When The Winter Comes

It was really cold that day. The sun was safely tucked behind the thick winter clouds, out of sight and only the dim illumination above proving that it was there.

He was wrapped up warm but he still felt cold. He always felt cold these days.

He walked across the frozen over ground, all trees bare and crackling in the crisp wind.

There were so many stones here, everywhere. Last time he'd been here, there were only a few.

He walks further, up onto a cliff like area where two familiar tributes stood, grand and unforgettable, just like they had once been.

It's funny, he finds himself thinking as he arrives at a familiar stone recently added beside the other two, how quickly something that once was special turns into something that isn't, and instead something that haunts you every time you see it or think of it and you occasionally want to blow it off the face of the earth, but you can't because that's the only memory you have left to prove that person existed.

He let out a sigh, his warm breath coming out in a puff of white steam.

He put his hands in his pocket, trying to warm them up because he'd just been touching the cold stone, hands embedded in the soft snow that sat atop it.

Two things registered at once.

He first noticed that it wasn't particularly warm inside his pockets and the second thing, the more important thing, was that he felt the familiar texture of paper, or an envelope.

His finger and thumb clasped around a slightly bent corner and he pulled it out.

It was an envelope, the flap poorly stuck down and the messy scrawl on the back could only belong to one person.

They had been walking around a park that day, just the two of them as usual because they never really got a lot of alone time on the Sunny. He must have slipped it in then, somehow without him knowing, because that had been the first day he wore this coat and last day before—

He bit into his bottom lip, ignoring the horrible metallic taste that he knows far to well, and the sudden burning sensation in his eye. His good eye.

He stared down at the envelope, his fingers trembling in earnest as he slowly opened it, partially afraid what he might see and maybe also losing the ability to hold himself together because the others can't and he feels he needs to. Somebody needs to.

He succeeded in opening it, slowly but surely and soon he had forgotten why he had come here in the first place. To grieve? To put himself through pain? To beg for forgiveness and hope that he heard- hope that the guilt would go away?

No. He didn't know why, but perhaps that was okay.

He slowly took out the piece of paper that was unceremoniously lodged inside and opened it.

In the middle of the paper was that simple and messy scrawl.

'Love you, Zoro!'


Authors Note: Yeah I don't know where this came from... it's just some random angst that I oozed out during class even though I should really be finishing up the latest chapter of When In Doubt...