AN: Aaaaand Part 2 is ready to be released. Three years have passed since the last part.

This story is now going to be made up of 4 parts, each part being a different stage of life. I do apologise of Zoro seems a bit out of character here. I'm taking the angle that as a thirteen year old boy, he wouldn't be quite as self-assured as he is in the future. (Don't worry; it's coming though)

I had a little too much fun writing the first section of this chapter. More dojo scenes will follow in the next.

I hope you enjoy!

Part 2: 13-14

It takes Zoro three more years to feel comfortable taking food from breakfast to have for lunch. It isn't that he doesn't feel like he belongs here; he accepted his identity as a student of the dojo very quickly and his sleeping space there within a few months of being told he was not just allowed but expected to stay. He is not just a student here; he is one of the best. Even before his promise to Kuina, he owed Sensei that much from the moment he lost that fight.

Zoro works harder than anyone. He earns his place here. He earns his keep.

But there's just something about taking food he doesn't strictly need that feels wrong. Like it withholds something from others who might need it. Like he doesn't have a right to it. Like he is overstepping his bounds and taking more than he is permitted.

He knows that isn't true. Some of the other boys eat far more than they actually need. He's seen others stuff things into their clothes for later. He's watched the cooks throw away leftovers along with food that is no longer at its best, even though it could probably be eaten.

He tries to leave before the plates are collected so he doesn't have to see. It makes his stomach flutter and growl, despite being neither hungry nor sick. That also means he misses his best chance to salvage any of those leftovers.

In the end, he doesn't even make the choice himself.

It is already a warm day when he drags himself to breakfast. The sun has risen already, which means he's overslept, but it is a rest day for them today and every other boy in his room is making the most of the opportunity to sleep in. He manages to sneak out without waking any of them and passes nobody on his way.

When he arrives and settles at the table, he immediately receives a bowl of rice and some cooked fish. Already, it is almost too hot for him to want to eat it. Sensei isn't there, he notes, but a few of the older students sit apart from him. They're loud enough by themselves that they barely notice his presence.

He eats quickly so he can sneak out to train by himself before anyone tries to intercept him.

"U-um, Zoro-san?"

He almost chokes on his last mouthful of rice.

The boy standing in front of him looks almost as shocked as he does. Wide brown eyes meet his then drop down immediately. In his hands is a bento box wrapped in cloth, which his fingers toy with nervously. Zoro knows him, remembers his face but not his name.

This is the new boy, about his age, who was given kitchen duty a week or so ago after making a mess of the storeroom.

Zoro hasn't paid him any mind. He isn't here to make friends; he's here to become the world's greatest swordsman. This boy doesn't seem to even want to be a good swordsman. Whatever it is Sensei has them do, he is always one of the first to leave.

But he is new and Zoro's not enough of an asshole to make the boy unwelcome if he has a question he needs to ask. He looks at the new boy and nods to show he's listening. "Yeah?"

"You - I've noticed - you don't come in for lunch. Hotaru-san told me you uh - you're training all day? So..." He wrings his hands.

Zoro raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, I am. It's not worth the time to walk back."

He doesn't know why he feels the need to justify it but the boy's hand is shaking and there's a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. Zoro is aware that the others frequently call him a monster - he assumes it's mostly due to his combat abilities and not out of fear of him - but it seems this boy has got the wrong idea.

"That's - that's not good. Lunch is important."

The boy's face reddens. He thrusts the bento out towards Zoro, once again meeting his gaze then looking immediately away. He's still shaking like Zoro might summon a sword from the air and cut him down where he stands.

"So I'm told," mutters Zoro, with the air of a long suffering soul. Which he is. Because Ruri is relentless. And he already wants to take a nap just thinking about whether they're going to have this conversation again today.

"Aren't you going to take it?" says the boy. "It's - I promise it's good."

There is the vaguest hint of a nervous smile on the boy's face, though his hands are still shaking.

Zoro stares down at the offered bento like it is a picture in a book. It looks just like it belongs in one. "I'm supposed to take it?"

The boy nods decisively. "It's your lunch," he says simply, then wavers. "It's – you really should take it – I – I mean… if you don't want it…"

Zoro takes it before the boy can keep babbling. "I didn't say I didn't want it."

The boy stops mid word, his mouth hanging upon for a forgotten vowel before widening into a grin. For the first moment since the conversation began, there is no tension in his shoulders and he seems at ease.

