Hey everybody^^ (slightly nervous...)
Yeah, I'm sorry, I think this is the longest time it ever took me to update, sorry. Real life has been really busy for some time, because I'm on a break right now before my service for the state will start and thus I had to organize a lot of things with my current work, university, and family of course (+ I got really sick inbetween for like two weeks, which was no fun)
But I wanted to take my time with this chapter, because it needed a lot of careful work beyond translation, so it just took very long and I needed like a whole day with no interruptions to focus on it. But now, that I'm on my break, I got the necessary time, and so I'm back baby ;-)
And I hope you will enjoy it^^
Thank you all for your sweet comments I got in the meantime, Thank you!
And next week I will be back ;-)
Chapter 46 – Decision
-Zoro-
Absentminded, he closed the balcony door, observed the darkness of the night for a moment, only illuminated by the light from his room, then he pulled the curtains close and turned away.
It was strange to be in a room like this in his real body, his three swords by his side but Josei far away. Now, without Dracule Senior and Dracule Junior but crammed with pomp and knick-knacks, this room seemed uncomfortably empty and noisy. Zoro usually enjoyed the silence, but right now he wished that someone would fill it.
Inside the bathroom, he tried to remember Brook's violin playing, but he wasn't really able to; music had never been his thing, but he liked when Brook played. Even the songs that every pirate or everyone from the East Blue had to know he could not recall, while the silence roared in his ears.
He should catch some sleep, Zoro decided while washing his face. The last few days had been nerve-wracking enough and Mihawk was right. He should rest until Wa No Kuni, who knew what to expect there.
I hope the others are okay.
His reflection met his gaze and even Zoro did not know what it was thinking. Water dripped down from his hair, down the forehead and bridge of his nose as well as down the temples and the cheekbones.
He wasn't too worried about Luffy. This idiot would get the stupid Cook back and hopefully Nami would bawl out at him as he more than deserved it.
But he was worried about all the others on Wa No Kuni, almost wishing he could contact them as easily as Mihawk, whose small, white transponder snail nestled against Zoro's thigh, well hidden in his pocket.
Groaning, he shook his head and rubbed his face dry. He should go to sleep and not burden himself with such thoughts. Things were as they were, complaining wouldn't help.
He grabbed his things, locked the front door, and then went to the expansive bed in an adjoining room - which was no less stuffed than the main room - and closed all the curtains in there as well. He carefully leaned his swords against the bedside table while dropping the bag on some chair before taking off his boots. He was tired.
For a moment he looked at his hands. He had... made it... he had actually made it. Slowly he realized what had happened the past few hours, and an unexpected weight seemed to fall from his shoulders. Finally, it was over. Eizen was defeated, the coup prevented. His friends knew the truth, and Zoro no longer had to pretend.
Relief flooded him. Finally, the topic of G-6 with everything that had come afterwards - Lady Loreen, Eizen, Uranos - was closed, over, history.
Finally, Zoro could just be himself. The insignificant boy from the East Blue with a big dream and a bad reputation, who had been lucky that Luffy had met him.
He laughed softly. Finally, those decisions were his again, he no longer needed to bend, adapt, hide secrets from his friends. He could just be himself, just Zoro. Roronoa Zoro, future best swordsman in the world, crewmember of the future pirate king.
He fell back and closed his eye. He was tired, too tired to get up again and turn off the light in the next room. But with his eyes closed, the single ray of light that fell through the ajar door was little more than a gentle glow, not enough to disturb his sleep.
He was tired.
I will find you and help you to remove your chains once again.
No, he just wanted to sleep now, didn't want to think about anything, just enjoy the moment, just...
What adventures do you think awaits this world?
He grumbled softly and put an arm over his eyes, trying to block these voices out of his head together with the gentle glow.
Do you think they will have fun?
He didn't want to hear these voices, these words. Zoro did not want to remember what he had seen and heard. He just wanted to sleep, nothing but sleep, as the insignificant mean pirate he was. The brazen boy from the East Blue with a big dream.
And I will follow you again, my friend.
He opened his eye. His body trembled.
You're not dead yet, wanderer. Not yet.
You don't happen to know what a wanderer is?
Wanderers are very, very old creatures.
The older the soul, the stronger its might.
It is said that wanderers carry the burden of the world on their shoulders, and therefore they are also called guardians of the world.
. I have decided that it should be my life's work to protect you, even if it may cost my life.
It explains why you follow Luffy.
I'd rather die as a guardian than to live on as a wanderer.
You are a wanderer without memory.
