Hey! Guess what's back after year and a half of a pause!? It's my ZoSan fanfic! And it's a double length chapter!

enjoy the sweet comeback, I'm continuing to write this thing!

Weak, slow, barely noticeable wind rustled the leaves in the very top of the trees in the forest, making those golden pieces dance to its tune, creating a very weak calming sound. Colors of gold and bronze mixed in together like on the artist's palette, creating then a real masterpiece, a real piece of art made by nature itself where the canvas was earth and the final painting the autumn itself.

Middle of the tenth month was where all the magic happened – painting-like rich sceneries, still warm weather with some slight changes in wind and cloud positions and rare and short rains. Fall season animals were still active and happy, enjoying a sunny day, and people were like that too – street markets were full of products – fresh fish and other edible sea animals, season fruits, vegetables and plants but also freshly baked bread and old traditional sake – and full of people from those who yelled to sell their things on their small shops to customers who would bargain with seller for the smallest price. Numbers couldn't fall down much and prices were held decent due to respect to those who work the hardest – villagers. Those people worked the whole year long, except when the weather and harsh nature would prevent them to, to bring only the best to others – their families and people outside the village. It was autumn – season of fresh products, healthy delicious food and beautiful golden nature. It was a season where everyone worked their hardest, both people and animals; everyone was preparing themselves for the upcoming winter, stacking food supplies and wood to keep them warm in those freezing days. And even though the nature was changing, no one noticed its dying and just enjoyed the color change around them and warmth that the sun provided.

Although the forest was busy with small animals preparing for the winter, it was still peaceful and lovely, enjoyable and warm. And a certain shrine in the middle of golden forest, a building that seemed rundown and dead to the outsiders, was also holding that warm and pleasant atmosphere and looked brand new on the inside and to those who were living within its walls. Imaginable bells rang once again, the sound filling every bit of space inside the old shrine. Two young men sat by the small table, sitting on the warm tatami floor across each other. They were having a classic, healthy yet very delicious lunch. On the table were many different specialties – soups and stews from wild herbs that help wounds heal and body strengthen, fish in different ways and salads from local vegetables. They are in silence and the only sound that would disturb that peace were the sounds of their chewing which both tried to minimize as much as possible. Occasionally, chime would ring and its sound resulted in two different reactions of two different men, one was used to it; the chimes were normal to him as they were part of his environment, his life. The other man frowned and stopped chewing every time the bells would ring. Fuurin was nowhere around so every time the sound filled his ears he would look at the other man but didn't say a thing, they just continued chewing on the rice and drinking the soup.

He often didn't hear the chimes because he was taken aback by the marvelous flavors of the food. Young swordsman never tasted miso soup as delicious as this one. He looked again at the blonde man on the other side of the table and questioned himself if he really made all that food in front of them. He never ate such well cooked rice as the one in the bowl in his hand and he certainly never had that much fish prepared with such care and sauces as the ones that were plated before him. During his years in the dojo, he ate a decent bowl of rice and lukewarm, sometimes cold, poor soup with few vegetable pieces in it. And they were very lucky if there was fish in one piece on the plate because they, young students who were learning sword techniques, would always have a small piece of fish, just so they can have some meat to go with overcooked rice and cold soup. Times are poor so he was grateful to his dojo sensei that would spend all of the money he had to take care of his students. But because of that poverty which made sensei barely feed his students and the parents who didn't have enough to pay for lessons, dojo was getting emptier by the day. It was getting lonelier until there were no students left except for one young boy. He didn't have anywhere to go to, he was an orphan from the start and he could only pay for tuitions by doing housework and cleaning the dojo and all the equipment. He never gave up like the rest; he wanted to learn as much as he could from a great man who once served in the top of country's officials. The boy never skipped practice; he polished every bit of wood on the floor and took care of every single bokken in the large stack. Even after all the other kids quit, boy continued practicing, sometimes by his own until the late hours. During the day he would run around the village, trying to convince those who quit to come back to the dojo but neither kids nor their parents liked that. Young boy spent days, weeks and months pursuing his plan but he just couldn't reach the door of success – he was rejected every single time and in the last few weeks people would yell at him, shut the door loudly at his face or didn't answer at all. But the boy didn't give up – after a long day of running around from house to house he came back to the dojo, had a poor meal, and went straight to the practice room to make it up for all the time he lost by not training. That night he decided to try harder so he picked the old bokken sword which teacher told them it was a heavier and longer one, made of different type of wood, created for advanced levels in swordsmanship training. Swinging the sword was hard, the boy barely held it in his small sweaty hands. It took him some time to get used to it and that hurt his hands but he didn't stop perfecting new skills, determined to get stronger, better swordsman and prove to others that the dojo isn't lost. He didn't stop swinging the heavy sword, no matter how much sweat build on his forehead and all over his body.

