#1x31—1x44 ✍︎︎
His body hurts. The discomfort is similar to an ant hill. Minuscule flecks of pain numbering in the thousands march out of his wounds. They journey through every vein and secrete out of every pore. Something as simple as breathing stings. Each breath tugs at the edges of his lacerations, stretching the wounds open. Over and over again. It's excruciating. Torturous. He attempts to trick his brain—if he endures one more minute, the agony will lessen. It never does.
To distract himself from the pain, he focuses on his anger. He puts the entire weight of his lividness behind the navigator's betrayal. The only reason he's going after her is because Luffy asked him to. He's not worried about her. His days won't feel different without her in them. Getting her back is simply a duty. That's it.
A shadow eclipses the sun. Forcing his eyes open a sliver, Zoro catches a nervous Usopp and a determined Johnny attempting to change his bandages. The swordsman lets his gaze sink transitorily down to his chest. It looks like he's bled entirely through them. Flicking his gaze back to his companions, he can see that the sight of all this blood is freaking them out. It's just blood. He won't die. He's got lofty aspirations to succeed. His pseudo-caretakers squabble over the correct way to wrap bandages for a good twenty minutes, and at this point, they might as well just let him bleed out.
Some areas of clotting along the major laceration have started to break apart—his irritation with them is probably to blame. But Zoro's not a doctor; what the fuck does he know? In response to the dotted spots where blood is oozing out, Usopp and Johnny descend into full-blown panic. As the sharpshooter tries to move with haste, he stumbles and inadvertently presses too hard on the swordsman's torn abdomen. Zoro's reactive roar of pain sends Usopp scurrying a yard back.
"I'll do it," Zoro snarls. Wisely, Johnny hands over the remaining bandages and lingers just long enough to help the swordsman re-wrap his wounds with suffocating tugs of the cloth before giving his friend a wide berth.
If Zoro's wounds were stitched better, this wouldn't be a big problem. But the pair doesn't know how to stitch cut-open skin well. Nami does. She knows how to sew flesh, flush wounds, and tightly bandage properly. She knows how to treat scurvy and alleviate his sleeplessness. The swordsman doesn't want clumsy, inexperienced hands that accidentally compress his wounds while redressing bandages. He wants tender, meticulous fingers that draw paths across bare skin and chart maps. Zoro needs Nami. But she's gone, and his anger flares.
𖣘𖣘𖣘
A drift at sea, Zoro has a lot of time to think.
He mulls over his fight with Hawkeye. Every step he took. Every sequence of moves he made. It all synthesizes into a film he dissects frame by frame inside his mind's eye. This acceleration should've been executed faster. This parry needed more strength behind it. The swordsman runs through his fight a hundred times just like this. He reflects, and he formulates. New training regimens are written, erased, and reworked.
The mental exertion is good and bad. It exhausts him enough to fall asleep, but not for very long. He's still restless and on edge. He wakes every few hours and then forces himself to start this process again.
Tired eyes waft across the sky overhead. The sun sets, and the horizon blooms into this beautiful bouquet of warm hues. The orange color intermingling between the reds and pinks reminds him of Nami.
He recalls the last conversation they shared on the Going Merry's forecastle. Her smile had been enervated. It made her lips tremble even as her mouth curved. He thought it was a sign of fear. The tirade of emotions folding lines into her face suggests otherwise. Guilt. Sadness. Pain. There is no fear. A shit ton of stubbornness, yes. But no fear.
That brave, indomitable will of hers coruscates inside his memory. How mad he is doesn't matter; the swordsman's still awed by her spirit. It's fleeting and unfathomable, this impulse he has to kiss her. He can't kill the urge fast enough, and so the urge changes. It latches onto his thoughts and drags him along as it races.
Sensory recollections run wild.
The smoothness of her skin as it slides alongside his. Manicured nails dragging shallow red lines down the back of his shoulders. As soft as satin, orange hair tickles his cheeks as his mouth descends past her collarbones and goes lower still. Her smell—a distinct coalescence of parchment, citrus, sea salt, and sun—fills his nose with every lungful of air. The mumbled gasps of his name ring melodiously in his ears. That bottom lip of hers is swollen and bitten raw. He's nearly consumed in the rapture. But his rational mind suddenly finds its footing again.
The swordsman repels these thoughts with the same fierceness he uses on foes.
Zoro blames his blood loss and the transitioning sky for this onslaught of Nami-related images. Even the sky wanted to torture him with evocations of her. He fires up a glare at the sunset; dick move.
𖣘𖣘𖣘
On the morning they're set to arrive at Arlong Park, Zoro organizes his thoughts.
Internally, he's at a crossroads. One road of consciousness is geared up for a fight. He's ready to fulfill his promise to Luffy and never lose again. He won't let this injury derail him.
The second road of consciousness is centered around Nami.
If Luffy hadn't made this request, would Zoro have pushed for them to go after her? If he didn't push, did he care enough to go alone? Or would he have been content enough with the notion of never seeing her again? The beginnings of a tight, congested feeling appear in his chest. Ultimately, the 'what ifs' don't matter; his decision has already been made.
The decision he can't make sense of is why Nami left. Her departure was abrupt and selfish, but he doubts her reasoning was due to unhappiness. He never felt she was unhappy all the time he'd known her. She seemed to enjoy her time with the crew immensely. Despite how often she griped about Luffy's foolishness, Zoro's laziness, or Usopp's cowardice—the swordsman knew she was happy with them. With him. The never-dimming light in her eyes proved that.
He also has misgivings about her motive stemming from a lack of care for them.
If she didn't care, she wouldn't have stolen the cage key for Luffy.
She wouldn't have kicked his swords up to him on the slope if she didn't care.
Preventing the siege on Usopp's village wouldn't have mattered to her either.
Nami cares, even when she acts like she doesn't.
Her wrapped upper arm, those far-off looks, and her unexpected vulnerability that night on the rear cannon deck come to mind.
It had to be personal. Zoro stops here, in a quandary, and reminds himself that her justifications for betraying them don't matter. He only has one objective: to bring her back, even if she's kicking and screaming.
"—Alright, we're here. That's Arlong Park ahead," Johnny announces with a nervous clench of his teeth.
Zoro maneuvers his head to the right and takes in the tall, yellow pagoda.
Arlong park. It had a foreboding aura to it. The swordsman tunes out his companions' yammering about locating the Going Merry first. They're just wasting time. The Going Merry isn't important right now. They have the element of surprise right now and should use it to their advantage.
Zoro braces the end of Wado Ichimonji against the deck and uses the katana to help him stand. Once up, he says, "Let's attack."
The swordsman presses his thumb under the hilt of his sword and exposes the blade with a decisive push.
"BUT I JUST SAID WE SHOULDN'T DO ANYTHING STUPID!"
"WHAT?! ATTACK?! YOU IDIOT WE KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THIS PLACE!"
"YEAH! THESE GUYS ARE THE FISHMEN!"
"WE NEED SOME KIND OF PLAN TO DO THAT!"
Johnny and Usopp take turns screaming up at him; Zoro's frankly surprised his ears aren't bleeding yet. They sound like overly agitated birds, and their squawking proves he's the only battled-minded person here.
"While the two of you are busy blabbering and wimping out, I'm placing my thoughts on the battle we're about to face. Luffy told me to bring her back, and I'll do just that." Stepping onto the dinghy's figurehead, Zoro prepares to dismount as soon as they dock. "Let's go!" He orders.
Everything suddenly goes black.
