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It is not Zoro’s ideal afternoon, but it could be worse.
The crew had anchored on a moderately sized spring island that morning. Unfortunately, it had only taken a few dockside chats with the locals for the Cook to learn there was a tea parlor in the town.
A delicate, Wano-inspired establishment.
Sanji had immediately gathered Robin for a tea-lovers date. And then, due to Zoro’s heritage, Sanji had also thoughtfully demanded his husband tag along.
“You’ll have to try the matcha, Mossy,” Sanji muses aloud, then sighs, “ I hope they have mugicha. What about you mon chère my dear
“I will admit, I am hoping to try kukicha again. The brew I had in Wano was lovely,” Robin smiles.
“It’s just tea,” Zoro grumbles as he tags along behind them, “just buy the leaves and take it back. Curls makes it better anyway.”
"Chou" Cabbage Sanji flushes bright red from the compliment. The swordsman smirks, preening in victory as the blond flusters and quickly adds, “it's the experience! The culture!”
Zoro rolls his eyes while Robin snickers.
A tea parlor sounded boring as hell. Zoro had been hoping to get a nap in before his pack mule duties kicked in that afternoon.
But whatever, he’s already planned to make his own entertainment.
Robin meets his eye and winks. She had promised before they left to help him keep track of which teas Sanji preferred so Zoro could buy them later.
This was a win-win scenario.
Zoro would add another tick to the Best Husband tally and Curly would be happy as hell when Zoro surprised him later with his fancy-ass teas.
Hell yeah.
The swordsman is still trailing behind his crewmates on the outskirts of the town when his Haki flares in warning.
A hooded figure lingers a hair too long in their footsteps.
The thief thinks they’re being discreet when they slip into the shade of his shadow. But Robin turns her head and gives Zoro a clipped frown, confirming the plan in a glance.
The moment a hand reaches out towards the blades at his hip, Zoro darts quickly off to the side. Hands bloom from the ground and halt the thief in their step, making them gasp.
Zoro draws Enma and uses her to hold the distance between the thief and his crewmates.
Three vs one.
“I suggest you look elsewhere,” Sanji snaps.
Zoro smirks, thriving in the confidence of their position.
“I know a good fence when I see one,” the thief snarls, the snap of her head causing the hood to fall and reveal their features. It’s a young woman with brown hair; wearing dark clothes and a ferocious glare.
Fucking tits.
Two vs one, then. Zoro grunts, dropping Sanji from the count.
“I think I’m good, actually,” the thief sneers, squatting to lower herself to the ground. She touches her fingertips to Robin’s bloomed hands at her ankles and the appendages suddenly burst into bright blue dust.
“Oh!” Robin gasps.
“Devil fruit,” Zoro curses. He shuffles his crewmates behind him as they adjust their strategy.
“Transportation? Teleportation?” Robin hums, goading their adversary for information.
“Want to see for yourself where it goes? Most don’t survive the trip,” the thief threatens, waggling her fingers in the air.
The thief is fast on her feet and Robin takes the first point as they evaluate her skills. She keeps up a series of hands to catch the woman as Zoro readies to defend the gaps with Enma. Bloomed appendages take the majority of the hits as the brunette attempts to close the distance between herself and the StrawHats. Blue puffs of sand follow everything she touches.
It works irritatingly well as a deterrent as she gets closer to Zoro and his blade. She expertly dodges Robin’s hands and Enma’s edge as she dances into close combat.
“Those are some pretty blades, swordsman,” she coos.
“They’re pretty sharp too,” Zoro snarls as the woman dodges his swing.
The brunette brings her leg up to counterbalance her dodge and manages to snag her ankle around Zoro’s belt in her movement. The swordsman feels the weight lift from his hip as his sash is cut from what must have been a hidden blade in the sole of her shoe.
Wado and Kitetsu clatter to the pavement and Zoro feels a flash of panic spike wild and untethered in his chest.
Of all the battles to lose hold of his precious blade, he seethes, scrambling to get purchase of his feet and go after her.
It’s no accident, however. It’s a nasty, strategic move and Zoro bares his teeth at the devil fruit user as he races her to reach Wado. Her pristine scabbard shines in the sunlight, as if crying out.
Shit!
Zoro pushes himself to the limit but it won’t change the fact that his adversary is going to reach Wado first, her fingers outstretched and her grin victorious. He might be snarling but he can’t tell, his ears deafening him with a rush of blood.
