A/N: I have to admit: I keep on writing stuff for this story, but it's never the things that I need to post next, and that ends up being a problem lol.

Five

The first thing that Zoro noticed was that there really wasn't a lot to do at the Baratie.

Well, there was for Eyebrow-Swirl. The man was up at the ass-crack of dawn cooking for the four of them, staying late to take care of stragglers in the restaurant, making sure everything was orderly and in shape only the way they could accomplish. What that left was him with a bouncy preschooler and a cantankerous old man who was advised to be left alone. Had it been any other doctor than Chopper, that order would have been handily ignored, but since it was Chopper, and Zoro trusted Chopper, he guessed he would leave the ancient barnacle to his radio-snail and what was probably smut books appropriate for an elderly auntie. He didn't know—the younger man really didn't care to investigate.

That still left the fact that he had said bouncy preschooler the entire time his shitty blond uncle was busy with the rest of the ship.

"Don't you have toys or something?" he asked one afternoon. "Books you can read? Things you can study? Do kids still study?"

"Uhh… I don't… not really…?" Asido said. He was practicing his flips as Zoro tried to nap out on the deck, which was becoming increasingly irritating. "This is me studying."

"So you don't have anything…?"

"Not anymore…?" Asido stopped his somersault chain to stare at the green-haired man. "Mom took me in kind of a rush. I don't need a lot though, because Mom will come get me again."

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "When's that?"

"We dunno, but it can't be too long if Uncle Sanji doesn't even know how long," the boy grinned. "Grandpa Zeff says he's getting me a bunch of old issues of Sora to read while I'm here! Isn't that cool?!"

"I guess…? If you're into that sort of stuff…"

"Uncle Sanji says it's been running for so long that there's adults who are fans who've been reading it since they were little. He said you knew a few."

"We know a lot of people, so it's kind of a given."

"How many people…?"

"Just… it's a lot." He watched the boy jump and tumble about, then grinned with an idea that was sure to raise Twirls's hackles. "Say, you wanna learn how to fight? I can teach you."

"Mom says that fighting is bad, but Uncle Sanji wants me to learn this stuff so I don't get stolen." Zoro mused on that for a moment, nodding his head.

"Shit-cook ain't wrong about that, but if you really want to protect yourself, I can teach you what I know."

"Really…?" Asido's eyes flicked towards his adult's swords and back to his face. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"I won't start you with live steel, kid. You probably won't even hold shinai until you're at least six."

"Can… I… um… still do Uncle Sanji's stuff too…?"

"Yeah—it'll be good for you to do a lot of things now when you're little, because then you can pick what you like as you get older, and it keeps your body doing different things." Zoro let the boy contemplate that before letting out a chuckle. "How about if we take a break from that stuff and start with an exercise to improve your focus?" He patted the bit of deck next to him and Asido sat down crosslegged, mimicking him. "Now, close your eyes."

"Done!"

"You have to be calm for this, sprout," Zoro warned. "Now, take a deep breath in, a deep breath out. Don't think. Again." The boy listened to him as he repeated the order firmly, calmly. "Now, think about your mom. Do you see her?"

"Uhh… no…?"

"You know how when you close your eyes and imagine things…?"

"…yeah…?"

"It's like that."

"…am I supposed to see things when I do that…?"

"This is getting nowhere—okay, just, think about your mom. I don't care if there's a picture there or not. What can you tell me about her?"

"She's really warm," Asido said. "Where we live isn't like here—it's pretty cold."

"Good, good; what else?"

"She's very pretty. Her hair is pink like strawberry ice cream and her eyebrows curl like mine. She… uh…" The boy mentally grasped for things in his attempt to fulfill the exercise. "She's often sad."

"Sad…? About what…?"

"I dunno—work, I guess. She's always working… but when we were coming here, she smiled a lot! Real smiles! Not just the ones she makes when she's really sad but wants me to feel better! She does a lot of that."

"Huh…" Zoro let that sink in. "I don't know your mom as well as I know your uncle, but he has smiles like those too, so I kind of get it."