No matter how much time passes, I will find you.
It really seems to be fate, doesn't it?
Growling, Zoro slammed his head into the pillows. He didn't want to hear it; he didn't want to see it. All this drama, all these oh-so-big and oh-so-puffed up words! All of this had nothing to do with him. He was just some boy from the East Blue, whom Luffy had...
Hey, call me Luffy! I'll untie you if you join my pirate crew, okay?!
I am here, my Captain!
I will find you and help you to remove your chains once again.
I will call for you, my King.
Slowly he sat up, rubbed his face, his hair, had the feeling of losing his mind, like when Mihawk had first forcibly read his thoughts.
"Luffy," he whispered into the silence of the room like a mantra. "Luffy!"
Hey, Kid! Come over and untie me.
I haven't decided if I'll ask you yet. You've got a pretty bad reputation, you know?
Luffy must be the man who becomes the Pirate King!
The world's greatest swordsman, that's great! And it's fitting since your new boss is going to be the king of the pirates! Anything else would make me look bad!
No! He would not be daunted! These had been Luffys and his decisions! Whatever he had seen down there at Oarnos, that had nothing to do with them!
The world will become very loud when you and I leave.
I'm looking forward to a life full of adventures.
I'm looking for good men to join my pirate crew.
If you lose, I will kill you!
His head seemed to explode. The voices blurred with each other, drowned each other out, almost made him doubt who had said what. He didn't want to hear it, all this crap Robin or Mihawk would interpret far too much into. These were just coincidences, they had nothing to do with Zoro! Coincidences, just coincidences, nothing but coincidences.
It really seems to be fate, doesn't it? You will hardly have decided to follow him on a whim.
Sometimes I would like to believe that it was fate. But of course, I am aware that you do not believe in such things because it would mean that the path you take would not be based on your own decisions.
I decided to return to life, no matter the consequences, even aware of the consequences.
If that was you back then, why didn't you say anything?
I had no choice. I had to come back.
I wouldn't have given Zoro's swords to some stranger.
I would have come back as a toy if I had been able to protect Luffy like that.
I will search for you; your voice shall be my guidance.
"Stop it! I won't listen."
His head hurt. He sat on the bed, held his throbbing head, heard all these long-gone words, all these conversations. Why was everyone talking about fate? They had been decisions, Luffys and his decisions! All their decisions! This had nothing to do with some dead people, nothing to do with a forgotten past from ancient times, nothing to do with some cursed fate!
But it had been his decision! Every single one! To follow Luffy! To protect him! To help him! To follow his orders! Those had been his decisions!
Trembling, he struggled for air.
It had been his decision not to use his true powers against Homura, thus they had lost. To develop a plan without initiating the Cook, thus he mistrusted him. It had... it had been his decision to let all these people die. It had been his decision not to flee with the Cook, thus... he had burned.
His fingers dug into his hair, into his scalp.
He had not wanted to die! He had not wanted to die! But it had been his decision, it had been his decision! It must have been his decision! He had chosen this path, because only then... because, if it hadn't been his decision, who had decided that he had to go through all this?
"No, it was my... I decided to..."
He had decided to stay behind to die. To give up everything that made him who he was, his crew, his dream, his honor... his body.
So, anyone who is willing to pay a price could come back?
No. Most don't, not like me and the others. We are the ones who wanted to come back. Those who didn't want to let go yet.
Could you make that decision again?
I don't know. I don't know if I'll be given the choice again.
But who had decided that he would have the choice? Who had decided that he would be reborn as Lady Loreen? Who had...?
If it had not been his decision..., if it had never been his decisions, then why... why...?
"Then why am I here?" Hot drops ran down his forearms. "Why am I here after killing so many people?"
Helplessly, he looked at the dark ceiling, his hands dropped weakly on his knees.
Why him? Of all the people who had died, why him of all people? Why was he alive? Why had he of all people gotten the choice? Who had decided that he should live? That he was not allowed to die?
If all these had not been his decisions, then his simple existence right now was nothing but... fake. As if someone had glued a broken sword and put it back into the sheath, hoping that no one would notice. If some supernatural being made the decisions, then... then...
"... then I should never have survived."
Death does not scare me, but I am proud to follow you, my King.
No matter how much time passes, I will find you.
Then it had never been about him, never about Luffy, never about the crew, his friends, not even about his dream. Then all of this had happened, they had been forced to go through all this, he had been forced to do all this, not because of him, not because of them, but only... only because someone had decided so. Because he was no more than...
"... a pawn sacrifice."
