Prepare yourself for a shitty lecture. :)
Sanji ascended the stairs. He was going to give that shitty swordsman the lecture of his life. That marimo hadn't shown his ugly mug in the club for nearly a month! A whole month! If that brute loved fighting so much then why? What was his deal? He came to a stop at the door, and reaffirmed the brass number on it before knocking.
Be polite. Be polite. No need to cause a ruckus.
The door opened, revealing a mildly surprised Zoro in sloppy sleepwear.
"Yo Zo-" Sanji barely started before the door was shut in his face. His smile morphed into a glare.
"Fucking Zoro! Let me in!" He pounded at the door.
"Fuck off!"
"You love fighting! You can't keep denying it like this!" Sanji rattled the locked doorknob.
"I can't."
"If you don't open this door right now, I'll break it down!" He heard scoffs of laughter.
"Try it!"
Oh, well. He asked for it. It's not going to be his fault if the meathead gets kicked out of his apartment. He backed up a good few steps and leapt, swinging his leg enthusiastically and the weak flimsy wood exploded. Splinters flew and embedded itself into the walls. Inside, Zoro was crouched behind the sofa, wearing a face of shock. Sanji dusted off his pants and looked around, taking in his sparse surroundings. Sofas surrounding a coffee table. A tiny television. A sparse kitchen crammed in the corner.
"You live in this shithole?" he drawled, lighting a cigarette.
"Get out! What the fuck are you doing?" Zoro roared, springing to life.
"Make me!" Sanji yelled. "You won't even touch your swords!"
"Fuck you! Don't tell me what to do!"
"Screw you!"
"Don't test me," Zoro spat, clenching his fists.
"Don't test me," Sanji mocked. He grinned, exhaling a breath of smoke.
"Fucking cook!" Zoro shouted, leaping over the couch and drew his fist back.
"Fight me! Shithead!" Sanji shifted his axis of gravity and whipped the back of Zoro's head, sending him crashing into the wall. Zoro growled, rumbling deep in his chest as he pulled his head out of the wall and shook the dust out of his hair. He charged again, swinging his fists. Sanji ducked and kicked, shoving Zoro back as he extended his leg. "You suck. Pick up your swords." He sauntered over to them, cluttered on the floor. "You either get them or I'll kick it out the window." He drew back his leg as he heard no answer. A blur of movement zoomed in front and suddenly he was airborne, flipped.
How, he didn't know. But he knew who. It was Zoro. Finally getting serious. The unsheathing of all swords accompanied his threat.
"I'll cut you down." Chills ran down Sanji's spine. Zoro wasn't called the Demon for nothing. There was something animalistic about him. Something… out of human boundaries, like he was connected to some sort of destructive god. Zoro lunged, far quicker than Sanji had ever seen and the chef was barely able to bring up his leg to counter the attack. He was pushed back, bumping into the wall. He rolled as Zoro swung his sword, a wide slash cutting the wall in half. It collapsed and clouds of dust billowed. Sanji dashed towards the other end of the room, and the swordsman followed. Zoro cut viciously, swords clanging. They exchanged blows, never allowing each other respite.
A few kicks were in. A few cuts made through. More furniture destroyed.
They were pretty damn even. Like always. Heck, if they weren't, it wouldn't be fun.
Sanji paused, wiping blood from his cheek. But he had to win. He had cornered Zoro and wasn't going to let up until Zoro was thoroughly exhausted.
