The first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, bathing the forest clearing in hues of amber and gold. The embers of the fire from the night before still smoldered faintly, sending thin trails of smoke curling into the crisp morning air. Dew clung to the grass, shimmering like scattered diamonds, and the distant hum of the forest waking up filled the air.

Zoro sat beneath a towering tree, methodically sharpening Shusui. Nami had woken up from where she had somehow ended up curled beside him during the night. Though she had started off away from him, the cold had evidently driven her closer. He, ever the one to sleep with one eye open, had allowed it.

That was, until she woke up screaming about his nakedness—despite the fact that her own clothes were equally tattered again.

Before he could suffer another blast of her fury, she thankfully excused herself to handle her morning needs—a relief for him, in more ways than one. As a cursed being, he no longer had the same bodily functions… and yet.

His crimson eyes followed the sun's slow ascent, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Bonding.

The word lingered in his mind like an unwanted guest. He didn't want to think about it—or her—but every time he glanced toward Nami, it gnawed at him. There was something about her, something that unsettled him—a pull he didn't like.

Then—movement. A shadow in the trees.

It didn't smell like her or him—his gift to her ensured he could sense her presence no matter where she was. It wasn't Absalom either, but it smelled… dead. And powerful.

Zoro was on his feet in an instant, hand hovering over his swords when the figure stepped forward.

A skeleton. Zoro's grip tightened.

The tall, lanky figure was draped in a tattered suit, his bony fingers clutching a bundle of fabric. The mass of frizzy hair atop his head bobbed slightly as he adjusted his bow tie with practiced elegance. His hollow sockets gleamed faintly, and his permanent grin widened as he took in Zoro's wary stance.

"My, my! No need for hostility, my friend!" the skeleton said, bowing deeply. "Allow me to introduce myself! I am Brook, a humble musician and swordsman, forever grateful for the curse you broke. Yohohoho!"

Zoro narrowed his eyes. "A talking skeleton."

Brook straightened, adjusting his bow tie. "Indeed! And a gentleman, I assure you. As a token of my appreciation, I come bearing gifts." He gestured to the fabric in his arms. "I thought the young lady might appreciate a fresh set of clothes. And yourself, perhaps something less… revealing?"

Zoro glanced down at his red sash, it struggling to cover his most intimate parts. He had to admit, he'd seen better days.

Before he could respond, Brook stepped forward, setting the bundle down. "Consider it a thank-you. The castle held many treasures—clothing among them. As you know…"

Zoro tilted his head and then blinked, "Ah, you're the musician from the palace…"

A rustling sound came from behind them. Nami emerged from the trees, stretching with a yawn.

"What's going on?" she mumbled sleepily before her eyes fell on Brook. She froze.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

Her scream echoed through the clearing.

Brook took a gentlemanly step back, bowing again. "Good morning, my dear! I do apologize for the shock, but I assure you, I mean no harm."

Nami found herself behind Zoro's large frame, her expression wild with disbelief. "You're a—YOU'RE A TALKING SKELETON?!"

"Indeed!" Brook chirped. "But worry not! I am merely a humble musician, freed from my imprisonment thanks to you two. And in gratitude, I come bearing gifts." He gestured grandly to the clothes.

Nami eyed him warily, but when she saw the items, her gaze softened. "Well. At least you have good taste."

Then, she noted that the sash did not manage to cover Zoro's bare bottom. As her face turned red, Brook chuckled.

"Yohohoho! Though if you young lovers preferred to be so…bare-"

She basically had steam coming out of her ears, so she quickly picked up the outfit and disappeared behind the trees to change in a flurry.

Zoro turned back to Brook as he also made moves to change. "Alright, skeleton. How'd you end up in that castle?"

Brook's permanent grin didn't change, but there was something different in his tone when he answered.

"Ah, a tragic tale, my friend." Brook's voice took on an almost wistful note. "Long ago, I was the musical leader of a grand crew. We were lively, full of dreams, chasing the horizon without fear."