And they all knew it. They all knew and accepted it. They all knew and even liked it. They knew it and were happy that someone else pulled the strings. They all knew it had never been his decision.
That's so exciting. Then it was really fate.
Sometimes I would like to believe that it was fate.
You know about your fate, don't you?
"Stop..."
No, he didn't want to admit it! Would not accept that Luffy had taken him along just because it had been predestined for them. Would not accept that everything that had happened so far, Arlong, Crocodile, Enel, Enis Lobby, Kuma... So much had happened, they had seen so many places, had met so many people, fought so many battles, made so many decisions, and none of this should have been theirs?
It was supposed to be predestined for them that Luffy had saved Zoro's life just so that he could later sacrifice himself for him? That Nami had been kept as slave by some fish men pirates for years just so they would meet? That the Going Merry had to break just for Franky to beat up Usopp? That Robin had to lose her home, just so... if none of these had been decisions, if all of this had been predetermined for them, if they had never had a choice, what was this crew actually made of? If it had never been Luffy's decision to take him along, then why had he taken him along back then?
But not only what concerned Luffy, what concerned him, the crew, his dream, suddenly his whole life was...
"Stop..."
You know that the fate of the Dracules is closely linked to that of the Roronoas?
You will seal our fate for all time!
The deeds of both of your ancestors have determined the paths of your future.
Your decision will bind my fate forever.
No matter what I do, your existence has sealed the cruel fate of my son.
See you in the next life, my little frog.
"Stop!"
He was almost startled by his own voice, could not remember when he had bowed forward again, had grabbed his head, had closed his eyes.
Now he looked at his narrow hands in the shadows, which the lonely beam of light threw through the ajar door, grasping individual strands of long hair that fell on his knees. He hadn't even noticed that he had transformed, didn't know when it had happened, couldn't remember.
Why had he transformed? It couldn't possibly be time already; he hadn't even been in his body for half a day. He had not yet felt this unpleasant twitching at all.
He was shivering all over, failing to calm his breath. He tried to transform back into his true body, but it didn't work. His heart beat faster and faster, but he couldn't... he couldn't... he couldn't...
It was this body, this body, that had been forced upon him, which was why Mihawk had taken him in, why Eizen had recognized him, why his friends had not recognized him, why he had not told them the truth. It was this body, this hated body. This body that should never have existed.
If he had never woken up in this body, he would never have known all this, would never have known what the name Roronoa meant, what a wanderer was, what a guardian was. Would never have known what Eizen had told him, what Rayleigh had told him. Would never have known what Oarnos had shown him. Would never have known what Dracule Gat had told him.
He would have followed Luffy, trusted that they were his decisions, Luffy's decisions, would not have questioned, would not have doubted, would never have doubted. At some point he would have faced Mihawk again, fought him, defeated him, perhaps spared his life, would not have hesitated, would not have bemoaned.
He would never have faced his friends with this oppressive feeling of not belonging to them, of not being able to tell them the truth. He would never have experienced this fear, never mistrusted his own decisions, never doubted his own actions.
He should never have known all this! It was a mistake! He should never have heard the truth... no, he should never have come back to life. This body was a mistake. That he knew this truth was a mistake. That he was alive… was a mistake.
His gaze fell on the swords next to the bed, so unusually quiet, way too quiet. He could not hear them over his racing heart, his trembling breath. Why couldn't he hear his own swords? Why couldn't he transform? Why couldn't he...? He couldn't...
What can you not? Do you break that easily?
Surprised, he looked up.
Nobody was there, of course. Luffy was somewhere in Big Mom's waters to rescue the stupid Cook, the others were somewhere on Wa No Kuni to help Momonosuke and Kinemon, and Mihawk was on his way back to Kuraigana to save the Five Islands from an attack by the Marines.
Then he saw what had caught his attention. It was a mirror, just behind the door, in which the shadows moved. Zoro did not want to see his reflection, did not want to see this reflection.
But for the first time, it didn't seem to be Lady Loreen looking back. The dim light of the adjoining room broke in his eyes, but otherwise the facial structures in the shadows seemed unsteady, as if his transformation was not entirely completed.
For the first time, for the very first time, Zoro could see the resemblance to his mother. Her shadow in the faint glow reminded him of something, but he didn't know what.
Who could have guessed that Roronoa Zakuro actually had a child?
Probably poisoning. What a shame; if she had been found earlier, she could probably have been saved.
As Eizen ordered, I went for her, but I was too late; she had anticipated me and decided to evade Eizen in an absolute, irrefutable way.
