One Piece:

That Freeing Feeling


Theme: #48 – Childhood

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Nami (Nakama-ship)

Rating: K+ (Childish behaviour)

Timeline: A/U – Zoro and Nami meeting when they were children


Ah, it felt good peeing outside.

In actuality, Zoro imagined he preferred doing many things in the great outdoors – training, sleeping, and assuredly, taking his late night leak in the woods that surrounded the dojo. He had spent the last few years traveling on his own, training under his own regime, where the mere thought of having a building in which to rest his head or think of as his home was something he would have scoffed at many times along the way. Now, even with sensei taking him in the way he did, the young swordsman-to-be was just as grateful as he was stubborn – if he wanted to pee on a tree, then that was what he'd do, no matter how late it was.

Those damn naps of his were throwing his sleep schedule all over the place.

Hmph, only babies took naps. He trained rigorously – with ropes and stones, with every bamboo-made sword that the dojo possessed – and it made him very tired; falling asleep during odd hours of the day was a sign of weakness! Zoro sometimes hated how easily he could pass out…regardless of how appreciative his body was afterwards.

Kuina never took naps.

A chill ran up the young boy's spine and he instantly readjusted his appearance, finished with his outdoor bathroom break and more than willing to overlook his personal pet peeve of falling asleep if it meant he didn't need to think about his deceased friend again. He knotted the rope around his waist a little too tightly at the thought, stealing some of the wind from his lungs due to the pressure on his stomach. Whenever he thought of her, he would frown, and a hateful feeling would contort his admiration of her. Which only made Zoro hate himself for thinking of her in a way beyond respectful. She was his rival – in some ways, his idol – and now that she was gone, never to return to scold him, challenge him, teach him things he'd never understand, he felt resentful of her leaving him—

Them. Kuina died and left everyone behind.

Even if it was an accident… Though it was a simple, sudden fall down the stairs that had taken the life of the strongest girl he knew, it was the shock of it all that obliterated him, hurt young Zoro more than any bruise or cut he'd ever received, and it lasted much longer than any starvation he'd ever endured when traveling on his own…

If he had remained on his own, he never would have been made to feel grief.

No one would have grieved him if he died, and he'd never have to grieve them.

His life had gotten better just as much as it had worsened, but most of all, Zoro despised the way he blamed his long-gone friend for the way her passing made him feel. Kuina hadn't asked to die – she had greater dreams and aspirations than he'd ever had, again, beyond his ability to comprehend. She was smarter, stronger even though her own father – his sensei – made her feel so weak, and even if she had started off being so mean to him, their relationship became something he built his new perspective upon. Whether it be his view on life or solely his dream, it was unmistakeable how great a force Kuina had been for him.

Then why was he so angry?

As if someone in the dojo chose then to emulate his feelings, one of his older classmates screamed from inside the building. Zoro whipped his head around, then remained still. He was stunned, frozen, as the lights of the school were lit, glowing through the trees that shielded him in his hiding place. For a moment, he was much more concerned with being caught outside after hours; sensei would scold him, and punish him in some stupid, creative way if he was caught!

But when he saw someone rush past him – someone small, closer to his height – something snapped awake inside of him. There was an intruder… Someone as young as he had broken into the dojo!? Why would someone do that—unless they tried to kill someone, or steal something! And now, the mysterious invader was running for his or her life. The person had rushed past him without even acknowledging him, even though he could have captured the little thief! Perhaps Zoro was hidden well behind the trees…or the burglar hadn't viewed him as any sort of threat. How dare they!

Well, two birds with one stone: if he caught the intruder, he'd avoid being punished for being outside and then the older students would have to respect him for being better than them.

So, with swift feet did Zoro race off into the woods. He used his senses to differentiate between the scurrying of critters and the only other human amongst the trees during this peculiar night. The padding he heard from a few feet ahead sounded inexperienced – uncertain in the steps he or she was taking – and he smirked at the easy kill he was going to make. That is, until he realized that he was without any sort of weaponry…

Perhaps peeing in the woods was a more troublesome habit than napping.

The river in which he sometimes trained was past the bushes that blocked his past, and just beyond them did he hear the sound of a loud thud, slightly overtaken by a pitiful splash. Bravely, Zoro leapt through the small thicket and landed ankle-deep in the weak rapids. Once he reclaimed his balance, he shot an accusatory finger at the helpless, hopeless invader!

