AN: Yes i know i've been a horrible author. I promised on time updates and then i up and disappeared on you guys. well, to be honest it was unavoidable. hubby lost job, we had to move back near my parents so they could help us out, we're both still out of work, our brand new van got totaled 10 days after buying it (and we still haven't gotten the issue resolved)... you see where i'm going with this? RL sucks. But.... I'm back and I have 3 chapters beta'ed and ready for posting, and all the way through ch 10 written. I hope you guys will forgive me.
Chapter 3
Zoro groaned and rolled over, trying to block out the pounding in his head. Unfortunately, it only increased, making Zoro realize it wasn't his head making the sounds, but someone at his door. He threw off his blanket and sat up wearily, knowing that if someone wasn't dead, they soon would be for waking him at that hour. Zoro pulled on a pair of (hopefully) clean sweats and kicked the bloody clothes he had shed the night before out of the way as he headed for the noise. His bottom lip and jaw were still slightly swollen and tinged with purple, complimented by the matching dark marks on his chest and abs. In short, he looked like hell.
Rubbing his eyes, Zoro opened door and opened his mouth to yell at the culprit, his voice catching in his throat at the sight of his neighbor. Kokoro stood there, hand poised to bang on his door, her bottle of ever present alcohol in her raised hand and a tray of still steaming muffins in the other. Chimney bounced up in front of him with her stuffed rabbit catching him off guard and sending him stumbling back a few steps. The green-haired man grinned at her sheepishly as he watched the little girl's eyes go wide as she took in his injuries.
"What happened? Did you get hit by a truck again?" Chimney's innocence only increased his guilt, remembering the last time she had seen him battered this bad. Zoro made a note to himself to remember to put a shirt on when he answered the door from now on.
"Something like that, but it's not as bad as it looks," Zoro rasped out as he ruffled her hair, his voice still laced with sleep as he tried to dodge Kokoro's angry glare. Chimney latched herself onto his leg and grinned up at him, happy that her hero was okay.
"So, I see you had a late night," the old woman scolded. Kokoro shoved the food at him and walked away with a slight huff. "Come see me tonight and we'll play cards. Be sure to bring something to drink."
"Yah, I'll be there," Zoro mumbled after her, an apologetic tone to his voice. He gave Chimney a gentle shove out of the doorway. "And you go get ready for school. I'll buy you ice cream if you can read your library book without help."
"Yea!!!!!" She squealed, her pigtails flying behind her as she ran back to her own place.
Today would be a good day, he though and stuffed a warm muffin in his mouth. He had to teach a class in a few hours, and then he should probably return Franky's Hummer to him and see if his own car was finished. Searching for a clean keikogi, Zoro decided that maybe it was time to hire a maid though the thought was dismissed almost as quickly as it came. The only time he had let someone in to help they had tried to throw out most of his 'reading material' and replace it with boring magazines picturing almost naked women in lewd positions. Not that he didn't appreciate some of the visual aids, but how dare they? He worshiped those muscle car books.
Zoro kicked the pile of towels out of the way far enough to open the bathroom door and reached in to turn the shower on. He shoved another muffin in his mouth as he waited for the water to heat up, enjoying the treat while it was still warm. After knocking some of the things off the counter to set the plate down, Zoro stepped into the hot stream and began to lather up, mindful of the tender bruising on his abdomen. Kohza had laughed when Zoro began griping about Braham's trickery and underhanded techniques. In truth, the swordsman was just sore about letting someone get that many hits in on him in the first place. Zoro had prided himself on leaving the ring unscathed most nights and to be humiliated like that was a severe blow to his ego.
Then there was Paula or Miss Doublefinger as she liked to be called. Even after he had told her no, she still insisted on trying to get into his pants. How he had gotten involved with her in the first place was a mystery. Maybe it was due to her double-jointed body and all the different positions she could manipulate herself into. Just the memory of her bent in half, plastered against mirrored wall behind the bar, wrists cuffed to the pipes for the sprinkler system above her head… Zoro closed his eyes and groaned, also remembering how that night ended. Him with his pants barely fastened around his waist, blood running from the cut above his eye and a very pissed off Das Bones screaming at the both of them. Zoro had called it quits after that, refusing to interfere in another's relationship. He had no idea that the two of them were together, and fortunately Bones had understood, but that didn't stop Paula from continuing to pursue him.
Zoro turned off the water and reached for a towel, scrunching up his nose at the musty smell from the one he grabbed. Deciding that maybe he'd just air-dry, Zoro walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Nothing, just as it was yesterday morning. Grabbing the last bottle of water from the top shelf, he returned to the bathroom to retrieve the plate of muffins. They had cooled off, but were still delicious; Kokoro's skills at baking saving him once again from a fast-food run.
