Our Future Wings - Chapter Two: Self-Reflection
"나는 가능해 가슴에 떨림을 품고 더 가늠해
설렘을 가득 안고, we gone lit up"
Translation:
"I can do it, carrying a tremor in my heart, weigh it up more
Holding excitement in my arms we gon' lit up"
When he stepped into his factory, Usopp knew something was very wrong.
The sniper would not say he was a neat freak like their cook, who took the time to stack every dish neatly by size and colour coordinate his clothes after doing the laundry, but he was not a slob like the captain or swordsman, either.
Usopp would claim his cleanliness as "controlled chaos", where even if there were piles of mess, each would be its own category. The heap near the door would be "weapon repair", which was used when he needed to fix his slingshot or Nami's bo staff after each battle. The loose cases, open shells, and unlocked junk box by the steps were "weapon creation", where he would experiment with making new bullets. He had been thinking of making something food-based, inspired when Tama was able to use her dango cheeks to tame Kaido's beast soldiers.
Well, once he immediately stepped foot in something sticky, saw the mismatched blue and yellow footprints on the walls, and heard a threatening hiss, Usopp knew his controlled chaos had been compromised.
He also knew that his room was trespassed by the crew's new guest. By the scary little Zoro.
As if to confirm his fears, he spotted the culprit hiding behind his idea board. Their eyes made contact, and the child let out a more menacing hiss.
He didn't know how to feel about the recent addition to the team, or if he was even staying permanently. Aside from the fact that the gremlin nearly bit his hand off.
All he knew was that Sanji was hellbent on taking care of the kid, while Zoro wasn't comfortable with the arrangements. Everything related to S-Hunter would be brought up to the cook.
He trusted their captain's judgement, who although brought them to insane situations, they were still alive in one piece in the end, right?
Usopp's first instinct was to scream for help, but that wouldn't do. He had faced Trebol and Sugar in Dressrosa, and then Page One with Ulti on Wano. He even had to deal with Big Mom, Not by himself, but how many could boast about crossing paths with a Yonko and surviving?
He could definitely face the child version of their swordsman.
"Oi," he tried first.
"Hiss", said the creature behind the board.
"You're right!" he said. He stepped back, letting out an awkward chuckle. "Good talk, kiddo, I'll leave you alone…"
He shook his head.
"No, no, Usopp!" he chided himself. "You are a brave warrior of the sea. Get your ass back there!"
That's when he realized the gloopy mess on the child's head. Some dribbled past his forehead, contacting his eyes.
"Oi kid!" Usopp yelled. "That paint is toxic! Wait, don't do that!"
S-Hunter had rubbed his eyes. Now the whites of his eyes were tinged pink.
"Burns," he stated plainly.
"Of course," Usopp whined. "This paint is meant for furniture, not for hair dyeing- wait, why are you even dyeing your hair?"
The sniper man tsked, a newfound bravery resolved within him. He rolled the board aside, and grabbing the boy by the sides, rested him on his shoulder. Surprisingly, the kid let him manhandle him, only offering tiny grunts. They exited the factory, making their way to the men's rooms.
" Never mind, we got to rinse your eyes now," he said.
"Blue and yellow make green," S-Hunter said.
Usopp swung the door to the washroom, resting the kid beneath the shower head. Water began to pour out, and the kid started washing his eyes as Usopp began to adjust the knobs.
"Yes, you are a genius!" Usopp said. "But next time, we'll get you some kid-friendly paint, and I'll show you how to mix more colours-"
"Wanted to look like Father."
"Wait what?"
The admission distracted him, and he turned the right knob too far.
"Cold!" screeched the kid. He glowed a fiery red, boiling the water around him and setting the nearby curtains on fire.
"Aaaah!" Usopp screamed.
Alarmed by the abrupt scenario, S-Hunter did the next best thing. Still ignited, he leapt onto the sniper's head, clutching on tightly.
Usopp's screams became painfully louder as his hair singed.
He scrambled around the bathroom, struggling to find the doorknob as the kid crawled on him.
With no clue where he was going, he ran across the rooms, screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Fire! Fire! Help! Sanji help! There's a fire, help!"
"Usopp, what's wrong?" he heard Chopper ask.
The reindeer was finishing up for the night when he heard Usopp's cries from the other room.
That's when he took in the sight of the man on fire, with S-Hunter hanging on for dear life, and a trail of black soot from where they had been running.
"EHHHH?!" he screamed incredulously, running away to find reinforcements.
