The corners of her mouth pointed down as she silently regarded him. His gaze weighed heavily on hers. Seconds ticked by without either of them moving. The air shifted in the narrow hallway, ensnaring them both in a suffocating grasp.

"I, uh…" she started, but trailed off as she didn't know how to go on. Truth be told, she knew nothing about him. She sucked her lower lip in between her teeth and averted her gaze. Her mind raced, desperately trying to grasp the situation she found herself in.

"Where am I?"

She snapped her gaze back to regard him. He fingered the hilt of his sword, brushing his thumb over the clothed handle. The grip around her kunai tightened in return underneath her cloak.

"Drum Island," she told him warily. "I found you in the snow. You were badly injured, so I brought you here to patch you up."

"Why?" the tip of his sword grazed the wooden floor when he lowered it another two inches.

Her eyes narrowed as she formulated a reply in her mind. She didn't know why. He had been hurt and the medic in her had taken over. It was in her nature. It was what she had been trained to do.

"I'm-…" she started and slowly slid the kunai back into the knife holster around her thigh. "I'm currently training to become a doctor."

"A doctor?" he questioned while a slender eyebrow arched ever so slightly in disbelief.

"…yes."

"How long?"

Pink brows furrowed as she tilted her head in confusion. "What?"

"How long was I out?"

"Two- almost three days."

His eyes closed momentarily while he gripped the katana tighter before a coughing fit racked his frame. His fist clenched as he steadied himself against the wall.

Sakura took two steps forward before coming to an abrupt halt. The blade glinted as he pointed it toward her while trying to regain control over his body. Her hands rose in defeat, palms facing his way.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she spoke quietly, with a hint of uncertainty lacing her words.

Wary orbs regarded him while one dark eye watched her in return, silently assessing the truth behind her words. Suspicion radiated from him, but he lowered the katana anyway and felt her presence closing in.

Her heart thumped in her chest as she took an unsure step forward. A breath she didn't know she'd been holding escaped her lips. Another step forward had her eyes widening in alarm. Paper rustled as she ungracefully stumbled over the forgotten grocery bag and lost her footing. 'So much for being a ninja,' she thought, eyes closing of their own accord as she readied herself for the harsh impact, but it never came. Instead she felt an arm snake around her waist midair before her cheek mushed against warm skin.

Quickened heartbeats thumped against her ear. Her cheeks burned as she fisted the damp fabric of her cloak in one hand, thankful he'd at least had the decency to put on his pants before she had shown up. His breaths fanned over her cheek, yet she couldn't get herself to move, and neither did he. Entrapped in his embrace, she found herself wishing the ground would open up and swallow her.

He said nothing as her frame weighed against him. The katana pointed toward the opposite wall, the metal glinted in the weakening flames from the other room. He traced the blade with his gaze while questioning the reason behind his move. He could have let her fall, but he didn't. Why? He didn't know.

Two dark eyes peered down at her, watching her features while his head pounded against the bandages she had sloppily wrapped around his head. The blush spreading over her cheeks told him more than he needed to know.

"Oi," he heard himself say hoarsely and watched as she stirred against his chest. Pink strands clung to her cheek. Dark lashes revealed her emerald irises shamelessly trailing over his naked skin before meeting his glare dead on. He felt his brow twitch in annoyance at her lack of tactic.

A silent "Fuck," escaped the pinkette as she scrambled back to her feet. The pink in her cheeks darkened to a deep crimson at getting caught red-handedly ogling him. He felt the corner of his lips tug into a scorn as he watched her silently hang her cloak up to dry. The paper bag rustled as she picked it up and sauntered away with an annoying sway to her hips.

"Tch," she hadn't even been there for more than a couple of minutes, and she already got on his nerves. With a slight nod, he concluded he definitely should have let her fall.

He heard her bustling around in the kitchen as he rounded the corner and entered the living room. The tip of the katana scraped against the floor when he balanced it against the wall near the fireplace. It wobbled back and forth before stilling completely, mimicking the dizziness he felt himself but tried to mask. Calloused hands rubbed up and down his arms while he peered at the other two swords near the futon he had awoken on. A dark stain had seeped into the floorboards near them. From the looks of it, it was most likely blood.

"Quite the arsenal for a doctor," he commented and saw a flash of pink peer out from the kitchenette.