The mess in his bedroom actually caught him by surprise, though one couldn't see how. Zoro sifted through the clothes on the closet floor and continued to come up empty in his search for a clean uniform. Maybe sensei would allow him to work out in a pair of sweats and an undershirt today. Yah, and after that he could go collect his bonus check for employee of the month. Fuck, if Zoro didn't find a passable uniform soon, he'd be doing one twisted form of torture or another in retribution. Where that kind sweet middle-aged man came up with that shit was beyond him.
Still naked, Zoro made a last attempt to salvage his battered body and looked in his gym bag. There, a slightly crumpled, but still clean keikogi lay hidden under last week's mail. Sighing in relief, Zoro dug the clothes out and gave them a good shake, ignoring the envelope that had the logo for the local phone company on it. He folded them back up and returned them to the bag, satisfied that they would pass, though barely. He then returned to find something else to wear in the mean time.
An hour later, Zoro pulled out Franky's garage and waved to the few workers standing outside as he drove by them. The blue-haired mechanic hadn't been in, but the keys had been left in the ignition and a note said that the car had received an oil change as well. Zoro was glad he ran the Hummer through the carwash before he returned it, and even wiped down the seats and floorboards as an extra thank-you. Pulling onto the back road, Zoro slammed the pedal to the floor and let his smile grow as he watched the speedometer climb slightly faster than before. He promised himself he'd test it out further after dark, but for now he had work to get to.
Pulling into his spot at the dojo, Zoro reminded himself he had promised Kokoro that he would be there this evening. He needed to make sure he stopped by the liquor store on his way home or his Auntie would be very upset with him. Also, if he forgot, he'd be stuck drinking water or that strange fruit drink that Chimney seemed to love. It wasn't so bad when he mixed it with rum, but on its own it would even make Luffy hesitate. Hmm. Rum did sound good tonight. He'd better make it two bottles since he knew she was pretty upset with him.
oOoOoOo
Everyone cringed as they continued to hear the echoing shouts of the Police Chief throughout the building. The server was still online, but another attack on a key witness had killed another officer and critically injured two more. Garp's door was thrown open and an enraged woman exited, her strawberry-blonde hair falling slightly from the bun she had trapped it in that morning. Making a beeline for her own office, Hina refused to speak with anyone as they scurried out of her way. The Chief could be seen sitting at his desk with his forehead resting on his interlocked fingers, elbows propped on the arms of his chair as he sighed heavily. In one swift motion, he stood up and grabbed his jacket, hat and lighter before storming out his still open door.
"Smoker!" Garp bellowed as he headed for the back exit.
Said detective snapped his head up at the tone of Garp's voice and took notice of where the old man was headed. Knowing that this wouldn't be a pleasant talk, Smoker prepared himself with a few extra cigars and donned his own jacket. Just as thought, Garp was standing at the rail of the back walkway searching his pockets and mumbling to no one in particular.
"You think you know someone, and then they go and stab you in the back. I think we've found our leak," Garp grumbled. "A sergeant over in another precinct was caught trying to log into sensitive files last night. I guess that's how they've been finding those locations."
Smoker stuck a cigar in his mouth and offered another to the upset man. "I'm guessing we'll be going through another series of password changes and all that bullshit again, huh?"
Garp sighed heavily as he took the tightly rolled tobacco and for a brief moment, Smoker swore he had seen desperation in the man's features.
"I.A. is all over my ass about this. I'm just glad that not all of the witnesses were from here or we'd all be sitting behind bars right now, guilty or not." The Chief ran a hand over his tired features and shook his head. "You know I don't normally ask how you get things done, but I need to know if you have anything yet."
Smoker shook his head slowly and leaned his forearms on the rail as he looked out over the half-empty parking lot. "I'll let you know something when I do."
"For now, we're trying to move all high-profile witnesses to new locations just in case they've been compromised. You have everything under control with the one you've hidden?" Garp leaned back against the wall and stuck his hands into his pants pockets.
"So far. I just hope that it all stays that way," Smoker noted, wondering if he would be receiving any more packages from the mysterious insider to deliver to his witness. That last one had been quite a surprise, though Smoker reasoned that he should have expected it. If they were getting their information off of the computers, then there was no way anyone could have known the last location of his guy. Smoker had held back entering anything since the computers had been acting up so much, and now he was very thankful that he did. Still, something seemed off here. He couldn't help but feel there was a major factor they were missing. He and Garp stood in silence as they finished their cigars, nodding in greeting to the few officers that came and went, each lost in their own thoughts about recent events.
oOoOoOoOo
Kokoro's door was slightly ajar and the smell of her famous beef stew had drifted across the entire floor, causing Zoro's stomach to grumble in anticipation as soon as the lift doors had opened. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose, savoring the delicious smell. He could hear Chimney's happy laughter and the faint sounds of some cartoon she was watching on the TV. It would be a good night to relax.