𖣘𖣘𖣘
These damn, ungrateful bastards knocked him out. Then they had the gall to jump ship and leave him tied to the fucking cabin door. Nami's betrayal is starting to feel like a mild grievance right now.
Zoro watches through fury-tinted eyes as a pair of fishmen board the dinghy.
These guys are supposed to be scary?! The swordsman can't at all fathom why anyone would be terrified of these fin-headed dimwits. If the fishmen were more than just a handful of brain cells, they would have noticed two humans fleeing in the water and captured them. Usopp and Johnny must think they've managed to outrun danger for now. They're wrong. Those guys are dead, and they don't even know it.
The dinghy doesn't take long to reach the fishmen's playground. One of the fishmen announces their arrival: "Open the gates! We have a prisoner on board this vessel!"
The metal gates swing open, and Zoro finally gets his first look at the infamous Arlong Park. His eyes descend the yellow pagoda and pass over a series of white awnings that roll like waves across the stone patio. Beneath them, Arlong sits atop his very own throne. The swordsman catalogs the number of fishmen loitering around the pool just beyond the gate. He doesn't think they'll be much of an issue to take out once he's free. Getting free is his biggest obstacle right now.
The dinghy glides through the entrance and carries Zoro across a cerulean rug until he reaches the pool base. An interrogation begins.
"One more time," the words drag across a gravelly, gill-lined throat. "What was your purpose in coming here to this island?"
Zoro's tired of answering questions and being treated like a speckle of dirt beneath arrogant, webbed feet. Fishmen weren't that smart.
"Like I said before," the swordsman growls impatiently. "I'm looking for a girl you half-fish bastard." These bastards aren't giving him much of an opportunity to find openings in their defenses. I'm going to be here for a while, he grumbles.
"Hmph, W-O-W." Arlong's mouth spreads into a jagged grin that reveals a set of sharp, conic teeth. "For someone I consider a good meal, you are either really stupid or you've got a lot of guts in there." Zoro's lips twitch a little; When I cut open all your friends, I'll have even more guts.
"We fishmen are…simply the next rung of the evolutionary ladder from you pathetic humans. We are incredibly resilient. We can breathe both on land AND underwater. An ability which clearly establishes our physical superiority from you."
Slicing Arlong into tiny, sashimi-sized pieces might be the only way to save Zoro's ears from such idealistic bigotry. Seriously, when will this bastard shut up?
Arlong taps his webbed index finger against his temple. "I don't know if this will make any sense to that puny brain running around in your head but fishmen are the lords of all creatures and to defy against us is to defy nature."
What bullshit.
A few spontaneous rebuttals form on his tongue but disintegrate when familiar, delicate footfalls whisper against his eardrum. The swordsman hopes he's hallucinating.
Then, he hears her voice: "I'm really sick of listening to your BIG ideas, Arlong."
Nami emerges from inside the pagoda, and Zoro can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The lack of reaction from the fishmen to her presence isn't a good sign. Apprehension knots barbarously in his stomach.
"Why are you always so serious, Nami? You know that I wasn't talking about you. You are a very special human, our greatest navigator, and a valued member of this crew. You always have been."
Nami's face doesn't betray her at Arlong's words. "Say what you will, but I'm a lot smarter than any of you. That's for sure." Except for a cursory glance in Arlong's direction, she doesn't remove her attention from the swordsman.
Zoro doesn't like the impassivity on her face or her calm demeanor.
His hackles raise. "Why did he call you his navigator, Nami? You can't honestly expect me to believe you work for him?!"
Arlong seems amused, "Hold on, is this guy a friend of yours, Nami?"
Nami approaches him slowly, reading from a script he doesn't recognize. "Don't be ridiculous; this is just another fool who thought I wasn't gonna' steal all of his treasure right out from under his nose." The navigator crouches, "To think he actually followed me here without knowing that shows how stupid he is."
They're at face level now. Zoro scours her face, looking for a tell that she's putting on an act. Her mask is impenetrable. The knot in his stomach constricts and becomes tighter.
This entire time, he's been convinced that he knows her, and he still believes that he does…but now he's not so sure. There's a murmur of doubt.
"So this is the person you really are. All along, I thought you couldn't stand pirates."
"You thought wrong. It was all an act, and you bought the whole show."
Nami angles her left bicep to reveal Arlong's mark tattooed into her skin fully. This blow to his sanity feels like a punch. She's not wearing her bandages anymore, and now he knows why.
"I'm a pirate, plain and simple." Nami stands, "And a navigator for Arlong."
"I guess you finally get it. I just used you guys to get what I wanted. You were skilled enough to serve my needs. But boy, were you guys a bunch of suckers."
Behind his back, the swordsman clenches and unclenches his fists a few times. He needs to stay calm. He's starting to second-guess his instincts, and that's dangerous. If he can't trust himself, he needs to trust Luffy. There's no way Luffy would be wrong about her.
Arlong's laugh is reminiscent of a saw cutting through flesh. Zoro finds it fitting.
"She had you guys completely fooled! It's no use; she's cold-blooded. She betrayed her family for money. So you really shouldn't feel too bad."
A minute tremor slithers through her skin, and the motion lures the swordsman's gaze upwards. It's transitory, but the confident façade Nami has dressed herself in cracks. The fissure in her mask breaks open just far enough for Zoro to look in and catch a glimpse of pain.
Arlong continues, "If I were you, I would just admit defeat and try to forget the day you met her."
This gutted look of hers changes things.
Zoro's relieved. Seeing her so upset proves she's still got some of that daring girl left in her. She hasn't lost her humanity yet. The Nami he knows can still be salvaged.
What did she say again? That this was an 'act' and he bought the whole show? Funny. If she orchestrated this ordeal as some cruel ploy to manipulate him, Zoro didn't see why he couldn't join in on this little production and use her, too.
He draws up a plan in his head. Then, he sets a trap and throws her a line.
"I don't need to," his admission clears the petrification from her face and replaces it with surprise.
"Heh," Zoro chuckles. "'Cause I never saw anything in her to be trusted in the first place. If she turned out to be a serial killer, I wouldn't be surprised."
She bites.
"Fine! Then why don't you just get the hell out of here?! I'm tired of your face."
His performance worked, and she took the bait. Zoro readies himself for the final act.
His grin is the only warning he gives her before he launches himself backward. As he hovers momentarily in the air, he watches horror and alarm pull wide across Nami's face. This is precisely what he wants. This is his revenge against her, in a way, too.
The water is cold as his back breaks through the water's surface. Bubbles of air slip from his nostrils and through the corners of his mouth. He watches them float towards the surface and disappear. His grin stays even as he sinks deeper. It's tranquil down here. Time also flows differently. What is only a few seconds feels more like years.
Eventually, the pool's surface parts and Nami dives down just like he knew she would.
Anger and desperation are shining with blinding intensity in her eyes. There's a halo of fire behind the navigator's face. She looks like the sun.
Nami grabs his face when she reaches him, and she kisses him underwater with a slamming press of their mouths together. It's a kiss with a short lifespan—but it makes a mighty impact. Her lips weld firmly against his, and he greedily takes the oxygen she's giving him. Behind the oxygen comes an onslaught of emotions. Fury. Disbelief. Pain. He shoves his frustration and suffering back across her tongue with a rough kiss of his own.
Then the moment is over. Her mouth rips from his, and her face has this haunted expression as she pulls away. The expression is transitory enough that he thinks he might have imagined it. Her hands band around his tied forearms with a fierce grip, and her legs powerfully kick through the water as they ascend. It's impressive how quickly they surface.
