#1x18-1x19 ✍︎︎
Life on the Going Merry is pretty great.
There's room to train, equipment, and enough time to dedicate to his pursuit of greatness. A wide, sunny deck to nap on, a somewhat limitless supply of booze to drain, and a more than solid amount of rations to keep his belly full. Even better, he gets to have sex. Regularly. And a lot of it too. The swordsman really couldn't ask for better conditions while living at sea.
Except…
Usopp's doing it again.
His one-man plays were entertaining at first, but now they function more like white noise. Zoro tends to drown them out. Today is no different.
"I've FINISHED!—" Luffy's boisterous holler and Usopp's startled fall decisively pull Zoro's attention from the edges of sleep. Opening an eye, he stretches his gaze across the deck to see what all the commotion is about. The existence of black cloth in Luffy's arms immediately has him sitting up.
Their captain spreads out his first attempt at a Jolly Roger and the swordsman's initial interest has now disintegrated into dread.
"—Hehe. Look! Our pirate mark! Now that Usopp's joined, we have four people. That's almost a whole crew! I think it's about time we have our own flag!"
What the fuck am I looking at right now? Zoro blinks.
Across from him, Nami swivels rightward to look behind her for a prolonged moment. When she turns back around, expression pinched, her eyes snag on his. A mutual thought passes between them: He can't be serious…
The navigator sets down her charts, gets up, and steps over to the mast. She needs to see Luffy's questionable design from afar to accept that this is, in fact, reality. Sharing her sentiments, Zoro makes his way over to where Nami stands; each one of his steps heavier than the last. Usopp slumps over to join them with an equally discombobulated countenance.
Luffy's grinning from ear to ear and his first mate doesn't know what to say. The swordsman exchanges a sideways glance with their navigator. Unspoken remarks fly between them as they argue over who is going to speak up first. One stealthy and brutal pinch to his side has Zoro reluctantly volunteering. He's getting back at her for this later.
"Uh…Luffy. Is that really going to be our mark?" The swordsman asks, already fearing his captain's answer.
"What do you think? Nice huh?!" Fuck, he's serious.
Another swift exchange of nonverbal words ensues, and this time, Zoro wisely crosses his arms to protect his sides. His and Nami's comments do very little to dissuade their stretchy friend. Usopp, predictably, uses this as an opportunity to appoint himself captain again.
Two blows to the head and multiple buckets of paint later, Usopp finally finishes their mark. Unlike the first couple of designs, the swordsman finds pride in this one. If he was going to serve under a pirate mark for the rest of his life, it better be a damn good one. And this one was pretty damn good.
Sitting up against the mast, Zoro takes a moment to enjoy the breeze dancing across the sea. He doesn't get to bask in the moment long. A change in the air and the encroaching, eery black clouds over the water move his attention rightward.
Nami returns to her makeshift desk and Zoro's gaze follows her as she intently peers over her charts. If he had been looking out to sea like Luffy and Usopp, he might have missed the wickedly calculative smile edging across Nami's lips.
What the fuck has she got planned now? Zoro wonders skeptically. He gets up and lazily steps over to where they have all gathered. Nami pulls out her binoculars and the swordsman suppresses a snort of amusement. This ought to be good.
𖣘𖣘𖣘
Treasure Island is…unique. The initial trek inward is also uneventful. Usopp clings to Zoro like a leech after being spooked and despite the swordsman's best attempts to shake him off, the sharpshooter's persistence holds. Nami's retelling of the island's rumored horrors gets mixed reviews. The captain is enthralled. The marksman is terrified. And the swordsman is reasonably intrigued. Seeing a man strangled by his mustache sounds like a wild time.
Beyond that, the excursion thus far has been less than exciting. There isn't any real experience to be had or threats to vanquish. All of the animals lurking inside the tree lines pose no danger as far as Zoro's concerned, so his expectations of fighting off at least one monster remain unfulfilled. It's disappointing and a huge waste of his time. The only suitable improvements to an otherwise regrettable day trip would either be sex or sleeping—and since sex is clearly off the table when treasure's involved—Zoro naps.
