So like I said last chapter, this is an alternative ending. I actually wrote this first and planned on the ending to be mushy mushy bonding but it turned out too mushy and I felt like it wasn't going with the rest of the story. I thought I should put it up because what the hell, I've already wrote it.

"Write with your right then. Prove it to me, marimo."

The first mate raised an eyebrow and scowled. He switched the brush to his right, rolling up the sleeve of his coat up. "Man, what a pain."

Sanji really couldn't believe what Zoro was demonstrating because one, it was just so simple! Of course the answer was that! It was possible after all and everyone's got a talent for different things. He had just been assuming things like the green haired being too much of an idiot.

He spent a week worrying about this! Stupid marimo.

"So what's the story?" he finally asked, leaning against the wall and lighting up a cigarette. "Were you originally right handed or left handed? Decided one hand wasn't enough so you decided two hand might work?"

Pretty soon, he might even be writing with his mouth.

Zoro sighed and turned. Looks like he wouldn't be getting rid of the cook soon. He put down his brush carefully.

"Actually, I was…," he glanced down at his hands. "…left handed." The man pursed his lips.

Sanji raised a curled brow. Did he really have to think that through?

"Yeah. I wrote with my left before. But then, uh… I think I broke my hand… lifting rocks? Or maybe it was the sliding door? That thing was always a pain. Or maybe I broke it punching trees that time Sensei banned me from punching the straw figures…."

What the fuck? Actually, that sounded like a typical Straw Hat's childhood.

Sanji waited patiently.

"Oh yeah," Zoro stretched and leaned back in his chair. He finally met the blond's eye. "I remember now. The first time I started learning how to write with my other left was after I broke my hand lifting a huge rock. I couldn't control the weight very well and my hand got squished under it. Stubbed my toe too."

The green haired grinned like it was something to be proud of.

"So, basically, you crushed your hand under a rock because you were an idiot obsessed with lifting weights," Sanji summarized.

The swordsman scowled. It sounded pretty bad and idiotic when the cook phrased it like that.

"Well, my hand healed, I went back to writing with my left. But then I sprained it punching a tree. The tree went down though," he grinned at the memory. That was his first time bringing a tree down. By then, Sensei had given up banning him from training a long time ago. "Then I came back and made the injury worse after the sliding door hit it. That was all Sensei's fault."

"So you were an idiot who already got into the habit of injuring yourself. Good to know," the blond blew smoke. He didn't even know why he was listening to this.

There was something satisfying about this. Maybe because the swordsman never really shared his stories?

"Like you weren't a third rate cook with a curling job gone wrong back then too," Zoro glowered.

Sanji ignored the jibe. "So you learned how to write with your right after being a stupid marimo?"

"I guess? Just kept up the habit. You never know when you might break your left hand and have to write with your other left. I think I've been writing with my… right often this month though."

"Oh? So you decided to get into the habit of alternating between hands every month or so?"

Goddamn curiosity. It was a good thing Zoro wasn't questioning him back. He wasn't really the type to care for the reasons.

"Not really?" the other man tilted his head, his earrings jingling. "I wrote with my… this side (right) at the island because, you know, they freaked out. But it's a pain to write with other hand (left) when I'm writing like this." He gestured to the paper.

Sanji glanced over, taking note of the quick but immaculate strokes of the overly complicated words. He could make out some words: 'I', 'Sensei', the names of the crew members and other simple words. There were some that looked out of place and the blond guessed that it was names of locations or maybe even the swords of Zoro's.

But the biggest observation was that ex-pirate hunter was writing backwards. Left to right. Vertically too!

What the actual fuck?

"Why the hell are you writing backwards?" the cook voiced his thoughts.

"It's the way you're supposed to write this! Vertically and from left to right. That's how Sensei taught it to me, anyway," the swordsman explained.

"Oh."

Some languages were like, he supposed. The blond understood why writing left handed was easier here. No ink smudges since the marimo was writing from left to right.

He leaned back, taking another drag of his cigarette. Might as well ask now since he'd already started.

"So what happened back at the island? I thought you wrote with your right?"

