"It's been some time since our last sparring session," Mihawk stated, standing tall in the courtyard and facing Zoro.

Zoro nodded. Both had their hands clasped behind their backs and their swords sheathed at their right sides.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir."

They bowed to each other and drew their swords.

"En garde," Mihawk announced, and they began dueling, sparks flying and swords clashing. Each knew of the other's skill and did not make any moves they knew the other could not block.

But throughout the duel, Zoro found his mind wandering, despite that muscle memory kept his blade going in the usual fashion. He couldn't help but think of how hostile he and Sanji had been towards each other when they'd first met, always spitting insults and sparring with sword and leg.

And how long that had gone on! But when had it changed?

Sometime following the funeral of Sanji's mother? Yes, it was around then . . .

It was the words of praise, wasn't it? The ones which had kept both their minds occupied for months on end until they'd finally confronted each other about it . . .

And later they'd confessed that they—well.

And the kisses—they had felt almost real, the way th—

It was a slash of blinding pain which brought Zoro back to earth. His hand had slipped, had failed to block the newest blow.

He dropped to one knee, clutching his sword and bringing his other hand up to the left side of his face, both eyes squeezed shut.

"Zoro?"

Zoro felt something warm and wet beneath his hand.

"I'll get you to the medic."


Zoro left the clinic, his face bandaged so his left eye was covered. Mihawk's blade had done quite the damage.

Mihawk himself met Zoro partway.

"Apologies," Zoro said, bowing. "I should have blocked that. I let my mind wander; it won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," Mihawk said sternly. "I, too, apologize. I noticed you were distracted, however . . . what could have pulled your mind away?"

Zoro shook his head, straightening up. "It's nothing."


"ZORO! What happened to your eye?!" Chopper exclaimed.

In la Colline, Zoro found himself surrounded by an eager crowd. Vivi relayed what they saw to Robin.

"An accident while dueling," Zoro admitted, touching his left eye. The bandages had been removed at last, leaving a shiny, thick, vertical scar over the eyelid. "My hand slipped, that's all."

Brook signed something.

"'Can I see out—?' I'm afraid not," Zoro admitted. "The muscle was damaged, so I can't open it even if I wasn't blinded."

"We could fix it, if you like," Luffy offered, raising his wand. Nami and Vivi did the same, almost threateningly.

"Oh, I—I appreciate it, but that's not necessary," Zoro said, waving a hand. They lowered their wands. "I don't mind too much, and this is a good reminder not to drop my guard in a duel again."

"I'm so glad it wasn't too bad," Merry sighed, peering up at the wound curiously. "I wouldn't look forward to escorting you anywhere . . ."

"Are you sure you won't even let them fix the eyelid damage?" Usopp said loudly, approaching Zoro and examining the scar closely. "Franky and I would be happy to make you a glass eye—"

"Anytime," Franky said eagerly. "It could shoot a beam of light—"

"With different colors, and the eye itself could be blue and gold—"

"No, I think green and gold would suit him more—"

"The eyeball is still intact, you know," Zoro muttered.

"Yes, but that could be removed," Franky said dismissively.

"I'm not allowing either of you near my face!"


"What happened?!"

Zoro winced at the worry in Sanji's tone. He briefly explained what had happened with his eye.

"But it's nothing to cry over," he finished. "Hey, I'm talking to you. Don't be upset."

"You should take better care of yourself," Sanji said at last. "Since when do you get distracted in a duel? Did someone compliment you?"

"Shut it!"

"It doesn't look awful," Sanji said, tilting his head up to press his lips softly on the scar while his hands rested on Zoro's shoulders. "Really, it almost suits you . . . a battle scar for the warrior."

"I'm no warrior," Zoro protested, draping his arms over Sanji's shoulders and resting his head on one.

"You sure do seem like one to me," Sanji said, grabbing Zoro and dragging him to the ground so he himself lay on top.

Zoro flipped him over. "If you say so."

"Still, that you can't see out of one eye . . ." Sanji murmured, flipping him back over.

"Says the one who chooses to cover half his face," Zoro pointed out, flipping him over again. They were a few meters from their starting point now.

"I can see a bit through my hair. Just because others can't see my left eye . . ." Sanji flipped him over.

"Regardless," Zoro said, flipping Sanji over once more and leaning down to touch noses, "it's not important."


When they next met, Sanji had made a slight change to his style. His hair was now parted on the left and combed down over the right side of his face, obscuring that eye from view. The eyebrow on his left side curled towards his nose rather than his ear.

