Roses

"Vivi!" Nami snapped, ripping up a luscious rose bush and throwing it into the pile of weeds. "Keep your eyes in this yard!"

Vivi frowned and looked at her wild friend. "Nami," she sighed, "why are we planting oranges so early in the morning?"

"Because," Nami said, pulling out another rose bush, "I have two days study to catch up on and a job to get back to before I'm fired." She ripped out another bush and stopped to smell a blood red rose. She tossed it into the weed pile. "Ugh, I hate roses!"

"Why?" Vivi asked, looking sadly at the magnificent pile of them. "They're quite lovely and romantic."

"They have all these thorns! Ugh! Look at them, all over the place!" To prove how much she loathed them, she pulled up another bush.

"But they have such a beautiful smell and colour," her friend insisted.

"Yeah," Nami agreed, sitting on her haunches, "but there're heaps of flowers that smell nice and are colourful and don't have thorns. I'll grow those ones instead." She gave a rare sweet smile and gripped the base of another bush.

Zoro was about to leave for work when a blue hair woman emerged from out of Nami's house, smiling slightly, dirty but clearly pleased with herself. She stopped when their eyes met and immediately made a bee-line for him. Zoro sighed and met with the woman at the gap in the fence.

"Hello!" she said cheerfully extending a hand in greeting, "I'm Vivi."

Zoro clasped Vivi's fair hand. "Zoro."

Vivi's face faltered a moment in slight confusion. "Not Zorome?"

He shook his head and released the hand, "no, it's just Zoro," he paused. "Are you a relative to that Nami?"

Vivi laughed. "No no no no! I'm her friend!" she explained happily, flicking back her blue hair, "I was just helping Nami plant some orange trees in her backyard. She loves oranges."

"I suppose she would," Zoro replied with a smirk, he crossed his arms. "You get along with her?"

Vivi bit her lip as she thought about it. "Yeah," she answered slowly, "most of the time. We have our argument…actually, she has her tantrums every now and then."

So everybody can have a friend, Zoro thought to himself.

"Oh," she added politely, "I'm so sorry about what Nami did to you the other day! She normally wouldn't hurt people without a logical reason, but…oh, I'm just so sorry!" She sincerely looked apologetic. "When Nami told me about how she dragged you out from under the machine and called the ambulance I was so shocked. Like, honestly, a lawn mower?! Huuuh," she looked at the sky. "I wished she wouldn't get mad so easily, it gets tough when you try and calm her down."

Zoro nodded. "Yeah, I've kinda experienced it already. But, is she always like that?"

Vivi nodded back. "Most times," she admitted. "But…oh, Zorome, don't get me wrong, she's the most loyal, hard-working, honest person you could ever find in the world. She'll never let you down, even if she had to loose a limb…but she's got a bad side, I suppose. Trying to work for a house, car, food and studying doesn't help her at all," she frowned slightly at Zoro. "Puts too much stress on her, I think."

Zoro made a face. "How come she can't stay with you?"

"She hates my boyfriend," Vivi stated flatly. "Tried and failed. That's why we bought this nice home," she looked back at the average looking house with the dirt front yard.

"Ah," he said dully, "so you're the culprit. This neighbourhood was once a peaceful place."

"You've got a nice house," Vivi said, adding to the house conversation, "nice and big. I love your front lawn."

Zoro turned around to look at his own pad; he cocked his head to one side. He had to admit his lawn did look quite nice, the trees and bushes left free to roam had all done a good job in keeping themselves alive. "Yeah, it's all right."

Nami stooped over the sink in frustration as she dug the pair of tweezers into the centre of her palm and proceeded to painfully remove a thorn. This was exactly the reason why she hated roses; somehow they managed to get under her skin. With a sigh she ran her hand under the cold water and looked out the window. Vivi and Zoro were obviously getting along well with each other and were discussing something mildly serious, not Vivi in particular, she always had a beautiful smile on her face no matter the circumstances – it was the conifer man that was frowning. He was nodding slightly, occasionally shaking his head and putting in the odd sentence here and there. Nami dried her hands on a towel and went outside.

"Yeah," Zoro agreed to Vivi's comment about the weather. He felt the sinister presence of the orange woman approach and raised his sight towards her. Vivi noticed this and spun around.

"Hi Nami!"

"Hi," Nami smiled back – except the gesture didn't quite reach her eyes which were locked onto Zoro. "Having a nice chat?"

Zoro smiled and looked at Vivi, "We are, aren't we Vivi?"

She smiled back. "Yes we are!"

Nami snorted through her nose and hooked her hand around her friend's wrist. "Come on, we gotta go."

Vivi allowed herself to be steered to the garage, she waved back to Zoro. "See you later, Zorome!"

"Honestly," Nami hissed, "I thought you had better taste."

"Oh come off it," Vivi replied, "he's quite a nice guy when you get to know him." She stepped into the car.

"You come off it," the orange haired woman got behind the wheel, adjusted her sunglasses and turned to Vivi. "You're always wrong when it comes to men."

"Kohza is a good guy, Nami!"

"Yeah," she reversed down the drive, "when he gets his own bloody way."