Then, just as her hand would reach Wado’s hit, a lithe form comes between them. Precious hands snatch her up and pull her to a familiar chest.
The devil fruit user's palm lands on Sanji’s shoulder instead and Zoro feels the world fall away as a vibrant blue eye meets his own. There’s relief awash in Sanji’s features.
And then he’s gone.
A puff of blue sand is all that remains. Zoro’s within reach now but there's nothing to catch.
His boots slide through sparking, sapphire sand and someone is screaming Sanji’s name.
Sanji.
___
Sanji is only partially aware as the world shrinks around him.
It’s as if he can feel the way his limbs bend against the strain of unnatural confinement. As if every bone in his body were a hair away from snapping out of place. His joints scream and his muscles spasm against the compression.
Emptiness pushes into every nook and cranny of his body with chilling, unyielding pressure.
His chest heaves but there’s no air.
No room for his lungs to expand.
Then, suddenly, Sanji is jolted back to reality and surrounded by darkness.
He shudders, a deep voiding chill racks his body.
There’s a stale flavor to the air as he consciously sucks in greedy gulps of air that make his lungs rend and burn .
Everything aches and he feels his muscles tremble. Sanji recalls the pressure of swimming in the deep ocean and thinks that’s the closest his mind can conjure to describe it. His mind feels muddied and unfocused, but Wado Ichimonji rests secure in his grasp and he tightens his hold despite the searing pain it brings his fingers.
“Thank goodness,” he breathes in shallow gasps. “Tsukamaeta yo, Shin'ainaru,” I've got you, Dearest
Wado was safe.
He was alive.
Everything else would come with time.
Peeling his eyes open, Sanji finds a number of expensive items littering about the small space he resides in. A silver watch, a gold tie pin, a marble rolling pin.
All of the items, plus himself, rest in uneven piles of blue sand.
“Oh- what the shit?” A masculine voice catches the blond’s attention. Through the dim light of the room, green eyes peer through a doorway, a large form looming in the shadows. “No one… No one’s ever shown up alive before.”
Sanji scoffs, and yeah , the throbbing ache of his limbs is testament to that anomaly. He bites back nausea and is unable to resist replying, “you ought to be careful not to bite off more than you can chew, you know.”
Because no matter where he ended up, the blond’s confident his crewmates could handle the rest.
A heavy step sinks into sand and Sanji moves to stand and defend himself.
His legs lock up the instant he moves, thighs shaking under his own weight and tipping the blond ass over face. His shoulder takes the brunt of his fall and sand sticks to his damp skin.
What the fuck.
Instead of meeting his opponent face to face, Sanji finds he can barely turn his chin enough to meet his eye.
The features of the newcomer are shrouded in shadows, the man striding through the sand until he’s only a breath away. He squats on his heels, his lip curled in a sneer. “Bite off more than you can chew?” He teases, “I’ll be taking our haul, now.”
Sanji bares his teeth.
The man stares at the him as if he were a dying animal and Sanji hates that he feels every fucking bit of that description.
“I’ve seen people come through before, you know,” the man offers, his tone nonchalant. “Blue skin, broken lungs, bodies twisted in agony.” He jeers, “Whatever you’re dealing with can’t be pleasant.”
“Guess I’m fucking special , then,” Sanji spits at him.
“Hardy, maybe,” he scoffs, then nods to Wado, “doesn’t change that we’ll be taking that blade. I’ll be set for life with that kind of treasure.”
“ Va te faire enculer!,” Go fuck yourself! Sanji snarls right back and clutches Wado ever closer to his heart, “touch her and you won’t fucking have one.”
__________
“Let me go!”
“No! Zoro! She’s not giving it up and he could be literally anywhere!”
“And I’ll bring him back!”
“Don’t be stupid! You heard what she said! No living thing has ever survived the effect!”
“Then he’s the first and I’ll be the goddamn second!”
________
“Give. It. Up, ” the man hisses between swings.
Sanji grunts and refuses to move, his body curled protectively around Wado’s sheath. His fingers woven tight around her hilt. Blood drips tacky and warm from his scalp as his captor lands another solid hit to his skull. His body still refuses to cooperate for any offense and there’s a dark part of his mind that wonders how much damage has been done to his muscles under the pressure of the void he’d been shoved through.
