The sun gleamed bright on the surface of the water, and yet, it was bracingly cold when Sanji hit, the girl's scream cutting off a second before he too found himself plunging into a hurricane of bubbles. It was all he could do to keep a tight grip on her arm as he thrashed and flailed through his own panic, in desperate search of air.
He found it, or rather, it found him, his head breaking the surface after a few seconds with a loud gasp. He yanked the girl against him, pulled her up too, and she instantly flung arms tightly around his neck. Of course, her weight only managed to shove him back under again, and he kicked hard with any hope of keeping them afloat.
Fuck, why hadn't he learned to swim? Why hadn't he at least tried to teach himself during those fleeting days at the lake as a child, barely a memory now, save for the soft texture of his mother's dress which he'd stubbornly glued himself to.
He could have helped the girl now, could have propelled them to safety easily, but all he could do was—fuck—flounder and flail in a fruitless fight for air that was—shit.
Why hadn't he just—?
His siblings had splashed and roughhoused in the water...that was why… Fear.
Another moment of air as he bobbed above the surface, followed by a choked gasp that turned to spluttered coughing as soon as a gulp of water flooded his mouth.
The water was moving them, pushing them along too swiftly. Sanji felt his bow slide off his shoulder in the chaos, but he couldn't catch it before the current swept it away. His crutch—his feeble facade of strength. Gone, quickly as the air that barely reached his lungs.
He caught a glimpse of the bridge growing smaller in the distance before he slipped under again to the sound of the girl's frantic cries as she struggled to hold onto him and push herself up.
He let out air too soon and his lungs began to burn, unable to break the surface in time.
His body screamed to inhale, but what was left of his meager willpower prevented it vehemently, even if the churning water seemed eager to flood his throat.
He couldn't tell right from left, forward from backward. His feet couldn't reach the bottom, and his free arm could only flap uselessly against the current until—
SMACK!
His back bumped hard against a solid surface, one his hand scrambled for automatically, despite his shock, clamping, by some miracle, onto what felt like a rope that scraped and burned over his palm. He gave an immediate strong tug fueled by pure adrenaline, and they surfaced again, this time with truly desperate inhales.
It was indeed a rope, hanging fortuitously from an empty shop boat, docked along the canal's edge, and Sanji held onto it tightly, limbs shaking against the water that tried hard to drag him off again.
The girl was crying through her panicked huffs of breath, and he couldn't even soothe her properly, could only pant out, "Grab it!", urging her to take hold of the rope herself.
She did, tears flowing, but her teeth gritted with surprising focus as her small hands let go of Sanji's shoulders to grip on.
"Pull yourself up!" he hissed, mortified, even through his own panic, that he could do nothing more than bark orders, lacking the proper leverage to lift her out of the water himself.
Still, she nodded, tears mixing over her face, her arms already straining to do just that and grab hold of the boat's railing, which was close, yet still just out of reach.
The blond did his best to hold the rope taut, closing his eyes for a moment and forcing himself to crawl back to his senses, calming his breaths and eventually opening eyes again to survey his surroundings.
The stone wall where the boat's bow nosed, sloping down into the water from the walkway above, frustratingly devoid of anyone who could help them...
The boat, tilting towards them under the girl's weight, slippery wood squeaking under her bare feet which she braced against the side as she climbed, sandals lost in the water...
And an orange glint beneath the surface as Sanji's own bare feet brushed against something terribly cold and terrifyingly large...
An automatic yelp of fear, embarrassing, but mostly damning as his body jolted in surprise and fingers slipped from the rope, the girl's frantic cry of, "It's okay—it's just—!" cutting itself off as the water muffled her voice and pulled him under again.
Thrashing anew, his shoulder scraped painfully against the hull of the boat, blocking the surface above him with its broad form, and he felt it again, the pathetic terror in his chest, just as he remembered from the forest. That moment that he'd been so sure was death's embrace coming to take him at last.
And when he risked opening his eyes, there was something massive still looming beneath him, its colors bright as fire in the murky water. Its shape slunk slowly, stealthily, and its eyes were blank orbs.
He didn't move, despite his every instinct, the water like dense foliage now, the boats a dark canopy above him that offered no shelter or safety, not even air.
Clouds of sediment obscured the creature's full form, displaced only by its gaping maw that approached him like a void, cavernous enough to capture his entire body.
What was it? It didn't matter, for his breath had left him of its own accord, his heart slamming full force against his ribs, his body quaking violently with the urge to inhale.
Just as the first gulp of water began to gush past his lips and his vision grayed around that approaching monster, a hand, an unmistakable human hand slammed itself over his mouth, a sudden dam that stopped him from inhaling.
A sturdy arm circled his waist from behind, and his limp body followed easily when he found himself dragged by something stronger than the current.
It was something warm, and it was something very angry when Sanji's head finally broke the surface again, the base instinct to stay there leaving him scrambling blindly against the solid form that held him.
"You idiot!" his rescuer gritted out in a familiarly gruff voice, barely keeping his head above the water too. "Hold onto me—fuck! Don't pull me down! Stop—fighting!"
Rationality returned only after Sanji's frantic gasps slowed and his front slapped hard into a broad wall of sleek scales.
Even in his state, he'd know that surface anywhere. His hands had ached to prepare every kind that inhabited the oceans, taste every flavor they had to offer.
Yes, the monster he'd seen underwater that now bobbed at the surface before them was an enormous fish, surely as big as a whale, those giant sea creatures Sanji had only read about in books.
It was at least the same size as the boat that had nearly been his savior to begin with, and it was something he couldn't focus on for long as a hand fisted in the back of his robe and urged him to crawl onto its back.
"Climb up—come on, I'll drop you if you don't—move, Curly Brow! How the fuck can you not swim?"
That stern voice again, a barely registered insult, and Sanji forced himself to brace hands against the gentle slope of the fish's back, the creature's fanlike fins slowly swishing in place.
His sopping robe weighed him down significantly, but he finally managed to get a knee up, crawling his way out of the water until he flopped onto his stomach atop the wide expanse of scales, feeling, absurdly in his situation, like a fish out of water as he panted heavily.
A splash behind him, and his eyes opened briefly to see none other than Zoro settling opposite him on the fish's back, the swordsman's own back stubbornly turned away from Sanji as he pulled his arms free from the soaking sleeves of his robe.
His swords followed, the man slipping them from his sash and into his lap, presumably for inspection.
Zoro said nothing more, just sat there as if he'd ridden a giant fish thousands of times, looking far too comfortable atop the splatter of orange and white scales.
The blond stared, almost comforted, oddly, by the sight of Zoro's broad shoulders, moving with his own heavy breaths, dark and defined against the sun overhead. Water slid steadily down contoured muscles that were far more rendered than Sanji's own, which still quivered from exertion.
He should have thanked him. And yet, that 'thank you' died on his lips for the moment, his mouth feeling dry as a desert, despite the ordeal he'd just escaped.
Again, again, the swordsman had saved him, and the uncomfortable thought that this was becoming far too frequent stood out almost as prominently as the dip of Zoro's tense spine, sharply berating Sanji for being far weaker than the man sitting before him.
"Zoro!"
Another voice tore his attention away, thankfully, and Sanji finally pushed himself up to see the girl running along the top of the wall of the canal, bare feet slapping against stone, looking like a green hummingbird flitting towards them against the backdrop of houses.
Small hands struggled to hold up her wet robe, but she managed, stopping at the canal's edge with a breathlessly relieved smile on her face.
Zoro shifted, laying his swords behind him on the fish's back and called out, "Jump," stretching arms to beckon her.
She didn't hesitate, merely backed up a few steps on the walkway, then sprinted forward to leap over the edge, only a slight squeak of fear leaving her as she fell the short distance towards the water below.
She never hit, as Zoro caught her easily, the fish beneath them dipping slightly with the added weight, but still hovering idly, almost obediently, in place.
Immediately, she scrambled from his grasp, the swordsman with a frown on his face as she crawled onto the fish's head where she knelt, curling over to press her forehead to the fish's skin in front of Sanji, bowing before him.
"Thank you! Thank you!" she huffed profusely, the flowers and clips that had held up her meticulous hairdo now dripping free. "I'm sorry! I didn't—I just needed rice, but—"
The blond shifted to kneel as well, pushing at his wet locks, trying to pull himself together when he felt no more composed than the child.
"Are you okay?" he asked, though her eyes stayed clenched shut, refusing to look at him despite his attempts to meet her gaze.
"I-I'm fine," she mumbled, her voice shaky. "But—"
"Talk later," Zoro interrupted, his tone softer than before as he nudged her shoulder gently until she straightened again, wiping self-consciously at her leaking eyes.
"Tell it to get us out of here first," the swordsman mumbled, and when Zoro jerked his chin at the very creature keeping them afloat, Sanji had to furrow his brow in confusion.
But the girl seemed to think nothing of the strange request as she merely gave a few lingering sniffles and nodded, shifting to face forward, lifting a hand to rub again at her cheek—
Except no. It wasn't to rub—
Sanji's eyebrows shot up when those small fingers pinched her own cheek, stretching out the fair skin, more, more, more than was humanly possible until, with a tiny burst of wispy light, from her cheek sprang a small doughy ball that she tossed into the water to be quickly consumed by the fish's gaping mouth.
The girl leaned down closer, giving the fish's head a gentle pat.
"Take us to Amigasa," she said, and to add to Sanji's bewilderment, the fish listened.
Fins gave a very conscious pump, and suddenly, they were moving upstream with purpose, fast enough that Sanji nearly slipped right back into the water in pure shock.
He shouldn't have been surprised. He was fully aware Seals existed, of course, but with his siblings as the only destructive examples he knew….with their haughty attacks that had so loved to use him as target prac—
Just as roughly, a hand he was growing all too familiar with grabbed his collar and tugged him from his spiraling thoughts, thoughts that seemed to fall into darkness so fucking easily now. But how could they not when bruises were still only days old, when he knew the feeling of a fist's violence all too well.
So he flinched at the rough treatment. He couldn't help it, even when Zoro's hand merely pulled him up farther onto the fish's back to prevent him from falling. He flinched and roughly tore himself free on instinct alone, only to be met with Zoro's own wide-eyed surprise for a moment, the swordsman clearly caught off-guard.