"That's enough, Zoro…" the boy heard a voice behind him and stopped cutting the air with a heavy sword. He let the kisaki, the tip of the sword, fall and hit the wooden floor, creating a sound of wood clashing together. Sensei was sitting at the opening of the room in a traditional seiza stance with his back always straight. Discipline and strength were radiating from him yet he looked so relaxed and patient with a smile on his face, wearing his old round glasses, dark gray kimono and his dark hair always tightly gathered in a semi long ponytail. He still smiled at the tired boy.

"Sensei…"

"You work hard as always," kneeling man smiled more.

"Yes…" the young one dropped his gaze and made sweat drops fall from his sad face, "It's because I want to learn, I want this place to be full again. I won't give up until everyone's…"

"Zoro," a sudden raise of sensei's voice stopped the boy and made him look at the man again, "You can't change people that easily… I appreciate everything you've done but it's time for you to stop. It's over," his smile faded.

"No!" more than being scared to be left alone and live on the streets, Zoro was scared of dojo closing and him never getting the opportunity to train and learn from the man he respected so much. If that happens, sensei would have to sell it all and move with his only daughter somewhere else, somewhere cheap and poor. And with the current situation, they couldn't take Zoro with them; they barely had food for themselves.

"I will go to the neighboring village tomorrow and—"

"Zoro, you're still a boy, it's dangerous to go alone anywhere outside of this village. Government created more tight laws and you'll be captured once you step out. Who knows where they might take you…"

Zoro didn't say a thing. A lot of possibilities and ideas came to his mind that he had a hard time sorting them out. But he knew one for sure.

"It's all their fault…" boy hissed, gritting his teeth, "It's all those bastards' doing – if they weren't setting up these stupid laws and taking money from poor…"

"It's a complicated world we live in, Zoro…" sensei smiled again.

"And I hate it! We don't have what to eat, kids who want to learn the way of the sword can't because their parents can't pay for tuitions, people beg and do any kind of job for a bit of bread or few coins. I hate it!" Zoro yelled, gripping the handle of the sword, "Sensei, we have to gather people or that same rotten government will take the dojo and throw us on the streets. I devoted my life to the sword and not to selling potatoes or plucking rice," sensei chuckled but the boy didn't; his eyes reflected determination and seriousness as he was firmly standing behind his words.

Teacher stood up and silently, like a butterfly, came to Zoro. The man patted the boy on the head, keeping his warm smile on. The little one could feel that warmth and his teacher's feelings; man's touch was warm and reassuring.

"Sometimes a young boy can be wiser than an old man," sensei paused and looked up from Zoro's face, out of the window and into the night brighten by the full moon. The smile disappeared from his face, "We have to protect this dojo… and that thing."

At first, young boy didn't know what was his sensei referring to but he found out just few days after their talk in the dark dojo room, on the deep and cold thunderstorm night.

"What are you staring at? It's not poisoned," a voice woke the young man out of his thoughts. Before his eyes were small pieces of vegetables, swimming around in a wooden bowl he held. Soup was getting cold.

"Food's getting cold. And I don't care if it's not your liking or if you say you're not hungry – you are going to eat it all," blonde man from across the table commanded, frowning and glaring at the other. The other man looked back at the food in front of him and sighed.

"Yeah yeah…" he said and took a bit of deliciously marinated fish.

