Brand New Ending
What if Zoro, the fierce swordsman, found himself as a single dad? A tale of unexpected bonds, lost dreams, and the journey to rebuild what was broken.
Chapter 1
The late afternoon sun filtered through the dense canopy of the woods, casting dappled patterns of light onto the clearing. At the heart of the clearing stood a modest wooden cabin, its walls weathered but sturdy. This was the village's schoolhouse, a quiet place now that the children had all gone home.
On a wooden bench just outside the cabin, a young girl sat engrossed in a large book. Her legs dangled over the edge, her small feet swinging idly. Her short green hair, cut just to her ears, swayed lightly in the breeze. She wore a simple but neatly kept outfit. Her expression was intense, her brow furrowed as her small finger traced the words on the page.
Near the edge of the clearing, the teacher swept leaves from the pathway. Her hands moved with practiced ease, but her gaze kept drifting to the girl on the bench. She smiled softly and paused her work for a moment, leaning on the broom handle. Most children would have been worried by now, maybe even in tears, their little faces scrunched in panic as they imagined all the worst reasons their parents hadn't arrived. It wasn't unusual for the sensei to have to comfort a straggler or two, reassuring them that their families wouldn't forget them. But this girl was different.
She wasn't scared or upset. In fact, she hardly seemed to notice the passing time. She sat calmly on the bench, her legs swinging idly and her attention entirely absorbed in the oversized book on her lap. She was used to this. Her father was never on time. He was always late. But to her, that wasn't something to worry about—it was just the way things were.
There was a quiet certainty about her, an unshakable trust that he would come, no matter how long it took. It was as though she had long ago accepted his tardiness as part of who he was, and instead of fretting, she made the most of the time she had while waiting.
The sound of leaves crunching underfoot echoed softly from the forest path. A tall figure emerged from between the trees, his broad shoulders and swords at his side unmistakable. His green hair was slightly disheveled, and his single visible eye held an apologetic look that seemed as much a part of him as the scars that marked his chest and face. Zoro had arrived, albeit late—again.
Sakura-sensei noticed him first. "Kuina" she called gently, leaning on her broom as she nodded toward the approaching figure. "Your father's here."
Kuina's head snapped up, her eyes sparkling with recognition. She didn't hesitate for even a second. Closing her book with a satisfying thump, she quickly shoved it into her oversized backpack, her small hands moving with practiced efficiency.
"Bye, Sakura-sensei!" she chirped, hopping off the bench. The words were thrown over her shoulder as she dashed toward her father.
Zoro crouched slightly as she reached him, her hand immediately finding his. His large, calloused fingers closed around hers with a gentleness that seemed almost out of place for a man with such a rugged appearance.
"Sorry I'm late," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. It was a phrase he had uttered countless times before, yet it carried the same note of sincerity every time. Zoro gave Sakura-sensei a small nod, acknowledging her with a quiet, "Thanks for watching her."
With that, he and Kuina turned toward the forest path. Hand in hand, they began their walk home. The woods were serene, the late afternoon sun filtering through the canopy above, casting dappled light onto the winding trail.
After a few moments of silence, Kuina tilted her head up to him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Did you get lost again, Daddy?"
Zoro frowned, the corner of his mouth twitching in annoyance. "No" he replied curtly, though the faintest hint of defensiveness crept into his tone.
Kuina grinned, clearly not convinced. "Are you sure? Last time, it took you an hour to find the school."
"That was... different" Zoro said, avoiding her gaze.
"Hmm." She pretended to think, then added, "Did you forget the song?"
Zoro blinked, his brow furrowing. "What song?"
"You know! The 'Left and Right' song!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with playful exasperation. Letting go of his hand, she spun in front of him, facing him with her arms spread wide. "If you sing the song, you won't forget which way to go!"
Zoro crossed his arms, his expression flat. "I don't need a song. I know the way."
Kuina raised an eyebrow, her look far too knowing for a five-year-old. "Really?"
Zoro opened his mouth to argue but stopped, realizing he didn't have a good excuse. With a resigned sigh, he muttered, "Fine. What's the song?"
Her face lit up. "Okay! It goes like this!" She started to sing in a cheerful, slightly off-key voice:
"Left is where the sun will set, Right is where the sky turns red! Take the path and march along, Left and right, you can't go wrong!"
She added a little dance, stepping to the left and right in rhythm with the song, her arms swinging exaggeratedly.
Zoro stared at her for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then, with a low grumble, he uncrossed his arms and mimicked her movements, stepping left and right in time with her.
"There, happy?" he asked, his voice gruff but his expression softening as Kuina burst into laughter.
"Yes!" she declared, grabbing his hand again. "Now you'll never get lost!"
Zoro shook his head, a small, rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "We'll see about that," he said, his tone lighter.
As they continued down the trail, Kuina hummed her song quietly, her small hand swinging his as they walked. The forest seemed brighter now, filled with the warmth of their shared moment.
The walk home was short, the forest trail familiar to Kuina. As always, she led the way, pointing out turns and landmarks while Zoro followed behind, his hands resting lazily on the hilts of his swords. The small cabin soon came into view, tucked cozily amidst the towering trees, smoke curling faintly from its stone chimney.
Inside, the cabin was modest but well-kept. Wooden shelves lined the walls, filled with an assortment of items: books, tools, and neatly stacked firewood. The scent of the forest lingered in the air, mingling with the faint smell of dried herbs hanging by the window.
Zoro moved to the small kitchen area, pulling out a pot and a few simple ingredients. "What do you want for lunch?" he asked, glancing at Kuina.
