He runs. Where are they? He doesn't know. He needs to know. He's supposed to know.
He runs. Houses, shops, businesses, alleyways, all pass in a blur. At some point he realizes he's gone back to where he started. Stupid streets, always changing around to get him lost.
He runs. Desperately he searches, trying to keep his head straight so he can find the docks. Where was he stupid curly-cook? He must have gotten lost. Oh well. Serves him right fo being an idiot.
He runs. He can hear someone fighting, His rubber-brained captain must have started some trouble. But how does he get to the next street? All he wants is to cut his way through, but the witch will bonk him if he does. He'd rather not get bonked.
He runs. The fighting gets quieter, he must be moving away. He turns back. The fighting gets louder. Is there a street that goes to the right? He reaches the end of the the street. The fighting sounds are gone. Dammit.
He runs. He's back where he started, the stupid sword shop next to the stupid takoyaki shop next to the stupid bar. Maybe a beer would help? He gets a beer (Sanji's sake is better) and walks toward the door. The door opens he is literally punched in the face.
He blinks from his spot now on the floor.
"Zoro!" says a familiar giggling voice.
Stupid, idiotic, rubber brained- he rolls just in time to avoid the rubber bodyslam of a welcome hug.
"Zoro~" his nineteen year old captain whines, then notices the blood dripping from his first mate's nose.
"What happened to you?" he asks, one pinky digging for gold.
"You happened, idiot!"
"Shishishi, sorry Zoro!"
"Whatever."