Zorin is frozen, his eyes on the notched arrow, that bow held perfectly steady in the firm grasp of the imposing man blocking the way to the throne room. The man who has Sanjius' sun-kissed hair and strong chin, but absolutely none of his warmth, his lips drawn into a grim snarl and eyebrows pulled tight beneath the golden armored helmet he wears over his brow.

Zorin's eyes follow the slow drip of that purple poison onto the plush carpet, but his ears are tuned to the sound of the crackling fire now burning outside the doors, where, a few mere moments ago, Luffient and Robisia had been fighting their way across the front gardens to join him and the prince.

And now they are gone. Simply gone, in a fateful instant.

The roar and hiss of the flames as the rain pelts them is filling his ears, screaming loud and clear where Luffient's strong voice had been. Luffient's voice, which had always reassured him that everything would definitely be fine, that even their small numbers would be enough to win when their kingdom's future was on the line.

But now his captain's voice has vanished, suddenly, and though the flames burn tall and thunderous, warming him from behind, the world is quiet and cold, and Zorin has never felt more alone, more terrified than he feels in that moment, not even after losing his sister.

Because not only are Robisia and Luffient gone, not only is that massive silence deafening…

But it is nothing compared to the sound of his Prince's labored breathing, his boots dragging limply across the floor as two guards drag him from the hall.

And Zorin's eyes remain fixed on that arrow, watching the fist holding it for any twitch, any sign that the man will release it and hit the prince again.

He hadn't been able to stop it. Despite everything he'd promised the prince, promised himself...he'd failed.

And he knows he now must do whatever it takes to save him, even if that costs him his own life. Sanjius will surely be livid, but it's unacceptable, what he's allowed to happen.

He now has to do whatever it takes. Because if he doesn't, who will?

He starts to reach for a sword, but his enemy's piercing glare sharpens and he draws his bow tighter, aiming at the prince with new resolve, enough that Zorin is forced to drop his hand.

He can't even watch as they take him away, can only flinch at the sound of the heavy doors to the side of the hall slamming, the sound taking with it any proof that Sanjius has not been harmed further. Along with any reason for Zorin to continue to stand idle.

The knight is ready when that notched arrow flies, sword drawn perhaps faster than ever as he quickly slices the arrow in half, sending it falling uselessly to the carpet below, nothing more than a stick.

His enemy quickly draws another, but Zorin is already rushing forward to close the gap between them, knowing long range is where this monster has his advantage.

He is fast, fast enough that the man sees the futility of his arrow and discards his bow to pull a long broadsword from his side, the polished silver of the blade flickering orange with the firelight licking into the building's interior.

It fuels Zorin's rage as much as it's stripped him of everything, and their blades clash with a high-pitched singing that sounds more like a whine to Zorin's ears, the prince's cry of pain yet to fade from his mind.

The man is massive up close, much taller than Zorin, and his bulk has surely intimidated lesser men. But Zorin cannot be intimidated. He can't even feel any sort of hesitation because the second he does, he could lose what he has left, the most important something, the sole thing his heart beats for now.

"This kingdom is his!" Zorin growls up at the man, pushing all his strength against his sword. "He will be king and you will not take that from him!"

"It's too late for that," the man sneers back at him before shoving off Zorin's weight with another high-pitched scrape of metal.

The two of them dance apart several paces, Zorin taking the opportunity to reach for his other swords at his hip, heavy breaths leaving him even though he's hardly exerted himself yet. He can't control it, not knowing the prince is in trouble, not when he knows he must do what the prince can't right now if he is to save him.

He brings the hilt of his prized sword to his mouth, clamps onto the ornate silver hilt with teeth, and he's about to draw another when, suddenly, there's a noise behind him, over the crackle of flames. It's a soft noise, like the flutter of wings, and in fact, a flash of yellow darts by in his peripheral.

Zorin dares not take his gaze from his enemy, but it seems whatever has arrived has distracted the man, because his focus averts to a small golden bird that now hovers in between them.

Zorin has little time for confusion though before the bird transforms, wings lengthening and feathers dissipating in a shower of marigold ash that fades into the air. Human arms begin to take shape, legs, a torso, and a head of blond hair following quickly after.

And then a man, shorter, and a little stout, stands there in front of Zorin, his back to the knight but his stance powerful as he faces down the man Zorin's been fighting, his red robe tattered, but regal.

"Jajjius," he snarls, in a voice that is world-weary and weathered, yet fierce. "You've gone too far."

Jajjius' lips pull up in a sneer.

"Far enough to drag His Cowardly Majesty out of hiding," he growls back in a mocking tone, following it with a sarcastic bow. "King Zephyr. What an honor."

Zorin's eyes widen a fraction, a jolt of surprise shooting through his chest.

The King….Sanjius' grandfather…. Alive…?

But how? Where has he been all these years…?

"Go!"

Zorin looks up to find the king addressing him, his head turned slightly over his shoulder, so that Zorin can see the long blond mustache that juts out below his nose, and the hard lines dragging through his skin.

"Go after him!" he orders again, and Zorin suddenly realizes that he is here to help, amazingly.

He wastes no time, swords still drawn. The knight turns and sprints for the doors through which the prince disappeared.

Behind him, there is movement, a feral sound coming from Jajjius, and he sees the glow of magic sparkle over the walls, illuminating the shadows of the two men lunging for each other, larger than life.

Zorin's heart beats frantically as he slashes right through the massive doors on the side of the hall, foregoing doorknobs altogether in favor of crashing into them, sending wood flying in splinters as he stumbles into the hallway beyond.

The corridor is long and dark, illuminated only by ornamental candlestick holders that seem to flicker infinitely in either direction. Portraits of past rulers and royal family members stare him down with judgmental eyes.

Heavy breaths huff out over the hilt of his sword because he has no idea where the dungeon is, can't even hear anything save for the clanging of a blade in the entrance hall, the grunts and footfalls as the two men clash.

He feels terribly alone, suddenly, alone and lost, but still he runs, using his gut and taking off to his left instinctually.

"I'm coming for you," he finds himself gritting out, the thunder of his footsteps clapping loudly on the polished wood floor, the candles becoming continuous streaks of light on either side of him as he races. "Please - don't give up!"

"Don't do this - don't - fucking-! Urgh!"

Sanji's breaths heaved and panted around his words, rain pouring from the sky, soaking his hair and running into his eyes. But still, he ran as fast as he could down the street, jagged lightning flashing in clean lines, illuminating the sky, thunder accompanying close behind.

This was dangerous. This was fucking dangerous, but he didn't care, could only focus on running, down the street towards the beach because it was the only direction Zoro would go, the only place he really knew to go to. It had to be right. Because if he couldn't find him….

No, he wouldn't think of that.

That stubborn idiot, Sanji thought as he sprinted, misty streetlamps the only thing guiding his way past the dark empty houses on their street.

He had to stop him, had to do something before Zoro ruined his own life, all for the sake of Sanji's.

Zorin reaches a wall, or rather, a window, outside which whips tall, slim grass from the gardens outside, flicking anxiously like the angry tails of cats in the storm still raging outside.

The knight growls, faced, again, with a directional choice, knowing with every second he wastes, the prince could be slipping further away.

He can't succumb to frustration, though he wants to scream, panicked shudders wracking his body and threatening to rip all control from him in a way he's never quite felt before. He's always had people to rely on, but now there is no one but himself.

He is the only one with any chance of saving his prince.

Another second, then he darts right, hoping, just short of praying, for once in his life, that he's going the right way.

Sanji ran until he hit the sand dunes, faced with that wall of waving grass that parted in several places along the road, providing access paths to the beach beyond. He could hear the roar of the waves, shivered as the wind howled and the rain chilled his skin, already soaking through his shirt and pants easily.

He couldn't see shit. There was no sign of a bike, no footprints in the sand, nothing, not that there would be with the rain quickly erasing any indentations it wrought.

Why would Zoro be here? Why would Zoro go towards an open space? Why wouldn't he seek shelter somewhere?

But Sanji couldn't think logically, knowing Zoro's directional sense worked in strange ways.

So he made the decision to rush through the nearest corridor of grass, bursting forth onto the beach beyond and taking off once more towards the pier, skirting the low rope fences on the edge of the dunes.

Zoro had always had the mysterious ability to find him easily in times of crisis. Could he do the same for Zoro?

When Zorin finds himself at another dead end, he doesn't hesitate this time. He wrenches open the heavy metal doors in front of him, discovering a dark, torch-lit set of stairs that spirals down into a winding abyss.

It's difficult to see, save for one thing. The flicker of the firelight over wet droplets of blood that he now notices are scattered across the floor, on the steps.

His teeth grit down on his sword hard in fear, but down he goes, a hand slamming into the stone wall to catch himself when he nearly trips and tumbles in his haste. Still, he keeps going, spiraling down in dizzying circles until he hears a distant slam that echoes somewhere in the cavernous space.

A slam, and the sound of men's voices.

His eyes widen.

He doesn't hear the prince, but it's something.

He doesn't stop.

When his feet hit the wooden pier, Sanji's heart nearly stopped upon seeing Zoro's discarded bike at the end, thrown haphazardly at the foot of the stairs leading up to the boardwalk above. A wheel spun ominously in the howling wind, and Sanji realized with worry that there was only one way to go now.

His foot hit the first step, cracking in tandem with the thunder above, and he began to power up, palms smacking onto the wood when he nearly slipped in a slick puddle. Trembling limbs pushed him up again quickly.

Breaths panted.

His hair slapped into his eyes and his shirt clung uncomfortably to his torso, but he didn't care.

It was quiet, save for the storm.

Still, he kept going.

He couldn't be too late. He couldn't.

Zorin lands at the foot of the stairs with a loud clatter, giving away his position entirely, but it doesn't matter. Because what lies before him is a long line of cells, most pitch black, save for a beacon of light towards the end of the corridor, a bright orange circle spotlighting the two guards dragging the prince.

Zorin's vision narrows, eyes suddenly predatory and vicious.

Feral instinct propels him forward with a bound.

Sanji arrived at the top of the stairs, faced with the dark expanse of the pier stretching out over the ocean before him.

