Author's Note: I apologize to anyone who may take issue with the title of this fic. I named it long before the pandemic, and it ultimately proved to be a bad coincidence. Please know the title has meaning to the story, which, in turn, has nothing to do with the virus situation whatsoever. I would never make light of that. That said, I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy, and I appreciate you checking out my work!
"Strike!"
Following Zoro's command, Sanji pulled back his blade quickly, lifting the sword over his head and swinging down with as much force as he could muster towards Zoro's face, the swordsman instantly catching the blade with his own.
Zoro flicked his wrist easily, his body following the motion, twisting as bare feet pivoted in the grass. His movement was so fluid, and yet the force he pushed back with was strong enough that Sanji struggled to hold against it, both hands gripping the hilt of his sword tightly so as not to falter, while Zoro managed with one hand.
Zoro's expression was completely focused though, eyes flitting over Sanji's form each time he moved, no doubt judging and calculating in ways Sanji still couldn't even imagine, even after three weeks of training with the brute.
"Again," Zoro said quietly, the arm holding his own sword almost guiding Sanji's purposefully down in a long arc as he pushed the blond's blade away.
Sanji did his best to follow the momentum as Zoro had taught him, a growl of exertion escaping him when he swung once more, this time with a slice aimed at Zoro's waist.
But again, Zoro's sword stopped his attack with no effort, and yes, that was the whole point of this. He wasn't really trying to cut Zoro to ribbons, but dammit, this was as easy as breathing to Zoro, wasn't it.
"Now, block," the swordsman murmured, and before Sanji knew it, Zoro's right hand pulled a second blade swiftly from its sheath at his hip, forcing Sanji to react quickly, an awkward fumble of his own sword barely able to stop Zoro's attack as it hurtled towards his head.
Caught between both of Zoro's blades, he danced back a few feet, weapon outstretched, hating the way his arms still trembled with the weight of wielding it.
Zoro twirled and maneuvered his swords like they weighed nothing, like they were mere extensions of his own limbs. He'd tried to have Sanji conduct strength training, but days of hacking bamboo poles to bits and lifting heavy river rocks only made the blond feel silly and embarrassed, far from the power and confidence he should have been building.
It was much easier to practice with the Empress, whose smile was always kind and encouraging and whose touches were gentle and light, unlike Zoro, who wasn't afraid to yell at him, or to get physical, to push him around, even nick him with a blade a few times.
So he'd found himself making a habit of sparring with Hiyori in the evenings, when Zoro disappeared into the forest for the night to go hunting, still refusing to let Sanji even tag along for the experience. Hiyori went easy on him, he could tell, but her patience was always a soothing comfort net after long, tiring days spent with Zoro in the humid woods, or out in the fields with the heated sun blazing down.
Too often Sanji remembered his brothers' harsh treatment, their disgusted sneers when he couldn't get back up, the way they'd mock him when his limbs shook, when his feeble strength couldn't hope to match theirs.
It should have been demoralizing, not to mention traumatizing, to be thrown back into an environment like that, where he was reminded of his weakness daily with no one to believe in him. Only disappointment. Endless disappointment.
And yet, he kept trying. He tried damn fucking hard despite the mosshead's stubborn admonishments and exhausting regiments that left Sanji wondering what relevance they could possibly have. Because for all that disappointment, all the sweat, and yes, the blood that had fallen, there was something different about Zoro that always showed itself just when Sanji thought he couldn't take anymore, when tears threatened to complete that trinity so many deemed the keys to progress.
Zoro did believe in him. And Sanji strove for the moments when Zoro acknowledged him, when Sanji would correctly position his stance and Zoro would nod his approval, or he was able to push away one of Zoro's attacks and he would see that exhilarated grin come over Zoro's face. Never reluctant, never annoyed, just full of pure pride, if Sanji allowed himself to assume.
Zoro loved it, rather inexplicably in Sanji's eyes, but he truly loved the art of swordsmanship, and it was something he clearly took joy in sharing.
Even more inexplicably, Sanji loved watching his swordsmanship, he found, taking the quiet moments when Zoro demonstrated to observe, not only the way his body moved with unexpected grace, but his face, his eyes, which shone with far more light and peace whenever they were alone together. It was what had drawn him to the swordsman in the beginning, those fleeting glimpses of Zoro's true soul that he kept so carefully hidden around others.
But somehow, when it was just the two of them, the rest of the world fell away, and it was something Sanji had never experienced before with anyone, not his mother, or even the Empress. He'd never had a truly safe space, a safe person, with whom he could talk, tease, laugh, his worries seeming small.
His insecurities hadn't vanished, of course, and neither had their arguments surrounding them. They often flared up still in moments of weakness, much to Sanji's continued frustration. But he'd never met a person who could so perfectly combat them as Zoro could, push them right back down with equal stubbornness.
Day by day, time and again, the stupid mosshead had proven that he too could see Sanji, even when Sanji couldn't see himself, and day by day, that thought alone made running seem like less of an option, even if reports continued of his father's soldiers scouring Goa in search of him.
That kingdom was only so large…. It was only a matter of time before they set their sights on Wano, time Sanji wasn't sure would ever be enough for him to grow strong, if three weeks hadn't done it.
He couldn't endanger Wano, nor Zoro, despite the man's persistent assurances that Germa wouldn't stand a chance against them. It didn't matter. He wouldn't put Zoro through that again. He didn't need to see more battle, nor put himself on the line for Sanji of all people....if he was even willing.
Yet, even with that thought in mind, the prospect of leaving seemed nigh impossible now when Zoro's irritating smirk entranced him so much…
...so much it nearly made him lose his grip when the swordsman leaned in close to shove away Sanji's sword.
The air sparked between them and there was something about the glint in Zoro's eye when he met Sanji's, an eyebrow arching in challenge…
Sanji took the bait, abandoning their choreographed routine for instinct instead, whirling in a circle with his blade to swing it quickly back at Zoro in another offensive attack.
He saw the tiniest flash of surprise twitch at the man's brows for an instant, his smirk growing. And then, just as quickly, Zoro blocked, crossing his two blades in front of him to clash with Sanji's once more.
The blond had known it was coming, knew he'd have no hope of deflecting when Zoro inevitably tensed in preparation to throw Sanji off.
So he tried something new, something he hadn't tried before but just came naturally in that small moment of alarm.
He pushed back against Zoro's blades with all his might, using that force to twist his leg up, aiming a kick directly for Zoro's side. It should have been a mistake. Surely Zoro would dodge in time, catch his leg just as easily, or scold him for breaking form.
What he hadn't expected was for the kick to land.
His shin connected hard with Zoro's waist, a hand nearly having to catch himself on the ground when the sudden weight shift sent him toppling off balance, but he managed to stay upright, snapping his leg back to his side and stumbling back a little clumsily.
It didn't fell the swordsman, who merely grunted at the impact, feet staying firmly planted, but Sanji saw his eyes widen, his lips splitting as an almost disbelieving grin slowly crossed his face.
And then Zoro lunged forward with an unplanned attack of his own, his blade catching Sanji's easily and giving a sudden flick that was somehow enough to knock the blade clear from Sanji's grasp, landing on the ground several paces out of reach.