"Yeah… I know… he hasn't smiled much for real since I got here, because he smiles just like Mom."

Zoro made a mental note—he wasn't entirely sure how he was going to use this information, but it was definitely going to be useful. "If it makes you feel any better, it's nothing to do with you." He placed a hand on Asido's head and ruffled his hair. "I think they're both just like that."

"Why…?"

To avoid answering a ticking time bomb of a question, Zoro simply shrugged. "They're brother and sister—siblings are like that sometimes." Asido then opened his eyes and looked at him, the boy's brain clearly in overdrive.

"Do people normally have siblings? Mom and Uncle Sanji have each other, and then Merry has her sisters…"

"I don't know. What I do know is that we just failed the exercise." He watched as the child's eyes grew wide in fear—they failed. "It's okay—we only failed because we got off topic, and it's good to fail the first few times anyhow. We can try again later. Go back to that… flippy shit."

"Are… you… um…?"

"…am I what?"

"Mad at me…?"

"No…?" Zoro used his Haki to feel the lad's emotions—he was nervous, confused, and a bit… the fuck… the kid was scared.

What the fuck, Curls?

"Sprout, why would I be mad at you? You're literally one of the best kids I've ever met. It's spooky, actually, how good of a kid you are. Does anyone yell at you normally?"

"No…?" Okay… it seemed like he was telling the truth.

"Has anyone yelled at you?" Asido shook his head. Nothing was catching Zoro's Observation Haki and he frowned. "Don't worry then, alright? Zoro-oji isn't going to let anyone get mad at you… not like that."

The little boy nodded slightly, avoiding eye contact. "Thank you. Can I do my flips now?"

"As much as you like, okay?"

Quietly, Asido went back to his preferred expanse of deck and resumed practicing his tumbling. Zoro pretended to tuck back in for a nap, instead watching the boy carefully. The kid's actions had a whole new layer to them, one he didn't like in the slightest, reminding him of days he'd rather forget and people he wanted to simply punch in the face, else risk sullying his swords. It made the man wonder how much his old crewmate was accidentally ignoring, or simply letting go because that was just how things were, and he needed to get to the bottom of it.

Before long, Sanji was calling out from Zeff's balcony that it was time for dinner. Asido gasped in delight and waited until Zoro stood before grabbing his hand and leading him through the Baratie. By the time they made it to Zeff's room, Sanji was nowhere in sight despite the fact their food was waiting for them on the table.

"It's a rough day in the kitchen," the old man explained. He saw the brow above Zoro's good eye raise and he passed Asido the comic section. "It looks like Sora's a good one today."

"Thanks!" the boy beamed, munching happily on his rice while reading through the page. His adults looked at one another and Zeff could see that something was wrong with Zoro.

"Is there something I should know about?" the older man asked.

"Not sure—just, it doesn't seem like something matches."

"It doesn't?"

"Yeah. Not sure what it means, but I'm gonna talk to Curly about it."

"You know he's fucking terrified, yeah?" Zoro did not respond verbally, instead nodding. "He doesn't think he knows what to do."

"He knows what you did."

"He knew awkward conversations from someone highly underqualified and the end of my peg when that didn't work. Before that, he knew hunger and pain. We'd do it again if we had to—I'd do it a thousand times just to fuck 'em over—and there's so much I know he wants to be different for this one."

"I guess he's just gonna have to figure that out pretty quick," Zoro shrugged. He saw that Asido was now bouncing in his chair as he read, clearly distracted. "You know… you know how Usopp said he never thought he'd be doing all the things he's doing…?"

"…go on…"

"I really don't think the cook ever anticipated this… any of it."

"To be fair, I didn't either," Zeff said casually. "When I was your age, I was too busy getting piss-drunk and fighting everyone I met—hadn't even discovered cooking. Didn't think I'd make it past thirty or so, let alone be here. Eggplant… he and I are a lot alike, as much as he hates to admit it, and I can guarantee that he's having a bonafide crisis."