"It's easier to eat if you come inside, kiddo."
Zoro laughed at his Auntie's teasing and followed her suggestion. He hung his jacket on his peg and allowed himself to be pulled to the table by Chimney. Zoro listened to her chatter on about her day, noting the slight deflation of happiness when speaking about her classmates, all while trying to keep an eye on Kokoro as she put the finishing touches on the meal.
When dinner was finished, and the little terror was put to bed, they adjourned to the small balcony with their respective bottles to enjoy the starry sky. The weather was still cold, but heavy jackets and a small heater kept them from shivering too much. They both stared out into the night in silence, unlike most of their time together. Usually, the older woman was full of life and conversation, but it seemed that lately there was something that weighed heavily on her mind. For her to be this silent, Zoro knew it must be truly important, and when she finally spoke, his world began to crumble.
"I'm tired of waiting for you to get your life in order, so I'm just going to have to do something drastic and tell you the truth." Kokoro sat her bottle down for the first time since he had known her.
"If this is a love confession, I don't think I can handle more than one a year, so you'll have to wait," Zoro said with as much humor as he could muster, trying to lighten the mood a little since it felt like his chest was about to explode.
"Bah! I've told you countless times I love ya, just like I do Chimney. This is a bit more personal." She kept staring at the stars, refusing to look him in the face. The tension only grew and she sighed heavily as she shifted in her seat. "I wasn't completely honest about my appointment with the doctors. It looks like my time here is almost over."
"What?" Zoro's bottle dropped to the ground and shattered, spilling the remaining rum all over concrete floor. "You're fucking with me, right? … Please say you are."
The sounds of the busy city below seemed almost eerie as he waited for her to pull the punch line and shout 'Gotcha' while laughing. Time slowed to a stop as she turned to look at him with apologetic eyes, the truth of her admission written all over her weary face.
"Not this time, honey. The doctor gave me about six months, eight months ago." His Auntie reached out and took his hand, squeezing it tight. "I'm guessing you somewhat suspected it after the other night, though."
Zoro sat back in his chair in shock yet he refused to let go of her hand. He knew she was sick, but he had no idea her health was that bad. Thinking about it though, it should have been apparent just from the amount of medicine she had been taking. Did she find out when she was in the hospital last time? Did Chimney know yet? Did anyone know?
"Have you told your sons?" he managed to choke out. The next words from her mouth cut through him deeper than any sword, piercing his heart and soul.
"No, I haven't had the courage to tell them yet. Franky's work is consuming all his time and Iceburg has elections coming up. You're the only who knows, the only one I trust." Kokoro released his hand to pick her bottle back up and take along drink. "I'll be leaving Chimney with Franky and Robin… unless you want her."
Did Auntie really think he could raise a little girl? No one out there could expect him to take care of a child since he could barely take care of himself. His house was unfit for most human life, and he was still not ready to face the ghosts in the second bedroom. He had fights to schedule, underground bosses to destroy, missing informants to locate, and his own life to get in order. A little girl didn't belong in that kind of environment. Even though Zoro was sure she had been kidding, he felt the need to explain how wrong that idea would be.
"There's no way any judge in his right mind will allow me to care for a child. I'd have to get married to Holly Homemaker, or become a preacher, in order to change their opinions of me. Robin keeps Franky in line lately, I'm sure they could handle this better. His work isn't as bad as what you think… Well, maybe it is, but that's not the point. Besides, you'll be around forever. You're too stubborn to die." Zoro closed his eyes to keep the tears from coming. After losing his own parents, he shut himself off from the world to prevent this very feeling from ever happening again. This was why he refused to get close to anyone. His voice came out barely over a whisper. "You can't die!"
"I'm not going without a fight, but I've already accepted that it's a fight I'm gonna lose sooner or later. I have every ounce of faith that things will be just fine." She stood up and leaned over to kiss him on top of his head. "I'm going to bed. Make sure you clean up the broken glass before you leave."
He nodded numbly, still trying to wrap his mind around the information she just gave him. Zoro wondered what doctor had she been seeing. He knew that some health care providers weren't always the best for specialized care. Did she even get a second opinion, or maybe see a specialist? The one doctor that Zoro knew had passed on a few years ago. Besides, doctors took money, and that was something that Zoro only had so much of right now.
