-when his anger is taken out on the wrong place in the wrong time- angst
You heard the door slam before you saw him.
Heavy, rushed steps. Keys tossed onto the console. His bag hitting the floor with a thud that echoed down the hallway.
He didn’t even say hello.
You were already in the kitchen, apron still on, a dish towel over your shoulder and his favorite food still hot on the stove. You had candles lit — just two, small ones, nothing dramatic. You just… wanted to make him smile. You missed his smile.
So when he walked in, stiff-shouldered and scowling, you tried anyway.
“Hey, baby,” you said, gentle, trying to meet him where he was. “Rough day?”
He didn’t answer.
You took a step closer, hands still in the dish towel. “I made—”
“Why is it so fucking dark in here?” he snapped, voice sharp like glass. “I can’t even see anything—can you turn a goddamn light on for once?”
You froze, blinking.
“I— I just thought the candles would be—”
He scoffed, brushing past you, hand running through his hair, exasperated. “Jesus. I come home to this after the shit I’ve been through?”
You swallowed hard. “I didn’t know it would be this bad. I thought maybe—maybe it’d help. I made your favorite.”
You lifted the dish — still warm, perfectly plated, just the way he liked it. Your hands were trembling.
And maybe it was the wrong moment, or maybe he didn’t mean it at all, but he looked at it — looked at you — and said,
“I don’t need you hovering over me. I need space. Just—fuck. Stop trying so hard.”
Silence.
Your fingers shook.
Something in your chest cracked. Not loud — soft. Like the quiet break of something that had been held together too long.
“I was just trying to make you happy,” you whispered.
The dish clattered — not shattered, just dropped onto the counter as your hands fell away. Your breath hitched. The tears came faster than you could stop them.
And then he reached for you.
“Shit—wait, wait—baby, I didn’t mean—”
You flinched.
Like he’d slapped you. Like his voice alone had scorched the space between you.
his eyes widened. His hand froze midair.
You were already turning away — stumbling, shoulder brushing his as you ran past, up the stairs, into the bedroom, the soft sound of a door clicking shut behind you like a final period at the end of a sentence you didn’t want to write.
Downstairs, he stood in the kitchen. Staring at the plate you made. The food untouched. The candles still flickering softly. Pushing back the hair out his eyes
DAY 9. breeding, daddy kink 🫀 | Roronoa Zoro
Pairing(s): Roronoa Zoro x reader
Genre: Smut
Warnings: This content is for a mature audience.
Synopsis:
Author's notes: Finally, Day 9! I'm sorry it has taken me this long, but I may have overestimated the amount of porn I can write. Can you tell I enjoy jealous sex? Would you like a part two? Hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you, @tsunami-of-tears, for the gorgeous dividers. Leave a comment to get tagged on the next days!
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Jealousy is not a usual sentiment for Zoro. He knows who he is, what he wants, where he’s going (on his journey, not directionally) and how you feel about him. Never doubting you, your love or relationship. And though in the beginning Sanji would strike a nerve or two with his constant flirting, Zoro soon learned to take advantage of the cook’s coquetry, by stealing your dessert, drinks, and anything that would send Sanji into a tantrum. However, if that didn’t appease the blonde’s intentions, or your boyfriend’s anger, he just had to fuck you hard enough for the entire ship to hear you scream his name.
That’s been the status quo so far on the ship, or that had been until a certain surgeon showed up. Trafalgar Law. The pirate who formed an alliance with Luffy and had been travelling on the Sunny for the last couple of weeks. The swordsman had accepted said decision with little to no hesitation, fully trusting his captain’s judgement. That was until he had overheard a conversation that put him on edge.
He was on his way to take a nap in your joint cabin, making a quick stop to retrieve you from the girls’ room, when he first heard the navigator.
“Come on! You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed him! The other day, when you were helping Chopper gather herbs, his eyes were practically glued to your ass.” She exaggerated her words, giggling.
“I must agree with Nami, love. He’s got further intentions than just an alliance with Luffy...” Robin replied, taking a sip of her coffee.
“Yeah, he wants to form a coalition between you, your cunt and his di...”
“Nami!” You cut her off. “Of course I have! But what the fuck do you want me to do?” You laughed.
“I’ve seen you tell Sanji to fuck off; we all have! So, I wonder, are you enjoying the surgeon’s attention?”
Zoro’s ear was now glued to the door.
You hesitated for a couple of seconds, trying to form an answer that wouldn’t dig a deeper hole than the one you were already in.
“I fucking knew it!” Nami screamed, pointing at you accusatorily, a wide triumphant smile plastered on her face.
“Shh! Shut the hell up! Do you want the entire fucking red line to hear you?” You threw a pillow at her head, wanting to shut her mocking laugh, “Okay, sue me, he’s handsome, interesting, and well... he reminds me a little of Zoro. It’s not like I’m going to do something about it; it’s just a measly, little crush.”
“Yeah, the two of them share a lot of traits; it looks like you have a type.” Robin gave her input.
“Yeah, the shitty, anger issues type. At least he knows how to read directions.”
Umm, uncalled for, Zoro thought.
“Oh, suck a dick.”
“Eww, no, thank you.”
The three of you kept laughing and gossiping, but your man no longer felt like hearing or napping. No. Something big, ugly and green formed in his chest.
Zoro’s observation, Haki had never worked as hard as it did through dinner. You sat next to him as per usual, and Law had taken the seat right in front of you, which allowed the swordsman to see every interaction you two had, and boy, it took everything in him not to jump at the Heart pirate. He noticed how Law’s eyes lingered a bit too long on your lips as your tongue licked the remnants of the sweet drink Sanji had prepared for you, how he paid extra attention to anything you said, even if someone else interrupted or talked over you, motherfucker even offered you his slice of cake. He wasn’t even being that subtle. How in the fuck did he miss it for that long?
Marimo wasn’t being any better: squeezing your hip, pushing you closer to him, kissing your cheek, sharing his sake, whispering inappropriate things in your ear and acting so unlike his usual self. It didn’t take much for you to catch on to his intentions, and even though you should probably stop him, you couldn’t help but love the attention.
After dinner, Zoro tried taking you to the crow’s nest, claiming you two had a “sparring session” pending. You were tempted to indulge in his little white lie, but decided against it, claiming you were spending the remainder of the evening at the library —room Law had claimed as his for the last few weeks, only allowing Robin and you to enter, or at least not glared at you when you did.
And there he was, as if waiting for you. Reading one of the novels you had recommended, or at least pretending to when you came in, but you didn’t have to know that.
“How are you liking it so far?”
“It’s good. The central issue about society’s perspective and expectations on lesbian relationships is quite eye-opening.”
“Isn’t it? I spent half the book angry and wanting to scream at the villain's blatant misogyny and homophobia.”
“Yeah, her husband is an asshole. The sex was quite good, though.” He smirked, wanting to tease you.
“Ugh, I knew you would say that. You are such a man.” You rolled your eyes but continued to smile.
“Forgive me, cannot help it, no matter how much I try.” He closed the book, “But you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy the vivid and vastly pictorial smut scenes?”
You blushed, remembering said parts, “maybe...” Avoided his stare.
“Mm...” He hummed, clearly pleased with your reaction.
"Ehem." Before he could say anything else, your boyfriend hawked loudly, announcing his presence. All colour abandoned your face, and while you technically weren’t doing anything wrong, you also knew Zoro wasn’t stupid and could perfectly catch the conversation’s subtone.
You were flirting with the surgeon.
“You think you are real fucking cute throwing yourself at the fucking doctor, huh?” His fingers were threaded across your hair, making sure you didn’t pull away.
Your ass cheeks were now as red as the blood in your veins, purple beginning to peek; your knees ached just as much against the floor of the crow’s nest, and black mascara tears ran down your face as your boyfriend choked you on his cock.
You gagged as the tip punched the back of your throat. Lips swollen, jaw burning and saliva and tears ran down your throat, but hearts filled up your pupils, loving every single second of your punishment. You ran your tongue on the underside, tracing his veins, making him groan.
“Do I have to remind you who you belong to, slut?” He pushed away for a second, allowing you to gasp for air and barely give him an answer.
“Zoro...” You whined, but he pushed himself deeper down your throat, shutting you up.
“Who, baby?”
“I’m yours, daddy.” Your voice is shaky and broken by the lack of oxygen.
“Then act like it.” He shoved himself back and continued his assault on your mouth for a couple of minutes; the only thing that could be heard was the sound of you choking and his laboured breathing.
When he pulled out, he wasn't gentle about it, immediately ordering you to get on your hands and knees on the bench, not bothering to put the cushion under you. You gasped for air, heaving, but quick to comply. He gave your bottom a couple of harsh slaps, ones that would surely leave a mark, exactly what he wanted.
“I’m sorry, daddy!” You cried out, desperate.
He hummed in response, not impressed.
Zoro pushed his pants down, just enough to pull himself out. He was hard as a rock, his dark, red tip pointing to the ceiling, drops of precum already escaping from it. He spent a couple of seconds looking at his work of art, his handprints decorating your skin, your hole clenching around nothing and leaking out, wetting the wood under you, begging for him. He tugged on his cock, jerking himself and pushing the head against one of your cheeks, teasing you. You whimpered and whined his name, but he just spanked you again.
“Tell me what you want.”
“Fuck me, daddy. Please, please, fuck me.”
He bent over, pressing his chest against your back, his hand lifted your face and squeezed your cheeks, “You are mine to fuck, mine to breed, no one else’s. Don’t you dare forget about it, slut.” He slammed himself inside your tight hole, no warning.
“Fuck, Zoro!” You screamed, almost losing your balance, but he didn’t care.
Your thighs trembled, eyes on the back of your head and hands gripping the bench, the little sanity you had left. You knew what the consequences would be when you began your little game with the Heart Captain, but this was way better than anything you could ever imagine. Sure, your boyfriend is usually rough and relentless, but this was borderline animalistic. No regard for your poor pussy or throat, he turned you into a fuck toy, his fuck toy.
His pelvis slams against your bottom, his balls slapping on your clit, and his cock tearing you open. His breathing is heavy and abrupt, deep groans come out of his chest, and you can hear your name in between them. You moan and scream his name with every thrust, your nerves on fire and the knot in your belly threatening to snap any second now.
“Who’s fuckin you this good, woman?”
“You, Zoro!” You can barely articulate.
“Who?” He thrusts even deeper.
“Shit!” you hold tighter onto the wood, “you, daddy!”
The head pressed against that spot that had you seeing stars, and Zoro knew it, continuing to bully it until you reached your climax. One of his hands came down, circling and playing with your clit, making you clench harder around him.
“I’m gonna cum, oh gods, daddy!” Pleasure burned inside you, your head underwater and every inch of your body ignited.
“Cum with me, baby.” His other hand pushed you harsher against, making you meet his thrusts. You could feel him right on your cervix, “gonna cum inside you, baby. You are mine. I’m gonna breed you, then that fucking surgeon will think twice before trying to take what’s mine. Gonna knock you, baby. Y’gonna be full of me, woman.” A mixture of jealousy, pussy drunkenness and possessiveness concocted inside his brain, but you were too far gone at this point to even think about it.
“Cum inside me, daddy, please, please...” You blabbered.
The feeling of his essence filling you up pushed you over the edge, making you scream his name and sending you gasping down the bench, not able to support your body anymore. His cock is still inside you, and your walls are clenching around it, milking out everything he’s got left.
He pressed his face against your neck, catching his breath, then kissed your ear, whispering “good girl” before pulling out. His cum spilt out, but his fingers pushed it inside, not wanting anything to be wasted.
Zoro was awake before the rest of the crew. Lifting weights and keeping watch for any possible danger, but also watching out for a certain individual whom he couldn’t wait to get rid of.
The sun was barely visible, the clouds tinted in purple and orange tones, the breeze was calm and warming, the waves were at ease, and after last night, the uncertainty in his heart had also found some peace, at least for now. But he could never be too careful.
Zoro sighed, feeling his muscles growing tense. He could feel him before even hearing him, “Morning, Trafalgar.”
He grumbled a greeting back. Tiredness and fatigue in his voice.
“Trouble sleeping, doctor?” Your boyfriend teased, a playful smirk on his face.
Law hummed.
“Mm, sorry if we kept you awake. You know how she can be.” Zoro continued.
“No worries, Zoro-ya.” He said as he entered the kitchen, longing for a cup of coffee, “I’m sure soon I’ll get to see it myself.”
Zoro turned his face to look at him, bewildered by the comment, but was only met with the kitchen door closing.
Imagine Luffy’s advice to Zoro when you’re mad at the swordsman…
Zoro watched - or rather seethed - from the floor above as Sanji refilled your near-empty cup. The cook wasn’t flirting - no, he was comforting you which was infinitely worse.
There was a sudden, firm pat on his shoulder as Luffy approached with a smile in his voice. “Isn’t this place great?” He beamed. “Why are you hiding up here?”
Zoro tensed slightly. “I’m figuring out a way to handle a fight.”
“Are your swords not enough?” Luffy asked innocently, genuinely concerned that his friend wasn’t equipped well.
“This is a different kind of fight.”
Luffy hummed. He went quiet and Zoro could only assume that the Straw Hat wearing boy had followed his gaze. “Oh, I see.” Luffy finally said. “Shanks said that not all battles had to end in a sword fight. Maybe yours is the same.”
The comment was more to himself but the words rang true. His captain was right. While Zoro wasn’t going to challenge you to a duel, action might not be right approach - maybe it was words.
Naturally, Zoro hated conversations but he quickly discovered that your cold shoulder was worse. If he would fight an Emperor of the Sea for you, he could talk this out.
With a nod, Zoro kept his eyes locked onto where you sat at the bar. “Thanks, Luffy.”
Luffy chuckled. “For what? Oh, is that another tray of meat sandwiches?” The distracted Captain laughed with excitement and rushed off at the sight of a large platter.
Zoro took a long swig of his beer and pushed off the railing. He turned towards the stairs and began to descend it, avoiding any of the too-bubbly patrons.
Zoro approached you quietly and the cook-turned-bartender took the cue to leave. He leaned against the countertop, a single barstool bridging the distance between you.