The waves thumped and crashed against the wood beneath his feet, and he even noticed the ghostly spray of water splashing far higher than usual over the railings on either side.

There was nothing in sight….save for the tiny white light he could barely make out at the end of the pier, coming from his 3DS. Lightning flashed and there was Zoro, a huddled silhouette beneath the pagoda of the observation deck.

The breath shuddered out of Sanji and he rushed forward.

The torch, carried by one of the guards, clatters to the ground the instant Zorin's sword slashes the man's stomach. It rolls along the dirt floor, flame spinning, and hits the wall, where it continues to burn, forgotten, in the corner.

Similarly, the other guard drops Sanjius, who collapses and lies there on his side, unmoving.

Zorin's heart nearly rips in two at the sight, but still, he must focus on the guard before him, who has foolishly drawn his sword as his companion coughs up blood and stumbles to the side where he too falls to the floor in a heap.

The man lowers his stance and pulls his blade back in surprisingly good form before pivoting and slashing across in a precise arc.

Zorin counters it easily, blocking with a flick of his wrist and pushing downward, so he can spin himself, his two swords in either hand a fast cyclone aimed to catch the man with a razor sharp slice.

The guard is skilled though. He ducks low to avoid the attack, at the same time lifting his sword quickly to disrupt the whirl of Zorin's blades with a loud clang of metal.

Zorin doesn't have time for this. The prince hasn't moved since tumbling to the ground, and he can see the blood pooling beneath him.

He's right there, but he could lose him if this man doesn't fall.

Zorin swings his swords once more with a vengeance.

.

The pier was long, longer than Sanji remembered. And he wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not.

.

The guard's blood gushes red when Zorin cuts his throat.

.

Sanji's feet squeaked and splashed on the wet boards.

.

The guard hits the floor with a choked gasp, a violent twitch, and then nothing more.

.

A wave crashed high, spilling foaming water over the edge of the railing and into Sanji's path.

.

Zorin kicks the man's body aside, stepping right over him to get to the prince.

.

Sanji fell to his knees, water rushing around his ankles and tears rolling down his cheeks.

.

Zorin collapses beside the prince, trembling hands reaching out to turn him onto his back as gently as can be.

.

Why was he so cold, why did it hurt to move even when Zoro was so close? He closed his eyes.

.

"No… Your Highness," Zorin murmurs, fingers brushing hair from his face, scanning his still features fearfully. The prince doesn't move, just lies there with slack lips and skin far too pale. No response to Zorin's words. Blood slowly seeps across his torso.

"Your Highness - Sanjius!" Zorin growls with panic, shaking his shoulder and then hunching over to take his face in both hands, thumbs stroking desperately. A pathetic whimper threatens to rip from his throat the longer Sanjius doesn't respond. "Open your eyes. Come on. Please, you can't-!"

The prince twitches ever so slightly, his chest lifting in a deeper breath that immediately has him cough, the sound wet and choked, but his eyelids flutter and it's enough. He's alive.

"Z...Zorin…" he breathes in a tiny weak whisper, even though his eyes have yet to open fully.

His knight huffs out a sigh of relief, entire body shaking, but he leans down without thinking to press his forehead to the prince's. Closing his eyes for a few moments, he tries to focus himself, let his relief clear his head.

"It's alright," he murmurs, not yet moving.

Then he sits up, slipping arms beneath Sanjius' form to try and get him into his arms.

"Here," he says. "Hold onto me. I'll find an apothecary. O-Or a healer. You'll be fine - come on."

He's stammering, words trying to be confident, but failing rather miserably.

Because Sanjius is limp in his arms, slumping against his chest heavily. His blood drips onto the floor.

Zorin's heart beats madly in his chest beneath the prince's head, and he struggles to lift him, despite his massive physical strength. Something is weighing him down, and he doesn't want to accept this growing realization within him…

"You're strong - you can do this! Please, just-"

He looks down to meet a blurry blue gaze, the prince's eyes not leaving his for a long, final moment.

"Zo - Zorin…" he breathes, lips turning up in the faintest of smiles. "I-I….."

"I'm right here - I'm getting you out of here!" Zorin cries, jostling him to keep his attention, voice sounding foreign in its terror. "Don't give up!"

But the blond is slipping again, his smile slowly fading, eyes closing and his body growing even heavier in Zorin's arms.

The knight lets out a clenched sob, tears not quite having caught up to the reaction that's been building in his chest.

He clutches Sanjius tighter, both arms circling him, and holds him close, burying his face in his collar.

"Don't-" he chokes out, his heart wanting to fight for him, more than anything, but his mind competing, telling him the sneering truth. "Don't leave - come on - y-you - please - please don't-"

He feels Sanjius shift minutely. A brush of lips against his jaw.

His tears finally spill out, his hand reaching up to tangle in the prince's blond hair, supporting his head as it begins to fall back, the breaths barely moving his chest starting to come in short gasps.

Zorin quakes with the burgeoning grief as those breaths come fewer, the moments between stretching longer.

Three small, but important words burst through his own heart, almost a plea, as if they can get the prince to stay, but it's no use. He can't get them out in time before a long moment of silence passes.

He waits for the prince to take another breath.

But he never does.

And when Zorin pulls back in horror, the prince's head lolls, his lips tinted a deathly shade of purple beneath the blood.

He is entirely still.

Everything drains from Zorin in one fell swoop, his anguish, his terror….

Zorin can only stare with a wide-eyed gaze, his own breaths slow and scarce, despite the rapid beat of his heart.

"Sanjius…" he whispers, but there's nothing.

No reply, not even when his hand slides over his cheek, his chest.

His world cuts to black for an instant, his entire surroundings disappearing for a split second before he finds himself thrust cruelly back into that moment, cradling Sanjius in his arms, completely, truly alone.

He shudders.

Slowly, and with great reverence and care, he uncurls himself from the prince and lays him down, supporting his head gently.

He kneels there, his chest tight and burning, as if a pair of claws has ripped it in two. Still, he kneels there quietly before the prince, looking at him, but trying not to process what he sees, tries not to accept the fact that the prince's silent stillness is final.

If he ignores the paleness of his skin, his unmoving chest, and the crimson stain seeping through the fabric of his vest, the prince looks regal and peaceful.

His blond hair has begun to dry in soft golden waves, his face no longer contorted in pain, perhaps calmer than he's seen it in a while, and the blood on his lips actually serves to color them.

Zorin stares at him, and the longer he does, the longer Sanjius doesn't open his eyes, the harder Zorin's breaths come, despite his best efforts to stay calm.

But it's subconscious panic, and he is powerless to stop his body reacting to this horrific loss, not knowing, in that moment, what to do or where he will even go.

The world around him begins to darken again, the edges of his vision swimming in and out of focus, the torches on the wall seeming to flicker into blackness with increasing frequency.

Zorin ignores it and leans over, tenderly bringing hands to the prince's head, and presses a kiss to his forehead. Lips move to kiss each of his cheeks, and then he finds himself over Sanjius' lips, close enough that his nose bumps the prince's.

Zorin hovers there, his breaths huffing between the inch that separates them.

His body trembles, and his vision wavers again, so he closes his eyes, willing Sanjius to respond, willing him to come back, but of course he doesn't.

There is nothing but a heavy emptiness in the air, and a sudden gust of wind beside him, strong enough that his eyes snap open and he turns a blurry, exhausted gaze slowly to his left.

He catches a female form suddenly appearing, morphing from the smaller shape of a moth, her long purple cape fluttering out behind her like wings, pointed boots touching down onto the dirt floor beside him.

He can't react, can only stare blankly as she crouches elegantly, pink hair falling heavily over one blue eye, the other roaming over the prince's prone form.

Zorin can't even focus on how much she looks like the prince because his vision again flickers to black, his body feeling numb.

"Move aside," the woman murmurs, physically pushing him back from the prince and leaning closer herself, her hand shining with the saturated glow of magic.

Zorin staggers back, leaning heavily on a shaky arm.

His eyes are on the prince just before the corners of his vision cave in on him, swallowing the three of them into an impossible black.

The picture on the screen flickered, trembled and shook just like Zoro's hands holding the 3DS. The keening violins of the background music scratched and jerked to a halt. And then the light from the screen went out entirely, the device shutting off of its own accord.

Calmly, Zoro shut the 3DS, set it down on the picnic table beside him, and leaned forward heavily onto his knees, curling an arm over his head and staring straight out at the waves churning angrily below the pier, the lashes of rain pouring down around the pagoda like a waterfall.

He was freezing, goosebumps prickling over his bare arms, still soaked, and probably not in the safest spot, with lightning flashing far too frequently.

But he didn't move, just buried his face in the crook of his elbow and, for once, let his tears mix with the rainwater, trying not to think about the disturbing image of essentially Sanji slipping away in his arms.

He didn't move, not even when he heard a distant cry of his name, heavy footsteps pounding ever closer on the boardwalk behind him.

His chest merely clenched hard, pain ripping through his heart enough to have him clutch at the wet fabric of his T-shirt when he heard the footsteps stop at the end of the pier.

They paused there just for a minute, and then Sanji slowly moved forward and stood before the hunched form perched atop the table, beneath the canopy of the pagoda.

The blond stood there in front of Zoro, his hair plastered to his face, heavy breaths huffing from between lips, and though it was dark, he could see the glisten of wetness on Zoro's cheeks that didn't come from the rain.

Zoro stayed there, curled over his knees, hiding his face in his arms, and when his eyes lifted to Sanji's, there was sadness there, but also a resolute acceptance.

Sanji shivered, staring him down until he finally mustered the courage to ask, "Did you….?", voice thick in anticipation of Zoro's answer.

Zoro said nothing, didn't question how he found him, just looked at him with those slow tear tracks on his face, visible when the lightning lit the sky.

He nodded silently.

Sanji let out a shaky breath, eyes filling with tears too.

Then he stepped forward, unsure what was controlling him in that moment, other than his sorrowful appreciation for Zoro's sacrifice. What else could he do when Zoro had just given up his own chance at happiness for him?

Sanji climbed onto the picnic table's bench, settled himself on the tabletop next to Zoro.

