Sanji had lit a cigarette when Zoro returned to the room, had tipped his head back against the pillar and was contemplating the ceiling. Zoro glanced up and saw an intricate tile mosaic, which he imagined had some deep spiritual significance if you were a lunatic priest. He took a seat on the floor opposite the blond, crouched with his back to the wall and watched him smoke. "So that doesn't count as food or drink?"

"Thank fuck." Sanji exhaled a long white plume. "You think I could bargain for cigs to pass as third death? Death by nicotine. I could do that."

"You do it great already." Zoro folded his arms over his chest. "You sure it's a good idea, smoking now? Won't it dry you out or something?"

Sanji rolled his eye. "A stupid priest asks you to stick around and you turn into a goddamn nursemaid. You wanna fluff a pillow for me, while you're at it? Maybe peel some grapes?"

"You are such a prick."

"That's all?" Sanji arched an eyebrow.

"Besides, you couldn't eat the grapes anyway."

"What a comeback." Melodramatically he pantomimed a stab to the heart. "Stick to swinging the pointy things, swordsmaster. You're just not up to witty repartee."

Zoro glared at him irritably, fingers playing on one katana's hilt. "Get up and I'll show you repartee."

"Nah." Shifting his cigarette to the other side of his mouth and blowing out smoke around it, Sanji tucked his arms behind his head. "Need to conserve my strength."

He smoked slowly, burning the butt down to a finger's width before stubbing it out on his metal case. Zoro watched him open it, hesitate and snap the case close again without taking out another cigarette, returning it to his breast pocket and putting his hands back behind his head instead.

"Hey," he asked the cook. "What is third death?"

Sanji shrugged, shoulders rising and falling under his dark jacket. "Don't know."

"They didn't tell you?"

"They told me a bit, just the general idea, nothing specific. Part of the psychology of the ceremony, you know, keep everyone in awe. The mystery of sacred rites and all that. I'll find out tonight." He sat up, a quick, restless motion, broad hands curling around the edge of the bench. "Zoro, just get out of here. You heard the priest. Attendant's not a formal position, they won't say anything if you walk out."

"They won't say anything whatever I do," Zoro remarked. "Pretty damn laid-back, around here."

"Exactly."

"Except they seem serious about this ceremony."

"It's just ritual. They don't even have the guts for a real execution. This is gonna be a walk in the park. A picnic."

"Without food or water."

Sanji leaned back, casually flicked his hair out of his eye. Zoro wondered if he realized how obvious the effort he was putting into his relaxation was. "What's a religious ceremony without a fast? If you're really that worried, you could go hunt up Chopper to attend me."

"Who said anything about worried?" Zoro growled. "I'm just trying to figure out what you're going to do without the food. What good's a cook with nothing to cook?"

"As much good as a swordsman without his swords."

"Yeah, but they let me keep those. Which is the other reason. In case you decide you want to blow this place after all, they'll be as useful as Chopper."

"I'm not leaving," Sanji said, flatly.

Zoro studied his fixed features. The guy could act like such a flighty jerk that it was easy to forget how damn stubborn he could be. "That high priest Whosis told me about 'the only other way'. What they'd do to the priestess."

"They're serious. They'd really do it. And ceremonial death wouldn't cut it, either, it'd be the real deal for her."

"So for some spoiled pristine priestess...hope however you 'touched' her was worth it."

Sanji's gaze was distant, though not with the usual lovesick haze. "If I'd known..."

"Never mind," Zoro said. "I don't want to hear it." Listening to Sanji's praises of women counted among the top ten most boring conversation topics in the world. He much preferred going at it with the guy with his swords, but he could understand Sanji's point about conserving his energy. Probably a good idea. On the other hand, if Sanji was raving about women, he wouldn't notice if Zoro put his head down and grabbed forty winks. Hell, get him on that topic and he probably wouldn't notice this tower falling down around his ears...

"It's only three days."

Zoro looked over at his crewmate. "Eh?"

"Three days. What the hell do you think they can do to me, in just three days?"

"Dunno." Zoro shrugged. "Guess if I stick around I'll find out."

