15 Reasons to Fall in Love
Chapter 9
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece.
8. Zoro is more in love with his swords than anything.
Zoro never set his swords aside for even a moment, and cared for them like they were his children. That was okay, Sanji could respect that. It was good to have something so treasured. But Sanji wanted to be treasured like that, and not play second fiddle to a piece of steel.
"Is it just me, or did these woods suddenly get really weird?" Sanji asked.
They had finished their lunch and, while it broke Sanji's heart to leave such a serene scene behind him, they headed deeper into the woods in search of something more than apples in way of food. So far this forest had been exactly like the forests he remembered as a kid, so he knew if they could find the right places they'd find plenty to eat. The woods were large though, and getting there could take time. He glanced uncertainly at the canopy of leaves above him. It'd been late morning when they'd left the ship, and surely by now it was heading towards late afternoon. He wouldn't leave the island without a proper abundance of food, but at this rate he was more concerned with finding tonight's dinner before the sun went down.
He had been interrupted in his worries when a tanned and sturdy arm shot out and blocked his path. He'd nearly been clothes lined by its sudden appearance and was only saved by his own quick reflexes.
"What the hell are you doing, idiot?" He snapped at the swordsman.
Zoro shushed him and pointed ahead. Sanji followed the direction his finger was pointing and spied a squirrel sitting on a log some distance away.
"That's what you nearly knocked me down for? A squirrel?" He growled irritably. "What, you've never seen one before? Let me inform you, Marimo, they're not so much different from rats."
"Look closer, Shit-cook," The swordsman frowned, pointing again at the squirrel.
Sanji did as he was told, only to be able to satisfactorily ridicule the idiot marimo some more. His plans were ruined when he saw what it was the swordsman was pointing at. The squirrel in question looked ordinary enough, with reddish fur, beady black eyes, and two tails curved over its back. Yes, that's right, two tails. That in itself was strange, but that wasn't the strangest part. The strangest part was that the squirrel sat on its haunches, clutching the remains of what appeared to be the leg of an animal and happily eating away at it. It was a long leg, and the animal it had belonged to should have been large enough to spook a small squirrel.
Sanji suppressed a shudder. The leg was fresh; Sanji of all people knew fresh meat when he saw it, though last he'd checked squirrels didn't have much of an interest in fresh meat.
He and Zoro took a slightly different route, giving the squirrel a wide berth. It wasn't that either of them was afraid of the carnivorous squirrel, of course they weren't. They were men, armed with lethally sharp swords and killer legs. However it didn't seem polite to interrupt the poor thing's meal. That, and maybe because it was possible a meat-eating squirrel would have no qualms about attacking the ankles of a passerby, and neither really felt like dealing with that. So they avoided the squirrel entirely, seeming to form an unspoken agreement that they were to pretend this never happened.
Still with the thought of the carnivorous squirrel implanted in his mind, Sanji took a closer look at the forest around him. Though it did still resemble the forests from his childhood, there were things that were absolutely foreign to him as well: Plant life that he'd never seen before, animals that were warped counterparts of the ones in his memory, insect calls that could drown out even the birds singing. Sanji shuddered at that last observation. He was never very comfortable with things that had more than four legs.
"This is the Grand Line," Zoro grumbled. "I don't know why we were expecting anything normal."
Sanji laughed in agreement. They had not come across a single island that resembled anything close to normal since they'd crossed the Red Line. The closest they'd come to "normal" was probably Alabasta; of course there'd been a civil war instigated by an overly ambitious warlord at the time, just the Straw Hat's luck. There was no island they would stop at that would be completely safe.
Though if carnivorous squirrels were the worst they had to put up with on this island, they would be lucky. After all, the squirrel had made no move to attack them, and in fact the wildlife of the forest had been avoiding them all day, scampering away before the two pirates could even get a good look at them. So perhaps they weren't so different from the wildlife in a forest outside of the Grand Line...except they had two tails and ate other animals.
"Let's go, Marimo," Sanji sighed. "Meat-loving squirrels or not, we have a dinner to find."
Watching Sanji hunt for food was as fascinating as watching Sanji cook their food. That could be because Zoro knew very little about gathering food like this. If he'd been on his own to get food, he'd have stopped at the berries they'd seen a couple hours before. They had looked absolutely appetizing compared to the bunch of grassy looking plants Sanji was looking at now.
