A/N: I still do not own One Piece or any of its affiliated characters.

The trick when facing off in this type of situation wasn't necessarily in who was quicker, but in having the best focus.

Zoro was currently losing that battle.

Luffy lay a couple yards away in a curled, burnt ball of limbs, one of the most recent casualties at the hands of Nami's famous curve ball. He had been avenged only after a dollar bill had innocently flown from the kendo club captain's gym shorts and she'd dived for it; a shot to the face leaving her skin red and irritated as she pouted on the sidelines.

"You got this…Zoro-aniki…" Zoro glanced over at Franky, milking his injury in Robin's lap on their teams side of the gym. Somehow his words of encouragement seemed watered down when brought about by the joy he was no doubt experiencing while playing kitten to Robin's perfectly manicured (and consequently, lazy) hands. She'd lobbed her ball to Hancock, almost like they'd rehearsed her loss in the locker room, and welcomed being the first one out. Not that having Sanji as team captain this round had made that pick a surprise. It might've been worse if she'd decided to actually try competing. Her height was obnoxious anyway. And, yeah. He was still a little pissed the curly brow had had the gull to pick him last even though he knew he was invaluable.

But back to the issue…

"You look distressed," Hancock's synthetic voice echoed off the bleachers, letting everyone else in on their shit talking before one of them decided they'd had enough of staring and resorted to blows. Her ridiculous ponytail rippled off her ass for every bystander to dwell on while she walked towards the half court line with confidence. Zoro tried to focus on anything but what had knocked out half his teammates up to this point. (Including the apparently ever faithful Franky.)

"You shouldn't let me distract you," she coaxed, leaning on one hip and spinning the rubber ball on one finger casually. "Nobody would blame you if you bowed out. Since you've resisted for so long, they might question your sexuality, though…"

"SHUT THE HELL UP," the green haired jock screamed, blushing madly and pointing out the hall. "Sanji's an idiot, but he didn't have a chance. You sent him to the nurses office. That's not even fair."

"I simply forgot we had gym today," she pouted, jiggling exaggeratedly just to torture him more. "I don't carry around a sports bra if it's not needed…"

"YOU'RE NOT EVEN WEARING ANY SORT OF BRA."

"Details."

"YOU'RE DESPICABLE."

"I'll let you touch one if you lose now."

"LIKE HELL," he roared, a chorus of his friends screaming for him to take the deal and moaning in disappointment with Zoro's priorities at his (admittedly unsurprising) decision to keep going.

I've got one chance…

She cackled like the witch she was, leaped up in the air, and raised the ball high with her powerful arm. He knew that he needed every ounce of concentration to time it right.

When the ball left her hand, he ducked and slid forward into the half court line, whipping what was his teams last hope for victory. She cried out in surprise when the rubber made contact with her unconfined chest, the momentum of her jump making them bounce to block her view for a split second and taking the blow that would've made contact with her face.

Zoro was declared a loser by every guy in his class. How could any moron take winning the dodgeball tournament over Boa 'Boob' Hancock's offer to feel her chest? Well, fuck all of them. She was probably lying anyway. Not that it mattered. He didn't care. And even though the other team'd had to run laps for losing, Zoro'd taken the opportunity to run anyway. Hancock'd sat crying with two ice packs sitting on her poor, swollen water balloon boobs and enhancing the visibleness of her nipples through the gym uniform shirt.

A win was a win. That's what she got for trying to play dirty.

He grabbed his stuff from his locker, and nearly fell over in fright when it revealed the face of the woman he'd just owned on the court. He barely had time to wonder if she was out for revenge or something worse before she had him pinned against a row of lockers, her naked, reddened breasts acting as an extra pair of arms.

"They hurt," she growled in his ear, moving to guide his hands up to massage them. "Take responsibility."

"I have kendo practice," he said weakly. She glared and dared him to move from her grip with her eyes.

"You're going to have to miss it."

And he did. In fact, he missed kendo so many times that semester, he was nearly kicked out. But every time the rest of the team walked out from the locker room after gym to see Hancock bra free and standing outside, waiting for them to leave her prey and herself alone, it left enough to their imaginations and put bro-to-bro forgiveness in their hearts. Zoro was never called a loser again.