pairing: zoro x gn!reader
synopsis: years after luffy becomes the king of pirates, the crew splits up. (sniffle, sniffle)
It’s odd seeing the Sunny so bare.
She’s carried the crew for decades. She’s seen islands and traversed seas that many can’t even begin to fathom. She’s home, but she’s completed her mission.
Nami yells at Usopp to be careful as he carries a few mikan trees toward her new ship.
Sanji is making sure that there’s no excess pots or pans left in the galley’s cabinets.
The Sunny has always been alive with sound and movement, yet this feels more final. Like the lingering hum of a bell long after it’s been rung. It’s fading.
Docked in the same harbor are a plethora of custom built ships. Franky had been working on them for nearly the past year. Each has its own quirks suitable for its captain.
Zoro’s has an automatic navigation system. Figures.
After standing at the helm and waving goodbye to Usopp as he made his way toward Syrup Village, you take a breath and decide to pack up a few of your things.
The salty spray of the sea air and the gentle rocking of the ship usually do good to calm your nerves. This time, not so much.
It’s hard not to be hesitant. Stepping off of the Sunny for good? Not returning to her after a night out with the crew or following a grand battle? The idea makes your heart twist a bit in your chest.
All things come to an end though, you suppose. Even this.
You enter an old room scented of wood and leather. Books line some old shelves and there’s miscellaneous items scattered about. It’s surprisingly stale. Every home has got one room like that, right?
As you stuff a few of your forgotten items into a backpack, there’s a moment when you pause. A feeling, a presence, has you perking up.
“Zoro?” You speculate, before you turn your head and catch a glimpse of him. The swordsman is there and you grin a triumphant grin. “Ha! Knew it. I’m getting better at feeling when you’re around.”
He resists the urge to snort, instead crossing his arms and watching as you zip your pack closed. Wood creaks as he leans against the doorframe.“It only look you years, but sure,” he bluntly reminds, to which you click your tongue and shrug.
“Better than never,” you quip back, eyes lingering on him a bit longer.
It’s like you want to remember each detail before you sail off on your own path. Would you remember the wooden patterns on the Sunny’s deck? Would you remember Zoro’s scars and the story behind each?
The notion that you could forget something, someone, you know like the back of your hand… it stings.
Clearing your throat, you focus on sifting through some old books. Robin encouraged everyone to take their picks.
“Any idea where you’re gonna head off to?” You ask him, wanting to keep things on the sweeter side of bittersweet. “You haven’t said anything about it other than finding other swordsman. Fighting.”
It’s so him that it makes you smile into a book. “That’s good.”
His immediate response is a small grunt, not overly telling. “Nothing in mind,” he gruffly confesses, not ashamed, not hesitant. “If there’s booze and swords, someone strong, I’m in. I’ll find my way.”
There’s a bit of silence after that. Just a smidge. You’ve had good conversations with the swordsman. You’ve cleaned his wounds. You’ve yelled at him for spilling blood all over the deck.
Yet for some reason, this conversation makes you feel off. Not terribly so, but the usually comfortable silence is somewhat awkward. Stuffed with something.
His last words have you chuffing as you flip through an old book. Dust flies, your nose wrinkles, but you recover.
Finding his way? Please.
“Ugh, don’t stress me out even more,” you plead, more sarcastic than anything else, but the undercurrent of concern is there. “I get worried about you when you’re within visible range. Who knows what’ll happen to you out there.”
Another bit of silence, though it’s not as long as the last.
“Tch. If you’re that worried, you should keep an eye on me.”
Your fingers pause on the book. He stands there like he hasn’t detonated a bomb in your brain. Zoro’s got a funny way with words, but they seldom mean nothing. They have a tendency to hold purpose like a scabbard would a blade.
When you look back, cheeks maybe a touch too warm, you find that he’s avoiding eye contact.
He’s looking out the door, seemingly unbothered, and the breeze ruffles his hair, makes his earrings clink! ever so softly.