"What are you zoning out for?" Zoro breathed and shoved him backwards, forcing Sanji backwards headfirst into the sofa with his legs dangling in the air. He immediately moved in and jabbed, swords shredding the couch and Sanji brought his legs up and using the momentum, flipped himself backwards onto the coffee table behind him, landing in a crouch. Zoro cut the sofa in half and kicked it, sending it at Sanji. The chef sprung, pushing off the incoming object before proceeding to attack. He caught the flash of a predatory grin. Sanji pushed hard, driving as much force as he could muster into his kick, and Zoro grunted against the force, teetering as neither refused to give ground. They glared at each other. The swordsman sidestepped, leaving Sanji's heavy force against no resistance and the blonde stumbled, barely able to dodge the next barrage of cuts and swings as he turned. They dove at each other like eagles fighting in the air and circled each other like tigers, each taking in their surroundings, where their opponent was tensing, breathing, moving, and the rhythm of each step, blink and breath. Their senses were working overtime. Zoro coiled his arms and launched a flying slash attack, forcing Sanji to take cover behind the kitchen bench. The green haired man moved in, cutting wildly everything on the tabletop and sending showers of fragmented glass and ceramics peppering the ground like rain, slicing and bouncing across every surface they touched. Sanji cursed, shaking the pieces out of his hair before leaping over to the living room space. Zoro moved into his exposed back, sending Sanji stumbling again. Sanji cursed at his throbbing back. The swordsman moved again, forcing the cook backwards, leaping over the shredded couch and standing atop the coffee table. It creaked under his weight. He dropped to his hands, and spun, feet spinning in a vicious cycle. With unforeseen speed, Zoro swarmed over the couch and swept out Sanji's hands from beneath him.
Fuck. That was a first.
Zoro thought he had Sanji trapped, as the blonde lay on the battered coffee table, panting. Zoro moved his blade near Sanji's neck.
"Submi- urgh!" Sanji whipped his leg up, connecting with Zoro's chin. He battered the blades away and launched himself, pushing off against the table, which was finally giving way into two, and stomped into Zoro's chest, using gravity to pin him to the ground. He untangled his legs and placed each foot upon the swordsman's wrist before prying out the third sword between Zoro's teeth.
He looked around the apartment again, cringing slightly at the incorrigible destruction they caused. Sanji sighed. He won but it was not the time to gloat. He came where for one reason- to lecture.
"Look, fucking idiot marimo Zoro," Sanji snarled. "It's fucking okay to be weak sometimes. It's what everyone else is here for. Who gives a fuck about how many scars and bruises you have when you have something on inside that's eating you up! You keep lying to yourself every single day and it's growing. You need to stop! Let this out! Do you trust me? Do you trust me to keep this?" Zoro didn't answer.
He expected for Sanji to hit him or least yell but the chef stopped and titled his head back, blowing a ring of smoke in the air. They paused, watching it fade into the he ceiling. Sanji prized the cigarette out of his lips and stubbed it on the broken table. His hand clenched into a fist.
"This better be fucking worth it," he muttered, turning towards Zoro once again.
He viciously swung his fist.
Sanji only remembered punching once or twice before. To say the least, he sucked but at least he had a little power in his punch.
"Urgh," Zoro groaned. "The fuck Sanji? I thought your hands…"
"They are you idiot!" Sanji yelled, gathering up Zoro's collar and clashing their foreheads.
"I don't fucking understand!" Zoro yelled back. "Why would you do that?"
"You are important!" Sanji screamed. "You're so fucking important to me! I'd be willing to fucking ruin my hands to make sure you're safe! To make sure you're ok!" he took in a deep breath, sagging slightly. "And I can't keep seeing you lie to yourself."
"But-"
"No."
"You don't-"
"Then tell me! Because from what I can see every time some goon holds a sword you fucking light up like a motherfucking beacon! It's so easy to tell you want to fight!"
"I can't!"
"What the fuck do you mean you can't? You're fine! Are you afraid to lose?!" They glared daggers into each other, chests heaving up and down from the constant yelling. Zoro broke the contact, looking off to the far wall. He didn't answer.
"Do you remember the girl in the sword? The voice?" he whispered, the quiet a deafening contrast from the racket previously. Sanji blinked.
"Yeah. Why?"