The air feels thin and he can’t seem to catch his breath. The flames he can usually call to his aid don’t come.
Tension is all he can manage, so tension is what he’ll use.
Taut, constricted joints that lock Wado to his body.
Sanji’s not sure how long it goes on; how long the man has been hitting him. The back of his hands are a mess of bloody, broken skin from the man’s fingernails clawing at Wado’s hilt.
“Fuck off,” Sanji gasps, “I’ll never give her to you.”
“Oh shove off,” the man scoffs and stands to his full height, the brute of a henchman. “This isn’t worth the effort. I’ll wait it out. It’s not like you’re gonna survive that damage.”
Then, without any further words, the man turns and leaves. The other valuables collected in his hands.
A heavy metal door creaks closed and the only source of light in the small room quickly dies out. The thick clank of a barricade slides into place.
Sanji curls inward with a deep breath, his eyelids slide close with exhaustion as he presses Wado’s sheath firmly to his forehead.
He’s not sure how long he rests like that, his consciousness floating on the cusp of thought. There’s no light to indicate the passing of time.
Suddenly, there’s a faint pop and the blond blinks to awareness as he turns his head to follow the noise. There, resting softly nearby in the sand, is a round metal object that hadn’t been there before. Sanji is within reach and has little else to do, so he cautiously takes hold of the new object and brings it closer to look.
On his inspection, it feels hollow. The sphere is about the size of the Sunny’s cannonballs but with none of their heft. The surface is patchwork-like, covered in uneven welding seams.
Sanji has never seen the object before, but yet there was still a familiarity to it. As he turns it over in his hands, the blond finds a circle of metal that is slightly raised from the rest, its surface decorated with a roughly etched swirl.
And if that wasn’t an invitation-
Click .
On the press of his thumb over the swirl, the sphere cracks open.
“Oh,” Sanji gasps, a sorrowful lament as he finds the morose remains of a small DenDenMushi inside.
He instantly recognizes its shell. Sanji knows for a fact that that very creature had been sitting on Nami’s navigation table the morning they’d left the Sunny.
Sanji cradles the tiny creature delicately in his hands, “I’m so sorry, soldat courageux. brave soldier Were you sent to find me?” he murmurs, offering praise for his travels.
Remorse that it’d lost its life in a bid to help him.
Thunk.
A knock of movement from somewhere beyond the room suddenly sounded out. Hollow and woody. It’s a stark reminder of his current position and Sanji immediately realizes he needs to hide the evidence should his captor return.
If the man realized that his partner was compromised it wouldn’t bode well for his chances of mercy.
With gentle movements and shaking, tender hands, Sanji digs two out two holes in the sand around him and buries the sphere and the DenDenMushi separately. He offers a few quiet last words of condolences to his tiny ally and pats the sand down smooth.
He sighs, but as sad as it makes him, it was a clear sign that the devil fruit user was likely within the StrawHats control. It was glaring evidence that his crew was actively trying to find him.
And Sanji couldn’t imagine how they might be worrying.
How his husband would be worrying. The blond purses his lips and drags an aching hand to touch the gold earring he wore. Careful of his own spilt blood, Sanji tilts Wado’s sheath to press the white silk of her hilt against the metal of his earring. As if to offer her a reminder of his devotion to their return.
Memories of Zoro pull fresh to his mind.
Of the swordsman gently cleaning his favored blade, the way he always gently rested her on his lap as he worked or the way he would rest his forearm on her at his side as he relaxed.
He recalls the night he’d told Sanji her story; of Kuina and her importance. The words whispered reverently against the blond’s neck as they tucked close in the crows nest.
Sanji adjusts to hold her close to his heart. His joints tug with each movement and his bones burn with a deep ache of wrongness.
The blond attempts to even out his labored breathing and focus past the pain.
“Le made okutte ageru yo, I'll get you home ,” he whispers, “I’ll keep you safe for him, I promise.”
___
“Where the hell is he?!”
“Aw, that’s sweet. You wanna go collect his corpse?”
“Watch what you fucking say. I’m not feeling merciful.”
“I’m not afraid of death.”
“Death shouldn’t scare you. I should .”
______
Sanji is startled awake by the metal slide of the barricade at his door.
“Shit,” he gasps, feeling his panic spike he realizes he’d nodded off. His fingers ache, still clenched tight around Wado Ichimonji, and he sighs in relief at her presence.