Sanji's heart thumped in panic, now completely weapon-less, but Zoro merely flipped the sharp edge of his blades away from Sanji and gave a nod, that same reckless look on his face that only made the new challenge seem all the more attractive. Sanji wasn't sure how much Zoro's crooked flash of teeth was to blame for that.
Still, he forced down the fear that automatically wanted to well in him. Zoro wouldn't hurt him. Not for real, no matter how feral and uncontrolled he looked. Zoro could control those swords better than any warrior Sanji had ever seen.
So he struck out again with another kick, feeling the reverberation jolt through his leg when the sole of his boot met one of Zoro's blades, as sturdy as a metal bar. Zoro had always urged him to train barefoot as well, claiming it would help him feel the ground better, but in that moment, Sanji found himself glad for his own stubbornness against it.
His body was exposed, in the second he balanced there, so he wasn't surprised when Zoro's other sword came slicing for his torso. It wasn't surprising, but the sight was still terrifying. Desperation led his body to react instinctively again, the foot locked with Zoro's blade pushing back hard. Zoro's arm stayed predictably still, something that was normally frustrating, but it gave Sanji a solid surface, however small, to kick off of. He did so quickly, rotating his body as fast as he could in mid-air, arcing himself over Zoro's swing and landing to send his opposite leg straight for Zoro's ribs again.
The swordsman dodged this time, forcing Sanji to land somewhat clumsily, barely catching himself from face-planting into the grass. He was panting again, had to brush sweaty hair from his face, but when he staggered to his feet, Zoro's expression was very near incredulous, if that was something the swordsman was capable of emoting. Disbelief curled his lips upward, the mosshead's dark eyes bright and amazed as he shook his head with a huff of breath.
Amazed at what, Sanji didn't know, but he could still sense that excitement within him as they lunged for each other once more. Sanji didn't know what he was going to do, but—
Suddenly, a great series of thundering cracks rumbled from the woods surrounding the clearing, the sight of several tall trees snapping and falling behind Zoro sending a flinch through Sanji's body.
He had little time for the confusion to run its course before an enormous figure burst from the treeline, just as the creature had all those nights ago. Just as it so often did in his dreams.
But this time, it wasn't a dream. It was very real, the reverberations of giant paws shaking terror right back into his heart.
Instead of the dark rippling of midnight fur though, he was met with something new, a massive golden creature, and for a moment, Sanji foolishly wondered if the Night Beast changed form to match the time of day.
But no, this new creature lacked the same grace and stealth. Its features were more canine, long fangs protruding from a snarling mouth situated beneath a flat, hog-like nose. A thick yellow mane burst like flames from its collar, a similar explosion of fur serving as its tail.
It stomped its stout legs impatiently, dragging a paw through the dirt like a bull preparing to charge.
Zoro had turned to face the creature, but he didn't attack, and in fact, he hardly looked surprised, strangely. Sanji caught the slow glance Zoro shot back at him, as if waiting for Sanji to make the first move.
As if he could, standing there frozen, his chest heaving as he faced down a beast more than twice his height. He felt the heavy absence of his sword like a phantom limb, one that surely wouldn't help him even if it was restored.
The creature took a step forward, crushing the grass completely flat in a wide circle, Sanji automatically stumbling back, his own foot barely leaving an imprint. He registered vaguely in his panicked mind that he'd moved closer, perhaps subconsciously, to his fallen sword.
It was still out of reach though, and the beast hadn't stopped, watching him carefully with piercing eyes, the pupils mere pinpoints in its yellow sclera.
Its incisors were as long as sabers, the creature's thick lips unable to contain them, and Sanji saw saliva pooling at the corners of its mouth, its hunger far more obvious, far less calculating than the Night Beast's had been. This creature would surely delight in tossing him around like a plaything before devouring him.
It was still stalking towards him, and dammit, why wasn't Zoro doing anything? Why was he just standing there as the beast moved past, his brows raising slowly in insistence that Sanji do something.
But what? What did he have? His tiny sword, shorter than the beast's teeth? His legs, which he'd fleetingly thought might be viable weapons just moments before? Only to realize now how futile they'd be in a fight against a monster that could snap them in two.
He had nothing, not even Zoro when the creature leapt for him suddenly, the blond falling back to the ground, cowering as two enormous paws landed on either side of his head, just like the Night Beast's so often did in his recurring dreams.
Those horrible jaws loomed above him, the creature's hot breath snorting over him from its gaping nostrils, and there was absolutely nothing Sanji could do but close his eyes and hope it killed him quickly—
"Komachiyo, no!"
A young voice cut through the clearing, and Sanji had just enough bravery left to open his eyes when he heard small feet scampering through the grass, Tama huffing and puffing as she finally made it to the beast's side.
Sweat moistened her forehead, robes disheveled and stained as if she'd run through the forest to catch up.
Her lips drew into a pout as she fearlessly reached out to shove the creature's enormous leg with no fear.
"You were supposed to wait!" she complained, now throwing all her weight against the beast's unmoving leg until it finally lifted up a paw to back away from Sanji, tongue falling out of its mouth before it nuzzled the girl, sniffing eagerly at her robes.
"Okay, okay..." Tama muttered, reaching into her small pouch and pulling out a few dangos, which the creature slurped happily off her palm with its huge tongue.
The girl merely giggled, barely reaching the monster's knee when she reached out to scrub hands through its fur.
Zoro approached from the other side as Sanji slowly sat up, eventually scrambling to his feet, backing away carefully to Zoro's side, eyes not leaving the beast. Zoro, unbelievably, showed no concern or surprise whatsoever…
And the realization hit him when the beast playfully bounded across the clearing in an impromptu game of tag, Tama chasing after with a smile on her face.
"You planned this," Sanji breathed, shaking his head slowly at his own stupidity. "This was just a set-up. This wasn't even… You just…" A frustrated sound and he ran fingers back through his hair.
"He was supposed to be part of your training, Curly Brow," Zoro muttered, returning his blades to their sheaths and shrugging as if it didn't matter. "Don't read too far into it. Though I thought he'd stay serious a bit longer...stupid mutt…"
"So what, you sent Tama's pet after me? Ordered it not to bite?" Sanji growled, dropping his hands and rounding on Zoro.
He shouldn't have been so upset, but dammit, it was taking him right back to his childhood, when his father would underestimate him, purposely training him with weakened soldiers. His mother had always assured him it was to help him, since he wasn't as strong as his siblings, but the look on his father's face had never been encouraging, and his words had always been disparaging, humiliating….not to mention his brothers' jeers...
"You've gotta start somewhere!" Zoro was insisting. "You haven't even tried—"
"Was this to prove how worthless I am? How much further I still have to go?"
The bitter words flew out of Sanji's mouth before he could rein them in. He'd been trying so hard these past few weeks to let himself feel, if only briefly, his own self-worth, but it was all too easy to slip back into the anger and frustration that had plagued him for years.