"She was my best friend. My rival. I made a promise with her that we would become the greatest swordsmen in the world." Sanji could say nothing. He was spellbound, transfixed by the story. "She was … so much better than me, it pissed me off so fucking much and when I lost for the fucking gabillionth time, she started fucking crying and shit because she believed that she couldn't fight because she'd grow up to become weak compared to men! It was such a fucking unbelievable thing to say, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry so I made a bet with her. Fuck gender. Whoever becomes the best swordsman is going to whip the loser's ass." He pinched the bridge of his nose, laughing weakly. "Man, she was such a pain."
"She's gone though."
"Dead. She died from falling down some fucking stairs. Could you believe it?"
"Life is fragile," Sanji murmured. He understood that concept so well. It was so easy to get swept up in unbelievable forces or a stupid accident and end up killed. His hands trembled.
"I broke the promise. I failed her," Zoro muttered through gritted teeth. His hand covered his eyes.
"How?"
"Years ago, I found Mihawk."
"Mihawk?" Sanji frowned. The name sounded vaguely familiar.
"Hawk-eyes," Zoro amended and something in Sanji's head clicked.
"Oh."
"I got absolutely wrecked. He fought off all my swords with a little knife, no longer than your finger. Then he stabbed me right in my chest, and I couldn't step back. I was so fucking shocked, angry, scared and desperate at the same time, I talked some bullshit about choosing death over dishonour but now that I look back on that, I wish he could've actually finished the job. Instead, he cut me in half. It's so fucking humiliating." He released a breath in a long sigh.
"I get it."
"No you don't," Zoro made a move to get up, which Sanji stopped but his eyes flashed angrily. "You're just like everyone else. 'Oh no look, poor Zoro. He's never going to fight again.' You're just like every one of those fuckers who pity the losers."
"I meant it when I said 'I get it', stupid!"
"What would you get? Did you fail a friend's promise like that?"
"You know what? Your friend died by falling down the stairs, imagine how you would feel if you accidentally pushed her and she died! Or that you cut some big ass nerve and she could never hold a sword again! That's what I did to someone! I have to live with knowing that I broke someone's dream and they'll never, ever, ever be the same again! It's even worse when you see them every day and get reminded of what they could have been! You 'broke' your promise but you made every effort to achieve it! I cut off someone's dreams before they even had the fucking chance to do it! So 'what do I get'? I fucking understand that, and worse!" Zoro froze. "You know what?" Sanji's voice trembled. "It's you who doesn't fucking get it," his finger shook as he jabbed the swordsman in the chest. "It's you." This was stupid. He wasn't going to cry, damn it! His eyes welled.
"Don't cry," Zoro said quietly, swiping the tears away. "You're not meant to cry for me."
"I'm not crying for you damn it!" Sanji hiccupped, rubbing viciously at the waterworks. "It's just… fuck… I haven't told that to anyone in a long time." Zoro sighed again.
"Are you going to get off me anytime soon?"
"Fuck you!" Sanji spat, but he got off Zoro and stood, rubbing his eyes with the bottom of his shirt. "Do you have a tissue?"
"Maybe. I don't know."
"Fuck," Sanji groaned.
"Shit cook, I was kidding. Here." Zoro held out a towel. Sanji glared at him.
"It's a towel, you idiot!"
"I know!" Zoro huffed. "It's either that or toilet paper!"
"What kind of primitive ape doesn't even have a box of tissues around the house?" Sanji muttered, rubbing his face with the cloth. "If I get a fucking disease from this, I'll kill you."
"Try it."
"Shut up! You're so fucking annoying!"
"You're the one who barged into my apartment!"
"You sliced everything apart by yourself!"
"You kicked down the door!" They began their insults contest again, voices raising in volume. Sanji laughed, flopping down on the ruined couch.
"You're a fucking idiot, you know that?" he sighed.
"Shut up. Now if you'll fucking excuse me, stupid prince, I'm going to have this apartment cleaned up before I get my ass kicked."
"Work away." Sanji giggled childishly. He could feel the glare of Zoro's eyes on his back.
"You're drunk."