As the door creaks open, the blond is stricken to find that he feels in no way improved. His body is still tense and static, his heart races in a hollow chest.
He tries to stretch a single leg out but it strains and pulls like a rusted joint, “fils de pute.” son of a bitch He curses between clenched teeth.
Sanji doesn’t get a chance to attempt any other movements before a hand is tangled in his hair and he’s yanked to the side. The blond keeps one hand tight around Wado’s hilt as he hisses in pain.
“She hasn’t come back,” the man snarls, “Tessa was supposed to be back hours ago!” He raves, dragging Sanji across the sand by his hair.
And for once Sanji can hear something genuine in his tone.
Fear.
“Where the hell is she? The fuck did you do?” A meaty hand paws at Wado’s sheath and Sanji rears up as best he can while tethered to the grip on his scalp. He hooks up his knees to try and get distance between them while his hands remain locked on his charge.
It’s scrapy, bloody efforts to fend the man off with his weak limbs but Sanji can't help but let out a laugh at the victory. His determination flames hot as he hisses viciously, “you never asked if I was alone.”
His attacker howls and doubles down. A solid punch to the blond’s solar plexus forces the air from his lungs and loosens him enough that Wado is successfully ripped from his grasp.
“NO!” Sanji roars.
He can’t lose her.
He has to keep her safe.
A feral sort of passion boils over and Sanji twists, swinging a leg out in an agonizing arc from the ground using muscles that strain against every inch. His foot hits the solid muscle of the man’s forearm and it snaps under the force.
Wado falls and Sanji lunges; heart hammering under the strain as he once again gets a hand around her hilt.
“Mother fucker! ”
The heel of a boot quickly follows; pain spiking hot and visceral as Sanji’s hand cracks under the weight. Tears spring unbidden to his eyes and nausea pools at the back of his throat.
“Just give it up!” The man screams, grinding his foot into Sanji’s bloody knuckles.
The blond snarls back, clawing to pull Wado back to his side. A coil of fear burns tight in his gut at the position he’s fallen into. Because he can claw and scratch and fight, but he knows he’s not winning.
What could he do? What can he offer if these were his last acts?
If he can offer something … Be it for the man he so dearly loves.
Something with the breath he has left.
“Shin'ainaru, ore ga anata o mamorimasu Dearest, I will keep you safe .”
Sanji gasps and lets his passion free.
_______________
For so long, losing Wado Ichimonji had been one of Zoro’s worst fears.
Death didn’t frighten him.
Death was honorable, and as long as he breathed, he could continue to push for his goal to be the best.
But… Reaching his goal without Wado Ichimonji?
Becoming the greatest and leaving Kuina and their promise behind?
It was the worst of worst case scenarios.
Nothing could be more shameful.
And yet.
How incredibly, horribly wrong he had been.
Kneeling in a poor attempt to meditate on the deck; Zoro digs his hands into the meat of his thighs and lets the blunt points of his fingernails ground him. Shame and terror overwhelm him.
Terror for Sanji’s safety.
Shame that Sanji would place the safety of Kuina’s blade over his own life .
Zoro’s heart was a bleeding, aching wound.
How had he fucked up so badly?
Did Sanji truly think Zoro would prefer this?
The weight of Wado’s presence missing at his side was nothing compared to the missing warmth from his reach. The absence of sweet touches, sharp words, and long legs.
Zoro has other blades.
Zoro doesn’t have another Sanji.
“Zoro?” Nami’s cautious voice cuts into his thoughts. He heaves a deep breath and opens his eyes to meet her sympathetic gaze. She sits down next to him, tucking her legs in and wrapping her arms around them.
He wants to tell her to fuck off but he doesn’t.
She can probably still read it on his face.
“We’ll get them back,” Nami tells him.
He swallows thickly and attempts to keep his voice even as he replies, “we’d get him back faster if you’d let me go after him.”
The navigator sucks in a tight breath, “stop making me the fucking bad guy here. There has been no response on the DenDen. You heard what she said-.”
“I heard what she goddamn said!” Zoro growls, “and I’m willing to take the risk.”
“Well we aren’t ,” Nami hisses.
The words fuel something hot and wild in him.
