Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece. I don't wish I did. That's a lot of fan mail.
Just kidding, there's never such a thing as too much fan mail.
Sanji's cigarette was stinking up the entire car as they drove down to Jersey, black-tinted windows, leather seats, and an engine so quiet one would never believe its horsepower. Luffy sat between the two men in the backseat, snoring, while Marco drove and Ace sat shotgun. The rest of their crew would meet up with them via a different route. "Once you and Ace have settled inside Storage B-3, you can't move until the boat takes off. I know we're on pressed time, but there is no head starts, got it?"
"I got it, I got it, for the thousandth time. Jesus, I am never doing a job with you again." Zoro was staring out the window, resting both of his hands on top of each other on his sword case. He watched the highway buzz by.
"Hopefully you won't have to do a job again."
The swordsman grunted affirmatively, then sent the cook a scathing look. "I can't believe you wore a cardigan."
"What?" Sanji snapped. "It's chilly on the shore!"
"You look like a pansy. I could never fight a man seriously when he was wearing a cardigan."
"Well, you look like a - a - damn punk with that bandana!"
"Punk? What are you, an old man now, too?"
"You bastard! I'm only a couple months older than you!"
"Couldn't tell by the way you organize the spice rack, wife-y."
"OI!" Ace spun around in his seat and slapped a wide hand across both Sanji's and Zoro's foreheads in one fell swoop. "Sabo ain't here to break up fights, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna tolerate 'em."
The blond and the green-haired man both leaned back into the respective seats, crossing their arms and glowering at each other. Their close friend Luffy remained in the middle, unaffected.
"Where is Sabo, anyway?" Zoro asked, curiosity piqued.
Ace groaned loudly, rubbing his forehead with one head. "Shut up!" he hissed between his teeth. "If Luffy hears you, he'll start crying again."
"What?" the swordsman pressed. A cold sense of dread settled in his stomach - was this was had been different between the two worlds, what needed to change? Did the other Zoro actually do away with Sabo? How come nobody had told him?
"Don't freak out, I'm sure he's fine," the older man assured him. "He just took off with some political activists seeking freedom or something. He'll probably wind up with the Peace Corps and come home in two years, covered in bug bites and ready to work at the dojo again." He shrugged. "Luffy just misses him a lot. It was all rather sudden." Turning around, he flashed the swordsman a grin, "But that means that lots of classes have opened up for you to teach at the dojo once this is all over!"
Zoro smiled back at the man, before Ace swerved the car because he hadn't been looking and nearly killed them all. Once they straightened out, the swordsman couldn't help but reflect on how fun it was to watch the children the few times he had gone to the dojo himself...he remembered that was where he thought that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't taking away having kids from Sanji - perhaps it was something they really could to together.
Bidden by his thoughts, Zoro reached out and clasped Sanji's hand. The cook's facial expression relaxed from his annoyance, and he held Zoro's fingers, rubbing small circles into his palm with his thumb, their two hands hanging between Luffy's knobby knees. Soon, they promised each other. Sometime soon, and we can work on us.
ZOSAN
"Half an hour," Ace whispered into the darkness. He was in black pants, black shirt, with a black bandana around his face, covering his mouth. Zoro thought he looked overdramatic, but he didn't tell the D brother that.
"Well, we have to wait for Marco's signal that Brook is in the clear with the cargo," Zoro corrected.
"Cargo?" Ace sneered. "They're kidnapped little girls."
"I know, I know," Zoro sighed. He shifted his weight from leg to leg nervously, feeling cramped in the tight shadows. "But after Brook's off the ship...is he on his own? I don't mean to sound mean, but he's an old man. I know he's in shape, but -"
"Don't be silly." Ace shook his head. "Sanji and Marco will help Brook until he gets the girls off the ship unto Robin's...borrowed...boat."
"Borrowed," the swordsman scoffed.