Nami hauls their torsos over the stone edge of the pool. All either one of them can do is laboriously breathe.
"What do you think you're doing?!" She gasps in outrage.
He coughs out a scathing, low remark of his own. "No. What do you think you're doing?!"
Zoro pivots his head and delivers a sharp grin. "You're really just a nice girl who can't watch one guy die. Why don't you quit pretending."
Panic splinters across her face. Good. They're finally starting to get somewhere.
"And you might want to jump a bit quicker next time. I thought I was dead."
"Oh, you bastard!" Her foot slams into his back, and despite his best efforts, he can't suppress his groan of pain.
Nami yanks him to his feet. "Try that again, and I'll make sure you die!" Lurking behind her ire is a desperate pleading. She's practically begging him to cut out his shit and leave so she can return to her ruse unburdened.
Now, where's the fun in that?
He chuckles, "Really?"
Nami's eyes drift across his torso. Her breath falters, and her color drains. Her eyes gleam wetly as immense concern encompasses her face. Then, she forces a neutral mask back in place with difficulty. The navigator's semblance has returned.
"That's a lot of bandages. You must've been hurt pretty bad."
"Actually, I forgot my shirt and grabbed these to cover up so you wouldn't get distracted." A cheeky smirk slides over his lips as he gives her a knowing look.
One of her fists launches into his gut. Okay. Maybe he deserved that one.
Hunched over on the ground, Zoro breathes through his teeth as sharp waves of pain knock into him. She had a lot of strength behind that punch…the swordsman is equally surprised and impressed. The realization distracts him from his excruciating discomfort for a moment.
"Tell me, what should we do with this guy?" Arlong voices.
Small wet steps echo against the stone as Nami retreats towards the pagoda. "Lock him up! I'll take care of him when I have the time." Her decision has the swordsman's lips quirking to one side. Back to acting, was it?
"Arlong! Hey! Arlong!" A fishman bursts in from a side entrance.
"Yeah? Well? Spit it out. What is it?" Arlong demands.
"Yes, sir! This guy didn't come here alone. There was another long nose weird looking guy with him. But he got away."
With Usopp's presence on the island now being revealed, Zoro can feel the weight of Nami's glare. He's not happy about this development either. What the hell, Usopp?! You left me for dead and got spotted anyway?! The swordsman really was the only battle-minded person on the crew.
"I think he escaped into Cocoyasi village."
Cocoyasi sounds vaguely familiar to Zoro. He tries to recall why.
"Cocoyasi, huh?" Arlong deliberates. "That's perfect. Now I have two reasons to go. It's time to go have some fun."
𖣘𖣘𖣘
The holding cell Zoro is thrown into is nothing more than your run-of-the-mill stone room. The walls are cracked and worn. They crumble in spots but remain firm in other places…just like the navigator's mask. Zoro's mind wanders. He's curious: how many years has Nami been the lead actor in this stage play she's concocted? And how long does she plan to continue this subterfuge? Until her goal is achieved? Whatever that goal happens to be. The better question is how much time Zoro will spend waiting for her goal to be finished.
The metal door to his holding cell creaks open. Those hauntingly familiar steps brush across the stone floor; he's been waiting for her. The swordsman opens his eyes to find Nami standing before him. She's stopped outside the diagonal beam of light flowing through the barred window overhead. His eyes stroke over her face, taking in her beauty as much as her tiredness. When his gaze lowers, it catches on her tattoo. She's covered her tattoo every time they've been together….he's starting to wonder if the action was done out of shame rather than deceit.
Returning his focus to her face, Zoro notices she's been observing him this entire time—mindful of his scrutiny. How very like her.
They lock eyes. Nami doesn't say anything, and Zoro doesn't bother with words either. The silence between them is already heavy with dialogue.
You shouldn't be here, she tells him. He snorts, that's obvious.
Her eyebrows furrow in displeasure.
If you hadn't left, he finally responds. I wouldn't be.
Nami's lips pressed into a thin line; I had no choice. She's frustrated and angry.
His eyes gleam over, feeling equally as irate. You should've said something and not just taken off!
The navigator snorts as well, Would you have listened to me if I did?
Her insinuation makes him pause.
Whatever she sees on his face must be the answer she expected to find there. A part of him wishes he knew his own expression because a line is drawn between them. He doesn't know if he cares enough to remove it right now. This entire ordeal with her so far has been strenuous. Perhaps distance would be for the best.
Nami appears to feel the same. "I don't fucking have time for this," she hisses mostly to herself. It's the first audible words she's spoken since she came here.
She flips the knife in her hand and steps towards him. With swift cuts, she frees him from the rope, binding his forearms and ankles. She returns to her feet and heads to the door when her task is finished.
"Get out of here quick," a warning and maybe a goodbye. "Arlong's gonna be back soon."
Zoro examines the rope pieces she cut and chooses not to respond. His apathy to her departure is a good thing, he decides. He's too worked up right now, and going after her will only continue to strain his last vestiges of composure. What the swordsman needs right now is to find his sword and then take his frustrations out on any remaining fishmen he can find.
Nami tosses his Wado Ichimonji into the cell as if knowing his intentions. He watches his blade roll against the floor towards him with tense contemplation.
This is the second time she's returned his katana(s) to him…these handouts are starting to make him look bad.
𖣘𖣘𖣘
Zoro's reunion with Luffy is unexpected but not unwelcome.
After hitching a ride to Cocoyasi village from the octopus bastard, Zoro thought things were finally running smoothly. Of course, that was until he learned that Usopp had been taken prisoner at Arlong Park. It was also before his captain hit him with a boat and dragged his ass inland across an entire field.
To top off this fucking pyramid, Johnny has returned with the news that Usopp is dead and Nami was the perpetrator.
Johnny's claim of Nami seeking Arlong's favor to get the treasure buried under Cocoyasi village seems like an evil scheme with some holes. What Johnny saw with his own eyes isn't something Zoro can entirely dismiss. But internally, he doubts it's true. Nami saved him. She will have saved Usopp, too.
Zoro waits for Luffy to release his anger on Johnny before stepping in.
"Easy, Luffy," he steps forward. "This has nothing to do with Johnny."
"Go on, believe whatever you want. But I know what I saw! Nami killed big bro Usopp."
"Shut yer' mouth!" Luffy snarls, shaking Johnny even harder. "Never in a million years would Nami kill Usopp. She wouldn't do that to her friends!"
At this rate, Zoro's captain might inadvertently kill his old comrade. Motion in the distance steals his attention. The swordsman passes a wary gaze rightward, and the uninvited presence inserts a concoction of dread and annoyance in his stomach.
Nami's arrival isn't going to help matters at all.
"What was that about friends, Luffy?" The navigator inquires with an edge of steel to her words.
Luffy releases Johnny's collar and turns around in surprise, "Nami?!"
"What are you doing here?" It's a rhetorical question on her end. She already knows why they're here; the woman just doesn't want to accept it.
"What are we doing here?" Luffy parrots back in confusion. "You're our friend! We came to getcha'."
"What a pest."
"Nami?"
"Friends, huh? Don't make me laugh. You're just pathetic enough to deserve each other."
The swordsman tracks Johnny's movement as the bounty hunter rushes a few steps forward and then stops. He doubts his friend has the guts to attack her, but just in case, Zoro adjusts his stance in case he needs to intervene again.
Johnny voices his accusations again, and predictably, Nami confirms his suspicions with a vague answer. "Yep, that's right. So why don't you kill me and get your revenge."