"Stop right there!" He did exclaim, however, his momentum slightly dissipated when he saw who he was yelling at: a little redheaded girl, wincing and crouched over herself in the river. Her back faced him in her simple yellow dress, but there were smears and stains of dirt and blood all over the meager piece of clothing she wore. When she wobbled, Zoro had half a mind to head to her side and assist her, however, she whirled around and faced him as if she had never before experienced weakness of pain.

The moon was full on this disastrous night and the light it shone down upon the river barely touched the redheaded girl; it was as if she was just out of its reach, the trees refusing to give way, the reflection upon the waters hardly reaching the hollowness of her brown eyes. She was panting, but did so with her mouth closed to appear angry rather than tired. Her voice, too, gave the illusion of strength as she whispered aggressively, "Would you shut up!? Why did you even follow me? What are you, a stalker?"

Her harshness made Zoro take a step back quickly, before he even knew he did such a thing. How could she sound so upset, when she was the one who broke into the dojo? She was the one who invaded his school of a home in the middle of the night and then raced off in a poor attempt to flee the crime scene! The way she looked made him think that this wasn't her first break-in either; no matter how poor he had been, nothing had ever forced him to steal or disrupt the lives of other people. He had been honourable – respectful – even if it had never been taught to him! This girl…

"I'm not a stalker!" He stomped himself forward, reclaiming the land he had lost in his first reaction to her taunting, all while yelling, "I came after you because you broke into my school! You can't just do that and get away with it!"

"Hmph, says some stupid kid. It's not like you own it or anything." The redheaded girl crossed her arms, dismissing his display of chivalry toward his dual-purpose home. Her impatience was seen in the way she glanced behind him often, and yet, she never took off into the woods at her back; something inside of the troublemaking kid made her stay and hear what Zoro had to say, regardless of her worry of whatever she imagined to be at his back. Whatever respect for her, though, was trumped by the anger her words made him feel.

Growling now like an enraged wolf pup or bear cub or any feral young beast, Zoro snapped, "It doesn't have to belong to me to be my school! I go there, and stole from it, didn't you? Give us back whatever you took, right now!" No matter how angry he was, it was obvious to the swordsman-in-training that this little girl had no combative ability. On top of that, her concern for her possible capture that he saw sparkling in her eyes seemed as though she understood what it meant to feel guilt for her behaviour; he immediately surmised that it would have been impossible for her to have murdered anyone, as he originally thought. No, she was a little thief, and she must have tried to steal from one of his classmates.

As much as he would have been a part of a scheme that toyed with the older swordsmen who thought they were better than him, joining forces with a burglar would most likely be a very poor decision.

And just as he entertained being privy to her ploy, the little girl snorted at him, saying, "Took? There wasn't anything good worth taking in there. I didn't do anythingbad, so leave me alone already!" Her anxiety was becoming more evident as she sounded so very distraught, having to face his interrogation. When she threw her arms down into tiny fists and stomped enough to splash some droplets along her lower leg, the intruder seemed more like a stubborn orphan than a little thief.

He recognized his own old self when it was reflected in the angry way she carried herself.

He had been mad when she insulted him so, but it wasn't the same way he used to feel anger a mere year ago. When he had been on his own – made to feel as if every challenge he faced was testing his ability to live another day – the constant rage that fueled him only seemed to make him stronger. Now, after studying under sensei and…after sharing those meager days with Kuina, he knew that that falsified anger was just a defence he used when he couldn't solve every problem with his swords.

Looking her over, he confirmed his belief: the redheaded girl didn't carry a weapon.

All she had was anger to protect herself with.

Seeing someone behave the way he had not too long ago felt like such a rude awakening for him: if Zoro had never come to challenge the dojo, he would be just like the little girl before him. Alone, aching, absolutely terrified of people who didn't understand what it was like to live on the edge of nothing, grasping at anything that felt like something. She must have realized how risky it was to choose the life of a thief – unless she had no choice at all, and was forced to risk the consequence daily. The something in which she grasped at was material possession in which to survive, which was a fate he had been too prideful to enact himself.

What sort of life was this little redheaded girl living?

When Zoro's eyes swooped over the scraps on her knees once again, he heard the distinct sound of the voices of his classmates, with sensei's softly dictating instructions beneath them. His concern for her safety almost shone through his eyes when he lifted them to meet hers, but he dared not show her any weakness after she had so effortless shown him the relentlessness of that wicked tongue of hers. Quickly, he informed her, "There's no money around here."