Who knows what other secrets died with the Queen Alciel's.
The temple, the flickering light of fire, his mother bringing to life the shadow of a dragon with her hands in front of the temple walls. She told him the legend of Hakuryuu, she told him how the dragon had formed the people of Alciel from his scales and watched over them from Oarnos' treetop.
He did not remember her words exactly, but her face in the shadow of the pillars and how the shadow of the dragon had risen from this overturned cup and flown away to pursue his true destiny, whatever it had been.
Zoro remembered that he had never liked the story because the dragon had disappeared, somewhere, to follow his true destiny, whatever it had been. Every time his mother had told him Hakuryuu's story, he had asked her if the dragon would come back at some point. That was one of the few memories of how his mother had hugged him and told him in that soft voice that he shouldn't be sad. Hakuryuu may have flown away, but he had never left his people, for they had been formed from his scales and their blood flowed through his veins.
Zoro had never understood these words and they had never calmed him down, but each time she had finished the story right away and he could still remember these words very well.
There is no need to be afraid. As long as Hakuryuu lives, no one of our people will ever be alone, Oarnos will live, and Alciel will not fall, and one day, I am certain of it, one day Hakuryuu will return, Oarnos will bloom, and Alciel will rise from the ruins.
And whenever he had been scared as a child, he had hoped that Hakuryuu would finally come. But he never had, and Zoro had been alone, at some point he had been all alone. Suddenly, he remembered her last words. Words he had almost forgotten, forgotten almost all his life, because he had been alone and because at some point he had not been alone anymore.
Whatever she said to our daughter that day, the world will probably never know. But whatever it was, my daughter was different from that day on, she took on her duties diligently.
Be on time tonight, Ren, I want to eat at dawn. And behave, do not be a burden to the workers.
Slowly he rose, ignored the pants sliding to the ground, almost stumbled over them and the boots, hardly felt loose bandages hanging down, hardly felt the pain from a fight that this body had never fought.
Due to the early and unexpected death of my wife, my son never took up his true inheritance.
And never forget, Ron, my blood as well flows through your veins, and like the dragon Hakuryuu, I will never leave you, even if I am no longer here.
"You knew, didn't you?" He asked his reflection, which of course did not answer. "You knew it all along."
Slowly he raised a fist, the much too large sleeve slipped into the crook of his arm.
"Then why didn't you tell me anything?" He hit the mirror, felt tears of anger. "You knew you were going to die. So why didn't you tell me anything?!"
If that was all why he was alive, why he was still and once again alive, as a pawn for someone or something, because someone else made the decision, why hadn't she told him?
Why all these lectures about Alciel's stories and values? Why all the lessons about morality and discipline, about honor and decisions, when none of them were his? How could he be proud of his decisions when they were made for him?
Do not regret, Ren, a Roronoa never regrets.
What should he not regret? That his life was nothing more than some cosmic joke? That his own plans, dreams, and decisions were unimportant for the big picture? What would have happened if Mihawk had killed him the past day? Would this soul guardian have simply sent him back to life? Maybe without his memories, because Zoro knew too much? Simply because they could? Simply because it was entertaining?
Shouldn't he regret all this? Shouldn't he regret that he had not been master of his own decisions all along? Shouldn't he regret that at some point he would die for Luffy, that he would be killed by Mihawk, no matter what he wanted, what his captain wanted, what Mihawk wanted?
"Do you regret dying for me?" He asked the mirror. "Or is that what we do as Roronoa? Dying for others?"
Perhaps she had never died for him, but for this other guy, this guardian.
But why? If it was his fate, if he had never had a choice either way than to fulfill this duty that someone had given him, why hadn't she prepared him one bit for it?
She had told him so much, so much about Alciel's legends, had taught him so much when he had been so young, when he had not understood most of it. Why hadn't she told him about this as well? Why hadn't she told him that Oarnos was more than just some fairy tale? Why hadn't she told him about the guardians and the wanderers? Why hadn't she told him that his whole, freaking fate was already predestined?
Mihawk's mother had done it with his sister when she had been old enough. She probably would have told Mihawk, too, if she had known that she would never live to see his sixteenth birthday.
But his mother had known, she had known that she was going to die that day. Every morning she had sent him off with the same words, only that day she had mentioned Hakuryuu and when he had come home, she had not been there anymore, her body had been there, but she had left him alone.
"Why didn't you tell me the truth?"
What a sad end it had been for a woman like her.
People today are terribly hypocritical.
No matter what I have done, fate cannot be stopped.
People these days no longer pay attention to what their helpfulness might cost them.