"You think I'm that weak?" There was a challenge in that languorous tone, an anger that he was used to confronting as physical attacks. As only a question it was harder to block.

"I think," Zoro said slowly, "that it can take less than a second for a man to die."

"Eighty-five days wasn't enough."

"What?"

"Eighty-five days should've been enough to kill me, but I didn't die. Me or the damn old man. And I'm stronger now. Just three days, and I'm already on the second death. This'll be a picnic. Go away, Zoro. I don't need you." That wasn't his usual sniping; his expression, his voice, all were dead serious.

The blond head wasn't bowed, but it was still too damn close to begging. Zoro stood, levering himself to his feet with his swords. "I'm gonna go walk around this place, since they said I could."

"Get one of the priests to show you the exit. You'll never find it otherwise."

"I'll see you later," Zoro replied, and pushed aside the screen.

* * *

Word travels fast in a temple, judging by the way the various priests and acolytes and whatnot looked at him when Zoro walked by. He wasn't quite sure how to interpret those looks, which were different from either the guarded expressions of those who knew his reputation as pirate hunter, or the nerves of those who recognized his swordmastery from his blades and bearing. They didn't really look fearful, or angry with him. Curious, perhaps; a couple of the glances even looked impressed, by what, he had no idea. He hadn't shown any of his skill.

He wandered until he found himself outside, in the gardens surrounding the towers. Being in the city's center, as he recalled, the temple's grounds weren't that large, but the high hedges and winding paths were enough to lose all the people flocking to the temple. He found an isolated circle where few seemed to have walked, judging by the undisturbed, neatly raked gravel, and set to working out. There wasn't much around to allow for a vigorous routine, but he did a few hundred sets of push-ups and curls before taking out his swords and going through his first half dozen kata, double-time, then half-time, and holding himself back was as always as difficult as pushing for speed.

He finished with a triple downward slash, flipped the blades back into their sheaths and drew a deep breath, then heard the clapping behind him. Turning, he found three watching him wide-eyed. Two boys and a girl, perhaps just entering their teens, no caps on their red and brown curls and dressed in acolyte robes. They held rakes and trimming knives, but apparently swordplay was more interesting than their duties. He nodded to them, and they jumped, flustered, staring at his sheathed swords.

"What?" he asked, pulling one katana as example. "Haven't you ever seen a blade before?"

"Of--of course, sir," one of the boys said. "Just--the guard doesn't come often to the temple when they're on duty..."

"I have," the girl whispered, but the other boy--from the matching blue eyes and red hair, her brother--nudged her quiet.

"You're with him, aren't you?" the boy asked instead, boldly. "The sinner, you're his friend?"

"Kind of. We sail together," Zoro said. "We're crewmates."

This revelation brought more consternation to their faces, and a brief whispered conference that resulted in the brother asking, very cautiously, "Sir, there's stories...some people have been saying...you're pirates."

Zoro nodded. "Yeah, we are."

He couldn't help but grin a little as their eyes expanded to about the size of cocoanuts, gawking at him in terrified amazement. Sheathing the sword, he said, "Don't worry, though. We're not that kind of pirate."

"But--but you can't be!" It burst out of the girl. "Pirates can't come here, Lonlin--I mean, the priestess, she would've warned us, the goddess always tells her when there's danger, so we can--"

"That's why he did it, to stop the priestess!" the other boy cried, and then they all shut up, cramming their hands over their mouths as if they could stuff the words back inside.

Zoro sighed. "Look," he said. "Sanji--that sinner--he wasn't trying to hurt your priestess, or corrupt her, or anything like that. He's an idiot but he wouldn't do anything to hurt a woman. That's why he said he'd do this ceremony thing--you guys know about that, right?"

They nodded, still huge-eyed with their fists to their mouths. "Tonight--" the boy who wasn't related started to say around his, then stopped abruptly.

"We're not here to hurt anyone or steal anything," Zoro told them. "Our captain isn't into that kind of thing. We're just visiting; as soon as our Log Pose resets, we'll be off again, after Sanji's done with this thing. We didn't mean to have anything to do with your priestess or your goddess, it was just a mistake."