"I think these are edible," He remarked before tearing one of the leaves away from the others and popping it into his mouth. He chewed it thoughtfully for a moment, assessing the taste and considering the flavors it could match well with. "These will be good in a salad," He concluded. "Remember this spot, Marimo, will need to come back here and get these before we head back to the Sunny."
Zoro looked at their surroundings with a frown. He'd never admit this to the cook, or anyone else for that matter, but he had no idea where the Sunny was exactly from where they stood. Had he been on his own, he'd have walked around the woods for a long while, searching for something familiar that would give him a clue as to which way to go. As it was, he was sort of expecting the cook to know the way back to the ship, as well as to remember where things like this bunch of grass were.
As he scanned the surrounding area, checking for landmarks that would lead him back to this place (though all he could see for miles was trees and nothing more obvious than that), he could feel the cooks eyes on him. "What are you staring at, Shit-cook?"
"I'm watching an idiot swordsman trying to get his bearings. It's fascinating. I didn't think you'd actually try and make an effort. I don't know which is funnier: the fact that you're actually trying or the fact that your methods are just going to end up getting us both lost later," Sanji smirked, his tone playing between amused and condescending.
Zoro's face reddened in both anger an embarrassment. Trust the shitty cook to poke fun at him when he was trying to be helpful. The worst part was that Zoro had almost been a little hopeful. If he could remember this spot he could impress the cook later when he found it again and maybe that bastard would be at least a little pleased with him. It wasn't like he wasn't used to arguing with the cook, in fact he thrived on it, but he also wanted Sanji to be impressed with him, even if just a little. Sanji popped that little bubble of hope though, before it had even gotten the chance to get off the ground.
When he'd managed to find that spot by the river earlier, he'd felt the same way; perhaps this was a way to impress the cook, to prove to him that Zoro was more than an idiot with a few swords. The cook had seen through that just as easily though. So what if Zoro had gotten a little lost for a moment? That's what led him to the clearing after all, so it was a good thing, right?
Sanji watched the array of emotions play over the swordsman's face. There was a subtle redness in his face coupled with the lack of a sharp response surprised the cook a little bit. Was it his imagination, or did the swordsman actually look a little hurt? He was used to jabbing insults at Zoro and receiving them back in full measure, so the lack of response made the cook feel a little guilty. There was a line he must have crossed, where his insults went from acceptable to cruel, though he hadn't seen the edge until he'd already pushed Zoro over it.
"Hey, Marimo," Sanji started, dropping the usually harsh tone he took with the swordsman. "I was just kidding, you know that, right?"
Zoro's frown deepened but his expression cleared to a scowl that looked infinitely more familiar on the moss-head's face. "Shut it, Cook," He growled. "I wouldn't want to remember where that stuff was anyway, it looks like grass."
Sanji was relieved to see the old Zoro back. He wasn't quite sure how to deal with the strange, almost vulnerable Zoro he'd seen just a moment before. It was way beyond his ability to comprehend, and made him feel pained for no apparent reason. "Well, Shitty-marimo, it is a grass of sorts," Sanji said, plucking another lengthy leaf and popping it in his mouth. It hung from his lips in the absence of his usual cigarette and he chewed it thoughtfully some more, exploring the taste further. It was a little bitter, but had a sweet edge at the end. With the right mixture of ingredients and the right dressing on top, it would make a lovely salad. "But I'm going to make a salad out of it, and we could use the fresh greens, so deal with it," He finished, continuing on their journey to find food.
The woods seemed to close in on them as they went on. They'd started out pleasant and open enough, with the trees spaced just enough to allow the occasional beam of sunlight down. It had been light and airy, and a far cry different from the near suffocating enclosure of trees they'd stumbled into now. It wasn't evening yet, but the limited sunlight that filtered down through thick leaves and branches made Sanji feel as if night was coming early. He'd even checked his watch a few times in disbelief that it was just a few hours past midday.
The bird song faded into a quiet background noise and the hum of insects took its place. Sanji checked his watch again; perhaps it was broken? The second hand ticked steadily though, and Sanji tracked it for a full minute before accepting that his watch wasn't lying to him. He stared warily around him. The trees were much closer, and there were too many blind spots for something sinister to hide. It made him uncomfortable.
The swordsman didn't look the least bit phased by the sudden change in scenery. He continued on at the same pace he'd been going at. Sanji wondered if the marimo had even noticed the difference or if he was wandering with absolutely no awareness about where he was headed. That seemed pretty likely to Sanji, who'd seen the marimo get lost when he was following the others around.