Zoro's got to hand it to her; she sure is good at spinning a false narrative. He pivots his gaze around Johnny and deposits his focus on Nami's bo-wielding hand. She's wearing a glove on her left hand now. She hadn't needed one earlier when he was still a captive in Arlong Park. The knife she had been carrying is also suspiciously absent.
Interesting.
Nami rocks her staff as she vocalizes, "Word to the wise fellas, because of your friend's stupidity, Arlong is preparing to kill Zoro, along with his entire crew. And I don't care how monstrously strong you guys think you are. You're no match for the real monsters. I promise you, if you stay on this island, you will die. So, you have a choice to make between life and death."
Hearing that Arlong has changed the trajectory of his plans tenses Zoro's muscles.
The blond cook is suddenly swooning, and Zoro can't fathom why.
"Her heartless face is so hot! Hi Nami! It's me, Sanji! Let's run away together!"
"CAN IT ROMEO. This isn't the time OR the place for that," Zoro growls.
"Excuse me, love is like a hurricane. So back off. HEY—" The chef is starting to make him physically ill. Ignoring him completely, Zoro turns his attention back to Nami.
"Nami, where is Usopp?"
"With the fishes."
"DAMN IT. Cut the crap!" He runs at her with a hand firmly on the hilt of his sword, but it's only for show. The shitty cook intervenes, and he's forced to draw his blade on instinct.
"How sad," Sanji drawls around a puff of his cigarette. "A swordsman striking a lady."
"IDIOT. Can't you see what's happening here? You're starting to piss me off!"
Zoro wasn't going to hurt her. Why couldn't the fucking Casanova figure that much out? If Nami wanted to keep playing her role as a villain, the swordsman would match her in kind. She is doing everything in her power to push them away. Zoro was fucking tired of it and was prepared to force the answers he needed out of her if he had to.
But this goddamn ignoramus couldn't keep his nose out of it.
Sanji chuckles. "If someone had stopped me that easily, I'd be mad too."
"What." Zoro's speaking through his teeth. "You. Should. Watch. Your. Mouth."
"I'll say whatever I want. Bastard."
Yosaku materializes beside them and frantically urges a cease-fire. It isn't until Nami speaks up again that Zoro steps back and re-sheathes his blade.
"Your pal's right. Now quit your bickering and leave while you still can. You outsiders have no right to butt into this island's affairs. Don't you get it yet?"
Zoro decides to block out the rest of her speech; he's heard a variant of this same tangent before. He tunes back in when Luffy abruptly sprawls out on the road and naps. Pressing his palm against his forehead, Zoro sighs in frustrated disbelief. Why did every situation he was in with these people always end up in disarray?
𖣘𖣘𖣘
"—Hey! Big bro Zoro!"
From his cross-legged spot on the road, the swordsman tosses the pair of bounty hunters a bored glance.
"What on earth are you thinking?!" Johnny prods frantically. "Come on!"
Yosaku adds, "Did you forget that Arlong is out to kill us?! We should be running away!"
"Now that we know what Nami is really like, there isn't a single good reason we should stay on this island."
"My reason for staying, is there." He gestures his head towards his captain.
"I'm staying 'cause he's staying." It was the truth, and yet it wasn't. He was staying for Luffy, but a small, not-so-microscopic part of him was staying for her, too. He wasn't content with leaving things where they were for some inexplicable reason.
"Don't be stupid, big bro Zoro. Are you saying you want to bring her back too?"
"What I want has nothing to do with this. I don't decide who the navigator is. He does."
"Big bro…" Johnny silently deliberates. Eventually, he relents: "Right. Understood. You're not leaving. Sorry to cut our reunion short, but I won't stay. My role as guide ends here."
Yosaku agrees with his partner.
Unburdened, Zoro swivels his focus back to them. "Fine, I'll see you around."
The swordsman's instincts tell him they're not actually leaving, but he won't spoil their dramatic departure.
A warm island breeze sweeps across the road. Zoro's nose wrinkles in distaste when the smell of cigarette smoke lingers. He needs to start getting used to the scent; the damn cook isn't going anywhere.
"Hey," Sanji calls out. "Well, what do you think it is? Why was she crying?"
Zoro's spine goes rigid. Had he been so focused on Luffy then that he missed tears in her eyes when she ran away? The thought turns his stomach.
Forcing himself to relax, Zoro answers: "I don't know. Was she crying?"
"She was in her heart," the cook reveals.
Zoro scowls at that. It's starting to irk him that this blond bastard is paying more attention to Nami than he is. "Tch. If there were, they were tears of guilt for killing Usopp."
"Yeah, right. Are you serious? You really are dense." The swordsman scoffs at that. The only dense person here is the shitty cook who unknowingly let Nami con him out of countless free meals.
"Do you still honestly believe that Nami could've killed Usopp?" Clearly not, but he has no intentions of telling the man this. Instead, he decides to conjure up a reason to draw his sword. And the best way to do that is to set up the love cook.
"So Nami didn't kill him? Is that what you're saying?"
"Am I wrong?" Sanji counters.
"Well, who knows?" He shrugs for show. "I always thought of her as kind of a small-time crook who wouldn't even watch a guy die, let alone kill him." He adds, "But maybe she just snapped," for a dash of flare.
"Wait. What'cha say?!" Veins pop across the blond's forehead, and his rising bloodlust has the swordsman's hackles lifting again.
"SHE'S NOT SMALL TIME!"
Sanji starts charging, and Zoro jumps into action just as fast.
"Is she all you think about?!" He growls.
Instead of each other, Usopp takes the brunt of their attack. The silver lining in all of this is that Usopp is alive. Just as Zoro had predicted he would be.
The swordsman folds his arms as he watches his captain dramatically cradle Usopp in his arms. It's a comical sight. When Usopp finally springs back to life, Zoro gives the trio a minute to exchange greetings before steering them back on course.
"Oh, and by the way, we kinda' heard you were dead—killed by Nami."
"Huh?" The sharpshooter gaps.
Luffy rockets to his feet. "Stupid Johnny! He was spouting nonsense that entire time."
"Well," Usopp begins. "In a way, that is the truth. But I'm alive, 'cause you see, she actually saved my life."
Zoro called it.
𖣘𖣘𖣘
"So that's it. That's how Nami pretended to kill me and make sure I could escape from Arlong Park." Usopp finishes recounting.
"Looks to me like she's got some sort of hidden motive for hanging out with a bunch of renegade fishmen." Zoro doesn't understand why Usopp looks directly at him when he reveals this.
"Obviously," Sanji grumbles.
"Fine. What next? We gonna destroy Arlong Park?"
Zoro's a little disappointed. Usopp immediately shoots his idea down.
"WOAH! Hang on just a second!" The sharpshooter flails his arms desperately. "Don't you think we better find out what's going on with Nami first?"
"—It's no use either way."
They all turn to see a blue-haired woman with tattoos standing a few meters away. "No matter what you guys do, Arlong's rule won't come to an end."
"Nojiko," Usopp responds in surprise.
"Who's she?" Their captain demands, confused.
"Nami's big sister," Usopp reveals.
Zoro rolls his eyes as the blond womanizer fawns over Nami's sister. The swordsman doesn't see the resemblance.
Ignoring the cook, Zoro presses: "What do you mean that it's no use?"
"Just trust me. Don't get yourselves involved in what's going on here. And leave poor Nami alone. I'll explain the situation."
It was about time they got some fucking answers.