"No!" Zoro growled, annoyance flaring in his voice. "Don't you know how training fucking works? It's like—I dunno, your cooking! You can't go making your fancy shit right away without learning the basics—"
"I know that, mosshead! I'm not stupid! That's not the issue!"
The issue was that, for a second, he'd thought he was there, fighting Zoro. He'd thought he had a chance. But now it was only more apparent that he was so much farther than assumed… Was Tama's beastly pet terrifying in its own right? Surely, but even Tama wasn't afraid, so why should he be? It was foolish—it was pathetic—it was—
Zoro's hand gripped his arm hard, jostling Sanji away from his darkening thoughts, the fire in his eyes working hard to hold the blond's attention.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" the swordsman huffed. "I should have told you. But I thought the element of surprise would—"
"Yeah, well, you thought wrong! 'Cause it just made me feel even weaker than before!" And Sanji ripped his arm free roughly to pick up his pacing again, flattening a large square of grass beneath his feet.
"Well, now that you know, we can work it in as part of your training!" Zoro justified, not giving up. "Actually try different—"
"How the fuck am I supposed to fight a giant monster like that? I can't even take you on!" Sanji retorted, thrusting hands at the swordsman's broad form.
"You're overreacting!" Zoro cried.
"No, I'm not!"
"Do you think I'm stupid? I know you're not a swordsman—"
"Just shut up!"
"—So it's useless to keep training you like one!"
"This is making me feel so much better, Zoro—!"
"Let me finish!"
Again, Zoro grabbed him, but this time, Sanji didn't waste time wrenching away, instead twisting his body on instinct to whirl a kick straight for the swordsman's side.
"You have power, Curly Brow!" Zoro growled, blocking Sanji's leg with his own arm and lunging forward to tackle him.
Sanji danced back in time, anticipating the move, instead lifting a knee in an attempt to nail him in the stomach.
"But it's not in that sword!" the swordsman gritted out as he stopped Sanji's knee with both hands.
Sanji saw red, hot irrational red, and it was enough fuel for him to snap his leg forward powerfully, driving his boot directly beneath Zoro's ribs.
It felt like kicking a wall with how infuriatingly hard Zoro's abdominals were, but still the swordsman grunted, staggering back with a wheeze that was far more satisfying to Sanji's ears than it should have been.
And yet, instead of getting angry, instead of retaliating, Zoro merely backed off, a hand rubbing at his stomach as he muttered, "See?"
Sanji slowly lowered his foot and glared at him silently, not understanding.
"Your legs, idiot," Zoro said, fingers dropping from his reddened skin to gesture at the blond's boots. "You were so much more natural just now. You stopped thinking and just…moved."
Was that true? Sanji certainly hadn't put any thought into finesse of any kind. In fact, it had mostly been his irritation, he thought, that had driven him and he wasn't sure if that could be considered powerful in any way. One should be rational in combat, or so he'd always assumed.
Still, he could admit how much less he had to think when he didn't have a cumbersome blade in his hand.
"That still doesn't answer how you expect me to take on a beast like that. Or my father's soldiers for that matter..." Sanji muttered eventually, knowing it was childish to keep arguing, but Zoro had definitely started this one.
Zoro didn't answer him right away, just watched him with those serious eyes that always seemed to want to say more...
Though they never did, and the three words that left Zoro's mouth were hardly sufficient, in Sanji's eyes.
"I get it," he said, to which Sanji scoffed automatically.
"Shut up, I do. You think there's nothing you can do. That your skills won't be enough. And you're right, they won't be. Not yet." Sanji mustered his most menacing glare, though Zoro wasn't perturbed, continuing, "But that's why you've gotta keep fighting! Because the second you give up, they've won! You can't let your past take control of your future. You have to face it."
"That's easy for you to say," Sanji dissented, almost a gut reaction at this point. Was it easy though? He knew Zoro's past, after all, knew how much it affected his present...
"It's not," Zoro answered, confirming this. "It took me...years to get to this point. And I still..."
Zoro trailed off, so Sanji took his chance to snap, "And what part of 'we don't have years' are you not getting? You really are terrible at motivational speeches!" The blond lowered his tone to mimic the swordsman's deep voice. "'Go on! Face your father's army, Sanji! Even if it's suicide!'"
The look of immense frustration that came over Zoro's face in reaction was almost enough to make Sanji regret his outburst. Maybe he was too hard on the idiot… But Zoro wasn't the one with mediocre combat skill.
Sanji sighed heavily, his heartbeat no longer racing in his ears, feeling far less emboldened when Zoro didn't respond in turn, didn't even roll his eyes or crack a smile.
"I don't want to give up, Zoro… Not anymore," he murmured eventually, watching Zoro's face and wishing he could stop blaming others for his own shortcomings. "But the longer this progress takes, the more difficult it becomes. And not for the reasons you're thinking."
"Then why?" Zoro asked, bringing eyes tentatively to Sanji's.
Again, the blond sighed, wondering why his next words were so hard to admit. It wasn't as if they were inherently bad.
"Because…for the first time in my life, my weakness—my failure, if it comes to that—won't just affect me," he said, taking in Zoro's form, the warmth of his tan skin, the corded power of his arms that somehow fed into gentle hands, the stubborn clumps of hair that perpetually fell into his forehead. All things he knew he would miss. Zoro was a person he would miss if he left.
So he admitted it, vaguely, but he admitted it. His growing attachment that was both comforting and terrifying.
"I have more to lose now…"
Zoro's eyes widened minutely, perhaps in surprise, perhaps in something else Sanji didn't recognize, but he didn't miss the subtle flush that crept up his ears, most likely from embarrassment. He really needed to stop voicing such stupidly sentimental things aloud.
"You think this is all on you?" Zoro finally asked after a minute. "You think I'm really gonna let your scrawny ass take on an army by yourself?"
The blond huffed, grateful for the teasing tone that had crept back into the mosshead's voice. "No…" he muttered sulkily. "I just wish I was able to."
Another moment of silence followed, and Sanji could practically see the gears spinning behind the swordsman's focused expression. Was he thinking of a reply? Was he planning what to say? Debating something in his head? Sanji couldn't place it, but he was nearly certain he'd see steam start to burst from the man's ears before long.
Finally, words spilled tentatively from his lips, which Sanji realized he'd been watching for perhaps a beat too long.
"That's not...why I haven't brought you hunting anyway…" Zoro said, Sanji's gaze lifting to the swordsman's eyes again, which averted in a way that contradicted his words.
"It's not…?" Sanji asked skeptically.
Zoro shook his head, but didn't elaborate, fixated on the collar of Sanji's robe. His jaw clenched resolutely before he blew out a breath through his nose and finally looked up again.
"If you wanna come with me tonight, then we'll go."
Sanji's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "...Really?"
"Yeah…"
"I thought I wasn't ready…" the blond countered, despite the strange tingling that now stirred bubbles in his chest.
"I'll make sure nothing happens to you…"
Those bubbles fizzed over with warmth. Still, Sanji tried his best to look unconvinced lest he give away his excitement.
"I saved you before, didn't I?" Zoro insisted when Sanji didn't reply. "Don't you trust me?"