When the stirrings of consciousness begin to spread out to his extremities, roughly half an hour later; familiar snippets of memory start to linger in the forefront of his mind.
The smells of dirt, grass, and nature take him on a hazy journey back to Shimotsuki and Syrup Village. The rice fields and mountains around Shimotsuki Village dissolve smoothly into the rocky cliff-sides and wavy grasslands of Syrup Village. Day turns to night and the tryst he shared with Nami above the south slope rolls temptingly through his head. There's soft skin, coarse hands, strained lungs, and the sensations of hot silk mixed inside of a dark green curtain spliced by moonlight. It's primal. Thrilling. Enrapturing. He's left with a shallow ache in his loins.
Suppressing the urge, Zoro decides he's napped long enough. Opening his eyes, he expects to see the rest of his crew loitering around nearby. They've abandoned him apparently; the bastards.
Scrutinizing his surroundings and honing his senses, Zoro tries to pinpoint their location with no luck.
Tiredly, the swordsman stows his katanas and rocks up to his feet. He stretches out some kinks in his back and rests his arm across the trio of hilts at his side. With one final look across the jungle backdrop, Zoro begins searching. At least he finally had something productive to do.
Finding them takes forever and all of this wandering around makes him sleepy again.
"—Oh there you are," he mutters through a yawn as he emerges from the thicket. "I've been looking all over for you guys."
"Ugh. How could you have slept through everything that's just happened?!" There's an accusatory look on the navigator's face as she acknowledges him. Her expression practically screams 'I've just lived through some crazy shit, where were you?'
Zoro scratches his head indifferently. Dark eyes brush over her figure with transitory and accustomed ease. She seems fine. All of her limbs are intact and she doesn't seem to be in mortal peril. The same goes for the other two. Hell, Usopp's sitting there drinking coffee. What's she so worked up about? Speaking of coffee…
Without asking, Zoro takes the pink mug from Usopp and sits down on a small boulder. Just what I needed, he decides, savoring the drink.
Despite the recent dose of caffeine to his system, Zoro can't help but wonder if he's still been asleep this entire time. How else would you describe opening your eyes and immediately encountering a sight so shocking it knocks you flat on your ass? Dreaming is a reasonable explanation. 'The human equivalent to a potted plant' is not. "What the heck is that?!"
"He finally sees it," Nami exhales; her pretty face stuck in a deadpan expression.
Zoro's eyes fly between Nami, the shrub-man, and Luffy in immense disbelief.
"Check it out," Luffy gestures behind himself. "He's in a treasure chest!"
"Like a Jack-in-the-box..."
'Shrub-man' erupts at that, which the swordsman deems a bit unfair. He just fucking got there, how the hell is he supposed to know what they've already gone over? It's ridiculous.
𖣘𖣘𖣘
There is no treasure.
Although one could argue that the real reward behind this bizarre experience is the value of companionship. A fleeting, ruminative thought Zoro shares offhandedly with Nami during a 'cool down' period late that night. Something he quickly identifies as mildly out of character for himself. The swordsman is frankly shocked that he can even make such sappy inferences. This revelation seems to stun the navigator as well.
"Are you feeling okay?" she teases him half-seriously. "That was surprisingly erudite of you Zoro." Nami lifts herself onto one elbow and touches his forehead with the back of her free hand.
Rolling his eyes at her antics, Zoro knocks her hand away without any real force, as he folds his arm beneath his head.
"I'm not an idiot," he grouches.
"I know," he can hear the playful smile in her voice. "Idiocy doesn't turn me on." Her roundabout compliment doesn't sound too bad in his ears. A pleased half-grin treks up one side of his mouth in response.
That evening finds them on the floor, stretched out across the large and luxurious rug that runs beneath the couch. The table, which is normally in this spot, is resting…somewhere. Zoro doesn't exactly recall where he moved it to during the heat of the moment when their clothes were coming off. He does know, however, that it's in the general vicinity of the stairs.
Movement at his side draws Zoro's attention over to Nami. Relaxed eyes watch the navigator drape her torso across his chest with modest interest. Folding her arms over his sternum, Nami stanchions her chin atop her hands and regards him with careful fascination.
