A/N:
Look! A kind of early update! Aren't you proud?
Usopp took a crack at it last chapter. Now, will smol Rorono Zoro please step up to bat? He's tiny, but he's got a mean swing.
That's my roundabout way of saying that this is a flashback chapter and it's loaded with angst, so... mind the content warnings and tags? Alvida's in the later half of it. That should say enough. Feel free to yell at me in the comments.
TWs: Child Abuse, Implied Rape/Non-con... tbh this whole chapter is a big warning?
He's nine years old and not an inch of him feels tethered to the thing he calls his body.
His skin pulls too tight across his bones, head pulsing to the drum of his heartbeat, poised to implode. It's nothing but a battered joke, at this point.
The dojo shutters from sight under a slow, heavy blink. Zoro's footsteps stutter in time with his lungs, hesitating. He doesn't even know why he's here.
By the time he half-decides he should turn around, still inching forward, a shock of blue appears in the open sliding door.
He sighs, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
Too fucking late.
"Oh my god, Zoro!" Kuina gasps from just inside the dojo as he limps into view.
Her hands fly up to cover her mouth, but they quickly drop as she rushes outside and takes in the damage. The black eye and split lip Zoro's sporting. The bruises sheathing his arms like morbid, polka dot sleeves. Zoro tries to glorify them as battle wounds. He put up one hell of a fight today, but it's hard to pretend when he didn't win and lost a part of himself in the process.
This isn't rare — Kuina has seen it all before — but it is the worst it's ever been all at once. A great big combo deal of Alvida's greatest, literal, hits. He doesn't even remember what ticked her off this time. And, yeah, Zoro will admit it's pretty damn bad, but not bad enough to warrant tears. From either of them. So then why does Kuina look ready to cry?
At first, Zoro doesn't understand the urgency behind her touch when, out of all the places that she could be paying attention to, Kuina prods her shaking fingers at the marks on his neck. But then he remembers, very reluctantly but vividly, how the marks got there, which makes him remember what followed and he kind of wants to die a little. Or a lot.
Don't ask. Don't ask.
She asks. (Of course she does.) "What are those? Where did you get these?" comes on a whisper.
It feels like screaming.
Breathing takes more effort than usual, but Zoro manages. He doesn't— he's not even fully sure what happened. But he doesn't think he can do this right now, not without breaking down like—
Slut! Alvida shouts in his mind as he speed-hobbles out of the house, her grasp, from under her body's weight—
His ankle twinges, here and now in front of Kuina and not Alvida. It takes him a second to figure out why, and he feels the absurd urge to laugh.
He's shaking again, the tremors rolling head-to-toe.
But it's— good. Grounding. Physical pain to counteract the melting pot of memories bleeding pain and disgust and hot sticky hurt all over.
How can Kuina even tell he didn't just get this from some girl at school? It must be something about the way he flinches away from her touch, as though scalded, his heart racing under her gentle fingers.
"Is that an actual question?" he rasps, voice almost numb enough to alarm him but it's numb and he's numb and everything is numb except for that place in his head that's still screaming and bleeding poison. "Bruises, Kuina, from Alvida, like they always are. Can we go sit down now? I rolled my ankle."
"No." She shakes her head, uncooperative and unconvinced, eyes going watery. "No, we're staying right here until you tell me. Those look different."
Zoro can't look her in the eye. He stares far behind her without seeing anything, dulled by his own need to shut off all senses. It was a mistake to come here. He doesn't want her to see him like this. Zoro doesn't want Kuina to see him like this! He doesn't want to be like this! He—
Numb. He holds to it like a shield.
"It's a type of bruise," Zoro mutters, hand coming up to cover the bite-bruises standing out in painful purple. His mind bleeds more poison as he chokes out, "So really, I'm still right."
Kuina gives him a look, still composed even in the face of that revelation. Fear lights her eyes once he finds the courage to focus, look back into them.
"Is that all?" she presses. "Please, Zoro. Is that the only thing she did?"
Zoro doesn't see how lying will help, doesn't see how anything will help, at this point.
"No."
That one word breaks something forever. Breaks something in Kuina and she lets out a sob, her hand back over her mouth to muffle the rest but the one is all it takes. Like some kind of hellish dominoes, something in Zoro breaks, too. His numbness shatters and he does his best not to shatter with it.