"Do you speak from experience?"

"Fuck, I was having a crisis when he was sailing his ass back over here; they doesn't stop." The older man regarded the food on his fork before popping it in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. "Whatever it is you want to talk to him about, I'm sure is only going to worry him even more, so be careful. You know how he fusses."

"Yeah, don't remind me," Zoro shuddered. "Maybe if I can keep him to a minimum…"

"Eggplant's minimum is normal people's maximum—don't be a damned fool."

"Zoro-oji? Grandpa Zeff? I'm done," Asido declared. His caretakers turned their attention towards him—his plate was empty and the newspaper folded neatly. "Can I please go back outside?"

"Nah; what you're gonna do is take a shower to clean off all that exercise, and then you can stay in here for a bit," Zeff said. "I can tell you a bunch of stories from when your uncle was little… right after I first found him."

"Oh! Neat!" The lad slid off his chair and bolted out of the room.

"Your time is maximized—use it wisely," Zeff said gravely.

The thing that Sanji noticed with Zoro around was that he still couldn't really keep his mind off his nephew.

How was Asido doing? Was the kid hungry? Did he stay outside to play for long enough? Was he hitting his marks correctly with his flips? Could Zoro handle watching such a potentially unique kid?

…because in all honesty, watching over Usopp's wee saplings was a much different affair than watching over Asido. The girls—lovely as they were—demanded constant attention from whomever had them. They were a juggling act in a bizarre sense. To go straight from that to a kid who seemed really good at being by himself… could he keep his attention span together long enough to be there when the kid actually needed him? Exactly how much of the programming that Judge forced on Reiju did Asido inherit? What exactly was his sister risking by hiding the boy and bringing him there, where scientists were in short supply and no one really knew medical shit aside from basic first aid?

"Are you alright, chef?" Sanji snapped out of his train of thought and found himself back in the kitchen. He was supposed to be on a supervisory shift that night, but was quickly losing his focus.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied. The chef in front of him simply raised his eyebrow. "I just have a lot on my mind, is all. It's not like I'm running a whole-ass restaurant with two offshoots or anything."

"Just making sure," the chef said, raising his hands in surrender. "You've just seemed more distracted than usual lately."

"It's fine."

"If you say so."

Shit… he really was getting too distracted, wasn't he? Somehow, Usopp's pep-talk about fatherhood kept nagging in the back of his mind as he maintained order over the kitchens. There had not been the usual lag between the lunch and dinner rushes that evening, meaning he was surviving on a few handfuls of nuts, some spoon-tastings of the varying dishes they had going, and pure, unadulterated spite. So really, it was business as usual, except he was extra-cranky and as verging on the edge of spacey.

Eventually, he saw Zoro out the corner of his eye, bringing in a tray while Asido guided him in. The moss was being particularly not-lost as of late, no small thanks to his pint-sized guide, and it really showed. Asido grinned and waved before dashing off, while Zoro handed off the tray to a dishwasher before approaching Sanji.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Hey, shit cook, I got to talk to you," Zoro scowled.

"Not now, plant-brain," Sanji barked. "I got the dinner rush to contend with." A second and he realized something was off. "Where's Asido?"

"Going back to the old man," Zoro said, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder as though he was gesturing towards them. He wasn't. "It's about the kid, actually."

"Don't tell me you're ducking out already, you sack of shit."

"No—he said something and I don't know why the fuck he said it. Was hoping you'd know a bit more."

Sanji blinked at that as the information washed over him. Oh… it was the marimo doing his job. He did a quick visual check over the kitchen and told the lead saucier to keep an eye out for him before ducking out the back onto the rear deck.

"Okay," he said, lighting a cigarette. "Have at it."

"I was doing a concentration exercise with the sprout and when I said we failed he was worried I was angry."

Huh… not what he was expecting.

"Let's pick this apart so that I understand," Sanji groaned. "You were doing a concentration exercise with Asido? Why…?"