“I don’t like that you’re mad at me.” Zoro said, noting how you didn’t look at him.
You took a sip of your drink and set the cup down. “I don’t like being mad with you.”
“It’s a wonder that they’ve put up with you this long.” Mihawk chimed in his ear. “Perhaps, they’ll finally see sense to let you go.”
Zoro clenched his jaw and turned away from the vision. “So, how do we fix this?”
“I don’t know. Maybe with some time?”
“How long?” Zoro questioned.
Your head turned to him in a swift motion. “It doesn’t work like that, Zoro. Sometimes it’s a short while and other times…” you trailed off and looked away. It seemed that you didn’t want to venture down that road either.
Zoro wasn’t afraid of a great many things, including death. But this uncertainty with you chilled his blood faster than the change in Grand Line weather.
He was going to fix this before leaving Whiskey Peak. That was his promise to you.
❝Raising their children alone can't be that bad...❞
Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro, Trafalgar Law ╱ fem!reader
Tags: fluff!!! angst, humor, reader's death, teenage pregnancy, minor spoilers from Dressrosa, spoilers about Law's past, sexual harassment, pedophilia, rape
Words count: 20k
MONKEY D. LUFFY
Sudden appearances and fated intrusions. The first time you spoke to him about these concepts, he just smiled as he listened, without fully understanding.
For a boy like him, envied by those who swore they were free under established rules, ignored by those who did not know what loneliness was, and adored by those who loved happiness, your existence was a miracle.
He was twelve years old the afternoon he met you on his way to Partys Bar.
The evening sun was warm, summer was just beginning. He took steps that almost seemed like jumps as he hummed and stroked the overgrown grass. Surely someone would come by in a few days and cut it, because there was always a good neighbour who cared about this area. Especially grandma Yukiko.
That old woman, with grey strands so long they touched her knees and a white dress down to her ankles, had frightened Luffy more than once. She looked like a ghost if you saw her at night. Ace teased him for crying the first time, when he was eight years old and saw her returning from visiting Makino.
His older brother knew her. Despite being a serious boy, he often saw him shopping for the lady. And soon he joined him.
Passing by her cottage meant praying that she was well. She lived alone, amid leaks that reappeared every rainy day, yellowed, peeling windows with broken shutters, and creaky wooden steps at the entrance. The neighbours' proposal to find her a new place had been declined multiple times. Lady Yukiko did not want to move from her beloved home where she had grown up, nor did she want the brothers Dadan was raising to waste their energy on an old person like her.
Luffy understood her loneliness.
And he couldn't accept it.
Over the years, he became friends with that woman, sometimes having breakfast with her, other times singing and dancing to the rhythm of her guitar, played with the same passion of her youth despite the arthritis that bothered her.
He adjusted his hat, smiling as he heard her playing the guitar, opening the small unlocked door as if it were his home. He was about to shout at the top of his lungs so that the woman would hear him, but he stopped in his tracks, looking up at the ceiling.
Raising her head and wiping her sweat with her forearm, there was a girl. She held a hammer in her hand and a clove in her mouth, frowning in concentration.
Luffy tilted his head to one side curiously. She seemed to be his age. Or maybe a year older or younger? He opened his mouth to call out to her, but was interrupted by Yukiko.
"Luffy? You're back again? Kid, I told you to stop doing that. You should be enjoying your youth, not hanging around with this old woman."
You looked down at the garden, glimpsing only a straw hat with a red ribbon around it. You couldn't hear the conversation very well, and you weren't interested anyway. You had to replace some old wooden beams in the roof and fix the leaks. It was the least you could do while staying with your grandmother.
By the time Luffy finished entertaining Yukiko with his stories about training with his brother, the beasts he defeated in the forest, and his new attacks with his devil fruit, he looked for you again, but couldn't find you anywhere.
In the long run, you became a mystery he wanted to solve. No one could stop Luffy's curiosity. Especially when he had a fixed goal. And that goal was you.
Every afternoon he returned to visit the old woman, and day after day he found you doing something new. Removing the shutters, sanding the old wood and painting it a soft green. Sweeping the whole place. Mowing the lawn. Replacing the wooden steps. Painting the door the same colour as the windows. Cleaning all the glasses. Planting flowers all over the garden.
For two months, Luffy just sat next to Yukiko for tea, watching you do everything, without speaking to you yet. The little he had gathered about you only told him your name, that you were his age, and that you were the granddaughter of the owner of this cottage. Unlike him, you seemed like a more serious girl, which filled him with curiosity. He liked to play. You should like to play too.
That was his biggest undertaking that year. Especially when summer came to an end and you opened a flower shop there. Suddenly, this place seemed to come back to life, and Yukiko looked happier than she had since you came into her life. Not a single day went by without the cottage looking resplendent, the scent of flowers filling the air and delighting everyone who came to shop.
Your bouquets became famous in Foosha. Luffy saw the effort behind them every day. The care you took with your garden and the instructions your grandmother gave you so that everything would be perfect. Another difference he had noticed. You were good at taking advice, you didn't always do what you wanted. You knew when to stop and listen to your elders.
When he mentioned it to Ace, he just replied that he was a wild child of the forest. And you were a little princess who lived among flowers.
It was Makino's birthday that sparked your story.
Luffy was desperate. He didn't know what to give the woman. He wasn't as good as Ace at robbing nobles, and his brother didn't do it anymore. In fact, he had done a few odd jobs to buy her a nice, inexpensive necklace. He was the only one without a gift. Even the mountain bandits had pooled their money to buy her a ring! Oh, Luffy was bad with birthdays. Would Makino get angry if he gave her meat wrapped in paper?
The little rubber boy sighed, twirling his hat between his hands, leaning against the wooden floor of Yukiko's cottage. The cool air hit his face, relaxing him as it carried the scent of flowers for him to enjoy.
"Are you here again? Don't you have any other friends?"
He placed his hat on his chest and looked up at you. You had your hands on your hips and your brow furrowed. The apron you were wearing was covered in dirt and old mud stains.
"I only have Ace."
"Well, go to him."
"I can't! He's at the bar showing Makino his gift, and I'm the only one who doesn't have anything for her."
The pout he made brought a mocking smile to your face.
"Why don't you say it's a gift from both of you?"
"Ace will hit me."
You nodded slowly. You had no reason to help him, but your grandmother adored him. You had grown accustomed to his presence and to hearing him laugh over the past two months. Seeing him now, defeated and pouting, was not pleasant. You turned on your heels and entered the cottage. What used to be the living room was now the flower shop. There you prepared bouquets under your grandmother's instructions.
"Then give her some flowers. Is she allergic to pollen?"
"What's that?"
You rolled your eyes.
"She's the woman from Partys Bar, right?"
"Yes! Makino," he said, poking his nose. You grimaced.
"Does she usually have flowers in her bar?"
"Under the window and on the counter."
You nodded again, looking for a pot. Luffy followed you closely, standing next to you at the counter. The tiny spade caught his attention and he picked it up. There was a huge bag of soil nearby and other strange things. Everything you did, your explanation of how you did it or why you had chosen purple flowers, went in one ear and out the other. Had you said something about health and prosperity? Or love and talent? Or were those other flowers? At some point he got lost, but he appreciated the red bow around the pot and the little note that said what flower it was, its meaning, and how to care for it. Makino would surely like it.
From that day on, the rubber boy stuck to you. He drew words from your mouth effortlessly, making you laugh, tease him, and follow his jokes. Luffy was captivated by your smile. Little by little, you loosened up around him, and your grandmother liked that too. A twelve-year-old girl should be just that, a girl, and not someone who was forced to grow up too quickly.
As the months went by, Luffy learned your story. The death of your parents and the long search you undertook until you found your maternal grandmother moved him. The fact that he was your first friend somehow made him happy. It was no longer just Ace and him in his life. Now it included you too.
The day you met Ace, you were already thirteen years old. Something stirred inside Luffy when he saw you blush in front of his brother. He didn't understand what it was, why his heart tightened and made him frown. He didn't understand why that expression came out with the freckled one, and he only got a pinch of the nose from you. But he never asked.
That feeling vanished as quickly as his brother showed him the big bear he had hunted. Inviting you to Dadan's house with the bandits had been quite an experience. They had behaved so politely when they saw lady Yukiko's granddaughter, who was carrying a basket full of plants. Lots of colourful flowers to plant in their cabin, you had said. They were surprised to see someone so sweet with Luffy. The contrast between your white dress with tiny red flowers printed on it and the scruffy appearance of the rubber boy (who was forced to bathe) made more than one person sigh.
And when you finally met Makino, you never imagined you would receive so much love from someone. She was so warm, like a mother caring for her children. She welcomed you with open arms, praising your work and showing you how well she had cared for the plant that Luffy had given her on her last birthday. Now it looked bigger. She had learned how to propagate it with grandma Yukiko. The food you tasted at her bar was unmatched, and fighting with Luffy so he wouldn't eat your portions was daring.
Before you knew it, you were both fourteen. You loved running through the forest playing hide and seek. Chasing each other around like fools until you ended up exhausted. The laughter that escaped from within you filled the place, bringing huge smiles to Luffy's face.
It hadn't been long since he had nervously visited Makino, thinking he was ill. He told her how his heart beat fast when he saw you. You could do something as simple as make a bouquet for a local man who wanted to confess his love to his girlfriend, and he would be stunned. You could run alongside him, your hair floating and bouncing in the air with every movement, and he would be mesmerised. You could talk to Ace, giggling foolishly, and he would sulk. As if something that was his had been taken away.
The woman listened patiently, smiling tenderly. She did not explain what he was feeling, merely confirming that he was not ill. If Luffy found out, he would do so on his own. No one should rush his heart. Everyone in Foosha had bet that sooner or later something would happen between the two of you. But no one knew who would be the first to make a move.
The famous confession came months after Ace set sail, beginning his life as a pirate.
He had invited you to the tree house he had built with Ace and his other brother, Sabo, whom you had only just learned existed. You understood why he had never taken you there or why he had never mentioned him, despite how long you had been friends. For Luffy, it was an important occasion. You were both fifteen years old and seventeen was closer than ever.
"My dream is to be the king of pirates," he repeated, lying down, wrapped in an old blanket.
"It's a good dream. You'll make it," you murmured sleepily the answer you always gave him when he said that to you.
"I want you to be part of my crew."
It took a great effort to half-open your eyes and stare at him dazedly. It had been a hard day and sleep was overcoming you.
"What use would a florist be to the crew? Don't be silly, Luffy. You need strong people who will protect you and who you can protect. People who will fight."
"You can always learn to use a gun or a katana," he said, turning sideways to look at you. "You can even fight with your fists like me. Or with kicks."
You rested your head on one arm, stretching out the other to pinch his nose. You liked it when it stretched. And it didn't seem to hurt him.
"I don't like to fight."
"I just want you to come with me."
"Luffy..."
"I'll protect you! You can continue being a florist. I don't need my mates to be strong, I just need us all to have a great adventure," he insisted.
The sigh you let out made him shudder.
"Why me?"
"Because I like you," he murmured, frowning.
"I like you too, Luffy. You're my best friend, you know that. But I don't think..."
He interrupted you, sitting up abruptly and looking down at your body lying there, wrapped in an old blanket. Maybe Ace's. Maybe Sabo's. Or even his own. It didn't matter.
"You don't understand. I like you in that way, and you're coming with me."
They say you never forget your first love.
Luffy certainly wouldn't. By your side, his curiosity ran wild, doing everything that came to mind. Did he see a man in Foosha kissing his girlfriend? He would ask for one too. He liked the warm, soft feeling of your lips on his. Your arms around his neck and your fingers stroking his hair, all so that you could pull away slightly and whisper that he should cut it because it was too long. He wanted to tell Ace that he had had his first kiss, and that you were his girlfriend. As if the older one hadn't been one of the many who had bet on their relationship years ago.
Holding hands, continuing to play in the forest, watching him train, watching you make bouquets of flowers, being teased by Dadan and the bandits for having a girlfriend, receiving advice from the mayor that he never listened to. His fifteen years had been crazy. Beautifully crazy.
And maybe he should have listened to the mayor, that grumpy old man who always insisted that he shouldn't become a pirate because it would be a disgrace to Foosha. Protection? Luffy didn't like to use it. He was young and careless. He did everything his own way and you just let him, because you enjoyed it as much as he did.
The consequences came a month before you turned sixteen, when you got pregnant.
It was the biggest event in the village. The cheerful little boy everyone adored was going to be a father. A teenage father.
More than one adult scolded the two of you. Dadan went crazy after hearing the news, being held back by the bandits when she tried to hit Luffy, and everyone agreed not to tell Ace yet. There was no way to contact him either. Makino just looked at them. Her heart ached. Seeing Luffy about to have a child interfered with the image she had of him as a little boy, crying on the dock, clutching his straw hat to his chest because Shanks was leaving. The mayor shouted as he entered the bar, hitting Luffy on the head with his cane for not listening to him, doing the opposite of what he told him to do.
And your grandmother, that old woman who had lived so much in her life... The sigh that escaped her lips made you sob. She didn't have the strength to shout at you. She hadn't had any strength lately. Getting out of bed was impossible for her, so she relied on you to bathe and feed her. She didn't know if she would be there on the day you gave birth.
It certainly wasn't the life she wanted for you. Discovering that she had a granddaughter and that her daughter had died consumed her. She did her best for you, giving you what little she had. Now all she could do was support you in this new stage of your life.
Because having a child as a teenager would bring many difficulties into your life. Difficulties for which you were not prepared. But you would not be the first or the last woman to go through this experience.
Luffy was twelve when he met you.
And he was sixteen when he lost you.
He didn't know what had gone wrong.
He didn't understand.
He didn't want to understand.
He wanted to cry out loud, but the tears stopped as soon as he heard soft babbling. Dadan tried to explain. You had suffered a haemorrhage after giving birth. The baby was in perfect condition. She was a healthy girl. The information didn't register in his brain, he could only hold her in his arms with tears running down his cheeks.
He didn't want to lose anyone else.
He had to be strong.
No one else was going to take care of that girl. She was his girl. Yours.