She tilted her head in question and followed his nod toward the katanas. "Oh! They're not mine."

A slender brow rose as he regarded her. He slowly lowered himself to sit cross-legged in front of the fireplace and opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted, as if sensing his disbelief.

"They're yours," she started. "I mean, you had them on you when I found you, so I assumed they were," she added. "Yours, that is."

Dark brows furrowed. 'Mine?' He shot the weapons another glance while quietly mulling over her words. Who was he really? A swordsman? A killer? A Pirate? An ominous presence lingered around one of the blades, asking -no, demanding to be covered in thick, liquidly blood. With a shake of his head, he returned his attention to the fire. Heat was gradually seeping into his chilled frame. The white katana came into view where it rested near the burning wood. It had felt oddly familiar. Something had sprung to life when he had traced his fingers over the hilt. He watched it in silence, mesmerized by the different energies his swords seem to radiate.

The pinkette returned from the kitchen moments later. He hadn't even noticed her absence.

"I got you this," she began, and handed him what appeared to be clothes, while sinking onto her knees in front of him. "I had to-… Your shirt was-…" she trailed off and lowered herself onto her calves.

An understanding nod was all he could give as he fingered the fabric before pulling the shirt over his head, accidentally sliding the loose bandages further down his head in the process. Sea-green irises glanced at the off-white wrappings before reaching over to fix them.

A yelp escaped the pinkette when long, calloused fingers wrapped themselves around her wrist. The iron grip forced her arm to bend by the elbow until it was pinned against her back while he circled her throat with his other hand and pulled her up onto her knees. The floorboards creaked agonizingly underneath her.

Emerald widened a fraction before settling in an irritated stare. Her pulse raged alarmingly in her temples, yet she willed herself to calm down when the grasp around her throat never tightened. Her arm ached as he kept it locked in a firm grip and brought her closer.

His breath fanned over her cheek as he held her in place. Jasmine and vanilla lingered in the air. A light speck of freckles, almost imperceptible to the naked eye, adorned the fair skin of her nose. He cocked his head to the side, silently watching her calm reaction with utter fascination. Despite her cool external demeanor, the contradiction behind her mask was betrayed by the raging pulse against the palm of his hand.

"You shouldn't let your guard down so easily, Sakura," he cooed, fingers tightening ever so slightly against her throat in a warning. "It might get you killed."

"I'm not afraid of you," she retorted just above a whisper while narrowing her eyes. Her chest pressed against his. Her heart hammered against her ribcage while his body-heat seeped into her front, all the while his grip around her wrist scorched her to the bone.

The tip of his nose brushed against her cheek as he inched his face ever so slightly to the side. The hairs on her arms peaked in the electric atmosphere as time seemed to freeze. An inkling of a spark glinted in his dark, almost black orbs as she refused to back down, refused to surrender.

A wicked grin spread over his lips, teeth glimmering in the half-obscured flames peeking out from behind her frame. "And why is that?"

The fire behind her cast a soft glow over her pink tresses. The tips of her hair danced lazily across his wrist as he tightened his hold and heard a suppressed whimper spill from her lips. The sound sent a jolt of electricity down his spine, which he was quick to ignore. Dark lashes lowered themselves, shielding him from her view while she took another calming breath. A slender, feminine hand slowly pulled at the bandages. The sheer woven fabric pooled in his lap as the knot loosened and came undone. Emerald opened again to regard him, eyes full of understanding and determination while she sized him up.

"Because to me, you're nothing but a clawless kitten trying to roar."

"Tch,"

Her frame wobbled forward as he released her. Dark eyes narrowed as she steadied herself against his shoulder. His earrings jingled from the sudden impact, yet he did nothing to push her away. Lightheaded and with an increasing pounding in his skull, he quietly waited for her to move. A shaky breath left the pinkette when she finally lowered herself back onto her legs and got up on her feet. He saw her retreat back into the kitchen from the corner of his eye. A grim line clad his lips as her words echoed in his head. 'Clawless kitten… I'll show you what a demon I can be.'

Pink bangs shielded her vision as she let her head hang. Trembling fingers gripped onto the sink as another shaky breath squeezed past her lips. A quivering hand found its way to the faucet. The tap squeaked agonizingly when she finally mustered enough strength to turn it while her unfocused gaze was set on the drain.