He paused, the humor in his tone dimming. "But fate is cruel. A sickness swept through my crew, and one by one, they fell. I was the last to go. But thanks to my Devil Fruit, my soul returned…" He tapped a bony finger to his ribs. "Only to find that my body had already rotted away.

Zoro listened in silence. He didn't pity people—it wasn't his nature—but there was a weight to Brook's words that he understood all too well.

"I came across Absalom's wicked power, and as you know...when someone bares a Devil Fruit power, they must die in order for the power to return to the world. Absalom wanted my immortality, but my curse was living through death. And so, he kept me locked up instead...well until you both arrived...the wedding crashers!"

Brook let out a lighthearted chuckle as if shaking off the heavy memories. "And now, I plan to roam! A musician, a swordsman, and perhaps a bit of a romantic, if I may say so. Speaking of which—" His sockets flickered toward the katanas at Zoro's waist. "You carry quite the weapons, don't you?"

Zoro stiffened.

Brook's laughter faded. His skeletal gaze drifted toward the white-sheathed katana at Zoro's side.

"I can feel something… locked within that blade." His tone was no longer playful. It was measured. Serious.

"It's restrained," Brook murmured. "No… it's chained."

Zoro's jaw clenched. Wado Ichimonji.

Brook's bony fingers hovered near his own sword - hidden within his cane - an understanding passing through him. "You're a swordsman, too."

Zoro exhaled sharply, his fingers curling around the hilt of Wado. "Yeah."

Brook studied him for a moment before speaking. "It won't open for you."

Zoro's grip tightened, his jaw ticking. "I know."

Brook tilted his head. "Do you know why?"

A long silence.

"I don't remember."

Brook's sockets seemed to darken.

Zoro hated saying the words. It made something inside him churn with frustration. He could feel something in the blade, something waiting, something clawing to be freed—but he couldn't reach it.

Brook considered this before he spoke again. "Then perhaps you should give it up."

Zoro's entire body tensed. The atmosphere shifted.

A heat that hadn't been there before crackled through the clearing, subtle but dangerous. Brook's fingers twitched toward his sword instinctively.

Zoro's crimson eyes glowed faintly as he glared at the skeleton, his voice dangerously low. "Say that again."

Brook didn't move.

"Perhaps," he repeated carefully, "if you cannot wield it, it is not meant for you."

Zoro's breath was slow, measured—but his fingers had tightened around Wado's hilt in a death grip. "That's not an option."

Brook watched him carefully, then nodded as if he had confirmed something.

"You are bonded to it," he murmured. "Even without memory, even without understanding, you refuse to let it go."

Zoro didn't answer. Brook's sockets glowed with curiosity, but before he could say more, Nami's voice interrupted them.

"Alright, how do I look?"

They both turned.

Nami stood before them in the crimson-and-black floral dress, cinched at the waist with the golden sash. The lacquered chest plate added an air of strength, and her red heels clicked softly against the dirt as she stepped forward.

Brook, ever the dramatic, clutched his chest. "Ah, magnifique! Such radiance!"

Zoro, who had only just unclenched his jaw, took one look at her and exhaled. "Heels?"

Nami narrowed her eyes. "What about them?"

"They're impractical," Zoro said, his tone as sharp as his blades. "You're going to trip."

"I will not!" Nami retorted though the wobble in her step betrayed her confidence. Internally, she cursed herself for choosing the shoes. They were ridiculous, but there was no way she was going to admit he was right.

Zoro shrugged. "Your funeral." Which earned a chuckle from the living skeleton.

With an exaggerated huff, Nami spun on her heel, her shoes clicking indignantly against the uneven ground as she marched away. She barely made it ten steps before disaster struck. Her heel caught on a loose rock, and in a flurry of flailing arms and high-pitched shrieks, she lost her balance entirely.