He stared at Zoro, who straightened and looked at him with an emotion so intensely powerful that Sanji had to close his eyes for a moment.

"You're so stupid…" Sanji whispered, and it didn't matter if Zoro heard him over the wind and waves.

Because a second later, he brought an impulsive hand to Zoro's face, leaned in, and kissed him with every uncertainty, everything he didn't understand and yet made so much sense about Zoro. Everything he didn't think he loved or would ever miss until now.

Maybe the kiss was closed and wet. Maybe he was too nervous or distraught to explain himself or try and work through his lingering confusion just then. But he wanted Zoro to know, even if this was the only time.

He wanted him to know how much he didn't want to say goodbye….

For a moment, he felt Zoro's surprise in his sharp inhale, the tremble of his lips, and the way his hands stayed off of him.

But only for a moment before Zoro's body shuddered with a bittersweet relief, and he fell into Sanji's kiss, even if he had no idea what he was doing.

He followed his instincts, angled his head, shifted, and pulled Sanji closer with hands threaded in soaked hair, parted his lips and pressed back, the gesture enough to make Sanji whimper against his mouth and tilt into his grasp willingly, amazingly.

It didn't last long though, couldn't, not when Sanji pulled away for air and instantly had to clench back a sob, not when Zoro was shaking so badly with nerves and adrenaline.

Tear-filled eyes searched each other's so desperately, swirling with unanswered questions and worries but unable to get anything out in that moment.

They trusted each other, that much was clear, especially when Sanji's arms came tightly around Zoro's shoulders and Zoro's held him as close as he could manage, turning his head and burying his nose against Sanji's hair.

They were vulnerable, and scared, and even if Sanji hadn't kissed him, hadn't come at all, it wouldn't have mattered.

Sanji's life was about to get better, Zoro knew. Even if that meant he wasn't going to be part of that picture.

They walked back to the house eventually, though the downpour had ceased, leaving only a gentle drizzle, the thunder and lightning growing more and more distant with every passing minute.

They walked in silence, Zoro's hands stuck firmly to his handlebars, too nervous to initiate anything else, hearts pounding, but the glances they shared were enough, the occasional brush of their arms against each other.

The streets were slick and black, oily mirrors reflecting the streetlights, the sound of the bike tires a smooth crackle through the shallow puddles.

Sunny was a bright beacon of light amongst the empty vacation houses, its windows warm and welcoming as always. And though Robin would surely be worried, though there was a strange car neither recognized parked in the driveway, they were home, and that was all that mattered at that point.

They went through the garage, left the bike, kicked off wet shoes onto the mat beside the door and tromped into the kitchen in their drenched socks, dripping onto the tiles.

They'd barely made it a foot into the door before Robin whisked over to them, a hand at each of their cheeks and fearful concern rippling through her blue eyes.

"Zoro! Sanji! Where were you? Are you alright?" she stammered, uncharacteristically flustered, but for once, Sanji couldn't focus on her, even despite her worry.

Instead, his eyes fixed on the two figures beyond her, hovering near the kitchen counter.

There was a gruff-looking old man, with a head of graying blond and a long mustache straight out of Sanji's memories...

Beside him, a young woman jolted upright, arms crossed over her purple rain jacket nervously, dyed hair of a bright pink flopping over one of her wide eyes that were….a startling blue….just...like his….

The woman pushed away from the counter without a second thought, Robin pulling back from the two boys just before the woman reached Sanji and clamped a hand onto his arm, turning him to face her.

She stared at him in disbelief, and Sanji stared back, at the face he hadn't seen for over six years now, not since he was a young boy, taken from his abusive family and longing to stay with the one person who had been a source of comfort and support.

"...Reiju…?" he murmured to his sister, her eyes still roving his form before they landed on his.

"It really was you…" she breathed, and though he didn't know what she meant by that, he had little time to think before she yanked him forward into a tight embrace, which he couldn't help but return.

He was getting her wet, no doubt, but she didn't seem to care, just held him and chuckled tearfully.

Some of his shock began to wear away after a minute, enough that he actually felt himself smile too, squeezing her tighter and directing his gaze to the man still standing across the room.

"Grandpa," he huffed, and Reiju pulled back with a grin to ruffle a hand through his hair and look smugly at the old geezer as well.

Zeff smirked fondly, just as he used to.

Beside Sanji, Zoro's eyes closed, shoulders slumping in acceptance.

He felt Robin's fingers brush the back of his head consolingly.

"He didn't believe me. I was positive it was you, but this old guy wouldn't listen," Reiju said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at Zeff, still leaning back against the counter.

"The odds were slim to none, zucchini," the man shot back matter-of-factly, prompting Reiju to frown at the annoying nickname.

Sanji was seated between Robin and his sister at the kitchen table, hunched over with his hands in his hair, dumbfounded amazement on his features.

"I just can't believe I didn't - didn't notice you!" he croaked, wracking his brain for the moment he'd ridden through Reiju's college campus weeks ago, on the way to the game store, when he'd nearly barreled into a pedestrian - his sister apparently. "I mean-"

"You were zooming," Reiju replied, smirking and reaching out to brush back some of her little brother's damp hair. "I thought for sure you would crash your bike. But it seems you had somewhere important to be. And now you're going on bike rides in the middle of storms." She frowned. "Note to self….you're now a maniac…"

"Shut up…" he muttered, fully reminded of what had just taken place shortly before. His lips still tingled with Zoro's kiss. He was glad the mosshead had gone to get towels, because his face had exploded into a blush. "That...was…"

"We'll discuss it later," Robin interjected gently, her hand on his shoulder, and he shot her a grateful look.

A sigh, and he ultimately chose to focus on the questions that were still burning inside of him in regards to his family's arrival.

"How are - what happened?" he stammered, sitting up straighter so he could look across the room at Zeff as well. "How did you find me? And why are you….together?"

Reiju's lips turned up in a smile, gaze not leaving Sanji, still rather incredulous herself that this moment was happening.

"I've been living with Grandpa ever since we left Dad," she explained. "But I moved to Logue Town to go to GLU."

Sanji couldn't help it. An ill-founded jealousy filled his chest.

How had she managed to end up with their grandpa, while he'd been thrown into the system? It was stupid, and mean of him. He wanted the best for Reiju, and to hear she'd been fine after they'd been separated was great news. But it still hurt, considering his instability before coming to Sunny, and he couldn't quite keep his features from twisting into a pout.

"After the bike incident," his sister continued. "I started doing some serious research about where you were. I went to the social services office downtown to see if they could help. Turns out we've been living in the same city for two years, little brother."

She grinned, and while this fact was rather amazing, Sanji ultimately rounded on Zeff, unable to contain his upset and confusion.

"Why didn't you-?"

"For your protection," Zeff countered immediately, as if he'd anticipated Sanji's question. It had been a long time since they'd seen each other, but Zeff had always seemed to understand Sanji better than anyone, handling his emotional outbursts with skill.

"Your father was still on trial," he said. "And I was unfortunately still in contact with him. Considering your physical trauma, you were forcibly moved out of state to better facilities, here, apparently, because you were so young. I was able to secure custody of your sister only. It was regrettable, but it seems you've fared well here."

Sanji's jaw snapped shut, squirming in his seat a bit, jealousy simmering somewhat. The geezer was right. He'd had a fantastic life for the years he'd been here, with people he loved dearly. He'd been lucky to end up where he had….

But that still left another question. Because he and his sister only accounted for two-fifths of their family, after all.

"What about…?" he started to ask, but trailed off, not quite feeling comfortable speaking of the three brothers who had helped make his life such a living hell.

Zeff's expression, surprisingly, softened some, hardened lines and deep wrinkles smoothing between his eyebrows as he watched the boy.

"They're living in a group home back in East Blue," he answered. "They've had counseling and support and they're actually doing quite well-"

"You've been to see them…?" Sanji interrupted, bitterness in his tone, enough so that Reiju sighed and Robin squeezed his shoulder.

But Zeff was ready, sternness back in his expression as he grumbled, "Your mother would want me to."

Any retort Sanji could have had ground to a halt instantly. His mother….

Everything had been fine until her death. It had only been after that his father had spiraled into darkness, taking his brothers with him.

His mother had loved them all with everything she had...

"So why are you here…?" Sanji asked slowly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Knowing what Zoro had done with the game, he had some idea. He needn't be nervous, but still, his heart had begun a steady pounding in his chest in anticipation of Zeff's answer.

Zeff seemed satisfied with Sanji's question, his features relaxing once more.

"Your sister called me out to the city once she found you," he said. "Today, I secured guardianship. We were due to deliver the news tomorrow, but your sister here insisted we come tonight. Almost had a tree branch go through the windshield in this storm."

Despite everything, Sanji's heart skipped a beat, several, in fact.

"Wait…" he stuttered breathlessly, eyes wide, his sister smirking in his peripheral. "I'm gonna live with you? Back in East Blue?"

Zeff's lips stretched into a full-blown grin beneath his bushy mustache.

"Sure are, eggplant, so get used to it."

From around the corner in the dark living room, tucked silently behind the door frame, Zoro knocked his head against the wall, closing his eyes.

He'd expected it, of course, but hearing Sanji's grandpa say it out loud….

His heart ached...yet bursted with relief and happiness for Sanji at the same time.

A moment more, and he finally came out of hiding, turning the corner and entering the kitchen with the towel he'd grabbed for Sanji, the blond's favorite blue one peppered with cartoony angel fish.

He crossed the room and dumped the towel over Sanji's head, lips tilting up gently when Sanji flailed his way out from under the heavy fabric to look up at him.

Zoro gazed at him softly for a moment more, then turned from the room and headed back upstairs, leaving Sanji with his family.

He felt Sanji's eyes on him the whole time.

Maybe Zoro should have been polite and stayed downstairs with the guests, but he had no interest. He knew they were good people. Sanji had always spoken of his sister and grandfather fondly. And that was all that mattered. Sanji would be fine. That was all that had ever mattered to him.

After returning the spent 3DS almost reverently to the bin beneath Sanji's bed, he'd dried off and changed clothes, lying down and distracting himself with the glow-in-the-dark tigers and sharks stuck on the ceiling, their lights swirling together in one mosaic.