“Risk is weight. When you take a risk it’s because the goal is worth it. ” Zoro snarls, “and there’s not a damn thing in the world that's worth less than him. ”
Nami’s lips pull into a ugly frown, her eyes growing wet, “Zoro-”
“I smell smoke,” Luffy declares suddenly at large.
Suddenly, there’s a stunted gasp from the thief chained to the mast.
On guard duty, Robin is quick to follow the woman’s gaze across the horizon and point out a plume of smoke arising much further down the shore, “the west docks.”
Zoro quickly gets to his feet and glares into the distance. The smoke looks like it’s rising from a small caravel with blue sails tucked along the edge of the port.
He turns to glance at the thief, and notices their captive unsuccessfully hiding the fear in her eyes.
He also knows he isn’t the only one to notice.
“Captain,” the swordsman grunts out, all clenched teeth and twisting heart.
“Yeah,” Luffy nods, one hand stiff on the brim of his hat, “Zoro, Nami, and Chopper. Let’s go.”
As they run, Zoro attempts to calm his racing pulse. The adrenaline pumping into his body feels wrong with the missing weight of Wado from his hip. He’s unsettled by the knowledge that, should there be a battle, he would be handicapped from the start without a full set of blades for his most powerful moves.
And if Sanji’s life hung in the balance, Zoro was loath to be anything less than at his best.
After a final stretch of boardwalk, the blue-sailed caravel is in view.
The entire ship has been taken aflame.
“A storm, Nami!” Luffy orders as they get close.
“Got it,” Nami agrees.
None of them say it. The frightening unspoken words between them.
A glaringly likely cause to the fire.
The ship is within reach and Zoro doesn’t slow his pace as he races up the dock.
“I’m going in,” Zoro states.
“Right behind you!” Luffy declares, giving orders over his shoulder as he follows suit, “Nami, tame the fire. Chopper set up your med kit.”
Nami’s rain starts by the time Zoro’s stomping across the gangplank, Kitetsu drawn at his side. A wide swipe offers them a path through the smallest flames.
The thick heat of the air burns in his lungs. The ship is likely unsalvageable, charred and crumbling planks are already taking up the majority of the deck. He looks for movement and bodies. He listens for cries of help or pain.
There’s nothing.
“Below deck,” Luffy says, frowning. And he’s staring at the deck as if he could see what lay below their feet.
Zoro trusts his Captain; he wastes no time and efficiently cuts through the main cabin door.
The rain has picked up and tamed the worst of the flames, but the undercarriage of the burning ship still feels like an oven. Water begins to seep down the walls and the smoke folds to steam.
Zoro leads the way on instinct as they move. The planks below his boots feel warm and weak. The floor bows under his steps and the walls list to the side.
Further down, past a splintered support beam, Zoro smells it.
It’s unique and revolting; the odor of charred flesh.
“Luffy-,”
“I know. Let’s keep moving.”
The swordsman steels himself as he picks up the pace, following the stench into the furthest depths of the carvel. The heat builds the deeper they go and smoke curls around his ears.
Zoro doesn’t think he’s even been so relieved to see a dead body. But he is, because the dead body that comes into view is without a doubt , not Sanji’s.
The last hallway holds the corpse of a large man, his burnt upper body visible as his lower half hides through a doorway.
They make it to the doorway where the corpse lies and Zoro doesn’t hesitate to step over it.
But his heart stops as he enters the room.
“Curls-?” The gasp leaves him without thought. Suddenly, Zoro’s moving and he can’t cross the room fast enough, the soles of his boots slipping in piles of blue sand as he runs.
The far wall of the room bears the echoes of a grand flame. Crisp, black torch marks converge into a single epicenter; a man. A blond man, curled up on his side with a white katana clutched desperately in his arms.
Sanji.
“Curls,” Zoro cries, sliding to his side and placing a trembling hand on the Cook’s shoulder.
Sanji flinches at the touch, curling further inward around Wado Ichimonji as he mumbles brokenly, Daijōbu, kimi wo tsukamaeta. It's okay, I've got you ”
Zoro’s breath catches, his heart could not be fuller.
His heart could not have been more broken.
The Cook was alive, but his clothes were scorched and tattered, his skin was deathly pale.
Sanji was alive.
Luffy places a heavy hand on the swordsman’s shoulder, “Zoro, I’m gonna make a path out to Chopper.”