"Ah, yeah." The green haired scratched his head. "I did. But then I accidentally wrote with my left. Apparently, they regarded people who're both handed as the devil of the devils."

Both handed? Really?

Sanji slammed his hands on the table once again. "You just accidentally wrote with your left?! What's with that?! You got us kicked off that island and I didn't get all the supplies that we needed!"

"That's your own fault because you weren't fast enough, curlicue. Besides, Robin was the one who wanted me to translate an ancient scroll or something that she had. She told me to write it authentically so I wrote it the way it was supposed to," the swordsman defended himself.

"Translate? You translated something for Robin-chwan?"

"Yeah. It wasn't that hard. Basically the same thing as this," the marimo nodded to the letter.

"What is this anyway? How'd you learn this? Thought you just knew the common language like Luffy," Sanji asked, peering at the sheet of paper. It really was an elaborate language. He had no idea how a marimo, of all people, would learn this.

"Uh, it's the traditional version. Sensei taught it to me when I was being home-schooled. Said it was better or something. Told me to use it when writing to him so that I won't forget."

"You were home-schooled?"

"Yeah. Sensei gave up on getting me to school after a while," Zoro grinned again, picking up his brush. He twirled it in his left hand, dangerously close to the side of his face.

The man seemed to be thinking about what to write next as he read through his letter again.

"What? Couldn't find your way to it? Got lost to the fish market?" the cook taunted.

"That was one time!" the swordsman indignantly whirled around. The wet brush streaked against his face, leaving a black stroke on his closed left eye like an eyeliner job gone wrong.

The leaner man laughed. The other scowled.

"Shit. Forgot the brush was there."

"So you really got lost to the fish market?" Sanji asked, once he got control of himself. The idiot marimo even got hopelessly lost back then!

"The school moved, okay?! It kept on moving! I took a right turn and then a left as Sensei said, but the effing school wasn't there! And the fish market was always there! And then it moved later on because when I tried to go to there, there was a fucking forest! What the fuck was I supposed to do with a town that kept on moving buildings?!" Zoro burst out in anger.

More like he kept getting lost. Maybe next time they go to town, they should tell him to go to the meet up at the edge of the forest and wait for him at the sea. He ended up at the opposite of whatever they said anyway.

"Wow, you really were a directionless marimo."

"Shut your trap, cook."

Silence fell in the room. The swordsman continued on his letter.

"So you were homeschooled because you kept getting lost to school," Sanji mused.

"The school moved," the green haired insisted.

Another thought occurred to the cook. "Hey, why are you writing a letter to… uh, Sensei? Who's that anyway?"

Normally, Sanji wouldn't bother asking but this was Zoro they were talking about. He wasn't the type to write letters for sentimental reasons. Not to mention, they were at sea so they had no definite address for the Coo Mail to send to.

Why would he send a letter? (Unless it was some kind of spam mail to Mihawk…)

Zoro paused, opening his mouth and then closing it. He was obviously trying to decide whether to tell Sanji or not.

"Hey, if you don't want to tell me, that's fine. I'm not forcing – "

"It'll be the death anniversary of my friend soon," the swordsman quietly answered.

Oh.

"She died about 2 months from now. I'm just writing it now so that when we get to the next town, I can send it and it'll reach Shimotsuki village by the anniversary," the man continued with a wistful look in his eye.

"Shit, man. Look, I'm sorr –"

"Sensei's Koshiro-sensei. He taught me in his dojo," the green haired man seemed to shake himself out of it.

Right, Zoro doesn't need pity.

And Sanji already knew 'Sensei' was he's the guy who taught Zoro. He meant for the brute to elaborate, not just say 'Sensei's the teacher'. At least now the blond knew his name…

(The blond silently wondered what kind of guy he is. He's the one who taught Zoro after all. That painted a picture of a big burly man with piercings, a deep set scowl and probably way too many swords that one can possibly hold. But he was a traditional type. And that gave off a picture of those traditional robes, simple sandals and a love for something like flower arranging. So maybe a combination of the two, like the head of an Edo mafia?)