Time seemed to slow as she tipped backward, her arms outstretched and panic written across her face. Zoro's hand shot out, catching her wrist, but instead of stopping her fall, the momentum sent him stumbling forward. The next thing Nami knew, she was sprawled awkwardly on the ground, her legs bent at strange angles, and Zoro hovered over her, his face inches from hers as he caught his balance.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Nami's fiery orange hair fanned out beneath her, her chest heaving from the shock. Zoro's face was frustratingly calm as he braced himself over her, his golden skin catching the soft glow of the morning sun while his hair hid them behind a sheen of glimmering emerald strands.

It felt almost magical, that was until Brook put bony fingers to his mouth and chuckled, "Oh my, how romantic."

Nami's eyes were the first to grow wide.

"What are you doing?!" Nami shrieked, her face turning crimson as she tried to wriggle away.

"What am I doing?" Zoro retorted, his brow furrowing. "I just saved you from breaking your neck, and this is the thanks I get?"

"You fell on me!" Nami snapped, shoving at his chest - still bare even though he had a new outfit thanks to Brook.

Nami had expected something practical. Maybe even something dull. But when Zoro stepped forward, draping the robe over his shoulders, she had to admit—Brook had a damn good eye.

A white kimono-style top hung loosely over his frame, the sleeves wide and flowing, leaving ample room for movement. The deep V-neck exposed the sharp lines of his collarbone and the sculpted muscle of his chest, his demon markings still visible against his golden skin. The fabric cinched at the waist with a dark indigo sash, knotted effortlessly, the excess cloth hanging just slightly off-center.

Over it, he wore a deep green haori adorned with black sunburst patterns that sprawled across the fabric. The cloak moved like it had a life of its own, shifting with every slight movement, somehow making him seem even more untouchable, like a figure carved from legend. The green of the haori mirrored his long, wild hair, which cascaded over his shoulders in unkempt waves, barely tamed by the wind.

"You're the one who tripped in those ridiculous shoes!" Zoro shot back, his voice rising as he rose to his feet. "Maybe don't wear death traps on your feet!"

Zoro stood barefoot, of course.

Nami sighed. "You could at least wear shoes."

Zoro looked at her as if the idea of shoes had personally offended him. Even still, he extended his hand, and she took it as he picked her up.

Brook let out another chuckle. "A warrior who rejects earthly comforts! How poetic! Though I must admit, the bare feet do add to the fearsome aesthetic."

She doubted he even noticed. His stance was as steady as ever, his sharp claws barely sinking into the earth beneath him. The lack of footwear only added to the otherworldly presence he exuded—less a swordsman, more a force of nature.

But it was the way he wore the swords that made her pause.

Brook, ever the showman, clapped his skeletal hands together. "Ah, my friend, the look suits you perfectly! Yohohoho! You appear like a warlord of old, stepping from the battlefield itself!"

Nami crossed her arms, tilting her head. "Yeah, well, he still looks like a demon."

Zoro exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders beneath the fabric, clearly indifferent. "Good," he muttered. "Saves me the trouble of reminding people."

Brook chuckled. "Yohohoho! Even for a demon, that was quite a passionate embrace! Shall I leave you two alone?"

Nami shoved Zoro away, her face burning. "You perverted skeleton!"

Brook only laughed. "The name is Brook, young witch."

Nami was tired of people calling her that but did not have proof. "Not a witch."

"But you were able to pull energy from a demon without a spell or binding. Unless...the kiss is how you bring forth the magic...a style I have never seen before."

Nami stared at the talking skeleton in a quiet voice, afraid to ask, "A...a kiss? What k-kiss?"

She barely looked at Zoro, who had uncharacteristically become silent, the tips of his pointed ears as red as his eyes.

"Ah," Brook mused, "have you forgotten, young witch? It is because of your power - well, both of yours- that you were able to let all those souls ascend. Now, I have my blessing and my curse, but you completely obliterated the dark magic...and you did it through a chaste kiss. How...romantic!"

Brook bellowed a laugh as Nami turned to the demon in question. "Y-you kissed me?"

Zoro was beside himself as he hovered over her. "What?! Were you even listening, witch? He even said it...YOU kissed ME! Took my power! Just like before!"