The first month was torture. He didn't understand what to do. He didn't understand how to change a nappy or how he was supposed to bathe her if he couldn't put her in the water. And the baby wouldn't eat meat either. How could she not eat meat? If it weren't for Dadan and Makino, everything would have been a disaster. The women raised the girl in her first months, feeding her, bathing her, changing her nappies and dressing her up cute. They were delighted. She was a sweet girl, with Luffy's huge eyes and smile.
And when the long-awaited day arrived, everyone was anxious.
Luffy was already seventeen years old. He would set sail to fulfil his dream in a tiny boat, with only a barrel of provisions and a baby in his arms.
He had learned everything he needed to know from the women around him. Dadan and the other bandits watched them from behind a building, not wanting to alarm the inhabitants of Foosha, who hated them but had come to say goodbye to their beloved Luffy. Her heart beat with longing as she looked at the baby. At her babies. First Ace had left. Now Luffy and his little one. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn't stop the passage of time, she couldn't deprive these kids of their dreams or of living up to their expectations.
They watched him set sail, barely knowing how to change her nappy or feed her properly. Had it been a mistake? Should they have told him that they would raise her until he returned home? That the girl would grow up safe and sound in Foosha, in her mother's old cottage, witnessing her great-grandmother's final moments? Even if they had suggested that, lady Yukiko had begged the rubber boy to take the girl with him. No one knew how she had whispered that she didn't have much time left, that the baby would have no one there and would constantly ask for her parents or why they had abandoned her. No one but Luffy, who took her hand and promised to take care of her on his journey.
Now Luffy was leaving, and everyone prayed that he would find a good crew that would know how to help him.
He found them little by little.
First came Zoro. The events leading up to him joining the crew as the first member had not been seen by the baby, so he choked when Koby handed a little girl to Luffy, bidding them farewell so they could continue their adventure.
Zoro went crazy, not knowing what to do. He was more alert than ever, his hand on his katanas at the slightest sign of danger. He shook Luffy more than once, upset. His captain had a daughter. A baby girl just a few months old who babbled and squeezed the swordsman's finger with her tiny hand, laughing when she looked at him intently with eyes as big as those of the boy in front of him. He had to learn how to change nappies and prepare bottles. But they didn't understand how to bathe her.
The addition of Usopp and Nami to the crew was a blessing. The short haired woman knew how to navigate, and the long nosed man had secured a good ship for everyone. Their reactions to the baby were not the best.
Usopp was terrified, consumed by uncertainty. How would she survive the Grand Line? How would he survive? The fear haunting his soul faded with each passing day as he watched her crawl across the deck, giggling foolishly into the air every time the sun caressed her face. She often approached him, taking the things Usopp bought in her hands, preventing him from continuing to work because he had to watch her so she wouldn't swallow anything or hurt herself, but his heart warmed when he saw her. She was a cheerful and curious child. It seemed that when she grew up, she would like to build or fix things.
Nami had to sit down and listen to the whole story, apologising to Luffy for doubting him and Zoro, her harsh words about them kidnapping the girl dying on her lips.
The short haired woman unwittingly took on the role of aunt, following the baby everywhere. Her weakness for children was palpable from the moment they met her, and they could only watch as she took over the tasks they had been doing. The strange coloured baby purees that Zoro prepared were replaced by tastier and more edible ones. The bottles that Luffy gave her were almost replaced.
"Nami, feed her!"
"Huh? I already gave her porridge a few hours ago," she said, drawing a map.
"But she's hungry, she keeps babbling."
The woman looked up. Luffy was standing in front of her, arms outstretched, showing her daughter who was sucking on her fist.
"Luffy, go play."
"Feed her."
Her eye twitched.
"She's not hungry."
"You have boobs, feed her."
Nami took the baby from his arms. The blow Luffy received sent him flying out of the kitchen and onto the deck floor.
Sanji joining in was all Nami needed. Now she had more help. The blond had adored his captain's daughter from the moment he saw her at the Baratie.
"What's the princess's name?" he asked, leaning on the deck railing.
He tried to smoke away from her, watching the girl playing with Zoro's katanas, who was asleep on the floor. The pretty dress with a mandarin print indicated that Nami had taken good care of her. He didn't want to imagine what her first days at sea had been like, with only the swordsman and the rubber boy.
Luffy looked up, swallowing his meat.
"Nika."
"Nika?" Sanji murmured. "That's a strange name."
"Makino wouldn't let me name her Niku."
"Of course not!" Nami shouted, hitting him on the head.
"How could you call her meat, Luffy?" Usopp shook his head.
The journey was full of adventures. When Chopper joined them, the little one examined the baby to see if she had any pain or illness. It was a miracle that she was healthy so far. That whatever Nami had contracted had not affected her.
It was at night that the navigator watched her captain most closely.
Luffy used to spend every night on the Grand Line with his daughter by his side. He would sit on the deck with her between his legs, stretching his rubber fingers and making his little girl do the same. After a few hours, in the stillness of the sea and under the stars, they would both fall asleep. The captain would wrap his arms protectively around her, as if afraid she would slip through his fingers. If a tear or two escaped in his sleep, Nami said nothing.
Nika's mother was never mentioned. If Luffy was suffering, he would always pretend to be fine. Everything was hidden behind huge smiles.
The arrival in Alabasta had everyone on edge. The heat was so intense that it could almost rival the fires of hell. Chopper and Nami took care of Nika, keeping her hydrated and in the shade to prevent heatstroke. They would have preferred to stay on the Going Merry, but circumstances required them to remain alert.
That's why Luffy's brother's visit was ideal.
"Oi, Luffy, didn't Y/N come with you? I thought you'd still be obsessed with bringing her along," said the freckled man, drinking his beer.
The rubber boy tensed up and then smiled, biting his lip. A cry echoed through the ship, causing Ace to frown.
"Did you guys kidnap a baby?"
"No!" They all shouted.
Chopper left the room, moving his short legs carefully, trying to calm Nika down. Long arms picked her up, and the last thing Chopper saw was the baby flying through the air.
"Luffy! Don't do that!" the doctor screamed.
"Shishishi, it's okay," he placed the baby in front of Ace. "Look!"
The commander of Whitebeard's second division tensed up. A baby. There was a baby in front of him. She didn't look like anyone else there. And those big, bright eyes.
"Luffy..."
"Doesn't she look just like Y/N? Makino said she looked like me, but I think she smiles like Y/N."
"Luffy."
"Dadan told me not to bring her because it was dangerous. Even the mayor tried to convince me."
"Luffy!"
The boy looked at him with tears in his eyes, but without losing his smile.
"I'm all she has."
It didn't take long for the eldest brother to understand the situation.
The answer to your absence was right in front of him.
That girl who ran through the forest, playing freely after working at her flower shop for a plate of food, that girl who took time to watch her little brother's training sessions and congratulate him when he won, that girl who burst into Dadan's cabin holding Luffy's hand to eat with them, making a place for herself among the bandits, that girl he had nicknamed little princess. That girl was no longer among them.
She had taken his brother's love with her and, in gratitude, had left the baby he held in his arms. Only memories would take care of Luffy on this journey.
Ace did not scold him, not when he himself was a mess.
For a while, he stayed on the Going Merry, looking after his niece while the crew completed their mission. Nika's clothes were stored in a drawer in Nami's wardrobe. The number of patterns and colours he saw left him in no doubt. The navigator loved the little girl and treated her like her own doll. The commander of Whitebeard's second division had fun with her, watching her crawl around the deck, smear her face with ice cream made by Sanji, and play in the water in the tiny pool Usopp had built for her.
The following adventures were crazy for everyone. The addition of Robin, Franky, and Brook to the crew had brought more joy to their lives.
Luffy enjoyed watching the archaeologist tend to her plants. The sweet smile on his face gave the woman an idea of what he might be thinking.
"Y/N had a flower shop," he said casually. "It seems Nika likes flowers too."
The little girl played with the dirt and occasionally touched Robin's flowers. Luffy stroked her hair. She would soon be one year old. If it weren't for his friends, he wasn't sure he would have been able to raise her. He needed them. He needed the help of others and would never say otherwise. Sanji fed her. Nami bought her cute clothes that a little girl would wear. Usopp made her laugh. Zoro protected her. Chopper took care of her health. Robin let her play in her garden and had offered to be her teacher when she was old enough. Franky made toys for her. Brook played songs and made her clap her hands.
Would Y/N be happy to see them? Would she be proud of him? Would she smile when she saw how grown up Nika was? Would she like her name or would she think it was silly? Would she have liked to accompany him on this adventure or would she have told him she would wait for his return in Foosha?
His lower lip trembled.
"You're doing an amazing job, Luffy."
The affection in Robin's voice made the rubber boy hold back a sob.
"Not everyone would do what you did. You brought hope to the lives of everyone in the crew, and you gave us a great gift," the archaeologist smiled kindly at him. "It's difficult to raise a baby in her early years, but we'll all help you. Just like you helped us."
No one but the two of them and little Nika knew about that conversation. For some reason, Robin seemed to understand him very well. Always with good advice to give. Always trusting him.
The passage of time made Dadan anxious. Every year in Foosha, they prepared a party for Nika. Her first year of life, her second year, her third year, her fourth year. All were celebrated by the bandits, Makino, and the mayor.
And like them, the Straw Hats also celebrated.
"Come back here, Nika!" Usopp shouted, running across the Sunny.
The five year old girl burst out laughing as she jumped from the second floor onto the deck. Nami held her breath. Zoro didn't have time to react. And Luffy caught her in his arms, laughing.
Her brown curls bounced from side to side with every step she took. She was a girl with a lot of energy. The older she got, the more grey hairs she gave some people. Jinbe used to say that she would be worse when she turned ten. And at twenty, she would be a force of nature. Robin laughed, covering her mouth, thinking that maybe her name had something to do with it.
Her name, which had caused problems with the world government more than once. It took them two years to discover its meaning and why, when it became public knowledge that the Straw Hat Yonko had a daughter, some adored her and others sought to kill her. The only one who managed to lay a hand on Nika, squeezing her arm until it bruised, suffered a painful death at the hands of Luffy. He was not a violent man, at least not without a purpose. He did not kill. But he would do anything for his little girl.
"Sanji-san, can I have some more ice cream, please?" she asked when she saw him coming out of the kitchen.
They still remembered the night they asked the girl who her favourite member of the crew was. They thought she would say Luffy, after all, he was her father. But her answer was Sanji, because he cooked her everything she asked for. Then they fought for second place without receiving any comment from Nika confirming or denying who had it.
The bright eyed girl ran towards him after letting go of her father, hugging his leg and looking at him sweetly. Sanji smiled tenderly, ruffling her hair.
"Today you'll have all the food you want."
"You spoil her too much, shitty cook."
Zoro growled as he walked towards him. Although he wouldn't admit it, the fact that Nika didn't choose him as her favourite hurt his pride. He was the first one in the crew to change her nappy. He even had to cook for her.
"You're one to talk, stupid marimo. I saw you lending her your wado ichimonji the other day."
The two began to fight, distancing themselves from the girl.
Luffy climbed into his special seat on the lion's head, watching his crew interact with his daughter with a smile from ear to ear.
"Beautiful Nika, your favourite song," exclaim Brook, taking the little girl’s hand and spinning her around.
His violin played a tune familiar to all, followed by their voices.
"Yohohoho, yohohoho!"
"Sudden appearances and fated intrusions? I still don't understand."
You looked at him amused. It was the third time you had explained it to him.
"It's when..."
A person suddenly appears in your life, unaware of how timely their presence is. Using a force that is not force, they make a space for themselves in your daily life. You forget what your life was like before them, because every second by their side feels as if destiny had planned it all.
Luffy stretched out his rubber arm, slipping between his friends, until he managed to gently place his straw hat on his daughter's head.
He had been that person in your life. It had taken him several years to understand it. Only now, seeing the smile of his little girl, who was growing more like you every day, did he understand.
"Dad, come play with me!"
"I always beat you! I'll only do it for a prize."
Nami smiled happily, listening to them shouting at each other across the distance between them, something that had become normal since Nika started talking.
"Fine! If I win, I'll have all your meat for a day," shouted the girl, adjusting the straw hat on her head as she looked up at the man who loved her most.
Robin, Jinbe, Franky, and Brook laughed.
"Okay, but if I win..."
Usopp and Zoro agreed among themselves that he would ask for the same thing, all of his daughter's meat. Sanji, Nami, and Chopper agreed. He never asked her for much. He even let her win just to see her laugh.
Luffy let out a soft "shishishi" as he closed his eyes.
"I want a bouquet of flowers."
RORONOA ZORO
He never regretted his actions.
Every step he took, every decision he made, and every word he used had made him the man he was. His confidence did not waver in encounters that could push him to the brink of life and death. His confidence did not waver when someone stronger than him stood in his way, demanding a fight. His confidence did not waver when he had to protect those he loved. And it certainly did not waver when he had to be tough to control a situation.
That's why his imbalance upon meeting you baffled him.
It didn't make sense. Not to him.
Dressrosa was a lively kingdom. Its people danced to the rhythm of guitars under clear skies. Children played with various toys as they roamed the streets. Restaurants were packed with tourists. Zoro had only one mission: to find Luffy.
The sudden excited shouts caught his attention as he approached the city centre. Outside the Coliseum, a huge screen was broadcasting an event, and the inhabitants were watching the spectacle. He didn't know the reasons for the competition, but anything that involved a good fight appealed to him. However, he was forced to be just another spectator. Registration had closed.
And his search had not been a failure. He shook his head, adjusting his fake moustache, watching his captain compete against a whole block of experienced fighters. He couldn't say he had gotten himself into a mess. He wasn't breaking any of Trafalgar Law's rules. His straw hat was covered, and he was wearing a helmet, a beard, and a cape. He had even changed his name. He could relax, they wouldn't find him out.
Watching Luffy win entertained him. He was the most reliable person he knew. Whatever he was trying to achieve, he would succeed.
Or so he believed until he saw you appear.
A swordswoman. Two katanas.
There were few swordswomen he had ever met. His interest grew uncontrollably.