Sanji waited for the green haired to continue. The man was now painting a picture of his black sword with the brush. He was done talking.

Wait… painting?!

…

"So?" the blond prompted.

"So what?" the other distractedly replied, dipping the brush into the inkwell.

"Does he reply back? Your sensei, I mean."

Zoro shrugged, studying his finished painting. "Sometimes, I guess. I got a few letters back but not every time. Maybe they got lost in the mail or the birds couldn't find us."

"Oh." What was with this need to keep talking? It's not like the marimo's seemed really affected. "What did he say? What did you reply with?"

"Asked mostly about Wado, Kitetsu and Shusui. Told him I was doing fine, kept up my training. He asked if I've broke Wado yet or not."

The blond sighed. "Not that, you idiot. You know, about becoming a pirate, almost getting killed at about every island we've been to, following Luffy as a captain. That sort of stuff."

"Oh. He's fine about that. Told me to take care and gave me tips about taking better care of the katanas. Scolded me about losing Yubashiri." The man gave a quiet chuckle. "He also said something about the kids in the dojo wanting to learn Santoryu. Said I gave him a headache since he can't teach that after all."

Fucking hell. That had nothing to do with the crew at all! The guy's not listening, is he?

For all the elegant and elaborate characters that the moss head wrote, he was a real dumbass.

"So what's up with the picture? How'd you learn to paint like that?"

"Sensei would usually drag me in and force me to take a break from training. During that time, he'd teach me words, techniques, history, painting, how to make tea. Various stuff like that. I didn't go to school but I had an education," Zoro smiled faintly.

Sanji fumed. That… that look shouldn't even belong on him! It was the same look on Robin-chwan's face when she remembered something of the past.

…it just looked really weird on him, okay?

"But yeah. This is a painting of Shusui. He said he wanted to see it. Authentically."

"Why don't you take a picture instead then?" the blond asked, baffled. It'd be easier and the photo would show more details. Not to mention, the ink wouldn't run and ruin it, if the letter should ever go through rain.

"He wanted it authentically."

Oh.

The cook understood now. Some people were just like that. His sensei was definitely the traditional type. Zeff was like that sometimes. He'd prefer to whisk the old fashioned way despite it being an electrical one.

"Would you do a portrait of us?" Sanji asked suddenly.

Zoro tilted his head at the question, earrings jangling against each other.

"I mean, if we were to do one. Usopp can paint but I doubt he can do this sort of traditional painting – you know, black and white – and yours isn't half bad."

Seriously, what the fuck was he saying? He was getting carried away just because the shitty swordsman revealed a little about his past.

The other man seemed to mull on the question. "Maybe. If Luffy could stay still enough for a painting." The ex-pirate hunter inspected a brush. "I could paint you right now, though. I mean, if you want. It'll be just a quick one."

"Eh? Paint? Me?" The blond was surprised, because Zoro wasn't the type to really do arts. Well, more than necessary and even if he did, Sanji doubted he'd want to paint him.

"Yeah, just give a scrap piece of paper," the voice rumbled lazily. "There should be some over there."

The cook rummaged through the messy pile of clothes, paper and various tools that Usopp left around. His hand knocked an envelope to the ground.

He picked it up, intending to return it to its original position. Who'd write a letter now (beside Zoro, that is)? Maybe it was Usopp's?

The envelope is thick, obviously stuffed with an excessively long leter. He turned it over to recognize the complex characters.

"Ah, hey! You found it! I lost that thing yesterday," the green haired reached out to snatch the letter from the pale hands.

"Oh? That's yours?" Why would a marimo need to write an elongated letter? Who exactly? His teacher was out since he was currently finishing that up. "Who'd you write to?"

There was silence on the other end.

Shit.

He'd said the wrong thing, didn't he? He should've just kept his big fat mouth shut and use it to smoke instead.

"Kuina. The dead friend," Zoro finally said, after a long time.

Sanji didn't know what to say. Sorry?

"Sensei and I made a habit of writing to her and burning the letters together. I wrote about you in previous letters too. Told her you were a curly-brow, perverted cook and that she should never go near you."