"Sanji! Come quick! Usopp's on fire!"
The ruckus alerted more of the Straw Hats. Franky, Jinbe, Sanji, and Robin were conversing in the aquarium bar when they heard their members crying for help.
Sanji set the wine tray down, plucking the kid off of the sniper's head.
"Oi, oi, I'm here," he reassured.
Seeing the blond man, the Seraphim's flames died down, and he promptly leapt in the cook's arms. Calm.
"You are a lot to handle, aren't you onigiri?" he muttered. S-Hunter made no response, eyeing Chopper. Shaking his head, Sanji turned to them.
"Sorry about that everyone," he said, smiling at Usopp and the others apologetically. "Is the men's bathroom still working?"
"No," replied Usopp, as Chopper examined his face. "It pretty much burned down."
Sanji sighed again.
"Don't worry Sanji-bro," said Franky. "We'll clean up from here. The bathroom will also be fixed in no time.
Grabbing a mop, both he and Jinbe went to work and started scrubbing the trail of soot as the latter manipulated water. Robin sprouted her arms, picking up the fallen pieces of furniture that were in the line of fire earlier.
Sanji and S-Hunter made their way up the stairs, and the sniper presumed that he was taking him to the kitchen. The child broke his gaze on the reindeer and stared back at him, letting out another hiss.
Usopp shivered.
"At least the kid likes him," he thought.
As Chopper led him to the infirmary to treat his burns, Usopp made a mental note to stock up on more paint on the next island. Maybe it would be time to invest in a lock. And a fire extinguisher.
Zoro was trying to meditate, trying.
That all went to hell when he heard the sniper and doctor screaming "FIRE" and the cook's name.
Earlier, he did the first thing he usually did when he was frustrated. And that was bench-pressing (much to Chopper's dismay, until he promised the reindeer to use lighter weights).
He didn't need to use observation haki to know that it was the clone who entered the crow's nest.
The swordsman knew it wasn't the child's fault, and that his attitude towards him wasn't the most welcoming.
But he was irrational at the moment, and the last thing he wanted to do was lash out at an innocent victim, so he decided that minimal interaction was the right approach. Zoro had taken one look at him and did his best to let out a grunt of acknowledgement.
It had worked.
S-Hunter had made himself comfortable on the floor across from Zoro, and simply watched him with keen interest. Or what he assumed was interest. If what S-Hawk said was true, the child would also be sharing similar habits, which included facial expressions.
The seraphim had watched him do his reps, eyeing the way Zoro would flex his muscles upwards and downwards. Once Zoro had finished three sets, the child got up and left. He did not stop him, figuring he had come up to watch out of curiosity. He did another set, before moving on to meditation.
His mind drifted to the earlier conversation with the older steel-bladed seraphim. And the revelation that his clone would also share Zoro's memories up until Sabaody.
Mihawk's clone had approached him after Chopper had dressed his wounds.
"You are Roronoa Zoro?" he had asked.
He had grunted in affirmation.
"Yeah," he replied.
S-Hawk walked across the artificial lawn, coming closer, until he stood in front of him.
"I saw you in my forefather's memories," he said. The boy examined the swordsman, eyeing the scars on his left eye and across his chest.
"He is fond of you," he said afterwards.
"Hn," was all Zoro said.
The two had stayed in silence, and S-Hawk spotted the youngest Seraphim watching them. Zoro followed his line of sight, but looked away when he realized it was the kid.
"Be kind to him," S-Hunter said.
Zoro raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
S-Hawk nudged in the direction where the cook and S-Hunter were. Zoro made no reaction, focusing back on him.
"He is still young," S-Hawk explained. "When we were created, we first shared all the memories, had the same mannerisms, even the same sentiments as the original, only to be locked away by the command system, and we were told to surpass them."
The child gestured to himself and demonstrated his devil fruit powers; all four of his limbs turning into sharp blades. It was a copy of the Supa Supa No Mi, Zoro had recalled, the same one as Mr. 1, of the foe he had faced back in Alabasta.
"I may look, walk, talk, and act like Mihawk," said S-Hawk. "But I am NOT him, nor do I wish to be him. That is something all of us Seraphim understand once we are awake, except for him."
His limbs turned back, and the flame behind his wings glowed once more.
"Why are you telling me all of this?" Zoro asked.
The boy scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"I'm no fool," he said. "And neither are you."
S-Hawk looked again at S-Hunter, who continued to watch them intently.
"You already are aware of the reason."