"I figured out that much!" The redheaded girl shot back, panic in her tone, shaking her voice as she whispered. In an attempt to barter after all the cruel things she had said, the little girl pleaded, "So, there; you know I couldn't have taken anything, meaning I can go now, right?" – when he didn't respond fast enough to her liking, her anger bled into her plea – "Come on! Don't be so mean!" Again, she was stomping and shaking her fists at him from across the river.

Some voice inside of him told him she would be fine. As much as he felt natural concern for her injuries and wished he was quick enough to think of a way to help her, there wasn't time to offer her much assistance. With the men of the dojo rushing into the woods to find her, the redheaded girl had only a handful of seconds to escape their grasps. Even though he believed that she really had done nothing to warrant being captured, Zoro could not guarantee how the less disciplined men would react to knowing they were awoken from their beds by a little girl.

Kuina had taught him that girls – big or small – were strong enough to handle themselves, and that was something that had stayed with him, as if that had been his deceased friend's imparting wisdom to him before she left this world.

Though he frowned as he pointed, Zoro revealed, "If you go through that pass over there, you should be safe. That's the way to the next town – they won't chase you there."

"What?" The redheaded girl asked immediately.

"They're not gonna go that far to catch you! So run away, already! Man—"

"Are you trying to kill me, or something? That's the way to a cliff!"

For one single instance, the night went silent, amplifying Zoro's blatant, burning embarrassment. His foolish try at helping her had resulted in her accusing him of attempted murder! As if this entire evening wasn't backwards and crazy enough, he couldn't even provide her with proper directions to escape.

However, when sandaled feet were heard within charging distance, there was not an instance more between them. The redheaded girl spun on her heel and ran off through the trees behind her. It was as if she knew which direction she had been traveling in all along, long before she fell in the river and was made to suffer to his questionable mercy. Just before she passed through the trees, though, did she wave at him once, almost like a belated show of gratitude.

In some ways, the little redheaded girl had been comparable to Kuina – strong, brave, immovable, yet nervous at time. In others, she had failed to match up – unruly, insulting, thieving, yet fell prey to him all too easily. Whatever her reasons for choosing such a dangerous life, Zoro admired her determination to persevere beyond her wounds, physical or otherwise. That was much like Kuina, and admittedly, much like himself. Perhaps he let her escape more so for a selfish reason: for the similarities in make of the crosses they both had been made to bear.

Something about her had felt familiar, and it was because of her unknown plight that he wished her well. Zoro could not know if they would ever meet again, but given how much he himself had managed to change in a year under the guidance of someone who cared for him, he would be more than intrigued to see what became of the little redheaded girl in the future. Her spunk, he decided, must have been her primary weapon all along.

That, or her unspoken way in helping him assuage some of the anger he had been housing towards his dear friend Kuina.

Either way, he nodded in the direction in which she had departed, as if to belatedly thank her for her arbitrary help.

"Zoro!?" A voice shrieked behind him.

"What? He's here?"

"What the hell—"

"Zoro," sensei beckoned, parting the small gathering of his bewildered students as he approached his youngest student. Zoro, in turn, spun to face him immediately, "what are you doing out here? At such a late hour, no less."

"Uh," that was when the panic set in. He needed to concoct some sort of excuse for his own behaviour without revealing the direction in which the intruder had escaped! He was proud to be her distraction, but he hadn't thought so far as to how he was supposed to behave as one! And so, with a lack of sensibility and creativity in his mind, Zoro meagrely mumbled, "I had to pee."


Author's Notes:

Someone requested this story when I had already thought of this interaction between them over the last few years. It doesn't exactly match the picture referenced in the suggested review…but I hope it was enjoyable nonetheless!

(Maybe it matched in an emotional sense?! …Maaaybe not.)

I know Zoro's flashbacks in the series made it seem as though he was determined to move on after Kuina's death, but for a child who had nothing before coming to the dojo, I figured he needed to experience some deeper sense of grief. Plus, I imagined that discussing Kuina with her father might not have been something he was willing to do, given that he wasn't too on-board with her dream. Nami and Kuina are similar, but given that only one of them got to grow up, we'll never know how much they'd resemble one another.

And no, even Zoro has told Tashigi that she is nothing like Kuina, so that would not be a fair representation.

Thank you for reading!

P.S. I know, the last two have been more friendship stories than romantic…blame Oda-sensei and the never-ending Dressrosa arc.