But Zoro soon let his hovering hand fall back to his lap awkwardly, and he looked away.
Sanji too averted eyes, embarrassed by his reaction, though his gaze tentatively flicked back a mere second later.
There was blood on Zoro's robe, he noticed, blossoming brightly like a watercolor over the white fabric that hung at his waist.
"You're bleeding," Sanji noted, almost monotone. The first real thing he'd said to the swordsman since his rescue, and it was far from gratitude. Was his own pride that stubborn?
The swordsman blinked, frowned, then glanced down at himself as if realizing for the first time.
"Not my blood," he eventually mumbled with a shrug.
"Are you sure?" Sanji pressed, though his concern was met with an obnoxious roll of eyes.
"Worry about yourself first," Zoro muttered, his gaze landing on Sanji's shoulder, where Sanji was almost surprised to find the pinkish red tint of blood saturating his own robe. The skin beneath stung, he realized, with the recognizable pain of a bad brush burn.
Was he an idiot for not noticing until now?
No….he'd merely...
"Had worse," he muttered in response with a nonchalant shrug of his own.
Again, the slightest flash of surprise crossed the swordsman's face, though he swiftly buried it behind stoicism once more.
He didn't reply, and Sanji was honestly glad. It seemed he was finally getting it through his thick head that Sanji did not want to speak about his past….even if, for a split second, the blond longed for some genuine concern.
But that was a rarity in his life.
His life….which somehow still coursed through his veins despite every reason he had to be dead.
This country seemed determined to kill him, and yet, Zoro seemed determined to prevent that…
It was horrible, to owe such a lout, when for so long, Sanji hadn't cared if he lived or died. He didn't matter to anyone. Still didn't. Not enough that his death would have any significant impact on the world.
Death was like that. His mother had gone, and the world still turned, even if his own had crashed to a halt without her…
The smooth forward movement of the fish beneath them made the silence almost peaceful, the houses lining the canal drifting by lazily. The water glistened; a tall crane coasted low, keeping pace with them ahead; Zoro's breathing was measured as he examined his swords once more.
And Sanji's voice was soft when he spoke.
"Zoro," he murmured.
He felt a little less foolish for flinching so violently under Zoro's touch when his voice alone seemed to shock the swordsman just as much, his dark eyes widening before flitting back to fix on Sanji over his shoulder with that familiar wariness.
The blond's next word came out more easily than expected.
"Thanks."
Sunlight (surely it was sunlight) dusted Zoro's cheeks, reddening them.
His nod in response was subtle, but visible before he looked away.
Sanji's heart thudded with lingering adrenaline.
Surely it was adrenaline.
For as unbelievable as Sanji felt the sight was – three people floating up the canal as casually as one could on the back of a giant fish – they traveled rather inconspicuously. The few passersby that shuffled along the walkways lining the water had spared mere glances before continuing on their way, those manning boats doing the same.
Was this a common sight in Wano?
No one pursued them; no one questioned them; no one accompanied them aside from that lone crane that seemingly waited at every bend.
And no one told Sanji what awaited them as buildings grew more and more scarce, the passing shade of bridges overhead becoming less and less frequent. The stone walls of the canal eventually dropped off until the water morphed into a natural river that carried them away from the town, rippling through lush fields that shook in anticipation of a harvest.
Sanji had told the empress he wanted to explore….and he supposed this certainly counted, despite their journey taking them into the countryside, unexpectedly.
The girl had said a name. Amigasa? A person? A place?
Perhaps he could have asked her, but she'd fallen quiet during the journey, settled by herself on the fish's head, her introspective gaze fixed steadfastly on the water ahead of them. Zoro too was silent, watching the shrinking Capital behind them.
It felt odd to break the silence, especially when Sanji already felt like a burden as it was, so he held onto his questions, relinquishing his confusion for just the tiniest bit of trust as the fish continued its steady swim upstream.
The river twisted through those fields for some time until, ahead, Sanji noticed something new. A forest loomed, but, as with so many sights in Wano, it was full of unfamiliar nature, trees that looked almost manmade, towering to the sky in long, thin poles of a bright, vibrant green. Their tiny leaves bloomed at the canopy, the forest oddly uniform with its lack of criss-crossing branches, but no less dense.
Sanji hadn't realized the fish was slowing until they came to a complete stop at the edge of the forest, where the water began to narrow and climb a slight incline. Clearly, their massive carrier could progress no further.
The girl was already murmuring thanks to the fish, patting its head sweetly as if it could truly understand her, and, as Sanji thought back to her apparent powers, maybe it could.
Zoro had gotten to his feet and jumped the distance from the fish's back to the grassy river bank with ease, surprising Sanji yet again with his nimbleness. He turned back, reaching out for the girl, catching her hands when she leaped for him and swinging her onto the bank as well.
Sanji couldn't help but watch the scene for a moment, watch the swordsman pat the girl's back and nudge her up the hill, his actions natural and soft, and her smile was bright when she looked back at him, completely comfortable despite the man's stoic demeanor. Clearly (and rather inexplicably), the guy had a way with children.
Zoro's eyes met his then, the blond quickly blinking and looking away to conceal the fact he'd been fixated for a few seconds too long.
The swordsman said nothing though, just stood there expectantly, so Sanji pushed up to his feet too, hoping he didn't slip on the fish's scales.
He managed, thankfully, without any embarrassing mishaps, and soon he and Zoro were walking side by side through the strange forest, following the girl, who scrambled up the hill ahead of them.
Sanji was reminded of his stroll through the Scabbards' Compound with the Empress, watching the girl weave in and out of the pole-like trees, greeting a few birds along the way as if she knew them personally.
Except this time, there was no arm linked through his, no conversation, just Zoro's silent but imposing presence lumbering beside him.
The blond found his gaze flicking to Zoro more than once, wondering if he would speak, wondering if he himself should speak. And when it seemed the swordsman had no intention to, Sanji took the initiative, unsure why he held the desire to fill the silence.
"So you seem to know a lot of kids," he muttered, watching a scowl come to Zoro's features.
"And?" Zoro huffed irritably, drawing an automatic roll of eyes from Sanji. He hadn't even said anything remotely irritating.
"Just an observation," the blond replied, and when Zoro still looked perturbed, he sighed. It was sad really, that he could relate so well to the defensive walls the swordsman seemed to have built around himself. They came up so easily, even in the face of casual comments.
So he added, "….I think it's nice," something that drew the man's eyes back to him with a predictable flash of surprise.
Sanji shrugged when their gazes met again. "Kids get cast aside too often."
"Come on!"
The girl's voice ahead of them, her short form now standing at the crest of the hill, beckoning eagerly for them to catch up.
Sanji glanced back at Zoro, his lips turning up slightly, and he jerked his head for the oaf to follow before he sped up himself, lengthening his strides to climb the slight incline.
He stopped beside the girl, who tugged his still-damp sleeve when he got close enough and swept her hand out at the scene before them.
"This is Amigasa!" she exclaimed, then gave another tug to urge him down the other side of the slope towards a small village that sprawled out at the foot of the hill, visible in stripes through the tall trees.
Sanji stumbled after her in surprise, only checking briefly to make sure the swordsman was following before focusing on the path ahead.
The odd trees were giving way to even odder houses, their roofs steepled at acute angles, similar to hands in prayer, each covered with thick layers of dense straw, or so it looked to Sanji. Their walls seemed to lean precariously, like plants seeking sunlight under the canopy of the forest, though it could have simply been due to the uneven terrain of the small valley. Still, Sanji couldn't help but envision the structures as parts of the foliage themselves….
These buildings were modest compared to the ones in the Capital, some even close to dilapidated, lacking the vibrant colors and ornamentation, and it seemed the villagers were much the same. The few visible were dressed far more plainly, carrying heavy loads of resources over their heads, bundles of firewood, large clay pots, and the like.
It was far more quiet here, more peaceful, and Sanji very nearly breathed a sigh of relief, for Zoro's sake, as they neared the bottom of the hill, finally emerging from the thinning trees onto the village's main path.
"We all live here. It's where we're safe," the girl was saying, and though Sanji wasn't sure what she meant initially, any question he could have asked died in his throat when, suddenly, a round object went flying past them, narrowly missing Tama's head as it rushed by, the object—a ball, Sanji realized—bouncing to the ground ahead of them.
It had barely landed though before, to Sanji's disbelief, the ball lifted itself clear off the ground, hovering at eye level for a long moment before an unseen force tugged it back through the air, almost faster than it had come.
Sanji could barely process what he'd just seen before the sound of laughter rang out behind them, followed by a trio of young boys who rushed past, one clutching the ball close to his chest.
"Sorry, Tama!" he called as they hurried away, another turning back to stick his tongue out childishly before they rounded a corner.
No sooner had that happened than Sanji heard rickety wheels approaching, his head whipping around to see a small cart loaded with wood stopping in front of a nearby house, pulled by a large horse with no driver—
And then the horse was morphing before his eyes, looking almost like a mirage as its shape undulated and straightened, coarse hair whisking away until a human man stood in its place, his muscular arms setting down the cart. He stretched, gave a few twists and cracks of his back before sliding open the front door of the house and slipping inside with a call of, "I'm back!"
Voices across the street, some shirtless fishermen with baskets, their rods thrown over their shoulders as they congregated under the eaves of a nearby awning. Sanji heard them grumbling their disappointment about a fruitless haul, one holding up a meager trout with, not fingers, but five sharp hooks curving around it like talons.
Sanji's heart thundered when his eyes fell on the dark circular mark of a Seal on the man's chest, on each of the men's chests, and he stopped short, the realization finally hitting him fully.
They had Seals too! All of them! And when his eyes quickly darted to the other villagers he could see, each of them did as well, slivers visible beneath low necklines, or plain as day over bare chests.
Had the girl really meant all of them lived here?
He didn't mean to stare, but he'd never seen this many in one place! Not even in his own country!
It was fascinating, almost more so than even the Capital's awe-inducing scenery. How could gifts so amazing be shunned? How could they be when Sanji himself felt so damned ordinary and powerless by comparison?