Slowly the nerves creep back in. "O-oh, okay. Well, I - I hope you enjoy it. Let me know if there's anything you want done differently."

Let him know? Zoro frowns. Why would he need to do that?

"Wendel!" shouts a sharp female voice.

The loud boasting and backslapping from the other side of the room ceases abruptly. A collective shudder passes through all inhabitants of the dojo. The new boy – Wendel, his name is Wendel – straightens like a rod struck by lightning.

Despite knowing that there's no way that the new boy could have scraped together a bento without the head cook knowing, Zoro sets it on his lap, hiding it under the table.

"Ah - c-coming, Sato-san!"

As all eyes converge on the boy hurrying back towards the kitchen, Zoro tucks the bento into his shirt and slips out of the door unnoticed.

It takes Zoro longer to arrive at his favourite training spot than he would like. It's already too warm, even though it's overcast. He's probably eaten too much for breakfast because he can still feel the warm weight of rice in his belly. It's not unwelcome but it slows him. And the paths keep moving so it's nearly midday by the time he finally reaches his destination.

He doesn't see Ruri as he sets the bento under the shade of a nearby tree - one that Ruri likes to sit in to torment him because she knows he isn't going to climb up after her. He wonders briefly if summer has started now. She doesn't visit him in the summer, says it's too hot and she burns easily under the sun. She blames her red hair but Zoro knows that really, it's her pale skin.

Selfishly, he hopes she does come today, so he can rub his lunch in her face. Literally perhaps because she is always complaining that she's hungry. As though it's his responsibility to care for her. As though he invites her to join him.

But for now, he's wasted enough training time. He splashes his face with cold water from the river, picks up the nearest boulder and begins his usual routine with more than his usual enthusiasm.

Two hours later, he throws his boulder aside and himself in the river to cool down. The water is still cold and the current provides extra challenge to what would otherwise be a gentle and leisurely swim.

When he pulls himself out, he almost falls back in. Ruri is sitting in a tree opposite him, the lowest branch this time, legs crossed primly as she observes him. Her lips twitch with amusement.

"Ruri!" he shouts furiously. She's been sitting there silently specifically to surprise him.

"What?" she says. "I did call you but you were too busy doing your best shark impression."

"I was swimming," he says trying to look unbothered even though he knows what's coming next.

"Did the mighty predator catch any fish?" she says, making a snapping jaw motion with her hands.

You try to catch a fish for lunch one time.

"I was swimming," he replies, blatantly ignoring the way his cheeks start to heat up. "And I would have caught something too if you hadn't been scaring all the fish."

She throws back her head and laughs, swinging her legs back and forth. Her body rocks. Her hands are folded in her lap, unbothered about stability.

Zoro looks away, fighting down the uncomfortable roll of his stomach. He's just hungry. That's all it is. Ruri is fine up there. Even though she's thirteen or fourteen now (he still hasn't asked) and not nine, so she weighs considerably more than she used to. She's up there all the time and she's never fallen. Not once.

He can trust her. If he doesn't look, he can pretend she's safely on the ground.

He hears, rather than sees her jumping down. Even though he can't control the way he immediately turns to look, to check she's alright, she is already straightening up by the time his eyes find her.

"How could I possibly scare the fish from dry land?" she says and leans back against the tree where the breeze doesn't touch her.

"They heard your stomach growling and thought some hungry beast was coming to eat them," he says, wringing the water out of his shirt.

"You were coming to eat them," Ruri remarks.

"I wasn't the one complaining about being hungry," Zoro retorts.

His stomach gurgles before she can reply. She raises an eyebrow, the corners of her lips twitching. He folds his arms over his chest and glares.

"I'm not –" he starts to deny.

She splutters out a laugh, doubling over, arms gripping at her sides. "I don't need lunch!" she says between giggles, putting on a different voice. "Two meals a day is fine! I had a big big breakfast! I never complain about being hungry!"

"I don't!" he hisses. "And I don't sound like that."

"No, your stomach provides you with backing vocals." Ruri sags against the tree, theatrically wiping her eyes. She slips down the trunk and ends up sinking to her butt at the base. "Oh, that was too good. Hey, maybe you could try catching the fish with your mouth and save on time preparing and cooking them?"

He stomps over to his bento, still tucked away at the base of a different tree, grabs it by the knot in the fabric and then returns to her, waving it in front of her face.

Ruri scrambles to the side before he can drop it on her, laughter turning to alarm. He freezes; had she thought he was going to hit her?