They looked at least partially convinced, their timidity decreasing from, say, Chopper's level to Usopp's. Before they could say anything, a low tolling sounded, three long, ringing gongs. The kids jumped up. "Supper!" "We gotta prepare the tables!"

"Are you coming, Mr. Pirate, sir?" the brother asked respectfully.

"Sure," Zoro said, and followed them down the path.

* * *

Dinner wasn't as tasty as anything served on the Going Merry, but the stew was thick and hearty and there was plenty of toasted brown bread, and even a dessert of spiced baked apples. It was a good deal quieter, too, despite the rows of people at the long tables, all in religious robes. He wasn't sure if the hush was normal, suspected it might not be, from the eyes he felt on him all through the meal. Everyone seemed preoccupied, and not just because of the presence of a stranger.

Zoro, even as he chewed and swallowed and served himself more, found he couldn't quite get out of his head the image of the damn cook, probably still sitting there, nothing to do but wait and stare at the ceiling. Of course it wasn't like he were Luffy; a skipped dinner or two wasn't going to bother him that much. But still, he wondered if the smells from the basement kitchen would rise as high as that tower room. Sanji, being Sanji, probably could tell every ingredient in the stew from the scent.

He knew better than to steal a crust from the table. Even if the priests didn't notice, Sanji wouldn't eat it anyway. Zoro knew that because he knew he wouldn't himself. Not if he had given his word.

Near the end of the meal, before the plates were cleared away, everyone stood at once, responding to some unknown signal. Zoro hastily swallowed the last bite of apples and rose as well, as he saw the high priest--who had sat in the middle of the tables with all the others, as if his fancier garb made no difference--climb to the raised platform at one end of the room.

He raised his arms, needlessly, because the quiet murmurs had died to nothing as he mounted the stage. "The ceremony of the Seven Deaths began this afternoon," he announced, plainly worded in his sonorous baritone. "I observed the first death, and the second death. Tonight is the third death. In an hour we all gather at the fountain."

Zoro caught the arm of the priest he had sat beside, a stout, middle-aged man. "This third death, what's it about?" he muttered.

The man blinked at him. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's not for me to say."

"The sinner can tell you," the high priest said, coming up behind him.

"He didn't know."

"Afterwards," the bearded priest explained. "I go to bring him now. Would you wish to return to the gardens, or your room?"

"I'm not allowed at the ceremony, right?" Zoro stretched his arms. "The room, then."

The high priest nodded and lead him up into the halls. "We'd prefer you stay there for this ceremony. It will be in the main courtyard, and should you come we'd have to stop you. Or at least attempt to," he amended, looking at the trio of swords at Zoro's hip.

Zoro held up his hands. "Sanji's agreed to go along with this. I won't interfere. I'll stay in the room."

The sun had set and the room was shadowed in twilight's purple when the priest opened the screen. Sanji must have heard them coming; he was standing before the door, waiting. His eyes narrowed hatefully at Zoro's entrance, but he said nothing, just strode forward at the priest's gesture.

"Hey," Zoro said as they passed, "uh, good luck?"

Sanji's lip twitched. "Don't stay up on my account, attendant," he said, and then the silk screen slid closed again.

"Yeah, right," Zoro muttered. "Bastard." He stretched out on the narrow bench, rolled until he found a comfortable spot on the cloth cover, and pillowing his head on his arms, fell asleep. If there was a momentary reluctance, he put it out of his thoughts fast enough. The damn cook could take care of himself; he was just here for curiosity's sake.

to be continued...

So people are interested? Cool! Demeter - friendship is my favorite thing, my kryptonite. Explains why I fell as fast and hard for One Piece as I did... Kaeera - the word you wanted was "rivalry", but gotta say I love "rivalship" - even if it's not a real word, it so exactly describes what Zoro and Sanji have! And Eike, don't stay in the shadows, come out in the light! Glad you liked the last story, too ^_^

Not much happened in this chappy, but I'll be posting the next one soon...