When Usopp thinks of Zoro, he thinks of many things. He thinks of swords more powerful than they have any right to be, slicing through wood and rock and steel in the same way Sanji's knives fly through potatoes and onions. He thinks of a voice raised against Sanji's, yowling and snarling like stray cats, as if they're children and not two of the most powerful people Usopp's ever known. He thinks of unspoken loyalties, ripples in the water as he dives after Luffy. He thinks of the quiet smile he received after he returned to the crew, nothing like the rowdy cheers he received from the rest of the crew (and a quiet part of him still wonders at that - what does a warrior who operates solely on honour think of his shameful act?). He thinks of loud cheers, and booze, and snores that rumble the cabin every night until he feels tempted to stuff his nostrils with cotton and actually did on one occasion with Chopper's help which, in hindsight, was a truly awful idea. He also kind of thinks of algae, but that's completely Sanji's fault and Zoro will never ever know unless he eavesdrops on Usopp busting his gut at Sanji's muttered curses one day.
Those are all secondary to the main thing that comes to mind: dark, angry bloodstains against grim white bandages. That's how he's used to seeing Zoro most of the time on their journey - from the time when Mihawk's blade cut him through from shoulder to hip to whatever the hell had happened on Thriller Bark, Zoro was constantly, consistently wounded, and was still one of the strongest of them all anyway. Maybe because of it, Usopp has thought more than once, because like a hero in one of those stories, Zoro never shows his back to his enemy, never cowers, never flees. That's why Usopp's used to seeing Zoro's back in battle, for he's the one who lags behind. Usopp's pretty sure that every enemy he's faced is very, very well acquainted with his back on account of the fact that his first instinct is flight, his second instinct is flight, his third instinct is flight and his instinct is only fight when he finds himself running into a wall unless he can, of course, climb that wall.
Standing up while you're injured, now that's strength. It's also stupidity, like sailing out into a sea lousy with sea monsters and dangerous pirates and marines with extraordinarily strong weapons is stupid. Stupid like leaving a comfortable life and a loving wife behind is stupid. Stupid like setting out in a barrel. Stupid like allowing an assassin on your boat and asking a skeleton to join your crew upon first glance is stupid. A certain type of stupidity, Usopp has determined, is just one small part of being a man.
Except now, Usopp finds himself watching Zoro as he moves across the deck, unable to forget the way his body just gave out on him on Sabaody Archipelago. And now, Zoro looks... well, maybe not healthy 'cause his eye is missing (and frankly, Usopp's going crazy with curiosity but nobody else is asking and like hell he's going to be the first to ask and sometimes he really hates the unspoken policy that people don't really talk about their pasts on this ship due to both his natural inquisitiveness and his own lack of concern for his own mundane past). But Zoro's not bandaged, he's not bloody, and Usopp's a little surprised to note that he finds it to be a bizarre sight.
One day, while he's sprawled on the deck and slurping on some fruit and vegetable juice Sanji whipped up, he watches Zoro lift weights. Which is fairly normal. What isn't normal is the way that Zoro puts down his weights after he finishes one set and finally says, "What."
Usopp looks behind him to see if there's anyone else Zoro could be talking to, but no such luck. "Huh?"
Zoro places a hand on his shoulder and rolls it. It cracks. "You keep on staring."
"Oh." Well, he's not about to say, you see Zoro, I'm busy staring at you because it's weird seeing you not two steps away from falling apart at the joints and you collapsing two years ago really really freaked me out and I expected you to join up with us inexplicably covered with blood since that's kind of your specialty, mostly because he happens to be very attached to his limbs, thank you very much. Instead, he says, "Uh. Your weights."
"Eh?"
"Your weights," he says, then realizes the grain of truth behind the lie. "Um, I was wondering if I could use them one day."
Zoro regards him in plain surprise, looks down at his weights, then looks at Usopp. "You want to use my weights?"
Usopp blanches. "Not those ones, obviously, I'd die. I meant... you know, if you have any smaller ones. To train." And that makes sense, all of a sudden, because he needs to keep up training like Zoro does if he ever wants to keep up with the rest of them now that he's seen what they can do.
Zoro scratches the back of his head and rises to his feet, looking vaguely pleased - at least, as pleased as Zoro ever looks which in Usopp's mind is only two steps above 'mildly irritated'. "Is that all? You should've said something earlier. Yeah, I've still got some old weights. You want them now?"
"Sure."
"All right," he says and lumbers off, presumably to the weight room, a room that's gone unused since their return to the Sunny. Just like Usopp leaves the door to his workshop open these days to make sure he can hear the voices of his crewmates, Zoro seems to prefer lifting weights on the deck where he can see the entire crew go about their daily business.