But his mind was still out on the pier, in the pouring rain, with Sanji's lips and his embrace working to warm him in ways he'd never thought possible.

It was with uncertainty, however, that he lay there, choosing to worry himself over Sanji's sincerity rather than the fact that he'd soon lose him. If Sanji shared his feelings, then maybe, just maybe, that could keep him content when they parted. If the thought was true that, even for a short time, Sanji had felt what he had, maybe Zoro could be okay without him…

Of course, some time later, after hearing their guests leave, Sanji and Robin coming upstairs a bit later…. After hearing the shower run and stop, soft footsteps padding down the carpeted hall until the door to their bedroom opened quietly…. After seeing Sanji step in and shut the door behind him, clad only in a towel below the waist, tossing his wet clothes in the corner and avoiding Zoro's eye….he knew.

He knew that he was wrong. Nothing could likely make him feel better about leaving Sanji.

Zoro stayed where he was on his bed, watching the blond with a tightness in his chest as Sanji opened the closet door and stepped behind it to pull on his boxers as he always did.

He didn't know what he was expecting from Sanji, if he was too upset to talk or what. Zoro wasn't necessarily scared to initiate now, but he didn't want to push Sanji, not when whatever had come over him was likely new and daunting.

So he waited to see what Sanji would do, waited until he'd pulled on his goofy striped pajama bottoms and a soft hoodie, waited as he stood with his back to Zoro for a long moment under the guise of shaking fingers through his partially dried hair.

Then he tossed his towel over the post of his bed frame and crossed the room to Zoro with conviction.

He crawled onto the mattress beside him, nervous, but determined.

Zoro let out a shuddery breath, but quickly made room, scooting closer to the wall and turning onto his side to face the cook, who curled up as well.

They didn't touch each other just yet, the close proximity enough to have hearts racing and very recent memories swirling.

Zoro was the first to speak after a long minute of watching Sanji's eyelashes batting skin gently when he blinked, noticing the bits of sunburn that stained his nose and cheeks.

"When do you leave?" he murmured, and Sanji squirmed slightly.

"Thursday," he answered. "Reiju wants to take me out to dinner tomorrow night. Might sleep over at her apartment so we can talk some more…"

Zoro nodded, unsure how else to respond, and then, tentatively, he crawled closer, slowly, giving Sanji ample time to stop him.

Sanji didn't though.

In fact, when Zoro was close enough, he tilted his chin up so he could meet Zoro's lips.

It felt just as good, just as reassuring and right as it had on the pier, and Sanji took confidence in that, drawing out the kiss for longer than planned until they were both forced to pull away with huffed exhales and bashful grins.

Zoro's knee bumped his as he whispered, "Did you mean this…?"

Sanji smiled at the hopeful tone to his voice, and he shifted a little closer until their foreheads touched.

"I think so…" he whispered back, the tiny, but relieved smile that pulled up Zoro's lips filling Sanji with warmth, perhaps more than seeing his sister and grandpa had brought.

Carefully, Zoro reached out, wrapping his arm around Sanji's waist, slowly but surely tightening his grip until he held him securely.

Sanji curled his hands at Zoro's chest, and that was where they stayed.

The following few days leading up to that fateful Thursday were hectic, filled with packing, not only of their own belongings, but of the house as well, which was owned by the city and might not see use depending on how soon they could procure a replacement for Robin.

It was sad, to see furniture covered with white tarps, to move everything out of Franky's treehouse and into storage in the basement. It was sad to pack up the bikes, and to start boxing up all of Sanji's kitchen supplies, unable to take them with him.

Of course, he wouldn't be needing them. Sanji's grandfather was a chef, and a hugely successful one at that, with his own popular restaurant. Sanji could finally practice his cooking more, really study and have the proper opportunities afforded to him, even if he'd be living several hours away, all the way in East Blue.

And Zoro would be….well, he didn't yet know where he was going, only that he was.

They were all leaving on Thursday, after all. Sanji's grandfather was coming to get Sanji. Robin was moving out to West Blue for a few weeks to receive training prior to her trip abroad.

And that left Zoro to wonder just where the social worker due to pick him up would be taking him.

Even Robin didn't have the answers, the information refused her considering she no longer worked for the city, and that was terrifying.

But Zoro remained quiet, accepting, trying to be strong when it was, in fact, Sanji that was panicking the most on his behalf, asking Robin to pull strings, practically begging her to find out Zoro's fate. They needed to stay in touch, he insisted, and Zoro knew Robin knew this, was trying her best.

And that best consisted of a list of possibilities that she had been able to research. A list of care facilities, group homes, and the names of some potential foster situations, but narrowing it down had been impossible, and Sanji had been livid, not at Robin, but at the situation.

Zoro had watched him grow increasingly agitated until it culminated their last evening in the house, the blond stomping back and forth around their bedroom, amongst the boxes and suitcases currently strewn about, ranting and fretting about all the uncertainty.

There had been nothing to do but stay calm, show Sanji he wasn't scared, even though he was, more so than he wanted to admit.

Of course, being able to grab him by the wrist and pull him down for a reassuring kiss certainly helped matters.

"Quit freaking out," he muttered, tugging Sanji closer to stand between his legs from where Zoro sat on his bed, balling up remaining clothes that he was supposed to be neatly folding and tossing them into an open suitcase beside him.

Sanji growled in Zoro's face, pushing him back stubbornly and storming over to his own bed where he'd been busy packing up his electronics.

"Don't tell me to quit freaking out, Zoro!" Sanji screeched over his shoulder, trying to assemble his thoughts after that kiss, fingers furiously wrapping up charger cords and securing them with rubber bands. "They could send you to a horrible place! They could chain you up to a post and not feed you for days on end, or-"

"Well, jeez, why you gotta take it there?" Zoro muttered, irritably tossing a T-shirt into his suitcase and squishing it down with a hand to make it fit in the already stuffed space.

"Because, Zoro! If anything bad happens to you, how the hell am I gonna be able to live with myse-"

He trailed off suddenly, but Zoro merely rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please, Curly. I knew what I was doing. I did this so you'd be okay, and you will be so I'll be fine, knowing that. So quit - oi, are you even listening?"

Zoro stopped, noticing how the fight seemed to have drained from the blond, how his shoulders had slumped and his head had dropped, back still facing him.

For a second, Zoro was irritated at being ignored...until he realized that wasn't so.

Sanji was holding something in his hand, staring down at it, fixated, and it was strange enough that Zoro got to his feet and crossed the room to Sanji where he peered over his shoulder.

Sanji's breaths came lightly because, in his hands, he held a game case that he'd never seen before. And yet, it was entirely familiar because there, on the cover, was an illustration of himself, or rather, the Prince, dressed regally all in white, a bejeweled crown of delicate silver nestled in his longer hair.

A breathtaking sunset was behind him, as was his castle atop the high sea cliff, but he stood, ocean waves lapping at his feet, looking back over his shoulder with a hand outstretched for his knight, dressed in his finest polished armor, pristine swords at his hip, and his hand reaching right back for the prince.

The bright oranges and pinks of the sky were nearly as brilliant as their smiles.

Sanji ran his thumb over the case that had always been blank since he'd bought it, a lump suddenly forming in his throat before he felt a nudge to his side and turned to see Zoro with his hand waiting expectantly.

"Let's go for a walk," he said with a gentle smirk, jerking his head towards the door.

Sanji held his gaze and found himself nodding, carefully setting the game case down with his other belongings and taking Zoro's hand.

They'd promised Robin they'd be back soon, that they weren't running away from all this, the two of them stuttering and blushing madly when she reminded them that elopement wasn't legal until eighteen.

Zoro had dragged Sanji the hell out of there before the idiot could stammer his way into an embarrassed ditch.

And so they'd made their way from the house on foot, fingers loosely linked as they walked the street down to the beach, for what was probably the last time, the sunset bleeding warmly into the lingering blue, pink clouds like Chopper's favorite cotton candy strewn about in long puffy strips.

Zoro's old sneakers scuffed and Sanji's sandals slapped against the warm pavement, the breeze salty, buzzing with dragonflies that hovered by and the ever present call of seagulls near the water.

They were quiet, though Zoro could hear Sanji taking in deep breaths through his nose now and again, most likely relishing in the calm of their peaceful neighborhood, yet to fill completely with the tourists who made these houses their homes during the summer months.

They smelled barbecue somewhere in the distance, heard voices and the sound of a dog barking, but other than that, there was nothing but Sanji's dramatic breaths, something that Zoro teasingly imitated loudly, looking Sanji's way just to make sure he'd annoyed him.

Sanji scowled at him, but didn't release his hand.

Neither were entirely sure where they were headed, until they stopped on a private stretch of sand, the pier in sight down the beach, now populated by fishermen and vacationing families enjoying ice cream, the outdoor restaurants nearby humming with conversation and summery classic rock.

But the two of them stayed away from the crowds, both kicking off shoes and carrying them along as soon as they hit sand. They moved to the surf's edge where walking was easier, and Zoro plopped down, Sanji's fingers sliding from his as the blond continued towards the water to stand ankle deep in the waves, the wind softly taking his hair, and his gaze fixed firmly on the horizon where the sun dipped ever lower.

Zoro was content to watch him for a minute before he leaned back and stretched out, elbows sinking into the warm sand and his chest lifting with a meditative breath as he dropped his head back and closed his eyes.

He didn't open them until he heard the soft squeak of Sanji's feet compressing in the loose sand some minutes later and he looked over to see Sanji lowering himself to sit beside him, for once seemingly not caring if he got his shorts sandy.

Zoro pushed up to sit as well, quirking a brow when Sanji lifted a hand to brush fingers through the mosshead's hair, muttering about sand as he shook some of it loose.

"Does your grandpa live by the sea?" Zoro asked once Sanji seemed satisfied that his hair was in order. Sanji loved the ocean, Zoro knew. He'd be happier if he was near it.

"Yeah. He lives on the coast," Sanji replied with a sigh, dropping his hand back to his lap and turning his gaze towards the sparkling ocean once more. This wasn't the last time he'd be seeing it, but there would certainly be something different at his grandpa's, less like home….