Zoro frowned. Sure, the kid was probably going to have an identity crisis of sorts, but the rest of the Seraphim would be able to guide him. S-Hawk voicing his concerns showed that at least he cared.
"It's not like he isn't going with the rest of you," Zoro said.
All he received was the look. It was the same look Mihawk had given him when he first refused to receive the man's language lessons. Perona had given up on teaching him basic map reading and cardinal directions, calling him a "lost cause."
"Your brain is a muscle too, Roronoa Zoro," he remembered his mentor saying. The eccentric man proceeded to stack French textbooks in his lap. "It will also need training."
"He is a clone of you, Roronoa Zoro," S-Hawk spoke, breaking his thoughts. His tone echoed the same as the former, so Zoro knew he definitely wouldn't like what he would hear next.
"Tell me," the child said. "What do you think he will do?"
In the silence that followed, Zoro understood the implications. But he refused.
"I won't let that happen," the swordsman said quietly.
As if expecting that answer, Mihawk's clone only shook his head.
"We'll see," he said. "Also…"
He drew his arm out, transforming it into a blade once more.
"You may take the title of the greatest swordsman from my forefather one day," he vowed. "But it is I who shall take it from you."
He pointed the arm blade near the swordsman's chest.
"Remember me, Roronoa Zoro."
The two stayed in more silence, and Zoro nodded, smirking.
"I will."
S-Hawk detransformed and turned to leave.
"Don't forget what we discussed earlier."
The smirk on Zoro's face became grim, and he sighed.
"I won't do anything that'll hurt him," he said. "And that includes making sure he doesn't come with us," he finished in his head. He hoped seraphim weren't mind readers.
"You better not," S-Hawk said. "Or I will finish you first."
Zoro said nothing.
Then S-Hawk had walked away, leaving the swordsman alone in his thoughts before Sanji had volunteered.
He didn't expect the cook to offer up their services of childcare. Out of all the Straw Hats, he thought that he would have understood the most that it would do no good to have a child on a pirate ship. The rest of the Seraphim had been content to follow Vegapunk in the submarine. Hell, even Jinbe's own clone had complied, with the robe and a single vivre card as parting gifts from the knight of the sea.
With their captain being a Yonko and literally defeating an Admiral just moments earlier, they were in more danger than ever. This was no place for the kid, let alone an environment to raise a child. Zoro himself couldn't hold a katana properly until he was seven. It didn't matter if S-Hunter was a superpowered clone. The kid should've just had a proper childhood elsewhere, as much as it would be possible. That would be away from the Straw Hats, away from that old geezer, away from the eyes of the World Government. But now, S-Hunter was with them, so it was everyone's responsibility to make sure the kid was okay.
It was Zoro's job to protect everyone on the crew.
He did not know what he would do if something happened to the child.
All that went through his mind right now, was that he blamed the cook. The cook who, by now, sounded like he had taken control of the situation downstairs, as Usopp's screams were no longer heard. Unless the sniper had been knocked unconscious.
Hey, it was his clone after all.
Picking up his swords, he descended from the crow's nest, to see what the cook and the little one were up to.
Sanji already knew it would not be easy to take care of the kid.
One, S-Hunter was a Seraphim. Those guys didn't compare to the foes that they fought on Wano, but they weren't to be underestimated either. That mad scientist did say that while he was still immature, the kid still had access to his Lunarian flames and laserbeams like the other pacifistas.
Two, he witnessed the number that he did on the shitty swordsman.
Not all the injuries inflicted on him were inflicted by the brat. The cuts on the man's sleeves and the large gash on his side were from the duel from the battle with the CP0 agent. But that didn't bother the first mate.
No, what left Zoro muttering and cursing were the little bite marks and scratches around his neck and fingers, along with the "peculiar one on his buttocks", as Chopper had said. Sanji caught a glimpse of them when he passed by the infirmary room earlier, the bruises on the marimo's shoulder and backside a nasty shade of purple. If he didn't know any better, the marks looked like they came from a deranged lover during a night of passion.
The thought of someone biting Zoro's ass though left Sanji cackling, and he discreetly did so once he was out of hearing range.
Finally, three, the kid was a clone of Zoro. That reason alone should have been enough.
Whoever had to raise Zoro must have had to deal with his logic and no sense of direction for the longest time. "An actual saint," Sanji thought to himself.
What happens when the scissors go missing before a haircut? No problem, swords can do that. What if the trees need a good trimming? Sure, swords can do that. Usopp's foot gets stuck in the floorboards, and Franky isn't around to help? Swords can do that. Sanji needs help chopping the vegetables in the kitchen? Swords can do that!