He knew their destructive potential. Of course he did. He'd seen it—felt it—firsthand.
But still, he foolishly coveted it when all he saw was what he lacked, what he'd always wanted to have….what his father had always wanted him to have.
He kept his mouth shut as they walked, struggling to keep emotions at bay, keep the ugly jealousy off his face lest it be mistaken for resentment...
Sanji saw the fishermen note the girl, still leading him along, with little reaction, their conversation merely pausing when they noticed Sanji, curiosity crossing their faces.
And then they saw Zoro bringing up the rear, and it happened, same as it had in the Capital. Eyes narrowed in disdain; scowls formed; the muttering started.
Sanji couldn't help his surprise, which slowly, despite his initial amazement, began to turn, once again, to disgust.
Did every damn settlement in this country have something against the swordsman? And why? Because of his Seal again?
It made no sense, particularly when every person Sanji saw possessed a Seal, and yet, Zoro was still receiving looks.
Where panic and discomfort had arisen within him the first time in the Capital, now there was only anger bubbling within the blond, enough that he let the girl skip ahead when her hand slipped from his. Instead, he turned back to clamp his hand hard onto Zoro's forearm, pulling him forward almost possessively, certainly protectively.
He couldn't stop himself shooting a dirty glare of his own at the fishermen as he passed, yanking Zoro up to his other side so he wasn't in their direct line of sight.
Zoro was protesting in his ear, grumbling for him to let go, but he didn't the whole way down the main path, moving in front of the oaf when they passed villagers to block their view of him and leveling the bolder ones with his own sneers.
Eventually, Zoro's arm went limp in his grasp, and he stopped his complaints, shuffling behind in silence once more.
Sanji couldn't even fully appreciate the quaint, almost ancient beauty of the town, his blood boiling too hot, confusion and frustration for someone he barely knew clenching at his heart like a claw. He didn't know where he'd gotten the gall to return the sneers and glares, though maybe it was the memory of the swordsman's downcast gaze.
Maybe it was the memory of his own...
He was grateful when the girl finally slowed ahead of him, approaching a house that looked just like the rest, but had a smaller addition, a shed-like structure beside it from which billowed an overwhelming heat, a glimpse of a hellish orange fire through the dark open doorway. A blacksmith…?
There wasn't much time to decipher what lay inside, however, before, from the taller roof of the adjoining house, a thin white crane swooped down, diving steeply towards the path in front of them. Sanji realized, with some alarm, that it was headed straight for them.
And then, just before it landed, the bird exploded, drawing a jolt through Sanji's chest and an embarrassing yelp from his throat, his hand sliding up Zoro's arm as he stumbled back in surprise.
Long, white feathers suddenly burst forth from the bird in a flurry that started to take the shape of….a cotton robe, the creature's body lengthening, growing thicker as that robe formed around it.
And when it landed, instead of a crane before them, there was a tall woman in a deep blue robe, her black hair pulled up in a style that resembled, to Sanji, the open petals of a flower, her features sharp and long like the inky strokes of the paintings he'd seen in the Empress' hearing room.
Instantly, she ran for the girl with an exclamation of, "Tama!", who ran into her embrace eagerly.
Sanji could only stare, his brain still working to process the woman's transformation, even as she moved, already ushering the girl towards the house, her long arms like wings hovering over the girl's shoulders, worry clear on her face.
The girl paused in front of the entrance, closing her eyes and blowing out a hard breath as if preparing herself before allowing the woman to lead her inside.
Sanji didn't move to follow right away, merely stood, rooted to the spot, until Zoro's voice broke the silence, shattering his shock.
"Ask Hitetsu for a sword…" Zoro mumbled quietly, jerking his chin towards the house when Sanji looked his way.
Oh, right. Sanji shifted uncomfortably, the non-existent weight of his lost bow seeming to sink heavier over his shoulders as he remembered his lack of weapon. He wasn't sure if a sword was his best option, but he had to assume it was this 'Hitetsu's' house they'd arrived at.
The blond frowned as Zoro merely brushed past him though, bypassing the house entirely to move towards the side alley, a small, narrow dirt path that barely managed to separate the neighboring house.
"Aren't you coming in?" Sanji asked immediately, and yet Zoro seemed perfectly content to avoid that door.
The swordsman didn't even use words to reply, just gave a primitive shake of his head as if he planned to forget Sanji even existed.
Something about Zoro's dismissive attitude didn't sit right with Sanji, not after everything they'd, dare he think it, been through. It wasn't that he wanted Zoro around, he just…. Well, a familiar face was nice to have when clearly every kind of unseen danger lurked in this damn country. And maybe he was starting to rely on the swordsman just a little...
"Will you wait…?" Sanji found himself asking, trying hard to conceal any bit of pleading from his tone, but not quite succeeding.
And disappointment unexpectedly welled within him when Zoro merely mumbled, "I got shit to do…"
And what shit was that? Sleep on another rooftop? Disturb more old ladies? He'd now seen some evidence of the man's sword skills, but did the guy even train? He'd said he'd show Sanji the forests but it was starting to seem he'd forgotten.
Sanji's hand darted out to grab Zoro's arm yet again before he'd planned it, fingers clamping onto the swordsman's warm skin. He really shouldn't be making a habit of this, but there he was...
Immediately, Zoro's eyes shot to his in surprise, mouth opening as if to protest, his arm tugging away slightly, but Sanji held on firmly.
"It's a request," the blond implored, his tone lowering as he stared back at Zoro seriously. "Will you wait? Please?"
Zoro's chest rose visibly, confusion passing over his dark eyes for the long moment he held Sanji's gaze. Then his lips pulled into a tighter line, and those eyes flicked away, hardening again.
But he nodded. He nodded as he pulled his arm away finally and continued past Sanji to settle on the ground, right in the dirt under the shade of the building, his outstretched leg nearly able to touch the opposite wall.
Sanji nodded too, his gaze lingering on Zoro for a moment more. Then he pushed aside the hanging cloth over the entrance and stepped into the house, unsure what to make of the way Zoro's fingers continued to brush at the spot he'd grabbed.
Stepping into the shade of the interior, it was instantly cooler, a refreshing breeze somehow ghosting through the room he entered upon.
It was a large room, and it was open, Sanji realized, with door panels slid aside on either end, letting in that breeze and its accompanying sunlight, which washed over the smooth straw mats, similar to those in Sanji's guest room in the Capital.
A stove pit sat in the center of the room, its embers flickering around an iron teapot nestled within the coals, a chimney pipe extending upward through the ceiling, and there was a low table to the side. Other than that, the room was empty, save for the three figures knelt on the floor nearby, one of which was receiving a thorough scolding, by the looks of it.
"You said...not to use my Seal anymore for food, so I thought I…" the young girl whimpered, her head bowed nearly to the mats in apology in front of an old man, one whose appearance visibly startled the blond.
The man was short and stocky, his build much like Kawamatsu's, dressed simply in a robe, tunic, and vest tied around his broad stomach, his chest covered, long white hair slicked back over his head. His body alone should not have been so imposing…
But it was the strangely fearsome, crimson mask he wore on his face, its exaggerated features twisted into a permanent grimace, angry lips and eyebrows carved into the surface in bright yellow strokes.
Sanji sincerely hoped this wasn't the Hitetsu he sought.
"W-We needed rice," the girl continued, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. "But...I know money is—"
"I told you not to waste your energy on him," the old man said gruffly, and Sanji shuddered instinctively, even if the scolding was not directed at him. "You're going to run yourself dry if you keep leaving dangos for that damned samurai. Not to mention it's dangerous if you're discovered in the Capital."
"He saved me though…" the girl muttered, slowly lifting her head to look up at the man. "And I just want to help him…"
The man didn't seem convinced. In fact, this statement only served to irritate him further, evident, if not on his hidden facial features, then in his slowly clenching fists, his shoulders tensing.
"The only help he needs is a swift push out of the kingdom," he growled. "Anyone fraternizing with Orochi is not to be—"
No. Not this again. Not about Zoro.
For all Sanji's unease at this man's presence, he summoned a bit of conviction and cleared his throat pointedly, interrupting the man, who turned his head towards him for the first time, along with the girl and the woman, as if they'd only just noticed his entrance.
Sanji forced himself to stare into the man's eyes, at those dark holes carved out of the mask's pupils.
"It's my fault," Sanji said, as levelly as he could manage. "I knocked into a man and spilled his rice. She just happened to be nearby, and the ruffian attacked her. Zoro fought him off."
He saw the girl's eyebrows raise, though she didn't contest his untrue story.
"And who are you?" the man predictably asked, and Sanji saw his head dip, as if he'd taken note of his Seal-less chest.
"Just a bystander," Sanji replied hastily. "It doesn't matter."
"He saved me too, Grandpa!" the girl cried, whipping her head back to the old man. "But he lost his bow… We don't have any extras, do we?"
A flash of surprise shot through the blond at the word 'grandpa', but at least now his suspicions were confirmed. This was very likely the man Zoro had indicated, if he indeed had a stock of weapons. And Sanji was becoming increasingly sure that any request of a stranger's would not be met with much hospitality.
"It's not necessary," Sanji immediately protested, almost out of habit, but certainly in the face of the man's gruff attitude. "I can—"
"Sit down, boy, you're bleeding."
His mouth snapped shut at the old man's rebuke, discomfort filling him once more under the man's scrutinizing attention.
A tense moment followed, but perhaps it was only in Sanji's mind, because eventually, the man let out a long-suffering sigh and shuffled his way past his granddaughter, crossing the room to the front door. He slipped into a pair of wooden sandals that towered inches higher than any Sanji had seen yet, his billowing robe draped over his shoulders like a pair of wings.
"I'm a swordsmith, not a bowyer," he grumbled under his breath, followed by another string of near unintelligible complaints as he passed through the hanging cloths and left the house.
Sanji stared after him for a moment until he became aware of two more sets of eyes on him, forcing him to turn back to see the girl's owlish gaze studying him.
"You don't have a Seal…" she finally murmured quietly. "Why did you help me?"