"That's good," Zoro murmured beside him, in the slightly awkward tone Sanji recognized as the one he used when he didn't have any other response.

Sanji looked at him, noted his clenched jaw, the way his eyes flicked to Sanji's hand now and again, almost uncertain.

The cook had noticed him fall into these strange nervous bouts for the past few days, even though things had gone about as well as they could have between the two of them, on the romantic front. They hadn't talked about anything in depth, just accepted that there was something strangely magnetizing between them, accepted that it did sometimes make them pursue physical affection, however innocent.

They had moments of confidence, but also moments of hesitance, both unsure how far to go, what to even do when they were well aware they'd be forced to part in a few days' time.

Sanji didn't want that. He didn't want things to end awkwardly, and he figured Zoro didn't either, but he could tell the other teen was treading carefully, most likely for Sanji's sake.

But Zoro's comfort and happiness, Sanji found, concerned him more than his own confusion and uncertainty, more than his own inner battle to accept that the one creating these very real emotions within him was a guy, even though he'd been trying hard to convince himself gender didn't matter.

It didn't. The rational part of him knew that. And the more he was with Zoro, the more comfortable he felt with embracing this. He cared about Zoro for who he was inside, first and foremost.

"It wasn't…'cause I didn't feel anything, you know, that I waited…" Sanji murmured, holding Zoro's gaze when the mosshead turned to look at him with mild surprise. He let Zoro's bewildered state fuel his conviction. "It was 'cause I did….I do….and….it was like you said the other night. It was scary."

Zoro's surprise simmered into a smirk, and he inched his hand a little closer to Sanji's leg, jabbing holes in the sand with a finger absently.

"So what changed…?" he asked, trying to keep the amusement from his voice lest he stop Sanji from answering.

Thankfully, Sanji seemed to be in a reflective mood, now watching the lick of the waves against the sand, the frothy bubbles left in their wake.

"That's the weird part," he replied, and Zoro was pleased to see a smirk pull at Sanji's lips too. "Nothing changed. It was just like….through all of this….I finally….woke up."

Zoro couldn't help a loud snort, one that tapered into snickers quickly.

"That sounds so cheesy," he teased, feeling his chest clench pleasantly when Sanji actually laughed too.

"Yeah, it does," the blond admitted, running a hand back through his hair and rolling his eyes good-naturedly. He lowered his hand to the sand then, along with his gaze, tracing circles there, closer and closer to Zoro's hand.

"The thought of - of me being with a guy is - is still fucking weird for me to picture," Sanji mused as he traced, eyes on Zoro's fingers until the mosshead walked them over to brush Sanji's. "But….it's not guys. It's….you. And if I think about you instead, then...somehow it's not so bad…"

Zoro slid his hand fully over Sanji's then and squeezed, ducking his head to grin cheekily in his face.

"So m'special," he deduced haughtily.

"I never said that," Sanji countered quickly.

"Bet you were thinkin' it though."

"Shut up. You're just glad you're not the only one thinking this sappy shit now."

"So you were thinkin' it," Zoro concluded with a smug quirk of an eyebrow and a sidelong glance.

Sanji grumbled automatically, but it was mostly to conceal how glad he was that he wasn't alone.

Zoro was on this stupidly sentimental ride with him. If it had been anyone else, it would have been too embarrassing to handle. But considering Zoro was one of the most prideful people he knew, and he'd fallen just as hard? Well, that certainly made things a little easier to stomach.

Particularly when Zoro seemed to lose track of himself, like he was now, eyes on Sanji for far longer than normal, long enough for Sanji to wrinkle his nose and stick his tongue out, just to remind the dumb mosshead he was staring before he drooled all over.

Zoro frowned self-consciously and glared at the amused blond.

"Do you think they'll let us keep our phones?" Sanji asked, stretching out a leg in front of him as Zoro gently explored his hand with his fingertips. The cook let out a bitter laugh as he realized, "I never even added your number."

Zoro huffed a breath and shrugged, realizing how damn pathetic that fact was now that everything had changed between them.

Sanji continued to mutter to himself about getting Zoro a Skype account, that as long as Zoro at least had access to a computer, they'd be able to talk.

But Zoro knew it wouldn't be the same as being with him, as being in his presence and feeling every amazing thing Sanji made him feel firsthand.

Not to mention, if they were physically apart….he worried everything Sanji was beginning to feel for him would be forgotten….or replaced.

"Maybe we can - I dunno-" Zoro muttered once Sanji trailed off with his jabbering. "Find each other after we graduate or something…" He paused, however, brow furrowing and gaze dropping to the sand. "You'll probably….go to college though, huh...and by then, you might not even…"

But Sanji's heart leaped into his throat the second Zoro's tone fell.

Yes, what he was feeling for Zoro was entirely new, and the time they'd shared with that realization had been terribly short. But the feelings were powerful, and considering how the last week had gone, all of them taking over his mind, Sanji couldn't imagine they would fade any time soon.

"Hey," he said forcefully, waiting until Zoro looked up hesitantly. Then, he was adamant.

"I'll find you," Sanji assured, and he managed a little smirk, even if his heart had begun to hurt immensely with all this talk of their separation. "You'll just get lost looking for me."

"Shut up…" Zoro mumbled in response, though he gave a small smile. There was no telling what the future held, but for now, he'd have to trust in Sanji's word.

Sanji sighed beside him, then pulled his hand out from beneath Zoro's and carefully scooted closer to him on the sand until their sides were flush and he could shyly lean his weight against him. Initiating physical contact himself was still a bit daunting, especially when his emotions weren't quite so heightened and insecurities began to flare up.

"Can we just...pretend this isn't happening….just for now…?" he murmured, tilting his lips and chin gently into Zoro's shoulder.

"Yeah….yeah…." Zoro breathed in reply.

The two fell quiet then, Sanji relaxing into Zoro as the minutes passed, particularly when Zoro's hand rose to his hair, lips turning there a second later. Sanji let arms lift to circle Zoro's torso, squeezing with more confidence the longer they sat.

They watched the water and the sunset, fear burgeoning in their hearts because that sunset symbolized the end of everything they'd come to know. The brighter the colors became as the sun sank ever lower, the more their moods dimmed.

It was stupid because it was something they'd always wanted, to leave this place, to go somewhere they belonged, a stable, forever home.

But that was proving to be far more difficult to do when they'd be leaving everything they loved.

It wasn't quite apparent when it had started, but eventually, wetness began to soak Zoro's T-shirt, Sanji's body giving a shudder. He was so fucking done crying over this shit, but he couldn't help it.

He would be fine.

Zoro was the one he was worried about.

Zoro. Whose hand circled Sanji's head more protectively, his body turning to pull Sanji properly against his chest, pressing his own forehead into his hair to hide the tears springing to his own eyes.

"Zoro…." Sanji's voice trembled, and he sucked in a few quick breaths to try and compose himself, rather futilely.

"Yeah, Sanji…" Zoro replied, nearly whispering.

Sanji's fingers gripped the back of his T-shirt, pressed palms there a second later to feel Zoro's broad form properly, strong and solid.

"Tomorrow," he choked out, clenching his teeth. "Don't say goodbye to me…"

Zoro pulled back, enough that he could tilt Sanji's chin up and look him in the eye.

"Never…" he said fiercely, then leaned in to kiss him, closed but firm.

Sanji responded instantly, lips pressing back with fervor, hands lifting to grab Zoro's face.

How could they say goodbye when they'd only just said hello…?

"Front seat's all yours, Zoro."

Ms. Makino, the same social worker who'd come to escort Luffy from Sunny, was standing by her forest green SUV parked in Sunny's driveway, back seat loaded with Zoro's two suitcases of belongings, meager compared to his friends, but they held everything he needed. Mostly...

The sun was already hot that next morning, and the glare glinting off the passenger door was strong when she opened it for him.

He stared at the car, the vessel that would take him away from this place into unknown territory. Then he shifted his gaze solemnly to the red sedan parked beside it, the trunk of which was open as Sanji and his grandpa packed in the last of Sanji's things as well, Zeff's gruff voice grumbling orders, directing the teen on where to fit the boxes.

As they'd feared, he and Sanji had been forced to turn in their phones, considering Robin had paid for them out of pocket, and she was no longer their caretaker. Sanji could get a new one easily with his grandpa. Zoro had no idea if he could.

Thus, his eyes were dry, but his throat was tight. Despite how much he willed it to slow, his heart still pounded hard and fast in his chest in mere anticipation over what this day would bring.

"If you'd like to say goodbye, I'll give you a minute," Ms. Makino murmured gently with a kind upturn of lips, and then Robin's arms were around his shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace the likes of which she usually spared him from. But that day was different, and he sighed, letting the moment happen, his arms circling her waist.

"I'll be fine," he found himself murmuring to her when she pulled back to press a kiss to his cheek, a mere turn of her head sufficient for that as he was nearly her height now.

"You will," she replied, caressing the back of his head fondly, blue eyes watery. She lowered her voice then so she wouldn't be overheard. "But please e-mail me if you can. So I can be certain."

He nodded seriously. She pulled his head down for one last kiss to his forehead. Then he turned to trudge resolutely down the walkway.

Sanji and his grandpa had closed the trunk to their car, both circling around to the side of the driveway where Robin stood. Zoro walked past, making his way to Makino's car.

The woman had moved to the driver's side, but she noticed Zoro's bypass of the young blond, enough that she jolted a little and stammered.

"I can wait, Zoro, if-"

He did stop, just before sliding into the passenger seat. He turned his head and locked eyes with Sanji, who was watching him, expressionless.

Zoro stared at him, memorizing how he looked in that moment, how sun-bleached his hair was becoming, those blue eyes that had come to understand him better than anyone else, his lips….all things he would never forget, no matter how much time passed until they next met.

He should have been looking at the house, taking it in too, the place that had been the first true home he'd ever had.

But without the people, his family, it held only echoes.

"It's okay," he said, in answer to Makino, but the statement was directed at Sanji, who understood the reassurance immediately, nodding in return.

In that moment, there were no words, only the strength in Zoro's steely eyes, the rise and fall of his chest in calm, measured breaths, and the trust Sanji had decided to place in him, in the universe, that what he said would be true.