Zoro isn't surprised that Luffy doesn't want to hear about Nami's past. But his captain's blind faith in their crew's character is one of the reasons Luffy makes such a great captain. He's tempted to leave as well, but he chooses to stay. Deep down, he knows he'll regret it if he doesn't listen to her story. Given their history, he feels he owes her at least that much.
"We'll hear you out," Zoro sits against a tree and settles in for a nap. "Though I can tell you right now, I don't think it'll change anything."
"From the beginning, then," Nojiko starts. "It all goes back to eight years ago. Up until that day, when we were still little children, she lived here in the village. Nami and I will never forget her as long as we live. Her name was Belle-mère."
𖣘𖣘𖣘
Hearing Nami's backstory gives Zoro new context to those faraway, determined looks he initially used to observe on her face. Knowing what he knows now and seeing what he's seen, Zoro wonders if her reasons still don't matter.
He's still angry with her, but he is also so incredibly fucking proud of her. No child should ever have to go through what she went through. He remembers how gutsy she had been when he first met her inside Buggy's domain. It makes complete sense now. She had the guts to sacrifice herself for the sake of the town she held dear. Why wouldn't she have the gumption to snuff out a cannon flame with her own two hands? Like him, she had sworn an oath to someone and was willing to die to keep her promise. Their circumstances might have been different, but they were both once children trying to beat unworkable odds. They were dissimilar, and yet, the same. Compatible opposites, him and her.
𖣘𖣘𖣘
Witnessing Nami intentionally spill her own blood is gut-wrenching. After the first stab through her skin, Zoro forces himself to look away. This is a moment she wants no one else to see; he will respect that. After Zoro had lost against Mihawk, he didn't want anyone to see him cry. Luffy was the singular exception. He has a feeling it will be the same for her. The only person they trust enough to see them at their weakest point is their captain.
So he waits.
The anguished wails and the sobs that follow chip away at his sanity little by little—there's liquid anger burning through his blood and this unquestionable thirst for vengeance. The hold he has around his Wado Ichimonji is suffocatingly tight. He feels murderous. He's beyond ready for a fight when Luffy announces they're leaving.
𖣘𖣘𖣘
Their entrance is dynamic. But that's to be expected.
Zoro assesses the damage Luffy has caused as he walks in through the destroyed side entrance. Not bad.
When he joins his comrades, it's to the sounds of Usopp's posturing.
"I see you're rearing to go as usual," the swordsman notes with sarcasm.
The sharpshooter doesn't respond. Instead, the timid, long-nosed man does his best to keep his legs from shaking. Snorting under his breath, Zoro moves forward to stand beside his captain. In his peripherals, he can see Sanji removing his tie as Luffy cracks his knuckles. It's a telling, yet comical, sight to behold.
Facing Arlong again, Zoro straightens his spine and compresses his grip around the hilt of his sword. It's a real shame he doesn't get to chop Arlong up as initially planned. But it's probably for the best. Luffy deserves the right to punch that saw-nosed fucker into the ground. Zoro will happily settle on taking out the rest.
"The girl is mine, and I'm not giving her up!" Arlong cackles wickedly. Hearing those words grates on the swordsman's nerves. What pisses him off, however, is discovering that the shitty cook got an opportunity to beat up a monster before he did. For a moment, Zoro thinks he might have gotten lucky when Arlong threatens the sea-beast into action. He nudges the hilt of his katana up with his thumb in preparation.
"You're all mine, ya' dumb cow!" Luffy proclaims while shoving his feet into the stone poolside.
"Look's like he's got a plan, for once…" Sanji shares.
"Let's see," Zoro grips his chin in doubt. "I've got a bad feeling about this."
His feelings were never wrong.
As Luffy contorts his torso into a tightly wound corkscrew, that familiar feeling of ice-cold dread slides down Zoro's spine.
"Hey, let's get out of here!" He warns the cook.
"What's he gonna do?!"
"I'm not sure if I want to find out!"
They flee just in time. Zoro starts to feel a microbe bit bad for that sea cow. Getting spun around and launched through the sky must be traumatic and mortifying.
From this point on, their advantage shrinks.
Luffy's bright decision to encase his legs in stone makes it impossible for him to escape when it counts. Aside from getting blasted with oil and nearly crushed by one of the awnings, the real danger comes from being thrown in the pool. To make matters worse, before they can save him, Zoro and Sanji must defeat an octopus and a pig-tailed fishman, respectively.
Rushing the octopus, Zoro's unhappy that his first cut doesn't immediately behead the fishman. He supposes that ruining the fishman's crazy hairdo is a good start.
Unfortunately, time isn't on his side here. Besides rescuing Luffy, Zoro can't afford a drawn-out battle with his injury. It seems he has even less time than he initially thought. That excruciating, unbearable pain is back with a vengeance. The fever scorching through his skin makes his vision wane.
His body can't keep up with his gravitas, it seems.
Ultimately, it's probably for the best that the octopus mistook his collapse for a sign of death. It gives Zoro enough time to reorient and remember why he's here in the first place. He promised Luffy that he wouldn't ever lose again. But that wasn't his only motivator. Seeing that pretty, brave girl collapsed on the ground and sobbing isn't a sight he ever wants repeated.
"Way of six blades? What a loser." It's a muted battle cry, Zoro supposes. He forces himself to breathe through the pain and carefully returns to his feet.
"Let me make this clear for you, you sorry excuse for a swordsman. There's a certain man I have to face, and until I see him: Death himself cannot touch me."
𖣘𖣘𖣘
Hearing Luffy scream from the top of his lungs that Nami will always be his friend is the sign Zoro needs to know that the battle is finally over. After beating up some mouse-looking marine motherfucker, the swordsman is ready to drink booze and cash in on his long overdue rest. He's deserved it. But first, he needs some new stitches and to give his captain a good whack in the head. Zoro can't believe he was gullible enough to fall for Luffy's "made-you-look-prank." It's so embarrassing.
His eyes trail past Luffy's smug grin and over to the navigator. This is the first time he's heard her laugh since she left weeks ago. It's nice to see.
I guess I'll let this one go.
𖣘𖣘𖣘
"Zoro."
It's the whisper of his name that wakes him. Alert eyes open to stare up at the ceiling of Dr. Mako's clinic in confusion. Above his head, a slanted beam of moonlight shines through the small window over his cot. It's quiet. Calm. No sense of danger permeates the night air. By all accounts, his surroundings are at peace. And yet…he feels restless. Anticipation grazes his nerves as his ears strain to listen to everything hidden beneath the silence. The aroma of tangerines, sun-kissed sea salt, and the distinctly metallic tang of dried blood tickles his nose. Soft, hitched breathing he knows so intimately well brushes over his ears. Every muscle encasing the vertebrate inside his spine tenses. All the oxygen plummets from his lungs with a single, shaky exhale.
Nami.
She's here, on the other side of the clinic wall from him, and he doesn't know how to feel. He sits up with some difficulty. This is the closest distance that's existed between them since she kissed him underwater and later cut him loose from his cell. It's also the first time they've been alone—completely alone— in a long while. The last time…
Zoro closes his eyes and wills the memories of her mid-rapture away from his consciousness with little success. Something about their sex that night had been different. Was it the way she clung to him so desperately? Or how he instinctively anchored her against his chest more securely in response? Maybe it was how she swept her fingers across his face with abnormal tenderness when she thought he had been asleep. He knows better now. Those differences had likely been her version of a goodbye.
It was one hell of a goodbye too. She had whispered such dirty confessions and wants to him; his blood had been roaring in his ears. He recalls they had practically fucked all night. Zoro had never slept so well the following day. Her departure after such a night had stung.