Ace just shrugged and gave him a look, as if to say What are you going to do about it? "They'll meet up with Usopp and continue surveillance from the base by the marina. Franky and Chopper will pick us up a half hour later, no exceptions."
"I got it..." Zoro held his swords close to his side to prevent them from jangling as he moved with the swell of the ship as it began to pick up speed, leaving the harbor. "But what about Luffy?"
"What about him?" Ace echoed.
"Sanji never gave him any instructions, did he?"
"He did," Ace's eyebrows crinkled, and Zoro could tell he was frowning underneath. "Stationed him right in the thick of it, the ballroom where they'll all be gathered for an evening banquet upstairs."
The swordsman's eyes widened. "No! That's where the distraction is happening, the bomb is going off!" He grabbed Ace's wrist and tugged at it frantically. "Come on, we only have fifteen minutes, we have to go get him out -"
"Zoro," Ace said stiffly. The swordsman looked at him desperately, wondering why he wasn't more protective of his younger brother. Nevertheless, he yielded to Ace's insistence and stopped his pulling, settling back into the shadows to listen intently.
"Luffy will be fine," the man assured him. He was smiling under his bandana, for his freckled cheeks were beginning to dimple.
"But the bomb -"
"Luffy is the bomb, Zoro."
Zoro looked up at the ceiling of Storage B-3 and grinned. "Oh," he commented lightly. "That makes sense." And before the turbulence of a ruckus going on many floors above could even touch the swordsman's sensory preceptors, he heard his swords begin to sing.
"That idiot!" Ace cursed beside him, before the swordsman could spring into action. He looked over, faintly hearing the security personnel beyond their room chattering over their communications. Meanwhile, a sick whine and then a crackle sounded in Zoro's ear. Loudly, Ace spoke into his microphone, relaying words to the entire crew. "What the hell was that? Was that Luffy? It's way too early - this is going to mess everything up!"
There was a round of feedback before Robin's voice came through - "We've lost contact with Mr. Strawhat, but from what I can see via the cameras that Mr. Long-Nose has us tapped into...yes, that was Mr. Strawhat."
"And what exactly did he do?" Ace pressed.
"He told me a fat man said something he didn't like, so he was going to punch him in the face and start early," Robin's cool voice relayed. "Please stay calm, Mr. Firefist. Mr. Skeleton is nearly in position, and the cargo has already been moved."
Zoro pressed the receiver to his mouthpiece. "Moving in, yes or no? That's all I want to know."
"Moving in, Mr. Marimo," Robin replied. The swordsman scowled - he hated that stupid nickname in the first place, but now it had become his codename for the night, so he would have to tolerate not just hearing it from Sanji but from everybody else. For some reason, it just didn't sound right to his ears when it was said with another's voice; it felt like a violation of Sanji's and his banter. It was only with a sinking feeling that he realized that it was probably because it was his pet name.
"What about Mr. Prince and Phoenix?" Ace asked, stilling Zoro's hand on the handle to the door.
"Already in action, Mr. Firefist."
Ace clicked off the communications and nodded at the swordsman, who smiled at the order to finally go in. He nearly sent the door flying off its hinges in his excitement to join the fray. As soon as the metal stronghold opened up, he exchanged one glance with his partner, and once he saw the fire and excitement burning in Ace's eyes, he knew it was time.
Their steps were silent, but swift. They tore about the corner, and like planned, split into two separate halves, one taking the left corridor and the other the right. Both men had spent hours reviewing the position of each security personnel and thus knew exactly where to strike without even tapping into their natural fighting instincts, which were honed to perfection regardless. Zoro killed the first man before he turned his back, and lowered him slowly to the ground with the tip of his blade. The next went down just as easily, although he had turned at the last second and the swordsman had caught the whites of his eyes.
He killed him just the same. Precision cuts, as though the men in the hallway were the dead carcasses of a filleted fish on Sanji's cutting board. Not a single stroke was wasted, not a single jab off-target. It was only when they had reached the stairwell to the next level that one man caught sight of Zoro as he was coming and had enough time to let out the beginnings of a yelp.