They lunge for each other at the same time and Zoro flinches as Kuina's arms wrap around him so she holds even tighter. It's as horrible as it is amazing because Kuina is female, like Alvida, but she's also Kuina.She scrapes across bleeding mental wounds even as she soothes the bruised and battered parts.
She sniffles into his shoulder, voice muted against it. "Wait here while I tell Sensei—"
"You can't!" The cry rips out of him as violently as he pulls away from her, arms wrapped around himself to replace the lost comfort. Because sensei won't understand, Alvida will hate him, he'll get shuttled off somewhere a thousand times scarier when he doesn't know what to expect, right after the new status quo has been set, and— somewhere without his lifeline. "You can't tell him, Kuina, you can't!"
"He's going to know!" she shouts back and gestures at him pointedly. "You look like you got hit by a car, Zoro, he's going to want you to go the hospital and—"
"No!" His mind races, chanting that single word. A loop that hasn't stopped since the moment he was thrown to the ground and— "No, it's fine."
"No, it's not." Kuina shakes her head, frantic. "No it is not."
"I'll never forgive you if you tell him," he bites out, terrified shame fueling his words. From her stricken expression, it sparks some terror in her too.
"What do I do, Zoro?" She sobs. "I don't know what to do."
The excuse flies out of his mouth with the same ease of 'I fell down the stairs, I'm clumsy, it was the cat, the door, the floor rebelling against me, I swear, Mrs. Won't Care in a Week.'
"Just say A-Alvida grounded me, so I won't be coming to lessons for a few weeks."
He doesn't know where the fuck he's going to go in the meantime, but it can't be here and it definitely can't be that house. Not yet. If Alvida touches him again today, he's going to have to— shred his skin off or fill the bathtub with bleach and ignore the burn. It probably hurts less than hearing 'I love you' out of her mouth for the first time and realizing just how she means it.
Kuina stares, looking as helpless and hopeless as he feels. Though her frown speaks more to her actual thoughts on his decision, she nods. "If that's what you want, fine."
Zoro grits his teeth, wipes the tears coating his cheeks, and nods back. The one thing he's learned today, above all else, is that it doesn't matter what he wants.
It never did.
The first time Zoro truly understands he can never tell anyone, he's ten years old— almost eleven. Just entering middle school.
When comparing playground battle scars, he tentatively mentions to a friend that the scratches on his arms were from the lady at home.
His friend laughs.
"Dude. A girl gave you those?" The laughter continues, and a few more kids who'd overheard wander over and join in. "I didn't think you were that weak, Roronoa."
One of the girls guffaws, the sound sharp and shrill, though her words cut even deeper. "Uh-huh. My dad says real men are super strong and never get hurt. Especially not in such a dumb way."
Heat rushes to Zoro's cheeks, and he doesn't know if it's anger or embarrassment that causes it. It's all muddled up inside of him. He wants to defend himself, he really does, but—
Are they right? Does this make him weak?
And what about when... when Alvida does those other things?
Those things hurt, too, but in a different way. And sometimes it doesn't hurt at all, his body going numb as he seems to watch everything happen from a foggy window in the back of his mind. Sometimes it's just tears blurring his vision because it's not terrible beyond the feeling of wrong wrong wrong. Maybe that makes him even worse than weak. He doesn't know if there's a word for that.
He wants to ask. There are so many questions bottled up, on the tip of his tongue. They usually stay there because he won't ask Kuina, and Alvida lashes out the second he questions anything she does. He's established a few guidelines by now.
Don't ask what's in the bottle or she'll laugh and pour liquid fire on your cuts. If there aren't any, she'll make some.
Don't ask why she stopped smiling at you and ruffling your hair; why she started downing liquor like it's the only thing keeping her alive. She'll start sobbing about a cruel man you barely remember and punch you with that shiny ring she always stares at. She'll scream that it's your fault, what the fuck, stop crying.
Definitely don't ask why her hands and lips are everywhere you don't want them to be, why she forces yours to wander too. She'll say she loves you.
Zoro blinks away the memories and swallows the questions. They'll probably just laugh even more.
He lies.
"I fell out of a tree, and she helped me up. That's all. That's what I meant!"
A lump forms in his throat. Angry tears. God, no, not now. He struggles not to blow up ("Don't yell, Zoro, I'm helping you become a man. Isn't that generous? Don't assume people have bad intentions!") as the laughter persists.