Of course he did. But the admission wouldn't leave Sanji's throat, too embarrassing and too revealing. He wondered if there would ever come a day when he wouldn't have to rely on Zoro's strength. A day when he could save Zoro...
"Fine. We'll go," was all Sanji said, the blond trying to fight off the reddening of his cheeks with thoughts of the mosshead's disgusting habits. He had to remember who he was dealing with. Not to mention… "But we should eat well first."
It wasn't an answer to Zoro's question, and he could have sworn he saw a crestfallen look lingering on the swordsman's face.
Komachiyo was the beast's name, apparently, as Tama had called it.
It was rather amazing just how unintimidated Sanji was an hour later, watching Tama in the clearing, lying in the grass and giggling as she tossed cubes of raw meat into the giant dog's mouth. It was a mouth that could easily swallow five of the small girl whole, but yet the creature seemed to wear a content smile as it rolled about like an oversized puppy, its bushy tail wagging and its tongue lolling out comically as it easily flattened twigs and flowers alike.
Sanji sighed. Tama had said she'd cared for the beast since it was a baby, hence its subservience to her, and he found himself wishing the Night Beast was the same. Despite his determination to go after it that night, he knew his fears would no doubt resurface, potentially at the wrong moment.
Probably at the wrong moment…
What if Zoro got hurt because of his weakness…?
He shook his head. He had no choice but to push that thought from his mind, knowing that the first step to feeling level-headed was a full stomach. So he turned his attention back to their small fire on the edge of the clearing, where he served up a helping of the wild boar meat Zoro had hauled back, arranging it artfully on one of the clay plates Tsuru had so kindly lent him. The woman often offered them tea and lunch on long days they spent outside, but Sanji much preferred to prepare it himself, a comforting reminder of the parts of his past he did miss.
Of course, the swordsman wouldn't even notice its presentation, but Sanji wouldn't lower his own standards, topping the meat with a sauté of wild mushrooms and finally passing it off to Zoro, who merely grunted his gratitude and settled in the grass to dig in.
The blond silently thanked Tsuru again for lending him all manner of utensils as well, glad he no longer had to watch the primitive man tear into his food with the voracity of an animal. Not that chopsticks made much of a difference, but it was a slight improvement at least.
By the time Sanji sat beside him with his own food, Zoro was nearly finished.
"Did Tsuru not give you rice today? What the hell is this?" Zoro muttered rudely, despite looking quite satisfied with the taste as he cleaned his plate.
"This is how we serve meat in my country," Sanji huffed. "But you knew that."
Zoro made a face as if Sanji hadn't been cooking meals for him nearly every day when they went training. He wasn't sure why Zoro so liked to play the stupid card, but the banter it invited was admittedly enjoyable, so Sanji played along. For all they argued, he'd grown rather fond of that low-browed glare.
"I know. It's shocking that other cultures exist," the blond teased, lifting a bite to his mouth which he thankfully didn't drop. He was far more skilled with using Wano's utensils now, and thus was able to chew rather smugly.
"Now you don't have red wine here, so I couldn't make a proper marinade," he continued when Zoro ignored him. "I had to make do with adding that shit alcohol you always drink instead, but I suppose it's just as well. You wouldn't like anything else."
"And I'm supposed to know what a mari-whatever is?" Zoro shot back, mouth disgustingly full, which he washed down with an obnoxious guzzle of said shit alcohol.
Sanji resisted the urge to gag, merely rolled his eyes and looked away, focusing on his own meal before he lost it to Zoro's vile habits.
Unfortunately, he could still hear them in the quiet that followed, more gross chewing and gulping, followed by a loud, satisfied sigh before Zoro plopped his empty plate on the ground and leaned back on a hand, pulling his robe sleeve down to wipe at his mouth.
The blond said nothing, even when he felt the swordsman's eyes land on him calmly, as they often did. He didn't look up, did his best to ignore it as always, but it was becoming harder to do lately, particularly when he caught glimpses in his peripheral of Zoro's tan arm, thickly corded with muscle, or his toned chest that just left Sanji envious.
Yes, surely envious.
"Who taught you all this crazy stuff anyhow?" Zoro said eventually, Sanji feeling glad for the distraction because his eyes had flicked of their own accord to Zoro's Seal, yet again studying the mark's strangely curving lines.
It took Sanji a moment to realize Zoro's meaning until he noticed the swordsman circling a finger vaguely towards his plate of food.
Sanji had to scoff out a laugh, finally lifting his gaze to Zoro's face.
"I guess a guy from a country that eats raw fish would consider actually cooking things to be crazy," he replied, expecting annoyance in response, but Zoro surprised him with a relaxed smirk, one that Sanji felt in his chest.
"I know. It's shocking that other cultures exist," Zoro replied, grinning wider when Sanji recognized his own words thrown back at him.
He couldn't help but chuckle, genuine amusement shining through. He usually tried not to give Zoro any satisfaction when he made dumb jokes, but, for whatever reason, it was becoming more difficult the more time they spent together.
Not to mention Sanji found it far easier now to open up to the man.
So it was with little hesitation that Sanji explained, "My mother sparked my interest. We used to look at recipe books together. But she was never well enough to work in the kitchen, so I used to sneak in and learn from the staff. Back when I could at least."
Zoro gave a small snort, but not a disparaging one, the look on his face softening a bit as his eyes fell to the locks of Sanji's hair the blond felt lifting with the breeze.
Sanji's face was warm when he spoke up again.
"What about you? Where did you learn to be so…?" He gestured at the mosshead's entire person, his own face breaking into a satisfied grin when Zoro lifted an unimpressed brow.
He didn't look angry though, and the air was comfortable enough between them that, for a moment, Sanji contemplated bringing it up, what Hiyori had told him of Zoro's past. There was a good decade of Zoro's life that remained unaccounted for, and Sanji couldn't deny his ongoing desire to uncover all of the swordsman's mysteries.
But even if he himself felt more at ease opening up to the other man, it seemed there was still something blocking Zoro from doing the same when he didn't answer, just kept up that same flat look.
It was frustrating, and disappointing, to think that Zoro still wasn't comfortable enough. But he had to keep his composure. Patience may not have been one of the samurai virtues Zoro had told him about, and it certainly hadn't ever served him well in his own life, despite what his mother had often urged. But with a brute as stubborn as Zoro, it was clearly something he'd have to exercise.
But that also wasn't to say patience shouldn't go hand in hand with persistence.
"Okay, then where did you learn to wield swords?" Sanji amended, wondering if a more specific question would give Zoro less room to evade.
"Been doing it since I was six," the swordsman replied with a shrug.
"That doesn't answer the question of 'where'," Sanji pressed, his voice amiable, but his eyes betraying just a bit of his insistence.
Zoro often called him nosy for all his questions, but dammit, he'd hoped that, with time, it would pay off. Clearly, Zoro had never had this either, someone to properly open up to, so why shouldn't he try? If he'd so wanted Sanji to stay in Wano, then for what?
The swordsman stayed quiet though, for long enough that Sanji gave up in that moment, merely sighed and went back to finish off the last few bites of his food to hide his disappointment.