Sanji slowed his pace a bit, allowing the swordsman to walk ahead of him. Zoro sent him a curious glance, but took the lead without any argument or comment. That worked out better for Sanji. He wasn't as fantastic a navigator as the lovely Nami-san, but he was confident enough in his ability to let Zoro choose their course. That left Sanji to watch their backs and keep track of the marimo, all at the same time. These woods really did not settle well with him.
After another half an hour of walking with absolutely no change in surroundings, Sanji was ready to call off their hunt for food. They by no means had enough for another voyage, but they'd get through a decent meal tonight. Sanji would just have to come back tomorrow and try elsewhere. For now though, he'd be much happier putting these denser woods behind him.
He was beginning to hear things. He told himself it was the scampering of small animals like before, but with the dark denseness and the constant hum of insects acting on his imagination, the cracking of dried leaves sounded different. The animals' movements over the leaves sounded sharper, louder, like they were made by something larger or heavier than your run of the mill squirrel. Not to mention, the macabre memory of the carnivorous squirrel before wasn't helping his imagination at all.
Sanji was just about to call the marimo back and turn them around when Zoro stopped dead in his tracks and turned back to the cook. "Are those edible?" He asked, pointing ahead of them.
Ahead of them was a tree, a brighter, warmer green than the other trees around it. It was eye catching with the darker trees around it, but that wasn't what caught Sanji's attention most about the tree. Dangling from its branches were green pods, roughly the size of one of Chopper's rumble balls. Sanji moved for a closer inspection.
The ground below was littered with casings and shells from the tree above, picked over by the wildlife of the forest, but it gave Sanji an idea of what he could find above. He knelt down and sifted through the debris. There were the dried remains of the green casings he could see above, though they'd gone grey with age. There were shells too, brown, slightly textures pieces of them broken and scattered around wildly. They were broken in to pieces too small for Sanji to identify what kind of nut he might have found in them (if he would have recognized the shell at all) but they told him exactly what he needed to know; he was standing beneath a tree that grew some kind of nut, and the variety of dishes Sanji could create with nuts were endless.
"These are perfect," He said, standing and flashing the swordsman a warm smile. "Good find for a brainless marimo," He added.
Zoro scowled at him. "Well I can't believe a shitty cook like you could miss it."
Sanji let the comment pass and stared up at the tree again. It was taller than the apple tree, though not impossibly tall. Still, the nearest group of pods dangled a tantalizing three feet out of his reach. It'd be impossible to pick them like they had the apples, but for that reason Sanji had high hopes for their quality. The harder they were to reach, the less chance they had of being damaged. He was sure a squirrel could easily pick them off, but it seemed the squirrels around here enjoyed a steady diet of meat, so perhaps they'd left the nuts alone.
"So how do we get them?" Zoro asked curiously, noticing the same problem Sanji had.
"We climb up and get them, dumbass," Sanji replied, circling the tree to find the lowest branch. There was one that was just a short jump up from where he stood. From there he could kick off the trunk of the tree and easily hoist himself into the tree, but he paused before making the leap.
He pressed his hand gently against the trunk of the tree. It was dark brown and deeply textured, and under the cook's hands it felt rough and unforgiving. There was no give in the bark, and there were sharp ridges that could easily tear into flesh given enough pressure. Sanji sighed and stepped away from the tree again, staring forlornly up at the distant pods.
"What's wrong?" Zoro asked, looking up at the tree in confusion.
"We can't get up there," Sanji reached out and touched the bark of the tree again. "It's too rough; we'd tear up our hands."
Zoro touched the bark thoughtfully. True it was rough, and the idea of pulling himself up by a branch covered in this stuff didn't exactly appeal...but he'd been through far worse pain, and a few scrapes on his palms would hardly make a difference to him in the long run. A scrape was just a scrape to Zoro, no matter where it was. He took pain with a healthy dose of training and called it a strengthening experience.
The cook wasn't weak to pain either, Zoro had seen the other man stand up with several broken ribs and continue fighting as if nothing was wrong. He'd seen the cook crushed repeatedly under the pressure of the ocean, and still end his battle in perfect form. A scrape probably wouldn't mean a thing to the cook either. A scrape on his hands was an entirely different story though. Sanji took such great care of his hands that he'd sooner die than do any lasting damage to them. Tearing up his hands was out of the question for the cook.
Zoro sighed and pulled the pack from his shoulders. He opened it up and approached the cook. "Turn around," He ordered.