A chorus of insults and ten-year-old wisdom breaks out.
"What an idiot!"
"I never have anyone help me anymore."
"Just look at him. Must be a crybaby!"
"Only girls cry over shit like that."
Zoro doesn't know how it happens.
One moment he's choking back tears, and the next his so-called friend is underneath him with a newly broken nose, gushing red, and a (soon-to-be) black eye. His hands shake as he pulls his raised fist away, pushing himself off the ground even though it kind of aches. His heart kind of aches, staring down at the boy whose eyes are as wide with fear as Zoro's. Oh, fuck no.
He doesn't want to be like her.
"Psycho crybaby!"
"Get away from him, you freak!"
Harsh hands pull at his shoulders, and Zoro's already frayed nerves unravel even further. "Shut the fuck up!" he yells, whirling around. A vicious shove sends the kid who grabbed him sprawling to the ground. "Don't fucking touch me!"
"Hey!"
"What's wrong with you?"
He bites his lip, unable to answer. Alvida would have plenty. Zoro flinches at the thought.
He doesn't want to be like her, but he's afraid he already is.
Zoro storms away from the group's angry shouts, acknowledging there's some truth to the crybaby comment as another tear slides down his cheek. He roughly wipes it away.
It's the genesis of Roronoa Zoro, Asshole Loner.
Alvida drills the message in even further when she's forced to pick him up from school for being suspended. She's four hours late, leaving Zoro glued to a chair in the office waiting room, pretending to do homework. School has been over for two of them. The clerk and secretary glare at her, but she lays the charm on thick the moment she steps inside.
Her hand claws into his shoulder as she pushes him to stand, and he suppresses a flinch as the textbook slips from his lap, slamming into green tile. Alvida's eyes flash angrily at the sound, as if his goal was to annoy her. He scrambles to pick it up, hugging it to his chest just for something to hide behind. She presents him forward like a shameful example, mouth pinched in an embarrassed frown.
"I'm so sorry! Gosh, sorry, I know I'm awfully late. I work dusk 'til dawn most days, and it's hard to be a single mother, you know? We get by, but not working isn't an option."
Her eyes cut toward him again. The threat to keep his mouth shut, veiled behind her busied facade, is clear. It makes him want to tear out of her grasp and run.
He gulps, blurting the beginnings of a panicked excuse, "But they were—"
Her grip on his shoulder tightens dangerously. "He's usually independent enough to understand our situation and behave himself." She sighs, so very put-upon and troubled. "Well, they say all kids act out for attention, right? I really should get going. Maybe my boss won't fire me for leaving early if I just explain..."
By the time she's done, the staff are glaring at Zoro.
"Boys will be boys," the secretary says, shaking her head. "See it all the time, ma'am. Make sure you keep him on the straight and narrow from now on."
Alvida nods sadly before tugging him through the door. "Believe me, I'll try my very best."
In the car, she does just that.
The cork bursts and she lands a few slaps to the side of the head that make his ears ring. At home, she gives him a black eye to match the other kid, cussing up a storm.
The school will assume the other boy got a swing in too, if it doesn't heal before he goes back. Self-defense, of course. Zoro wonders why he can't use that excuse. How was he supposed to defend himself from the taunting, the laughter, if this is apparently the wrong way? It's how Alvida always shuts him up when he's "being a brat". Says he needs a firm hand to keep him in line.
The image of his friend's terrified face flashes in his mind, scared of Zoro, what he'd done. The adults in the office, horrified, agreeing with Alvida and nodding along in sympathy for the terrible burden that Zoro is, and—
Well, he's beginning to think she's right.
"I always knew you were a little fucking monster," she claims. "I knew it! Always causing trouble and giving me attitude at home. You won't have any friends if you treat them all like that. I thought you'd at least be considerate enough to not pull this crap at school, too."
"But they were—"
"No, no. I get it. No need for excuses." She cuts him off again with a huff of disdainful amusement. "You can't help who you are."
Oh, he thinks, because it's then that he truly understands.
Zoro is meant to hurt and be hurt, and that's the end of it. That's who he is. Violence is necessary to deal with him because he is violent. He must deserve everything else she does, too. There's no point in speaking out, even to defend himself.
Alright, then. Lesson learned.