"Make a better response, you shit!" blonde raged, hitting on top of the table with his fists, but the green-haired man only ate in silence. Silence mixed with chewing made a clear answer to the blonde that the other man wasn't going to continue bickering so he also calmed down by sighing.

Yokai sat back on the warm floor, joining legs together all time being careful not to wrinkle his orange and white multilayered kimono with dark red maple leaves scattered on the bottom orange part of the clothing. Leaves looked like they were blown away from the forest outside and right onto the cotton and warm fabric. Creature's tail calmed and was resting next to his left leg, its tip wiggling often instinctively. His ears were straight up, soft and big, shining with soft yellow fur just like on the tail. This fox spirit in a human form was in its relaxed state, enjoying the delicious food.

But the spiritual being had something on his mind. He opened his eyes again and looked at the calm wounded swordsman who was peacefully eating on the other side of the table. Zoro's body was still in bandages – his whole chest was covered, all the way to his upper arms and shoulders. He didn't wear the upper part of his kimono; it was lying on the floor, next to his crossed legs, like a lifeless creature. He tried wearing the kimono properly that morning but would take it off because it was too hot under it or was uncomfortable and bothered him. He would wear it properly whenever a cold breeze comes but take it off right after the itching starts to annoy him.

Yokai watched the man, his every move and his wounded body, he wondered if he treated the man correctly and if the natural balms and painkillers helped and reduced the pain in his chest and the aching of the wound. After all, he lived alone for a very long time and didn't get hurt himself; even if he wanted to, he couldn't get hurt. Remembering the faithful night he saw the swordsman on a verge of death made the fox yokai wiggle his tail and put it on the other side, next to his right leg. Sanji clearly noticed worry on other man's face and felt strong anxiety from across the table but he couldn't ask; he was sure Zoro wouldn't answer him. Another sigh escaped kitsune's mouth and he continued eating the food he spent a great amount of time preparing. He always prepared a decent meal for himself or sometimes didn't eat at all but now, no matter how hard he didn't want to admit it, Sanji had to make sure that the lunch was rich and pleasant. It has been a very long time since he ate with someone. Chimes rang again.

…

"Gochisousama…" Zoro clapped, softly joining his hands together to thank for the most wonderful meal he had in his life. His strong pride didn't allow him to do more than that. He wanted to talk about the food clashing and creating real fireworks of flavors in his mouth, but he only bowed his head to the now empty plates on the small wooden table.

Sanji bowed in the same manner and looked at his guest, excepting but at the same time not excepting compliments. He wanted to see a reaction from that stoned face but there wasn't one.

"Did you enjoy your lunch?" yokai asked, not averting his eyes from the bandaged man. He expected a gaze in return and got it.

"Yes, it was very tasty, thank you," Zoro replied, his tone dull and sentence monotone. And that attitude annoyed the other man but he only clenched his fists on his lap and didn't say a word at first. Small silent glaring was stopped by the blonde.

"Glad to hear that…" Sanji closed his eyes and nodded, calming down. Few moments of silence passed and it looked like time stopped. Sanji was perfectly still, his mind free just like his body; he seemed like he was meditating.

Zoro's calm stopped when he saw four little blue fireballs floating around the man across of him. He still wasn't used to it, after all. All this supernatural things were still strange to the swordsman. Sanji opened his eyes and as soon as he did that, little fireballs popped all in the same time creating four clouds of smoke. From those four clouds appeared four little creatures.

"M-mini…?" Zoro muttered to himself, watching the little ones.

What appeared beside Sanji were four little replicas of him. Little children with same hair, same fox ears and tails were each dressed in dark red kimono with greed obi sash. As they waited beside their master, waiting for orders, each adjusted ears, tail, hair or clothes but as soon as they noticed Zoro, they all bowed to him.