He looked at her, saw nothing but a little girl, another human, and it hurt to see the pain of his own childhood reflected on this kid's face. The fear of rejection…
But he pushed back any ill-timed memory that could have overcome him, instead giving a shrug, his lips turning up slightly.
"You were in trouble," he answered simply. "Whether you have one or not doesn't matter to me."
He wasn't expecting the tears that filled her dark eyes, certainly not the hug that tackled him after she scrambled to her feet and dove across the floor mats to him, but he accepted it, his bewilderment slowly disappearing as his own arms tightened around her.
"My name's Tama," she mumbled into his waist, their first proper introduction, even if he'd heard her name called earlier.
"I'm…" And though he hesitated for a moment, he found it far easier this time to finish with his real name. "Sanji," he said, a genuine smile coming to his face.
The girl giggled, squeezing him harder as if she'd known him all her life before finally releasing him to scamper back over to the woman, who'd moved to the edge of the room, opening a low cabinet to rummage inside.
"Did you see? Did you see? He doesn't care about my Seal!" Tama chirped excitedly, something that drew a warm smile to the woman's red lips as the girl flitted around her, the image of a small hummingbird once again coming to Sanji's mind.
"I saw," the woman murmured in reply, her eyes flicking knowingly to Sanji before handing the girl a ceramic basin she pulled from the cabinet. "Please fill this with warm water."
Tama nodded eagerly, already tearing towards the front door, barely slowing when the woman called, "Carefully!" after her.
Her eyes were back on Sanji then, her pale hand gesturing him over to where she knelt, still as elegant as the crane she'd transformed from.
He obliged, slowly lowering himself to the floor in front of her, her hand reaching out to take his.
"My name is Tsuru," the woman said, covering his hand with her other, both clasping his gently. "I thank you and Sir Green for protecting Tama. I am in your debt."
He smiled, rather soothed by her soft tone and touch, and rather amused at Zoro's nickname.
"It was nothing…." he answered automatically. "Are you Tama's….?"
"Mother?" she guessed, but shook her head. "No. Merely a friend."
And it was the pensive way her lips turned up that left Sanji wondering if perhaps everyone in this country had lost their parents…
He couldn't linger on the thought for long though before Tsuru's hands had left his to land on his shoulder, her fingers already prying open his collar, coaxing him to shrug out of the fabric.
He did, with some discomfort, the brush burn on his back throbbing anew at the aggravation. He struggled to keep the pain off his face.
A minute of quiet examination, then the woman backed off, Sanji taking that moment to instantly pull up his robe, though she tapped him scoldingly.
"Please wait," she said, and he reluctantly obliged, slumping shoulders once more as she went in search of tools.
It wasn't long before she'd returned though, kneeling down behind him once more with the water basin Tama re-entered with, along with a cloth and a roll of white bandages.
The warm cloth eventually met his back, sending a stinging pang through the scraped skin, but the woman's touch was still gentle as feathers, the pressure light as she dabbed away the blood.
It was a familiar touch, motherly hands tending to his wound, and Sanji closed his eyes the instant they began to burn, the threat of tears sudden and painful. He wanted his mother's soft humming, her smile, attempts to cheer him up, remedy not only his injuries, but his spirit, every time he found himself on the receiving end of his brothers' abuse.
She was gone. He had to remind himself of that, but he wasn't sure which was more painful, the fact that this was a stranger, not his mother….or the indulgence of pretending it wasn't.
Sanji cleared his throat, forced himself to ignore the soothing feeling altogether, simply sat blankly as that cloth turned to bandages, the woman's fingers brushing his skin now and again as she maneuvered them under his armpit and over his shoulder to cover the wound.
He stared hard at the opposite wall, focusing on the pots and utensils hanging there, doing his best to turn off his mind until Tsuru finished, something that wasn't too hard to do considering the wave of exhaustion that washed over him, the chaos of the morning catching up to him.
He didn't feel comfortable drifting off here though, so his gaze eventually hardened, the blond forcing himself to speak.
"What was your grandpa talking about?" he said over his shoulder when Tama appeared in his peripheral, crouching down to remove the water basin, the clear liquid now tinted pink with blood. "If you're short on food, I can show you a few recipes to make it last longer."
"We have plenty! That's my power!" she chirped cheerfully. Sanji wondered if all the children in Wano were as upbeat as the two girls he'd met. To him, it was still a mystery how they could be.
"Your power…" Sanji repeated quietly as Tama slipped out the front door again briefly, the sound of water splashing on the dirt ground following soon after.
She stepped back inside a moment later, still wearing a smile, her cheeks plump, and the image of her fingers pulling a doughy ball from her skin flashed through his mind again.
"I can tame animals too if I feed them!" she said, setting the bowl by the entrance and lowering herself to the floor mats again.
"So you called the fish?" Sanji guessed, remembering how the giant beast had seemed to listen to her, following her directions as if it understood.
She nodded eagerly, not taking her gaze from Sanji, even as Tsuru moved across the room to her, the woman's fingers now working to tame Tama's disheveled hair. Sanji wasn't sure her efforts would be as effective as Tama's taming of the fish.
"And you've been giving food to Zoro?" Sanji guessed, remembering Hitetsu's apparent disapproval of such.
"Yes..." the girl muttered, her eyes flicking to the doorway, as if her grandfather would come back at any moment.
Sanji couldn't help but snort, imagining Zoro hovering for scraps in the street like some stray animal.
"Yet he was so keen on advertising how resourceful the people of Wano were…" the blond mumbled quietly. "Meanwhile, he's accepting free hand-outs from a little girl..."
"Sir Green is not from Wano originally," Tsuru added, still focused on Tama's hair, now fully unraveled from its previous style as the woman combed her fingers through gently.
It was surprising to hear, especially when Zoro seemed to be the very embodiment of Wano, at least to Sanji. If he wasn't from Wano, where was he from…?
"It was Kaido who brought him here, as a boy," Tsuru answered a moment later, something that shut down anything Sanji could have expected.
His heart clenched hard at the words.
"Really…?" he replied, his widening gaze meeting hers when she shot a glance his way.
"Yes," she said as she began to pull Tama's hair back in an intricate style. "After the attack on the Capital, Kaido abandoned him."
Suddenly, a cog clicked into place in Sanji's mind. The looks in the street. Kawamatsu's animosity. Maybe this was the real reason… But why the hell had he been with Kaido to begin with?
"So the blatant hatred for him…" Sanji eventually murmured, focusing on the swift movement of Tsuru's pale fingers, a whirlwind that left clean twists and braids in their wake. "I thought it was because of his Seal. But if he's associated with Kaido..."
Tsuru merely nodded, her hand extending to Tama, who lifted a floral hair clip off the floor and placed it in her hand.
"To those in the Capital," the woman said. "I believe Sir Green represents the loss of the royal family, and the ever-looming threat of Kaido's power. Unfortunately, that prejudice has spread to all with Seals in the years since the attack. That's why we were forced to leave the Capital and settle here."
"That was hardly his fault, especially if he was so young!" Sanji shot back almost instantly, in defense of the man yet again because he still had yet to see any justification for the contempt. "Shouldn't those of you with Seals support him? He was getting looks even here!"
"It may not have been his fault," Tsuru admitted, securing a few clips before moving to the other side of Tama's head. "But from our perspective, to many with Seals, he signifies the beginning of our oppression. There are those distrustful of his continued subservience to the Empress. They wonder about his true motives."
"So you think he's still loyal to Kaido too," Sanji replied, deadpan. "Has no one thought to ask him?!"
"I am merely explaining the popular sentiment," she said calmly, seeming to sense his growing frustration. "It is not only him the people worry about. There were other pirates left behind after Kaido's massacre. Including the Orochi mentioned by Hitetsu."
Still. How could a child share the viewpoints of a deadly pirate warlord? Especially if Kaido had abandoned him. Zoro had been cast aside long ago, and dammit, why was it the same? Why could Sanji feel his own past rearing its ugly head in parallel fashion, and why was it Zoro who seemed to share his experience?
How had he known...somehow...that Zoro understood…?
"The Empress trusts Zoro…" Sanji found himself muttering after a quiet minute, and dammit, he almost felt like he was defending himself now, justifying his own existence through the guise of Zoro's.
Zoro seemed to think Sanji's existence was justified. He'd continually saved his life, after all...
"And I trust—"
He paused, his own apparent trust of the swordsman nearly spilling out far too quickly for his liking, certainly quicker than his mind could process. So he amended his statement.
"—her judgment," he continued, and he didn't elaborate. If he admitted to his friendship with the Empress, his own origins might come into question. And how would that be received?
Instead, Sanji implored, "Please do not direct your anger at the Empress… I can't imagine it's her wish to perpetuate the discrimination."
Thankfully, despite his careful words, the woman smiled slightly, giving one last pat to Tama's finished hair before she settled her hands primly in her lap and shifted to face him fully.
"I know this," she replied. "Hitetsu knows this as well." Her back straightened then, almost proudly. "My husband served the Kozuki family for many years as one of their most trusted samurai. I feel true dismay, witnessing what has become of our once united country…" Her voice quieted. "As I'm sure my husband would as well, had he not fallen during Kaido's attack…"
Sanji wilted, familiar sorrow washing over him, even if he knew nothing of this woman's husband. "I'm sorry…"
But she shook her head, determination the only visible emotion in her eyes.
"Do not be," she replied, lips turning up in reassurance. "I only hope there can come a day when Wano can live in harmony once more. I have faith…"
"You do…?" Sanji asked, feeling his eyebrow lift, if not in skepticism, then certainly in surprise. Even the Empress and her retainer had seemed rather resigned about their country's fate.
But Tsuru seemed sure of herself, her gaze unexpectedly fixed on him, as if he was the reason for her faith. And soon enough, she confirmed it.
"Yes," she said. "Because good still exists in this world. Someone like you has come along."
Automatically, despite her words, Sanji frowned. What made him special? What stood out about him during their very brief acquaintanceship that was so "good," as she said? He supposed his way of thinking didn't align with the typical Wano citizen's, but what power could he possibly have to affect things here, in a country he barely knew?