"What?"
"You must have nerves of steel."
He quirks a brow at her, silently telling her that she needs to elaborate a bit more because he's not following her.
"You can sleep anywhere," she expands thoughtfully. "Since I've met you, I've seen you fall asleep in the most random of places. On the street when we were running from Buggy's crew. Beside a field in Syrup Village. Today it was in the middle of a jungle!"
"So?" He snorts amused.
"Not to mention you were completely unfazed by Gaimon's menagerie of hybrid creatures." The swordsman wouldn't go that far. Some of those animals were weird as shit. He just didn't find them frightening or unsettling. Compared to their master, the animals were a rather tame surprise.
"I just can't wrap my head around it," she huffs in fond exasperation. "Hence the 'you must have nerves of steel,' remark."
"I don't see what the big deal is," he yawns unperturbed. "There wasn't anything dangerous, so I napped."
"I beg to differ," she disagrees.
Zoro untucks his left hand from beneath his head and settles it across her upper back. "The place reminded me a little of that time above the slope," he recalls while running a purposeful knuckle down her spine, one vertebrate at a time.
A coy smile unravels across her face with graceful ease. "What slope are you referring to? I remember the island having more than one."
She seemed to enjoy these little bantering games they would sometimes play and he had no qualms in humoring her. They entertained him too. Just a little.
"The second one."
"That doesn't help me at all," she sighs with a theatrical roll of her eyes.
His lips elevate at the corners and he gives her a lazy shrug.
"What about the jungle reminded you of our little forest frolic above the slope?" Nami ventures curiously.
"The jungle is a completely different ecosystem by the way. I didn't see much of a resemblance," she adds humorously. Unimportant details. The ambiance was roughly the same, that's all that matters.
"Fucking you against a tree was a memorable experience," he unabashedly admits. "I'd like to do it again."
His eyes find hers in the darkness. She bites her bottom lip and he uses this opportunity to push her head down into a hungry kiss. Minutes later, while they're catching their breath, Nami leans forward to press a kiss to his temple. Then her lips descend to his ear and she whispers: "I liked it too. There aren't any wooded islands nearby…but the mast was once a tree—maybe we should start there? I'm open to trying it out on your next watch."
He's not going to make it until his next shift with that imagery playing out in his mind. The temptress knows it too. Fuck.
𖣘𖣘𖣘
Zoro dreams of Kuina.
It's strange. He hasn't thought about her for a long time, but he still dreams of her anyway. He dreams of her short, dark hair. Her sharp eyes. Her unmatched technique in the dojo. He remembers how much she towered over him, in skill and height, after thousands of victories. He remembers how his pride always hurt worse than the bruises he got every time he'd hit the floor following a brutal defeat. Humiliation had such a nasty bite. His skin got tougher.
Kuina was fierce and determined. Beautiful. But she was also so incredibly bitter. She never coated her words in anything other than venom. Zoro developed a tolerance for the verbal poison she spewed sometimes. His peers weren't so lucky. Whenever he sparred with them, he could see that their souls had withered a little more each time. Zoro refused to let his soul wane.
So he trained. He challenged. He lost.
He trained. He challenged. He lost.
He trained. He challenged. He lost. He lost her.
Zoro had lost against her so many times that he would fail to keep count. That type of loss was familiar. This loss was different. It hit differently. It hurt differently. He became different, and he lost himself too, for a while.
The promise they made to one another was the only thing that brought him back from the edge each time he was ready to step over it. Kuina was the catalyst for everything. His dream. His ability. His strength of will. That is his biggest regret, not telling her how much she truly impacted his life.
The irony of it all is that he's found himself face-to-face with another fiercely determined girl. One who also has short hair and sharp eyes. He's taller than her, but her brain is bigger. She's not skilled in the ways of the sword, and yet she wields her knowledge of the atmosphere and the sea with equally sharp precision. She's an incredible force of nature too, just like Kuina.
Kuina will always be his rival. He doesn't know what Nami will be. But for now, Zoro supposes she's a friend.