The cook had refused to let Zoro help out with his swords after he sliced the carrots, the cutting board, and the table in half. Granted, that was before Sabaody, but that was a really nice cutting board!
Zoro had ended up buying a replacement and racking up his debt with Nami, but not before a fight between the two. Sanji also ended up teaching him how to use the cooking knives instead. Ever since they reunited, Zoro had far better control over his strength, and Sanji even trusted him with handling his personal tools. Of course, this wasn't without complaint that it would just be faster to use his swords. And Sanji would only call on him to help if the girls weren't available.
He'd be lying to himself though if he said he didn't enjoy the man's company. Sanji had taught him how to filet a fish once, and now every time he asked Zoro, the man performed it like an art. No, it was art.
The point is, the marimo had a one-track mind, and so far, the kid seemingly was on the same route. A route of destruction.
He made his way to the kitchen, kicking open the storage area, looking for one of the old large tubs. Holding S-Hunter with one arm, he chose the plastic blue one, and walked to the sink with it, placing it inside. He walked across to the dining room, grabbed a high chair, took it back and placed it in front of the sink. He placed the seraphim on it.
"Stay here," he told him.
He turned around to search the condiments area. Humming to himself, he recalled how Zeff had washed his hair after they had been rescued on that fateful day. The old man had cleaned himself, refusing help, but had insisted on washing the blond boy, starting with his hair. Time flew by, and Sanji found himself adopted by the pirate and opening up the Baratie. When money was tight, he would turn to natural solutions.
A translucent green bottle was chosen, and Sanji also retrieved two bright lemons from the fridge, making sure it was locked afterwards. He took a cutting board and sliced the fruit into even quarters.
"The bathroom is going to take a bit to be fixed before you can get a bath," Sanji said. "For now, I'm going to wash your head."
Carefully, he laid him down, resting the child's head in the tub.
"How warm or cold do you want the water to be?"
"I don't like the cold," he said. "I like it hot."
Sanji chuckled. "Alright, onigiri."
The kid frowned. "I don't want to be an onigiri. I want to be a moss head, too."
"Ah," said Sanji. So that's why he broke into Usopp's paint supplies.
He turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature until he saw a look of contentment on the boy's face. He chuckled. Chopper would have the same expression on his face as well.
"Is this hot enough?" he asked.
"Mmm. Thank you, Dart-brow."
There was no teasing or malice in his voice. S-Hunter used the nickname as if it were a matter of fact. Sanji didn't know how to feel about that.
Wetting the kid's hair, he gave it a good wash, emptied the tub, and refilled it, again being precise with the temperature. He lifted the bottle into the kid's line of view, and the latter's eyes followed in curiosity.
"This is olive oil," Sanji explained. "I'm going to put this in your hair, and hopefully it washes all the paint off in one rinse."
He pointed at the yellow fruit nearby.
"I'll be using some lemon juice first, though. Do not move too much, as I don't want to burn your eyes. If Franky's able to repair the bathroom, we'll give your hair a proper shampooing. Is that understood, onigiri?"
"But I wanna be a mosshead."
Sanji sighed. "The paint isn't meant for dyeing hair. Once we arrive on the next island, I'll go pick up some green hair dye, and I'll do it for you. Does that work?"
"Okay, Dart-brow."
Sanji resisted the urge to grab a cigarette, instead grabbing one of the lemon slices. He gently squeezed it over the kid's hair, repeating the process with the rest of them.
"Please don't call me that," he said, as he scrubbed the fruit around the scalp.
"Father calls you Dart-brow."
"That's because he's not being very nice," Sanji said. "And I think you're a nice little boy, right?"
Satisfied, he tossed the skins aside, planning to put them in the compost, and began to lather the juice into the seraphim's hair.
A tiny pout appeared on S-Hunter's face.
"I'm not little," he protested.
Sanji chuckled.
"For now, you are. There's nothing wrong with being a little boy. You get to play and have fun without a care in the world. You'll grow up one day, and trust me, it's not as fun as being a kid."
"Mmm."
The mismatched mint greens, yellows, and blues began to dissolve from the boy's locks, dyeing the clear water below. Sanji dumped the dirtied water once more, taking care to support S-Hunter's head as he refilled it.
"Remember what I said. Stay still."
"Okay."
He picked up the bottle of olive oil and began to pour gently around the boy's temples. Working the liquid through the different white locks of hair, Sanji smiled as S-Hunter closed his eyes.