Your movements were graceful. Your turns were controlled, precise. The way you dodged your opponents made him grip his wado ichimonji tightly. There was something about your katanas that drew him to look at them closely. They were cursed. Could they be better than his? Could you withstand an impact with all his strength? What was your goal? Why were you a swordswoman? Your next attack made him smirk. In front of you were ten men ready to defeat you with their own weapons and fists, but you remained impassive. Your extreme concentration and the constant twirling of both katanas caused a tornado. He unconsciously read your lips. It was just an inaudible whisper to everyone else, but Zoro could understand you. Pandora's Delirium.
That single attack started your story.
Dressrosa became a nightmare. The Coliseum had collapsed due to an attack by Lucy, who had been crowned the winner of the event. By the time you managed to crawl out from under the rubble, pressing your palm to your bleeding forehead, the sunlight greeted you. You felt frustrated. You wanted the prize, you wanted to see if a swordswoman was stronger with a Devil Fruit, but once again you had to stick to your superior katanas. You trusted them and yourself in using them, but it felt distant. Your skill was no match for him. You were not close to defeating him yet.
You walked through those streets that had welcomed you with such joy. Their inhabitants were now crying and shouting. You didn't understand what was happening, but it didn't take you long to find out. The complaints and pleas were clear. What they were asking for was clear. The removal of their king.
A beeping sound deafened your ears. Doflamingo's voice echoed throughout the place. His face was seen on different screens. You looked at the blood on your hand, growling under your breath as you slid down a yellow-painted wall until you sat on the floor. As you looked up at the screen, a photo appeared. They were offering a reward for him.
Roronoa Zoro.
Your eyes sparkled as a contemptuous smile appeared on your face. So he was here. That swordsman from the Straw Hat Pirates. The one you had been watching for two years, following his progress in the newspapers as his bounty grew and he gradually became a promise of legend. His fighting style with three katanas caught your attention. Even if you tried, you couldn't control the third one in your mouth. But that was fine. He had his style. You had yours.
Knowing that he was in the same place as you, that somehow life had brought you together, excited you. You wanted to see him in action. With any luck, challenge him to a fight. And if you had time, ask him his motivation.
The blow to your forehead had left you disoriented. So much, that you thought you had hallucinated a speck of green hair flying in front of you, towards a huge stone person. How bad had the blow been?
As the minutes passed, the truth revealed itself. A city inhabitant was bandaging your head, asking you questions that you answered disinterestedly, your attention focused on the conversation a couple further ahead were having. Monkey D. Luffy had defeated Doflamingo, and Dressrosa once again had its former ruler. Everyone seemed to be living more peacefully, not caring if they became poor in the future. As long as they were happy and with their families and loved ones, that was enough.
You stood up and thanked the person who healed you. He tried to insist that you stay seated longer, saying something about shock, but you just refused as you took confident steps. You wanted to get to the hill. To the cabin where they said the straw hats were.
Zoro kept his eyes closed, but his rest was not continuous. He woke up at the slightest sound. The marine was still in the city and was not yet looking for them. He did not understand the reason, his main concern was that Luffy would heal so they could escape. Especially after Sabo's words.
He opened his eyes at the sound of jingling. Bells? Who could be announcing their presence so loudly? They must be confident enough not to hide. He took his wado ichimonji and opened the door, closing it behind him. He would only intervene if someone tried to attack his friends.
His steps stopped short when he looked ahead. In that field of flowers, completely surrounded by them and smiling broadly, was she. Two katanas. Incredible strength radiated from her.
Now that he could see them up close, he could notice the small details. You looked like a girl who left her mark on every object. A symbol of your existence. Silver bells hung from the handles of your katanas, jingling as they moved and collided with each other.
"You..."
"Roronoa Zoro, I want a duel."
"That sounds fun!" Someone shouted from the doorway.
You tilted your head to one side. It was the captain. His hair was sticking out in all directions; he looked like he had just woken up.
"Luffy, this isn't the time. We have to run away, the marine wants to capture us."
Nico Robin's melodious voice reached your ears. The woman spoke with an almost maternal gentleness and sweetness as she peeked through the door to see what was happening. Zoro watched you closely.
"It'll be quick. I'll defeat you," you insisted.
"Zoro is the strongest," said the boy in the straw hat, putting his hands behind his head.
"Why are you a swordswoman?" That deep voice rang in your ears, your attention focused on him in seconds.
It was impossible not to look at him. You were finally face to face with him.
"I want to defeat the red haired yonko, Shanks."
Absolute silence. Whether Luffy started a commotion upon hearing the name of the man who inspired him to become a pirate, whether Robin giggled, or whether Franky, who had just woken up, got excited about the idea, none of that mattered. Not when you had Zoro in front of you, smiling sideways, as if he saw something in you that no one else noticed.
"I've made up my mind! You're joining my crew."
Moments like that, where you lose all ability to make your own decisions, where your life undergoes drastic changes without you asking for them, happen. They had convinced you. You had heard the story from your now captain about the original owner of his hat, and you just burst out laughing, explaining that you didn't want to kill Shanks. You had faced him three years ago, when you were still a self-centred young woman who believed she could defeat anyone. The reality check he gave you when he defeated you while laughing at you, amused by the situation, was the catalyst for a new objective. A new goal.
What's more, you could train with Roronoa Zoro. Measure your strength against his. Find out what motivated him to improve. And one day have that duel that was left unfinished in Dressrosa.
Since then, every day of your life has been filled with chaos. Nami's shouts scolding Luffy and Usopp, Sanji's constant flirting and his delicious dishes, Robin's weird comments that made you laugh and her sudden compliments that made you blush, watching Franky build something new with incredible utility, listening to Brook play his instruments and invite you to sing with him (only to later ask you about your underwear), the dedicated training sessions with Zoro that left you panting on the deck, and Chopper's concern as he tended to you and grew larger to carry you to the infirmary.
You had fun. They were all unique, with different personalities, and they all got along and loved each other just as they were, without asking anyone to change.
You liked having sleepovers with Nami and Robin, using the face masks that the navigator prepared or having the archaeologist paint your nails. You liked playing with Chopper, pretending to have some illness so he would treat you. You liked joking around with Luffy and running around with him all over the Sunny Go. You liked trying Sanji's desserts and being the judge who gave him the highest scores.
The comfort that embraced you after a few weeks was, without you knowing it, what you had needed your whole life. The warmth they brought to your life made your journey no longer so lonely. Now you had friends.
Zoro could only watch.
When you thought he was asleep and didn't dare speak to him, he waited for you to turn away before opening his eye and observing you. When you thought he would deliver the final blow in training, he simply reached out his hand to help you to your feet. When you thought you would go alone to visit an island, he accompanied you. No wonder you ended up lost, because he was a stubborn man.
"Zoro, it's that way," you groan, pointing to a path that led to a village.
"No, woman. I'm telling you it's that way."
There was no way you could get to the shop to buy map paper if you went into the forest.
Your time together became constant. You used to fall asleep next to him after training, being found by Chopper who hid behind whatever he could find so you wouldn't notice him. He didn't want to wake you when you looked so peaceful, his mission to heal you interrupted. He couldn't do it when you had your head on his shoulder and he had his resting against yours, as if you'd done that a thousand times before.
Soon it became normal for Zoro to clumsily treat your wounds.
"Not so tight!" you shouted when his bandage on your thigh made it hurt more.
All you achieved was him tightening it even more. And then he loosened it as you requested.
"You complain a lot."
"You're a brute."
"Ah?!"
You used to stay on the Sunny Go to keep watch with him while everyone else visited a new island. You could catch glimpses of his smiles out of the corner of your eye, and when you least expected it, he started laughing beside you. It felt so natural to hear him laugh that you didn't notice Nami and Robin's questioning looks. Or Usopp's jokes.
At banquets, you moved from place to place, enjoying yourself and laughing with everyone. One second you were shoulder to shoulder with Franky dancing, and the next you were stealing Zoro's alcohol while he looked at you with a soft smile.
"I think that's enough for you today."
"I can!" The green-haired man raised an eyebrow when he heard you. "I can keep drinking... I swear."
"Don't lie to me."
"I swear, Zoro."
"I'll take you to bed," he murmured just for you.
Amidst the music and fun, Zoro walked with you on his shoulder. Everyone was oblivious to the situation unfolding between you. To the feelings that were beginning to blossom.
That night was the first time Zoro felt nervous around you. Nervous about his feelings. Nervous about an experience he had never had before. It wasn't like fighting someone powerful and feeling like he was losing. It was like fighting his heart and feeling like he was losing a battle he hadn't asked for. It was like fighting his urge to kiss you even though he didn't really know how to do it, as he watched you lying on your bed, covered with a pink blanket, looking at him with bright, curious eyes.
"Zoro?"
Why did his name feel good on your lips? Why did your lips seem to shine brighter after you licked them? Why did everything seem easier when he was drunk?
"Sleep."
"Zoro... Stay. I sleep better with you by my side."
Those were the words of alcohol. You couldn't really feel that. He didn't want to believe it.
"I won't move and I won't snore. I'll try."
Your insistence would drive him completely mad.
"If that witch Nami finds out..."
"I'll say it was my idea."
He didn't care about listening to you and giving in to your request. He didn't care about Nami's screams the next day, telling him never to enter the women's room again and that he owed her an exorbitant amount of berries for invading her privacy and corrupting her beautiful friend. He didn't care to tell her she would go to hell. How could he care when he woke up with you in his arms, your head resting on his chest and your hair tickling his nose? And that smile you gave him when you opened your eyes, resting your chin on his chest and whispering "good morning".
He no longer knew what to do with his heart.
He had to do something about it soon, before he exploded with pent-up jealousy when he saw you interacting with the cook. Or before he suddenly blushed when you beat him in training and smiled triumphantly, teasing him with your words.
It took him two months to do it. Zoro was not a man capable of confessing his feelings unless he was backed into a corner. That's why, at times like this, alcohol became his true best friend.
It all started with a foolish move.
The atmosphere was charged with joy, and you didn't know why you were still surprised by what your captain could do. He had liberated Wano. He had made an entire country want to live again, given them hope, given them food. You drank while sitting on a hill, not too far from the celebration, but not too close either. You smiled, tapping your foot lightly to the rhythm of the music, watching the people laugh gratefully. From above, you could see most of the place and where most of the crew was. But you couldn't find Zoro.
He had awakened from his injuries, and you hadn't had time to see him, running back and forth with Otama, who wanted to show you the beautiful kimonos for the women in Wano.
You jumped when something heavy fell beside you. You looked up, stopping drinking, to find Zoro in a beautiful green yukata sitting next to you. His knee was gently caressing yours. He decided not to look at you as he poured sake into a cup.
"How are your wounds?" You both asked at the same time.
You looked at each other for a second before you laughed softly and he smiled, looking away.
The passing of the hours and the constant drinking, while he listened to everything you had to say, how you had improved your katana attacks, how you had gotten a scar across your stomach, and everything you had heard about Zoro fighting King, came to an abrupt end when you gave in.
Your head rested on his shoulder and you looked at him enchanted.
The way you looked at him left him speechless, breathless, and he could only look away countless times so you wouldn't see him blush.
No one knew how it happened, but that night, slipping through the crowd, walking holding hands between paper lanterns and all kinds of scents of freshly prepared food, you ended up in a secluded cabin. The touch of his rough hands against your skin, the feeling of his fingers tracing every inch of your chest as he slowly moved down without taking his eyes off you was something you could never forget.
Your first time didn't end there. It wasn't an experience Zoro was willing to let go of. He wasn't willing to let you go.
So he blamed it on the alcohol every night you made love, every time he kissed you softly or buried his face in your neck, panting so softly that no one but you could hear. Something deep in your heart told you that this wasn't normal. That if you tried, confessing could work out.
But you weren't ready to confess something of such magnitude. You were afraid when you received the news from Chopper. The youngest member of the crew was bad at keeping secrets, you had to bribe him with sweets and lots of cotton candy so he wouldn't reveal why he called you to his office every monday. You didn't count on the doctor not being able to hide anything from Robin.
The archaeologist was the first to find out, telling Nami without hesitation, thinking you would need all the help you could get. It was a secret that included all three of you, but you weren't aware of it.
Zoro didn't understand your strange behaviour. Your denials when alcohol went to his head, your refusal of his invitations to drink, your constant escapes to Chopper's office, or how lately you told Sanji that you didn't like his food. You always flattered him and told him he was the best. A score of ten. If he didn't understand, Luffy understood even less.
The girls cornered you on a monday, both of them being in the doctor's office before you. You got nervous. You stuttered and tears welled up in your eyes, but Nami calmed you down. They both held your hands while you confessed. Your nighttime adventures with Zoro, how and when it started, your growing feelings, your failure to confess, and your refusal to talk about the pregnancy.
Chopper spun in his chair.
"But Y/N, Zoro will soon notice. Human females give off a different scent when they are pregnant."
Robin chuckled, stroking the fur on his head. Nami sat down next to you on the examination table, smiling.
"He won't notice until someone tells him. Zoro is an idiot," said the navigator.
"You should confess. He doesn't seem like the type of man who can't handle his actions." Robin's voice made you relax your shoulders.
"Oh, and you should tell him soon. If you keep telling Sanji that you don't like his food, he won't stop crying."
"Today I saw him banging his head against the counter when you rejected his breakfast!" Chopper shouted.
"See?" Nami let out a soft laugh, placing her hand on your belly.
"Zoro is going to be a dad," whispered Chopper, pausing to think for a second. The idea of the swordsman who protected him so much becoming a father was sweet in his mind. "Do you think it will be a girl or a boy?"
"I hope it's a girl. The four of us can go shopping together." The navigator was excited, caressing your belly affectionately.
"Something tells me that won't be the case," Robin refuted, crossing her legs.
"By the way, Y/N, how long has it been since you've eaten something without feeling nauseous?" Chopper inquired.
"Since we found out, I think. I don't like the smell of fish. Three weeks?"
"I'll tell Sanji to prepare a diet until you can talk to Zoro. I won't confess anything, this is Chopper's mission, the best uncle ever."
The confidence with which he got out of his chair and stuck to the wall, taking short steps towards the kitchen as if he were a spy, made the girls smile fondly.