Nami's breathless and muted "Zoro?" forcefully tugs him back to the present. Sweat is suddenly stippling his forehead, and there's this uncomfortable but all too familiar stiffness in his groin that causes him to swear.
"Are you fucking serious right now?!" He snarls down at his crotch with contempt. "Go away." He was supposed to still be mad at her, and this damn organ had the audacity to greet her as if nothing was wrong.
A sharp, wounded inhale on the other side of the wall has Zoro freezing. Fuck, I said that out loud?! Goddamnit.
"Message received," Nami spits out thinly. "I…I won't bother you ever again."
She's trying her hardest not to reveal just how much his inadvertent words are hurting her—he hears it in her vocal quiver and FUCK. This isn't how he wanted their next conversation to go.
Zoro hits the back of his head against the wall in helpless frustration.
The sounds of her heeled sandals scraping against the dirt accompany the dull tap of one of her hands bracing against the wall. She's moving to stand up and leave. He can feel a minor shock of discomfort snap against his skin.
"Fuck. Wait! I…I didn't mean that—" It's humiliating how badly he stumbles over his tongue to get the words out.
"Sounded pretty genuine to me," she retorts with a margin of bitterness.
"For fucks sake…It wasn't for you."
"Then who was it for?" Her voice is heavily saturated in skepticism, and he can mentally picture the annoyed notch in her brows.
"There was a bug on my bed."
"A bug?"
"Yeah," he sends his traitorous dick a glare saturated in detest. "A big one that has no respect for me."
"Oh…" she responds awkwardly.
Zoro lets out a measured breath to get his shit under control. "What do you want, Nami?"
"Thank you for helping me save my village." She's respectfully curt and straight to the point, "I owe you."
"Don't thank me, thank Luffy." He grunts, "And you don't owe me anything. Luffy's the one that wanted to get involved. I just followed my captain." He's attempting to reinforce the line that was drawn earlier. But it's a pathetic, frail attempt with only one purpose. To keep her and his potential feelings for her at arm's length.
"I did," she supplies. "I thanked the others, too: Sanji, Usopp, Yosaku, and Johnny."
He's the last one? Something about being prioritized after the womanizing chef doesn't sit well with him. He's known her longer than the shit cook has; what gives?
"That so?" There's a fiber of annoyance laced through the words.
The scrape of heels in the dirt drifts noisily through the open window, but unlike the first time, it gives him the sense she's moving to sit down.
Silence shrouds them. Zoro doesn't know where to go from here, so he waits.
Eventually, Nami softly calls him by name again.
"Zoro…?"
Apprehension slides down the back of his throat, "Hn?"
"I'm sorry I hurt you," she whispers candidly. "But I'm not sorry that I left. I would do it again if I were given the choice." He understands her psyche well enough now to know that she would.
"I know," he answers. There's no malice or anger in his voice—just acceptance.
"I would understand if you hated me after this…" Her voice is small and fearful, but a narrow band of resoluteness lines her words. "But I hope you don't."
He can't see the expression on her face. But he can imagine her sitting in front of him for a moment. There wouldn't be any hesitation in her eyes, regardless of how nervous she might be—just patience…and maybe a little trepidation. In the end, it doesn't matter what the expression on her face would be. What he hears in her voice is enough.
This entanglement he shares with Nami has irrevocably changed his perception of things. He can no longer be impartial regarding anything she's involved in. Arlong Park has proven that.
He doesn't love her. But he cares for her. More than any other woman in his life. Maybe even more than Kuina if given enough time. That is, admittedly, rather scary.
Swallowing uncomfortably, Zoro exhales a weighted breath through his nose.
"I don't hate you, Nami." It's the truth. "I'm still pissed. You betrayed my trust and stole our ship. Abandoned my friends in the water. It's going to take time for me to trust you again fully. But I will. We'll get through this. Just don't ever fucking do something like this again. I mean it."
A shuddered gasp of relief leaves her chest, "I know." Her I promise, goes unsaid.
Quiet returns.
Nami gets up to leave, and Zoro feels some mild discomfort tangling up in his chest. They've said all they needed to say for right now. There's no apparent reason for her to hang back with him still. And yet, ludicrously, he doesn't want to say goodnight. Even if it's just for a moment, he wants her to stay. Words escape him.
He expects her to leave, but she stalls, too. Nervously, Nami admits, "I missed you, Zoro."
Her revelation punches the air from his lungs. His knuckles whiten around the fistful of bedding he didn't realize he was clutching. She's smudged the line they've drawn and taken a step over it. A spot of panic sets in. Does he tell her the truth? Or does he acknowledge that he's heard her? This is new, emotional territory for him. Whatever he says here feels like a loaded confirmation that he cares about her. Admitting this is equivalent to gutting himself out in the open. He doesn't do this: emotions and heart-to-hearts. Will he regret this decision later on if he makes the wrong choice?
Kuina's grave flashes across his corneas, making his spine rigid. Fuck. He hates this.
Zoro decides to step over the line, too.
Awkwardly, he forces out the words, "I...I missed…you too."
Nami sounds like she just choked on her tongue from the shock of his confession, and Zoro can feel his cheeks warming in embarrassment. He's never told anyone he's missed them before; he has never been close enough to anyone to warrant such sentiments, either.
But it was true. He fucking missed her.
It wasn't just the sex he missed. It was their banter and her sass. Her spontaneous quips. The amused and exasperated roll of her eyes that she only ever directed at him. Those afternoons when she'd be reading on her sun chair, covertly sneaking glances at him as he trained, and he would pretend not to notice. He missed having someone to share his frustrations with whenever his captain was doing something moronic. He missed her companionship when they'd lay next to one another in comfortable silence after multiple rounds of fucking. He missed having her patch him up after he got hurt. He just missed her.
There's an uncomfortable lump in this throat.
Nami finally speaks after an agonizing couple of minutes, "G-Get some rest."
"You…You too."
It isn't until she leaves that he feels like he can finally breathe again.
𖣘𖣘𖣘
The sway of his hammock does minimal to lull Zoro to sleep. He's been staring up at the paneled wood ceiling for what's felt like hours. His mind is blank, but his body is restless. Every nerve is alive and reactive beneath his skin. Zoro tries to analyze why.
He thinks of Nami again. Remembers the conversation they had four nights ago through the clinic window. There's a lot to unpack and a lot left unsaid. Since she left Baratie, there's been this biting urge for a confrontation. They've come close several times, but the urge is left unfulfilled. There was that moment in the cell, but it was transitory. Then there was that kiss underwater—where he had poured all of his anger into her mouth, and she had reciprocated equally in kind. But that kiss had been a weak salve to put over emotional wounds. It was a temporary fix. That kiss had also been before he knew the true story behind her tattoo. Before Johnny had seen her 'kill' Usopp. Before, he had witnessed her brutally stab her arm. Before they vulnerably admitted they missed each other.
Where do they go from here?
Things are still somewhat tense between them. They haven't spoken a word to one another since the clinic. Not really, anyway. His only interaction with her has been a few fleeting glances in passing over the last three days. Their…entanglement…hasn't been addressed either. If sex was the only component of their relationship that mattered to him, would he still be feeling this conflicted? Zoro doesn't know.
Over the last three days, he realized his anger towards Nami had changed. Softened. It's been nearly depleted. He's still mad at her for how she left. But not so much for why she left. If anything, he's more pissed at the forces behind why she left. Even now, the impulse to sail back to a destroyed Arlong Park and make sure the Fishmen never find her again still runs strong beneath his pulse.
