinking as he dove deeper, causing air bubbles to escape his nose. Then, they couldn't take anymore. On instinct Zoro swiveled his body around and began frantically clawing his way to the surface; his lungs burned while his eyes felt as though they were popping out.
With a quick intake of breath he exploded from the water, throwing his head back and gasping for air; for the second time in only minutes. As suddenly as he had come up, something wrapped around his neck, momentarily pushing him under the swells. A head pressed to his shoulder, wet hair sticking to his neck. Small pants sent air swishing past his ears, obviously he was acting as someone's life raft.
"I thought, you'd all forget about me…"
He whispered, his voice nearly inaudible.
Zoro smiled, forgetting the other man couldn't see the expression. "Forget you? How could I possibly forget something so ugly?"
Sanji answered with a weak laugh, and then pulled himself closer to Zoro.
"You'll have to give me a minute, I'm to tired to think of a comeback…"
Zoro turned his head away, his smile disappearing as he remembered their plight. His eyes desperately searched for some sign of the Going Merry through the rolling, black waves. There was nothing as far as he could see, save for a small black shadow that marked a distant shoreline. Even that was hard to make out, even though
The ocean was desolate, the ship was had vanished. The now calm ocean swirled around the two shivering men, and stars shone coldly above, winking in supposed mockery. Had it been any other night, Zoro would have thought them pretty. But as the cold squeezed his chest and the weight of the cook dragged him down, there was nothing appealing about the distant balls of light.
With an awkward twist to look at the now unconscious Sanji, Zoro let out a resigned sigh, dragging his arms out of the water in wide arcs, grasping hand fulls of the sea as he dragged them to the island. Determination coursed through his body, there was no way in hell he'd let himself die like this. Though with no food or water, they were in deep trouble in the long haul. But for now, his main priority had to be reaching that shore, with the chef as a leaden weight it wouldn't be easy; but they had to reach the shore, and fast, if either of them were to live.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOO
All right. I decided to redo all of the orig. chapters because I think my style has improved and I wanted to let everyone see that in these chapters. Umm R&R. I'm hoping to get this story done by its start date. That way it was exactly a year in production. It'll take a while. My PT wants he to do less sitting with bad posture at a computer and more exercise ball stuff. (for those of you who don't know, I broke my back a few months ago)… I know I need an editor.
Tony