Blood rang in her ears as she forced a deep breath and swallowed thickly. The feeling of his hand lingered like a permanent tattoo around her throat, squeezing the air from her lungs and making her knees weak.

"Get a grip, Sakura," she whispered and closed her eyes. Air entered her lungs as she took another calming breath. "He can't hurt you."

Glasses clattered against one another when she shakily reached for one. A hand went through her hair while she psyched herself up. The icy liquid streamed down her throat as she gulped it down and set the glass on the counter with a clink. 'You can do this.'

The swordsman was seated cross-legged on the futon when she re-entered the living room. A red sheath rested against his thigh. Sakura leaned against the door-frame and watched him as he flipped the sword from one side to the other before running a finger over the sharp and slightly curved blade. He was examining it closely, almost as if memorizing every detail of it. The blade stretched toward the fireplace. Dark chocolaty eyes followed the wavy pattern adorning the slightly bent steel before he skillfully swung it and tested it's weight.

"How are you feeling?" she asked quietly, completely mesmerized by how he was handling the blade.

"Tch,"

Fists clenched and unclenched at his lack of response.'Inhale… exhale…' she told herself.

"That's a nice-looking sword," she complimented and reluctantly made her way across the room. One wrong move and he would strike, she had no doubt about that.

"It's cursed," he retorted without taking his eyes off of the blade.

"Oh?" she questioned and crouched down next to him, but he didn't elaborate. Silence stretched between them. A sweaty palm fingered the fabric of the comforter while her heartbeats increased in speed. "What's the last thing you remember?" she quietly asked and saw him still his movements momentarily through her peripheral vision.

"What is it to you?" he drawled with a grim expression.

Sakura ignored his hostile tone, tilted her head to the side and propped her chin in her palm. "I'm trying to figure out how severe your head-injury is." she confessed and felt her senses spike alarmingly when the mattress dipped slightly. Emerald glanced at his frame while she readied herself to grab the kunai from its holster on her thigh if he were to make a move. They softened, however, when she saw him facing her; his back rested against the wall while he sheathed the katana and shut his eyes.

"My head is fine," he grunted, hands resting possessively over the red sheath. A click was heard as he unclicked the blade with his thumb, only to click it back into place a breath later.

Sakura suppressed a sigh. "I know you're hurting, an-," she felt her eyebrow twitch in irritation at the yawn he addressed her with before shooting her an irritated glare with one eye. "And as your doctor I will need you to be honest," she continued and climbed onto the futon. "Otherwise I won't be able to help."

"I don't need a doctor,"

"Tch, you are aware you could have died, right?"

"Who knows,"

Chakra flared to her trembling fist while she glared at the ignorant asshole less than four feet from her. Remaining civilized in his awakened presence was once again proving to be nearly impossible.

"I know," she seethed through gritted teeth only to hear the blade click again.

Her eyes fell on the weapon and then on his face. Droplets of sweat covered his temples. Damp, green strands clung to the skin of the back of his neck. Unable to suppress another sigh, she mustered up every ounce of courage she had and crawled up to the swordsman.

He regarded her lazily with one eye. Calloused fingers gripped the hilt of the katana as she accidentally bumped her knee against his thigh. A cool hand draped itself over his damp forehead. He suppressed a groan of contentment at the welcoming chill she offered and shut his eyes. The sword clicked into the sheath again while he heard her 'tsk' displeasedly from his side.

"You're burning up," she murmured. Cold fingers covered the nape of his neck as he felt her angle his head.

A swift sideway glance at the pinkette made him swallow down a snidey remark. He knew that look. Desperation. His eyes shut of their own when her fingers raked through the green locks at the back of his head. Delightful tingles spread throughout his scalp, a sensation he realized he preferred far more over the constant pulsating throb which seemed to worsen whenever he moved. Gentle fingertips moved in the smallest of circles as she worked her skilled digits toward the crown of his head. His temples buzzed joyfully while his jaw opened as her ministrations loosened up tense muscles he didn't even know he had.

"What's the last thing you remember?" he heard her ask over the glittering sensation which seemed to take over each and every one of his senses.

Blurry images flashed before his closed eyes in a jumbled mess. Faceless people, water, darkness and snow.