Contrary to the advice you had received from your two friends, you believed you could keep it hidden for another week. You wanted to prepare yourself mentally before giving Zoro such big news. News that would change his entire path. His whole life.
And yours. What would you do in the future, when you had the baby in your arms? You couldn't carry a newborn and two katanas at the same time. You didn't want to give up your dream. But neither did you want to give up that little creation of love you had for the swordsman. Because it was okay if he didn't love you or if you didn't mean anything to him, at least you felt it.
"Doctor Chopper, do you smell that sweet scent in the air? It's as if someone is pregnant," Jinbe murmured when they were all on deck.
"Pregnant? I don't smell anything. Maybe your nose is wrong, Jinbe!"
You shifted nervously on the grass. You didn't know that the fishmen could know about those things too. A peculiar silence accompanied them for a few seconds.
"Pregnancy? Among us? Nami, are you pregnant?" Luffy asked.
The navigator hit him on the head.
Sanji frowned as he lit a cigarette. Recent events flooded his mind. Jinbe's comment. Chopper's nervousness and quick denial. Your sudden dislike of his cooking. The way you ignored Zoro. He paused, the cigarette suspended midway and his lips parted.
Zoro? It couldn't be.
That stupid marimo?
He looked at you again, but you were more attentive to the sea. Then he looked at Zoro. He looked at you intently and seemed frustrated that you weren't looking at him.
"It can't be Robin," Usopp said, laughing. "Is it you, Y/N?"
You frowned without looking at him.
"How could it be Y/N!? Although I did see her in Wano running away with Zoro, shishishi."
Luffy's words confirmed Sanji's suspicions. Robin and Nami said nothing about it, but others such as Usopp, Franky, and Brook congratulated Zoro, who frowned more and more. Jinbe understood that it was not a matter for others to concern themselves with, but with all the commotion, he did not know how to divert attention.
"I made a new chocolate dessert, Luffy, don't you want to try it?" Sanji asked, distracting everyone with just that one sentence.
The cook glanced at Zoro before leading everyone to the kitchen, leaving you alone with the swordsman. You would thank him later for covering for you, but now it was on everyone's minds. The next member of the Straw Hat Pirates could be in your belly. They would have a baby on board. No one said anything as they ate their desserts, pretending they didn't want to peek through the window to eavesdrop on the pending conversation between Zoro and you.
The green haired man sat down carefully beside you. His katanas rested in his lap. His expression was impossible to read. His thoughts were beyond your comprehension.
"Y/N?"
You played with the silver bells on your katanas, indecision written all over your face as the idea of confessing your feelings and the reality of confessing your pregnancy clashed with each other, almost fighting over which was more important. But you knew the answer. You knew what you had to do. You knew the reason why you should live in the future.
"I'm pregnant." Your voice came out almost as a whisper, not daring to look at him.
Zoro remained silent for a few minutes, just listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the ship and the jingle of those bells. He liked them. He liked to hear them every time they fought in training or against an enemy. With them, he could find your location on the battlefield. With them, he knew when to protect you and when not to.
They were a grounding force for you. He didn't know the meaning behind them, but he always saw you fiddling with them when you were indecisive or nervous.
Just like now.
"I will train him to be a good swordsman."
You blinked a couple of times until his words registered in your mind. You frowned and turned your head to look at him, your lips parted slightly.
"What?"
The green haired man shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest as he closed his eyes, ready to sleep. You noticed a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
He was calm. As if that news didn't change everything in both their lives. As if it weren't a problem. Not for him.
"Don't ever leave me again."
You raised an eyebrow.
Something in his expression changed and the tips of his ears flushed. His heart felt trapped by the weight of his words. He wanted to keep it inside a chest that you couldn't open yet, but it stumbled and cracked, becoming impossible to close. He didn't mean to sound like that. As if he missed you. As if those weeks without your attention had not been the greatest loss of his soul.
"I mean... You're pregnant now. I don't want anything to happen to the baby."
You nodded, turning your gaze back to your katanas.
Both of you were too stubborn to confess.
"Aren't you angry that I hid it from you?"
"No."
"Not even a little?"
"No."
"Really, not even a little bit?"
"Shut up and let me sleep, woman."
The confirmation of your pregnancy reached the crew the next morning. Luffy smiled broadly, patting your shoulder hard and saying he already knew before anyone else did. Nami pulled on his red shirt, scolding him for hitting you. Robin and Chopper smiled, both happy that you could finally be free. Franky shouted that he would make toys and a crib for the new crew member. Brook composed lullabies, one for a girl and one for a boy. Jinbe apologised to you for bringing up the subject in front of everyone without meaning to, grateful for your quick forgiveness. Usopp congratulated you both, arguing with Luffy over who would be the best uncle.
"Stupid marimo, a baby and a beautiful woman," Sanji whined, placing a cup of tea in front of you. "Sweet Y/N, why couldn't it be me? He doesn't bathe... Is that your type? Is that how I should be?"
"Get lost, you shitty cook."
"I hope you take good care of them," warned Sanji. Zoro's eyebrow twitched and he drew his katana.
Carrying your pregnancy with them was a blessing.
The months passed and your belly grew larger. Sanji's meals no longer made you feel sick. He had made sure you were eating a healthy diet and that all your meals were nutritious enough to give you strength. Zoro didn't say so, but he was grateful to the blond.
At some point, your usual clothes no longer fit, but you didn't have time to feel bad about it, because Nami and Robin were there to take you shopping and always find the prettiest things in the shop for you. Zoro would take a minute to just stare at you while you got ready in front of the mirror. You could hear him whisper that you were beautiful, and then he would take you for a walk around the islands, walking with one hand on his katanas and the other on your waist. Slowly, not wanting to rush you.
Brook sang you different songs every day with possible names for the baby. Jinbe entertained you with stories and adventures from his youth. Usopp and Franky showed you the toys they created, most of them for men. Luffy kept asking if he could be the favorite uncle, unaware that Zoro had already chosen him as such.
And Chopper... Chopper was worried.
Taking care of you had made him happy at first. Everything seemed to be going well. Sanji's meals kept you healthy. Then he didn't know what started to go wrong in the seventh month. He had to respect your wish to keep it a secret so as not to alarm anyone, but your constant headaches and fatigue made him stay closer to you than he should have.
Then he noticed your high blood pressure. And the grimaces you made when touching your belly. You weren't having contractions, but you whispered to him that it hurt and that surely, surely, it would pass quickly. He never knew that you were short of breath, that you felt your throat closing up and forced yourself to close your eyes and wait to stabilise.
On the day after your last check-up, you squeezed Zoro's arm tightly. He looked at you, alarmed, not knowing what was happening. He shouted for help and everyone came running. Chopper noticed your contractions and broke out in a sweat. Premature labour was not ideal. With the swordsman's help, they took you to the infirmary and the little blue nosed one tried to stop the contractions.
The serum was cold. Your gaze was lost, staring at the light on the ceiling, not fully recognising that Zoro was holding your hand. The green haired man squeezed it between his own when he felt you trembling. It was slight, but it was there. And your breathing. Your breathing was rapid. He didn't understand what was happening. He whispered that everything would be fine, that you should relax.
That Chopper would know what to do.
That you were safe.
The crew's doctor entered the infirmary again, climbing onto a bench to examine you. He frowned. Only Zoro noticed.
"Chopper?" His voice sounded strangled. He didn't like that expression.
"The baby's heart beat is slowing down." The swordsman didn't understand his words. But Robin and Nami standing in the doorway did. "Get ready for the childbirth! Y/N, everything will be fine, please... You can do this."
The speed with which things happened left deep wounds in the crew. Those listening from outside could only wait. Sanji paced back and forth smoking, Usopp bit his nails, Luffy stood in surprising silence leaning against the wall, Franky, Brook, and Jinbe silently prayed that everything would turn out all right.
Nami stroked your hair, whispering words of encouragement in your ear as you pushed. Zoro squeezed your hand anxiously. Robin helped Chopper.
When a baby's cry echoed through the ship, everyone breathed again. The girls smiled tenderly. It was a boy.
Everyone crowded around the door to see the newborn, distracting them a little from you. The only one who paid you any attention was Zoro, who kissed your hand tenderly and cried silently at the miracle. His son. And the woman he loved. He kissed your head and smiled sweetly at you.
But you were lost.
You tried to breathe, but your chest felt heavy. Zoro stood up, squeezing your hand.
"Y/N." His voice caught Robin's attention. The baby in Chopper's arms was placed in Nami's arms.
"Y/N?" Chopper said, rushing over.
"I can't..." That was the only word that escaped your lips.
You gasped for air that never reached you. You couldn't hear anything. You looked lost at Zoro. He squeezed your hand and shouted. Luffy shouted. Brook, Nami, Franky, and Usopp cried desperately. Jinbe's heart beat faster than it had in a long time.
The despair that afternoon in the infirmary tormented them from time to time.
Chopper fell to his knees on the floor, sobbing heavily.
He hadn't been able to do anything. He hadn't been able to save you. Did his promise to cure all the diseases in the world mean anything if he hadn't been able to save his friend?
The diagnosis he gave devastated everyone.
Amniotic fluid embolism and cardiorespiratory collapse.
You had passed away holding Zoro's hand, amid the pleas of all your friends and the cries of your newborn baby, disturbed by the commotion. Although Chopper did everything he could, from chest compressions to medication, your heart did not respond.
Zoro's tears of happiness soon turned to tears of sadness. The entire crew was devastated.
The little blue nosed one apologised over and over again, crying, while Robin hugged him and cried silently.
As the days passed, nothing improved. The atmosphere was heavy. Zoro barely ate. Sanji forced him to eat and sat silently beside him, smoking and staring into the distance.
The passing months made the swordsman nervous.
He had a premature son. A healthy son who had been cared for by Chopper, who even fed him for him.
It tormented him that you never got to meet him. To see how his hair was also green. But when he laughed so happily, holding his finger, it made him forget all his pain.
Everyone in the crew found it difficult to live with the fact that you were no longer there. It was Robin who cheered them up in the second month of the child's life, saying that you were still there through the little one.
Soon the women set out to teach Zoro everything.
Nami deducted nappies, talcum powder, wet wipes and everything else the baby needed from his treasure share. Zoro looked at her irritably. But it was valid. But she could be good with a single father. Robin taught him how to change nappies and bathe him. Unfortunately for him, he had to let Sanji help him.
"Stupid marimo! You can't feed him that! Do you think he's a beast like you?" shouted the blond man irritatedly.
The green haired man grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. The fight was stopped by the navigator, who hit them both. The swordsman had to accept that there was no one better to feed someone than Sanji. He made apple and banana puree, and Zoro ate it from time to time as well.
Jinbe always laughed at how similar Zoro and his son were. Usopp would shout every time he saw him crawling towards the deck railing, on the verge of falling, only to turn around and find his father sleeping peacefully under a tangerine tree. Relaxed, with his hands behind his head as if his son wasn't about to fall overboard.
The question that drove Zoro crazy was asked by Brook.
"Yohoho, I can't sing to this little one if he doesn't have a name yet, Zoro-san."
The swordsman drank his sake, squinting his eye.
"This idiot probably doesn't have anything yet. He'll reach the age of five without a name," scowled Nami.
Luffy held out a piece of meat to the green haired baby. When the little one tried to take it, Luffy quickly snatched it back and put it in his mouth.
"He should be named after me, so he'll be an incredible warrior of the sea," Usopp suggested, puffing out his chest and smiling.
"He'll be a swordsman." That was all Zoro said.
"Usopp... Usopp... Sweet Usopp..." Brook sang to the baby, who was eating his apple puree with his hands, not understanding the skeleton.
"Haku would suit him well," Robin commented.
Zoro considered it for a second. Haku. It sounded good. Would you have liked it too? He took another sip of his sake, silently agreeing.
Haku was growing quickly. And every day he looked more like Zoro. His green hair was short, just like his, and in his first year he already knew how to take a few steps before falling down. He never cried, which made the navigator and the archaeologist laugh quietly, noticing how similar father and son were.
The men pretended not to notice, closing their eyes every night, but they could hear it. At bedtime, the baby cried, unwilling to leave the warm chest of his father, who carried him all day. The only thing that relaxed him in his cot until he fell asleep was a sound.
A jingle.
The jingle of the silver bells on your katanas.
Haku giggled, making everyone smile, stretching out his tiny hands to touch the bells. Unknowingly claiming his mother's katanas as his own.
It was on his birthdays that Zoro missed you the most. Seeing him grow up, seeing him learn to talk, even if it was just silly words, seeing him play with everyone calmed his soul. But even with all that, he couldn't help but imagine you among them, carrying his son in your arms, wearing something pretty and singing happy birthday with a huge smile.
He had seen you interact with other children. He had seen you bandage their scraped knees after they fell while playing. You were sweet. You were caring. And he was sure you would have been a good mother.
All the unfulfilled dreams you had left behind hurt him. Wanting to defeat Shanks, wanting to visit thousands of places with him, wanting to raise the baby you had carried with so much love for months.
It hurt him that he had never confessed his love for you. It hurt him to hear from Nami that you did love him, but that you were just as stubborn as he was.
Life was uncertain. Destiny was uncertain.
Haku was three years old when he first picked up a wooden katana. He wielded it clumsily, it being enormous for his tiny hands.
"You're silly!" Luffy shouted from the lion's head, laughing at the sight of the child.
"Shut up!"
And Haku was rude to his father's captain. Luffy's playfulness amused everyone. Nami said it was like having two children on board.
"You have to be tall to wield one of those." The rubber boy stuck his tongue out at him.
"I'll be tall like dad!"
The green haired boy's lower lip trembled, frustrated at not being able to carry the katanas. Zoro lifted him up in his arms, placing him on his shoulder.
"Now you're taller than everyone else."
His giggle warmed the crew's hearts.
"I'll teach you how to use the katanas when you're five," he promised.
"I won't let a child carry katanas!" Nami shouted.
"He's my son!" Zoro protested.
"And Y/N's son," she replied.
"She would teach him too. And she wouldn't let him wear all those silly clothes you buy him. He should wear a haramaki like me."