Sanji opened his mouth to berate the swordsman for his bad manners, but before he got the chance to speak he was roughly shoved on one shoulder and forced to spin to keep his balance.
"What the hell are you doing, Shitty-marimo?" He demanded. He felt a rough tug at the straps on his shoulders and rolled them in his annoyance.
"Giving you my apples," Zoro said, already moving them from one pack to another. Despite his rough treatment of the cook, he was gentle as he placed the apples in the cook's pack. He knew they'd bruise if he was careless, and he'd rather not feel the cook's wrath about any wasted food later. "I can't climb up there with all these apples on my back and then add those pods on top of it all."
Sanji looked at Zoro over his shoulder. "You don't have to go up there, Marimo. I told you, you'll tear up your hands."
Zoro smirked. "Well I don't have sissy hands like you, so I can take a little pain," He replied. He knew it wasn't the pain that was preventing Sanji from climbing the tree on his own, but he wasn't going to miss the opportunity to bruise the cook's ego.
"It's not the pain I'm worried about, moron," Sanji spat. "And last I checked you need your hands to hold your swords, so I don't know why you're thinking you're better off."
Zoro finished transferring the apples and closed the cook's pack before responding. "Do you want those things or not, Cook?" He asked, pointing up at the pods about their head.
Sanji's jaw clicked shut. He very much wanted to tell the swordsman to give it up, but he also really wanted to use whatever nuts those were in tonight's meal and in their journey from here on. His brain took too long warring over the appropriate answer, and Zoro had already moved below the lowest branch, crossing under it a bit to find the best angle to jump from.
"Oh," Zoro muttered to himself, looking as if an idea had just struck him like a bolt of lightning. He returned to where Sanji stood, fumbling with something on his waist as he went.
"Hold these," He said to Sanji, depositing three heavy swords into Sanji's arms. "Watch out for this one," He added, tapping lightly on the hilt of one of them. Kitetsu it was called, if Sanji remembered correctly. "It's moody."
Sanji gripped the swords to his chest quickly, almost dropping them in his shock. "Oi," He called to the retreating swordsman. "What the hell are you doing?" He asked for the second time.
Zoro didn't bother looking at him as he replied. Instead he focused on lining up under the branch again. "It'll be easier getting up without them. They'll slow me down in the branches and I want to make this a quick trip," He stated before making his leap. He caught the branch easily. Sanji would have had to kick of the tree trunk and twist up into the branches that way, but Zoro's upper body strength far surpassed his own and he easily hoisted himself up into the tree.
Sanji left the swordsman to his own devices and stared in awe at the objects in his arms. He'd never touched Zoro's swords before, mostly because they were always attached to Zoro's side. He knew they were the swordsman's treasures, like the famous straw hat was to their captain. Except Zoro took vastly better care of his swords than Luffy did his worn out hat, Sanji had seen the swordsman spend hours sharpening, cleaning, and practicing with each of his swords individually. To Zoro, each sword had its own personality and temperament. That showed how well he knew each of them.
Sanji's treasure was his kitchen as a whole, and while he valued each of his tools, they were nowhere near as precious as Zoro's swords. If a knife became too dull, and no amount of sharpening could bring it back, Sanji could easily replace it at the next port. He might feel slightly sad letting his old knife go, but in the end the replacement would please him just as much. The same feelings applied if a pot became dented or a frying pan lost its handle. Sanji took care of his tools because it would be wasteful not to and because they were important in his trade, not because he had any especially strong feelings towards any of them individually.
Zoro's swords on the other hand, could not easily be replaced. He'd already seen the swordsman suffer the loss of one of his swords. He'd given it a proper send off, a funeral service for ruined swords. He took the loss well on the outside, but Sanji knew he still felt it on the inside.
Zoro never removed his swords. He slept with the damn things strapped to his waist. If he did take them off for training (or to bathe, as Sanji assumed he didn't take them into the bath with him) they were never more than an arm's length away from him. Zoro was a swordsman down to his core, and he would never be caught off guard without his weapons. The fact that he'd easily passed them off to Sanji overwhelmed the cook. He was being trusted with everything that was Zoro in his arms.
He admired the white one (Wado, he believed) and felt a small pang of jealousy. Of all of his swords, this one seemed to be truly precious to the swordsman. Zoro almost seemed to share a bond with this sword, as if it were a living thing. Sanji knew it was stupid to feel jealous of an inanimate object, but the idea that this sword received more care and affection from Zoro than Sanji had ever felt from another person caused another pang in his chest.