Her smile was somehow knowing though, and he suddenly felt rather exposed, as if this woman could see straight through him and knew, if not of his family, then of his struggles. Knew him better than he perhaps knew himself. She couldn't know who he really was, could she?
Tsuru gave no indication either way though, and Sanji found himself glad when a grumbling voice interrupted the silence, saving him from any further questioning or forced explanations.
Through the front doorway came Hitetsu, stepping down from his tall sandals and crossing the mats with something unexpected in hand: a sword, its sheath dark blue, the hilt wrapped tightly in a similarly hued fabric.
The thing was long and intimidating and heavy when the man passed it directly into Sanji's arms, the blond fumbling to grab ahold of it in his surprise.
"No bows here," the man muttered. "Take it or leave it."
Sanji gaped down at the weapon, noting its slight curve, the tassels wrapped around the sheath, which he saw, upon closer inspection, was etched with a sprawling pattern of angry waves crashing in the sea.
It was beautiful, a work of art in itself, and one Sanji knew he had no hope of wielding, not as it should be wielded.
A memory flashed through his mind of a similar moment, himself as a boy nearly falling over under the weight of the enormous broadsword his father had shoved at him, some terrible hope on his menacing features that Sanji would be able to use it with the same raw power as his siblings.
Of course he hadn't been able to. Of course he wouldn't be able to now.
But he found himself nodding, accepting the weapon. For now at least… Until he could find another bow. Perhaps the Empress had one…
And yet for a second, he shared his father's past hope, that maybe he could learn how to use the blade…
After all, hadn't Zoro agreed to stick around…?
Still, it felt far too foreign, almost inappropriate, for him to be holding such a weapon. He certainly felt like an imposter, the weight of the blade drooping awkwardly at his side, hitting his leg when he eventually exited the house some time later, having thanked the gruff Hitetsu, as well as Tsuru and Tama, who'd insisted he stay for a cup of tea at least before he left.
They'd graciously offered him a new pair of sandals, the girl squeezing him tight for another hug, then let him go on his way.
A few curses escaped him as soon as he was outside, directed at the blade itself, the blond shoving at the cumbersome sword's hilt, fingers fumbling to tie his sash tighter as he stepped out onto the dirt road once more, when a gravelly voice caught his attention.
"Did you get him? Let me guess. He got thrown in the dungeon, and Kawamatsu's singing your praises—!"
Sanji's eyes slunk to the neighboring gap between the houses, noting the owner of the voice crouched on the dirt near the opening, his features rather piglike, sneering toothily as he spoke, purple spikes of hair wild atop his head, gathered in a fluffy topknot.
The blond wasn't even surprised when his eyes next locked with Zoro's, the familiar swordsman tucked inside the mouth of the alley, where he still sat on the ground, lounging back casually against the wall.
The mosshead hardly seemed perturbed to see Sanji, despite the hushed tone of his conversation partner, who quickly let out a disgruntled noise of shock when Zoro merely pointed at the blond lazily.
"They were friends, he and the Empress. No way he's seeing any dungeon," Zoro replied, and Sanji now knew exactly who had been the topic of conversation.
Himself, the swordsman's piercing eyes not leaving his for an instant...
The blond felt a prickling of discomfort shoot through him when the crouching man's shock upon seeing him turned to discernible contempt, features scrunching into a glare, his pointed mustache like a second set of angry eyebrows over his clenched teeth.
It set Sanji's heart thudding faster, the familiar desire to remove himself quickly from the situation growing within him.
But that oddly scrutinizing glare lasted but a moment, the stranger's beady eyes flicking over Sanji once more before his expression simmered back into something more detached.
"A prince of Germa? Friends with the Empress…?" the man muttered, almost to himself more so than Zoro, and Sanji couldn't help the jolt of panic that shot through him. He knew?
But the man disclosed nothing, just let out a derisive scoff before uttering, "How surprising…"
And he said no more, merely got to his feet with some effort and shot a pointed look at Zoro, his shoulders hunched. Sanji caught a glimpse of the dark Seal on his chest as the man shot back one last sneer before skulking off down the dirt road.
The blond stood his ground, despite the uncomfortable feeling in his chest, the man's clear distaste lingering in the air, in a way Sanji hadn't felt directed at him personally since arriving in Wano.
He glared sullenly after the man's retreating form until he turned a corner and disappeared from sight. Only then did he fix his attention back on Zoro.
"Friend of yours?" he deadpanned.
If that was the unpleasant kind of person Zoro associated with, then Sanji had to admit to a twinge of disappointment.
Yet, Zoro simply shrugged, as indifferent as ever, and the swordsman finally dropped his affecting stare to close his eyes instead, crossing arms behind his head.
"I don't do the whole friend thing," he said. Then, with a little more sarcasm, he added, "Not like you and Hiyori."
And why mention that? Sanji wondered with growing irritation. He couldn't imagine a man who was so focused on his loner reputation caring much for Sanji's own relationships, of which he had few, thank you very much.
"I don't do it either," the blond shot back, feeling more defensive than pathetic in that moment, as if to prove to the brute that he didn't need friends. "She's the only one I ever made."
Zoro shrugged again and replied, "Right."
How one word could incite a rise out of him, Sanji didn't know, but it didn't much matter.
Zoro wouldn't hurt him. He was quite sure of that now, and so he had no hesitation barking back, "You don't know shit about my life."
"So you've said," Zoro mumbled, sounding almost bored, and the silence that followed was enough to leave Sanji feeling frustrated.
As if he didn't feel stupid enough standing there, bristling with pent-up energy, while the idiot swordsman all but ignored him.
"Did you tell that man who I was? How did he know?" Sanji hissed, his voice lowering but still clouded with anger.
Hadn't he and Zoro been making some headway towards cordiality? Or so Sanji had assumed, especially after their ordeal in the canal.
But now Zoro seemed put out by Sanji's existence again, and there was something immensely frustrating about that.
"I didn't tell him," Zoro said. "Orochi keeps tabs on everyone. Sure he figured it out from your wanted poster."
Orochi… So that was the man Hitetsu so disapproved of… And Sanji couldn't fathom how his anonymous wanted poster alone could have given him away.
A brewing discontent settled in his gut, the fear that maybe Zoro was lying to him stirring there, more painful than he wanted to admit. He hated that he'd actually wanted to trust the man.
Yet Zoro stared back at him steadily now, almost daring him to question his word, and Sanji couldn't help the feeling that he was being tested in some way, though how exactly he didn't know.
This was probably the part when most people would walk away from him, and Zoro seemed to be highly aware of that, his expression turning steely and guarded.
Sanji knew he could have, and the day before he certainly would have. But then what…? He'd be back at square one with a promise to the Empress to uphold and no way to fulfill it.
The blond huffed, his uncomfortable need to rely on the swordsman rearing up to overtake his doubts.
"As long as he doesn't stir shit up…" Sanji mumbled dejectedly, staring off down the road once more.
When he looked back at Zoro, the swordsman's eyes had closed again, his brow mid-furrow, but he said nothing.
"So now what?" Sanji grumbled after a minute, quite happy to interrupt Zoro's brooding when he received a satisfyingly annoyed frown in response.
And that frown preceded the return of Zoro's gaze, the swordsman looking almost confused for a moment, so Sanji elaborated, for the sake of the fool's slow mind.
"Are you still going to show me around or not?"
Zoro's gaze instantly flicked to the sword tied to Sanji's hip like an out-of-place limb, causing the blond to fidget self-consciously.
"I oughta teach you how to swim first…" Zoro finally muttered, though the tilt of his eyebrow had regained its persistent flash of challenge, and Sanji found himself glaring at him in lieu of the less mature eye roll he nearly responded with.
But Zoro was getting to his feet, arching his back in a languid stretch, followed by a few unsightly (surely purposeful) cracks of his neck.
"Come on," the swordsman grunted once he seemed satisfied with the alignment of his bones.
He stepped out from the alleyway and physically shouldered past the blond, to his chagrin, despite there being plenty of space to move around him.
Sanji caught the mosshead's gaze dropping to his new sword once more.
"And don't curse at it," Zoro said as he walked past. "It's disrespectful."
He didn't wait for Sanji's response, merely set off down the path.
It took a beat, the blond staring after him for a few moments, struggling to piece together what the hell the strange man was referring to.
Until it dawned on him, once he'd stooped to the idiot's mental capacity.
"Like it can hear me! It's a sword!" he shrieked in response.
"And you're an idiot," Zoro shot over his shoulder without stopping.
"What?!"
He stomped up to Zoro's side then, making sure to jab the swordsman in the waist with the blade's hilt.
"Teach me how to use it then," the blond insisted, that bit of hope from earlier bubbling up within him. He also hoped it wasn't conveyed in his tone.
From the long glare Zoro shot at him, Sanji expected a refusal…
But then the swordsman merely shoved him aside with a muttered, "Keep up," as he continued marching on.
The blond was left with no choice but to hurry after him, struggling to keep a grin off his face, despite Zoro's brutish bullying. Maybe now, he could properly learn to retaliate, and even that small incentive was enough.
Sanji wasn't sure what he'd imagined when he pictured training. Fierce cries. Sweat. Exertion. Something intense, especially when it appeared it was all the swordsman did, the man's body practically sculpted from marble. The image of his defined muscles still stood out uncomfortably in Sanji's brain, after all.
It certainly didn't help that the swordsman seemed to want to remind him, his bare torso still free of his robe, even if he'd dried off ages ago, though the sheen of sweat now glistened on his skin instead.
Still, these were things the blond knew he should ignore as they walked in silence, the initial bickering falling off as his mind lost its excited bravado and began to race around what might ultimately be his demise, his own lack of strength in the smug face of Zoro's.
He wasn't expecting to follow the swordsman from the settlement, down the worn road that quickly turned to a narrow dirt trail through the forest.
In fact, it was hardly a trail, more of a chance break in the foliage, and Sanji began to wonder if Zoro even had any direction in mind….or if they'd simply wander forever. Maybe this was training? Certainly training for his patience, at any rate...
The woods grew denser, humidity hanging heavily in the air under the midday sun that now blazed through the branches, and though it was bright, the deeper they went, the more Sanji felt paranoia creeping at the corners of his senses.