"There's nothing wrong with being an onigiri," he said. "They're nice and very fluffy."
Sanji turned on the faucet to rinse his hair, making sure all the oil was out. He almost didn't catch the child's words next.
"But I want to look like Father," the child said quietly.
Sanji shut off the faucet.
"How come?" he asked, peering down at him. S-Hunter's eyes remained closed.
"If I am to surpass him one day," he explained, "I must learn to become who he is, and go beyond that."
Sanji started delicately squeezing the excess water from his head.
"Why don't you just go ask the stupid swordsman himself?" he asked.
He brought the kid upright, and making sure the kid stayed put, went to open the drawer next to the fridge. An unused baby-blue towel was brought, and he wrapped it snugly around the child's head, beginning to dry it.
"Father…is afraid of me," S-Hunter answered.
Sanji gave him a dubious look.
"What? The moss head isn't afraid of you."
"He emits the same fear your sniper god had, although the sniper god was more afraid. I also do not understand why they call him a god."
Sanji recalled the first time he saw Usopp's wanted poster after Dressrosa.
"Neither do I, onigiri."
Feeling it was enough, he tossed the towel aside. The cook went back to the sink, washing the small comb he kept in his breast pocket, and came back.
"Look," he began. The kid's hair was thicker than the swordsman's, so he decided to brush the left side first.
"The idiot- ahem, Zoro just needs some time to understand all of this. He is just as uncomfortable as you are about this situation. I can promise it has nothing to do with you as a person."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm never wrong, onigiri. Besides, that shitty swordsman is a softie around children like you."
"Mmm. I guess that is true."
He worked his way around the clone's hair, detangling the ends.
Throughout the whole hair grooming process, Sanji noted that there was no retaliation from the younger, which surprised him. While he appreciated not being the kid's next scratching post, he didn't understand why he never showed any hostility.
"Why didn't you attack me?" he asked.
S-Hunter looked at Sanji's chest and pointed directly at his heart.
"I did not feel any fear from you, only warmth."
He met Sanji's gaze.
"You are also very kind in Father's memories."
Well, he did not expect that.
As if sensing the man's confusion, S-Hunter began to explain.
"Seraphim have memories of the people they are cloned from, although mine are limited. Dr. Vegapunk said he didn't have enough DNA samples to transfer to me."
He shrugged. "I wounded Father earlier to consume some of his blood, but that didn't work."
"So that explains the biting," Sanji thought.
He helped the boy off the high chair and instructed him to sit by the dinner table.
Punching in the code, the fridge was unlocked again, and he grabbed two fresh eggs and a small bowl of chopped green onions from lunch prep, closing the machine promptly.
"While I find this funny," he said. "Let's not bite him anymore. I'll whip up some delicious scrambled eggs for you after I clean up, okay?"
"Of course they'll be delicious," S-Hunter said plainly. "You're the cook."
Sanji blinked as he turned on the stove.
"Huh."
Damn, the kid was smooth.
As the eggs were cracked over the heated pan, Sanji quietly hummed as he prepared the kid's dinner. After whisking the eggs with the onions, he poured it in, adding some pepper and salt on top. He didn't want to go overboard with the spices, in case the kid was sensitive.
Meanwhile, S-Hunter waited patiently, watching the cook being happy as he plated the meal, adding two extra onigiri on the side. The rice balls were thick and fluffy, wrapped neatly in a sheet of seaweed. As Sanji approached the dinner table, the smell of cooked food made his stomach grumble, making the blond man chuckle.
"Guess he likes onigiri too," he thought with a smile.
After grabbing a pair of chopsticks, he set the plate down in front of the child.
"Enjoy kiddo."
The boy fervently nodded.
"Thank you for the meal," he replied.
Sanji watched him as he ate. The kid didn't show any animated expressions, but after a first hesitant bite, followed by practically stuffing his face, the cook knew he liked it.
Sanji chuckled, pouring him a glass of orange juice.
"You actually have a larger vocabulary than you let on," he said. "And you're good with the compliments, too."
S-Hunter let out a small belch.
"I don't like talking that much," he said. "And I was just telling the truth, Dart-Brow."
The man frowned at the nickname.
"Kid, call me that again, and I'm not giving you dessert."
A look of horror fell on the seraphim's face, which Sanji laughed at, shaking his head as he offered a peanut butter cookie.
"Won't call you that again," S-Hunter promised.
"Good. See, you're already better than your fa- Zoro."