Zoro wondered how hard it would be to con Smoker into letting him have few extra jobs so he could pull in some more fast cash. Of course, they'd have to figure out the whole problem with the disappearing people first. It was that or he could take up that offer for the exhibition fight. It all depended on if it was someone worthy of fighting or not. Whatever the game, Zoro needed cash quick. Time was of the essence here. She already admitted that the time the doctors gave her was up two months ago.
He forced his feet into the kitchen and rummaged under the sink for the dustpan and hand broom. After cleaning up the broken bottle, he tied-off the garbage bag and make note to take it with him when he left. In a daze he made his way back to his apartment and stumbled into bed.
OoOoOoOoO
"Oyasumi, Zo-kun."
Zoro could hear his mother's voice calling out to him as he trudged up the stairs to his bedroom. She had been encouraging him to learn Japanese and constantly used phrases that had started sticking in his head. Ohayou gozaimasu, gomen nasai, domo arigato, onegai shimasu; the woman never stopped. She was a walking library, or maybe even more like a living database. There was nothing that she didn't know; even when he had been in trouble.
The scene changed and Zoro was standing in the middle of a line of children, all much larger than himself, waiting to receive his trophy. He could hear whispers of his name mixed with words such as demon, cruel, hunter, killer. His childish heart began to break until he caught sight of his parents standing in the crowd, beaming with pride as the gold medal was slipped over his head. Zoro's father hugged him so tight, smothering him with praise as the other parents looked on slightly ill at ease.
Though Zoro knew it was a dream now, he let the events play out in his mind. It changed to the day of his girlfriend's death, he could tell by the clothes he was wearing. His mother had bought him that jacket as a reward for his hard work. Zoro had run over to Kuina's house all excited and couldn't wait to show her his gift. He never associated the ambulance in the drive with her, so when he saw Koushirou sitting on the front steps crying, Zoro immediately ran to his sensei's side. Losing Kuina became the major turning point for Zoro in life and it was the final push he needed to advance in his training. That night was when he made his vow to Koushirou that he would take Kuina's place in the upcoming tournament and win. Zoro swore to become the best, both for her sake and his own.
Again a shift in surroundings and Zoro was standing inside the living room which was completely trashed. It was the first time he could remember seeing disappointment in his mother's face. Zoro's parents had gone out for the weekend and left Zoro with Johnny and Yosaku to watch the house unsupervised. The teenagers had gotten a bit drunk and ended up trying to play American Gladiator inside. All his mother had done was kiss him softly on the cheek and walk up to her bedroom without a word, but the impact of her silence was like a knife through his chest. The three teens spent the next few days repairing furniture, painting walls and scrubbing carpets. Zoro promised her he would never destroy his home like that again.
Slowly, Zoro opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling in his apartment. The sun outside was barely beginning to peak over the horizon, casting long shadows across his bed. Turning his head to the side, Zoro took note of the destructive state of his room. His mother's sad face flashed through his mind and Zoro clinched his eyes shut to try to block out the image. Anger began to well within him. The one thing he could always be counted on for was his word, but looking around it seemed that maybe he wasn't as good at keeping promises as everyone had once thought.
Standing up, he kicked his dirty clothes out of the way and headed for the bathroom. With each step the pain continued to build as filth greeted him at every turn. Zoro turned and drove his fist through the wall, ignoring splinters of wood that dug deep into his knuckles. He stood there for a moment with his fist still in the wall, his eyes closed tightly as he tried to calm his rage. This was unacceptable, his life was unacceptable and it needed to change. Now. Yanking his fist out, and doing more damage in the process, Zoro continued into the bathroom to clean up and begin his day.
OoOoOoOoO
With a heavy grunt, Zoro hauled the massive amount of dirty laundry down to the basement. This early on a Saturday morning he should be able to get everything done at once and save himself a headache. A clenching tightness in his chest returned when he looked down the hall to his adopted aunt's door. The depth of her words had finally sunk in and lucid dreams deprived him of necessary sleep. Maybe he could find some time to catch a nap this afternoon. After slowly exiting the lift, Zoro opened the door to the Laundry Room and frowned. Unfortunately, the twins were already there, chatting while their miniscule clothing tumbled around in one of the dryers.
"Oh, hey there Zoro. Oh no! What happened?" Kiwi hurried over and began inspecting his bandaged hand.
"It's nothing, just a little slip. I'll be fine," Zoro tried to assure her and wondered if maybe he should have waited and done this later.
"Are you sure? It might be difficult trying to do all that laundry without getting the wrapping wet. Do you need any help?" Kiwi batted her thick fake lashes at him.
"We'd be glad to offer any assistance you might need." Mozu leaned forward and let her top slip off one shoulder, giving him an ample view of her cleavage.
