Well, what do you know. It's been ages and yet at 4:30 this morning, out comes a random bit of One Piece oneshot. Huh. Hope it's good.

Thinking about it, it had probably been one of the most intelligent decisions he could have ever made. And so simple.

Just keep quiet.

Zoro had taken it upon himself early in life to make this his mantra. It wasn't like he had picked an easy path in the world, so all things considered, the less he said, the better off he would be. Nothing good ever came of mouthing off. But as the case usually goes, for every idiot flapping his lips and showing how dumb he is, there is someone equally dumb who is only silent for lack of brain activity. And if you are a quiet someone like Zoro who wanders around with three swords on chasing criminals for bounty money, regardless of your actual reasons, you will be deemed a moron. Most sensible folk don't understand why anyone would choose to put themselves in harm's way like that, and if you can't (or choose not to) explain it, they will assume that you simply can't quantify the danger.

And as such, you're a moron. Zoro chewed on his lip. It wasn't very fair, but he couldn't complain. He'd had okay luck with it so far.

He was seated on the railing, doing bicep curls with his ridiculous weights. Sanji had been slaving in the kitchen for the past three hours trying to make the perfect Tuesday snack for Nami and Robin, occasionally shouting advice and what almost sounded like orders at the other men aboard, all of whom (save for Zoro) were busy trying to repair their sorry little ship.

Zoro hadn't volunteered to do anything, but he didn't feel all that bad about it; they were headed towards an island full of shipwrights, and the Going Merry had survived worse. It would hold together until someone competent could look at it. And obviously the girls weren't very concerned either, since Robin was deeply involved in a book; Nami was tanning, popping an eye open every so often to check the lock post.

During a rare moment when everything in the kitchen was stable, Sanji came out to patch up a few holes himself, managing to save Luffy's hammer right before it sailed into the ocean and putting it to better use than their captain had been doing. Zoro continued to observe, taking in the cook's handiwork from his vantage point and thinking he could do better, as he generally did with things he and Sanji could both do.

But five minutes seemed to be the limit that cooking food could be left to its own devices, because Sanji paused to glance at his watch, then cursed and rushed back towards the galley, though not without pausing for a minute or two to lavish compliments on the lounging females. Zoro was only vaguely surprised when the cook took even a second longer to glare up at him, perched above everyone as he was, glance back at the tenuous repairs (see: Usopp frantically hammering, Luffy making faces, Chopper struggling to not laugh himself into the box of nails), then back up at the swordsman, who was wondering why the silent question stayed silent.

I mean, really. Wondering if someone understood that a broken ship gave potential to sinking and watery death was something to be seriously asked of a crewmate. But apparently, Zoro was considered too dumb to even understand that concept. Sanji didn't ask, just muttered something that sounded like, "Shitty marimo meathead", and proceeded into his domain.

Here lay the true beauty of his choice to simply be quiet. With no effort on his part, he was somehow exempt from helping out since he might screw something up in his supposed thickheadedness. Minimal talking somehow managed to get him out of busywork unless an extra set of hands (that Robin couldn't handle) were really necessary.

Zoro shook his head to himself, since he was, in fact, intelligent enough to realize that all Usopp was doing was piling extra wood where it didn't need to be; if there had been any truly problematic breaks in the hull, they would have gone under long before. As it was, the Merry would make it to their next destination. So was it his fault he didn't want to waste his time with that nonsense? Of course not. But nobody asked. They assumed he was stupid and didn't realize what a hellish dire emergency they weren't in.

Or, well, maybe the girls didn't. But who really knew what was going on in those twisty minds of theirs? They probably thought everyone else was idiots and left it at that, though Nami left the tiller in his hands more often than she should have if she considered him to be like the others... Zoro frowned in the ladies' general direction briefly before deciding to turn himself around and look at the ocean instead. He wanted a change of scenery anyway, not that he didn't also want to avoid catching hell from Nami if she noticed him making faces. Sometimes just blinking at her wrong could get you fined. And any Nami fussing came with twentyfold Sanji bitching, which was never worth it if it could be avoided.

As his weight-lifting count soared into the two thousands, the swordsman's thoughts turned back to his near vow of silence, which he'd been successful with until he met Luffy. As their adventures and companions piled up, he'd found his lips loosening more than he really wanted them to. But it had worked out. Thanks to his training, the only things he couldn't keep to himself were insults about other people's intelligence. And for some reason, no one seemed to catch on to exactly how Zoro could feel justified making fun of anyone else's stupidity, least of all the stupid love cook, who was the general recipient of Zoro's carefully metered scoffing.

But that was why Sanji was a stupid love cook, and not just a plain old love cook. Not that one was really any better than the other.

Zoro pondered for a moment, centering his thoughts back on himself. He could admit (in his head) that he was crap with directions, but there was no other reason he could think of beyond his general silence why anyone might think of him as an idiot. He did sleep rather a lot, but what did anyone have against sleeping? And he liked his liquor, but it wasn't like he drank himself into oblivion. I mean, give him some credit; alcoholism and swords just weren't a good mix.

Ah, wait. The swordsman closed his eyes. I guess I'm supposed to be too stupid to realize that quandary. Clearly I just like to live dangerously.

His brain paused a moment upon realizing that yes, actually, he did like to live quite dangerously. But this had never been an alcohol-induced decision, and thus was more a question of sanity than smarts. And while the swordsman was quite certain about his intellectual capabilities, he didn't really think he could properly judge whether he was crazy or not. But they were sailing the Grand Line. Who wasn't crazy around these parts?

Zoro began gnawing on his lip again. He supposed that the whole 'musclebound hunk' image carried some baggage as well. Stupidity baggage, which would, of course, apply to him because he was most definitely musclebound. And a hunk. But again, he had made a personal choice to get stronger, so why should he feel bad if people chose that reason to think him unintelligent?

Beginning to feel a bit of burn in his arms, Zoro glanced down at his magnificent muscles, feeling a welling of pride. Let people call him an idiot; his high-quality musculature was undeniable, gloriously beefy if you will. And that was more than the supposedly superior cook had to offer. A figuratively kickin' body and actual intelligence? Zoro was two for two.

Obviously it would have been better if Sanji actually realized any of this, but it wasn't his fault. He just wasn't quite as gifted as Zoro. And that was just something that both of them were going to have to live with.