Zoros eyelids felt bruised and heavy…but he thought he heard something. Something his subconscious didn't readily identify but said was really important. So with as much energy he could muster he took the enormous effort of opening his eyes.
There was a ghost at the end of his infirmary bed it seemed as the blurry edges of the man merged with the overhead lights in a bright ethereal haze.
Not enough power, Zoro chided himself. He squinted and willed his eyes to focus.
Slowly the throb of his eyelids receded and he became more in tune with his surroundings. The outline snapped into focus around a blond in a sharp black suit, red rose still pinned into the lapel like the last time he had seen the man. He could hear him clearly now too, cursing to himself as he paced in agitation.
"What the hell are you doing shitty Marimo?! How would it look to all the mini shitheads out there if they train and train only to find the greatest swordsman in the world was defeated by some damn excuse for a stinking flu?"
"Sanji?" He tried but it came out more as a rasp. It wasn't just a flu and he could tell the shit cook knew it too. Chopper had been brave and gave it to him straight. The Midori plague. Stage three. He had been in quarantine for who knows how long…the cook was breaking Choppers protocol by even being here.
The cook didn't even look at him as he continued pacing.
"You need to concentrate on healing idiot! Talking to me, is the last thing I want to see you do!" But as Zoro remained silent, the cooks eyes flashed to him. Zoro just followed the cooks pacing with his eyes…waiting for him to continue.
Sanji stopped next to the bed and glared at the swordsman, who glared right back. Suddenly the cook seemed to explode.
"FUCK! Do you even know how sick you are right now? " He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and took a deep breath. Sanji reached into a pocket and pulled out a cigarette that was definitely not allowed in the infirmary, lit it, and took a drag before addressing him calmly. "It's been a while Zoro."
There was a kind of nostalgic and serious tone to his voice Zoro wasn't entirely sure he liked. Maybe it was Stage four now and the crew was sent in to say their goodbyes.
"I've been sleeping a long time…ya miss me that much, shit cook? Or does the fact you aren't wearing a protective suit and smoking mean they've given up and it's Stage 4?"
"That fact you don't know what it means tells volumes. " Sanji groaned before his expression turned softer. "And since I 'm here with you there isn't a way I can miss your ugly mug anymore right?" Another drag on the cigarette. "Listen though. You need to go to sleep and think about healing yourself. Chopper is working on a cure for you right now."
"No way…I just woke up. I kind of want to talk with you first."
"There is all the time in the world to talk to me after you stinking die Marimo! That's not today, right?"
Die.
Zoro was looking harder at Sanji as something tickled his memory. Why was Sanji wearing a rose again?
"Oi…I've been quarantined for weeks…how is that rose still alive?"
Sanji smiled a sad smile.
"You gave this to me months before you got the plague, idiot."
"There's no way it could live that long." Zoro answered, suddenly uneasy.
"No, there isn't. "
He felt the tide of his consciousness start to ebb away .
He wanted to stay with this man. It felt like closing his eyes and slipping back to sleep would mean pain and loneliness of the quarantine. His eyelids slumped back over his eyes and Sanjis voice whispered to him in an almost echo.
"Congratulations on the title, Marimo. We knew you could do it. She thinks you should defend it a little longer though. Don't let her down."
Zoro was up for the challenge.