Past Golden Years: Zoro
Roronoa Zoro, aged 63 and publicly acknowledged as the world's greatest swordsman, did not have a fixed routine- as others would have loved to believe- on how to spend the anniversaries of the death of his best friend and captain: Pirate King Monkey D. Luffy. It was not that he did not try to arrange some event that would occupy him on that day, but every year, when he tried to visit his former captain's grave or go to that abandoned old house he semi grew up in in the forests of Goa island or even head over to Laugh Tale- where he had supposedly spent his final moments, something had always happened to stop him. It had ranged from horrible weather, even by New World standards, to sudden visits from the marines, to he himself just plain forgetting. And after six consecutive years of unsuccessful attempts to reminisce with the lingering ghost of his friend, he had stopped trying to.
Luffy's parting words had actually been 'to not miss him since he wasn't going to die' so Zoro supposed the incidents that stopped him from paying respects to his departed friend was Luffy's stubborn will influencing the world.
As a result, he spent those anniversaries doing what he did every other day; which was anything that caught his fancy, really.
This particular year, he woke up with the urge to fish. So, carelessly informing the ghost woman of his intentions, he tossed her the key to the Dojo's main entrance and uncaringly ambled off to find a fisherman who would lend him his boat.
A few hours later, as he sat on the bench in the fishing boat a few hundred meters away from shore, pole in hand, and the content of his half-filled bucket being eels, seaweed, crabs and some very suspicious looking lingerie, he very pointedly decided to not cheat with Observation haki and started to make his way back to shore.
On the bank of the sea, he started going through his catch, arranging them into three small piles depending on their category which was: 1) eat now 2) take back, and 3) rubbish. He was wrapping a particularly long eel around the 'take back' pile when he felt her presence show up behind him.
"Small catch today again, huh?" she spoke first, as she usually did. It was her way of greeting him on days like this.
"Hmn." He gave a noncommittal noise in response. It was his way of returning the greeting.
"You know," she said, walking to stand beside his sitting form, "if you used haki, you'd get a much better catch."
He glanced up from his work to look at her briefly before going back to wrapping that eel in a perfect coil around the pile. This was a dance.
"I would." He paused, knowing she would raise her brow, waiting for him to continue the sentence. "But that would defeat the purpose of fishing."
"Hmmn," she hummed, "but you would get a lot of fish that way, no?"
"Yes. And I would lose the experience in exchange."
"I wouldn't know…" she tapered off.
Zoro grunted.
"What do you want, Tashigi?"
And their opening dance ended.
She turned to look at him fully and Zoro could now see the deep, thin, jagged scar that ran from her hairline through her eye, down past her cheek, just barely skirting her lips and down her jaw on the right side of her face. He had been the one to give her that scar for which in return, she had gifted him with a similar scar to Mihawk's just below the former, following its angle and ending two-thirds the length of the first. Their rivalry had been at its peak during the time that fight had happened.
She smiled. "What? I can't come see an old friend?"
But now it had cooled.
Zoro snorted in response before carelessly throwing a strip of freshwater kelp onto the growing 'rubbish' pile.
"Don't you have work to do? Pirate hunting?" she didn't, he knew. But he asked. That was how their dance always went.
"That's old. I'm old. I should've retired since. Smoker-san has been living off the government for years now, and here I am, still wearing this heavy coat."
"Clean Justice, eh? Yeah, sounds really heavy."
He knew she would retire soon; she had been dropping hints in their monthly conversations about it for some time now.
"Maybe you're just staying because you want the kids to not forget your legend. You know; clashing against the strongest swordsman and not losing… miserably."
Yet he still teased her. It was the way their dance went.
"Hm? Yeah, maybe. You're still sporting that scar aren't you? True legend I made." She twirled.
"Hardly, I've been scarred by a lot. They are not legends, though." He let her fall.
"But, indeed, a scar like this? On me? Noteworthy achievement for anyone." Then caught her.
"Heh," she scoffed. "Talking big again." She pulled away. And when he made no response, it was an indication that this round had ended.
A few minutes of silence later and he spoke up again.
"You can come help me knock some discipline into those brats from time to time."
It was an invitation.
"That crazy dojo of yours? Yeah maybe. Can't have the lawless zone become more lawless, can we?"
She took his hand, and the dance started all over again.
When Perona came looking for him later that evening, he invited Tashigi along for dinner. He didn't need to- she would have come anyway, but it reduced the arguments between the two when it was he doing the invite.
As they walked through the districts; three legends past their prime, people moved out of their way and gave Zoro the peace needed to think as he stared into the black polished surface of Yoru strapped onto Perona's back.
In the end, Luffy's anniversary was a very normal day like he had come to expect, and dinner was a roasted eel and barrels of rum.