Sanji stood there on the front lawn, watched Zoro climb into Ms. Makino's car, watched them pull out of Sunny's driveway and cruise off down the street and out of his life.

And shortly after, he watched Robin lock the house with finality, get into her own car as he and his grandpa got into theirs.

Both cars went separate ways, Zeff giving a quick honk of his horn in farewell to Robin.

Sanji leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes, actively trying to keep Zoro's face there in his mind.

Ms. Makino's car was quiet, save for the radio playing softly, and the silence was heavy and awkward. She was one of the nicest social workers Zoro had ever encountered, but it was still tense, and he knew she could feel it as well, judging by the way she repeatedly turned her head to look at him as they drove off down the block, putting Sunny behind them.

Eventually, she sighed softly.

"I'm sorry for the secrecy, Zoro," she said, and tried to smile, hands twisting a little anxiously on the steering wheel. "But there was actually some debate about where to place you. We had to scramble a bit because of the late notice. You were almost moved out of state. I'm sure it was stressful, not knowing."

"S'fine," Zoro mumbled, not really in the mood to chat, even if the weird silence continued to stretch on as a result. He didn't know where they were going, and at this point, he didn't care.

His gaze stayed firmly out the window as they drove through the familiar neighborhood, the colorful beach houses passing by. There were more cars, now that summer had arrived.

Makino braked after a few more blocks, putting on her turn signal and waiting for a line of traffic to pass in the opposite lane.

"Well, Mr. Mihawk has only just been approved for foster care," she said, cranking the steering wheel and bearing left onto an adjacent street once the path was clear. "His paperwork was finalized only a few days ago, in fact."

This street was quieter, further back from the ocean, most of the homeowners not yet returned, evident by the taller grass and overgrown hedges in front of some. Makino slowed the car, checking the street signs, then leaning forward to try and get a look at the house numbers and name placards as they rolled along.

Zoro looked over at her curiously, wondering if she was fucking lost already, but he said nothing.

"Okay, I think this is right," she mumbled, more to herself before flashing a smile at him. "But anyway, because he lives so close and the timing was right, we felt it would be an easier adjustment on you, living with him."

Zoro's eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Be on the lookout on your right," she continued. "For a house called-"

Then his eyes sprang wide.

"Wait!" he interrupted loudly. "So I'm not leaving Logue Town?"

She chuckled, still scanning houses.

"We weren't sure at first," she replied distractedly. "But like I said, these accommodations just became available-"

"Turn around."

Next, it was her eyes that widened, eyebrows shooting up with them in surprise.

"What?" she stammered.

"Turn around!" he insisted almost frantically. "I forgot something!" And when she didn't react right away, he nearly shouted, "Do it! Please-!"

He was practically pleading now. He had to tell Sanji. It didn't matter how this home turned out to be. Just the fact that he could know where to find him!

Makino had slowed the car nearly to a stop, still looking at him with some degree of alarm. She stared at him for a long moment, but eventually tried to smile, nodding.

"Alright," she conceded, then turned the wheel to make a three-point turn on the empty street.

But Sanji had gone. Both Robin's and Zeff's cars had already left Sunny, and Zoro had to actively remind himself not to punch the dashboard, not to curse while in the car of a social worker.

He'd merely clenched teeth, run hands over his face, and inwardly hated himself for losing his composure when he'd tried so hard all morning to keep it.

Thus, the car had fallen back into tense silence after Makino's concerned apologies, after they started driving again and found themselves on that same familiar road not ten minutes from Sunny. Makino scanned the houses, but Zoro didn't look, just stared dejectedly at his lap until she finally pulled the car into a driveway and parked.

Only then did Zoro look up, unable to keep the surprise from his face because he recognized the place specifically.

It was that strange black house, high up on stilts, which Zoro had noted had the cool name scrawled on the hanging placard, 'Coffin Boat,' where, a few weeks ago, Luffy had found the caterpillar.

There was an old vintage sedan already parked in the driveway beneath the house, long and also black, looking more like a hearse than a passenger car, next to a more modern-looking Audi, and before they'd even gotten out, Zoro noticed the front door open, up the dark wooden stairs, a tall figure stepping out onto the front deck above.

It was a man, Zoro saw as he peered up through the car window, a man with jet black hair combed back, neatly trimmed facial hair and a white high-collared shirt that gave him the appearance of an old-time painting as he stared down from the deck with a strangely piercing gaze.

Zoro found himself staring right back as Makino shut off the car and he slowly opened his door, watching the man the entire time. The man didn't move, didn't greet them, and in fact, his presence seemed to make Makino nervous, the woman hastily fumbling to take up her clipboard and help Zoro get his suitcases from the back.

Even as the two of them climbed the stairs to the front deck, Zoro able to carry both his suitcases easily, her voice stammered, introducing the man to Zoro as Mr. Mihawk, shaking his hand flimsily and making her way through the formalities with far more haste than she had at Sunny.

And yet, Zoro didn't back down, just watched this man who was to be his caretaker, nodding when necessary and reaching out first to shake his hand, holding it there in the space between them, almost in challenge.

Mihawk's eyes didn't leave his as he took Zoro's hand, and it should have been intimidating. But in fact it was oddly calming, distracting at least from the pain of parting with Sanji that morning.

It focused Zoro somehow, enough that he wasn't quite as worried when Makino eventually left, when it was just him and Mihawk, the man leading him through the front door into the house.

It opened upon a large room that took up most of the one-story house, the kitchen in the back separated from the sitting area only by a dark granite counter topped with burning candles that Zoro smelled right away. The walls were painted a thick crimson, and the curtains were heavy and black. The leather furniture, also black, circled around a coffee table, but there was not a TV in sight, and the artwork on the walls was peculiar, oil paintings of night skies in gilded antique frames.

The interior was hardly beachy, more gothic if anything, nothing like Zoro would have expected from a house so close to the ocean.

Zoro noted the closed doors along the wall to the right, but before he could wonder which was his bedroom, Mihawk shut the front door behind him and began walking across the room with an absent gesture.

"Leave your things," he said, voice smooth and serious, with a hint of a pompous foreign accent. "You can unpack them later. For the moment, please follow me."

Zoro's brows furrowed, but he had no choice but to obey, tentatively leaving his suitcases by the door and stepping across the rich mahogany of the hardwood floors after the man.

Mihawk led him into the last room, his own personal bedroom by the looks of it, a massively majestic four-poster bed situated in the middle, the walls there a charcoal gray, the furniture following suit in various tones of black.

Zoro stopped in the doorway, a little unsure, but Mihawk entered with purpose, moving to a large wooden chest at the foot of his bed, which he unlatched and opened, the top flopping back onto the mattress behind.

Mihawk reached in, moving aside a strange tri-cornered hat with a giant fluffy white-green feather attached before he stopped.

His hands hovered for a moment, until, to Zoro's surprise, he pulled out a first generation Game Boy, its gray boxy shape ridiculously chunky in his ringed hands, compared to the thinness of Sanji's 3DS.

Something about the sight set Zoro's heart right back to pounding in his chest, particularly when the man pulled a game cartridge from the back, holding it up for Zoro to see that it had no label or title whatsoever. To him, it looked blank.

"Does this seem at all familiar to you?" he asked, quirking a brow expectantly.

Zoro swallowed hard, with nothing else to do but nod.

"You...had the last game. You've gotta be shitting me…" Zoro muttered, leaning forward heavily onto his knees and rubbing fingers at his temples.

They'd moved to the living room, the Game Boy on the coffee table between them and the air ripe with unanswered questions.

Mihawk, seated in his arm chair, crossed one leg casually over the other, swirling his glass of red wine and taking a delicate sip. His expression tensed, the man seeming ruffled by Zoro's coarse language, but he said nothing against it.

"Indeed I did," he replied. "I found it at the very same shop you did. Of course, the adjoining café was a donut shop then….and the man who sold me the game had a rather peculiar smile…"

Zoro squeezed his eyes shut, tuning out most of Mihawk's superfluous details because, more importantly, it had all been real, not only Sanji's game, but perhaps the legend itself, if there really had been several incarnations of the game. And Zoro had to believe that was true considering, in the half hour since they'd met, Mihawk did not seem the type to readily spout fairy tales.

"Just-" Zoro stammered, eventually sitting back on the couch and turning to look at the man. "How the fuck did you know we had it too?"

Mihawk leveled Zoro with an unimpressed stare, eyes calculating, and yes, judging, silently.

"I was on my way for a coffee several weeks ago at the Mermaid Café when I overheard you and your little friend's juvenile argument in the parking lot," the man explained, lips turning up in the first hint of a smile he'd given when Zoro's eyes narrowed. "My interest was piqued. I was aware of the Thousand Sunny home up the road. So I did a bit of research into your situation."

"You stalked a bunch of kids?" Zoro scoffed. "You a creep or somethin'?"

Mihawk's smirk instantly slipped back into a frown.

"You, child, are not in a position to be criticizing me when I have voluntarily offered to take you under my wing."

Zoro rolled his eyes and looked away, falling into a sulk.

"Doesn't make you a good person automatically…."

Mihawk ignored his tone and fell quiet, drinking his wine in silence with no further explanation.

And the silence went on long enough, left Zoro with far too many lingering curiosities, that the teen huffed an impatient breath, eventually looking insistently to Mihawk again.

"So….what happened to you with that?" he pressed, jerking his chin towards the Game Boy.

Mihawk's eyes fell to the device, though he took his time replying, staring at it for several long moments, as if lost in memory, before finally answering.

"Believe it or not, I was in a similar situation when I was young," he said, not taking his eyes from the Game Boy. "I was in a foster home with two other boys. One you may even know. Shanks? The vagabond fisherman who was your previous caretaker? To be honest, I'm not sure how you survived under his care..."

"No shit!" Zoro squawked in surprise. "You knew Shanks?"

"Far too well," Mihawk muttered, though his tone was laced with an underlying fondness that Zoro recognized entirely. It was the same tone Sanji used with him when he was annoyed.

He sighed, trying to keep his mind in the present, keep from slipping into pining thoughts so damn soon. Instead, he focused on Mihawk's tale. If Mihawk was the owner of that game, then it must have meant...

