Chapter the Third- Unfair Advantages

It was rather…awkward.

There were a lot of things he could stand, but sitting up in a woman's bed with a man's hand supporting your back whilst being fed by the same bastard's other hand, well.

…Yup. This was on his 'Things to never do again' list for sure.

There was an embarrassed silence between them. The cook's sharp tongue had been stilled for reasons unknown, the only sound coming from the clink of porcelain on porcelain and the more or less silent sound of him chewing. The silence became more and more enveloping until he wasn't sure whether or not the cook was still breathing.

"Gochi-sousan. Thanks for the meal." His stomach had quieted down considerably. If only the cook had remembered to bring some sake, he wouldn't have to worry about sleep for a while coming, and her face would have to wait until another night.
"Nothing doing. Chopper said no sake." Sanji was pretty good at reading his mind.

He sighed and tried to slip back under his bedsheets, doing so with pain and discomfort. Sanji's hands were forced once again on his naked chest and back to guide him down. Sleep claimed him immediately, his entire body exhausted from the base effort of sitting up.

It was her face. Never had it been her face before- it had been her voice, her body; not the sharp creases between her eyes, the harsh words from her lips, the flush on her cheeks. It was different.

He reached out for her. Her smile shone through the aqua fog, the colour of dream. He was a child again, the powerful muscle he had grown accustomed to had receded significantly. It was for that reason he had always lost.

Two thousand and two losses in his life. And he had lost two thousand and one times to her.
"Zo-ro…"
Though she tormented him every night, it was a fresh horror every time he saw her body, naked and tempting. A siren of pure memory.
"Zoro, help me…"
That was different.
"I can't get up! Zoro, where are you?"
It had never been this way before. His tiny legs began to canter over to where she lay.

…My God.

It was night again, at the dojo. He was standing at the top of a flight of stone stairs; she lay at the bottom. A trail of blood lead to her tiny body.
"Kuina?"
"Zoro? Is that you?"
He half-fell down the stairs two at a time, careful not to slip on the still-wet blood.

She lay still as silenced night. Her raven hair that had caught the moon's light (and his eyes) once below a time was matted with coagulated blood from the force of the blow; her arms and legs were twisted at odd angles. At her side lay the Wadou, the pure white sheath covered in syrum from Kuina's mangled corpse."Zoro…I'm going to die, aren't I?"
"Don't say that. You're not going to die. I won't let you."
"I can't move, Zoro…help me…"
He reached out for her, but his fingers slipped through air.
"My back, Zoro, my back feels broken…"

He woke with the scream still half-lodged in his throat; a painful but necessary procedure. He couldn't have his nakama hear him and discover his hidden fears.

The pieces were beginning to fall together. He had just witnessed Kuina's death, her fateful trip down the stairs that claimed her forever. He felt sick. So much blood, so much pain and such a young, beautiful girl who didn't deserve it in the least.
It wasn't fair.

The sun was beginning to rise. Reflex tried to roll him out of bed to begin the day's training, injury registered him powerless to do so. He was left alone to mull over the meaning of the nightmare from only moments ago.

It had been different than usual. She had been hurt, dying. And he was powerless to do anything to fix her. To save her life. To heal her broken back.
…Her broken back.

…He had broken his back.

The scream that had almost found its death came back to life.
He was suffering from the ailment that had killed Kuina.

A cold sweat was pouring down his forehead. It couldn't- wouldn't-

Heavy footsteps down the stairs preceded the bastard cook, who had come to check on his patient. Sanji burst into the room, Zoro freezing in his position as soon as he realized what had just happened.
"What the hell? D'you know how early it is? Honestly, didja have a nightmare or something?"
"Shut up."
"Does this have something to do with Kuina?"
"Shut UP!"
"…The hell! I'm just trying to help!"
"Go help someone else. I don't need your shitty help to—"
The fish that Luffy had caught some twelve hours ago was in fact still alive at that precise moment and, when faced with the decision of making a leap for freedom or being served for breakfast, chose the lesser of two evils. This, of course, caused the tiny caravel to pitch violently.

Fortunately for Zoro, he was tightly bound in his bed. Chopper had been back earlier in the night and had confirmed that the sheets were tucked in as tight as possible to stop him from moving. Unfortunately for both swordsman and cook, the blonde was thrown onto the bedridden.

There was silence for a moment. Aware only of the pain of having a human thrown on top of you and not of which specific human it was, a cry escaped his lips. The pain was horrendous, suffocating, and everything else faded to a hell of pain and nothing.

Quite suddenly, his cry was stopped. His mouth was being blocked. He opened his eyes tentatively and reflexively tried to reach to his waist, for a sword, for anything. His arms wouldn't move.

With strength unnoticed in battle due to his stubborn refusal to ever dirty his hands, the cook's long arms had him pinned down to the bed to keep him from moving. Sanji's loose blue dress shirt so close to Zoro's bare chest that he could feel the material as though he was wearing it himself.

The cook's mouth was inside his.

Unable to resist because of his condition, Zoro closed his eyes and tried to avert his attention to better things. Training. Fighting. Kuina. Anything. After minutes drawn to hours, Sanji let up.
"What the hell was that for?"
"To get you to stop screaming. And 'cause I felt like it."
"Bastard. You trying to fuck around with me?"
Sanji got up. "Maybe. I have the advantage, you know."

Life was unfair.