Zoro nods, the rest is clear. He swallows thickly and reaches out once more. As his fingertips land softly to Sanji’s temple, the blond shudders and it pains Zoro to his core.
“Ore no Hikari” My Light Zoro breathes the words like a prayer, his fingers delicate as he threads them through messy, golden locks.
Sanji startles, his visible eye fluttering open to reveal an unfocused sea-blue iris. His shoulders tense as he attempts to process the face in front of his own. His mouth opens and his voice cracks, “Moss?”
“I’m here,” Zoro replies, his voice thick. He continues to card his fingers through Sanji’s hair, relief spilling into him as life seeps back into his gaze.
Abruptly, there’s a loud CRACK of splintering wood. Sanji sucks in a tight breath and Zoro tucks closer to soothe the blond, attempting to carefully draw him into his arms.
“It’s Luffy,” he reassures him, “we’re taking you home.”
Thankfully, his words work and Sanji lets out a hum of agreement, Wado still flush to his chest.
There’s no visible injury that Zoro can see at the moment, but it’s obvious that Sanji’s in pain as he gathers him up. He can tell by the way he holds himself taut and tense, and how the line of his jaw is clenched tight. The thief's confident words trickle out from the back of his thoughts.
“You wanna go collect his corpse?”
They need to get Sanji to Chopper as soon as possible.
Luffy has busted a wide hole in the side of the burning ship and Zoro wastes no time leaping out of the heat and into the fresh air. Landing as gently as he can on the dock where Chopper and Nami are rushing to his side.
“Zoro, just hold him and kneel down, I need to start with his vitals,” Chopper orders, wielding his stethoscope.
Sanji stirs in his arms as the doctor pesters him, his breath shudders and he meet’s Zoro’s tense gaze.
“I kept her safe, Mon Chou My Darling ,” the blond declares softly, his eyelid dripping low with fatigue as he tilts the white katana to press her sheath against the swordsman’s chest. The hand that holds her is soaked in blood and suddenly Zoro’s chest coils tight. He opens his mouth but finds no words for his emotions.
Relief. Despair. Horror. Love.
“Le, Shin'ainaru, Home, Dearest ” Sanji utters, his breath soft as he falls unconscious. His form weighs heavier and Zoro feels the spike of fear as those blue eyes hide from his view.
“Chopper,” he gasps.
He has to remember to breathe.
“Vitals are way out of range, but appear stable,” the reindeer declares, “we need to get him to the Sunny for a full exam. I’m concerned with hypoxia.”
Zoro nods like he knows what that means and feels about as helpful as a wheelbarrow as he’s guided back to the ship with his husband limp in his arms.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of blond hair and pale skin.
“Mass Cell Hypoxia, myocyte rupture, fissure fractures,” the reindeer grumbles, making notes and gathering ingredients.
Zoro parks himself at Sanji’s bedside and refuses to leave the infirmary as Chopper hooks the blond up to an IV concoction and slaps an oxygen mask on his face. He works at the mortar and sets a new medicine to boil before he returns to attend to his injuries.
He checks the delicate bones in Sanji’s left hand as he cleans the lacerations and Zoro tries not to throw up as he sees the damage. Sanji flits in and out of consciousness as Chopper works and mercifully, the doctor declares that there were only a few hairline metacarpal fractures in his hand. They would need to be watched carefully, but that he wouldn’t expect any lasting damage from the injuries.
Zoro helps hold Sanji's head as Chopper strains medicine down the blond’s throat. Finally, the doctor finishes with carefully placed, thick bandages to support the joints as they heal.
By sunset, Chopper finally declares the Cook stable and on the mend.
Robin and Franky take the devil fruit user off the ship and Zoro couldn’t fucking care less what they do with her.
He’d heard her wails of anguish when Luffy had told her what they’d found on that ship.
There wasn’t going to be a punishment Zoro could deliver stronger than that.
He almost feels pity.
Almost.
The swordsman spends the rest of his evening tending to Wado Ichimonji in the infirmary. She has a fine layer of charcoal dust on every surface and his husband’s blood has dried into the etching of her guard.
There’s not a single goddamn scratch.
As he cleans her, Zoro feels guilt blossoming at her safe return. For a brief moment, he shames at how he had wished it had just been her he’d lost.
And then he refuses to accept the regret.
He stares at his husband's soft features, the dark circles under his eyes, and finds himself scowling back down at Wado. Her white sheen is buttery yellow in the lamplight of the evening.