He looked back and forth between them debating on if he should take them up on the offer or not. It would save him the hassle of looking like a fool while trying to sort out different colors and fabrics, one of the main reasons he hated doing laundry. How Luffy kept up with all of this, he didn't know. That boy has a hard time remembering to put on shoes, let alone matching a pair of socks. One day he might ask, but for now…
"All I have left to do is separate, and then get some soap." He could see the delight in their eyes as they realized he didn't say no.
"Oh we have plenty! You can just use ours." Mozu danced over to their basket and pulled out a large bottle of detergent.
"You just sit back and relax. We'll do all the work." Kiwi pointed to the table for him to put all four bags of his dirty clothes down, then took his arm and guided him to an empty chair.
Zoro really felt a bit guilty for taking advantage of them, but then again they did owe him. A few months ago, they had just finished for the night at the strip club and were walking back home when a couple of drunks decided they wanted another lap dance. Zoro saw the struggle, pulled over, beat the crap out of the guys and brought the twins back to their apartment, all without saying a word to them. To most it would seem rude, but to them he was just a silent hero.
He sighed.
Women. They seemed to be the bane of his existence. Zoro took women to bed when necessary, but never found one worthy of more than a quick fuck. Maybe that had something to do with Paula, or even his mother. No woman could ever be like her. Ace joked with him one day a while back that if Zoro hated women that bad, maybe he needed to look for a man. It took two men to pull Ace from the hole in the wall where Zoro had thrown him. Zoro had told about the dream in confidence, and it still irked him that he'd envisioned himself engaged in sex with a male friend. Had Zoro known the extent of Ace's teasing, he would have kept his mouth shut. Just because Ace had tricked him into kissing him, and Zoro had thoroughly enjoyed it, it didn't mean that he was interested in exploring that avenue any further. He'd just have to keep searching. Somewhere out there, there had to be someone willing to put up with him.
Mozu and Kiwi were going through his clothes and chatting like he wasn't even there. They checked his pockets, setting aside money and slips of paper, unfolded cuffs, turned his socks right-side out and even divided the whites so some of them could be bleached. It amazed him how professional they made it all look. They must do this for their brothers a lot. Confident that he had made a good choice, Zoro allowed his eyes to close and he drifted off, snoring softly over the hum of the machines.
A soft hand caressed his stubbly face and he leaned into the touch instinctively, opening his eyes slowly. Kiwi smiled down at him and blushed deeply.
"Your laundry's done, gorgeous. You looked so peaceful that we went ahead and folded it while you slept. I hope you don't mind."
He straightened up, wincing as his joints popped after being in the awkward position for so long. He turned and looked at the clock on the opposite wall, seeing that he'd been down there a little over two hours, not near what he had been anticipating. Usually it took him all day to get his laundry finished.
"Thanks. You can keep the money you found as appreciation," Zoro said gruffly as he stood up and grabbed the small roll of bills, holding it out to them in offering.
"Are you kidding? There's over a hundred dollars there." Mozu shook her head and pushed his hand away. "That's way too much. Besides, we were happy to help you out. Anytime you need it, just give us a call, ok?"
She gave him a pat on the shoulder and a quick kiss to his rough cheek before she picked up her own basket of completed laundry. Kiwi smiled to him, kissing the other cheek, and followed her sister out leaving Zoro standing there with a little grin of his own. Ok, so maybe all women weren't bad, just the ones that seemed to be interested in him personally. Zoro shook his head to clear it, and gathered up his laundry, noticing that they had washed the bags themselves too. One task down, several more to go.
OoOoOoOoO
Fifteen trash bags, two loads in the dishwasher, three bottles of bleach cleaner, half a dozen rolls of paper towels, a new bag on the vacuum, several hours and a very exhausted young man later, the apartment was almost as clean as the day Zoro moved in. The questionable items in the fridge were removed, leaving it empty and reminding him that he needed to buy food soon. Dishes had been washed and returned to the cabinets, the broken plates and rusted cookie sheets tossed in the garbage. His countertops were now visible, as well as the table and couch, and the breeze blowing in was slowly helping the smell of cleaner dissipate from the room. It looked nothing like his normal messy abode.
Zoro smiled slightly, just a little turn of his lips. Pride in one's self was reflected in their surroundings and up till now, Zoro appeared to have none. A man can be judged by several things: his home, the company he keeps, and his appearance. Well, as far as friends; they ranged from respected politicians to degenerate hooligans. No one could possibly manage to derive anything from his social status. The way he looked was a totally different matter. Rarely did he shave and he couldn't remember the last haircut he had received. His clothes were just whatever he picked up off the floor, not caring if they matched or not. The only time he even took care of his appearance was when he had to show up at a tournament with the students from the dojo. Even then, all he did was put his hair up in a pony tail, shave enough to look somewhat respectable and pick up his uniform from one of the ladies down the hall who volunteered to press it for him.