Wasn't this the beast's home? Weren't they in danger going out this far? He wasn't naive enough to assume otherwise now, and while he'd seen some proof of the swordsman's skill against the thug in town, he couldn't be certain he was in good hands if faced again with a monstrous feline.
He slipped behind Zoro, was forced to when the almost nonexistent path narrowed, tall plants parting when the swordsman pushed them aside ahead of him, only to smack back in Sanji's face when he moved through. Sanji was sure he was doing it on purpose, the blond's quiet grumbles and huffs becoming more and more frequent the longer the trek went on.
Not to mention, the heat began to climb, Sanji's hair beginning to stick to his face, the awful feeling of sweat sliding steadily down his neck and back making him tug at his own robe in discomfort. The air hung stagnant around them, no breeze for respite, and dammit, he'd known Wano was a southern kingdom, but this was ridiculous.
How could the stupid mosshead press on through this jungle without complaint? Did he enjoy trekking through this stifling heat, breathing more water than air in this damn humidity?
And when what had to be the fiftieth massive fern slapped him in the forehead, Sanji was finally about to protest loudly.
Until he realized that was the last fern standing between him and a clearing beyond, though the canopy of leaves still speckled over the blue of the sky.
The sudden sound of rushing water grabbed Sanji's attention almost instantly, and he realized, with some degree of surprise, that the path had brought them to the edge of an embankment where a stream bubbled and rushed with urgency. A few wooden stakes of an ancient-looking fence were all that stood between the narrow path and the steep slope that dropped to the water below them.
Zoro didn't stop there, however, still moving steadily upstream towards, unexpectedly, a small waterfall, the water tumbling over massive boulders until it reached their level, close enough for Sanji to touch if he hopped over those giant rocks.
He must have been halfway off the path already because he felt a hand clamp down on his wrist, stopping him from moving.
"Shoes off," Zoro said, releasing Sanji only to remove his own sandals, the blond tentatively following suit.
And Sanji saw why when the natural path beneath their feet led them to a curve in the stream where that path turned quickly to flat stone, wet stone at that, something their wooden sandals had no hope of gripping. Sanji was amazed to see a long manmade staircase suddenly stretching up over the water, the sloped chasm that surrounded them on either side of the stream twisting itself and rising up into sheer stone faces, impossible for trees to cling to.
The spray of cool water suddenly whipped over Sanji's face in a continuous wind that replaced the humidity with a strange anticipation for what lay ahead, at the top of that staircase.
They were going there, Zoro already climbing fearlessly up a few fallen boulders and grabbing onto a stone marker built into the rock, scrawled with a vertical writing Sanji didn't understand. It gave the swordsman leverage to swing himself up to the foot of the staircase where he paused, glancing back to stare at Sanji expectantly.
The blond huffed out a breath, wondering how the lumbering oaf could make such fluid strides. He glanced down at his own waist, at that cumbersome sword that would surely hinder him, but if Zoro could do it with such ease, then dammit, he had to try.
So he stepped up onto the first rock, and just as his hand reached for a higher one, he felt fingers grip his tightly and give a strong tug. Sanji followed the momentum, made the steps much more easily than anticipated until he stood beside Zoro, whose stoic expression didn't change, save for an almost challenging quirk of his brow.
Then he'd released Sanji's hand and was moving again, up that stone staircase, which stood almost carpeted in soft moss from what must have been years of disuse. Sanji wondered with a twinge of amusement if Zoro's hair had grown green due to neglect as well.
But his amusement didn't last long before, in its stead, a powerful gust of awe hit him, just as powerful as the misty wind that now swept through his hair as he stepped around the bend of the rock wall and mounted the stairs.
Amazingly, directly below the staircase churned a series of waterfalls, previously out of sight but now tumbling in tiers down the mountainside.
Sanji's breath caught, and he quickly moved to the stairs' railing to peer over the edge at the sight, letting the spray of water hit his face and the wind whip around him like a hurricane. The thrill of it brought a smile to his lips, and he was vaguely aware of the swordsman stopping a few steps above him.
Maybe he should have been surprised to see Zoro's eyes on him when he finally glanced up, the ghost of a smirk on his face, but for some reason the swordsman's intense gaze was becoming familiar, almost expected.
Sanji looked away in pure reflex, watching the roaring water again, but only for a moment before he found himself looking back at Zoro. He tried to contain the exhilaration on his face, but it wasn't quite working.
"Wow," he said simply, jerking his chin towards the sight, something that earned him a flash of teeth from the swordsman.
"There's more," Zoro replied over the rush of the water, and then he was climbing the stairs again, leaving Sanji with no choice but to follow, a little torn about continuing so soon. He could have stood with that view for a damn while longer.
"More?" Sanji shot back in disbelief as they ascended the stairs, reaching the flat landing, the walkway turning to continue up one last flight, this time climbing the wooded hillside.
Zoro didn't reply or look back, merely stopped at the top ahead of him, so Sanji let out a huff, his hand gripping the mossy stone railing, hurrying up himself.
And his eyes widened when he saw, between the overhanging foliage, the scalloped roof of a tall pagoda suddenly appear, looming higher and higher the closer he came until, by the time he stood beside Zoro, the pair was dwarfed by an enormous wooden temple standing before them.
Moss clung to its pillars, vines dripping from its rooftop, the structure seemingly lost in time as the forest reclaimed it.
Sanji heard Zoro snicker, most likely at his stupidly gaping jaw, but his gaze was far too occupied with the massive statues of menacing deities that glared out at him from caged alcoves at the temple's entrance. Their angry expressions mimicked Hitetsu's mask, poses fierce and aggressive as if they were about to break free of their imprisonment at any moment.
"It's the Scabbards' temple."
Sanji finally looked over at the swordsman, whose eyes roved over the structure too, suddenly looking far more relaxed than Sanji had seen him all day.
"They used to train here," Zoro continued, meeting Sanji's eye. "But it's been abandoned for years."
"Why…?" Sanji murmured, unsure how such a magnificent place could be forgotten.
"They're dead," Zoro replied simply.
Oh. Right.
Sanji sighed, wondering if the conversation would take a downturn, but Zoro's eyes were clear, a smirk even coming to his face.
"The new guard train in the Capital," Zoro explained, flashing a broader grin as he finally brushed past the blond towards the closed doors at the foot of the temple.
"So it's mine now," he finished proudly, his fingers curling around the tarnished ring of gold that served as the door's handle.
Then he gave a hard yank, somehow managing to pull open the massive door, which looked like it hadn't budged in a hundred years, holding it in clear indication for Sanji to pass through first.
The blond did, thankful for the remnants of a walkway beneath his feet, and when he moved through, he was surprised to find, not an interior, but an overgrown courtyard, more of those strange pole-like trees and plants sprouting up from the perimeter of the packed-down sand that spread out inside the building's walls.
And on the far end, the mountain's slope rose up in a steep cliff from which spouted a line of stone dragon heads, water pouring from each of their mouths in a perfect row of seven small waterfalls, each falling several persons' length to a long rock-lined pool below.
Sanji heard the door close heavily behind him, and when Zoro stepped up to his side, this time it felt strangely intimate, the two of them alone together. It was certainly quieter, and it was clear by the look on Zoro's face that this place was special to him, perhaps far more than Sanji knew, though he could certainly relate… Hadn't the castle kitchens always been that for him?
Sanji was beginning to get the feeling that this was a show of trust, being shown Zoro's place of respite...
He tried not to think about the warmth in his chest at that thought.
"It's amazing…." he breathed instead. "I've never seen any place like it…"
It was an admission he hadn't allowed himself to make the day before, laying eyes upon the Flower Capital for the first time. He hadn't wanted his own inexperience to show, for fear of what it would bring him, but for some reason, in that moment, he felt his qualms tumbling as quickly as those uniform waterfalls. He would miss this beauty when he left Wano. It was a shame he couldn't stay.
"S'easy to forget shit here…" Zoro murmured, Sanji's eyes flicking his way to see the swordsman nodding as if he'd seen right through to Sanji's thoughts and understood.
The warmth inside him flared, enough that he chose to quickly stifle it, a deep breath clearing the sentimental fog clouding him.
"So you train here now?" Sanji asked, noting the distinct lack of anything he'd expect to see on a training ground—targets, practice dummies, armor….people. The only evidence he saw was a few mutilated posts, some with bundles of straw tied to them, hacked short.
"Uh huh," Zoro replied simply, not even sparing Sanji a glance as he set off to cross the courtyard.
"By yourself?" Sanji pressed, walking up beside him.
Zoro rolled his eyes in response, but said nothing.
"There's hardly anything here," Sanji clarified because, as far as he knew from his own experience, that should warrant confusion. His father's training grounds had been elaborate….deadly...
"Obviously," Zoro said.
"Obviously? What about—fighting?" Sanji huffed. "Cutting shit? Combat practice?"
"That's part of it."
A big part, as far as Sanji knew.
"Yeah, and that's the part that's going to help us go up against the monster!" he justified.
"Shut up," Zoro snapped, shooting a glare at the blond. "You're jittery as hell. You need to learn to calm your senses first. Or you'll never have any hope of wielding a weapon."
It was Sanji's turn to roll his eyes, the swordsman's critique hardly unexpected. He'd heard it time and time again, after all, what a damned failure he was, hopelessly timid when he should have been strong. He remembered the early days, after all, when he'd still accompanied his siblings to the training grounds.
He remembered Ichiji dodging every attack thrown at him, as if it were as easy as breathing, Niji slashing through dozens of opponents with his manic speed, Yonji crumbling brick walls with a single punch. Even Reiju would step in on occasion, felling challengers with poisonous accuracy.
They'd taken down adults more than double their size and all Sanji could do was watch and wonder why he was different, why he couldn't muster that speed or strength….that mercilessness. Even in the face of punishment, of pain….he couldn't.
He'd heard it all. He knew what he was…
And Zoro had already picked up on it.
Sanji blinked, slipping back to the present when he felt fingers clamp onto his wrist, give a tug until he realized they'd reached the line of waterfalls, Zoro standing stoically beside him.
