It was like a dance macabre.
With a quick glance he counted the amount of creatures looming over them like an endless gruesome wall. A thousand, no less. The ring over them was narrowing menacingly, already close enough for an assault. But the creatures weren't the only ones who were ready.
His spine felt the warmth of a human body pressed against him from behind. He felt the man's heavy breathing, felt the muscles of his back tensing. Sanji desired to fight no less than he did.
"No less than a thousand, huh?" The cook chuckled excitedly. Zoro felt the back of his companion shifting; a clink of a lighter was followed by a harsh inhale. The bitter scent that was so familiar filled Zoro's nostrils, and at that moment he was ready to admit it was the most welcomed smell in the world for him.
"Ready, shit-cook?" The swordsman grinned without drawing his eyes away from the infernal throbbing wall.
"Always ready, shitty Marimo."
Blood in Zoro's veins was pumping eagerly, and the second he clenched his fingers tight over the hilts of his katanas he thought his heart would explode with overwhelming pressure. He rushed forward, bringing Kitetsu's blade down sharply in the fusty air. The steel of his unmerciful partner sliced through the dark flesh, glowing with delight as the blood of their targets spilled over his edge. Zoro grinned, swinging calm Shusui for a strike. The more experienced comrade of his accepted his prey concentrated. He wasn't quivering with desire like Kitetsu always was, singing his malicious pleas for more blood and more kills.
The dark parts of sliced bodies were filling the cracked earth more and more with every Zoro's movement. Every movement of his body that was inextricably linked with his three everlasting partners.
Slicing the creature's body in two, feeling fresh, still heated blood on his hands, Zoro couldn't suppress a slight groan. Feeling his master's excitement, Kitetsu jolted in his hand, craving for more. And it was Zoro's pleasure to give them both what they wanted.
"Concentrate, moron!" The cook's voice pierced the air. With his peripheral vision the swordsman noticed a bloody shadow fly past him, sent by a swift kick.
"How many?" Zoro asked without looking at the cook.
"One hundred and five," Sanji's voice tensed at "five", and Zoro heard a sound of another impact. "Six. You?"
"One hundred and seven," He grinned widely, cutting off the head of a creature with one graceful movement of his most loyal ally – Wado. "Eight now."
Sanji chuckled amusedly, pressing his back to Zoro's again. He panted; the heat radiated from him even more than it had been from the start. The swordsman clenched Wado in his teeth firmer, knowing perfectly well what attack his partner was planning. In a flash, Sanji jumped onto Zoro's shoulder, his foot barely touching the tensed muscles, before he brought himself down, smashing the monsters around them with mightiest blows.
Zoro dashed aside the same second, brandishing all three swords and demolishing a bunch of hissing shadows. They emitted painful groans as they fell to the ground, their lethal wounds vomiting an insane amount of scarlet flows that made both Zoro's and Kitetsu's spirits fulminate with a rhapsody of rapture. The swordsman lowered his eyes only for a second, euphoric from feeling the blood covering his body and his most savage sword burning his skin with gratitude.
Sanji desperately tried not to distract himself by admiring the perfect, fast motions Zoro was making, slicing the creatures with an ecstatic glint in his dark eyes. He was entirely covered in blood of his prey, his black bandana and white shirt had turned maroon, blood dripping from his jaw and his deadly blades.
The blond turned swiftly to bring another shadow down; his foot smashing its skull and revealing a bloody mess. He jumped forward - Collier shoot!, upwards - Épaule!, then twisted his body, dropping himself down into a handstand position: Côtelette! The cook jumped up, straightening, catching his sharp breath. He needed to take them down faster; otherwise his lungs would explode without the needed inhale of his favorite poison.
"Three hundred and forty seven!" He exclaimed, smirking.
"Three hundred and forty eight," The swordsman replied on the edge of his breath, bringing the blade in his left hand to attack his next target. Out of the corner of his eye Sanji noticed Zoro's left hand moving wilder compared to the graceful shots of his right one.
The hissing noise sounded right into the blond's ear, he flinched and threw his leg up, sending the dangerously close monster to the air.
"Who told me to concentrate, Cook?" Zoro shouted from the side, a dozen of corpses falling by his feet.
"Shut up!" Sanji barely collected himself not to send him a kick. I'll punish him later.
The shadow's ranks thinned out visibly; with each strike of every of his swords Zoro destroyed dozens of bodies. Sanji was not far from him, crushing skulls and ribs of the black bizarre figures with sharp kicks of his murderous legs. About a hundred of them were remaining when Sanji suddenly heard a clinking of teeth, followed by sudden pain in his right shoulder.
"Shit!" He cursed furiously, kicking the shadow and stomping onto its twitching, ruined flesh.
"Idiot! Be careful!" Zoro shouted, rushing closer to the blond. "You okay?"
"Behind you!" Sanji's eyes widened: a large shadow towered over the swordsman. Without thinking, he jumped onto Zoro's shoulders with his hands down, ignoring the throbbing pain in his wound.
"Bouquetière Shot!" He sent a strong kick to the monster's chin.
He felt Zoro's muscles tense, a sinister aura radiating from him. Realizing that it was the time for the final blow, he collected all his power.
Zoro crossed his arms and lowered his head slightly. The moment he dashed forward, Sanji jumped off of his shoulders, towards their enemies.
The rest of the shadows landed on the ground with thuds, raising a dirty cloud of dust.
Zoro threw a glance at Kitetsu, whose pulse was still erratic after the experienced bliss, now satisfied. Taking Wado out of his mouth, filled with the taste of steel and blood, Zoro placed her gently into her saya; Shusui following. He brought Kitetsu closer to his face, observing his stained blade.
Sanji panted, looking at the battlefield full of corpses and gore, his hands resting on his knees. The pain in his shoulder wasn't really disturbing him, he was pleased with a mess they did together with Zoro. He raised his eyes at the swordsman, who licked some blood from his katana and then placed it gently to the scabbard.
He approached, his steps quiet. The blond shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
"Five hundred and one," The green haired man uttered. His lips were covered in blood, his voice sounded husky.
"Fuck you," Sanji took a deep drag of his cigarette, tobacco cracking slightly as he inhaled.
"Here, take this."
Zoro took off his bloodstained bandana from his head and handed it to the blond. Sanji's brow rose.
"Why would I need this piece of bloody trash?" He snorted.
"To bind up your wound, moron," Zoro retorted, but despite his words his voice wasn't annoyed. Sanji jerked the offered cloth out of the swordsman's hand.
"I'll beat you next time," He uttered quieter than he wanted, tying up the crimson bandana over his injured shoulder.