One night in an unremarkable tavern, in an unfamiliar but unassuming port, Zoro was happy for the momentary break from his fellow crewmates and laid down enough Berri to get him nicely buzzed if the barkeep wasn't busting his chops on the quality of the top shelf stuff behind the bar.
The stuff was smooth for the first few rounds...then rougher...at first the swordsman figured he was being cheated. Top shelf his ass...until he got a taste of undissolved something at the bottom of his glass.
A memory flooded easily into him.
"Zoro, drink this!" Chopper held out the small cup of crushed bitter root mixed in a hot tea. "It will put you under so you don't move while I fix you up okay?"
He opened his eyes in recognition of the slight taste of bitter root and begin to spit it out...he only had maybe 20 seconds and he had to make them count. He stood too fast and went for his swords, cursing as dizziness rose up to meet him in a full head rush sending him to the floor in darkness.
The next time he awoke he was tied in what looked to be some refurbished wine cellar, his ropes binding his wrists over his head tied onto some oversized iron ring.
His bag was gone along with all the money it contained. As was his swords.
With a strength he normally only summoned for the toughest of opponents Zoro flexed out every muscle in his arms and tugged...snapping the rope as if it were twine.
The swordsman explored the cellar for about half an hour before coming to a hidden ladder and following it up to a storage space behind the Taverns kitchen.
To his dismay the tavern was deserted.
A walk toward town brought him to a mass of people crowding the town square. Zoro saw a little old woman watching the proceedings shrewdly and inquired what was going on.
"A big ruckus last night...apparently some of the local hooligans got a hold of some fancy weapons last night and wanted to try them out. One man...a sick sick man, apparently had abducted a little girl from the other side of town and..." She let the silence speak for the dirty omitted deed itself. "...and after that hacked her up."
A stone was twisting in the swordsmans stomach as he climbed atop a nearby barrel and cast his eyes toward the square. A corpse lay recently slain...a man he vaguely remembered from the tavern the night before. A large man was waving his hands furiously and pointing to a small bundle of what could have been red tinted cotton sheets but in all likely hood was the girls body.
"Her father found the man too late...and killed him." The lady continued sadly.
Zoro had been holding his breath...hoping...and nearly wailed when he saw it. There next to the corpse was WadÅ Ichimonji, white hilt nearly unrecognizable except to someone who knew its every curve and angle. Smeared with blood, dirt, and grime it stuck out of the planks of wood obscenely, the foul offender and partner to the now dead accused. A rapist and murder had taken the symbol of that innocent dream and memory of Kuina and violated a girl not unlike her and sliced her to pieces for no reason other then apparent fun.
Zoro couldn't even kill the bastard.
All he could do was walk forward through the crowd and beg the angry father to let Zoro take the bloody weapon that had slain his little girl and the two others he had since spotted tossed aside in the dirt near the large mans feet.
He would let the man hit him all he wanted. He needed his swords...and he needed to apologize...to the man, his fallen child, to Wadu and even Kuina. He would have to try and make amends somehow...although no ideas came to mind. He needed to wash the fifth off Wadu...and purify her as much as he could.
But first he had to walk to the stage...and face the father...face the town. He didn't even bother wiping the tears falling down his cheeks...there was too much wrong to stop them. Those tears needed to fall and start to wash away his guilt.