Only once she's out of bento range do her eyes focus on what was about to fall into her lap. She speaks as though her overreaction never happened but her legs are only half folded and she has one foot underneath her, ready to jump up if she has to.

"Is that a bento? You made lunch?"

The dumbfounded expression on Ruri's face makes Zoro want so desperately to take credit for this just to see how she reacts. But honesty is important. This is not his work. And he just wants her to sit down properly and relax.

"I brought it with me," he answers. "One of the other students made it."

"For you specifically?" says Ruri.

He settles carefully into a sit and begins unwrapping the bento box with a reverence that ordinary items do not usually receive from him.

"Yeah," he says.

And with that, the remaining tension drains from Ruri's body. She pitches to the side, tucking her legs in and leaning one hand on the ground to support herself as she peers into his bento while maintaining a respectable distance from him.

"Aaaww," she says. "You made a friend."

He gives her a pointed look. "I did not."

"Making someone lunch is a pretty friendly thing to do," says Ruri.

"He was on kitchen duty," says Zoro, like that explains everything. To him, it does.

"Someone cooks every day but you've never brought a bento before. Look how nicely it's tied."

It had been tied pretty nicely. Now it's been undone and Zoro is lifting off the lid. It is oddly exciting. Zoro has long since passed the point at which food is exciting for him; it's just a necessity now. But Ruri is more accurate than she knows. He has never had a bento before. It probably just contains leftovers from the night before or extras from breakfast.

Ruri watches curiously as four nori-wrapped onigiri are revealed. Not last night's leftover curry. Not this morning's fried fish and rice. Actual onigiri that someone has made.

Maybe this is what the others would be having for lunch.

"You can have half," he says to Ruri, prying apart two of the onigiri and offering one to her.

The other he pops into his mouth, tearing off a third of it immediately. It's good. It's so good. It must show on his face because he closes his eyes for the briefest of moments – a blink really – and when they open again, Ruri is smirking and waving his hand away.

"No need," she says. "That's all yours. I brought lunch too."

And she reaches into her obi and produces an onigiri of her own.

His onigiri falls out of his mouth.

"Ruri!" he hisses as he scoops it up and stuffs it back in.

"Gross, Zoro," says Ruri, radiating disapproval.

"What do you expect me to do - waste it?" he says before he's even swallowed.

"Keep your mouth closed when you eat. I've already seen what that looks like all chewed up once – and now it's got grass in it." She wrinkles her nose, taking a dainty bite out of her own onigiri. "If it's been on the ground, it's not good food anymore."

"It does not have grass in it," Zoro grumbles before he takes another bite. Even though it probably did. "The green was the nori."

"Gross," Ruri replies.

"And it was still good. Really good. If someone's made it, you should eat it."

And he won't hear anything else on it.

He doesn't hear her.

It's late autumn. The water is cold. He can hear the steady pump of his heart through his ears as he swims along the riverbed. He's swimming underneath the water today because holding his breath and battling his buoyancy is part of the challenge. And also, perhaps mostly, because Ruri doesn't like that he's in here so he's motivated by spite.

It's a slippery slope. He should know this. Ruri gives as good as she gets. But she also doesn't know better than he does. Not in this case. She knows more than him – he's not so stupid that he doesn't notice the fancy kimonos she always wears. She definitely comes from a family with money. Money buys education. He has one too, courtesy of Sensei. But his focus is his swordsmanship. She wants to know everything about everything.

She doesn't like that he swims when it gets cold. She thinks it will make him sick, starts out saying things like 'hypothermia' like he isn't used to being cold. Zoro is never sick. Sickness is for people who have time for it and Zoro has never had time for that.

So he's under the water because it's even colder here so he can prove her even more wrong. And if his eyes are battling the biting cold and sediment from the river bed, they can't see Ruri's retaliation up in the nearest tree.

The last time he looked, she was hanging upside down with her knees hooked around a branch. She'll hop from branch to branch. She'll go higher than she normally would. And she'll taunt him the whole time.

Why doesn't he come up here? It's warmer. It's closer to the sun.

That isn't the point and she knows it. So he embraces the cold grasp of (not fear, not panic) concern for her safety, and he lets the cold soak into his body from the outside too.

When he comes up for breath, his head hurts and his ears ring. It's colder than usual. He's underestimated it. He casts a cursory glance over towards Ruri to see if she's noticed that he might be struggling a little more than usual.

And he realises it's not his ears that are ringing.