Maybe it was time to clean more than the house. He walked into his clean bathroom and pulled out a pair of scissors. The internal battle was strong, but he rationalized what he was doing by saying it was what his mother would want. He reached back and grabbed the bulk of his hair in his hand and swiftly cut through the long tresses. Snipping here and there, he tried to even it up as much as possible and ended up settling for a messy, almost spiked look. Next he dug through the medicine cabinet and pulled out a can of shaving cream. Steam fogged the mirror as he lathered up his face.
Zoro stared at his reflection in wonder. He hadn't seen his clean-shaven face in roughly four years, about the same length of time he had let his hair grow as well. Sure there were times that he had shaved here and there around his jaw line, but never his entire face at once. Seeing so much smooth skin was almost like looking at a picture of his father when he was younger. The sting of memories caused Zoro to look away from the haunting sight; it wouldn't do for him to lose it now. Taking a deep breath he forced himself to look back at the mirror.
There were actually a few differences now that he took the time to study himself closer, the main one being hair color. His father's hair was black, and barely lay on his shoulders when not pulled into a topknot at the back of his head. The elder Roronoa was tall, though not overly muscled; his body more wiry than buff. Zoro gained his green locks from Sarah, his mother, but sadly that was all he inherited from her. She was a slender, willowy woman with fair skin and light green eyes who loved jazz or blues music and old black and white musicals. Her favorite food was shellfish and she loved to drink lemonade. His father liked classical, war movies, liver and onions, and sake. Separate, they couldn't be more different but when combined they were absolutely perfect. It was the first time Zoro had thought happily about his parents in years and a small amount of grief left him with the warm memories.
Zoro fingered the slim piece of metal that he had taken from his dresser, his mind not completely sure he was ready to face the task ahead. Everything of importance his parents had left had been secured behind the only locked door in the apartment; never to be touched since the key had been turned years ago. With change came choices, and Zoro had no choice left but to go through everything and make some long overdue decisions. Not everything could be kept, and some of it should probably be deposited in a safe box at the bank. Zoro remembered the expensive jewelry his mother loved to wear to parties and formal occasions, and he silently reprimanded himself for overlooking that piece of information. There were also several firearms from his father's collection in there as well as a beautiful katana that Zoro had longed to carry at his side. Taking a deep breath, Zoro knew it was time to finish. He walked to the spare bedroom door and inserted a key into the lock.
Closing his eyes and holding his breath, he entered the very dusty room. There was barely a pathway through all the boxes, each labeled in someone else's handwriting. Everyone had been wonderful to him back then, from Luffy who preparing to graduate high school, to Dr. Hiriluk, who had sadly died since then. Robin came over and organized things with Cutty Flam and the Franky Family, the men doing wonders with the heavy lifting. Nami proved her usefulness in helping auction off the major furniture and home décor that Zoro would never find a use for. The house itself had been bought by Iceburg, saying it was the perfect location on the coast where he could easily travel to the office and City Hall. Everything sentimental or personal had been packed away in each of these boxes, ready now to be sorted and rediscovered.
The sun had started its descent by the time Zoro sat in the middle of the floor with random items scattered everywhere. Business files were set aside to burn, along with back tax records and other personal information. Photo albums had already been put out on the bookshelves in his living room to look through later. The family pictures that had hung on the wall in his parent's home were in the pile for limbo. He wanted some of them, but he had no desire to look at twenty pictures of the same person every day; one or two would do nicely. There was a large safe that contained the jewelry and pistols, and also his and his parent's birth certificates. The katana wasn't found, but he had an idea that it might have been given to Smoker to hold on to. He'd ask the detective next time they talked. Turning, Zoro faced the multitude of boxes containing clothes.
His father's Armani suits were almost perfect for him, so they were hung in the closet next to the military dress uniform as well as his mother's wedding dress. It was a beautiful gown, made from the softest white silk, trimmed with hand-stitched embroidery and eighty-eight pearl buttons trailing down the back. Zoro had no idea why he kept it, but he felt that maybe someday it might prove useful. Who knows, maybe his own bride would wear it.
Shaking his head violently to rid himself of the image, he continued to box the clothes he didn't feel he could use. Robin was roughly his mother's size, though several inches taller, so Zoro decided to set aside the fancy party dresses for her. She was always going to extravagant museum and art openings, and his mother had often commented on how it was poor taste to wear the same thing twice. Zoro trailed his fingers over the plastic bag protecting the glittery fabric, remembering the last time his mother had worn the dress. Those were happy times that he hadn't allowed himself to think about in a long time. With a heavy heart, but lighter soul, he continued separating clothes.