He had to be patient, yes, but he could admit to that small amount of pain, wondering if Zoro would ever trust him enough. Or if he'd ever learn before something happened to lock Zoro's soul away forever…
But then, a sigh from the swordsman as well, and when Sanji glanced up, Zoro's gaze was downcast, his fingers picking awkwardly at the hem of his robe.
"I have a master," Zoro mumbled with a shrug. "Who taught me. He's just...not the most...sociable. He doesn't enter the Capital. So you haven't seen him."
And though it wasn't much, Sanji couldn't help the ecstatic burst of warmth in his heart, a triumphant feeling that he tried and failed to keep off his face lest it lead Zoro to close his doors again.
Yet he couldn't stop a smile from blossoming, knowing that, no matter how small it was, any glimpse into Zoro's mind was a victory, even if he didn't quite know why.
But was it so wrong to hope that maybe he, as he was now, all flaws and baggage attached, was making his first true friend from scratch?
"Look at that, I got an answer. Only on the fifty-seventh try. Was that so hard?" Sanji replied teasingly, enjoying the way Zoro's cheeks and ears instantly reddened, the swordsman's passive expression quickly turning to a scowl.
Zoro wasn't really upset though. Sanji knew the difference by then, so he didn't have any qualms about asking another question, finishing his meal and setting his own plate aside so he could focus his full attention on the compromised swordsman.
"He gave you those swords?" Sanji asked, flicking eyes to the three blades perpetually tied to Zoro's side.
Zoro let out a breath, his gaze falling to his swords as well, fingers automatically reaching up to brush over them as they often did.
"Hitetsu forged this one," he said, indicating the sword with the deep purple hilt, dark leather criss-crossing tightly over the lacquered wood. "Sandai Kitetsu. The other two were gifts."
He didn't elaborate further, but the way his hand passed over the black-sheathed sword to linger almost affectionately on the ivory one, his clear favorite… It had Sanji wondering if there was more to their stories.
This time, he didn't press though, already satisfied with even the small amount of history he was divulging.
The blond smirked.
"Still don't know why you need three," he said. "Most samurai only need one."
"And yet one was too much for you," Zoro shot back instantly, to which Sanji's jaw dropped in mock offense.
"I thought my power was in my legs," Sanji replied, stretching one out to kick the swordsman squarely in the side. When it only elicited a series of spiteful snickers from the man, Sanji added a casual, "All the better for when I finally run the hell out of Wano."
That shut Zoro right up, the swordsman's eyes quickly sharpening, his grin falling off his face. In fact, Sanji quite liked the small panic that came over Zoro each time he so much as mentioned leaving. It always served to sober the idiot at the very least, and the blond enjoyed having at least one fail-proof method of gaining an edge.
Even if, with every passing day, the threat became more and more empty.
He'd never intended to stay in Wano for as long as he had.
But he'd also never expected to feel as safe and comfortable as he was beginning to feel.
He hadn't expected to find people who'd give a shit about him, certainly hadn't expected such a sense of belonging in a culture that was so different from his own.
Where would he even go from here? The only logical option would be to move into Goa when his father's soldiers inevitably turned their search to Wano. That hardly seemed preferable…
After all, Zoro was right, wasn't he, as hard as it was to admit it. He couldn't hide forever, even if, at Zoro's side, he felt like he could...
When Sanji spoke again, his voice had quieted some, his own doubts beginning to surface yet again, though he willed them down. He'd already let them overtake him earlier, and he was trying to be better about that. To see, not the worst, but the worth in situations. And maybe, by extension, the worth in himself.
"The beast wasn't sighted this morning," he said, busying himself with gathering up their plates. "At least, no one reported it at the palace. With any luck, it's crossed into Goa finally and can take out my father's soldiers before they get here…"
Zoro's eyes were on him as Sanji wrapped the dishes carefully in cloth for protection and stowed them back in the basket Tsuru had provided that morning.
He still seemed troubled for some reason, and Sanji wondered if it was still from his earlier comment about leaving. It was rather surprising to him, that Zoro of all people was the one to share his fears.
Of course, he might have been projecting his own assumptions. It was often hard to tell with the stoic swordsman, but, more and more, Sanji was beginning to see vulnerable moments like this as genuine.
He didn't think Zoro was sensitive, and he didn't much care about hurting his feelings, knowing the idiot would bounce back quickly, but he didn't like seeing that real stress on his face. And he also didn't like how frequently it continued to surface.
"You sure this monster's real?" Sanji asked, hoping to lighten the mood a bit as he packed up the cooking utensils as well. "Y'know, maybe I imagined it. A hunger-induced hallucination or something."
He was teasing, of course, knowing that what he'd seen had been real, as he was unable to forget it to that day, the creature's intense eyes and warm breath still haunting him each time something moved in the corner of his eye.
There might not have been reports that day in particular, but more often than not, there was a new farmer at the palace every morning with fearful complaints of trampled crops or slaughtered livestock far too close to the Capital.
And yet, where was it?
Why was Zoro incapable of tracking it now when he'd clearly been able to find it before? Would they even find it when they went out that night? Had Sanji's luck just been extraordinarily bad when he'd first arrived in Wano…?
Zoro huffed out a breath, his lips tilting up a bit humorlessly before he finally muttered, "I wish…"
Sanji knew that look on Zoro's face. It was a look that meant he was somewhere else, at least in his mind, somewhere far away.
The blond finished packing the dishes and returned to sit across from Zoro again, crossing his legs and scooting a little closer than before, his knees not far from Zoro's. His fingers wrung absently in his lap, itching with the strange urge to forcibly lift Zoro's head to meet his eye.
Thankfully, Zoro did it on his own, the swordsman looking surprised for a moment at their close proximity. But it was perhaps more surprising when, after a few heartbeats, Zoro pushed off his palm and tentatively leaned forward to be closer as well.
"Why do you want this thing dead so bad?" Sanji managed to ask, despite his mind briefly clouding somewhere around the angled line of Zoro's jaw, the small freckles that he'd never noticed before sporadically dotting his face.
Had there always been flecks of gold in his eyes?
"You know why," the swordsman said. "It's dangerous. It could hurt—"
Sanji shook his head.
"No, why do you want it dead?" he interrupted, his hand reaching out of its own accord to poke Zoro's chest. "Has it hurt you?"
He retracted his finger quickly, but Zoro's eyes lingered on the spot for a moment longer before he sighed heavily.
"It didn't used to be like this…" he eventually replied quietly, Sanji watching Zoro's brows lower, his gaze averting to the grass beside them. "It didn't cause any trouble. But then...it...lost control. I don't know how or why, but...at night, it…" He shook his head, expression darkening. "All it sees now is prey...things to be hunted. I can't stop it. Every time I think I'm close, it slips away… And I lose it."
It was a vague answer to Sanji's question, and he couldn't help but think there was more Zoro wasn't telling him. Not for the first time, Sanji wondered if the beast hadn't slipped away with more than he let on.
And yet it was strange to him, because the emotion Sanji sensed from the swordsman was hardly rage, certainly not a reaction he'd expect from someone seeking revenge.