"What are you talking about?" Her fave flushed.

"You launched me into the woods...then you passed out. You straddled me for an orange...then you passed out. And then stole some of my energy through my mouth this time, and then, guess what? You passed out!"

"Well, well...it would make sense," Brook started as Nami stared, mouth agape. He eyed the necklace still visible over her new clothes.

"You seemed to have bonded...unconventionally, but bonded all the same."

They both turned and looked at the undead musician. "How?" They asked in unison.

Brook laughed, "Ah, this I do not know, young lovers. But..." he pointed at the necklace, "A gift accepted from a demon to a mortal is a contract. And..."

He tapped his bony finger on his cane. "Honestly, I do not even remember the last time I met a real witch. You may...young woman, seek the guidance of the Demon Child...or perhaps as she's known now, 'The Light of the Revolution.'"

Zoro's ears pricked up, "Revolution? Like the Revolutionary Army?"

Nami snapped out of her thoughts as she followed the new information. "Would she know where the Revolutionary Army is? Specifically, Fire Emperor Sabo? The Monkey King's brother?"

Brook grinned, "I wasn't aware of their relation, but yes, I'm sure Nico Robin could not only explain your powers but also direct you to your goal."

Nami beamed, "Yes, finally, we're getting somewhere! Where can we find Nico Robin?"

Brook pointed a bony finger to the sky, "She has made her nest in the clouds. But her exact location, I could not tell you."

Right," Zoro said suddenly, nodding as though he'd known all along. "I remember now."

Nami rounded on him, fists clenched. "You what?! You don't remember anything! Stop acting like you do!"

"I do!" Zoro insisted, though his smirk gave him away.

"You liar!" Nami shouted, smacking him on the head with her fist. "Do you know how infuriating you are?!"

Brook watched the exchange with a delighted laugh. "Yohohoho! It's been so long since I've seen such a couple in love."

The comment brought both Nami and Zoro to an abrupt stop. "We're not in love!" they yelled in unison, glaring at the skeleton.

But Brook simply waved his cane at them. "Ah, young love is always so fiery! Good luck, you two. And do try not to kill each other before reaching your next stop." With a haunting whistle, he disappeared into the forest, his laughter echoing behind him.

Nami stood fuming, her arms crossed as she tried to banish the memory of her recent "proposal" to the demon lord. Her mother must have been wrong. She had to be. Perhaps that was when they became bonded? But wouldn't he have to accept? Truly, she couldn't have so much power that she could force a bond.

As she mulled over her thoughts, she glanced toward Zoro. He was watching her intently, his expression unreadable. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

"What are you looking at?" she muttered.

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

As she pondered, she took small steps to get closer to him.

Nami rolled her eyes. "Obviously, we need to fly up, you idiot. And last time I checked, I can't fly."

Zoro tilted his head, his eyes drifting over her. The outfit clung to her figure, accentuating every curve, the vibrant red catching the firelight. His gift lay where he left them on her tender skin. He shook his head, trying to clear the intrusive thoughts. She must have cast some spell. Ever since she'd mentioned bonding, his mind had been running wild.

"I don't know, witch," he said, his smirk returning. "I think you can."

Before Nami could question him, Zoro took off his haori and wrapped her in it. Then he grabbed her by the waist. She stiffened, expecting to be carried bridal-style again, and the blush crept up her neck. "Zoro, what are you—"

With a flick of his arms, Zoro launched her into the sky.

Nami's scream echoed through the clearing. "I'm going to kill youuuu!"

Zoro chuckled, shrugged off the top half of his kimono, released his wings from his back, extended them, and rocketed upward after her. The wind roared past them as he caught her mid-air, his arms encircling her as her hands instinctively clutched at his shoulders.

"How could you, Zoro?" She said, tears in her eyes from the sharp propulsion upward.

He grinned as he brought her closer, though the haori he gave her aided in keeping her warm. As she nestled back into his hold, he mused, "Bonded or not, witch...I won't let you fall."