Vivi rolled her eyes and leaned out the window.

Zoro demounted his battered shinai from the wall and turned to his class of kneeling kendo students, each with their own bamboo weapon lying beside them. Each student had a fire in their eyes as their sensei expertly twirled his shinai through the air. It wasn't admiration, far from it; it was because Zoro had promised the person who broke his practice sword an extra special treat. What the treat was Zoro hadn't decided on it yet…he didn't really need to, no sword of his broke. But his students were eager. They would pull any dirty trick on him for that treat.

Zoro sighed, "You've a second to put it down, Jackson."

The boy, who had approached his sensei from behind, his shinai ready for attack, stopped in surprise. "Wha…?"

The children watched as their green sensei smashed the bamboo against the almost innocent Jackson's head. There was a loud smack, and it wasn't the bamboo. They all winced.

"Attacking from behind is bad form," Zoro snapped, resting his sword on his shoulder as he glared at his student.

Jackson lay on the floor, partially conscious.

"Aw, that was mean sensei," a small girl scolded, her face pouting slightly but her eyes hopefully glued to the shinai. "I mean…" she paused. "Did your shinai break?"

Zoro rolled his eyes, "No." He watched the students sigh in relief.

"Ah," a slurred voice came from behind him, "Mr. Roronoa, you've got an unconscious student lying on the floor." Dracule Mihawk promptly stepped over the student, who was slowly coming around, and glided over to his employee, who was forever stiffening. His yellow eyes twisted around to stare at the students looking up at him in awe; he gave a slight toothy smile and addressed the green man. "Mr. Roronoa-"

"It's Zoro-sensei, whilst I'm giving lessons," Zoro replied with tense curtesy.

Dracule nodded. "Zoro-sensei…you realise that your fierce training methods on seven year old children is not appropriate?"

Zoro looked at his pupils. "They're fine."

The master of the dojo rubbed his forehead. "This isn't a military base."

"They're the ones paying," the sensei said snappishly, "they should be grateful to…"

"Yes, well, regardless of your opinions, Roronoa," said Dracule coolly, "but I don't want to hear another complaint about sprained tendons from parents, clear?" The dark cloaked man turned on his heels and glided out of the classroom, sliding close the rice doors behind him.

Zoro scratched the back of his neck. "Okay, who had the sprained tendon?" he asked the still in awe group.

The children looked hesitant before one spoke up. "It was me, sensei."

"And why," interrogated Zoro, "didn't you tell me?"

"Well…" the boy murmured quietly, "I…I tripped."

"Tripped? What, on your own feet?"

"Sort of."

"And does it hurt?"

"Wha…?"

"Your 'sprained tendon', does it hurt?"

"No, not anymore-"

"Good," Zoro cut in, motioning for the students to get up onto their feet, "because you're going to do a hundred push ups for me."

The boy looked crestfallen. "One hundred?"

His sensei nodded. "Hai, one hundred. HAJIME!"

The student fell to his fours and began to push himself up and down. "Don't underestimate me, sensei!" he crowed, "I can do a thousand by the time everyone else finishes warming up!"

Zoro grinned. "Fine then. If you do a thousand, your kendo skills will increase."

Jackson's hand shot up into the air. "SENSEI!" He called. "I can do more then a thousand and you hit like a weak girl!"

"A weak girl!?" snapped the pouting girl from before, "I can do two thousand. That's way more than you."

The entire room erupted into chirps of competitiveness; Zoro watched on in patience. To be honest he shouldn't have ignited their egos, they were going to be hyperactive for hours – and he hated hyperactive kids, especially the crying types. A loud smack reached his ears, along with the scream of a poor girl who had fallen victim to one of the larger boy's attack. Zoro quickly stepped in before she could retaliate. "Brian," he quickly blocked the young boy's shinai with his battered one. "You shouldn't attack girls like that."

"You do!" the tawny kid snapped back.

Zoro hated these arguments. "Yes, that's because I'm allowed to." He felt the brat whack his shinai into his leg, shouting 'Take this puke head!' Zoro blinked at the insult. Puke head? Where in the blazes did that come from?! "Right," he growled, "everyone, you're to shut the hell up and listen to me."

The children immediately shut-up.

"It is shame," he started, "to a samurai who uses his shinai or his katana as an object used for menial hitting," he glared at each of his students. "A samurai uses his sword like he would his arm. Your swords are merely extension of your arms, and like your arms you are responsible for keeping it to yourselves. I never want to see anyone hit someone else because of some stupid argument of who can do more. Is that clear?"

"Haaaaai, Zoro-sensei," the ashamed class chanted.

"Good. Now," he continued in a lighter tone, "let's warm up!"

"One thousand!" Zoro looked down at the boy who had the sprained tendon. "I did it, sensei!" the child pronounced proudly, "one thousand! I am so strong!"

"No," corrected the green samurai, "you're stuffed. You can sit out the warm up if you like."

"Oh thank god," the kid slouched tiredly off into a corner.

GIRI: Maa, another chapter! Luv all your reviews!

For those who don't know, SHINAI are those practice bamboo swords used for Kendo.