By that evening, the only things Zoro was having difficulties knowing what to do with was his mother's research. Sarah had been a software programmer and her work was highly sought after so just throwing it all away seemed wrong. Neither he nor his father had ever had much of an understanding of what she did, but they both knew that the woman had been the bread maker of the family. Sarah had just signed a contract with a high profile company to begin work on a special assignment before the tragedy hit. Now, no one would ever be able to benefit from her gift of knowledge again.
Zoro looked at the large box of hard drives, discs, and equipment that had occupied his mother's office and wondered where to put it. In addition, there were three laptops and two different types of printers, a flat screen monitor and miles upon miles of cables. One laptop and printer he could see keeping, but not all of them. Maybe he could ask Smoker if he had anyone reliable in the department who could take a look at it and see if there was anything important stashed somewhere inside all this mess. Then Zoro could decide what to keep and what to toss. Shaking his head, Zoro finished setting the electronics aside. He didn't even know if any of them still worked.
Zoro stretched his arms above his head, his back popping back into place as he tried to loosen the muscles in his shoulders. He looked at all the boxes he had stacked by the front door and wondered what to do with them. Some would need to be taken to the basement of the building and thrown in to the incinerator, but the usable things… Maybe if he left them in the hall they would disappear. Zoro opened the door to do just that and was met with a colorful object practically shoved up his nose. He pushed the book down to give an annoyed look to its now teary eyed owner who was staring at the large stack of boxes.
"You're leaving? Do you not like us anymore?" Chimney's bottom lip quivered as she hugged the book and her ever-present bunny tight to her chest.
Zoro's brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, trying to figure out why she was there. He looked from her teary eyes to the book before remembering his earlier promise of ice cream. A sly grin crossed his face as he answered her. "Now who in their right mind would want an impish little munchkin like you around?"
Chimney looked up into his mischievous face and then kicked him hard in the shin. "That wasn't nice to trick me! I thought you were moving."
She stomped on his foot for added measure and stormed past him into the now clean apartment. Zoro nursed his abused calf and contemplated throwing her back out, but then again he did deserve it. He was about to ask her to leave when she spoke again.
"It doesn't stink in here anymore. Did you finally find the gremlin that kept destroying everything?"
Her honesty caught him off guard and it took Zoro a moment to remember the lie he had told her for why his place was always so messy before. "I think it's gone now. As long as I keep the place clean it will stay away."
"Ok." She skipped over to the windows and looked out at the waning light. With a light blush on her cheeks, she looked back at him and smiled shyly. "I like your haircut."
A little shocked at the compliment, Zoro couldn't hide the blush on his own cheeks as he just nodded his thanks. He quickly turned and headed into the kitchen to see if he had anything to offer her to drink that didn't contain alcohol. He watched her wander the room in awe for a moment before stopping at a picture that had just been hung on the wall next to the window. It showed a young Zoro frowning up at beautiful woman who was wiping tears from her eyes as she laughed, a tall black haired man behind them smiling softly at the scene.
"Zoro, who are these people in the picture?" Chimney asked, full of curiosity.
Zoro joined her with two glasses of Pepsi that was hopefully not too flat, and set the drinks on the now cleared coffee table.
"My parents," he said softly, still not ready to say much about them.
Chimney nodded, remembering the loss of her own family, and hurried over to join him on the couch, giggling as Zoro made room for her to crawl up in his lap. The book was pulled out and she held it up briefly for him to see before opening it and beginning.
"Junie B. Jones loves handsome Warren. My name is Junie B. Jones. The B stands for Beatrice. Except I don't like Beatrice…" Chimney's sweet voice brought to life the words in the story and Zoro listened with as much interest as he could muster.
The stress of the last few days began to wear on him and soon Zoro's eyes began to droop. A few nods later and he was out for the count. Chimney either didn't notice or didn't care as she continued to read about the little girl and her attempts to gain the new boy's attention. Midway through, Chimney stopped to take a drink, making a horrible face at the fizz-less pop. She snuggled back into Zoro's chest and wrapped his arms around her tightly, giggling when he nuzzled the top of her head in his sleep. Her forehead wrinkled in concern as she traced the bandage over Zoro's knuckles.
oOoOoOo
Zoro woke to the strange feeling of something vibrating against his hip and the warm bundle in his arms shifting slightly to escape the object. Cracking open an eye, he realized that he had fallen asleep with Chimney in his arms and somehow managed to end up with them both laying down, his head on the arm of the couch and hers on his chest. The vibrating started again and Zoro reached into his pocket to pull out his phone.
