Hakumai smelt of damp leaves that fell from momiji which surrounded Enma shrine. The dilapidated building creaked in its age. The paper of the shoji doors left little to hide behind in the darkened space. Hiyori's heart perched in her throat as Zoro fought their attackers. Her hands curled into fists. And here she sat in the darkness, powerless to do anything. When the last foe collapsed in the thick autumn grass covered in the brilliant colors of autumn leaves, Zoro flicked the last drops of blood from his sword. A puddle had formed below the bodies. The crimson pool mixed with the bright red leaves, soaking the earth with the blood of war in a place of peace. Will they ever see the end?
She stood in the shadows and slipped past the doors. He sheathed his sword, hand hovered near the hilt, and ambled toward the shrine. The dead leaves crunched beneath his feet as he moved, and he wore a stern expression in his hyper vigilance. Hiyori scanned the trees for more of them. A light breeze tossed more leaves through the overgrown brush dusted in the warm hues like a sunset.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"I'm fine," he said. Her body relaxed and hands unclenched. What more could she have done?
"I am sorry for getting in your way," she said quietly. His gaze lifted to her at her words, attention far from the forest around them.
"Yeah. Well, don't worry." He tilted his head, gold earrings gleaming in the ray of light that passed through the trees. "If you get killed, I wouldn't be able to face Momonosuke." Her proud heart lifted at the sound of her brother. Zoro neared the shrine and threw his swords down with a loud thud and sat on the highest step. The wood gave softly beneath her feet, and she lowered herself beside him.
"You wanna go back to the house in the snow, right?" His voice a somber note that took her aback. The house a stark memory. The warmth of his body beside her in the cold. His hard muscles beneath her palms as he breathed in slumber. The absolute safety she felt tucked away in his arms, in the modest home no one thought to look for her. Did she want to go back?
"It doesn't matter as long as I can hide myself." She almost added, "As long as I'm with you." Her sense of duty overtook any thoughts of herself. She wouldn't tell him how she felt. His brows came together, gaze far away.
"I wanna get back to the guy who stole my sword." Bandit's Bridge. Of course, he'd want to go back there. His arms crossed over his chest, jaw tense in alert, even throughout their conversation. She expected nothing less from this man who had saved her life repeatedly. He had told her he was a member of a pirate crew, yet he fit so well in the land he walked. Not only did he dress the part, but his sense of honor to his crew, his swordsmanship alone gave her pause to call him nothing if not a samurai. Was that why she'd stuck so close? Listened when he told her when to run from danger? The man that sat beside her made her question herself.
Zoro stretched and laid back beneath the shrines short roof. His yukata shifted to the side enough for her to see the chiseled muscles beneath the stark white fabric relax.
"I guess I made Orochi really mad. His hunting party's so pesky." His words casual, as though he had spoken of the weather, or which sumo he thought would win a match. Death clung to the man beside her, yet he'd given her the kindest understanding glances. Who was Zorojuro? Why did she want to know so much about him? His lips parted in a sigh.
"I wonder if Otoko is doing okay." She closed her eyes. The memory of Yasuie's death still fresh, still raw. "I wasn't able to stay by her side. I'm worried." Toko had loyally been beside her, even when things were rough, yet here she sat, absent from the young girl's time of need. Disgraceful.
"She's with my crew." His words out of his mouth with no hesitation. "She should be fine, at least physically." His gaze grew turbulent, brows came together in a scowl. "I won't forgive Orochi! I'll avenge Tonoyasu at any cost." Her breath caught at the sheer vengeance in his tone. She knew it well. Felt it every moment she had to herself. She regarded the man beside her like a mirror. There was no blood, but the wound gushed out of every word. Her lip trembled; her eyes threatened to pour. No. Not now. I am the daughter of a samurai. I will not cry. Yet, her family, the last of her precious moments with them flashed before her. God, she felt powerless.
The wind picked up and scattered the warm toned leaves over the decrepit shrine. She eyed her own hands clenched into fists in her lap.
"I wish I could…" Her voice a whisper from her lips. Would he hear her? Did it matter? "Kill him myself!" she said with as much conviction as she could muster in her sorrow. Her vision swam with tears.
Zoro had spent little time with the woman beside him. Wano had only shown him its sharpened teeth. Yet, there she was. A bright shobu blossom in the snow. Hiyori had extended kindness to him that felt so tender, he couldn't turn her away. Everything about Hiyori had softness. Only recently, had he seen the strength behind those eyes, the darkness that lurked just below the surface. Now, as if a dam had given way, she allowed that darkness to seep through the cracks. Her whole body trembled, knuckles white in her anger. He'd seen it so often, yet he almost forgot, how a country could turn a flower into thorns. Her quiet sounds made his heart ache. When was the last time he'd felt this way? So drawn to Hiyori, Zoro found he couldn't leave her alone, couldn't think of anyone else by her side. Her teeth grazed the plush palette of her lower lip. The tears trickled down her face and made his heart pound. His brain screamed at him to make it stop, this sorrow he couldn't just cut away with a blade like everything else.