"So you….helped them?" Zoro asked slowly.

Mihawk nodded.

"To make a long story short, yes."

"And what about you?" was Zoro's next question.

The man shrugged gracefully.

"As you can imagine, nothing happened after I finished the game," he stated simply, without a trace of regret nor pain at the memory. "I will spare you the details, but I remained in a group home until I came of age. Much as I imagine you would have had I not stepped in."

For a moment, Zoro's chest clenched. This man knew everything, had been there at the exact right place and time to hear his and Sanji's argument about which of them would be the last remaining.

And that was strange. Zoro felt exposed, somehow, for something that, until then had been a very personal decision. Helping Sanji had been a no-brainer, but to think about what could have happened to either of them...what could still happen to him….it was scarier than he wanted to admit.

"Yeah, but….the game wasn't mine…" Zoro mumbled eventually, for lack of anything better to say. "It was - my - friend's….I found it, but….he bought it. And I - killed him in the game. I didn't want him to be stuck."

Mihawk seemed to regard this for a moment, the only hint of surprise on his features the slight quirk of an angular brow.

"How noble of you," he mused. "Perhaps that is why good fortune has found you as well."

Again, Zoro had to scoff, looking around at his surroundings, which looked more like a medieval dungeon than anything.

"You sayin' it's good fortune to live with you?" he muttered, the words slipping out before he could stop himself. He was supposed to be making a good impression here, but dammit, he couldn't help but be cynical.

"The backyard is always an option…" Mihawk replied easily from behind his wine glass.

Zoro rolled his eyes, huffing out a breath and picking at his jeans, unsure of what to do when everything he'd even bothered to expect was quickly being turned on its head.

He'd thought he'd end up at some random family's house an hour away, a family with kids of their own and too-perfect lives. A family that wouldn't be able to handle his brooding introversion, wouldn't get his sense of humor or his personality and eventually send him away to the next. He wouldn't see his friends again. Not for a long time at least. And that was how it should have gone.

But now…

As fucking weird as it was to realize, even in this dimly lit vampiric house, paired with this weird old-fashioned guy who didn't seem to have any modern technology in sight….there was a glimmer of hope returning to Zoro, slowly but surely.

And it was enough that, a minute later, he tentatively wondered aloud, "Did you ever see them again? Shanks. And the other guy."

Mihawk had seemed perfectly okay with the silence. In fact, Zoro's words seemed to draw him out from deep introspection, to his mild irritation.

Still, he answered.

"Not for many years, but yes. I can't imagine it will be as difficult for you, given the age we now live in. I will help you procure a new phone-"

Zoro couldn't help it. His face lit up in a way it hadn't all day, that niggling hope beginning to spread, flutter in his chest stupidly. He knew Sanji's grandpa would get him a new phone. This assured they could talk! They could fucking find each other!

"Eventually," Mihawk emphasized. "I would like you to earn it. And assist with payments."

"Eventually?" Zoro screeched in a childish whine, hopes effectively crushed. Dammit, he needed to talk to Sanji now! "What the hell does that mean? I don't have a job. And I need that fucking phone!"

"Then you'll be extremely motivated," Mihawk replied, seemingly unperturbed by Zoro's outburst, downing the rest of his wine as nonchalantly as could be.

"For what?" Zoro balked.

Mihawk's eyes flicked to Zoro's T-shirt, the pair of crossed swords on the front beneath a logo for the National Kendo Federation. Franky had picked it up for him at a biker convention a few months back.

The man smirked.

"I have something in mind I think you may enjoy."

Three months later…

The start of the school year was always a pain in the ass for Zoro. Maybe not much changed year to year, but it had always been a pain to feel out new teachers, figure out if he could get away with sleeping through their classes or not. New classrooms that liked to change location randomly. New classmates that he didn't always care to learn the names of.

There had always been a constant though.

His friends. His best friends, most of whom had attended his high school and motivated him to go every day, even if studying gave him great difficulty, at least studying anything he held no interest in….which was most things…

Still, he'd thought, after three months adjusting to a new home, a new life, that maybe going back to school would be a welcome respite. At the very least, the building was familiar.

But of course that had been a misguided thought.

The first morning of school had started strangely, with a trip to the social services office, because the school had needed proof of Mihawk's guardianship, a reminder that, yes, things were different, and yes, he now lived with a creepy weirdo who somehow gave him something to strive for, to get better at, for all his quirks.

And he was a little glad no one was around to see Mihawk's grand hearse roar up to the curb when his guardian dropped him off afterwards, at the end of first period.

Zoro had slammed the door shut with the usual scowl, receiving the typical loud harumph from Mihawk in turn. It was a wonder they were both content with each other.

Then he'd shuffled his way to the office to deliver the necessary paperwork, somehow found his locker, and picked up his schedule from the guidance counselor.

It was more painful than Zoro expected, to walk through the school, his only consolation the thought of finally seeing Usopp again.

Finding his friend's new apartment had been impossible without a phone, after all, and he'd sure as hell fucking tried one day, ultimately riding halfway around the city on his skateboard before giving up for the time being.

Summer vacation had thus been long, and ultimately lonely.

So he'd thrown himself headfirst into his new guardian's mastercraft, which just so happened to be fucking kendo of all things. Kendo, Zoro's talent for which had been quickly snuffed out as a child when his foster sister died and he'd been wrenched from Koshiro's home after only a month of lessons.

It came back quickly though, perhaps more quickly than Mihawk expected, something that Zoro smugly realized seemed to disgruntle the weird guy entirely when he rose through the ranks faster than any of the man's other pupils.

But Zoro had a purpose for his advancement, other than his rekindled passion, and that was Sanji. It was always Sanji. All summer it had been Sanji.

After all, Mihawk was withholding his smartphone, as motivation for his training, until he reached sho-dan level, something he was on track to do in the coming weeks.

A shitty tactic, but dammit, it had worked. That phone was his connection to his friends, but most of all, to Sanji, and if he advanced far enough, then the phone was his, and he could finally find him again, even if it was just online.

His desperation had grown though, with every fucking day. Every day, Zoro had thought about the blond, about how pissed he'd be that Zoro had ignored him, how his face would look, lips pulled back in that vicious snarl that was menacing, but also incredibly attractive.

He fucking missed him, enough that it kept him from sleep, the first few nights at Mihawk's house spent lying awake and staring across his new bedroom where a dresser now stood instead of Sanji's bed.

He'd tried to let it go, to push the blond out of his mind, but, ever the stubborn bastard, there Sanji stayed. He wouldn't leave, and Zoro had begun to think maybe not even internet could solve his problems.

Sanji had been a constant presence in his life, his real life, the one he hadn't started living until he'd come to Sunny. The one where he could be himself, be happy and secure. Sanji had been there, and even if their relationship had grown from rocky beginnings, having Sanji by his side had always been a reassurance.

And now there was nothing where he should have been.

Maybe he'd accepted that their separation was what needed to happen in order to improve Sanji's life.

But Zoro realized, as he'd walked through the school halls again, through the throngs of carefully planned back-to-school outfits and the tittering conversations and gossip already circulating, that he didn't like feeling this alone.

He missed having Luffy pop out of nowhere to hang off his shoulders through the hall. He (somehow) missed exchanging eye rolls with Nami when they passed each other.

And, even if it had only been a recent addition to his life, he missed having Sanji waiting for him at his locker, walking with him to class so he "wouldn't get lost," and he knew he'd miss him at lunch especially, when he'd done nothing but complain about the quality of the cafeteria food like a pretentious dick.

He missed his best friend, his…...his…..

He didn't know what he and Sanji were.

But he missed the one person who had made him feel every stupidly good thing he'd never thought himself capable of feeling.

Thus, Zoro walked into his auditorium study hall, five minutes late, with a bleak feeling in his chest, remembering all the times he and Sanji had shared in this room while Mr. Kuzan slept, playing on their phones when they weren't supposed to, Sanji trying to help him with his homework before it divulged into whispered insults hurled back and forth.

But he couldn't think about that, because even though everything else was similar, even if Mr. Kuzan was already positioned in his chair by the stage, a notebook and pencil spread out on the folding table before him, it was different.

His classmates were already seated, scattered among the rows of the cavernous room, murmured voices and snickers heard as they tried and failed to remain quiet.

He couldn't see Usopp's head anywhere, a disappointment, but ultimately unsurprising. He knew his younger friend preferred to pack his schedule with classes every period.

So he moved towards a quiet back corner, away from most of the other students, hoping Mr. Kuzan wouldn't descend upon him for being late.

He slunk over, as inconspicuous as possible, about to slide into the last row when a figure came into view, already sitting in the last seat by the wall, slumped down with his knees propped against the seat in front of him, scribbling patterns into his notebook and looking utterly miserable.

Zoro stopped short in the aisle, his mouth going dry and his heart skipping several beats.

He stared at that figure, who seemed to mirror his own feelings of the day so well, his brow drawn tight, anxious energy driving his doodling hand to swirl faster, his design nothing but a whirlwind of frustration.

Zoro's voice didn't sound like his own when he finally spoke. It sounded small and breathless, and yet hopeful for something he hadn't dared consider….the thought that maybe the one he'd been yearning for all summer hadn't left his life as he'd assumed.

"Sanji?"

The blond froze, his mechanical pencil, which had been gliding smoothly along the margin of his notebook, instantly slipping from his grasp and rolling into his stomach.

Sanji didn't look at him for a long moment, merely stared straight ahead at the stage on the opposite end of the room, and Zoro could see his breathing become just as light and shaky.

But then he turned his head slowly.

Their eyes met, and the room disappeared. The soft murmurings of their classmates faded to nothing, and they were suddenly the only ones there, Zoro's heart in his throat as it hadn't been since they'd parted months ago.

Neither of them reacted for several seconds, unable to do much besides remember how to breathe.

Until they both moved at once, Sanji sitting up, his pencil sliding onto the floor with a soft clatter, forgotten, and Zoro practically teleporting the several strides into the aisle where he fell clumsily into the seat next to Sanji, his eyes on the blond the whole time.

Hands found each other's arms, holding on for dear life.