He still needs time to trust her again completely…but he suspects the amount of time won't take very long. She'll be much harsher on herself after this than he ever will be. He can see it in her eyes and in how she walks. As far as he's concerned, Nami's already atoned.
Fuck, he scrubs his face with his hands. All this thinking has only made the restlessness worse. He needs some physical exertion to fix this. Would Dr. Mako agree with this decision of his? Probably not. The old man would have a conniption. But the swordsman knows that he's fine now. Giving up on sleep entirely, Zoro decides to go up on deck and train. He fetches his Wado Ichimonji and climbs the mast pegs to the deck. The night air is nice and cool on his skin—it brings up memories of that moment with Nami on the rear cannon deck. He has this sudden desire to see her again.
Not tonight, he orders himself. His feet don't listen, and he finds himself on a recognizable path across the deck to the storage room door.
Zoro's lips pull back into a faint snarl. He can't believe how little control he has over his body. Only rigorous training would fix this.
The swordsman arches a wary glance up towards the crow's nest where Usopp is on duty. The long-nosed sniper has his back to him. Zoro takes it as a fortuitous sign to slip inside. He will only check on her and ensure she hasn't decided to flee again. It's a pathetic excuse, but he'll take it over, forcing himself to admit again that he misses her. Zoro enters the storage room and closes the door behind him. His eyes adjust quickly to the darkness, and he moves stealthily inward. A limited sphere of moonlight is being fed in through the exterior door's window, and it offers a minor luminance. He doesn't need it, but Zoro will take it nonetheless. He crouches beside the hatch door on the floor that leads to Nami's room. He's spent so many nights there that it feels weird not to go inside immediately.
Zoro imagines Nami asleep at her desk beneath the stairs. Some nights, he'd find her there, waiting for him. He'd carefully pick her up and carry her to bed. Without fail, she'd always wake up in the middle of her transportation. She'd greet him with a kiss, and their lips would fight for dominance as they sank together into the couch. The acquaintanceship with these moments puts a different ache in his chest than he's used to. Ignoring it, Zoro settles the fingers of his right hand over the hatch door handle.
The swordsman reminds himself of his objective here: to go down, ensure she's there, and immediately leave. Putting some strength into his fingers, he starts to lift the handle. Without warning, the bathroom door swings open while he gets the hatch door partially raised.
Like some heavenly nymph, Nami appears through parting clouds of steam. Her cheeks and lips are flushed prettily from the heat of her recent bath. She's dressed in clothes that leave little to Zoro's imagination—a top with threadlike straps and this pair of tiny shorts. The navigator scrunches excess water from her hair with a towel, and Zoro doesn't know where to look first. Still in shock, all the strength leaves his fingers. The hatch door shuts abruptly, and the noise causes Nami to jump.
Her attention snaps to him in alarm, and she freezes like a skittish animal. The swordsman opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to form words that will reasonably explain why he's there. No words come out. She can't find any either.
The moonlight through the window behind him creates an appealing spotlight on her. Captivated, Zoro passes his gaze over her at a sloth's pace. He wants to commit everything about her in this moment to memory. She's fucking ethereal. Drops of water hang from damp strands of her dark orange hair. He watches a few drops fall against her right cheek and slide down to trace the curve of her jaw. These drops converged on her chin and descended, drawing a tantalizing squiggle down the pale column of her throat before gliding across her clavicles. When the trail passes her sternum and disappears between the valley of her breasts, Zoro swallows the helpless groan that's been lingering in the back of his throat. The fabric of her camisole is thin—it does very little to mask the pebbled nubs her areolas have transformed into. Saliva wets his gums, anticipating taking those twin rosebuds into his mouth again.
Famished eyes drift down curves and smooth, long legs. They stop at her bare feet. When they lift towards her head, his eyes catch on her upper left arm, and his breathing falters. The swordfish is gone. In its place is a jagged scar encircled delicately by a beautiful pinwheel with a tangerine. Her new tattoo is a declaration. A symbol. A promise. Pride surges in his chest.
Nami's eyes follow him as he returns to standing on his feet. She resumes toweling off her hair; he thinks it's a subconscious effort to distract herself. His attention returns to her new tattoo.
"Did it hurt?" It's a rhetorical question. He knows that it did.
She pauses, drying, and briefly shifts her gaze to him. Then, she continues her task. Nami's lips twist into a small, charming smile; there's a glint of playfulness in her eyes that he's missed. "I've been through worse."
She turns his rhetorical question back on him and tips her chin toward his chest. Towards the gnarly wound, Mihawk had ripped through his skin. The very same wound that stole the air from her lungs and the color from her skin when she saw all the bandages. He recalls the unshed tears that had washed over her eyes before her mask fell into place. "Did it hurt?" She knows it did.
A crooked grin offsets his mouth. "I've survived worse."
Nami's smile widens. After a moment, she stops toweling and sends him a questioning look: Why are you here? it reads.
He quirks a brow at her. Her eyes roll, and a thrill electrifies his senses.
The silence between them is loaded. There's impatience, expectation, and desire.
The navigator runs a hand through her tousled, damp hair, and the swordsman follows the motions, bewitched. She closes the bathroom door and hangs her towel on one of the drying pegs nearby with an unnatural amount of slowness. When she turns, their eyes lock, and their interspace vanishes like countless times before.
Their lips collide like two different air pressures in a millisecond, and this resplendent storm forms in the middle. Lightening erupts behind his eyes, and shocks of pleasure prickle each of his synaptic nerves every time their skin connects. It's too much sensation and yet, simultaneously, not nearly enough. He wants more. He feels starved. They're not close enough.
Zoro's grip around her hips slackens, and he wraps both arms tightly around her waist and upper back to tow her body flush against him. She lets out this contented little gasp that shoots straight to his cock. Nami responds by throwing her arms around his neck, and the feeling of her fingers knotting in his hair has him exhaling a satisfied growl against her bottom lip. He sucks her bottom lip into his mouth and nibbles on it teasingly. Her back arches, and it pushes her breasts tighter against his chest. This action accidentally slides their pelvis' together, and the alignment is so perfect all of the air is sucked out of his lungs. Fireworks explode vibrantly behind his eyes. One of her feet slips on the wet, wood floor, and he leans too far forward in a failed attempt to balance them again. They stumble over one another's feet and crash together against the bathroom wall with a loud thud.
Reality hits with the same intensity as waves ramming into the shore. Their lips roughly tear apart, and it's hard for him to hear anything over the sound of his blood hammering in his ears. She's breathing just as hard as him and looks equally shocked. There's a little dash of panic mixing in with the lust clouding her brown eyes. Her attention slips past his shoulder to the door that leads out onto the deck. He presses a finger to his lips, and she can only nod in agreement.
They wait, crowded up against each other, for five agonizing minutes.
The mutual sigh of relief they exhale when everything seems fine is deafening. She finds his stare in the darkness and holds it. That restlessness he had felt earlier in his hammock has returned and tripled in force. It has such a suffocating grasp around his heart; right now, she's his only salvation.
The unwavering understanding that's flashing through her pupil-blown eyes. The comforting feeling of her skin caressing his. Her smell—this unmistakable brew of tangerines, sunshine, sea salt, and crisp parchment.
Every reason he had given himself for not continuing their entanglement over the last few weeks has been silenced after this moment.
Zoro makes another choice.
