I'm gonna win
Boy, your game is over
Try to play, but your odds are ten to one
Keep the change after I'm done
Witcha
You won't know what
Hitcha
You're not fooling anyone
"That bastard!" Sanji screamed in frustration. After he spent eight fucking days in depression, avoiding work, Ace, and especially Zoro, said D. brother finally tells him this? Rage was coursing through the blonde's veins, but at the same time, he applauded the marimo. Applauded him for his serious acting, succeeding in making his sob, and pretty much for his plan in general. Because now, this was going to stop. And he was going to be the winner.
"Seriously, the hell's wrong with you both?" Ace asked in amazement. Yes, he had told Sanji the swordsman's version of "it" since he couldn't bear to see his best friend in such a defeated state. Ace is not one to spill secrets so easily, but damn it, this was getting ridiculous. This was about Sanji trying to win over the extremely dense Zoro, and the moss head doing the same. When did it turn into a damn contest? What was Sanji talking about, "winning"? At what exactly?
"You do realized that if you so called "lose," you don't actually lose, right?" Ace continued, trying to knock some sense into the other. They both had the same goal, proving to be a pointless competition. The cook ignored him as he thought about different solutions, not even trying to consider Ace's opinion. This, indeed, was about winning and getting Zoro, but it was more or less about revenge as well. The bastard marimo actually got Sanji to spiral into dark confusion for an entire week, thinking that he would never see him again, thinking that Zoro did want to see him again, thinking that he hated him, thinking that he loved him.
Sanji lit his bent up cigarette irritably.
"Ooh, it's on," the blonde said to Ace, grinning around the cancer stick, "Ooh, it definitely is. And, Ace, if you tell him about what I'm doing, I'll kick your balls so far up your stomach that you'll have two extra uvulas. Now, he thinks he's got me cornered, but in reality, he actually is. Catch my drift?"
"...No, not really," the D. brother admitted. Sanji tapped his chin, thinking of a simpler way of putting it in terms.
"It's like a game of Cat and Mouse. Or better yet...Tom and Jerry. Tom always corners Jerry, but somehow, some way, Jerry always gets out of it."
"Well, there were a few-"
"Shut up. Now, think of the marimo as Jerry, and I'm Tom. But now, I'm Jerry and he's Tom. Once my plan succeeds, the tables would be turned yet again." Ace could feel his brain shutting down from all the inception. He got the concept of it, but not what the cook was getting at.
"So, it would just be a never-ending episode of Tom and Jerry?" Ace concluded.
"No, because I'll be sure to use a bigger mallet this time." Sighing, Sanji waved him off, deeming it useless. Bottom line, Ace needed to keep his damn mouth shut. Nothing more, and nothing less from him.
"Anyway, I won't start my Tom card until the month is over. And remember," Sanji growled, "keep that trap of yours sprung." And with that, the blonde grabbed his jacket and stalked off to the Baratie, declaring, "I will prove that Warner Brothers doesn't have shit on me!"
"Wait," Ace yelled irritably, "I thought this was about Zoro!" The fire starter sighed, sitting down on Sanji's couch. One thing's for sure, the blonde owed Zeff one hell of an explanation on his extended vacation.
H{}H
Zoro waved his students away as each one climbed into their parents' car and drove off. After everyone left, he began to clean up the dojo, putting away the wooden swords. It's been about a week since he's seen Sanji, and he's beginning to regret what he did. His version of "it" might have been too brutal, but the cook sort of deserved it. Though, he couldn't deny the aching feeling in his chest that he'd gone too far, crushing his chance with the cook and losing their game. But Sanji wasn't one to give up so easily. As of right now, Zoro had the upper hand, and the blonde would do anything to get his advantage back.
"Roronoa, are the kids gone?" a smooth voice questioned, entering the room. The moss head gave a grunt of approval, putting the rest of the swords away in the closet. Mihawk, his boss and owner of the dojo, hummed in relief. Kids tended to pick up faster than adults, which is why Zoro applied for this job, but children were just as tiring as the grown-ups. Mihawk noticed how distracted the marimo seemed to be lately, and he was sick of it. The swordsman usually took pride in teaching, but for the past week he has been slacking in techniques. The owner stared at him with his silted pupils until Zoro turned around to face him, obviously feeling the other's gaze.
"Uh, yeah? What is it? What's wrong? Stop staring, damn it. It's creepy," Zoro sneered at him.
"That's precisely the point. Tell me what is wrong, or I will continue," Mihawk threatened. The swordsman scowled, but knew that his boss could be an asshole when it came to getting what he wanted. Groaning, Zoro locked the closet door and met the other's eyes, as much as it freaked him out.