“You— That’s—,” but the words don’t come. Are you imagining things? Is he just being blunt and oblivious? Bullshit.
Sighing, you set the book down on a sturdy table and take a few steps closer. Your arms cross, not because you’re defensive, but because if he’s pitching what you think he is, you need to hold yourself together.
A breath. “Hey,” you begin, tilting your head, “you know I need things spelled out for me. I’ll overthink this. By the time I realize what you’d meant, you’ll be halfway across the ocean.”
He grunts. You double down.
“Can you just talk like a normal person?”
Finally, he sighs like he’s just been forced to make the worst decision on the planet. The swordsman faces you properly this time. A little tension rests on his shoulders. It’s not defensiveness, but something a bit more vulnerable.
He shrugs and uncrosses his arms, one of his hands coming to rest on Wado’s hilt. It comforts him.
“You’ve got no plans either, right?”
You raise a brow. “So this is just some last minute thing? I’m backup?”
Those brows of his furrow. Stubborn! “S’not like that,” he very roughly assures. Very roughly.
It takes him another few seconds to get his bearings together. Though it’s true that you have no plans, you can tell there’s more to this. Zoro hardly invites company for the sake of company. He’s fine tackling the world himself.
You know it. He knows it.
“Was just thinking,” he starts, tongue a bit heavy in his mouth, “it seems like a good idea to stick together. Us.”
As soon as the words leave his lips, you can feel your body get an adrenaline rush. For some reason, your nervous system can’t differentiate between battling warlords and having a heart to heart conversation.
It’s your turn to fumble for the proper words, so you stay silent. Maybe your head tilts like he’s a puzzle waiting to be solved.
Still, you just need conformation. This can’t just be a heat of the moment choice. Something reckless. If he wanted a companion, he could’ve chosen Luffy. Chopper. Zoro doesn’t make such choices lightly.
“You want me to go with you,” you conclude, not even bothering to phrase it as a question. Not just company. Not just a familiar face.
He stands a bit taller, physical evidence of his conviction.
“Yeah. I do.”
And your world flips, but in a pleasant way.
Suddenly what comes after this doesn’t seem so bad. There’s no room to think. He wants you? You’ll take a place by his side. It’s been his plan for years, even if he’s kept it tucked beneath his other ambitions. To him, it was bound to happen eventually.
You let out a quick breath, hands finding your hips. A smile forms on your lips and you maybe shake your head. He’s unbelievable.
“Okay. But I’m navigating!”
From there, it takes another few hours to move everything from your ship to Zoro’s or vice versa. You apologize to Franky for the mix up, but he couldn’t care less. The cyborg is over the moon that you and the swordsman are sticking together.
Waving goodbye to those still on the Sunny makes your heart hurt.
Zoro is at the helm, looks ahead. On the stern, you watch the Sunny until she’s but a speck on the horizon.
It’s quiet for a long while after that. The seas are calm.
Later that day, just as the sky shifts from brilliant blue to dreamy orange, you find the swordsman sitting on the deck. He’s looking forward. Always looking forward.
Though there’s plenty of space, you plop down right beside him. He’s warm and steady, an anchor in human form. Such proximity usually makes him bristle, but not this time. Not ever again. Not with you.
There’s a weight in the air. Anticipation for the future. Longing for what once was. Fondness for the memories made and those waiting to be captured.
The swordsman isn’t heartless. He feels it, too. Will his friends be safe without him? Will they continue to prosper even without their sword? Of course they will. He knows they will. Still, it’s not easy.
A particularly strong sea spray reminds him to breathe, the salty mist coating his nose and cheeks.
Maybe you rest your head on his shoulder. Maybe he rests his cheek against your temple. If your hand finds its way atop of his, he doesn’t move.
You can be scared together. Wander together. Persevere together.
While the crew is no more, neither of you feel lonely.