"How many of these did you want?" Zoro shouted down to him.
Sanji ripped his gaze from the white sword and shook his previous thoughts from his head. "Just get as many as you can," He called back to the marimo.
Zoro nodded and Sanji was left to his thoughts again. He decided not to think too much about what the swords meant to Zoro, and instead admired each one in turn, from hilt to scabbard. He didn't dare draw any of them out. The idea felt almost invasive, like walking in on Zoro in the shower or something. No, the blades were for Zoro's eyes only; Sanji didn't need to look at them too closely.
He was so captivated by the swords he never heard the figure approaching from behind. It wasn't until he felt a tap on his shoulder that he even realized he was no longer alone beneath the tree. A very brief intake of his surroundings told him the swordsman was still in the tree, and he immediately tensed, prepared for an attack.
The person behind him tapped his shoulder again. It was more of a slap, unrestrained and hardly gentle, though not really hard enough to hurt him. It was like a slap on the back that one of his crewmates might give him after a victory or during a drunken party. The idea hardly relaxed him though; he knew it couldn't possibly be one of his nakama. They were never so quiet at the one behind him was. Perhaps it could have been Robin, but then Robin wasn't really one for slaps on the back. Bracing himself for whoever may be behind him, Sanji pushed off with his left leg and spun quickly on his right heel, putting a little bit of distance between him and the new comer.
The sight before him stunned him into silence for hardly a moment before he let out a yelp that hardly sounded masculine. Behind him stood a cricket the size of a small deer but with longer legs. The thing that had been tapping Sanji's shoulder so playfully had been one of the insect's feelers, which were dancing around the crickets head curiously.
Sanji cried out again and backed into the tree, fully prepared to risk his hand, his legs, anything to get away from the overly large bug. He hated bugs, especially large ones. The largest bugs he'd seen so far in the Grand Line had been on Jaya, and compared to the cricket before him now, those had been small.
Before he could claw his way up the tree though, a figure dropped from the top with a loud thud. The swordsman straightened, having picked up one of the swords that Sanji had carelessly thrown in his haste to escape. Almost too quickly for Sanji to make sense of, Zoro unsheathed his sword and swung it easily through the cricket before them. The insect fell apart in two neatly sliced pieces and the swordsman carefully returned his sword to its scabbard before the pieces had even hit the ground.
Later, Sanji would blame the fear that still washing through his system for his actions. Zoro turned, his mouth open and what was no doubt going to be a smart aleck remark about Sanji's fear about to tumble from his lips. Before he could speak though, Sanji threw his arms around the swordsman's neck and buried his face into the skin there.
"Cook?" Zoro questioned uncertainly. "Are you okay?" He lightly rested a hand on Sanji's back, completely taken aback by the cook's actions. "You're shaking," He remarked with surprise.
"I h-hate bugs," Sanji stuttered out, clinging tighter to the man before him.
Zoro almost wanted to laugh, but that seemed inappropriate for the situation. Everyone was entitled to have a fear he supposed. Instead of laughing, he held the cook a little closer and nuzzled the fine golden strands of his hair. He had to remind his rapidly beating heart that this was Sanji's reaction to fear and not a response to his own feelings. While they were in this position though, he'd allow himself just a moment of indulgence.
After a several minutes, Sanji's shaking stopped and his breathing returned to normal, but he didn't move for a moment out of sheer embarrassment. What was he doing clinging to Zoro like a starving man clung to food? Not to mention he was sure to hear about it from Zoro, having such a stupid fear of bugs. With a final deep breath he resigned himself to the embarrassing aftermath of his actions and pulled away from the swordsman.
Zoro released him easily, but Sanji was far too embarrassed to make eye contact or strike up a conversation with the marimo. Instead his eyes scanned the ground, searching for anything that would take his attention off the whole incident.
Something like the hilt of a sword.
"Oh shit!" Sanji cursed, dipping down and picking up the sword he'd carelessly discarded. A few feet away laid another and Sanji scrambled to pick it up too. "Shit, shit," He repeated. He gave them both a quick once over. They seemed relatively unharmed, but he couldn't help but feel absolutely terrible for dropping them in the first place. "Shit, Zoro, I'm so sorry. I panicked. I shouldn't have dropped them bu-"
"Are you okay?" The swordsman asked, cutting him off mid-sentence.