Ruri is still upside down. One of her arms is bent back too far, her hand clinging to a branch – a newer one, which is too thin to hold her properly and bends as her body shifts. Her other hand is reaching out, trying to grasp at another nearby bough but it's too far and she can't stretch any further. Because her ankle is caught, twisted unnaturally above her. And her other leg dangles down uselessly with nothing to help support her weight.

As she shifts, a branch cracks and she screams.

He slips in his scramble out of the river.

"Ruri!"

"I'm stuck," she says, her voice high and shaky. "I can't – I can't get down."

The world tilts as he stands breathlessly underneath her. She's too high up. She's always too high up. He could have stopped her. He should have stopped her. He can't reach. If her foot comes free, she's going to fall.

He sees her then, her red hair pooled around her, blood darkened. Her arms and legs splayed unnaturally. Her head tilted too far, neck broken because she fell. She fell. And he couldn't catch her.

"I'll catch you," he says, even though he knows it won't be enough.

Kuina fell down the stairs, they said. Her head collided with the stone floor. It took weeks before the blood stains were removed from the cracks between the stones. Twelve steps. They never knew which one she fell from. Twelve steps. One misstep.

Kuina fell.

Kuina died.

There is at least thirty-five feet between Ruri and the ground.

"I'm stuck," Ruri repeats, her dark eyes wild and wide in her pale face. "My foot's stuck – I can't get down – I… I need you to help me…"

The last two words are filled with quiet desperation. Her eyes are squeezed shut. She takes in a shaky breath which he notices because he can't move, can't breathe, can't look away. Every time she tries to move the branches shift.

"How?" the breath leaves him.

Help. He'll go for help. Sensei will come. They'll get a ladder. They can free her and carry her down. But it's a long walk. Ruri's body is quivering with the effort of holding herself up. She can't hold on for that long. If he so much as looks away, she will fall.

There was nothing anybody could have done, they said. Nobody was there to catch her. She hit her head. They couldn't save her.

Ruri lifts her head. Her hair comes free of her hair pins, falls over her face and parts like a curtain of red.

Red pours from the corners of her mouth, her nose, her ears as she lies pale and still on the ground.

There is sadness in her eyes as she looks down at him.

"Please…"

He can't leave her. He can't catch her. He can't let her fall. He'll have to go up and get her.

He hasn't climbed anything since he was nine years old. He remembers swinging from branch to branch with ease. He remembers shimmying up guttering and dangling from washing lines without difficulty, without thought. He's stronger now.

He can do this.

"Fucking hell," he spits as he grabs the nearest handhold and hauls himself up.

His fingertips are frozen and slick from the river. His arms shake and his muscles burn with a fatigue he didn't feel until now. He isn't going to make it in time. He's going to fall.

"Left," says Ruri. "Reach to your left. No, that's right."

Her voice sounds far away and quiet but urgent. He can't see her because he's busy looking to his left for – he grabs it. His hand slips. Then his foot finds purchase on a knot below and he recovers his grip. A gust of wind bites into his back. There's a crack from above him.

"Shit!" he spits.

"It's okay," says Ruri like that crack does not foreshadow her doom. Her voice is low and comforting. "It's fine. We're fine."

He doesn't believe her. He believes her. She has to be fine; he's nearly there.

He looks down and regrets it. The boulders he trains with look small. His vision swims. If he fails, Ruri is going to fall down onto those rocks below. His stomach lurches.

"Ah!" Ruri gasps above him.

He needs to be faster. He has to save her.

Pushing everything else aside, he seizes the thick bough above him and puts all his upper body strength into pulling himself up onto it. Momentum carries him further so he rolls with it, like sparring, uses it jump forwards onto the next branch.

Reckless.

Doesn't matter. Speed matters.

He hears a loud crack above him. Something falls, clattering against the tree trunk above his head then falling down, down, down until it shatters into pieces on impact with the ground. His heart leaps into his mouth as he clings to the trunk for stability.

"Ruri!"

A bigger crack follows. He looks up. She's only a few feet away from him. The branch trapping her ankle has broken. Her foot is free and begins to fall. Her fingers scrabble for purchase on the branch below. They slip away.

She falls.

Zoro abandons the tree trunk, abandons all thoughts of safety and lunges for her. Her kimono sleeve slips like air through his unfeeling fingers.

Inside him, something plummets like she does as he screams her name.

She lands two feet below him, awkwardly straddling the branch below. She hugs it tightly, pressing her face against the wood. Then she starts to laugh.