"I don't know," he answered lazily and felt her fingers tread closer to the part of his head which hurt the most. Waves, laughter and a straw hat flashed by. "A hat,"

"What kind of hat?" she asked softly.

A hiss escaped him while he felt his face constrict as she came into contact with his bruise and accidentally tugged at his hair.

"Sorry," it was almost inaudibly, but he heard her. "There's dried blood and-" she trailed off while humming quietly in thought.

Another tug had him yank her hand away.

"Oi," he growled and watched her lips form a straight thin line while she snatched her wrist free from his grip. "Are you trying to fix this fucking pounding or make it worse? Shitty doctor."

Her hand flew to his green tresses in a flash, fingers digging into the unkempt hair in a steady grip while she aligned the side of her kunai against his throat. Emerald darkened as she stared him down while pressing her weight onto the sheath against his thighs with her knee.

"Don't," she warned and tugged at his tousled hair.

"Tch," he couldn't help but smirk as she forced his head back against the wall while her knife followed the movement. One dark brow arched as he met her stare while his hand loosened around the hilt of his half-sheathed katana. A silent challenge glinted in his eyes. Her complete change of character was fascinating and he found himself wondering how far he could push it- push her. He watched her lips purse in annoyance before she blew at her bangs. The pink strands flowed upwards momentarily before falling against the side of her cheek; framing her heart-shaped face while the shorter parts almost fell in her eyes.

"Let's make one thing clear," she declared. "I am the doctor here. You are the patient. If I tell you to do something- you do it."

He felt his eyes narrowing at her words and opened his mouth to argue.

"Ah-ah," she warned while adding pressure with the kunai and sank more onto the katana on his lap. "Will you let me fix this shit or are you planning to continue to whine like a little bitch?" 'Shannaro!' her inner roared while throwing both fists in the air.

She felt her heart race at the dark look he sent her as she uttered the last of her sentence. Pink lips opened involuntarily to let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. The kunai rested in her clammy hands, threatening to shake against his throat at any second. He could have maneuvered her in multiple ways if he had wanted to, she knew that. There were too many openings. 'What the hell am I doing?!' she found herself asking while trying to keep her composure. A shiver ran down her spine when he brushed a hand over the inside of her thigh and brought it up to circle his fingers around her wrist. She froze; emerald widened a fraction when she realized it had been trapped in between her legs since she had first made her move. Inner Sakura squealed with glee.

He pried her hand away and masked the pain from pulling some of his hair out before she let go of it completely. Her hand fell limp in his grip while she simultaneously lowered the weapon held against his throat. He saw the flicker of fear in her eyes which was quickly hidden behind a barrier of steel.

His fist gripped onto the hilt of his katana and forced it in despite her weight on the sheath. A surge of annoyance washed over him at her sudden lack of fighting-spirit.

"Whatever," he muttered and let go of her wrist. It fell to her side like a dead fish.

She bit the inside of her cheek and lowered herself halfway against his knee while pocketing the kunai back in its holster. There was no need to use it. She had won.

"Could you pass me the med-kit?" she inquired in an authoritative tone and heard him 'tsk' in annoyance before reaching an arm out to fetch what she had requested from the floor.

She rummaged through the small bag before shifting her position and started dabbing at his head-wound. The scent of anesthetics reached his nose.

"I think the hit to your head caused an inner bleeding," she stated while dabbing and pulling at the clumped together strands of hair. "I also think the fever is slowing down the healing-process,"

"You think a lot," he retorted sarcastically and winced as she pulled at his hair yet again.

"At least I use my brain, unlike someone I know,"

His lips fell into a frown. "Perhaps they'd be able to use their brain if you didn't keep pulling at their haah-…" he shot her a glare as his head was pulled towards the wall yet again.

Sakura shot him a short-lived fake smile and continued with her work, pleased to have shut him up once again. He was so much easier to work on when he was quiet. A few moments of silence passed. She flung a bloodied cotton ball onto the floor and leaned back against his knee again while pushing her bangs back, only to have them drape straight back over her face. Teeth chewed on her lower lip while she narrowed her eyes in contemplation.

"What now?" she heard him ask exasperatedly, unbeknown he had been watching her.

"What kind of a hat do you remember?" she asked quietly and brought out a new roll of bandages from the first-aid kit.

