A/N a bit of background for you. Like it? Please let me know.
Zoro wandered aimlessly down the damp cobbled streets of the small Yorkshire town he had travelled to in order to find Miss Sharley. His mind consumed with not only what he had just heard but also the fact that he now had virtually no money what so ever and that he apparently was looking more like a tramp than a gentleman.
Zoro had so far found it hard to find honest work in his travels; he was a foreigner in the eyes of most, which some were unsure of. His parents had travelled to Scotland from Japan when he was still a baby to work in the Edinburgh University; to lecture and teach the craftsmanship behind Japanese art and furnishings, which had become and still is highly popular in the western world.
His parents did extremely well and became highly respected amongst the scholars and local community. His father had formally been a simple carpenter in his homelands, his mother a ceramics maker. Zoro had a very happy childhood; his family more privileged then what could be said for some of the locals. He would get dragged to lavish parties and sometimes balls and be paraded around the rooms as an object of interest. He was after all an Asian boy with a Scottish accent.
His parents were able to afford a good education for him and he had made friends, or so he thought at the time. The boys school near Edinburgh's Princes Street was very well respected and Zoro learnt here more than anywhere; how a respectable man should behave. His parents had no real idea of behaviour taboos because of the vastly different cultures between Japan and Britain. It was only later in life that Zoro really understood that they actually really struggled to adapt to life in Britain but the majority of people at least found them to be extremely polite and a pleasure to be in the company of.
Just after Zoro's ninth birthday he was introduced to Dracule Mihawk, he was a Spaniard that his parents had become fond of at the university. He taught languages there but became acquainted with his parents over a certain sword he had in his possession that was of Japanese decent. Zoro remembers he disliked his master at first. Mihawk would look upon him like a horrible insect; he was very distant as well and sometimes even left a room if Zoro happened to walk into it.
Zoro would admit he held some interest though, Mihawk dressed in a very loud and flamboyant manner compared with British fashions of dark fabrics. He would always carry a knife or sword on his person and would tell interesting tales of foreign destinations. He became a fairly regular visitor to their household until Zoro turned twelve.
It was a particularly bitter January afternoon when Zoro was dragged from his history lessons by a police constable. An agonising twenty-eight hour wait he had in the university hospital eventually to see both his parents dead from several gunshot wounds to the chest. The apparent work of a "crazed passer-by" in the high street when they had both gone to lunch that day.
When his parents died that day something definitely died inside of Zoro and he will admit became much more withdrawn from the world. He noticed how people looked at him differently. His friends at school kept a wary distance, whispering about his change in circumstances and his teachers became much more stern and strict. His safety bubble was burst and the reality of people's cruelty slowly crept in, he learnt how to not care about others like they didn't care for him.
Unexpectedly when Zoro was forced to leave the only home he knew due to having no way of paying the rent, it was Mihawk who came and offered him a place to grow. He knew none of his possible other relatives in Japan and knew only a little of the language and culture from his mothers lessons. What money his parents had, became his only money for his life until he found employment.
Mihawk was still a distant man; he made Zoro grow quickly from a boy to a man. He had refused to take pity on him and insisted he continued to be educated as the man his parents wished of. Mihawk did teach him one thing though and that was his love of swordsmanship. The Japanese sword Mihawk showed to his parents all those years ago eventually became Zoro's first blade. A beautifully crafted white katana named Wadō Ichimonji. The tale behind it was a sad one; crafted from a loving father to his daughter for protection. The woman took her own life with it when she felt she failed to protect her village from bandits who tore the village to rubble.
On their many lonely evenings together Mihawk would tell his tales of his travels. He got the Japanese sword as a gift from a training excursion to a famous dojo in Yamaguchi. The master had known the blacksmith of the sword and had taught his daughter swordsmanship. She had killed forty-seven bandits before she had realised she was the last alive of all the people she loved.
Zoro became much more interested in his families homeland, he and Mihawk would practice most evenings the art of Kaishin Ryu or "open spirit" swordsmanship in the basement of Mihawk's townhouse, much to the displeasure of the maids and kitchen staff. His own personal learning of different kata or "forms" led to a development of his own style of fighting called Santoryu. It allowed the use of one, two and even three effective katana fighting techniques. He held one for each hand and one was placed in his mouth, a style that can both be defensive and offensive from any angle.
When Zoro neared the end of his education he spent the majority of what money he had left on shipping two other swords across from Japan after some lengthy negotiations with a collector of rare blades in Tokyo, another of Mihawk's many varied contacts. This prompted the start of Mihawk's preparation for him to go on his own journey. To find his place in the world and follow his growing dream of becoming the worlds best swordsman.