"Dad looks silly in that," Haku muttered.
Sanji burst out laughing, making Zoro blush with embarrassment and anger.
Every day was like that. Jinbe taught him how to swim and many tricks with water, promising that one day he would show him the underwater world. Brook sang to him non-stop, only getting nods from the boy. Sanji made him try different desserts, wanting to find his favourite, but he could never guess. Haku was impossible with him. The cook thought that Zoro was teaching him to be that way.
Nami and Robin took him shopping, dressing him according to their tastes. They also made him bathe every day. But it seemed that in a few years he would be like his father, showering once a week.
Usopp showed him different gadgets that the boy couldn't understand how they worked, but he still thought they were great. Franky took him to his factory twice a week, letting him choose designs for new additions to the Sunny.
Chopper healed his wounds whenever he got hurt fighting his father with just a wooden katana. The boy flew into the wall more than anyone would have liked. And he and Luffy lived by fighting, as if the captain were a child.
Haku was five years old when everyone was sitting on the deck, enjoying the warm day.
A tinkling sound caught everyone's attention. A tinkling sound they hadn't heard in five years. Soft, slow with each step. A marked rhythm they only heard when...
All eyes turned to the little boy in front of them.
Your katanas hung from his hips. They were still too big for him. But they were his first real katanas. And they were yours. The girls pressed their lips together, holding back their tears. They thought they would never see them again. Zoro had kept them after your death, refusing to leave them on your grave, because he said they would find their new owner in a few years.
And those years had now passed.
Haku smiled excitedly. He looked almost mischievously at his father.
"Dad, I want a duel."
Some had déjà vu. Franky sobbed loudly, causing Haku to roll his eyes. He didn't understand what was wrong with everyone. Luffy bit into his meat, smiling broadly.
"That sounds fun!"
Robin rested her cheek on her hand, smiling tenderly.
"Haku, we're almost at a new island, that'll be impossible."
"I'll beat him! It'll be quick," insisted the boy, stamping his feet on the grass. His movement made the bells jingle.
Zoro smiled. He smiled broadly for the first time in a very long time. You were still there with them. You were still there in his son. In the end, he had been right. You were a woman who left a trace of your existence in every little thing. In every little detail.
The swordsman wielded his wado ichimonji.
"What is your motivation, kid?"
TRAFALGAR LAW
He still believed in miracles.
Being touched by them was reason enough. The loss of hope for his own future, his uselessness weighing heavily on his feelings, his inadequacy tormenting his dreams, and his resignation to an early death had marked a point in his life that had found redemption thanks to one person.
Cora-san had taught him to fight, to have faith, to trust in tomorrow no matter how difficult the present might be.
To dwell on his past or discuss it with others was not something he enjoyed. He carried it in his soul as something precious, cherishing the people who remained there as something to be treasured.
And you entered into them.
The toothless smile was something that came to mind from time to time, making him laugh in the solitude of his office.
The two of you were just kids attending school in Flevance. Restless as you were, one day you couldn't stop talking about your loose tooth. You touched it and touched it, loosening it more. You showed it to your classmates with a huge smile, saying you wanted it to fall out so you could see the new one, but that it was taking too long.
You decided to do the silliest thing in the world. Law watched everything from his seat, frowning slightly. Somehow you had managed to get some thread, and one of your friends carefully tied it to your tooth. The other end of the thread was tied to the classroom door handle.
Your scream echoed in everyone's ears when your friend pulled the door shut and your tooth was ripped out.
You were a silly girl. That's what Law thought of you as he looked inside your mouth, holding back his urge to scold you. You refused to go to the infirmary, and he knew a little about medicine thanks to his father. Treating his first patient couldn't be that complicated. Luckily, the tooth had come out clean, but the bleeding had stained your white shirt, and it was slowly stopping after he put some gauze on it.
The bad thing about the situation was that before he knew it, it had become an everyday occurrence.
You lived across the street from his house. Clinging to him after being healed by those tiny miraculous hands didn't seem strange to you, it was natural.
It was natural how you got used to knocking on his door every morning, waiting for him to go to school with him. Law suspected that you had changed your sleep schedule. He went to class early. And you arrived just in time. But now you smiled and said good morning, swaying your body from side to side as you tightened the straps of your pink backpack, eager to go together.
It was natural for you to leave your usual place in the classroom and sit next to him, just watching him study.
It was natural for you to become his friend. To enter his house, to insist on going to the fairs with his younger sister, the three of you holding hands, to catch frogs because you knew he liked to study them, to have him heal your scrapes every time you played and he would laugh quietly because you were crying.
That girl who called herself his best friend and promised to protect him from everyone disappeared one day.
There was no trace of you when tragedy struck Flevance. The screams echoing in his ears, the desperation in every cry and plea made him nervous. He had seen his parents die. He had been useless in saving his younger sister. He had witnessed the death of all his classmates. All because of that incurable disease. All because the world government did not want to help them. All because they believed it was contagious. That they were the plague.
He was devastated. He had lost everyone he loved. And he couldn't find you anywhere.
Hiding among the dead bodies until everything calmed down gave him time to look for you. Not finding you among them made him anxious.
It was a year later, as he was being carried on Cora-san's back, walking under the cherry trees after leaving another hospital, that Law told him about you. The man with the splendid make-up smiled broadly at him.
"Do you see the good in that, Law? She's alive out there. She's alive! So you must live to find her."
Law lived for many years believing those words. If Cora-san was right, and he always was, then a miracle would happen and you would come back into his life. Someone from his past, from his childhood in Flevance, was out there in the big wide world, waiting for him. He wanted to find you and hold on to the memories of his parents and little sister through you. To the memories of his friendship with you. To the happy memories.
And yet, he never found you.
His secret search caught the attention of Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo, the friends he had recently made. They believed you were his girlfriend and that he didn't want to introduce you, only to receive a threat from Law if they continued talking nonsense.
He had asked everyone he could. Normal people, farmers, and merchants didn't know you. Not even if they saw a half-burnt photo of you next to Law. A girl with that appearance never passed through the islands.
And when he began his pirate life, entering the Grand Line, he had his first encounters with the underworld. That dirty network he knew all too well since childhood now served him well. Some informant should get information about you, a clue that would show him your whereabouts.
Even if it's just a photo of how you are now.
Law was looking for a miracle that would never come.
You were a helpless child, screaming and crying amid the fire and dead bodies when a marine found you. You wiped away your tears, sobbing for help, feeling safe when you saw that uniform. The marines protected the weakest from the wicked. That's what they said at school. And that's what Law said when he talked to you about Sora.
You believed you could trust him, following him by the hand to a "safer" place.
Words that should never have been used to describe a minor. That marine held a den den mushi in his hand, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you trembled on the "rescue ship".
It took you a few days to realise that something was wrong. You couldn't be the only survivor from Flevance. There should be more ships. There should be doctors trying to heal everyone. You were lucky enough not to contract the disease. Law's father had said he should keep an eye on you for a few more months in case you developed antibodies that could save lives. You could help them. You could talk to that marine who saved you. You could talk to the doctors yourself if necessary.
But it would never work, because the place you were in didn't look anything like a marine barracks.
The high walls made you dizzy. The white marble everywhere blinded you, and that skylight didn't help, with the sun beating down on your face with its intense rays. The marine gently pushed you forward, towards a golden throne occupied by a man who must have been about fifty years old.
You squeezed your eyes shut tightly and opened them again, trying to get used to the brightly lit room.
The man in front of you had little hair, which he concealed with an enormous crown. He stroked and stretched the moustache on his face between his fingers as he scrutinised your body with his gaze. Every inch was analysed for several minutes.
"She is perfect. When she has her first period, I will make her mine." You heard the man, the king, say.
The tension in your muscles was an immediate response.
The passing of the years had not healed the wound of that memory. It had not made you forget.
You had been sold by someone in the marine as if you were nothing more than an object. As if you were nothing more than your body and a beautiful face. You had been stripped naked by that man who took you away, with the eyes of the king of that country in North Blue upon you. He ignored the trembling of your body, your pleas for him not to do it, your lower lip quivering and the tears running down your cheeks. You had seen the king's erection at the sight before him. You had felt the marine captain's hands on your undeveloped breasts as he explained to the king how you would develop.
You remembered your first attempt to escape. The blow you dealt the marine captain with your elbow, running towards the enormous doors. All resulting in your hands being handcuffed and your imminent confinement in a room adjacent to the king's.
If you could make one wish in your life...
If only you could...
No matter how much you imagined it, the door connecting the two rooms from the inside would never disappear.
The trauma that began when you were ten and lasted until you were thirteen would never go away. If you closed your eyes, you could still hear that door slowly opening. The shuffling footsteps on the wooden floor making their way towards your bed, the king's ragged breathing and his presence standing next to your face.
If you closed your eyes, you relived the sensation of his seed staining your face, leaving you a nervous, sobbing wreck in that dark room when the door closed again.
You had tried everything in your power to escape. You jumped out of your window on the second floor, stifling your screams when you landed badly and broke your ankle. You forced yourself to heal yourself through tears, a botched job on the bathroom floor. You could never perform surgery on yourself, and you would never let anyone see you like that. If you weren't perfect, they would kill you. And yet, despite everything, you wanted to live. Something told you that you had to. And that something was a white hat with black spots that came back to your mind whenever you had to treat yourself in solitude.
You limped whenever you were alone. You held back your grimaces when you were in front of the king or when you passed by the servants or guards, walking as best you could.
You dug a hole in the garden bushes, which was always covered up by the gardeners. You dissolved sleeping pills in his wine when no one else was looking, but the guards surrounded the garden and the entrances every night. The dream of escape grew more distant with each passing day.
Sometimes you lamented. You believed your fate was cursed. That not even a miracle could save you from this hell.
Your first period came when you were fourteen. You were late for breakfast, and one of the maids was sent to get you ready. Everyone was waiting expectantly. You were entering three crucial years.
And when the king saw your bloodstained sheets, he was excited.
If you talked to someone about your nightmares, you wouldn't know whether to talk about the ones that tortured you in your dreams or the ones that tortured you in all your senses.
At some point, you stopped crying.
You could only wait in your bed, staring at the ceiling with a blank expression. Always naked. You would be punished if you made him wait or if you refused. You felt his hands on your body, every inch of it. His lips in places he shouldn't touch. His fingers inside an area that should be off-limits.
You could only wait in your bed with your eyes closed throughout the encounter, praying for it to end soon.
And when he did, leaving your room muttering curses at you because you no longer satisfied him as before, because you were already too "used", you would run to the bathroom to get into the bath. An hour. Two hours. Until the water cooled down and the sensation of his release inside you faded away.
You were eighteen when the visits to use your body became less frequent. The king had found a new girl. A twelve year old who shared your fate.
You couldn't say you were grateful. You couldn't say you felt at peace now that it wasn't your turn. Not when you hugged that little girl after finding her crying every night in the garden.
But even though your body was no longer his favourite, he found another use for it.
He wanted riches.
He craved more power.
He wished to have the favour of the celestial dragons.
This way, your body became the ideal object for experimentation in your twenties.
One of the five elders requested a report once a month. Your body's responses to the injections. The reaction to the first stimuli. Any anomalies observed. All in exchange for being affiliated with the world government.
Your first symptoms never appeared. The king took it as a good sign. Whatever they were asking him to inject you with, it was making you look more beautiful than ever. It was almost as if you were once again that girl he once had in front of him, radiant and innocent. His desire for you returned and with it, the visits every night.
Three years later, between injections and occasional nightly visits (because you were too old for his taste), the first symptom appeared. But it wasn't from the disease that one of the five elders was developing in his laboratory in Mary Geoise. It was a symptom of pregnancy. Your period hadn't come that month, and the nausea from the medication was unbearable.
When the confirmation of your two-week pregnancy reached your ears, you cried inconsolably in your room.
What else could happen to you? What else did life want from you? What else did they want to take away from you? Your body, your freedom, your happiness, everything had been stolen from you.
You were not allowed to have an abortion. Surveillance was extreme. The maids accompanied you to the bathroom, counting the minutes you spent inside, forcing you to keep the door open. Your meals were served especially by the chef in front of you. Four guards followed you to the garden if you wanted a single moment of peace.
But it never crossed the king's mind that what he should control most were those injections.
The black eruptions that appeared on your skin overnight disturbed the entire personnel. Suddenly, no one wanted to touch you. No one was interested in the six-month pregnant woman.
They shouted that it was contagious. That you shouldn't come near. The king spat at you, keeping his distance, claiming that both you and the baby were sick.
San Saturn's exact words upon receiving the report were "discard her, she's no longer of use."
Sometimes you lamented. You believed your fate was cursed. That not even a miracle could save you from this hell.
But the miracle was within you. In that disease. In your womb.
The miracle was happening right before your eyes when they threw you out onto the street. At twenty three years old, with a huge belly, an incurable disease and a lame foot, you allowed yourself to take a deep breath.
You walked carefully, one hand caressing your belly and the other holding a bag with some stolen berries and a few dresses. The fresh air filled your nostrils as you admired the landscape far from the palace that had tormented you for so many years.
Seeing the villagers looking at you with uncertainty because of the marks on your skin didn't hurt you as much as you thought it would. You didn't know the name of your illness or how much longer your body could endure it. But if this was the price you had to pay for your freedom, to free yourself from all your traumas, then you would take it.
In your seventh month of pregnancy, you had arrived at a new island in the North Blue. Sailing had become your escape from your memories. You believed that the further away you got, the more peace you would find within yourself. You didn't stay long on any island, just two or three days, and then you gave yourself over to the sea, excited about tomorrow.
You fought against the thoughts that sought to undermine your morale. So close to giving birth, you couldn't help thinking that the baby you carried in your womb was the fruit of a man you hated deeply. But it wasn't the child's fault for the father it had been given. It wasn't its fault for having a sick mother, from whom it would inherit an incurable disease.
The time you had left was beyond your control. You had surrendered yourself to death. It could take you whenever it wanted.
But if you could make one wish… It would be for your baby to be born. And for you to find someone who could take care of the child before you had to abandon it.
