Zoro

I nearly drop a mug when Luffy pounces on me in the kitchen.

"Careful!" I yell, trying to set it to one side. It's hard with Luffy's arms wrapped tight around me. I feel his breath warm a spot on my back as he presses his face against me.

"Well?" His voice comes out muffled "What do you think?"

I struggle to find an answer. "Of what?"

"You know what," He laughs. His breath tickles. I wriggle loose and go back to the dishes.

What do I think of him? What do I think of the shitty cook you admire so much? Of the perfectly slender, smooth talking, blonde-haired bastard who just waltzed in here, insulting my tea and filling the air with smoke?

I focus my thoughts. Blot out the negatives. "He wasn't impressed with the kitchen, " I mutter.

I hear the scrape of a chair as Luffy sits down behind me. "Really? I thought he said he liked it."

"He was being polite," I mumble. Why do I feel so negatively towards him? Whatever it is, I'll have to push it out of my mind. Luffy likes him, so I'll have to as well.

"I guess it would be nice to have a cook around." I force.

Luffy snaps it up anyway, smiling blissfully. "You two will get along."

And as soon as he says it, I know it'll happen. Like everything else he says with such conviction.

I take a deep breath and look over my shoulder at him. "The air's gonna be a lot smokier with him around."

"We could always open a few windows."

"Why are you always so positive?"

"Why are you so negative?" He mocks, imitating my voice.

I narrow my eyes at him. Luffy pulls a face and I can't resist splashing him with water from the sink.

"Hey!" He grabs a mug and dips it in the water, retaliating with a bigger splash. Before I can get him back, he retreats to the living room, laughing like a maniac and spilling water everywhere. I fill up another mug and run after him.

In the middle of our water fight, I begin to wonder if we'll still have moments like this when the shitty cook moves in. I dread the thought of loosing Luffy completely to him. As I lay on the living room floor next to the idiot himself, giggling between gasps for breath, I struggle to bring my thoughts to words.

"I'll miss this," I manage to mutter.

I hear Luffy shift to face me. "What do you mean?"

I hold in a sigh and pick myself up from the floor, collecting the mugs that are miraculously still intact. I answer him with a shrug.

He laughs. "We can still play. It'll be more fun because Sanji'll be here."

I scowl. "What makes you think he'll join in? He looks like a killjoy."

"Don't worry, he'll be fun." And with that, the topic drops.

Monday comes around like a weighted arrow. Luffy 'conveniently' forgets than he has an early shift at his cleaning job today. So I'm left in the flat on my own. On my own to greet that shitty cook and help him move in. I sit on the couch with my head slung over the back as I glare at the ceiling. The thought of going out for a while until Luffy gets home crosses my mind many times. So much so that I get close enough to standing at the door, keys in my hand.

Damn it. I hate this. I close my eyes and the image of Luffy's smile burns in my mind. I take a deep breath and turn back to face the rest of the flat. I should try to get along with the guy at least. For Luffy.

I don't have time to think about much else. I the cook's smooth, smoky droll muffling through the door, accompanied by a voice I don't recognise. I move to the spare room that will soon be filled with his crap. The lock on the door clicks open.

I turn to meet eyes with the cook. My chest tightens again. I clench my fists at my sides. His curly eye-brow lifts slightly when he sees me

"Marimo?" he says. What's with that nickname? As he looks around the rest of the flat, I get a glimpse of his friend behind him. A shrewd looking man, with thick, curly, black hair and an incredibly long nose.

The cook saunters in, struggling under the weight of a box in his arms. "Where's Luffy?"

"At work," my voice comes out like a growl, so I swallow my words. I move past him to his friend, taking the box from his hands.

"I'll help you with your boxes."

The long nosed man seems surprised, but lets me take his box. "Hey, thanks." He says. "I'm Usopp, by the way. I live a few streets down the road from here with my wife."

"Zoro," I introduce myself. I have a feeling if I don't interrupt this guy, he'd talk forever.

That didn't stop him though. As soon as I placed the cook's box in the living room and turned into the hallway, Usopp starts telling me his entire life story. I glance over my shoulder before I leave the flat and catch the cook slamming his box down on the kitchen table, fumbling around his pockets for his cigarette with a scowl on his face. I swallow down guilt and head down the hall. Looks like getting along with this guy is going to be harder than I thought.

Sanji

Fucking marimo bastard. I fumble around my pocket for my light, biting another cigarette in my lips. He pisses me off so much. I take a long drag, filling my lungs with warm, spicy smoke before letting it all out in a thick haze. I'm instantly relaxed, but I can't shake the thought completely. Fucking marimo. What the fuck did I do? Sure I can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, but this guy didn't even give me a chance to be one.

I hear Usopp's squaky voice coming up the steps, along with marimo's grunts and hums of agreement. I start unpacking the box I've brought up. I hope Ussop is boring him to death. But when they appear around the doorway, they're both smiling. Zoro's quickly drops when he sees me though.

I bite harder on my cigarette. What the fuck is up with him? As if sensing the tension in the air, Usopp quickly breaks into the room.

"Hey, Sanji, where do you want these boxes?"

I turn and flash Usopp a friendly smile. Well two can play at this game. "Just stack them by the floor. I can unpack them later."

I stride past the two, towards the hallway, blowing a thick puff of smoke as I pass the green-haired bastard. "Don't mess those boxes up, marimo," I chide, dragging out his nickname.

He scowls. "I'll try not to, curlycue."

I narrow my eyes at him and he returns the glare before I disappear around the doorway. Looks like this won't be an easy game, but I always enjoy a challenge.

A few dozen boxes later, the flat looks a more like a store warehouse than a home. I'm at the door, biding goodbye to Usopp.

"Thanks for all the help again."

"Hey no problem," Usopp zips up his jacket and points a thumb at himself. "If you guys ever need anything, just give me a ring. I know I don't look it, but I'm the best handy man in town. Pipe bust or cooker broken, I'll fix it. Hey, you guys should come over for dinner sometime too. Kaya will be happy to have guests."

"I'd love to come over," I say, holding the door open for him. "I'll see if I can get Luffy and that damn marimo to come too."

Usopp laughs. "Alright. Nice to meet you, Zoro!" He calls in, before disappearing down the hall. Zoro gives him a nod. He hasn't said a word since I've been around.

When I close the door with a resounding click, the realisation of what I'm left with hits me. Shit. Maybe I should've made some coffee or something so Usopp could stay longer and break the silence.

I turn around, catch marimo's gaze before he opens the fridge and cracks open a can of beer. The hate is still burning in his eyes. I can tell. I light up another smoke, force myself to think calmly, play nice. He's my flat mate now. We'll have to come to some neutral ground if we're gonna share living space.

"Have you had lunch yet?" I break the silence hanging over our heads. I dig into one of the boxes I have opened on the table and start to pull out my pots and pans. "I brought some groceries before I came here. I can make something quick."

"I don't want anything," he says, walking towards his bedroom.

I grit my teeth. "Have you eaten though?" I could barely keep the anger from my voice.

"I said I don't want anything."

"That's beside the point." I start laying pans out. "You think, as a cook, I'll let you go unfed?"

He shrugs, eyes looking everywhere but at me. "Whatever. I'm not hungry."

He enters his room and shuts the door with a light thud behind him. I take a long drag and dig my nails into my palms. It's all I can do to stop myself from chasing him down kicking him in the head.

I turn back to all the boxes piled neatly around the place. Damn bastard didn't even offer to help unpack.