It had taken almost six months for the swords to arrive to Mihawk's tidy townhouse. Zoro looks back on the wait as somewhat a torture. He often had to use fencing blades to practice with beforehand but a katana's weight and purpose was so completely different, he craved the real things. Sandai Kitetsu and Shusui along with Wadō Ichimonji are by far his most precious possessions today. He has a few mementos from his parents, a lock of his mother's hair and a comb made by his father but otherwise he has nothing left anymore.
Zoro had left Edinburgh just over six weeks ago with a message from Mihawk to find the place in a tatty old photo and visit Miss Sharley in the town of Ripon, North Yorkshire for his dreams to become reality. Mihawk had actually offered a smile and an almost fatherly hug when he left. Mihawk was not an affectionate man and although Zoro came to understand that Mihawk was in fact very fond of him, Mihawk was not the kind of man to show it physically or indeed emotionally.
Realising that his musings had set him on a path round the streets of no real destination Zoro eventually halted to take in his surroundings. He was away from the hustle and bustle of the markets and shops and instead in a more rural area of terraced houses and a farm. Few people were to be seen; more then likely at work and from the looks of his surroundings beyond this street just appeared to be rolls of fields. Sighing Zoro attempted to backtrack to the town centre where he needed to find some work and if possible somewhere to wash.
After a frustrating couple of hours that had brought him back to the same street with farm twice he finally recognised the spires of Ripon Cathedral and knew he was once again heading towards the centre. It was turning into early evening now and less people were mingling in the streets. He didn't miss the occasional stare from someone as he passed by; his Asian heritage clearly something unusual in the small market town, but everyone so far had been very accommodating. The locals here seeming much friendlier then what he was used to although the local accent could be hard to decipher at times.
Zoro found himself in North Street, a street of small town houses and several pubs and inns. He figured he would try his luck on finding a room he could work for. The closest to him was "The Bay Horse" a smart looking stone house with a few tidy plants decorating the outside. In Zoro walked, the familiar smell of ale and smoke hitting his nostrils as soon as he was through the entrance. A comforting crackling fire in the corner and glow of orange lamps set him at ease only to realise that he was in fact quite exhausted.
Behind the bar in the centre of the back wall sat a large man with a large gut merrily talking away to an older gentleman customer who took swigs of ale between guffaws of laughter. Zoro took his chance to interrupt them when the older man proceeded to drink the dregs of his glass. "Excuse me sir" Zoro announced to the bar man who looked at him in surprise before asking how he could help him. "I was wondering if you could help me find a room to stay in and work to earn my keep?" Zoro had lost much of his Scottish accent with his teachings on how to become a gentleman but people who did not know him were always surprised to hear him so well spoken for someone so foreign looking. The two gentlemen before him were clearly both equally surprised if the quiet pause was anything to go by.
"Well sir" the bar man eventually replied in a fairly thick local accent "a'm 'fraid I don't have owt here bu' ya could try t' Brewer's Arms over on Bondgate Green" he continued pointing left with his left arm to give a kind of vague direction. "I know t' owner is lookin' fer staff, he 'as some rooms too, which he migh' let ya use?" Zoro thanked the man who gave him a friendly smile and wave before he served another ale to the older gentleman at the bar.
After another fruitless hour of walking in circles around the market square Zoro found himself in front of The Brewer's Arms purely by accident after taking what he thought was a shortcut through some houses to get back to the centre point. It looked like a large townhouse smuggled between houses of an older time period. Two large bay windows at the front sat next a wide entrance with a small sign in brass displaying the fact that this was the Brewer's Arms of Bondgate.
Peering into the windows, the pub had a fairly smart appearance and appeared to be rather busy considering it was still early evening. Walking into the warmth, which sent a pleasant shiver up his spine, Zoro weaved his way through a few tables to get to a large bar in the left corner of the large open room. It was a woman, probably no older than him with a mass of dark curly hair, who approached after other customers had been served. Although he was a little taken aback when she had opened the conversation with "are ya all righ' love?" After his momentary surprise that a stranger would speak to him so informally he quickly spoke of his reasons for coming.
Soon Zoro was getting introduced to the owner called Rod Jinbe, a man of short stature yet huge girth and interesting facial hair. Mr. Jinbe listened intently to his plea with a serious expression before finally nodding and offering Zoro a room and a bath in return for him cleaning tables and collecting glasses and perhaps serving some food. Grateful for the offer Zoro agreed immediately and was shocked once again when the woman from earlier forwardly shook his hand and introduced herself as Adele. When Mr. Jinbe merely chuckled and returned to the kitchen, Zoro began to have a positive feeling that he had found a good place to start his real journey from.