The blond's gaze drifted up to those stone dragons, their eyes blank but piercing, almost perceptive, as they loomed over him. Were they judging him too?
"There are seven virtues of a true samurai."
Sanji glanced over to see Zoro staring up at the dragons too, glancing at Sanji for but a moment before he jerked his chin towards the dragons, above which, Sanji noticed, was a different symbol carved in the rock over each.
Sanji had no hope of deciphering them, but Zoro seemed to be able to as he continued.
"Integrity. Courage. Compassion. Humility. Honesty. Honor. And loyalty."
Zoro's voice was quiet, certainly reverent, and yet Sanji felt the need to scoff.
"Well, you certainly don't embody all of them," he muttered, but Zoro immediately shot back, "Do you?"
Of course he didn't. At least, not as he saw himself...
Sanji's shoulders slumped and he looked away, feeling foolish. "I…never claimed that..."
"Then keep your mouth shut," Zoro scolded, already slipping his swords from his sash and plunking down onto the edge of the pool.
Sanji blinked at him, unsure why the hell he was settling so comfortably.
"Uh...what are you doing?" the blond asked. "Aren't we going to train?"
"You really can't shut up, can you," Zoro huffed.
"I'm curious!"
The swordsman groaned, then fixed Sanji with a look, irritation clear on his features. "You're impatient is what," he muttered. A sigh followed though, and his eyes sharpened.
"Look," Zoro said eventually. "If you're so damn curious about shit, I'll tell you something important."
Sanji's eyebrows pulled down, the blond slowly moving to take a seat beside the swordsman, despite his confusion, removing his own sword and setting it down on the lip of the pool too.
As soon as he had, Zoro leaned forward conspiratorially, despite their isolation.
"Tama's the only one who can defeat the monster," he said, something that had Sanji draw back in shock.
"What?" he stammered, images of the little girl hacking a sword at the giant beast bursting through his mind. "Don't tell me she's a samurai too!"
But Zoro merely gave a long-suffering sigh and shook his head.
"Then how—" Sanji started.
"Her Seal, idiot."
Oh, Sanji thought, his image of the child destroying demons shattering quickly, as incredible as it could have been. But still...
"Zoro, even if she can tame it, you can't send a little kid out into the forest to take on that thing! It could kill her before she even gets the chance!"
Again, Zoro rolled his eyes, lip curling. "I wouldn't do that."
"I'm still not sure what you're capable of…"
And it was true. He still knew next to nothing about this man, aside from his own intuition to trust him and the word of a few people.
But he saw the way Zoro's shoulders slumped, his gaze turning downcast, anger seeming to slip inward instead, enough that when Sanji spoke again, his voice had automatically softened.
"That's why she's been giving you dumplings with her power…" he guessed. "So you can feed it."
Zoro nodded silently, breaking yet another assumption in the blond's mind. Zoro may have been many moronic things, but he was not a freeloader. Something about that was a relief...
"So, what the fuck!" Sanji huffed, trying to catch Zoro's gaze again, to see some of the life return to his eyes. "Just feed them to the beast and it won't be an issue anymore! The thing will follow anything she says!"
It worked, Zoro sitting up to look at him again.
"It's not that simple," he justified. "It deserves to die."
"Zoro, it's an animal."
"It kills," Zoro retorted instantly. "It almost killed you."
"Because it was hunting!" Sanji cried, tossing up hands. "It was just following its instincts!"
It was Sanji's turn to growl under his breath. Why was killing always the answer? It always had been with his father, his siblings. Was he the strange one? Was it strange, in this world, to want to preserve life?
Maybe that was why he so often felt he didn't belong… Clearly this wasn't the world he was meant to inhabit if these were the morals that abounded.
"I don't believe wild animals have bloodlust," he continued after a minute. "That's a human thing. Or...a you thing."
Zoro just gave an exasperated sigh, and why was the swordsman even fighting this so hard? He had to know… He didn't want Zoro to be that callous.
"If there's no reason to slaughter it, then why slaughter it?" Sanji pressed, and he was surprised when Zoro replied. Not by his words, but by his tone.
"Everyone wants it dead!" he said. "It could still hurt people!"
His voice was tired, almost pleading, and there was an unexpected pain in his eyes that made something click into place in Sanji's mind. Because he recognized that look, or, at least, he thought he did, and suddenly, the thought became tangible….that Zoro's history with this beast might be more than he'd originally let on.
Had he lost someone too…?
"If Tama's power can tame it, then that's how I want to defeat it," Sanji replied slowly after a minute. "I'm certainly not bloodthirsty." Of course there was the fact that he couldn't physically defeat it, but he chose not to focus on that.
Zoro's brow furrowed slightly, his mouth working for words for a moment.
When he replied, his voice had quieted.
"You're not...scared of it…?" he asked, fixated intently on Sanji as if his answer was somehow important.
"Of course I am," the blond assured, resisting the urge to pull a face, not wanting to upset the man further. "Because I don't want to be mauled to shreds and eaten, thank you. But there are scarier things out there."
"Like…?" Zoro prompted.
"Do you really need examples?" Sanji shot back.
Receiving nothing but a glare in return, Sanji turned up his palms.
"What I just said," he continued. "Humans. Humans with bad intentions. You of all people should know that."
"And how do you know that?" Zoro asked carefully, and they were back to this, it seemed, back at the precipice of Sanji's history that he'd so far shied away from.
The swordsman's insistence was subtle, but persistent nonetheless, and for the first time since arriving in Wano, Sanji decided to allow that persistence to punch through, if only a small amount. After all, he remembered what Tsuru had told him about Zoro's past…. He remembered that perhaps they had more in common than he'd believed possible.
The first brick of his wall fell.
"Germa is not a nice place," Sanji muttered simply.
"But you're a prince—"
"Stop calling me that!" the blond huffed immediately, and yes, he was sure of it now. Zoro was definitely trying to pull down far more bricks than Sanji was willing to give up.
But desperation rose within him, the deep annoyance over the fact that the oaf just didn't get it. How could he, living in this country?
"You have the wrong idea!" Sanji growled, his chest clenching with anger. "The way things are with the Empress? Here? In Wano? It's not like that where I'm from. My father is one step away from Kaido!"
"Yeah fucking right—" Zoro muttered darkly, giving a rude snort.
"Shut up! You have no idea what it's like there!" Sanji cried, and he had to consciously force himself to calm down, to lower his voice. He dropped his head, running hands over his face for a moment, heartbeat thundering uncomfortably in his ears.
"...Look," he breathed after a moment, more to himself than to Zoro. "I'm not about to have a competition over whose life is worse, alright?"
A heavy sigh left him, and when Zoro didn't reply, he risked a glance at the other man, fearing a sneer or glower.
But it seemed the swordsman was done fighting him on the matter, his eyes lingering on Sanji for a few seconds before he too sighed and settled back, pulling swords into his lap and examining the hilts as if he'd decided to ignore Sanji's presence entirely, yet again.
And it seemed he most certainly had decided this when he set his swords aside altogether and pulled legs up, crossing them and straightening his back, planting hands firmly on his knees and closing his eyes.
The blond gaped at him as if he'd lost his mind, watching the swordsman still.
He wasn't going to sleep, no….his breaths were too measured for that.
This was….meditation….? It wasn't a common practice in his own country, but the blond recognized the pose. His brothers had mocked it on the rare occasion his kingdom hosted foreign warriors.
Well, whatever the hell it was, Sanji wasn't going to allow the man to pretend his prying hadn't happened. If Zoro thought it was fine to pry, then Sanji would very happily return the favor.
So he ducked his head to stare at the swordsman's features, which had regained quite a bit of youth in their relaxing state, brows no longer drawn tight, lips bowed softly above his angular chin. There was even a bit of rosy sunburn dusting his nose, highlighting a few faint freckles. Why did he frown so much when his resting face was so….?
Sanji cut off his own thoughts, unsure of where they were even wandering. He hadn't noticed his observation of the swordsman had led him to lean closer, and it was close enough that he had to sit back again, pretending he hadn't moved.
"So what is your Seal anyway?" Sanji asked to distract himself, satisfied when Zoro tensed the instant he broke the silence. "Why not use your own and leave helpless children out of it altogether?"
It was as if Zoro had been expecting the interruption, as he replied, but didn't open his eyes.
"It's nothing that can do any good," he said quietly, still facing straight ahead. "That's why I'm a swordsman. And a true swordsman doesn't use gimmicks. I grow by my own natural strength."
Sanji scoffed loudly in hopes Zoro would look at him again, and it worked, Sanji's smirk turning smug when their eyes finally met, the swordsman lifting an unamused brow.
"You call any of this natural?" he said, mimicking Zoro's pose to exaggerated effect, earning him enough of a neolithic death glare from the man that he had to chuckle.
"Besides," Sanji added. "It's not a gimmick! It's your birthright. You were born with it, weren't you? You're lucky enough to have one, so embrace it!"
"I'm allowed to do what I want," Zoro muttered, turning his head and closing eyes again in a clear attempt to end the conversation.
But Sanji was stubborn, pressing again, "Have you ever used it?"
Zoro's head whipped towards him suddenly with deadly focus, enough to have Sanji jump back slightly in surprise, both at the sudden movement and the strange return of that pain he thought he'd done well to banish from Zoro's eyes.
"Why are you so damn fascinated by it? You trying to mock me?" the swordsman hissed, past irritation to something beyond...something more powerful.
"No!" Sanji huffed, and if his own wall had lost a few bricks, he could practically see those same bricks piling on top of Zoro's. "No, why would I—?"
"How the fuck do I know you're not thinking about killing me for it! Since you're so obsessed." That edge of desperation had returned to Zoro's voice, as if he hoped it wasn't the truth but feared it was.
"I'm not!" Sanji assured quickly, his hands coming up defensively before they slowly lowered to his lap and he looked away, a little ashamed of himself. As fun as it was to rile the man up, he'd clearly pushed too far this time, and it was enough that he had to sigh.
"I'm sorry," he eventually said sincerely. "It just….having one would've made my life a lot easier. I can't help but fixate…"
He trailed off, trying not to fall into sulking, but certainly feeling emotionally compromised. He wished he could stop that fixation. He wished he could stop comparing himself to others. He wished he could cultivate his own damned worth.