"What's with the change?" Zoro asked in surprise.

"We . . ." Sanji's ears went pink. "It sort of completes us, doesn't it? Now your left eye's covered, and my right's covered . . . so . . ."

He trailed off.

"Maybe it was silly," he muttered.

"It is," Zoro said. "But I appreciate it all the same. You look good either way."

Sanji grinned.


"There you go!"

Zoro, Hancock, and Vivi had come out to the woods with Chopper to observe his flying and transformation practice. They watched the sky as Chopper came floating down, straining to keep a steady pace so he would not crash.

"Keep it up!" Vivi exclaimed.

"You've not much farther to go!" Hancock called.

Chopper picked up speed, but it was not dangerous yet, so Vivi needed not fly up to catch him. He floated down bit by bit until he landed safely on the forest floor—perhaps a bit hard, but safely.

"I did it!" he cheered, jumping up and down. "I didn't crash, and I flew to the treetops!"

"Congratulations!" Vivi exclaimed, leaning down to pick him up. "You did so well!"

Zoro grinned. "That was really impressive, Chopper."

"Aw . . . compliments won't make me happy, you bastards!" Chopper exclaimed happily, wriggling in Vivi's arms.

Hancock eyed Zoro as he smiled at Chopper's antics.

"Zoro . . ."

Zoro, Vivi, and Chopper looked over to Hancock.

"I just want to say . . ." Hancock smiled. "I'm so glad my curse didn't hold as I'd intended."

Zoro rubbed the back of his neck. "Strangest way to give a compliment I've ever heard, but I'll take it. Thank you."

Vivi smiled and turned around. "Should we go back? I think Chopper's tired."

"'M not," Chopper protested, though he made no move to walk on his own.

They began making their way back to la Colline, Zoro bringing up the rear.

"It's just over half a year until your twentieth birthday, Monsieur Zoro, is it not?" Vivi asked.

Hancock glanced to the side while Zoro nodded. "Yes, that sounds right."

"Curses and other magics can be fickle things, especially if one is not practiced in casting them," Vivi said, shooting a glance at Hancock, who became fascinated with the ground. "Things can go wrong in unexpected ways."

Zoro narrowed his eyes. "Are you saying I might die after all?"

"Possibly, though I pray that isn't the case," Vivi said. "It is always difficult to say with this sort of thing."

She unconsciously tightened her grip on Chopper but quickly loosened up again when he squeaked in alarm.

"I'll take whatever comes my way," Zoro said confidently. "I'm sure if anything went wrong, magic would be able to fix it anyhow."

Vivi said nothing.


"What do you mean, you've never—?"

"I mean I've never danced," Zoro said, looking away. "It's not difficult to understand."

Sanji folded his arms. "Why in the world not?"

"The occasion never arose."

"I'll teach you."

Zoro looked back. "Pardon?"

"I'll teach you to dance," Sanji said, "if you like."

Zoro shrugged. "I suppose . . . but shouldn't a dance have music to it?"

"I know a song," Sanji said, smiling. He closed his eyes for a moment, and soon an orchestral melody faded into the dream.

"What's this?"

"I don't recall the title, but I've always found it lovely," Sanji said. He extended a hand. "May I have this dance?"

"Of course."

Sanji narrowed his eyes. "Take my hand."

"Oh—" Zoro lifted his own hand and placed it into Sanji's waiting palm.

"Now, we bring these . . . here," Sanji said, drawing closer and stretching both their arms so their clasped hands were out to the side. With his other hand he reached around and held Zoro's back; a look encouraged Zoro to do the same.

"Follow my lead, one foot at a time . . ."

They began slowly stepping back and forth, sometimes spinning, and soon sped up to match the music's tempo. Their heights, even now, were the same, and Sanji smiled into Zoro's right eye while Zoro gazed dumbly at Sanji's left.

"You've got the hang of it," Sanji said. As the music slowed, so did they.

"You think so?" Zoro muttered, glancing down.

"Aye." Sanji brought their outstretched hands closer so they bent at the chest and hovered just at their shoulders. Their steps and spins were so slow one would think the clock had frozen just for them.

They had stopped altogether by the time the music faded away, their bodies pressed close and their foreheads touching. Neither dared say it aloud, but each imagined they could feel the other's warmth.

"Do you ever get the feeling . . ." Zoro murmured. "That you're having a dream so good . . . you don't want to wake up from it?"

"Yes . . . and it's been happening more and more."

They kissed slowly, lingering on the moment.