"You can clean up now and bring us the after meal tea," older yokai instructed and the little ones nodded. They quickly pulled the wooden trays behind their backs together the plates from the lunch. Zoro watched all of that, clearly amazed. Sanji noticed that and only smiled, letting the swordsman enjoy the little show, clearly enjoying Zoro's confused face. Like he knew what was on green-haired man's mind, Sanji smiled more and answered: "I created them myself," that made Zoro look at the blonde man, meeting his warm gaze, "It can get really lonely here and since I obtained these powers in order to guard this place I used some of it, modified a little and created these little things." Sanji continued smiling and held a little guy who almost fell with tray full of dishes. The small one nodded to thank him in embarrassment, with a small cute blush on his cheeks. He rushed out of the room, leaving the two men alone.

"Why are you here? What are you doing at a random shrine, wasting your time and powers by making it look new on the inside?" Zoro asked without hesitation, seriousness shining in his eyes, not averting his gaze from the kitsune. That wiped a smile away from blonde's face. Sanji looked down at the table like he was analyzing the type of wood it was made of. He them smiled to himself and looked at the swordsman again, keeping the smile.

"This is my home. I have nowhere else to go. I was sent here and I'll stay…"

"Until…" Zoro aimed for the full story but Sanji only smiled more and slightly tilted his head.

"Forever," he said and silence came up again. Sanji's smiled was gone once his eyes met Zoro's black sharp ones. They stared at each other in silence with the sound of rustling leaves mixing with it. Silence lasted until a little fox came in with tea, carrying it above its head. "And what about you? What were you doing around the forest in the middle of a storm, at the dead of night?"

"Running away."

"From whom?"

"People who chased me."

"That's obvious. I'm asking who was it that pursued you?"

Silence. Little helper plated the tea in front of each man, bowed and lest the room, leaving them once again in silent staring. It was Zoro this time that broke the tension by sighing. He took his clay tea cup with hot green and brought it to his lips. He stopped and looked at the calm fox.

"It doesn't matter," Zoro answered and took a sip of calming liquid.

"No, it does. You're currently in my house, I was the one who treated you all this time, nursing you back to health. You had a high fever for days. If it wasn't for me—"

"Yeah, I get it – thank you! You saved me, how noble! But that's it! After this tea, I'm leaving and I won't be a bother to you anymore so you can have this shit place all by yourself!" Zoro slammed the cup on the table but soon drank more.

"You're still not ready. If that wound opens, you'll die. The medicine I treated you with is not magical and it takes time for it to work, especially on a serious injury like yours. And besides, the medicine is made by me, you can't find it anywhere else. You can't leave until you're healthy!"

"That's nice, thanks for worrying, but I already decided. I'll be leaving now, thanks for the tea and all you've done," Zoro bowed slightly and stood up. His cup was already empty while Sanji's was untouched. Yokai watched him getting up and got annoyed by that man's stubbornness.

"Where are you going? You won't get far with your current condition!" Sanji exclaimed but Zoro ignored, but on his kimono and turned to exit the room. He ignored the pain in his left shoulder while putting his arm in the sleeve, "Is it because of that sword?" Sanji asked and Zoro stopped in his place. As he didn't answer, Sanji continued, "I saw your reaction when you woke up searching for it. It's something important to you, right?" again, no answer "I guess that's why—"

"Shut up! It's none of your business," Zoro yelled and stormed out of the room, leaving Sanji with his still steaming hot tea.

"Shitty bastard…"

…

He didn't have any luggage with him except his clothes and the white katana. Zoro lost the straw hat he had on that cold night: he threw it at a guard who chased him and that cut the same man but the others were close behind. He ran through the forest, mud and rain with his kimono drenched and cup open on his chest. Zoro looked at the ripped, now clean cloth and sighed.

"You can keep the kimono," came the voice behind Zoro, just when he was taking off the upper part of the borrowed clothing. He turned and saw Sanji, leaned on the shoji of the room. He wore the same maple kimono but it looked more real and beautiful once he was standing. Sanji smoke his golden pipe, clearly enjoying the smoke. He let out a puff and looked at Zoro. Their eyes met for the fifth time that day. "Are you really going like that?"

"What do you mean? I'm fine," Zoro answered, putting the kimono back on.

"No matter how you look at it, you are not fine. You're forgetting that I'm a supernatural being and that I can see, feel and sense your energy. Right now, I can see that you're in pain but you're keeping that straight face to mask it up. Your wound is still fresh despite the healing balms. You need rest so stop being—"

"I said that I'm fine so shut up!" in contrast of Sanji's calm tone came Zoro's yelling, making the birds in trees fly away.