Zoro cursed at the mistake, clicking off the receiver on the man's gushing neck as voices spewed from the other end: You okay, 24? What's going on? Copy, 24, do you read me? Anybody getting transmission from -
The swordsman stomped on the electronic and it smashed it under his boot, broken pieces of plastic swimming in their previous owner's blood. He sighed and kicked it aside, nodding to Ace who was still holding a dead man by his broken neck. Ace clicked his own communication device.
"All clear, Miss All-Sunday?" He asked in a harsh whisper.
"All clear," Zoro heard Robin reply. "Cargo is safe, Mr. Skeleton will be joining us shortly. Please feel free to do stain the sea red with blood."
Ace winced. "You sure are weird sometimes, girl, but roger that, over and out."
With that, a dead static filled both the men's ears, and they knew that their communications had been completely cut. It was the only way to keep the passengers of the ship from contacting their forces as well, be it military, police, or something more private.
With permission to make noise, Ace proceeded to conduct the most demonic symphony that Zoro ever had to suffer through. He tossed the man whose neck he had broken down the flight of stairs, took his handgun, and fired three shots up into the ceiling above them. The bullets rebounded and ricocheted and rang like a million iron bells, meanwhile the thunder clap of his unmuffled gun echoed on for much longer.
As soon as the sound faded, another one began. The sound of a couple dozen trained guards stampeding down the stairs, moving into formation, hiding behind railings and in blind spots and preparing to attack the intruders from below. Ace scratched the side of his head with the barrel of his gun as Zoro walked up the stairs behind him, dragging the blade of Sandai Kitetsu across the ground; the sound of it scraping on the pavement was akin to the wail of something dying in the dark.
"Welcome to S.S. Massacre," Ace shouted up the stairs to their opponents. "Any communications you had to the outside world, including cellular devices and internet, have been severed." He dodged the first bullet that flew at him. "Please notify your employers that they should begin to prepare their fat asses for hell." Zoro smacked another bullet aside with the flat of his blade, as he easily lifted Wado Ichimonji to rest between his teeth. "Because before we send them there," Ace continued, "we're gonna give them a little motherfucking preview, boys."
The swordsman knew it was coming, but nothing could prepare him for the sequence that followed. This snap and hiss of a match as Ace lit it with his teeth - Zoro's feet were already moving in the opposite direction, heading for the stairwell on the other side of this deck - and Ace threw the fire with a flick of his two fingers, a crooked smile on his face the last thing Zoro saw before flames engulfed his vision.
Zoro evaded damage, but the force of the blast sent him flying to the ground. He skidded across the cold floor, breaking open his chin and bottom lip, his ears ringing and his vision flashing. It took him a few moments of blinking as he rose steadily to his feet, stumbling around a bit, before his hand found a wall with which to steady himself. He felt another hand grab his free arm. It was a strong hand, with calluses and burning skin. Ace.
He looked at his partner, who had singed hair and had lost half of his shirt, but was all-in-all okay. Zoro grinned, and tugged at Ace's shirt. Acknowledging the silent gesture, for the men couldn't speak right now, Ace pulled it off and shoved the tattered remains in his back pocket. Flashing him a wink, Ace took off again and Zoro followed.
They reached the top of the other staircase uninhibited, but once they started rampaging between the cabins, security was breaking out left and right - they had had enough time to regroup and reformulate their attack, and they had the advantage in both numbers and strategical places to hide. Zoro twisted as he nearly missed a swift punch from a previously closed cabin as a guard emerged, snarling at the intruders. After, he disarmed the man with a flick, sending his gun skittering across the floor toward Ace, who scooped it up and shot the man once between the eyes.
This sector finished, Zoro made to move on, but looked behind him when he realized that Ace wasn't beside him. The man was still crouched over a dead body, a crumpled bit of paper in his shaking hands, eyebrows slanted downward in an uncharacteristic display of true rage. The swordsman doubted he had ever seen Ace like this.