Sanji looked at Zoro for the first time since he'd thrown himself at him. "What? I'm talking about your swords, I'm so sorry I-"
"Forget about the swords," Zoro said seriously, stepping closer and taking both the swords from Sanji's grasp. They joined the third one as he refastened them to his hip. He didn't even look at them; instead he fixed Sanji with a serious look. "I'm asking you if you're okay."
Sanji stared blankly at the swordsman. He'd just thrown this man's most treasured items to the ground and fled. If anyone treated something of Sanji's that way, they'd end up answering to his foot. But Zoro hadn't even so much as inspected the state of his swords before expressing his concern for Sanji. It implied he cared for Sanji's well being at least as much as his swords.
The thought caused a bright flush of color on the cook's face. "I'm fine," He replied quietly. "It just startled me."
Zoro nodded and leaned to pick up the pack he'd taken down with him during his fall. "Come on, I think we have plenty of these. Let's get out of these woods."
The whole return walk (which Sanji led as Zoro conceded that he had no idea how to get back to the Sunny from there) was spent in silence. Sanji waited for the inevitable taunt from the swordsman, but it never came. That made Sanji even more uncomfortable, for surely if Zoro wasn't going to laugh at him now, he'd do it in front of the others for the full embarrassment effect. He'd smoked through half a pack of cigarettes already in order to keep himself calm both from the incident before and from the swordsman's unnerving silence.
They took a short break when they reached the patch of leafy grasses that Sanji had been planning on using in tonight's dinner. Zoro waited patiently, sipping at some water from his canteen, while Sanji gathered the greens. When he had enough to make a satisfactory salad for the crew, he rejoined the swordsman.
Zoro capped his canteen and made to move on, but a tug at his shirt stopped him.
"You can laugh, if you want," Sanji said, jaw jutting defiantly and teeth clenched around his cigarette, but his eyes refused to meet Zoro's. "But I'd rather you didn't run and tell everyone. It's a little embarrassing."
Zoro did want to laugh, but not about the cricket. Truthfully he didn't blame the cook, that thing had been freaky. He wanted to laugh at the fact that despite the fact that the cook had just had a break down about a bug and feared the ridicule he'd get from the rest of the crew, he was still acting as cool as ice. Zoro knew Sanji well enough to know an act when he saw one, but it was still an impressive attempt. Naturally, the love-cook wouldn't allow himself not to look cool for even a moment, especially when his pride was on the line.
"Oi, Cook," Zoro chuckled. He grabbed the cook's chin and forced Sanji to look at him. "Look at me," It was too rough to be an intimate gesture, rather instead he hoped it pissed the cook off.
Sanji's eyes met the swordsman's and sure enough he could see simmering rage underneath the eerie calm the cook displayed. "I'm not going to tell anyone," Zoro said. "Everyone is afraid of something. It's not a bad thing, it just means you have something to get stronger for and overcome." With that said he released the cook and turned to head back to the Sunny.
"What are you afraid of?" Sanji asked behind him.
Zoro shrugged. "Who knows, I'm sure there's something," He replied.
Sanji rolled his eyes; it was typical marimo answer. He watched the moss-head walk on ahead and felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He knew Zoro was a man of his word, and he knew the swordsman wouldn't tell the others. Apparently he was also spared his own personal ridicule from Zoro as well. That made him feel loads lighter and a broad smile worked its way onto his face.
"Hey, Marimo!" He called. Zoro stopped and turned to let Sanji know he was listening.
"You're going the wrong way, the Sunny is that way," Sanji smirked, pointing the in the opposite direction of where Zoro was heading off too.
With a scowl and an unintelligible grumble Zoro turned and headed the direction Sanji was pointing. Sanji laughed and followed, keeping the marimo on course all the way back to the Sunny.
A/N:
Phew. I'm quite pleased with this chapter! I can't even tell you the difficulties I had writing it. Major writer's block descended upon me about a quarter of the way through. I wanted to just rage quit the whole story for a moment (I won't do that, but oh how tempting it was). I made it through though, and I'm relatively happy with the results.
Thank you all so much for the reviews! They are really so, so helpful and encouraging! I've taken quite a few tips from people and I'm learning as I go, so thank you guys for all of the help and smiles you've given me. Your reviews make me so happy to read so by all means keep them coming!
Can you guys tell I have no creativity when it comes to making up monster animals? I mean, a meat-eating squirrel with two tails? Even I think that's a little lame. But squirrels are secretly very evil underneath their cute exteriors.
I feel like there was more I wanted to address...but it's all slipped my mind now. Oh well, I'll conclude my author's note here. Thank you for reading!