You walked through the winter village, hiding your body under a cape. The black spots spreading across your arms and legs required attention more than once. After five days, they grew in size, creating blisters that, if they burst, bled. Tolerating the burning sensation and seeing how the strange disease made your open wounds look dead upset you.
You entered a coffee shop ready to order some tea. You sat down at a table to wait, observing the cosy interior. On one of the walls there were lots of bounty posters. The woman who appeared to be the owner of the shop came in with a newspaper in her hand. She stretched out her other hand to pin a new poster on the wall.
"Trafalgar Law? Who is this kid?" murmured a man at the table next to you. "Now everyone thinks they can be pirates."
You opened your eyes in confusion. You groaned at the pain of turning your head so quickly, but you couldn't help standing up, running towards the wall with one hand on your belly.
Your eyes stung.
"Hey, Law, stop studying already, you promised we'd play after school!"
"I study after school. You're irresponsible."
"I'm not!"
"If you deny it, it's even more true."
The man on the bounty poster was not the kid you had in your mind, in your sweet memories. His features had become refined. There were dark circles under his eyes. He had two gold earrings in each ear. A well-groomed beard. And that hat. That white hat with black spots for which he had hit you on the head more than once for taking it from him.
Law was alive.
Law was an adult.
Law was a pirate.
You left your tea behind, stole the bounty poster from the wall, and hurried to the dock.
If Law was a pirate, what were his goals? Did he want the famous One Piece? How did he end up becoming a pirate? Would he still remember you? You laughed as you looked at his photo. Your friend was alive! Despite running, with a lame foot and pregnant, you were going very slowly. You could see a woman with long, brown, curly hair loading barrels and bags onto a small ship. It looked like she would be setting sail soon, so you quickened your pace.
Her face filled with surprise when she saw a girl clutching the edge of her ship, breathing heavily.
You held your hand out in front of her, silently asking for a minute.
"Please, tell me where you're going."
"What the hell?"
"I just want to know where you're going."
The brown-haired woman clicked her tongue as she hoisted another barrel onto her ship.
"Get lost. I'm not taking anyone with me."
"Please..."
She looked at you for a second and then ignored you again.
"I want to go to Grand Line!" you shouted, drawing the attention of more than one person on the dock.
"To Grand Line? Have you lost your mind? No one survives there. And you least of all," she muttered the last part, looking down at your belly.
Your cape had opened, revealing your seven-month pregnancy. You covered yourself again, muttering under your breath.
"I want to find someone," you insisted.
"So do I. All the pirates I can find, to get the bounty on their heads," growled the woman, hoisting a fifth barrel onto her ship.
"It will only be for a while. I won't stay long. Just until the first island in Grand Line."
"I'm not taking a pregnant woman with me. What's wrong with you? Just look at yourself! If you set foot on an island there, that baby will come out of your belly with a pop! As if it had been waiting too long to come out."
You pressed your lips together, amused.
"Just to the first island, and then I'll leave you alone to continue on your way."
The woman adjusted her orange hat, letting out a huge sigh.
"Fine. But if you're willing to go to such a dangerous place to look for that baby's father, I swear..."
"He's a childhood friend. He's not the father." You quickly corrected her.
She nodded and then reached out her hand to you, helping you up.
"My name is Ikkaku, by the way."
"I am Y/N."
Sailing with Ikkaku was like a caress to your wounded soul.
She didn’t turn away when you showed her what the disease was doing to your body. Her compassionate eyes were soothed by her delicate touch as she tended to your attempts at healing. She washed each wound with warm water, disinfected it with alcohol, and sterilised a knife with fire to remove the dead skin. She caught your attention with all the ointments she kept in a box, from medicinal mud and herbal oils to antibiotics.
Her knowledge of medicine was more advanced than yours.
She listened to your story during your eighth month, crying her eyes out trying to hug you, but you kept laughing and then letting yourself be. Opening up to her, vocalising your traumas, letting go of everything you had held back for years in broken sobs, held in warm arms, was unknowingly what you needed most.
From time to time, you could see the frustration in her furrowed brow, her foot moving anxiously as she drew lines in a notebook. She would look at you for long minutes and draw you without saying anything about it. If you asked, she would only say that it was scientific research.
She couldn't prevent the spread or stop the advance. She could only control the infections, prevent you from having fever and pain, change your bandages daily, and every few hours let the wounds heal in the open air. But healing often did not occur. This disease, which she had never seen before, behaved strangely. Despite all her efforts, Ikkaku noticed a new level of depth in the wounds every day.
As if a worm were eating your skin down to the bone.
"So? Who are you looking for?" she asked one day, sitting down next to you on the deck floor.
She had forced you to rest, even though you hated staying still in one place. She took a bite of a peach and gave one to you. You accepted it with a smile.
"His name is Trafalgar Law."
Ikkaku looked at you, swallowing her peach with force.
"You're joking. That pirate from this sea who got a huge reward?" You nodded, biting into your fruit. "That's the friend you're risking your life for!?"
"He's a good guy."
"He's a pirate. No pirate is good," she hissed in frustration.
"Ikkaku, I think you noticed it too." She frowned. "I don't have much time left."
"Don't say that. I'll find a way..."
You interrupted her.
"With luck, I'll be able to live through the first few months of my baby's life. But when I'm gone, I want Law to have it."
"A pirate raising a baby in Grand Line? It's dangerous. Y/N, reconsider. I can stay on the first island and raise it myself, with you. Don't take any more risks."
You shook your head. Ikkaku had a goal. A dream. You couldn't ask her to give that up to look after a baby for you when you were dead. Asking Law was just as bad. You'd be getting in his way, imposing something that had nothing to do with him. But he was the only one you could leave it with without feeling guilty about abandoning it.
"Law will understand."
"A baby shouldn't live at sea. A sick woman shouldn't be making this journey... And you can't make him shoulder such a responsibility. It's selfish. It's..." She looked down. "I'm sorry."
You patted her shoulder.
"I understand what you're getting at, but he's the only person from Flevance who's still alive." You rested your head against the railing. "He's my best friend. If he raises this baby, I can leave this world in peace. It doesn't matter if it's at sea."
Ikkaku bit her lip, unsure.
"We have to hurry, then."
If someone had told Ikkaku in the past that her entry into the Grand Line would lose all meaning, that her life as a bounty hunter would be left behind and she would instead be helping a pregnant woman give birth just as they crossed the reverse mountain, she would surely have laughed.
But that day, she didn't laugh at all. Her hand was on the rudder as she watched you lying next to her, breathing deeply through the contractions. The continuous movement of the ship made you dizzy, and she could see how the black spots were ravaging your belly. At some point during the descent, as you were about to reach Twin Cape, Ikkaku let go of the rudder, praying that everything would turn out all right as she crouched down beside you.
She had been referring to your illness as living putrefaction for two months without you knowing. Your arms and legs were about to show bone in different areas, so she covered them with bandages so you wouldn't see. You could no longer feel anything; the nerves in those areas had died. And when the smell of rotten flesh was noticeable, Ikkaku pretended not to notice. That it was nothing bad.
You didn't notice the tears welling up in her eyes as she watched the inevitable happen.
You reached Twin Cape safely. It was as if something stronger was watching over you. Neither of you got off the boat to ask for information at the lighthouse. The man who guarded the entrance to Paradise sat frowning, looking at the ship without understanding.
No ship ever arrived alone.
Crocus jumped onto the deck of the small ship. He walked towards the door and, as he opened it, he got a surprise.
Two women were on the floor, crying, while the one who appeared to be the mother held a baby in her arms and the other sobbed happily.
For a few hours, he heard the other girl, Ikkaku, crying and repeating over and over that it was a miracle. Crocus checked the vital signs of the mother and child. A girl had been born in such a violent and unique sea. Both were fine. But the rare disease in the mother's body was now ravaging her womb.
The miracle Ikkaku was referring to was now understandable to the old man. With the bone exposed in her arms, it was a blessing that the girl had been born before the disease touched her. And she did not seem to have contracted it.
The three stayed for a few days at Twin Cape, Crocus helping to build a cradle for the girl. He gave them a log pose and invited them to eat.
"Why are you in Grand Line?" asked the old man, discreetly observing the sick woman.
"We're looking for a man," said Ikkaku, biting into her fish.
"The girl's father?"
"I wish," mumbled Ikkaku under her breath, and you kicked her foot with yours.
Whenever she could, she repeated that your childhood sweetheart must be the girl's father, not that monster. She consoled herself with the thought that, at least, he would raise her. But she wasn't sure she could abandon that baby.
In recent months, she had made an incredible friend who looked at her with sparkling eyes and admired everything she could do. Your compliments and sweet comments every time she sailed or healed you brought a thousand smiles to her face. You were a good woman. Crossed by evil beings.
"We're looking for my best friend, Trafalgar Law," you said with a smile.
"Trafalgar Law? I think I've heard that name..." Crocus put a finger to his chin thoughtfully. "Ah! The rookie with the Ope Ope no Mi. I remember now. He was here two months ago."
"He was here?" you asked excitedly.
"Ope Ope no Mi?" Ikkaku continued.
When Ikkaku heard Crocus, she was quick to get you and the baby onto the ship. The man said goodbye to the three of you, wishing you luck in finding the man quickly.
Your friend was excited. It was crazy that a Devil Fruit of that magnitude existed. If you were lucky and found it, then you could live. It could heal you. You could watch your daughter grow up.
Sailing those waters was torture. Ikkaku kept you inside the small room with the baby. Complete rest for you and protection for both of you from the high temperatures and sudden storms. The information she got on the first island about Trafalgar Law was useless. He hadn't visited it. He had taken another direction.
Ikkaku climbed onto the boat in a huff, sitting down next to you on the deck as she opened the bag of food. Buying two meals hadn't cost that many berries, and she was grateful for that. She had spent the rest on nappies, clothes for the three of you, all sorts of things the baby might need, and baby formula.
The two of you sat down to eat while the baby slept in the cradle in front of you.
"She looks just like you. A carbon copy."
You choked on your noodles.
"Do you think so?"
"She has your hair, your eyes, your nose, and she'll have your smile. It makes me happy to see her," Ikkaku stated, laughing.
You ate happily, without taking your eyes off your daughter. She looked like a healthy baby. There were no marks like yours on her tiny body. And she was cheerful. Ikkaku always made her smile, even without teeth. You didn't have to do much to make the baby smile.
"What will you call her?"
"I haven't the faintest idea."
"I bought a book of names too," said Ikkaku, opening another bag.
You giggled as you read the book beside her. There were so many, and you didn't like any of them. You looked up to observe the child and discarded names from A to C when you didn't think they suited her.
"Look at this one!" Ikkaku shouted. "Cora."
"Cora?"
"It means love, affection, and sensitivity." You were about to dismiss it, but Ikkaku put a hand in front of you. "But also rebirth, cycles of life and death, and transformations."
Your heart tightened as you watched the baby in the cradle open her eyes, closing them in annoyance at the sun.
Over the next two months, you watched her grow a little more. You fed her a bottle, bathed her, and dressed her in pretty outfits. Ikkaku had decided to take you to see the islands. She didn't want you to spend your last days, with your illness so advanced and your bones showing through your skin, locked up between four walls.
The two of you visited many places, towns, and customs in Paradise. Together, you chose clothes for Cora, who had taken on that name. There was no name more perfect for her. Rebirth and transformation. You wanted your daughter to have a free life and grow up as she pleased, without anyone taking anything away from her. You wanted her to have a life different from yours.
Finding Law was difficult. It was as if he had vanished into thin air. You asked around in every seedy bar. You saw how his bounty gradually increased, and you kept all his wanted posters.
It was in his fifth month on the Grand Line that Law received information from the underworld.
The young captain held the paper in his hand, sitting in his office. It was nothing. It just said that a woman had been looking for him for three months. And many people were looking for him to take revenge. There was no guarantee that that woman was you.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. Shachi and Penguin should have already obtained the supplies for the Polar Tang, but like Bepo, they were probably wandering around the island. They would set sail in an hour. Rushing to get ready for it irritated him.
Bepo was walking around the new island eating from a bag of crisps. What should he buy? What would his captain like? Maybe a new pen? He pretended not to, but he knew he kept glitter pens in his drawer. He never used them, but he didn't throw away his gifts either.
In his moment of distraction, he bumped into a woman.
Bepo blushed and tried to apologise quickly, but he stammered when he saw her. She had curly hair and wore a cute orange hat. Her face was covered in tears, she tried to speak, but her lip trembled violently and a sob escaped her throat. He looked down at her hands. She was carrying a basket.
He had to look twice to discover that there was a baby inside.
The woman fell to her knees, devastated, and Bepo knelt in front of her, nervous and not knowing what to do.
"Is Trafalgar Law with you?" she managed to whisper to the polar bear.
Bepo's expression shifted from surprise to confusion to uncertainty in a matter of seconds. What could a woman and a child want from their captain?
"Depends who's asking."
"Y/N."
The polar bear gasped as he looked at the woman and the baby, but she looked nothing like the girl in the photo Law had hanging in his room. The girl he had only mentioned twice. The woman standing in front of him couldn't be Law's best friend.
"She passed away," whispered Ikkaku.
Bepo carried the basket with the baby and dragged the woman, who couldn't stop sobbing, with him. On the way, he ran into Penguin and Shachi, who stopped joking around with the bear and quickly followed the three of them, worried. No one understood what was going on.
No one understood why their captain had been locked in his office with a woman and a baby for fifteen minutes. If the mink knew anything, he wasn't saying.
Ikkaku wiped away her tears and told him everything. How she met you. Why you looked for her. How you became friends. Your pregnancy. What had happened in your life. Your illness. Nothing was withheld from the golden-eyed man who listened attentively without taking his eyes off the baby.
Cora-san had told him not to lose faith.
One of his many missions as a pirate was to find you. To reconnect with his past through you, to remember how good life was when childhood innocence had not been taken away.
He waited for a miracle that would bring you before him, only to be struck by your past, as painful as his own. Only to hear how this woman, Ikkaku, had witnessed your last wish a week ago. Law couldn't hear, his ears were ringing, he had lost you.