No, it was more like defeat, something Sanji couldn't understand when Zoro met every other aspect of his training with heart and determination. He knew now that Zoro could take on the beast physically without a doubt. So what was blocking him mentally?
And at the same time, he couldn't understand why his own subconscious view of the beast had so shifted over time. Why the thought of facing it scared him for the logical reasons, but far less than the prospect of facing his family… He wasn't yet capable enough to fight either, but he was finding his curiosity over something that could definitely tear him to shreds growing.
Even at night, when he should have been terrified, lying awake in his quarters, he no longer imagined the phantom scratch of the creature's claws, nor saw its fierce eyes as something to be intimidated by. Maybe that was because, on more than one occasion, another pair of fierce eyes had occupied his mind, the same pair that looked up at him sharply when Sanji admitted, "I've had dreams about it."
That wasn't all he'd begun to have dreams about, but Zoro didn't need to know all of that.
"Surprising thing is, they weren't all bad," he settled for saying instead, watching the way Zoro's brows lowered in confusion and perhaps shock. Sanji shrugged. "It was even...protecting me, a lot of the time. From...figments of my past…"
He sighed, shaking his head slightly.
"I have no idea what that's supposed to mean," the blond admitted with a shrug, averting his gaze to pick absently at the sash belting his waist. "I know it sounds strange, but…I dunno, it makes me think maybe I could actually stand up to it now…"
It was a stupid admission, considering he'd been cowering under Tama's huge golden pet not long before, and surely Zoro knew it too, though the swordsman said nothing. Instead, Zoro's eyes replied, as they often did. He felt their gaze as intensely as if he'd physically seized him, but Sanji couldn't meet it, his own gaze landing on Zoro's Seal.
He'd nearly memorized its design by that point, those angry symmetrical strokes looking ready to burst free from their confining oval, evoking power in their own right. Sometimes Sanji thought he could recognize its design, just as he saw shapes in the clouds or the stars…
For once, he didn't feel that ugly twinge of jealousy that so often plagued him when he thought about Zoro's dormant power. Perhaps it was his responsibility to close that gap between them himself, if he so wanted to be strong.
Sanji's heart picked up speed against his will as an ever persistent question brewed in his mind. He'd asked it before...more demanded it, but this time his tone was soft, patient, as he tentatively brought eyes to the swordsman's.
"Zoro, can you...show me sometime...your Seal?" he breathed, the words coming slowly, as if that would quell a bad reaction. "Or tell me what it is…? I just…"
But, perhaps predictably, Zoro's eyes widened, his chest hitching with a sharper inhale. His lips parted, but before he could say anything, Sanji was already reeling back his question.
"I'm sorry...nevermind," he muttered, unable to stop the surge of disappointment that rushed him.
Thankfully, Tama's voice cut through the air, and Sanji was glad for the distraction when he glanced over to see the girl waving goodbye to Komachiyo as the great beast lumbered off into the woods. Its massive paws crushed undergrowth, tongue lolling, panting loudly, but soon, somehow, the creature's golden hide melted into the streams of sunlight cutting through the trees and it disappeared from sight.
Tama was coming their way, her smile just as sunny.
"He had fun!" she chirped when she reached Zoro's side, the swordsman's troubled gaze now fixed on his lap. She didn't seem to sense the tension that had washed over the two. "I'll call him to train with you tomorrow if you want! Maybe Hihimaru will come too! He can fight with a katana, you know!"
Abruptly, Zoro stood, and for a moment, Sanji expected him to storm away without a word.
But he spoke, if quietly.
"We should head back. You need to rest if we're going out tonight," he muttered, gaze flicking to Sanji's briefly, though it quickly darted away when he noticed Sanji looking at him already.
Sanji's eyes lingered, silently cursing his own curiosity. Was it not enough to let Zoro keep his closely-guarded secrets? It should have been.
But Sanji knew it wasn't mere curiosity now.
He cared. He actually gave a shit about the oaf because Zoro was the first person who'd shown him that same respect. He tried not to feel entitled to Zoro's secrets, but he'd at least expected he'd done enough to earn Zoro's trust.
It seemed that wasn't so. Perhaps he had more growing to do than he'd thought.
His disappointment redirecting to himself, Sanji got to his feet as well.
Amigasa was peaceful when they returned. Despite the villagers' muttered disdain the first time Zoro and Sanji had arrived in town together weeks ago, they were merely greeted with silence now, Zoro ignored entirely and his foreign companion barely acknowledged. The glares still came, but without the words to strengthen them, they often fell away easily when met with a glower of Sanji's own.
It seemed his reputation now preceded him as a strange presence in the kingdom. Friend of the Empress, but also inexplicably attached to the scorned swordsman, his true loyalties a mystery, but Sanji couldn't care. Orochi hadn't approached him again since their heated introduction, nor had he seen much of the man, but Sanji could swear he often felt a pair of beady, spiteful eyes watching him every time he passed a particularly dark doorway.
Most likely his imagination, and with cheerful Tama leading the way along the dusty path, it was hard to fear much.
And it was clearly hard for the villagers to remain focused on their presence for long. Living off the land gave them less time for gossip and fixation, unlike the residents of the Capital, who took far more interest in making their displeasure towards Zoro known.
Every day he saw the ingenious ways the people of Amigasa used their Seals, for food, heat, and transportation. The villagers didn't have much, but it was clear their powers brought them worth and purpose in a kingdom that seemed determined to cast them out.
And yet, Sanji heard no talk of dissent, something he was both relieved and baffled by. Sanji couldn't bear to see the Empress hurt after all she'd done for him, but he knew the discontent festering beneath the village's calm facade. He'd seen it in Orochi's hateful eyes, and certainly heard it in his voice, that grating voice that now filtered into his ears as soon as he exited Hitetsu's house, after thanking Tsuru and Tama and bidding them farewell for the day.
Zoro had stayed outside as usual, but his voice was also audible from the alley beside the smithery. Heart picking up an unsteady thud in his chest, Sanji found himself stopping, staying hidden around the corner to try and hear the conversation.
He caught the end of Orochi's sentence.
"—and that's why you're going to do it," the man said sneeringly.
"And what do I tell Hiyori," Zoro replied, sounding defiant and irritated. "Do you actually think she'll be happy if—?"
"Kawamatsu will. Besides, I'm sure Her Majesty will approve if she finds there was a traitor in her midst all along."
Sanji's stomach clenched uncomfortably, but Zoro's response was immediate, tone rising in anger. "No… No, don't even think about—!"
"Do you not want change, boy?" Orochi growled. "Or have you stopped seeking acceptance?"
"I don't want it like this! I'll earn it properly."
"Then what else have the past few weeks been for, if not to earn it properly."
Zoro fell silent for a long moment, something that set Sanji's nerves on edge before he finally replied, "I won't do it."
Sanji heard Orochi's sneer in his voice.
"Oh, but I think you will…"
"You won't make me do a damn thing," Zoro gritted out, true discomfort and maybe a little panic in the harsh words.