Is it just him or is the other man avoiding his eyes?

"Bastard," the cook bit out. Like he had the right to forbid someone from going near someone else.

"Yeah, yeah. Just give me a scrap paper, ero-cook."

After finding one that looked like a scrap (didn't really matter though, the other side was stained with… jam? Oil? Both?), he handed it to the swordsman.

"Alright stay there for a minute," the man brushed his paintbrush against the inkwell.

After a beat of silence, Sanji started. "Should I do a pose or something?"

"No, you shouldn't. You'll end up looking like a retard, not that you aren't one already. After all, you're the Prince of Retardia," Zoro returned immediately, not looking up from his paper.

"Yeah, well, you're a fucking… marimo ball of muscle and moss who just laze around on the deck all day!" the blond scowled. "We should clean the deck again. Wouldn't want your moss spreading and infecting all of us."

"It's more likely that your curly-brow will be used for target practice by marines before that happens."

The cook snorted. "The dumbass marines can't even catch Usopp. How are they going to catch me?"

Silence.

"I'm done!" Zoro announced, standing up.

"Huh? Already?"

"Yeah."

"That's fast."

"I told you it would be fast. Unlike the time you take to dress yourself," the green haired grinned, dodging a kick. He started folding his letter and packing up the ink set.

"Well excuse me for not dressing like a slob. Let me see the damn painting. I don't believe you actually painted."

The swordsman batted away the outstretched pale hand. "You need to let it dry first."

"Just let me see. I won't pick it up."

"Suit yourself." Zoro stepped out of from behind the desk, letters in one hand, the ink set in the other. "Don't come to me if you got ink on your hands or anything."

"Yeah, yeah. Get the fuck out."

Sanji studied the painting, noting the neat brush strokes that overlapped each other. "What the fuck is this shit?'

"Hmm? Isn't that you?" the other man was almost out the door.

"This isn't me. This is a giant spiral between… mountains," the blond grabbed the paper to shove it in the ex-pirate hunter's face.

"Those aren't mountains. It's your hair," the man patiently said, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"So that's my eyebrow?!" the cook screeched, staring at the painting again. "That's just my eyebrow then! I thought you were drawing me?!"

"Yeah, I was. You're 90% curly-brow, 10% perverted cook. I thought I should capture your good side."

"Fuck you!"

"Enjoy your painting. It really shows who you are."

With a careless wave, the dumbass swordsman was gone from the room like a fucking asshole he was.

Today's lunch was onigiri and it really didn't mean anything that Sanji gave Zoro his sake after a little less arguing.

The cook was planning on dinner being white rice and sea king meat (and yes, it was just a coincidence that today's meals were just filled with the swordsman's favorite foods) when the door opened.

Sanji waited, lighting up a cigarette.

"Cook, let it go. It's in the past already," the contralto voice quietly spoke.

"Doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt," the blond blew out smoke.

"…thanks…. Luffy said he wanted more meat in the onigiri. Or better yet, just make it out of meat," Zoro changed the subject.

"Tell him he's not getting any. Onigiri's supposed to be made with rice." The chef acknowledged the thanks with a tilt of his head.

"Mm."

There was a brief silence between them. The swordsman heavily leaning against the door.

"Hey you know, I can paint you again. If you want, I mean," he offered.

"What, trying to paint my eyebrow again?" the blond sarcastically asked.

"I'll make sure to include your eye, Cyclops."

"Hypocrite."

Outside, Robin smiled. It was too bad cook-san had to find out in a… normal way. If not, the fun might've continued for another week or so.

AND this is just me shoehorning Zoro into a traditional Japanese dude - you know, black and white painting, using the brush for letters etc. Well... I'm basing these things off Chinese stuff (Chinese black and white paintings and I have no idea if Japanese have 'traditional words' and stuff. Chinese does; there's simplified and traditional. I don't have a clue about Japanese)... so I'm technically shoehorning him into a Chinese dude?

Argh. I don't even know.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. Italics part is just to symbolize that it's the same part as before.

School's opening soon so I might not get to update that frequently.

Thanks for reading!