"What are you doing here?!" Sanji hissed with disbelief, struggling not to shout the damn question given where they were.

"What are you doing here?!" Zoro shot back. "I thought you moved!"

"I-I did, but-" Sanji stammered, his mind spinning and struggling to make sense of the very solid ball of moss in his grasp. Zoro was fine. He was here. "But I came back to live with my sister because I wanted - I thought - I dunno, I thought maybe Usopp and I could look for you or-" He shook his head, too eager to hear Zoro's voice again. "But - you're still here? You weren't in homeroom! How-? Do you-?"

It was no use. Proper sentences wouldn't form, not when Zoro's hands were scrambling up his arms, over his shoulders to find his jaw, his hair.

"I live right down the fucking street from Sunny!" Zoro exclaimed frantically, as if Sanji would disappear should he not get the words out quick enough. "I-I had to go to social services this morning. Mihawk had to sign some stuff and-"

"Mihawk?" Sanji interrupted, fingers twisting unconsciously in Zoro's T-shirt sleeves, pulling him closer as his eyes roved over Zoro's face. "Wait, are you - you've been in Logue Town? You're staying?"

Zoro nodded, almost comically fast, and considering he'd wanted to share this news with Sanji for months now, it was almost a relief to do so.

Sanji let out a whimpering breath of disbelief. And then he couldn't take it.

A quick glance around the auditorium, at the backs of their classmates' heads several rows in front of them, at Mr. Kuzan dozing by the stage….

Then he threw his notebook on the floor, slid off his chair onto the floor himself, and pulled Zoro down behind the seats to slam lips to his forcefully.

The kiss was awkward, hardly suave and smooth like Sanji had always wanted to be, but neither of them seemed to care. Even though their noses bumped, even though teeth clacked, and Zoro's hand shot out to save himself from knocking the blond completely back onto the rough carpet, it didn't matter. Their excitement and relief was far too great for self-consciousness.

Fuck all that. Fuck where they were, how this had happened. They were together, even if lips pressed frantically, hands groped clumsily, and inexperience showed.

The moment ended with foreheads pressed together, both of them huddled on the floor, heavy breaths panting over each other's lips.

"Why didn't you message me…?" Sanji huffed, hands in Zoro's hair, playing with his earrings, voice barely above a whisper. "I messaged you so many fucking times. I thought - I didn't know where they took you, and I was so fucking…."

He trailed off, but Zoro answered him immediately, reassured him.

"I'm sorry. I'm okay," he breathed, a giddy smile tugging at his lips and his nose tilting into Sanji's, content to revel in the fact that Sanji had initiated all this, that nothing had changed.

"Did you forget how to install apps?" the blond asked desperately, searching Zoro's eyes. "Did they move you to a fucking jail cell? What happened…?"

Zoro shook his head, letting his fingers curl in the bottom of Sanji's sweater, knuckles brushing shyly at the bare skin of his sides now and again.

"Mihawk won't let me get a phone until I master the first seven kata. M'real close though."

"Kata….? Mosshead, you're making zero sense."

"Kendo," he clarified, snickering when Sanji continued to look baffled. "Swords?"

The blond let out a breath at that, couldn't help but smile a bit before he also shook his head, then slid arms around Zoro's shoulders to hug him close without a care.

Zoro reciprocated, his arms shifting to secure Sanji's torso firmly, tilting his head to press his face into blond strands as the cook buried his against Zoro's shoulder.

They stayed like that for a while, yet undiscovered between the seats, and when Zoro felt the wetness of tears against his shirt, he said nothing because there was a huge-ass lump in his own throat and there was nothing to say.

They simply held each other until Sanji started to pull away first, clinging to Zoro with one hand, but wiping at his eyes with the other.

Zoro lifted a hand automatically, bringing it to the young cook's face to help him, and Sanji let him, though he rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh through his embarrassment.

He brought his sweater sleeve to Zoro's cheek for good measure, even though the tears in Zoro's eyes had yet to spill.

Sanji sat back then, relaxed a bit and slumped against the wood of the seat in front of him, and Zoro did the same, leaning a shoulder there and watching the blond. He couldn't quite comprehend fully how Sanji was back, but he chose to forget that for now, focus on the pleasant flutter of his heart, the feel of Sanji's fingers gently playing with his as they both took the moment to calm down.

"So you're happy…?" Sanji asked eventually. "You're really okay?"

Zoro nodded.

"Yeah. Other than….missin' you," he admitted with a slightly sheepish shrug. "Swear I've wanted to call you every fucking day..."

He was a little wary still, of Sanji's reaction to his absence. By all means, the blond should be pissed at him for going dark, even after they'd promised to stay in contact. He couldn't help it that Mihawk was an old-fashioned prick.

But Sanji fell into a relieved smile, because there were more important things on his mind.

Zoro's feelings were still there. He hadn't forgotten about him. And more importantly, Zoro was okay, despite everything the game had led them to worry about. He was safe, not trapped in some terrible situation, even if he was apparently living in medieval times without freaking technology. That would sure as hell have to change.

Sanji started to lean closer before he really planned it, but Zoro met him halfway, the second kiss far more gentle and controlled, innocent, but emotional, fears and frustrations falling away easily, as if they'd never been apart.

And yet, it was something Zoro couldn't quite lose himself in yet, not when it was still very apparent in his mind, just how fucking incredible it was that this was even happening in the first place.

Never in a million fucking years could he have foreseen this, foreseen Sanji's fingers gripping his short hair, the romantic slowness with which he rocked lips into Zoro's, enough that Zoro actually snickered and stopped, pulled back just when Sanji came at him again with puckered lips.

"Been practicing on your pillow, Curly?" he asked, chuckling, earning himself a hard pinch on his arm.

"Shut the fuck up!" Sanji screeched, though it came out as an offended whisper. A thump of his fist to Zoro's chest did nothing to erase the dumb mosshead's smirk.

"I just…" the blond said, then trailed off teasingly, flicking eyes back to Zoro.

Missed you too, was Sanji's thought, but he wouldn't be letting Zoro know that until he was ready to be properly sentimental.

Predictably, Zoro's brows immediately furrowed in confusion, the dense idiot unable to fill in the blanks.

"What?" he asked, but Sanji shrugged casually.

"Nothing."

"Seriously, what?" Just when he'd thought the blond would quit being such a damn enigma, to use a recently learned vocabulary word.

"You're stupid," Sanji said.

Zoro's jaw dropped.

"So are you!"

Sanji grinned, ecstatic that nothing had changed between them.

Instead of explaining himself, he opted for a subject change before Zoro alerted the entire auditorium to their secret floor meeting.

"How the fuck is this possible?" he asked, poking Zoro in the chest before smoothing down the fabric of his shirt absently, an excuse to touch him. "The game was - you were the last one left. I thought you'd be stuck somewhere awful."

At that, Zoro's sour expression quickly morphed into a grin, and he shifted closer into Sanji's space, wondering how close he could get before the blond either kissed him again or shoved him back.

"So did I, but…" he started, wondering how the fuck to explain everything Mihawk had told him.

Sanji's gaze had fallen to his lips. Not long now.

"'Member what the game store lady said?" Zoro continued. "We weren't the first ones to play it. And I doubt we'll be the last."

"So...?" Sanji breathed.

By that point, Zoro was but an inch from Sanji's lips, so he leaned in with a kiss anyway, not waiting for Sanji.

"I'll tell you later," Zoro said, and kissed him again.

Sanji rolled his eyes impatiently, but found himself distracted by Zoro's warmth, boldly but sincerely shifting lips to his jaw, just for a few moments before he pulled back to look at him.

Zoro met his gaze as he always had, Sanji realized, with a hopeless devotion laced with vulnerability, even now, and it spurred Sanji's hands up to his face, thumbs stroking over his skin. It was still rather amazing to Sanji that he himself was okay with this, this overturning of his assumed sexuality.

Girls had been one thing. But Zoro was something else entirely.

"I never thanked you, Zoro…." he found himself murmuring, loving the way Zoro's eyebrow quirked quizzically up close. "For giving me my family back..."

Immediately, Zoro's nose scrunched up and his lip curled.

"Don't. It's awkward," he grumbled, prompting Sanji to grin broadly.

"I-" the blond started again, just to tease.

"Don't!"

Sanji leaned in closer, jutted out his bottom lip in a pout.

"You're my hero-"

"Ugh, I hate it-" Zoro squawked, shoving Sanji back and bringing hands to his own head. "M'not a hero!"

"You are, and now you'll go down in legend as-!"

"Shut up! I'll fucking kill you, Curly!"

Sanji feigned a dramatic gasp. "Again? You'd do that for me? Zoro, I-"

And then his back hit the floor as Zoro leaped atop him in a tackle that had limbs flailing, knocking into chairs loudly, and bodies quickly scrambling to one-up the other.

By the time Mr. Kuzan appeared in the aisle, drawn over by the ruckus, Sanji had Zoro in a headlock, and it could have been for any old reason. It was well-known fact that the two liked to roughhouse.

They ended up separated, with three seats forcibly between them and the threat of being moved farther should they act up again.

Still, it didn't much matter, because both of them fell into snickers as Mr. Kuzan made his way back to his chair to sleep off the remaining half hour of the period.

Sanji curled up in his seat, turning his body towards Zoro, and the mosshead did the same, the two of them quiet, but enjoying the lingering laughter between them.

Zoro glared at him silently through a smirk, and Sanji stifled a laugh, flopping against the seat. He watched Zoro, unable to wipe the grin from his face. He bit his lip to try, but it was no use. With Zoro sitting there, back in his life where he belonged, he couldn't contain his excitement.

Sanji flipped him off, which prompted Zoro to lean towards him and follow suit, mouthing a few choice curses at him that he didn't really mean.

They rode out the rest of their study hall that way, enough that it became a sort of silent game that lasted even after the bell rang.

They didn't speak, even on the way to their lockers, a challenge to see who would break the silence first and effectively lose.

But the small brushes of fingers, their smiles, and the pleasant warmth in their chests was enough.

They didn't need words, and it ultimately didn't matter who broke first.

They had each other, and that meant the game had already been won.