“Go bujide ureshīdesu,” I am glad you are safe he offers with a grunt, “Demo ore wa itsumo kare o erabimasu.” But I will always choose him.
Then Zoro nods, as if that settles it.
Which it kind of does.
He pictures Kuina, all sharp words and loud actions. Over the years, Wado Ichimonji had taken on an honorable place at his side, steady and sharp. But it had been Kuina that fostered Wado’s true strength.
Her soul that he truly honored.
Zoro pictures how she would have spat and cursed at Sanji for risking his life over a stupid sword, and his heart settles.
“Chou?” Cabbage
The swordsman jolts up in his seat at his lover’s voice. Sanji is blinking awake, a foggy eye catching his attention. Zoro gently sets Wado aside and pulls up close, delicately gathering the blond’s bandaged hand in his own.
“Hikari” Light He breathes, unable to keep his hands off of the cook as the blond blinks to focus. “How do you feel?”
“Like shit,” Sanji groans, accepting Zoro’s soft touch with relief. The blond’s gaze wanders, a check of his lover, a check of Wado at his side, and a final, pinched glance at his bandaged hand. It makes Zoro’s heart tug in agony.
No lasting damage. Zoro clings to Chopper’s reassurance.
“Curls-” Zoro starts, because he had words planned out. Thoughtful words to make sure his husband knows never to prioritize Wado’s safety over his own. But his voice catches and instead all that comes out is, “you’re such a fucking idiot.”
Sanji bristles, a sneer curling at the edge of his pale lips.
“Fuck , I mean,” Zoro swallows, he draws his thumb across the bandages of Sanji’s hand as he tries again, “I don’t want you to do that, ever again .”
“Our lives are dangerous, Chou Cabbage ,” Sanji frowns. “You know-”
“No,” Zoro clips, cutting him off as his voice dips into a dark, furious octave that makes the blond freeze.
He pictures the moments he’d sat waiting on the Sunny with both Sanji and Wado missing from his side, and the words repeat.
He would choose Sanji.
Every fucking time.
Zoro wets his lips and tries to let his heart show as he declares; “Curls, I don’t ever want you to think that I would value my blades over you .”
Sanji frowns, something timid and soft. “But- We didn’t know for sure it would’ve killed me anyway, and” he nods to Wado, “you need her.”
“No, , ” Zoro leans in to press their foreheads together, a hand curling around his lover's jaw and holding him close. He wants his thoughts to bleed out until they soak in. He needs Sanji to know. “No, Ore no Hikari, My Light I need you .”
“Zoro,” Sanji whispers softly, the name warm against the swordsman’s lips. His form shakes as he heaves a stunted breath. “I’m sorry. Of course. Fuck. I know , Mon chou. My Cabbage I’m sorry.”
“Don’t- ,” Zoro huffs, pressing a chaste kiss to his husbands lips. His fingers dig into the back of Sanji's scalp as if to tether their thoughts together. He recalls the breadth of his fear, the terror that he might’ve had to live with the knowledge that he’d lost his love in such a way. “Just- Don’t ever think that there is anything I wouldn’t give to have you at my side. Wado. My dreams. My own life. Anything, Curls.”
“Oh, Mon Amour My Love ,” Sanji breathes, his tone thick and wavering with affection, “as if there were a force in this world that could keep me from your side.”
“I fucking mean it ,” Zoro snarls, emotion boiling under his skin. His jewelry dangling from Sanji’s ear is cold against his touch and he needs to know . “Tell me, please. Tell me you understand.”
The blond’s uninjured hand lands gently over the swordsman’s heart, his eyes wide and wet. “I understand.”
Zoro scowls, his fingernails drag against the nape of his lover’s neck but he still can’t focus. He can’t stop picturing what he could have found on that burning ship.
“Marimo, I’m here . I’m sorry I scared you,” Sanji whispers softly into his skin, “my decisions were missing the weight of your love for me.”
He searches the blonds gaze, his partner, his love. The blond meets him with the same fervor, a bone-deep intensity and finally Zoro feels the rabbit beat of his heart begin to calm.
Without further words to offer, Zoro tugs Sanji into a searing kiss. The blond sinks easily into the embrace, warm and alive.
The sigh Sanji offers against his lips is a balm to his worries and Zoro basks in the swell of his heart.