"I'm having problems," he claimed.
"Everyone does. What makes your case all the more unique?"
"No, I...Ugh, I just yelled, kissed, and slapped someone and now I don't know what to do," the marimo breathed out, watching to see if that caused a reaction on his boss's never-changing expression. Mihawk's eyebrows did twitch, but nothing else appeared to be swayed. An awkward moment of silence engulfed them before the older spoke.
"I...don't know about you, Roronoa, but there is no other option than to apologize."
"I will NOT apologize to an ass like him! Besides, he needs to apologize to me before I do anything," Zoro stated, voice slightly raised in volume. Again, Mihawk only stared. The swordsman cursed at himself for spilling all of that out on his boss, of all people. It wasn't like the man even cared, he was being polite. Though, Zoro wondered if he was right. Should he just apologize and get it over with? The blonde would never let it be that simple, and brag about how he broke the swordsman down, and won the game. Hell no, his pride wouldn't let him imagine it, let alone let it happen. He would wait until Sanji made his next move, and that was final.
"So," Mihawk began suddenly, "it is a boy, then?"
"DAMN IT," Zoro flushed, "Jus-just shut up! I'll see you tomorrow."
H{}H
After three long, torturous weeks, Sanji's plan went into motion. It was a simple, on-step plan: guilt trip the idiot. If Zoro did love him, he'd do something cheesy to get him to stop yelling. If he didn't, he'd most likely yell back and make Sanji leave. Either way, an answer is an answer. The blonde stood in front of the marimo's front door, amping himself up for the best acting of his life. Oh, yes, he was very determined. He already took about three eye drops, he held his breath to make his face extremely red, and he even ruffled his hair up a bit. In his better judgment, he looked like he was just jacked and robbed, but this would do fine.
With the door bell rung, Sanji waited, trembling to make it seem believable. The swordsman opened the door moments later, flashing a concerned expression that made the cook's inner demon cackle. "Sanji?" Zoro called, no insult, no nickname. This was the start of something mischievous.
"Z-Zoro," the cook began, forcing his voice to break, "I-I'm sorry. It was stupid of me to get you drunk and take advantage of you. I know, I'm disgusting and rude and just a damn bastard at that. I hate myself for doing that to you, and even more that I hurt you. I deserve to die, no, I deserve to live in the shame of being low-life scum. Dying's too good for me. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry, and I'll never bother you ever, ever again. I don't expect you to forgive me, but as long as you know that I don't even forgive myself, I hope it makes you feel a little bett-"
"Shit-cook," the swordsman stated, cutting the blonde off. Sanji looked up from the ground, trying his best not to let loose a wide grin. Did he succeed in his guilt trip? Zoro suddenly pulled him inside, shutting the door with a slam. The cook grinned, expecting a heartfelt confession, but instead collided with the wall. Zoro had a fistful of his shirt, lifting him two inches off of the carpet. Sanji winced; so his plan didn't work after all?
"Shit-cook," Zoro growled deeply, pressing his nose roughly against the blonde's, "You're a terrible liar."
"Wh-huh? What makes you think I was lying? I'm really sorry, marimo," the cook stated angrily. The swordsman smirked at the words, tilting his head slightly to close the gap between them. Sanji gasped in shock, but quickly relaxed and relished the soft feeling of Zoro's lips. The kiss was gentle, and it spoke more than words could. Zoro pulled away slowly, panting and gazing into Sanji's eyes. The cook remained silent, in a daze by the mesmerizing act of affection. Smirking, the marimo laid his forehead against the other's. "I win."
"What the fuck?" Sanji yelled, "How?"
"You didn't honestly believe I would buy that, did you? You had a creepy smile the entire time you talked! You couldn't fool anyone with that acting," the swordsman claimed, letting Sanji stand. The blonde opened his mouth, but it shut by itself. He really thought he had more control over his facial expression.
"Shitty bastard, you didn't win anything. Someone still has to say the words," Sanji pointed out. Confused, Zoro raised an eyebrow. What the hell was he talking about? Didn't he already apologize? What other words could possibly be said? Realization hit the marimo hard, causing his eyes to widen.
"Oooh! Is it 'I love you'?" he asked. Sanji smirked as he wrapped his arms around the swordsman's neck. He didn't think Zoro was stupid enough to say it aloud, but that just made it all the more easier. A small kiss was placed on the moss head's lips before Sanji chuckled.
"No, now I win."