"Yah," he managed to get out, and then cleared his throat so he could speak a little clearer.
"Is this the fighter from the cages?" an unknown woman asked.
"Who is this?" Zoro sat up carefully, cradling Chimney to him so as not to drop her on the floor.
"You've been noticed, and my master would like to give you the opportunity to serve him." The woman's voice was soulless, void of emotion.
Zoro tightened his grip on the phone, not sure that he liked the fact that these people had gotten his number so easily. "You can tell your master to go fuck himself. I don't take orders from anyone."
"He will be very displeased to hear that you have refused his offer," the monotonous voice stated, ending the call with an almost silent click.
Chills went down Zoro's spine, sending warning signals throughout his body. Whoever this was, they were dangerous. Mentally berating himself, a little too late Zoro realized that maybe this was the person responsible for killing all the witnesses and officers lately. He pulled up the call log to see if the number showed, not surprised when the word PRIVATE came up. Cursing softly under his breath, Zoro wondered if there was a way to make this work for him. Maybe another show at the cages would bring him some more attention and even a second offer.
Chimney shifted in his arms and snuggled into Zoro's chest, apparently lulled by the beating of his heart in her ear. How easy it was for a child to remain blind to the worries of the world, leaving the adults to bear the burdens alone. Standing carefully, Zoro lifted the child in his arms and headed for the door. He passed by the stack of boxes and reminded himself that he needed to get rid of everything. After dropping Chimney off with Kokoro, who looked much better today, he began the tedious task of loading the lift with everything for the basement. When that chore was done, he began piling the rest of the boxes in the hall. They were marked for Goodwill, so maybe someone would take the hint and dispose of everything for him.
Still frustrated at missing the possible opportunity to get inside the ranks of the assassins, Zoro decided that he could use a little training and headed for the dojo. Koushirou had been his sensei long before he became Zoro's boss so when he asked for a key to the place so he could train anytime, the elder man was more than willing to accommodate him. Tonight would be only one of many times that Zoro had taken the opportunity to hone his skills in the moonlight. Zoro pulled his car into a vacant spot close to the entrance, never noticing the black Porsche that parked directly across the street when he went inside.
Foregoing the normal dojo attire, Zoro set his boots outside the practice room and stripped down to just his pants. Having brought only one sword, techniques unique to his personal style would be impossible to work on, but that didn't mean that he was without single sword fighting knowledge. It was the way his father fought, and the way Zoro had originally been instructed in before he began to develop his own rhythm. Bare feet padded across the mats and opened the shoji doors to reveal the starry sky. Zoro closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of the chilled air, letting it out slowly and with it some of the tension that had gathered in him. The wrapping on his hand stretched tightly as he gripped the sword and began to move.
Invisible enemies began to form around him, each with the same unknown face that he had given the murderer of his parents. As Zoro began slicing through each one, he poured every ounce of anger and resentment into every swing. When Smoker had shown up at the tournament instead of his father, Zoro knew something had happened, but not once had he accepted that the plane crash had been an accident. Only bits of the wreckage had been found leaving the anguished son to erect headstones over empty graves, never able to find closure in their passing. A blurred security image and an unusual symbol were the only clues he had to work with.
Time seemed to slow and everything stilled, allowing Zoro to almost see the cuts in the air around him as he continued to butcher his hated enemy. Sweat clung to his brow, dampening his hair and running from his neck to gather with the beads that had begun to form across his shoulders and back as he continued to vent his frustration with life. He could hear the sound of his mother's cheers as she would watch he and his father battle each other in this very room. He could see the way his father's eyebrow would raise on one side, mocking him as Zoro attempted to gain the upper hand and failed. He could smell the oils Kuina used as she cleaned the sword he now held in his hands. Unknowingly, a tear escaped down his face, mixing in with the sweat as if to hide its very existence.
oOoOoOo
Another turn and the blade almost sang as it passed easily through the target, sending the straw wrapped bamboo flying. Again and again the pole was attacked, each time from a different direction and angle. Huffs of steam escaped his mouth into the cold night air as he continued with his training. The ground was littered with broken pieces of the targets, each measured piece showing the deadly precision of the swordsman's movements. His grey and white hair hinted at his age, but to see the agility and speed his body possessed, no one would ever think him to be old. White fabric edged in black fluttered around him as he continued to train, his eyes unfocused though his blade deftly found its mark every time. Soon his assignment would be given and he would take yet another life, but it wouldn't matter. He'd take as many as they asked; as long as he could regain the one he lost.