"Anything!" she chirped, hopping onto a stool by the table. "As long as there's rice!"
He grunted in acknowledgment, setting a pot of rice to boil while chopping some vegetables with quick, precise movements. Kuina swung her legs idly, her book resting on the table in front of her.
"We learned about sea maps today!" she began, her voice bright with excitement. "Sakura-sensei said the Grand Line has islands you can't even see from afar because of weird weather! Isn't that amazing?"
Zoro glanced over his shoulder, his expression softening. "Yeah, it is," he said simply, setting the pan of stir-fried vegetables on the table along with the rice.
Kuina didn't need more encouragement. She launched into a detailed account of her day, her voice animated as she spoke about maps, her classmates, and the drawing she had made of their cabin. Zoro listened silently, nodding now and then as they ate, his steady presence grounding her boundless energy.
After lunch, they stepped outside into the clearing. The afternoon sun was warm, casting long shadows beneath the trees. Zoro stretched out under the shade of a large oak tree, leaning back against its trunk. Kuina sat beside him, her book open on her lap.
"Time to rest," he said, closing his eye.
"But I'm not tired," she protested lightly, though she soon found herself yawning. The forest was quiet except for the rustle of leaves and the distant calls of birds. Before long, Kuina's head drooped onto Zoro's arm, her soft breaths signaling that she had drifted off.
When they woke, the sun had begun its slow descent, painting the sky with streaks of orange. It was time for their daily kendo practice. Zoro fetched two wooden bokken from the cabin and handed one to Kuina.
"Stance first," he instructed, his voice firm but patient.
Kuina mimicked his movements, holding the wooden sword with both hands. Her stance was solid, her determination evident. They practiced swings, footwork, and basic strikes, Zoro offering corrections with a rare blend of precision and encouragement.
"Good," he said after a particularly sharp strike. "Again."
Kuina adjusted her stance, her small feet digging into the dirt for better balance. She swung the wooden bokken with precision, her determination written all over her young face. Despite her size, her movements had a sharpness that hinted at her potential, and Zoro couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride.
"That's enough for today," he finally said, his voice gruff but tinged with approval. "You're getting better."
Kuina's face lit up, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Do you really think so, Daddy?" she asked, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.
Zoro ruffled her hair, smirking. "Yeah. You're not bad for a little squirt."
"Hey!" she protested, swatting his hand away with a giggle.
He stood, stretching as the sun dipped lower on the horizon. "Go clean up. And don't take forever. Dinner won't make itself."
Kuina saluted dramatically. "Aye-aye, Captain!" she said, sprinting toward the cabin with her bokken in hand.
Zoro shook his head, watching her go. The sight of her carefree enthusiasm brought a rare softness to his expression. She reminded him so much of someone he used to know—strong, stubborn, and full of life. He sighed deeply, his gaze lingering on the cabin door before turning his attention to the setting sun.
As promised, Kuina handled her bath without incident, emerging with her damp hair sticking up in every direction. She beamed triumphantly as she entered the kitchen, where Zoro was already preparing dinner.
"Anything I can do to help?" she asked, climbing onto her favorite stool.
"Yeah, sit there and don't make a mess," Zoro replied, sliding a bowl of rice toward her.
Kuina grinned, kicking her feet idly as she waited. The sound of the storm beginning to pick up outside created a cozy backdrop to their simple meal. They sat together at the small wooden table, the soft glow of the lantern casting warm light on their faces. Kuina filled the silence with chatter about her day at school, her voice animated as she spoke about her friends and her lessons.
As bedtime approached, Zoro made sure Kuina was tucked in snugly. He leaned against the doorway of her room, watching as her breathing evened out and sleep claimed her. For a moment, he stood there, the storm outside a distant murmur compared to the warmth filling the room.
His eye softened as he took in her peaceful face. Days like this—spent watching her grow, hearing her excited chatter, and seeing the determination in her practice—made everything worth it. Every challenge, every sacrifice, every late night spent worrying was outweighed by the simple joy of being her father.
Finally, he turned and headed downstairs. He grabbed a cloth to wipe his swords, a nightly ritual that brought him a strange sense of peace. But as he sat down and began working a sudden knock at the door shattered the quiet. Zoro froze, his hand gripping the hilt of Wado Ichimonji instinctively. It was late—far too late for visitors. Rising silently, he made his way to the door, his senses sharp.
When he opened it, the sight that greeted him stole his breath. Nami stood there, drenched from head to toe, her fiery orange hair plastered to her face. Her expression was a mix of exhaustion and vulnerability, and her body trembled from the cold rain that poured around her.
For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the storm raging behind her.
"Nami," he said at last, his voice barely audible.
Her lips parted, as if to speak, but no words came out. Then, her legs buckled, and Zoro lunged forward to catch her before she hit the ground.
Holding her close, Zoro carried her inside, his mind racing with questions. Whatever storm had brought her here, he knew one thing for certain: this was only the beginning.
TBC
Author's Note:
I wrote this story many years ago, during a time when my love for One Piece was at its peak. Life moved on, and for a while, I drifted away from the series. But a few months ago, I returned to the world of Luffy and his crew, and my One Piece love came back stronger than ever.
When I revisited this story, I saw its spirit—the heart of what I wanted to convey—but I also noticed places where it fell short of its potential. So, I decided to give it another try, polishing it with the same passion I had when I first wrote it.
Whether you're reading this for the first time or re-reading it, I hope you feel the difference. Thank you for giving this story a chance, I hope you enjoy it.