In a small dojo of Edo, Japan, a lone swordsman took down a couple dummies in one strike. Roronoa Zoro sheathed his sword and wiped a droplet of sweat from his forehead.
Movement caught the corner of his eye. In the shadow of the paper walls, was a ballerina. She danced gracefully and spun like a top, but with more beauty and elegancy. Zoro furrowed his brow in confusion and went and pulled the screen back. Everything disappeared except for himself and the ballerina. It was replaced by a grand hall with a crystal chandelier, his kimono was now a tuxedo with a bow tie, his hair sleeked back and his shoes as shiny as his swords. The ballerina with her black hair tied back in a tight bun, a small tiara sitting atop her beautiful head as the white tutu and leotard hugged her curves. She spun over to me and rested her hand on Zoro's shoulder and spun him around. Rhythm just smiled and laughed, pulling him into a dip and spinning him off into the curtains. He didn't come out. She stopped dancing and tilted her head, confused at why he wasn't coming back out. She went over and pulled the curtains aside.
A mighty gust of dry desert wind pulled her and her Victorian dress and matching hat, threatening to topple her. Zoro in his cowboy hat and boots, spurs and all with the guns at his hips and leather gloves, stood frazzled beside Rhythm. Something strong shook the ground, causing them both to stumble. They looked toward the source to see a stampede of cows and horses coming straight towards them. Her eyes widen. Zoro tugged at a string in the ground to find a trapdoor. He gestured for her to follow him. She took his outstretched hand and they both tumbled down the hole just as the stampede would have trampled them.
They rolled and crouched, lasers firing past them as aliens above them fired down at them. They took cover behind a broken spaceship, laser guns at hand. Rhythms tight dress with neon light finishing matched Zoro's own suit. They were to close though, nose to nose, really. They looked away and blushed. A laser almost hit them, causing them to run from their hiding place and into an abandoned alien ship.
Zoro tripped and fell, bringing Rhythm down on top of him. She fell over, the wooden frame of the skirt she wore and the tight bodice she wore made it hard to move, the sleeves uncomfortable and the feather hat with the net tilted at an angle over her styled hair just made it hard to see. She struggled to her feet, wooden shoes clicking and smirked at Zoro on the ground in his suit with tails. She mockingly bowed and offered him her hand, as though he was the female in the dance. He frowned and took her gloved hand. They waltzed with the rest of the party-goers, going back to back, hand to hand, and step by step. They smiled, truly this time at each other. They spun into one of the draperies, only to find themselves in a war zone.
Decked out in a military uniform, guns loaded and explosions reverberating through the air, they rolled and took cover once again in a dug out. Zoro wiped his dirty forehead under his helmet, the gun in his lax grip. Rhythm signaled him, ready to start firing at the enemy. Zoro nodded and they both took action. They read each other's movements with perfect synchronization, making them a deadly team. They took down the enemy together with the help of their faceless allies. Taking cover once more, Rhythm found a delicate red flower in the black and white battlefield. She blinked a couple times then smiled. She picked the flower, just for Zoro. She offered it to him, but he just shook his head, Frowning, she shoved it into his face, forcing him to take it with the roll of his eyes. An explosion happened, too close to them. They flew together and landed smack in a large room, with dark grey and light grey striped walls, tall windows, a large crystal chandelier, and a set of large mahogany doors.
Rhythm shook her head, trying to clear her mind. The loose bun on her head sent a few wisps of hair down onto her bare shoulders, where the thin straps of a simple white dress rested; her bare feet against the cold carpeted floor. Zoro tucked the flower into the breast pocket of his white button up shirt and made his way to the doors, Rhythm at his heels. He threw open the doors and fell into blackness. Rhythm tried to grab him, to stop him from falling but missed, She fell to her knees with her hand stretched out, hoping to grab his hand as he fell away from her. He didn't want to leave her. He didn't ever want to leave her.
He landed hard right back on the wooden floor of his dojo, back in his kimono and his katanas at his side. He sat up and looked around confused, trying to take in the normality again. He stood up and dusted his kimono off and dropped his head, his eyes full of sadness as the girl he was with was no longer there. He held up the delicate red flower she picked for him, proving that it wasn't a dream. Zoro tucked it into his kimono, shoulders drooped and eyes downcast. He would never feel the same way again as he did with that girl, all those adventures and that beautiful smile that can light up an entire room.
Graceful arms wrapped around his neck and spun him around, confused, he stumbled and looked to see how it was. It was Rhythm; she smiled that big goofy smile of hers, her black hair held up with some decorative chopsticks and her body encased in the folds of a floral patterned kimono. Zoro smiled, too happy for words as he pulled her towards him for a kiss. She opened her cherry blossom painted fan in front of their faces so no one could see as their lips met and were off in their own little world of ballerinas, cowboys, aliens, ballroom dancing, war and love.