He shouldn't have said anything. He shouldn't have tried to break the man's guard, especially knowing how it felt himself. He hadn't thought himself that insensitive, but it seemed there was a lot he didn't know about himself...
Silence fell between the two again, for long enough that Sanji contemplated getting up and finding his way back to the village. It was enough to make the self-hatred start its slow descent over his mind again…
But then Zoro spoke, and there was something in his voice that sent a pang through Sanji's chest because the anger was gone. Everything was gone from his demeanor save for a genuine confusion.
"Why did you run from me then….?" he murmured. "When I first brought you to the Capital…"
Sanji allowed himself to look at the swordsman again, observe the intensity in his eyes, his light breathing, inaudible under the rush of the water behind them.
He studied the hilt of his new sword instead, tracing the tightly-wrapped fabric on the handle as some sort of comfort to himself.
It took him a minute to reply, a minute full of doubts and insecurities telling him to keep his mouth shut as usual, to avoid the truth that so often rendered him powerless.
But in that moment, he was also powerless to resist that truth tumbling out of him.
"I didn't run because of you…" Sanji murmured, wishing he couldn't feel Zoro's gaze still boring into him. "I ran because….all the jeers, the looks from the townspeople. Even today…" He shuddered at the memory. "It reminded me of a time in my life I'd like to forget, and it was too much. So don't give yourself all the credit. You're not that scary."
He tried to end his confession with sarcasm, but he knew it hadn't concealed anything, not when his voice was too unsteady, not when his eyes burned and his throat tightened uncomfortably.
Zoro exhaled heavily beside him, a shaky sound, but the blond didn't spare him a glance, unwilling to see whatever negative reaction no doubt lingered on the swordsman's face.
He'd said Zoro wasn't scary, but the isolation he could bring about with his rejection….that was another thing entirely.
Perhaps he should have kept his guard up though, because a moment later, Zoro's hand clamped onto his arm unexpectedly, the swordsman giving a hard, painful yank that sent Sanji tumbling off the low wall into the pool behind them, a yelp escaping him as he crashed into the freezing water. He barely managed to suck in a breath before he found himself submerged, limbs automatically flailing in a frantic panic.
But then, almost immediately, his back hit the bottom of the pool and he sat up with a pronounced gasp, the shallow water barely reaching his waist.
He sat there in shock, panting and dripping, Zoro's smug grin fixed on him from several feet away.
"Wanna take that back?" the swordsman asked far too gleefully, and it took Sanji a few extra seconds to realize he was referring to Sanji's 'scary' quip.
The blond scowled, only for dread to overcome him a second later when Zoro pushed up and splashed feet into the water himself. The swordsman grabbed Sanji's collar and began dragging him, despite his attempts to pull himself away, directly towards the row of waterfalls. It took but a moment for Sanji to realize his intentions.
"O-Oi, what the hell are you—?!"
But it was a moment too late. Zoro shoved him right underneath one of the waterfalls spouting from above, the column of water crashing down onto Sanji's head in an ice cold torrent.
An unbecoming screech and a string of spluttered curses, Sanji's fingers doing their best to tear holes in Zoro's robe as he tried to claw his way free.
Zoro was an unmoving, unflinching rock though, his hands pushing strongly on Sanji's shoulders, keeping him in place, and when Sanji managed to glare up at him through the curtain of water cascading over his face, the swordsman's smirk was downright devilish.
"Sit. Focus," Zoro ordered simply, and Sanji found himself too dumbfounded to question it, merely gaped at the man as he finally stepped back, removing his hands…
...only to sit down beneath the stream of water beside him, assuming the same straight-backed, cross-legged pose he had before, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
He gave no further instruction, and in fact, the strange bastard closed his eyes again, effectively putting an end to their interaction once more.
Sanji stared for a minute more, unfortunately feeling every insult or response he could have had disappearing from his mind, the sensation of that water continuously pelting his head and shoulders the only thing filling his senses. It felt like bullets on his bandaged wound, and damn it all, Tsuru's meticulous bandage job was now thoroughly ruined.
But the longer he sat there, with the roar of water in his ears and the sight of that tranquil courtyard before him, the more his fight left him. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he removed arms from his robe, taking his injured shoulder out of the water's direct range, and closed his eyes, crossing legs and settling into the same pose he'd just teased Zoro for minutes earlier.
He grew accustomed to the water temperature, still cold but no longer stakes of icicles against his bare skin. He slowed his breaths, let that exhaustion he'd been struck with in the village come over him once more, calming his mind.
It felt odd, at first, to let his guard down so completely. Sanji wasn't even sure he was capable of it, afraid he would flinch back to awareness at the slightest hint of a disturbance, but how could he when there was nothing to hear but his own heartbeat, nothing to feel but that cool spray.
He saw nothing behind his closed eyelids, his mind becoming void of stress and uncertainty for the first time in what felt like forever, certainly since his mother's death.
He didn't even see her as he drifted into nothingness, decided he didn't want to, for once, didn't want to dwell on things he couldn't change, didn't want to exist in that moment because it was easier, far less painful, to disappear.
He saw nothing for the longest time, not his brothers' hateful faces nor his father's fists.
Just black...and a pair of beastly red eyes coming into focus in the darkness.
It didn't startle him this time, surprisingly, and in fact, the eyes merely floated there, studying...not with killer intent, but with curiosity, the outline of that feline face just barely coming into view.
The creature tilted its head, flashing incisors when its mouth opened with a low huffed growl. Still massive as ever...
But it didn't move, didn't come closer...
It wouldn't hurt him. Not now at least. He didn't want to kill it. It shouldn't have to die.
Zoro was wrong about that.
Zoro was…
…
He felt a hand touch his cheek in the darkness, a gentle, tentative touch that was somehow familiar….
It was gone as soon as it appeared, though he felt it move to his shoulder where it gripped with more certainty and gave a light shake.
Sanji wasn't expecting it to take so much of his energy to crawl back to the light, his eyelids feeling heavy when he finally opened them to find Zoro standing before him, his hand falling back to his side where fingers clenched a little awkwardly.
The light silhouetting him from behind was far lower in the sky, shadows stretching longer across the ground.
How long had they been there…?
"You should get back to the palace," Zoro was saying, adding, almost in answer to Sanji's mental question, "It's getting late."
The blond huffed, working to gather his senses a bit, something that seemed to happen in one fell swoop the second he moved out from under the waterfall.
Zoro caught his elbow as he stood, the swordsman pulling his hand back quickly as if the reflex had surprised him, and just like that, the world was back in stark clarity—the humidity in the air, the slight throb of his injury, the chill of his damp robes, the tension lingering between them, though Sanji could have imagined that...
"We haven't even trained," Sanji muttered eventually, brow furrowed as he tried to clear his head, feeling as if he'd just awoken from another strange dream, only to land in a stranger one that left his heart pounding and his breaths difficult.
Zoro moved away and that feeling dissipated somewhat, the blond letting out a harsh breath.
"Yes, we have," the swordsman replied, cryptic as ever, but this time, Sanji opted not to voice his confusion, unsure if he even felt up to training in that moment.
He watched Zoro for a moment as the other man stepped out of the pool and gathered his swords, securing them to his hip once more.
It certainly looked like the man was preparing to leave, so Sanji followed slowly, wading through the water and climbing out of the pool himself, though he lingered, settling himself on the edge, watching the swordsman throw the wet fabric of his green robe over his shoulders.
"Let me guess," Sanji eventually said, eyes not leaving the swordsman. "You're going after the beast."
"Yup," Zoro replied without glancing back.
"Alone?"
"Yup."
Alone…
Sanji fell quiet, an odd disappointment filling his chest that had no business being there. His own sword lay beside him, forgotten and foreign.
"Not gonna fight me on that?"
When Sanji lifted his head again, Zoro was looking at him, a brow quirked in question and perhaps a bit of surprise.
The blond sighed, shaking his head.
"I can admit when I'm not ready..." he muttered in defeat.
This time when Zoro smirked, it was far less spiteful, more gentle than anything.
"Damn straight," the swordsman said. "Do you remember the way back?"
"Yeah… Easy," Sanji mumbled. "Just follow the path down the magic waterfalls, and take the giant fish back to the Capital."
Zoro rolled his eyes, but his tone was softer, a little amused, when he spoke again.
"Go back to the village and ask Tama for help. Think you can manage that?"
"Yeah, yeah…" Sanji replied, waving off the swordsman's instructions more out of stubbornness than anything. Yes, he should get back. Yes, he was getting pretty damn hungry. Logic told him this. But he wanted to uphold the little pride he had left.
Still, as he busied himself with his own robe, slipping back into his sleeves and clumsily securing his own sword, he felt that small amount of pride slipping away because there he was wishing he didn't have to return alone. The sun hadn't set, and yet the prospect of being alone in the forest was already daunting. But it wasn't just the forest, it was anywhere.
Maybe he wanted the mosshead's company. Maybe he didn't want him to leave for the simple reason that he'd liked this. He'd liked forgetting his fears, his worries…
He'd liked catching a glimpse of this secret world of Zoro's, and he certainly wanted more answers.
He wanted more time...
So that disappointment didn't leave when Zoro started to walk away without another word, across the sand towards the tall gate opposite them, the sun catching the gold filigree of his swords, glinting off his earrings.
He should say something. He should ask him to meet again. Here. In the Capital.
Anywhere.
"Hey, Zoro," he called after him, the swordsman's steps faltering, sandals scuffing to a halt.
When he looked back over his shoulder, there was a glimpse of vulnerability in his silence.
"Don't get killed," Sanji finished, both a challenge and a sincere wish, he realized.
He wanted to see his stupid face again...
Zoro's eyes widened minutely, chest expanding with a sharper inhale, the swordsman staring back for a moment. Then he nodded jerkily and turned away quickly, starting off for the gate once more.
Sanji wanted to see his stupid face again.
But he was unlikely to forget that lingering emotion he'd glimpsed through the cracks of Zoro's wall.
Zoro had called him an idiot.
Yet he found himself hoping that maybe the swordsman possessed the same desire to see him again too.