Again, silence followed, the blond trying hard to keep his breathing quiet, pressing his back flat against the wall of the house as if to ground himself. Orochi's feet scuffed in the dirt, his voice sounding far closer to the corner.
"Tread carefully, Roronoa," he muttered. "The captain will return one day. And what do you think he will do if things in Wano aren't as he intended…"
Feet shifted again, and Sanji had just enough time to duck back into the genkan of the house before Orochi moved back out onto the street, his ankles visible beneath the cloths barely obscuring Sanji from view in the doorway.
The blond waited, glad Tsuru and Tama had left the main room as his heart still thundered and his breaths heaved far too shakily under the lingering menace of the conversation.
What the fuck was Orochi trying to do? What was he trying to use Zoro for? No matter what, Zoro wouldn't hurt the Empress. Sanji knew that. But did Zoro have faith in himself…?
He waited until Orochi was out of sight, nothing but his footprints left in the dirt. Sanji poked his head out through the doorway tentatively, letting out a sigh of relief when the man was nowhere to be found.
He didn't waste time then, rounding the corner of the house, into the alley, where he found Zoro standing, leaning back heavily against the wall, looking just as unsettled as the blond.
Zoro's eyes flew up to meet his, wide and oddly frantic for a moment, as if Sanji had truly startled him, before they narrowed quickly and he stepped closer to growl, "You should go. Now."
Surprised at his tone, Sanji could only stumble back towards the mouth of the alley as Zoro entered his space, seemingly to herd him away with sheer intimidation alone. His energy had changed, entirely severe and almost deadly. Not since their first meeting had Sanji seen him so serious.
"Zoro, what the hell is—hey! Stop! Let go!" Sanji cried when Zoro's hand clamped onto his bicep hard, dragging him along painfully for a few steps before Sanji wrenched himself free.
He grabbed hold of Zoro's arm instead, noting the rapid rise and fall of the man's chest, and giving him a shake until their eyes finally met again.
"Zoro," he said sharply, staring until the swordsman's gaze seemed to relax, pupils dilating as he slowly came back from whatever panic had overcome him until he stood, calmer, but somewhat guilty, under Sanji's scrutiny.
Something was certainly wrong. Something about that conversation with Orochi had shaken the stoic swordsman, enough that Sanji let his own annoyance simmer down, his voice softening for Zoro's sake.
"What's going on," he pressed, Zoro's eyes having yet to leave his, anchored there as if Sanji could somehow remedy everything. "With Orochi. What does he want you to do?"
But Zoro was quick to shake his head dismissively.
Sanji huffed his frustration.
"Whatever it is, you don't have to listen to him! You're stronger than him," Sanji insisted, feeling his heartbeat pick up when Zoro didn't reply, merely continued watching him mutely.
Eventually, Zoro let out a longer breath and muttered, "You should go," a little more gently. "Wait for me at the palace. Do not leave until I come to get you tonight."
But Sanji was stubborn. He knew a diversion when he saw one, so he tightened his grip on the swordsman when he tried to pull away.
"Zoro, what's happening," he urged again. "Tell me, please—"
"Don't let anyone touch you," Zoro interrupted, his tone adamant.
"Why? What's—?"
"Anyone, especially not an old woman—long, white hair—if you see her, don't let her near you."
What? Why, for fuck's sake? "Zoro, this is freaking me out!"
"Promise me you'll stay safe until I come for you!"
"Only if you tell me what the fuck is going on!"
Zoro rolled his eyes in response, a frustrated noise escaping him. A heavy beat passed which Sanji mistook for his surrender.
"I'll tell you…" Zoro muttered, and Sanji nearly felt accomplished. But then he finished, "—after I come get you—"
"Then no deal—!" Sanji cried, releasing Zoro's arm only to throw up his own hands.
"Will you just—trust me on this?" the swordsman asked. "Please?"
Zoro's eyes were back on Sanji's, this time to enhance his plea, and Sanji was surprised to see a very real desperation there, a hint that the swordsman's panic over the matter hadn't gone away. Was it that serious? Was Orochi really planning something? He couldn't know unless Zoro told him!
Sanji hated that those dark eyes had any sway over his own stubbornness…
But, after all, he'd already decided long ago to trust the man.
He didn't say as much out loud though, merely sighed his irritation and glared at Zoro for a long moment before muttering, "Keep your word."
Sanji would get his answers if he had to pry them out of the man's stupid mouth.
Zoro looked away and let out a breath through his nose, a strangely disappointed sound, though Sanji couldn't fathom why.
But he nodded shortly in agreement.
That left Sanji with a moment to size up the other man, judging his sincerity.
Ultimately, he dropped the matter, turning on his heel and storming off to head back to the palace, leaving the swordsman where he stood in the shadows.
The way back to the Capital was quiet. Sanji had traveled it enough times now that he could do so without worry. He even knew the wooded glen where Sakanabi liked to bask, making it easier to locate the giant fish whenever he wanted to hitch a ride. He was no longer wary of doing so alone either, though he could have sworn he'd seen a certain companion trailing him. Maybe those glimpses of a lanky crane soaring low over the rice fields were just his imagination, but it was comforting to think Tsuru was watching out for him. He hadn't exactly experienced that often in his life.
Hiyori was nowhere to be seen when he made it back to the palace, so he retreated to his quarters, feeling an emotional exhaustion that he hadn't felt in a while. He found himself lying on his futon for far longer than planned, the breeze whispering through his open windows as he watched the changing light dance over the ceiling, warming steadily towards sunset. He tried not to think about what he'd overheard in the village, but, try as he might, he couldn't stop Zoro's conversation with Orochi from replaying over and over in his mind.
Eventually, Sanji was too restless to remain still, so he changed his clothes, putting on a dark, midnight blue robe, knowing the camouflage would do little to deter the beast if they encountered it in the forest, but he'd rather buy himself a few seconds of life at least.
He picked at the evening meal brought to him, forcing himself to finish all of it, even though his stomach had begun to turn itself into knots in anticipation of the night that followed. He trusted Zoro to keep him safe. He did. He'd wanted this, after all, perhaps foolishly, but he had to follow through, no matter his nerves.
By the time he left his room, having packed in his satchel some of the rice left over from his dinner, securing his sword at his hip, his heart had joined his stomach, practically doing flips in his chest. This was the time of day when he'd normally seek out Hiyori for a short training session, and surely she was expecting him to meet her outside the temple grounds. Not since the first news of Germa's troops in Goa had he bolted from the palace so suddenly. Since then, he'd apologized for his panic, always informed Hiyori where he was going.
He thought he heard hers and Kawamatsu's voices from within when he slunk by the entrance to the temple grounds… A twinge of guilt as he debated telling her he was joining Zoro's hunt that night. She might worry, and if this ended up being his last night alive, he knew he wanted to say goodbye.
But instead, he hurried past, sticking to the shadows, and made his way at dusk to the gardens where he knew the swordsman liked to lounge in the trees. They hadn't set a meeting place, but they never really did. Zoro always managed to find him somehow.
He waited, sitting on a stone bench bathed in orange light from a nearby lantern. He had no idea who lit them, the flames almost seeming to appear on their own as soon as the sun disappeared below the trees.