"Ace," he called out.
Ace stuffed the paper in his pocket. "Zoro," he answered stiffly. He rubbed the back of his neck, as if trying to calm himself down. "Zoro, I'm sorry."
"Sorry what?" the green haired man wondered.
"I can't..." he ran his fingers through his hair, "Shit, you guys'll be fine! Look, I need to go!"
"Go?" Zoro flung his arm around at all the scattered bodies surrounding them, trying to indicate that they were in the midst of raiding a ship..at sea. "How? Why?"
"I'm commandeering one of the powerboats below, and I'll stick to the shadows. I have connections, I'll be fine." He pulled out the piece of paper from his pocket and waved it back and forth. "As for why..." he pointed at it, "Blackbeard."
"What?" Zoro recalled the name - he had killed one of Ace's friends a while back, a guy named Thatch that the swordsman had never met. He even remembered asking Ace if he wanted him to take care of the enemy named Blackbeard, but the man had chuckled and said he could take care of it himself. Only now, after seeing him in action, did Zoro truly believe that. "Now, you found him now?"
"Yep, and the trail is hot, but it'll get cold fast if I don't go now -" Ace gave the swordsman a two-fingered salute. "Take care of Luffy for me, will you?"
"Damn right I will," Zoro yelled back down the hall. Before he knew it, the shadow of the broad-shouldered, handsome young man was gone, and the swordsman was alone. He steadied his katanas again in his hand and took off to execute the rest of the plan. He would just have to bit more careful without a companion to watch his back.
By the time Zoro reached the staircase to the next level, everything seemed eerily silent. He moved forward with caution, taking small steps, leaving footprints of blood behind in his wake. After he turned the corner, he ducked, and heard the monstrous clap of a gunshot in the confined space, and felt the brush of something pass over his head. Grinning, he slinked up the stairs at breakneck speed, hugging the curve of each step, until he reached his assailant and sliced from jugular to earlobe. Zoro did not look back to see, but he could hear that man's previous body parts squelch as they slid apart from each other.
The next level was a war zone, and Zoro could already smell it. Luffy had started the fight only a bit above this place, and thus the security was armed to the teeth, was more loyal and trained, and by now was eager to kill. More and more, the swordsman found that he was flinging himself at walls, and at one point, ducking behind a table to avoid a barrage of bullets. He made his way into a wider hallway and smiled to himself: there, across the way was an injured man, clutching his arm were a misfired bullet had grazed him, stumbling about in the open.
I'll just put him to sleep, Zoro thought to himself, stealing forward with a full frontal attack. The man looked up, shocked, and held out his bloodstained hand to Zoro in surrender - but it was too late, and the hilt of Zoro's sword was crashing down on the man's skull. He swayed and then crumpled, and the swordsman went to move him aside with the flat of his blade when -
Pain.
No, there couldn't be pain, he wasn't injured -
Lung, left lung - bullet.
Impossible, though, he didn't even hear -
And that was when he heard it, belayed by more than four seconds by Zoro's shocked mind: a blaring, loud, ripping gunshot, the snapping of a bullet from its cage. Then he sensed it, although it was impossible to feel in such detail, but the blood that began to drown his lungs, the vital organ threatening to collapse. A cough dragged itself from Zoro's mouth, and with it came a frothy foam of blood and salvia, a disgusting dribble of spit staining the floor in front of him as he drew in the most painful, agonizing breath.
"Shit," he cursed. He looked up, trying to find his assailant, his vision already blurring through the pain. Distantly, at the end of the hallway, he saw a man in black, a man with his back to Zoro, and in both of the man's hands were two pistols. He forced himself to stand, pushing on his sword with its tip in the floor to get on his feet. Zoro tumbled forward, slamming into a wall, and then rebounded off, breathing erratically, making his way toward his target. When he was right behind the attacker, he raised his blade and watched the fresh crimson on it glint in the artificial light of the hall. Again, Zoro sensed a sound, but could not make it out - the man might have spoken, might have screamed at him to stop - but the pounding of the blood in his ears drowned every other distraction out, the rush of it like the sound of waves. The stranger tried to twist to face him, but could not, for he was occupied with a pain somewhere near his feet - something that pinned them to the ground and prevented him from moving.