He steps fully over that smudged, hastily drawn line, and she's right there waiting for him. His mouth slams against hers with urgency. Nami meets every aggressive kiss with a harsh desperation of her own. Their limbs tangle as they earnestly try to eradicate every crevice of space between them. This is their long-awaited confrontation.
Zoro finishes a tongue-twisting kiss before pulling back to admire his handiwork. She looks just like she did that first night on the dinghy. Lips swollen, eyes hooded, cheeks flushed, and breath labored. His dick thickens. He's tempted to go back in and kiss her senseless, but there's so much more of her he needs to rediscover.
He dips his head to briefly peck kisses along her jaw, following the path those crystal drops had taken earlier. His mouth descends beneath her chin, and the kisses he peppers down her throat are slow and savoring. Zoro glides his lips lower, and he dedicates a moment to lap up the remaining drops of water that have fallen from her hair. He recalls that her scent is the strongest at the juncture of her neck and collarbones. He takes a moment to inhale her scent and enjoy how it unfurls in his lungs like smoke. When satisfied, he continues his journey—pressing open-mouthed kisses across her clavicles before his lips sink lower still. They stop to mouth along the neckline of her camisole.
Her hands unsnarled from his hair to wrap around his right wrist. She drags his hand right to the apex of her thighs and widens her legs in invitation.
Zoro smiles knowingly against her skin: this is the version of Nami that he knows best. Amused eyes lift briefly to take in the expectant gaze and flush dusting high across her cheekbones. Her lower lip was pinched between her teeth, and the habit sent a thrill jogging down his spine. He's fucking missed this.
The swordsman obliges. He hooks one of her knees over his left forearm and plants his palm firmly against the wall. Then his right-hand slips inside those tiny, unfairly sexy shorts.
Nami's breath hitched in anticipation, and his eyes tracked the changes in her face as he slid in one finger and then two. Her inner walls hug his fingers with a fierce tightness that he's yearned nearly every day for. His cock twitches in jealousy; it's ready to be embraced too.
With habitual meticulousness, he slowly begins scissoring her open. The pads of his fingers curl to press against hidden places on her walls that he knows will make her shake. Her entire body shudders beautifully. He brushes his thumb across the bundle of nerves, crowning her opening, and her reaction doesn't disappoint. A strangled moan slips from her lips as the back of her head knocks against the wall. One of her hands tries to find purchase around a towel peg higher up. Her other holds on to the back of his neck for dear life.
She's falling apart relatively fast tonight; he's entranced. Curious. How much farther can he push her until she shatters? He hopes to find out quickly since he has no restraint left.
Zoro uses his teeth to carefully roll one of her nipples into his mouth through the dampening fabric of her camisole. Simultaneously, he adds a third finger and thumbs mercilessly at her clit.
Her nails dig into the skin of his neck with piercing intensity. He wouldn't have it any other way. He craves this kind of delicious pain that only her pleasure can bring.
"You fucking bast—" a breathless, high-octave gasp swallows up her curse as his speed jumps again. It's been so long since he's had her willingly give up control like this…such power is dangerous.
His grin is downright feral. He switches to her other breast and slows the pace of his fingers. Her whine is a mixture of relief and frustration. Knocking her head against the wall repeatedly, Nami glowers down at him.
Zoro relents; he's played with her enough. He swiftly removes his fingers and lowers her leg. He moves to wipe the hand on his shirt haphazardly, but the navigator does something outrageous first. She kidnaps his hand and puts all three fingers in her mouth to clean them herself. It's her revenge, and the swordsman can't remember the last time he was this hard. The agony is brutal.
"That's filthy," he gutturally says. But there's no malice or disgust—just an unbridled thirst for more.
Her eyes sparkle mischievously in the darkness.
She kittenishly licks the tips of his fingers as she releases them with an audible pop.
"Not as wet as I thought they'd be…have you lost your touch?"
Nami goes right for his pride, and Zoro despises how well her plan works at riling him up again. So, she wanted a whole fight this time?
Her pupils swell more in excitement, and a dark chuckle slips out behind his smile in response. He's more than ready for a fight.
He surges forward to kiss her; it's his declaration of combat. She responds to his challenge in kind with a strategic lick along the roof of his mouth. As their tongues battle for dominance, he removes his Wado Ichimonji. Zoro separates from her just long enough to carefully set the katana in the corner. Then he's back on her with renewed vigor. The swordsman traps her between the wall and his larger body, purposefully restricting her movements. She's pinned for a while, and he's convinced he's gotten the upper hand. Until the infuriating woman does what thieves do best, she breaks through his secure defenses with graceful flare. One of her hands has made its way under both his haramaki and his shirt. Then she grabs ahold of one of his nipples and twists. He snarls at the retaliation. Zoro pins the offending arm behind her back, and she grins fiendishly against his lips in response.
The pair wrestle. Nami gets the upper hand, and he lets her—one of her feet knocks swiftly into the backs of his knees, and Zoro winds up on his back. The navigator straddles him with a victorious grin. He snorts softly.
Together, they tug down his pants and haramaki. She slides her shorts aside and lines herself up next. Then she sinks, torturously slow.
Zoro takes measured breaths as he enters her one centimeter at a time. The sensation is even better than he remembers. He won't last long. She's right there with him; he can feel every tremble in her body radiate into his.
When he's finally entirely inside her, his lungs nearly give out. He has to force himself to breathe. He's so worked up right now he could come just from this alone.
Nami's quickening breath grazes his ear. There's a wanton moan on the tip of her tongue that has an intense shiver jogging down his spine. She removes one of her hands from where they're fisted against his belly button and takes his right hand. She presses it against her left breast hard enough to feel her heartbeat beneath her skin. The navigator slides her right hand up his chest and lays it across his left pectoral. Their heartbeats jump in unison and settle at a steady, parallel pace. He doesn't know what this intimate gesture means. He thinks it's her way of telling him she cares about him, too. Surprisingly, he can't say it bothers him all that much. He brings her injured hand to his mouth and plants a kiss on her palm. It's not a declaration of love…but the swordsman surmises it could be interpreted as a confession of feeling. He's attached to her. He's proud of her. Being locked together like this again feels like a long-awaited reunion.
Planting his feet firmly on the wood paneling, Zoro follows the way Nami rises on shaky knees before pistoning his pelvis back into hers as she drops down. They work together in a familiar, seamless flow of movement that hoists them to the pinnacle of pleasure before they crash over the orgasmic edge side by side.
He blacks out for a moment. That's new, but Zoro can't say he hates the rush of sensation. He winces a little as she torpidly lifts herself off of him. Nami gets up on shaky legs and disappears into the bathroom once more. Tiredly, Zoro stares up at the ceiling while he catches his breath. He associates this boneless feeling in all four of his limbs with utter satisfaction. It's great. He's starting to fall asleep.
"Don't fall asleep there," Nami nags in fond exasperation. Her words are followed by a wet towel slapping him across the face. Annoyed, Zoro removes the towel and glares up at the delectable navigator. Nami nudges one of his shins impatiently with her foot.
"What do you want, woman?" He grumbles while sitting up.
"Clean yourself up," she orders. "You're not joining me on the couch like that."
The swordsman's lips twitch into the beginnings of a smile. "We continuing this then?"
He runs the pleasantly cold towel over his face and down the back of his neck as he waits for her answer.
Nami puts on an air of insouciance, "That's up to you."
The navigator opens the hatch door and descends without another word. Grinning, Zoro wipes himself down and sets the towel aside. He makes a mental note to wash it in the morning. With his Wado Ichimonji in hand, he heads down the stairs into Nami's room and latches the hatch door behind him.
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