He waited until, finally, he heard the familiar scuff of sandals on the path, the swordsman's broad form appearing out of the darkness, stopping before him.
Sanji felt a heavy sigh brewing in the expectant silence that followed, wondering if he should apologize for his prying earlier but feeling his impatience win out, particularly when Zoro merely stood there, stoic, and jerked his head for Sanji to get up and follow him.
Sanji did, the two of them starting off down the path towards the town, walking in silence out onto the darkening streets, the usual bustle of pedestrians dispersing with the sunlight.
They walked for a good while, neither saying a word, not about Orochi or anything, Sanji's stolen glances growing more frequent, his impatience growing until finally, he couldn't take it anymore.
As soon as they reached the outskirts of the Capital, he rounded on the swordsman.
"So?"
He received a mere grunt in response.
"When are you going to explain?" he pressed.
Zoro still didn't reply, his expression completely passive to Sanji's irritation.
"I stayed at the castle; I didn't let anyone touch me, and I didn't even see any old ladies, so keep your shitty word and tell me what the hell Orochi was trying to get you to do!"
This time, he saw the corners of Zoro's lips turn up in a tiny smirk, though the amusement didn't reach his eyes, nor did the swordsman even look his way.
"Orochi needs to get the Empress' attention. We all do," Zoro finally answered, his voice low.
"Who is 'we'?" Sanji huffed.
"She is scared to integrate us," Zoro replied, almost robotically, Sanji thought. "She can't see our potential—the power we can offer Wano. She needs to see the truth of it."
The blond scoffed loudly, hardly recognizing Zoro's odd tone.
"Did Orochi tell you to say that? You know that's not how Hiyori feels."
"And are you sure you know?"
"I—" Sanji stammered. "Of course I'm sure! What does this even have to do with anything?"
"You can help us," Zoro said simply. "You will help us."
Sanji huffed. It was too much. His words were too cryptic to be conjured by the swordsman's tiny brain, and it was enough to make Sanji stop in his tracks, grabbing Zoro's arm and tugging him back to face him.
"Hey. For fuck's sake—look at me!"
Zoro did…. And his cold expression nearly sent a chill down Sanji's spine, his eyes devoid of any of his usual warmth, seeing Sanji but almost looking straight through him. Something was wrong. Something was terribly off, though Sanji didn't know what.
His hands itched to touch the swordsman's face, to coax the life back into his expression, but he refrained with difficulty.
"Why are you saying all this?" he asked instead, almost desperately. "Zoro, I told you, you don't have to listen to him! I—"
He stopped himself, letting out a heavy sigh before deciding to let go of all of his cards. If Zoro got angry with him, so be it.
"Look, I know, okay?" he admitted slowly, wary of Zoro's reaction. "Tsuru and Hiyori told me. I know that Kaido brought you here when you were young—what he—exchanged you for, but—that doesn't mean he has any hold on you. Not him, or any of his cronies o-or—" Another frustrated huff. "None of that matters now. It's a debt you shouldn't be responsible for paying. All of this—all of this was Kaido's doing. Things wouldn't be the way they are now if not for Kaido, and Kaido alone. You had no part in it."
He paused, wondering how the fuck he could get this through the mosshead's thick head before continuing.
"You told me I'm not like my father. Well, you're not like Kaido. You wouldn't have dedicated yourself to the Empress if you were. You wouldn't have—saved my life or tried to train me all this time. You wouldn't have been my—my shitty friend—if that's what you can even call this…"
His heart was in his throat, embarrassment creeping over him because Zoro still hadn't responded in any way, merely stared back as if Sanji's words didn't even register.
"Dammit, say something!" Sanji growled, giving the man a rough shake. He'd just acknowledged Zoro as a friend, for fuck's sake! Shouldn't that at least embarrass him enough to say something? Protest? Cringe? Burst into flame like he normally did? Anything was better than this silence!
Instead, Zoro leveled him with a gaze devoid of any emotion.
"You have no idea what I am," the swordsman said, his words chilling the air between them.
Then he reached up, his fingers curling around Sanji's wrist to pry his hand off his arm, his grip strong enough to bruise, his touch harsh and callous. Sanji remembered, vividly, the man's warm, trembling grasp when Zoro had pleaded with him to stay in Wano... This didn't even feel like the same hand...
The swordsman brushed Sanji aside unceremoniously and moved past, walking off with purpose towards the edge of town and the dark sea of rice fields beyond. As he left the orange glow of the street lanterns, Sanji could only stare after him, incredulous, for a few long moments until he feared he'd lose him, and not just to the dark, so he hurried to catch up, fury in his steps.
"I would if you'd just talk to me!" he growled, nothing but the glint of Zoro's three identically black-sheathed swords to act as a beacon in the moonlight as the man stepped onto a narrow dirt path cutting through the swishing stalks of rice.
He could barely register that Zoro's prized ivory sword was nowhere to be seen before he noticed, ahead of them, silhouettes moving slightly in the darkness of the fields, not deer this time, but people, clearly waiting for them.
Sanji hesitated, catching the glimmer of serious eyes when the figures turned towards them.
"Zoro, what is this?" he muttered when he finally caught up to his side. "A whole hunting party—?"
But then, his words cut off when Zoro grabbed a fistful of Sanji's robe, yanking him forward roughly.
"You talk too much," the man gritted harshly into his ear, his voice barely recognizable as his own, then he shoved Sanji ahead with enough force to send him stumbling, nearly falling to the path below.
The blond's pulse thundered in his ears, not understanding Zoro's behavior, not understanding why suddenly, things had changed and the swordsman was treating him with such contempt. He wanted to fight back, to yell at Zoro for this with genuine anger. This wasn't how they teased. This wasn't how they fought. The words they threw at each other never stung, and maybe that was precisely why he liked Zoro so much. Zoro understood, inexplicably so, where to draw the line. And even if he did push it too far, the swordsman's stupid eyes were expressive enough to betray any emotion, any regret he tried so hard to hide. Sanji knew that all too well by now.
But in that moment, there was no hint of the idiot underneath. He was acting like—
"Ah, Roronoa. Right on time. Far easier this way, wasn't it."
An ugly laugh, low and grating, and Sanji could just make out the stout, jagged form of Orochi standing ahead of them on the path, seeming to take up far more space than any other figure, despite having the shortest stature.
Sanji felt his stomach twist, not knowing where to turn when the swordsman merely stepped up silently to Sanji's side, not looking surprised in the least.
Orochi turned then, features barely visible save for a flash of teeth when he addressed another figure, that of a tall, slender woman moving closer to the path. She wore a long cape, reminding Sanji of the now tattered one he'd worn on his journey from Germa, the heavy velvet absorbing all light. Her rosy hair flipped outwards where it touched her shoulders, and her amused lips were glossy and familiar when they twitched upward into a smirk reminiscent of his own.
"Here he is, Princess. Safe and sound, as promised," Orochi said, gesturing to the astounded blond.
The woman drew closer, into the direct path of the moonlight. Her eyes, blue like their mother's, stared pointedly at him.
"Sanji. It's been a while, little brother."