He comes back carrying a small assortment of weights as easily as if he were carrying dishes back to the kitchen for washing, and carefully puts each one down so not to dent the deck and arouse Franky's ire. There was an unfortunate incident on the rails involving meat, a rumble ball and a new batch of particularly delicate explosives that riled their shipwright up the other day, and they had made the hilarious - albeit still terrifying - revelation that when Franky gets steamed up in his new body, his nose jams and his hair soon begins to resemble that of the Sunny's.
"Here," Zoro says, nods once at Usopp with approval in his eyes and sets back to work.
Right. Weights. Usopp can do this. He's gotten a lot stronger after all this time, after all, so he tentatively wraps his hand around one. "Oi, Zoro, I didn't think you had any weights this small," he notes. "How old are these?"
"I used them in my mouth."
His usual sense of curiosity suddenly curbed, Usopp hurriedly wipes it off with the fabric of his pants, because of all the things Zoro is meticulous about (training, taking care of his swords, training, training, fighting with Sanji like clockwork and training), personal hygiene isn't one of them. It's not one of his either, admittedly, but he's better at it than Zoro.
He picks it up and it starts a bit more wobbly than he'd like, but he eventually falls into what he thinks is a good rhythm. This isn't that hard, he thinks, though it does hurt. He's in the middle of wondering if it's supposed to feel like this when Zoro glides over and places his hands around each side of the weight. "Not like that."
"Eh?"
"Haven't you ever used weights before?"
Usopp blinks at him. "Why would I?"
"Because you've been training."
"Yeah,by fighting those giant plants on that island, not by using these things! Where would I even find them?" And where, for that matter, does Zoro find his? Usopp cannot imagine that weights the size of men are in high demand.
Zoro grunts and frowns, then moves Usopp's hand over to the middle of the weight. "Don't do it off to the side like that. You're not using any of the right muscles. And you'll hurt yourself. Try now. No, that's wrong. Again. Not like that. Again."
Zoro's not a gentle instructor. He frowns most of the time, and his corrections are swift and sharp. Normally Usopp would feel a bit discouraged at that after two years of Heracles' instruction, which was both enthusiastic and gentle at the same time, filled with vigor and unabashed joy and a passion for life itself. But at the same time, the fact that the swordsman is taking the time to patiently correct his form every time he puts a finger out of place - something that Heracles often did not do, for the man could be distracted by his own shadow - means that he thinks it's worth teaching Usopp how to do it properly.
By the time Usopp's through, his arms are aching like nothing else and he eyes Zoro's bigger weights with more animosity than before. He exhales, stretches. "I get it now. Thanks." He pauses as he remembers Zoro's sleeve continuously dangling in front of his face during the corrections. "Hey, that dress-robey thing - doesn't it get in the way when you're fighting?"
"It's not a dress," Zoro growls petulantly.
"Okay, okay, it's not a dress." Usopp slides onto the ground and plants his feet together. "But my question still stands, y'know."
"If it got in the way, I wouldn't wear it."
"Doesn't seem like the stuff you usually pick out, though."
"Mihawk gave it to me. He said that he was tired of looking at my old clothes."
Usopp quirks a brow at him. "Eh?"
"'Cause they were covered in sweat and blood," Zoro says, and Usopp swears that that's a cocky smile on his face, and oh god that is a cocky smile on his face because of course Zoro is proud of smelling to high heaven of his exploits. Zoro sees the expression on the sharpshooter's face, and gestures at Usopp's gear. "It's not as if you're wearing the same thing either."
"Ah - yeah, I'm not." Usopp tugs at his pants. "I was stuck on that one island for a long time and my overalls were getting dirty, so I ended up sewing this after a while."
"You look like a fisherman."
"I do not-" He pauses to assess himself. "Okay, yeah, I guess I can see it. But I didn't mean to! I just got the crotch wrong." He frowns down at them. "And the waist, so I had to use suspenders... and I guess the legs are kinda..."
Zoro grins at him, and Usopp gets the distinct impression that he is being laughed at. "It doesn't matter what you wear anyway," he says, which is certainly true in Usopp's eyes as he is a firm believer in reasonable, useful, hardy clothing you can run and jump and climb in. Zoro gets up to walk away, but before he goes he roughly pushes Usopp's hat down over his eyes. "Do another set of reps before you go to bed if you want to improve."
"Don't tell me what to do," Usopp grumbles.
But he ends up doing it anyway, because he wants to get stronger. The Zoro with the broad back, with white bandages dappled with red, the Zoro he admired as being a man - sure, that's cool. Now that Zoro's whole and well again, though, that's not something Usopp wants to see again if he can help it. He trusts in his sniping abilities, in quick fingers and sharp eyes and a mind working at strategies as quickly as his tongue weaves enthralling lies, however sometimes one needs pure brute strength for quick, close combat situations. That, he cannot do with reliability.
The weights are a start.