Zoro falls back against the tree trunk, legs shaking. Everything is shaking as the adrenaline begins to fade.

"I-" he begins. I'm sorry. I failed. I couldn't catch you.

"You did it," says Ruri, looking up now. There are tears beading in the corners of her eyes. "Look how high up we are!"

"What?" he says. What the hell?

He looks even though he doesn't want to. The river stretches out ahead of them, sparkling slightly under a sudden burst of winter sun. Ruri rearranges herself to sit staring out over it all, a small, satisfied smile on her face.

"I knew you could do it!" she grins.

"What?" he repeats.

It is over. It's alright. It isn't. Ruri is safe. She isn't. He can almost reach out and touch her. He can't. His heart, hammering between his ears, still thinks he has something to fight.

"You nearly died!" he says finally, one hand clutching at his chest, which heaves under his fist. His other hand grips the branch below tightly. His knuckles are white. So is his face. "You were falling – I told you you were going to fall but you didn't listen."

Ruri regards him curiously. Her legs sway underneath her and he sees her dangling there again, unable to catch herself. He feels sick. She leans back to get a better look at him and his heart jumps in his chest. She is unconcerned.

"I didn't fall," she says simply.

She has that weird blank expression on her face again, like she's watching how he'll react before she decides how she feels.

"That looked a lot like falling from where I was standing," he snaps.

She shrugs. "But it wasn't the problem. I didn't say I was going to fall - I said I was stuck. I came unstuck. And now you're here too. Isn't the view nice?"

"No," says Zoro, fuming. His hands are still shaking. He isn't afraid but she's thirty feet off the ground and if she falls he can't reach her and why is she leaning back like that? She's going to fall. He isn't afraid. He is furious.

She shrugs again. "I think it is. Warmer too. You can feel the sun on you when you're closer to the top."

"It isn't," Zoro spits. "It's freezing."

He starts to look for the best way down without sharing a branch with her. The ground is taunting him. The river is taunting him. He can hear the water rushing from below with every heartbeat in his ears. His cold clothes echo the icy shock he felt moments earlier.

He'll go down first. Just in case.

Ruri intercepts him with a sharp look. "What is your problem?"

"You!" he hisses. He has the sudden, violent urge to shove her and it horrifies him. He practically shouts over it. "You nearly died. You don't even care about it! You're the one with the problem!"

Her eyebrows raise. She regards him for a long moment. "I was never in any real danger."

"What the fuck?" he hisses, eyes narrowed. "Does that look like no danger to you?"

He gestures angrily at the ground waiting for them below.

Kuina died. She fell down a staircase of twelve steps and she died.

"That isn't-" she sighs a heavy sigh. She seems suddenly older than she is. "I didn't mean it like that. I knew I wasn't going to fall far enough to hurt. I trust myself. I trust my skills. And you were there. I knew you would come to help me."

There was nothing anybody could have done; nobody was there to help her.

"Yeah, well…" He wants to be angry. He really does. But all the fight leaves him with that last sentence and he's suddenly exhausted. Rage turns to loathing and unease. "I wasn't fast enough to be any help."

"Nah," says Ruri. She's smiling again. "I just didn't need your help this time. But if it bothers you that much, practise makes you faster. Oh, it looks like it's lunch time."

Food is the last thing on his mind, but relief floods him as she adds, "Let's go down."

"Are you…" he says, gesturing to her foot, the one that had been trapped. "Are you alright?"

"Yep!" she says with entirely too much cheer, popping the 'p' with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Zoro climbs down ahead of her, testing each branch as he goes. If he's too slow, she doesn't complain or try to hurry him. She descends carefully, the branches remaining still as she spreads her weight between them.

When he jumps down from the lowest branch, feeling the shock reverberate through frozen knees, he turns to watch, to make sure she lands safely. She hops down gracefully, giving no indication that she's been hurt.

Her hair is loose now but there is not a scratch on her. He spends twenty minutes searching for her lost hair pins before they can sit down to eat. She finds them an hour later, tucked down the back of her kimono.

"No harm done," she says, tucking into an onigiri, which somehow survived the whole event in her obi. "But you look like you could really do with some warm clothes."

No harm done.

He struggles through two hundred sub-standard reps before it begins to hail and he admits defeat. Ruri huddles under a tree, legs hugged miserably against her chest until the hail abates and turns to drizzle.

She doesn't let him walk her home.

AN: Thanks for reading!

Comments bring me joy and fuel me to continue writing. Any thoughts are appreciated :)