Arched brows furrowed as he tried to recall the fleeting memories from before. He stayed quiet for a moment and felt her skillfully wrap the sheer gauze around his head. A blurry image of a round, yellow hat projected against his closed eyelids, but fleeted away as quickly as it had appeared.

"I don't know," he yawned and wiped a tear from his eye. "Round, yellow…" another yawn forced itself out.

Sakura glanced at the swordsman while her hand glowed a soft green. She combed her fingers through his hair, hoping it would be enough to distract him from the healing chakra currently penetrating his skull. The fever was a problem. She had no choice but to try to get it out of his system. An unsettling feeling of doubt weighed heavily in the pit of her stomach. Had she been wrong in letting him deal with it on his own? When a third yawn broke through, she saw his shoulders starting to sag. Deep, calm breaths escaped the swordsman. His head rested against her chakra covered palm while she lazily massaged his scalp with her other hand. The corner of her mouth tugged into a breath of a smile while she shook her head in disbelief. 'So the big, bad, broody swordsman has a weakness,' she gushed while inner Sakura popped up; laying on her stomach, swinging her feet back and forth while watching the exchange through Sakura's eyes.

'He's kinda cute when he sleeps,' her inner chirped.

Sakura snorted. 'He's an ass,'

'He has a fine ass,' her inner wiggled her eyebrows.

"I am not going there again," Sakura muttered and shoved her inner to the back of her head.

Cold fingers splayed over the swordsman's forehead while the flow of her chakra subsided. The fever was slowly leaving his system. Pleased with her work for the time being, she carefully removed herself from his side and placed the katana on the floor next to him. Her stomach growled loudly while her surroundings spun. She had used up too much chakra yet again. A deep sigh left her lips as she made her way to kitchen. She needed food, and so did he.

The refrigerator door was pulled open while she scanned the groceries she had gotten from town. She left the door wide-open while contemplating the best solution before settling on the easiest option: soup. Slender fingers grasped onto the ingredients she needed. The refrigerator door rattled as it slammed shut. She glanced at the swordsman and let out a breath of relief when realizing the noise hadn't disturbed his rest. A subconscious hand brushed her bangs away from her forehead before she started chopping the ingredients. Pink strands fell into her eyes, but she ignored them and focused on the task nonetheless.

The green haired swordsman shifted in his sleep; snuggling into the plush pillow while the muted sounds from the kitchen and the mixture of aromas triggered something in his subconscious.

The sounds of cannons rung in his ears as he desperately tried to cling onto the slippery ice. The water was freezing cold and as he tried to keep his and his captain's heads above the violent waves, his lungs stung from the lack of oxygen he had exposed them to. He had no idea where they had come from. The marines had never been this skilled at sneaking up on them before.

Another wave crashed down on them and he felt his only form of security slip from his grasp as the waves sent them further in toward land.

"ZORO!" a voice yelled from afar, but he could not make out which direction it came from.

A lifeless body swept by, before another wave dragged the body into the depths of the ice-cold ocean.

"ZORO!" he heard again while the sound of a rifle echoed in between the cliffs.

He began to swim. His arm pushed through the water as he tried to ride with the waves and managed to get onto icy grounds and climbed up with the unconscious body under his arm. They were too many. He swung his swords in an attempt to free the way for himself and his captain, skidding along the frozen floes before black pants surged through the air with a roar.

"Shitty marimo, don't leave them half dead," reached his ears. The ground crackled beneath his feet while he flung the limp body to the side.

A down current sucked him underwater. Panic coursed through his cold body as he fought against it, kicking and trying his hardest to reach the surface again when an arm suddenly grasped his shoulder.

"Greenie!" he heard a muffled voice call. "Wake up."

The grip on his shoulder tightened as he felt himself being shaken. Dark eyes flew open and met worried, green orbs.

"Are you okay?" Sakura asked as she leaned over him.

His heart raged in his chest while he tried to sit up but failed miserably. The pinkette hurried to assist. A glass of water was offered when he was finally in a seated position.

"Are you okay?" she repeated and watched him as he downed the cool liquid.

A surge of panic racked through his frame. Dark eyes darted around the room, scanning the area for any potential threats until they landed on the woman seated on the floor next to him. A distressed sigh escaped him while he brought a hand to his hair. Calloused fingers gripped at the sweaty strands.