The deeds of both of your ancestors have determined the paths of your future.
Make sure you bear the consequences of your actions and not someone else.
Your existence has sealed the cruel fate of my son.
Be kind, be merciful, but be aware that every act can have consequences that you could not foresee.
The fate of the Dracules is a cruel life.
Make sure you will not do anything you might regret one day, that is the only way you can bear the consequences of your choices for a lifetime.
For they were the ones who had determined our whole destiny, because of which my gentle daughter and my vain son had been given no choice but to become swordfighters.
Do not regret, Ron.
But even my son apparently could not escape the fate of the Dracules.
A Roronoa never regrets their own decisions.
His legs gave in and slowly he slid along the mirror to the ground. Could it be...? Could it be that he had misunderstood his mother all this time?
Only the weak mind believes that decisions are anticipated by fate, although our decisions are the ones to determine our own fate.
We are standing here today not because fate would have it that way, but because you, I, and everyone else have made decisions in the past that have brought us here.
He looked at the shadow in the mirror as if it were a door into the past. But his mother had never cowered on the ground this helplessly, never looked at him with tears in her eyes. No, she had always been too proud for weakness and doubt of any kind. She had never complained, never whined, had made her decisions, and lived with them. She had lived as she had wanted and she...
She died the way she wanted to, as she saw fit. She died of her own free will to protect me.
How could he have believed for a single second that his mother had subordinated her decisions to some fate?
And suddenly he had to think of an argument, an argument that happened a long time ago and that he had not understood, but now he understood.
Roronoa, I think in these papers there could be clues to your past, your ancestor, your heritage...
You want to know all this nonsense about my past, you want to look for something meaningful in my meaningless story and it bothers you that I don't care.
Maybe you have a legacy that you must take on.
But I don't give a shit about this crap. I'm not going to defeat you because I'm some descendant of some great lost civilization, but because I overcome my limits every day and train relentlessly! I will not take your title because any blood of some noble ancestors flowing through my veins, but because I can and because I want to.
How shall we ever find out the truth behind your ability now?
I do not accept that all the sacrifices and efforts of the past twenty years should be of less value than the blood of some dead person.
How dare you, you stupid child?! Those were the answers! Finally, you could have figured out what your name means, who your ancestors were, why you can speak this language, maybe even why you rose from the dead.
You are the one of us who cares more about names and titles than words and deeds, and because I want your title you are obsessed with finding anything in my past that justifies that.
This is ridiculous, I know who I am, from whom I descend, whose blood flows through my veins. I bear the name of my family, the titles of my own deeds, and the heritage of my ancestors.
I know exactly who I am, Mihawk, and unlike you, I do not define myself by any names and titles, but only by my deeds, only by whether I meet my own demands, whether I can proudly face my reflection.
Now he understood.
His mother had taught him everything he needed to know, and more. She may had died, but she had never really left him alone. In all his words, all his thoughts, all his deeds, she was there, but he hadn't seen it.
I know exactly who I am.
A Roronoa never regrets their own decisions.
"I'm Roronoa Zoro," he whispered to the dark room.
Then he shook his head, took a deep breath, and squared his shoulders.
"I am Roronoa Zoro," he said, "the future best swordsman in the world!"
He got back on his feet, hindered by his annoying clothes and the even more annoying bandages.
"I'm standing here because of my choices, and I don't regret any of them!"
Then he looked at his reflection, but neither Lady Loreen nor his mother looked back, but simply his own shadow, just himself.
He couldn't even remember when he had transformed back into his body. It had never happened unintentionally, he always had to force the transformation into his true form. His body did not hurt – apart from the bruises of the fight – this unpleasant feeling of exhaustion was missing. On the contrary, he felt... good. He was tired, as tired as before, but finally – finally – his muscles relaxed, and it seemed as if he was able to breathe properly for the first time in ages.
Now he understood what he had forgotten. Not to be protected by others, not to trust others. No, in the fight against Homura he had doubted his decisions, during the escape he had doubted his decisions, when he had been buried under the tower, he had doubted his decisions.
That's what he had forgotten, to trust his decisions, to trust himself.
Do not regret, Ron.
"I have no regrets," he said, knowing it was true, that this time it was finally true.
Yes, his decisions had caused a lot of suffering, for countless innocent people and their families, as well as for his friends and himself, but only thanks to his decisions his friends had survived, he had gotten to know Mihawk as more than just a rival. All his decisions had led to this moment here. All of them had been his decisions.
"I have no regrets."
…
Ring-ring… ring-ring