"Mmm."
He remained there as Sanji went to wash the dirty dishware and clean up, again observing the man do his job.
"Sanji-cook," he asked quietly.
"Yes, onigiri?"
The room was only filled with the sounds of running water. When no response came, he stacked the clean pan and plates to dry after shutting off the faucet and turned to pay attention to the child, who looked hesitant.
"Yes, onigiri?" he tried again.
S-Hunter was looking down, avoiding his eyes. His black feathered wings seemed to quiver, and Sanji realized the kid was scared.
"Is it…really okay if I don't become like Father?"
Sanji blinked again.
"What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.
The words were nearly inaudible.
"Am I really okay as I am?"
In several quick strides across the room, S-Hunter was lifted in the air, startling him that his flame flickered, but Sanji ignored the heat and embraced the child.
He knew it all too well, and Sanji's heart ached for him.
"You are perfect just the way you are, onigiri," he told him tenderly. "Screw anything else someone says."
He continued to cradle him, and Sanji hummed a sea tune Zeff used to sing to him when he used to fall deathly sick. He felt the child's wings relax, and the two talked in hushed tones, Sanji answering all his questions.
"Even if my hair stays white?" S-Hunter asked quietly.
"If you want to be a white onigiri, a green onigiri, a pink onigiri, or any other colour, it's up to you."
"Even if I can't fight with three swords?"
"Then we'll help you fight with three swords, or two swords, or just one. If you can't fight with swords, then we'll find something else for you."
"What if I can only bite people?"
"Then we'll make you the fiercest biter of the New World."
"What if I don't want to be the greatest swordman, too?"
"Then chase after your own dream."
"Is it okay if I can't fly? Dr. Vegapunk said I never will"
Sanji rested the boy's head on his shoulder, patting his head. S-Hunter made no noise, but Sanji felt his shoulder dampen.
"Then we'll be your wings," he promised. "Me, the swordsman, our captain, all of the Straw Hats. We're a crew, and we make sure no one is left behind."
The two stayed there in each other's comfort, as Sanji rocked him to sleep.
The swordsman had eavesdropped the entire conversation earlier, but decided not to enter, wishing not to intrude. The reindeer had caught him standing in front of the door, and although the younger tried to coax him, Zoro refused. Chopper sighed, but left him alone.
Zoro's stomach sank upon hearing the child's questions to the cook. S-Hawk was right, the kid's sense of self-identity had been twisted.
The first mate also internally scolded himself for not realizing how Sanji's past mirrored the child's circumstances sooner. All of his information from what was disclosed on Zou, along with some dark jokes the cook would say. At its core, it was child and domestic abuse, which no one, including him, excused. Although he only met two of them, Zoro had a loathing for the Vinsmokes, minus maybe for the sister. If he ever saw the green-haired jerk again, or any of the brothers and their father for that matter, he would cut them in pieces.
"I know you're out there," he heard the cook speak. "Come in, kid's asleep."
Zoro stepped inside and found the cook sitting in the dining hall, with the brat resting on his shoulder. Harmless. More guilt crept up inside him.
"Only came in for a drink," he lied.
"Yeah, of course you would," the blonde man said, rolling his eyes. "And no, you can't."
"Hmph."
"You wanna fight mosshead?"
Zoro reached for his swords, but then scowled.
"No," he said. "Don't wanna wake the kid."
They awkwardly remained there, waiting for the other's next move, until Sanji got up, making sure not to make noise. He turned around to leave the swordsman to his devices, knowing that the alcohol was locked away and that he would murder him if he tried to break it open.
"Wait, cook."
Sanji paused, the door halfway open, glancing back at him.
"What?"
The green-haired man looked at him, shifting awkwardly, and Sanji couldn't help but see how the kid's body language mirrored his.
"Thanks. For everything."
The words were brief, but the cook understood. He smiled, almost fondly, and Zoro pretended that it didn't make his heart skip a beat.
"You're welcome, mosshead," Sanji said.
As they walked away, the swordsman watched S-Hunter drool on the cook's shoulder, and the sound of footsteps became fainter until Zoro realized he had been staring into the blank space for too long.
A/N: No snipers were harmed in the making of this chapter. Not fatally, at least (I swear I love God Usopp it's why this update is on time).
Thank you for reading, and for all the love that you have shown for this story so far, it's made me really giddy to see that it has amused you all, hehehe. Feel free to leave any comments if you want, I'd be happy to hear what you guys think!
See y'all in the next update~
-V