"I'm gonna teach him swordsmanship… or, at least, see if he'd be any good at it."

"At risk of the twinge in the back of my head growing: why would you do that?"

"Something to do," Zoro shrugged. "We got off-topic, which I expected, because he's four, and I explained that it meant we failed."

"You don't tell a four-year-old they failed."

"Why not? Hiding it won't do them any favors."

Yeah, the twinge was going to become a headache. "Okay, so after that… what the fuck happened?"

"I don't know—that's why I'm talking to you." Zoro looked extremely irritated, as though he was ready and willing to turn the conversation into a physical altercation. "He was worried I was pissed off. Seemed almost like he was afraid I might hit him hard or something. What the fuck did your sister teach him?"

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Sanji growled. "My sister might not be good, but she's not cruel. Besides, Emperor Fuckwad and the Trio of Scientific Perfection don't even know he exists, so the list of potential belligerents is pretty fucking short."

"Well, it's not your old man; kid fucking loves the guy."

"How, I don't know; just don't scare Asido, alright? I know it's difficult with your Resting Murderface, but I'll keep an eye on him too."

"Fuck off—the only reason I'm here is because you can't be with him all the time. I just need to know whose fucking mistakes I'm dealing with before things get really fucked."

Sanji had not been aware before then that his patience was particularly taut that evening; it only seemed the normal amount when faced with the combination of dinner service while the sword-idiot was wandering about. However, that did not stop his oh-so-gracious levels of patience to snap in two as he jabbed Zoro's chest with a finger.

"Listen, asshole, I'm going to make one thing perfectly clear right now and it's up to you to remember, got it?"

"Fucking out with it, cook."

"My nephew is no mistake. If you put so much as one toe out of line when it comes to him, I can and will kick you so hard you'll find yourself landed on whatever fucking island the Hearts are on, but not before I pin a note to your shirt telling Law I'm cashing in my favor and it's to dissect you into tiny little bits so that I can watch you can put yourself back together."

"You got a favor due from him too? I should almost be pissed he cheated on me with you, curls."

"You're a fucking piece of shit."

"You're the one getting clingy to Torao, of all people. Asshole probably isn't even in this Blue."

"Well then, that should make it clear how hard I'll kick you, eh?"

Both men prepped for a physical fight, one lighting his leg on fire whilst the other popped a sword from its sheath. Their weapons clashed—heel meeting steel—and they snarled at one another as they readied for their first real fight in years.

"Uh… chef…?" They looked over to see that the schmuck that Sanji had left in charge of the kitchen was now poking his head out of the door. "I hate to interrupt, but there is a customer that wants to talk to you."

"Can't it wait?!"

"We suspect it's a critic—their behavior points towards them knowing some blokes that came in before you returned that nearly butchered the place's reputation."

With an exaggerated groan, Sanji put his foot out and shoved his hands in his trouser pockets; Zoro relaxed in-turn. "You can't get rid of them?"

"They'll only speak to the chef in charge, and with Chef Zeff laid up… that's you."

Sanji tossed the remainder of his cigarette in the ocean and spat. "We'll finish this later, mossball."

"I'll count on it," Zoro replied.

Sanji followed the messenger out into the dining area of the restaurant, wanting to put the situation to rest. As it turned out, the person complaining was nothing more than a charlatan, setting the man off and creating a scene as he kicked them out in a display fitting for what was not only the finest dining experience on the seas, but the toughest as well.

By the time Sanji was able to catch a moment, Zoro was long gone. It was so late, in fact, that everyone else on his floor was asleep, completely unbothered by the fast-paced day. The blond trudged into his room and nearly didn't make it to his bed before allowing himself to fall asleep. Whatever the fuck he was going to do about his and the marimo's chat was going to have to wait until later.

How much later, however, remained to be seen…

A/N: Sometimes I wonder if what Oda meant by the fact that Zoro would be a cop if he wasn't in the world of One Piece if that just means he'd be the most swole social worker in the juvenile division.