"What happened?" she asked and pried the glass from his iron grip. She seated herself on the edge of the futon, near his knees.

Pinching the bridge of his nose to still the pounding in his head, he then shook his head slightly in an attempt to clear his mind. "There was water. Lots of it. And cannons,"

She regarded him quietly, giving him time to collect his thoughts while her mind wandered to the night she had found him.

"And someone was yelling."

"What were they yelling?" she asked softly.

His hands dropped to his lap while he closed his eyes in concentration and leaned the back of his head against the wall with a sigh. "I don't know… Greenie?"

She couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips. Dark orbs regarded her.

"That was probably me," she retorted sheepishly.

"Tch," he huffed humorlessly.

Silence stretched between them. Sakura fiddled with her fingers while biting down on her lip. His dream had most likely been a memory, given the circumstances. Was he well enough to explore that route further or had his mind shut the traumatic situation out in order to protect him? She absentmindedly scratched her wrist, unbeknown of the pair of dark eyes observing her. Perhaps she needed to wait with her questions until he had gotten better. She nodded her head in approval. Waiting was probably for the best. Movement to her right brought her out of her musings just in time to hear the swordsman's stomach growl.

"O-oh!" she got up on her feet and hurried into the kitchen only to exit it moments later with a steaming bowl of soup. "Please eat,"

Dark eyes peered into the bowl of unevenly chopped pieces of vegetables swimming in a yellowish broth.

"Is it edible?"

Sakura huffed and pursed her lips together.

"Poisoned?"

"Just eat it," she muttered and went to the bathroom. "It's also getting late, so I suggest you try to get some more sleep,"

"I'd rather not," he grumbled darkly while sipping on the broth.

Sakura re-entered the living room wearing a pair of dark joggers which pooled at her feet, along with a sheer long sleeved top. She crouched by the fire and added more wood to last them through the night.

The futon creaked behind her when the swordsman shifted from his seated position. A content sigh escaped him while he made himself comfortable. She sent him a glance and was met with the view of his back. A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. At least he had the decency to do as he was told for once. She picked up his empty bowl and headed back into the kitchen to leave it in the sink and refilled his glass in case he would get thirsty during the night.

A yawn broke through her lips. Naked feet skidded into the hallway before soundlessly making their way back into the living room. Her cloak was spread out on the floor by the futon before she pulled at the extra blanket messily thrown by his feet. She heard the bed creak again while the swordsman shifted position. The grey wool covered her exhausted frame while another yawn escaped her before she closed her eyes.

"What are you doing?" the swordsman asked grumpily from where he was laying. One eye peered at her through his dark eyelashes while the other one was covered by the fluffy pillow he currently had his head on.

"I'm trying to sleep and you're interfering," she answered in a tired voice.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance and patted the spot next to him. "Come," he ordered.

Sakura raised a slender brow in suspicion.

"What use are you to me if you're not getting enough sleep?" he questioned and patted the same spot once again.

"I'll be fine," she muttered and closed her eyes again.

"Witch," she heard him curse under his breath before the bed creaked again as he moved to a more comfortable position.

Or so she thought anyway, until a pair of arms lifted her up and carried her to the futon.

"What the hell?! Are you insane?" she exclaimed in horror as her rear made contact with the soft mattress.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and gritted his teeth while trying to stop the world from spinning. "Just go to bed, woman," he growled and slowly eased his way back down.

Huffing in annoyance, Sakura laid down as well. He did have a point regarding her current sleep-deprived state, but this was against all doctor/patient rules.

"Keep your hands to yourself," she muttered and turned her back to the swordsman.

"Just go to sleep, Sakura,"

"Idiot,"

"…Witch,"

Around three hours later, Sakura woke up to the male beside her groaning in agony. Turning to face him, she saw him furrowing his brows in pain while he thrashed his head from left to right.

"Shit," she muttered and reached out to wake him up when his hand suddenly clasped around her wrist. Squealing in surprise, she tried backing away but was hindered by the wall behind her.

"Zoro," he rasped as he stared at her and slowly loosened the grip around her wrist.

"What?"

"My name… is… Zoro," he whispered before passing out.

"Shit!"