From what I’ve heard, Zoro has yet to say Sanji’s name. And when he does, it has to be a big deal, like a scene that makes the reader/viewer gasp, makes them suffer from shellshock, makes every Zosan Shipper lose. their. god. damn. mind
Here are two examples that I have cooked up, please feel free to add you own hah lol bruh -
An epic battle is at its climax. The foe is awfully strong and Zoro is losing, god, he’s dying. He’s hurt and bleeding and fucking dying but he doesn’t stop, he can’t, wouldn’t even if he wanted to. Everything he loves is at stake. He can’t lose. But he can’t win. It’s like Kuma all over again, but Kuma had the decency to take his offer, take his head, take his life, in exchange for Luffy’s. This foe is not human, nor are they a beast. Even animals know mercy.Â
The other’s are not here, except Curly. They bickered for a time, but Zoro made it clear that this was his fight and no one else’s. The cook understands and only watches from a safe distance, unseen by the enemy. Fuck, it is Thriller Bark all over again. Zoro promised the crew that he’d kill their foe, swore it, and they trust him, they believe him. He’s going to lose and he’s going to die and his dream, Kuina’s dream, will die and he promised them, promised her. Everything is breaking from his bones to his dreams to his promises.Â
Zoro is kneeling in soil damp from his blood. He’s dripping it, fuck, he’s choking on it. He feels the broken bones in his left arm grate against each as he tries to lift Enma but the weight, the pain, is too much. He drops her to the wet dirt. His teeth are cracked, tight around Wado, he feels a few of them move loosely. Everything hurts. Moving, breathing, living hurts. Kuma had been kinder.Â
The foe looms over him like a mountain, a God, a thing. Their weapon is high in the air and they grin with victory in their lusting eyes.Â
Zoro, for the first time perhaps ever, is full of terror. He is so afraid tears flood his eye and his busted lips wobble and Wado falls from his quivering mouth, his whimpering and keening and bleeding mouth. His heart screams in his chest. He has never been afraid to die before, dying is easy.Â
But he doesn’t want to die like this, not like this. He’s going to die a failure who is hurt and afraid and alone-
Cook. Curly. Dart-brow. Pervert. Blondie. Shit-cook. Moron. Noodle-
It’s a scream that is wet with blood and fear and desperation. He hasn’t screamed since Kuma. It echoes into the sky, a prayer. It tears his throat and the blood from his mouth mixes with the tears and the snot. God, help me. Sanji, help me.Â
Sanji saves him, all fire and black legs and cigarette smoke. And Zoro watches, still trembling from agony and terror because he's still afraid. Sanji will die and it was Zoro who called him, begged him, to his grave. But then its quiet and there's a corpse too big to be Sanji’s lying on the ground, sautĂ©ed and tenderized.Â
A gold eye and a blue eye meet.Â
“We’re alive, Zoro,”
Zoro grunts, nods, then passes out.
Zoro is tired. All of them are. But that Cook, stupid Baka-cook, looks dead. It’s been a hard few days. Three days ago they’d gone through something that was similar to fighting Thriller Bark and Arlong Park and Water 7 and every other shit thing within the span of 24 hours. Curly suffered the most, physically and mentally, that shit-cook suffered bad. The other’s are knocked out on the gentle grass on Sunny’s deck, wounds bandaged and sleep dreamless. Though the cook is bandaged, his sleep hasn’t been dreamless. Zoro has heard him at night, a whispered name, begging not to die and a symphony of unintelligible agonized sounds. It was awful what happened, it was awful to see the cook beg a dead person to wake up.
Dart-board is in his kitchen, his home, his solace. Zoro stands in the doorway, arm in a sling and torso gauzed up. Cook is, well, cooking. But he shouldn’t be. Chopper prescribed a high dose of medication that needs to be partnered with bed rest, not zipping around making some sort of stew. Zipping, more like limping. Ero-cook should be on crutches for his injured legs, muscles and bones strained from the damn-near fatal battle they fought in. He’s got burns on his calves too. Chopper has cried and begged and that noodle fuck tells him he can’t cook properly if he’s on the crutches. Stubborn and cruel and stupid.
Zoro should shout at him, order him and fight with him till he goes to bed or uses those damn crutches but he’s too fucking tired, too fucking hurt. Plus, despite probably being tired like hell, the last thing the cook wants to do is sleep. Sleep means nightmares, memories. So, Zoro watches over his back.
His hands must of been shaking too much from the medication. The knife slips as he pulls it from it’s sheath and there is a splash of blood and a panicked yell. Zoro is there instantly, grabbing hold of his injured hand. Its a deep, neat gash going across his palm. Blood pours like red water. Zoro looks at Cook’s face and his blue eye is dilatated and darting around wildly, fucking Hell, he’s barely lucid on all these fucking pain meds. He’s cooking on auto pilot. The shadows beneath his eyes are awfully dark and his lips are chapped and his skin is pale like death and God, is this a corpse?
He guides Curly to the table and they sit there with fresh gauze. Chopper will kill him, but Zoro removes his fractured arm from his sling and professionally wraps the cut palm. He’ll take him to Chopper when he wakes up, he’ll need stitches. When all is done, they just sit.Â
It’s quiet like a graveyard.Â
Cook is staring with his white, mad eye at his gauzed hand like its something dreadful. It is, to Curly though, his hands are his everything, more important than his legs. His drugged up head is probably fucking with him and he can see it in the tremors that rack his bruised body and the faint moving of his peeling lips, like he’s muttering a word, a name.
Zoro, fed up with all of this pain and sadness, cradles Cook’s cut hand with both of his. The trembling stops and the lips cease to move and Dart-brow looks at him with that wide eye of his. Zoro holds his gaze.
Sanji nods, as if remembering that is his name.
Zoro nods too. They say the names like an answer to an unasked question.
“You’re alive too,”
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THESE ARE JUST MY STUPID IDEAS! I LIKE THEM YOU DO NOT HAVE TO! I WROTE THESE AT 2 AM! HAHA LOL BRUH!