Zoro sat up and slid next to her. Hiyori's large blue eyes widened at his nearness. His heartbeat in his ears as he moved. What was he doing? Her teeth released her lip, leaving it flushed as if kissed, and he wanted to. His hand slid over her cheek, her eyes half-lidded, and she leaned into his touch. Her cheek fit perfectly within his palm. Her mouth relaxed and a soft pink flush dusted her pale skin. Don't cry. Zoro leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. He almost groaned with the feeling of her. Her hands reached up and clung to the front of his yukata. She pulled him toward her, her lips opened hungrily for him. He'd tucked his curiosity for her to the back of his mind, too afraid of what that could mean. Now, with her warm mouth that yielded to his own, that curiosity roared to life. His hands encircled her body and drew her onto his lap. Her thighs spread around his hips. Her warmth draped over his body like a sweet caress. Nothing felt like enough. She slid her fingers through his hair sending a shiver down his spine. He explored the heat of her mouth, while her hands roamed the expanse of his chest, pulling down the fabric that impeded her. The breeze chilled his skin, but her hunger kept him warm. Her hips rolled over his lap suggestively imploring him for more.
Zoro's hand fumbled with the front tie of her own yukata; afraid he'd overstep until she reached down to undo it for him. Hiyori pulled away, eyes never leaving him, and removed her own dress. The fabric fell around her like ocean waves to reveal the hard peaks of her nipples and the alluring juncture between her thighs. Had she always been naked beneath these clothes? He gave a long exhale, attempting to remain calm. Her eyes roamed greedily over his body, hand stroking the covered length of his erection. She raised a brow as if to question whether he wanted her to stop.
"You're so straightforward." Zoro didn't recognize his own voice. Her cheeks blazed but her smile widened.
"I am," Hiyori said, "When I know what I want." Her turquoise hair fell over her shoulders and brushed against the fullness of her breasts.
"I see," he said. She removed his own clothing to leave him bare to her, unabashedly gazing over him. He'd never felt self-conscious about his body, and he wouldn't start now, but the way she watched him made him squirm. She gently ran her hands over his cheeks and drew his lips to her once more. All thought evaporated with her gentle contact. He yanked her body against his own, her breasts against his hard chest, her damp sex against his painfully hard member. Zoro wanted nothing more than to devour Hiyori until he couldn't tell where he stopped, and she started. His hand gripped her ass and pressed her firmly against him. The other slipped between them to take her breast in his palm. She made a soft sound into his mouth, where he swallowed it away. His thumb rubbed rhythmically against her nipple until she moaned against his lips. His name slipped from them as she ground against his body.
Hiyori's kiss traveled to the crook of his neck, her breath warming his chilled skin. He groaned as she reached between them to slip him between her soaked folds. She groaned, using his length to thrust against. Fuck. Her little mouth latched on his shoulder as she upped her pace. The sheer friction she created pressed against his control, daring him to sheath himself deep inside her. He moved his ministrations to her other breast as she rode him. Zoro wanted to lose it as Hiyori quivered against him, hands gripped tightly to his arms to anchor herself, pleasuring herself on him. Fuck. Her moans were sweet and musical in his ears.
"Zorojuro," she moaned in his ear. A curse slipped from his lips as he grabbed her ass with both hands and shoved her harder against his length. The slick sound of their contact mingled with her dulcet moans. He felt her come apart over him and her limbs shook from the effort until her body stilled. He tilted her chin up to take her mouth again. He couldn't get enough of this surprising woman who hid from danger, cared for him tenderly, then stripped before him, and declared she'd kill the man who ruined her life.
Zoro moved them so that she lay beneath him. He hovered over her as her breasts rose and fell with heavy breaths. Her face flushed, her eyes glassed, arms above her, and absolutely fucked out. He slipped his thumb between her folds to her swollen clit. The contact an instant reaction. She arched her back with her mouth open in a silent cry. He rubbed her the way he'd done her nipples, slow, methodical. Hiyori squirmed against his touch and thrust her hips up to his hand. Curious, he slipped his index finger into her tight little cunt. This time, the moan was all but silent. His own body begging to follow those fingers, to take her there, to take away all that darkness. Even just for a moment. Zoro drew his hand away and replaced them with the head of his cock against her weeping entrance. Hiyori mouthed a plea, and he sank into her. Her eyes rolled back, and her mouth opened in ecstasy. Her erotic sounds and the tight squeeze of her walls around his shaft ripped a low growl from his throat. He filled her until he seated deep. He wanted to live here like this. Her mess of hair spread around her like a halo, her teeth clutched her lip for dear life, and his name tumbled off her tongue like a prayer.
Hiyori rolled her hips as she adjusted. The thick length of him filled her in just the right places. His intense gaze made her feel sexier than any client had in her life. He drew out of her slowly and plunged back in. He screwed his eye shut and groaned low over her. She lifted her hips up to meet him. The look on his face told her this was exactly what he needed. He returned a grin that made her stomach flip and her heart race. The snap of his hips set the pace that she needed. He said her name like a promise that she hoped he kept as he brought her higher. Her coming climax like the ocean waves in the storm of him. She sank her fingers into his arms, tense in her grasp. Her orgasm ripped through her at the brutal mercy of his pace. Higher still when he told her he was coming— when he growled as he did.
He laid over her with his arms braced around her so he wouldn't crush her. She wrapped her arms around him. One hand brushed the chilled skin of his back, the other pressed against the space behind his neck. Their breaths heavy with him still buried inside her. Safe. Just like their time together in that little house in the snow. She felt safe.
They lay together for a time in silence. On shaky arms, he hauled himself up and lay on his back beside her. She wrapped a leg over him and an arm over his chest. This time, he held onto her arm, stroked the back of her hand. These were the moments she remembered the most about Zoro, the gentleness she wouldn't expect from a man like him. A man who only knew the sword.
"Things will work out," he said finally, "I believe in your people. I always believe in my crew." Somehow even when things fell apart around her, even when the end felt nowhere in sight, she believed him. His conviction was enough to convince her.
"I think so too."