Wrong.
Zoro's paused the onslaught of his blade. The voice in his head sounded like a little Japanese girl who had dedicated her short life to living by the blade. A girl named Kuina.
Wrong, the voice repeated. The wound came from the front.
Zoro flipped his vision, looking behind him, but he saw nobody. I know that, he told himself - this is the front, my sense of direction isn't that bad, and with that dismissal, he gave his assailant no warning as he swung his sword in an upward arc, cutting the man from hip to shoulder blade across the back. It was a deep wound and began to drip immediately on the wooden floorboards, turning them a darker and darker brown. The man swayed but did not fold in on himself.
The swordsman who had attacked fell backward, pressing a hand to the bleeding wound on his chest, as his life force slipped through his fingers, the pressure as useless as trying to stay a wave with his toes, it was going...falling away into the ether...
The stranger before him then made the oddest gesture - a movement that caught Zoro's eye and brightened him into wakefulness. He tugged at his left foot, and then again. A low voice cursed, and the foot was pulled free from the floorboards. In it's place, where the man's foot was, stuck a lonely, thin, long nail. A sick heavy splattering of blood followed behind the man's foot as he turned, his long and lithe form struggled to face the swordsman who had cut his back open.
"You idiot..."
Zoro blinked blindly, swiping sweat from his eyes.
"...I can't believe that smart-ass's plan worked..."
Zoro could not move off the ground, he could only stare at the man above him, a man with a black cardigan that was already thoroughly soaked through with blood, a man who ripped a black bandana from his brow to reveal blond hair. The bandana landed on Zoro's lap as the man threw it.
"Fucking nailed me here and then shot you when you came...figured you'd get disorientated and attack the first target you saw, can't blame you..." the man pointed at the bandana. "Thanks for letting me borrow that, I really did feel badass."
"No," Zoro finally managed to say.
"So let's go," the man continued to talk. "We don't have a lot of time and there are still enemies..." the man's voice weakened as he swayed on his feet. "Fuck, you got me good, shitty swordsman."
"No, Sanji, no, no..."
Still standing, the cook looked down on his husband, a scowl darkening his face, his curled eyebrow clenching, his thumbs in his pockets, only sticking out to hold the pistols he'd borrowed from Marco, his exposed eye already swelled and blackened from a well-laid punch, and a frown turning down the corners of his perfect lips. None of this was bad - in fact, the man appeared almost sexy in the moment, framed by the ill light of the ship - but for the reality of the gathering pool of blood that spread at his feet, seeping across the hall slowly toward Zoro, who was still dragging in excruciating breaths.
"It's okay, Zoro, I'm f -" and that's when Sanji was overcome. His legs collapsed, his body flopped like something long dead, hitting the floor with an audible smack, the cook's downturned blond hair laying right between the swordsman's outstretched legs.
With shaking hands, Zoro reached out and ran his fingers through Sanji's hair, feeling the golden strands becoming slick with redness. He felt a scream deep in his soul, a wailing screech that could rip the sea asunder with the vibrations of its voice, but he smothered it. He stomped it out like a unruly flame, all the while resisting the urge to turn and face the shadow that had descended behind him.
"Who...the fuck...are you, you son of a bitch?" Zoro snarled.
From behind him, a laugh tinkled lightly - fufufufu.
A/N: And there you go, brothers and sisters. Still pretty sure, but um.. yeah. A lot of things to execute in this chapter - I mean things, not people... well, people too. Ah, you know. Please leave reviews, they really are the reason I've written this fiction for so long! And know that I really do love you all!