Yokai had it enough – his eye sharpened, got the unusual bright yellow color and the pupil shrank so it looked like a straight line. With inhuman speed, he jumped from the place he was standing and straight on Zoro, pushing him down on the floor. It all happened in a split second so the swordsman didn't have the time to dodge the attack. He hit the floor with his back so hard that some air was pushed out of his lungs. Sanji was on top of him, leaning closer to Zoro's face, pushing him down more. His strength was really not normal – it hurt Zoro, making him hiss in pain.

"Don't shout. You're scaring the birds…" cold yellow eyes stared at Zoro's black one, sending fear. His words were cold like his stare and Zoro no longer thought about the fox as a kind and gentle magical being – he was a monster and the swordsman couldn't escape him! Monster was pinning him down, grinning maniacally, pushing him claws slowly into Zoro's shoulders. Without a hesitation, sharp claws dug deeper into the flesh, making Zoro wince in pain but didn't let out his voice.

"You're fine, eh? Your face doesn't say so but… let's see. Let's put your brave words to a test…" Sanji grinned more pushing his claws deeper, watching Zoro's face wrinkle in pain and agony.

"And if I do this?" Sanji let out one of his hands of his shoulder and trailed across Zoro's chest with one finger. His touch was not light - yokai used his claw to cut the bandages, scratching over the stitches. Thin bandages got stained red fast.

"What a beautiful color…" Sanji licked his lips, watching the thin white cloth getting soaked red by swordsman's blood. He pulled out other claws out of Zoro's shoulder and licked them off, "Your blood is sour, just like your attitude. You need to know how to behave…" Sanji's grin grew wider and he pushed Zoro's wound more. The swordsman couldn't take it anymore; he finally screamed, letting out more blood to stain the bandages.

"You… bastard…" Zoro cursed, pearls of sweat building on him forehead, his vision getting blurry, his whole body in extreme pain.

"Did you have enough?" Sanji didn't wait for the answer and leaned close to Zoro's face, "Do you still want to play a brave samurai?" his demonic smile faded and his grabbed Zoro's face, making him cough some blood, "Listen to me you shit," Sanji tightened the grip on Zoro's cheeks, glaring at him with that sharp yellow eye, "You're under my roof and you'll play by my rules. If I say that you'll stay, you will crawl back in your bed and shut up, no complaining, no nothing. Understand?" he let go of Zoro's face but the man didn't answer anything – Zoro only shivered in pain.

Sanji stood up from him and returned to his usual, calm self, relaxing with a sigh. He watched the pained man on the floor and sighed again. "You will now sleep and have a proper rest. Make sure you wake up tomorrow, though," Sanji said, putting hands in the sleeves of his kimono.

Zoro's vision was getting blurrier by the minute. The fever was obviously taking over and the wound hurt more. He panted but with every weak breath, his lungs, ribs and skin over them hurt badly. Four mini yokai came running in the room and passing Sanji. They quickly put Zoro's futon on the floor and when done, picked up the ill man and carried him to the sheets. He was already asleep when his head touched the pillow.

"Prepare hot water, medicine and the aid kit," Sanji commanded and little ones rushed out of the room. He still stood in place, watching the stubborn wounded man, with arms crossed over his chest. Sanji felt a spark and looked to the side – on his left, leaned on the wall stood a beautiful white katana. Sanji remembered how Zoro tightly held it when he first arrived at the shrine, all bloody and on half dead. He remembered how the swordsman yelled and panicked when he first woke up, searching for his treasured belonging. And lastly, he remembered Zoro's face today when he mentioned the katana.

"What exactly is happening here? Why is this sword so precious to you?" Sanji asked aloud but unconscious Zoro couldn't give him any answers. Feverish man was only lying in the sheets, shivering in pain, sweating. A light frown came to kitsune's face, "You're a beast but not untamable," he muttered and his eyelids lowered, "You're a monster… but not like me."

x To be continued x