Now, as they spoke, that ship in which you had searched for him for months was carrying your body, adrift, among flowers and a blanket that belonged to your daughter.
Law squeezed the edge of the examination table where the baby was sleeping, letting out a couple of tears.
"Did you say a disease?" he murmured.
Ikkaku handed him a notebook. When he opened it, he found several drawings. They were good, even detailed.
"I called it living putrefaction. It was the result of an experiment. The spots were like... Like a worm was eating her skin, digging and digging until there was nothing left," she whispered.
Law looked at the child.
"She was in the bones when she forced me to take the baby."
"Did she force you to leave her alone?" Law growled.
"Her daughter was important to her."
"So was she. I could have done something. My fruit... I could have..." The frustration in his voice was not lost on Ikkaku.
"Cora needs a good father," she said. "Those were her last words."
Law's heart skipped a beat. The girl's name was Cora? Cora, like...
"Cora?"
"Isn't it a pretty name? Y/N chose it." Ikkaku smiled.
Law swallowed a sob. Of all the names, you chose that one. Somehow, everyone in his past was connected. The baby babbled something, catching Law's attention. He let her take his tattooed finger in her hands and smiled painfully.
"And by the way, I'm joining your crew."
"Excuse me?"
"You may be Cora's father, but I'm her favourite aunt. I'm not leaving her side." Her authoritative tone wiped the smile off Law's face.
Life on the Polar Tang became chaotic.
Cora crawled from one corridor to another. If she wasn't in his room or his office, she was in the control room staring at the screens in amazement. The good thing about travelling in a submarine was how much it could entertain a little girl. She would often sit on the floor of the control room, surrounded by cushions with her little legs stretched out, putting things in her mouth. Her hand, her bottle, her dummy, Penguin's hat, whatever was within reach. And it was also common for Hakugan or Shachi to juggle to avoid stepping on her when they stood up from their posts distracted and didn't see her.
The addition of a baby girl to the crew was not taken badly. Bepo was delighted with the child. He said there was no safer place in the world than their submarine. Shachi and Penguin took her on trips to all the islands to find women, saying something about how women liked men who were affectionate with children. In the end, they would return disappointed, without even having received a kiss themselves, but with Cora's cheeks covered in lipstick.
They would get scolded by Law, who would wash her hands and cheeks whenever they brought her back from their walks, muttering something about germs.
Hakugan loved showing her the different fish through the screens in the control room or through the few windows there were. They would get scared if a very large one appeared. When Cora cried, Law would snatch her from his arms, taking the girl with him while he calmed her down.
No one but Law could calm her down when she cried.
Ikkaku wanted to take care of buying her clothes, especially for her first birthday, but Law wouldn't let her. He was a devoted father. And he had a soft spot for those chubby cheeks and cute animal outfits for babies. He would never admit how much he loved cute things.
"Cora-chan, happy birthday!" Penguin shouted, holding up a cake. The single candle on the cake was a sad sight.
"Couldn't you buy a candle with the number on it and some other decorations?" Law grumbled.
"Captain, you're offending me. I did everything I could," he complained, leaving the cake on the kitchen table.
"That's a lie, he spent the berries on clothes for a girl who ended up giving him nothing but a smile as thanks," Bepo said.
"Bepo!? You promised not to tell!"
The polar bear shrugged, smiling at little Cora, who was wearing a cute polar bear costume.
By the time Cora was two years old, she could already say "daddy" and a few other words. Her favourite was "boring".
Law smiled at her, showing her a frog. The girl looked at what was in front of her on the desk with disgust. Why was her father showing her something so ugly?
"So, you use the scalpel and make a clean cut in the centre," he murmured as he made the cut.
Cora leaned back in his chair, frowning.
"Frogs are an incredible subject of study. When you grow up and become a doctor like me, I'm sure you'll understand when..."
"Daddy, boring," she complains, jumping out of his chair.
The last thing Law saw was her running towards the door, asking Bepo to go and play on the deck. The polar bear happily carried her. And Law lowered his arms in defeat.
Cora was restless. She enjoyed playing all the time, which resulted in the occasional scrape. The number of times he disinfected her knees and elbows was countless. The older she got, the more he realised how much she resembled you. It wasn't just physically. Cora's personality was lively, similar to yours.
The little girl was three years old when Law decided to teach her to read.
He wanted her to have an advantage over others. There was nothing better for a child than to be educated, cultured, and remain free from illiteracy. An educated person was the key to the future. So, every Tuesday and Thursday, he would sit the girl in the kitchen while Bepo and Ikkaku prepared onigiri for her.
The tattooed man was thrilled when his daughter told him it was her favourite food. His chest swelled with pride at the thought that his daughter thought he was cool. With cool tastes.
He opened a page of the book that showed the entire alphabet. Cora bit into her onigiri without looking at the page. Law tapped his finger twice to get her attention.
When Cora didn't look at him, Shachi and Penguin covered their mouths to hide their laughter. But everyone could hear soft "pfft" sounds.
"Hey, Shachi, do you think child prodigies are born or made?"
"I don't know, Penguin, but I think someone at that table is dumb."
"My daughter isn't dumb!"
"Dad isn't dumb!"
Father and daughter stared at each other. Penguin and Shachi filled the air with their laughter, making Cora blush.
"Penguin and Shachi look dumb in their uniforms."
The two stopped laughing and turned to look at the kid, hands on their hearts. Law blushed too.
He had chosen the crew's uniforms.
"Are you calling your father dumb?" Penguin hinted.
"Calling parents dumb is disrespectful, Cora-chan," Shachi said, shaking his head.
"Dad doesn't look dumb! He has that cool hat."
That single sentence sealed Cora's fate. Or so everyone in the crew told their captain. For her fourth birthday, Law gave her a hat just like his, made to measure. They walked everywhere together wearing the same clothes. If Law wore a yellow shirt and his spotted jeans, Cora wore a yellow shirt and a spotted skirt. If Law bought a blue feather coat, Cora wanted the same one in black.
She was a mini Law with your face.
What surprised Penguin and Shachi the most was how easily the girl learned to read. Law had told them that his mother was a restless child who refused to study, but Cora had picked up all her father's habits. Ikkaku, Bepo, and Law (in denial) were dying of love when they saw the girl sitting on the deck railing every morning with a book in her hands. Her favourite subject to research was birds. There was one in particular she wanted to find in Grand Line. A phoenix.
It didn't take her long to learn from her father that there was a Phoenix Devil Fruit. And Cora wanted it. She wanted to fly, to see the world from above. She was disappointed when they explained that Marco, Whitebeard's right-hand man, already had it.
That same year, the girl ran up to him. As a father, he was concerned and thought she had scraped herself again. Ikkaku gasped when she saw the black spot on her arm. It was the same disease her mother had had.
But this time, the curly-haired woman was able to witness what could have happened to her friend.
Law worked diligently. He asked his daughter to remain calm as he extended his hand and a blue dome, as thin as a curtain, enveloped her. Within his power, Law could perform miracles. This was the greatest one he could perform. To save your daughter and allow her to live peacefully, just as you wished. He separated the little girl's body into many small pieces until he found the source of the disease, and removed it.
Ikkaku prayed that, wherever you were, you could rest in peace, without stopping laughing when Law returned the little girl to normal and she jumped into his arms, shouting that it was fun to see her limbs floating. As if that were normal.
The girl was five years old when a scream caught the attention of the entire crew. They had gone to a small restaurant to celebrate Bepo's birthday. They rarely indulged in going out to celebrate. They usually did so in the kitchen of the Polar Tang, but if they could, they appreciated food prepared by someone else.
The Heart Pirates ran after Cora's voice. Law found it suspicious that Penguin and Shachi were not at the table when the scream was heard.
When they found them, Cora's white shirt was covered in blood and she was holding her mouth.
Penguin and Shachi stood next to a closed door, the first one pulling a thread towards him. They high-fived each other while looking at the tooth.
Understanding the situation, Law's eye twitched. He stretched his hand out in front of him without taking his eyes off his friends.
Caution: this text includes graphic descriptions of involuntary violence/abuse (themes of mind control), vomiting, self-harm (scratching hands) and blood. Be mindful of your media consumption.
[When Miss Goldenweek paints you angry and vicious, Zoro has to be the one to wipe the paint off. There's one problem: he absolutely refuses to use force against you.]
Sanji's version
You used to find Zoro’s blasé attitude charming. It was like a breath of fresh air when you’d get too deep into your thoughts or let your anxiety run wild. Zoro would just shrug, give you a ten-word response and move on. In all their vagueness, his answers always show you a new, healthier, perspective – if it can’t be helped, don’t worry and if something can be done, then why lose sleep over it? Zoro never failed to be a dependable rock you can lean on.
Now that you think about it, stuck in a jungle with dinosaurs, his lack of care is entirely infuriating. What was once an easy-going attitude currently appears to be complete and utter disinterest in your person. His laconic answers are nothing more than doing the bare minimum to keep you around – just enough engagement to have a pretty thing on his arm whenever he’s bored. Now that you think about it, he tends to form longer sentences when he’s bickering with Sanji. It seems that arguing with the cook elicits more emotions from him than spending time with you, whom he claims to love. For the record, Zoro has never used the “l-word” towards you. Perhaps that should have been your first clue. You’re left guessing as to the nature of your relationship, using only breadcrumbs of his attention as evidence. He seems completely content with that arrangement and it’s no wonder – Zoro gets all the benefits of being in a relationship without acknowledging any of the commitments.
He’s walking a few paces ahead of you, hand loosely gripping the sword as he slashes through some of the thicker bushes. Zoro is marching on through the jungle like some sort of a pioneer, when anyone who’s met him knows that the great swordsman is capable of getting lost on a roundabout. Ridiculous.
With gritted teeth, you sigh audibly. Who put that joker in charge anyway? Since when are you supposed to listen to that man-child with swords sharper than his brains?
“You’re lost, Zoro,” you call out to him. “Let’s turn back.”
“I know where I’m going,” he answers, without as much as looking at you.
“No, you don’t. You’re clearly too stupid for that.”
The moment you hear the insult in your own voice, something switches inside you – anger and frustration suddenly disappear, like fog does in the early hours of a spring morning. Even if you were cross with him, it’s no excuse for being mean to him. When did you get so rude with him?
Zoro momentarily stops. Slowly, he turns around to look at you. His stern gaze, along with a blank face, doesn’t tell you much in terms of what’s going on inside his head. Whether he’s angry, surprised or doesn’t care at all, it’s impossible to tell.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” The wanton tone of his voice drips from his words and burns through you like acid. “I didn’t realise I found myself in the presence of an expert navigator.”
He doesn’t seem interested in a response as Zoro turns around and continues walking forward. For a moment, you’re just standing there, watching his back steadily move away from you. Whatever guilt you have felt for being rude to Zoro is completely gone now. If he’s allowed to be snappy, why shouldn’t you be? Perhaps it’s high time you finally stopped excusing his childish behaviour and dish out what he makes you take day after day.
“This is the longest sentence you’ve said to me today.” Your voice cuts through the pleasant rustling of jungle foliage, the first lightning that splits the black sky on a stormy night.
Zoro marches on, swinging his sword to cut through vines and bushes. “You keep score?” he asks in a casual voice, seemingly unaffected by your comment.
Could he at least pretend to care about what you have to say?
Your hand clenches into a tight fist, nails digging into sensitive skin. “Yeah, a whole lot of zeros in there.”
He stops again. Zoro turns slightly, now standing sideways towards you. A tired sigh leaves his lips as the man barely manages to stop himself from rolling his eyes.
“If you like talking, go find the cook,” he says. Despite the blasé attitude, there’s tension in his voice. “I’m sure he’d be glad to talk your ear off.” Having said that, Zoro turns his back to you once more. His shoulders sit strangely higher than they did before.
For a second, you’re completely speechless. It’s as though he’s grown weary of pretending to like you or even tolerate you. As long as you were convenient to him, Zoro was fine with putting up with you. Now that you’ve developed some backbone, he can’t be bothered.
“Hey, you green-haired ass! I’m still talking to you!”
“And I’m not listening.”
“I hate you!” Your voice is carried by the echo of the jungle, long-held fury shaking ancient trees at their very roots. The chirping of small critters or insects suddenly dies down.
The silence that follows your words is strangely loud. It feels as though for a moment even the genius loci of the forest remains unnervingly quiet, awaiting what comes next.
Zoro stands frozen, only a couple of metres away from you. He would resemble a marble statue if it weren’t for a slight twitch of his hand – he’s stopping himself from doing something terribly unwise.
His long-awaited answer comes in a shaky, strangely quiet voice:
“Cool.”
Roronoa Zoro is tearing through the forest like he has a personal grievance against the island of Little Garden. The loud rustling of foliage could well be a never-ending plaint from the woodland spirits residing in each leaf and each flower destroyed underneath Zoro’s heavy boots. With each swing of his sharp sword, the vines are silently begging for an explanation. When have they insulted him? Why is he taking his anger out on them?
Zoro’s breath is forced out of his lungs as he hits the ground with a loud thud. He has no chance to inhale – an arm wraps around his neck, it’s hold quickly tightening with surprising strength. Two legs circle his waist, rendering him immobile to simply shake off the attack. Tears momentarily fill his eyes. The foliage underneath him blurs into a vague sea of greenery.
Somehow, Zoro manages to keep his focus instead of giving in to the rising, primal panic of suffocating. With a good kick against the ground, he turns over, forcing his assailant to lie against his rather large frame and the dirt. The right arm keeps choking him. Before the left hand can rest on the back of his head and finish the move, Zoro twists so that he and the attacker are lying on their left sides. The hand is stuck under the weight of his body. He easily kicks off the legs around his waist. Both of Zoro’s arms lift the assailant’s right hand and the swordman swiftly slides out of the deadly hold.
Zoro gasps for air. With oxygen returning to his lungs, the world surrounding him becomes sharper. Perhaps he was choked for a little too long, as he can’t quite believe the image before him is real and not a crazed nightmare brought by asphyxiation:
You’re staring at him with a frenzied look in your eyes. Fury melds with something as empty as it is terrifying; it’s as though your soul, your humanity, has left you for good. This husk has once responded to your name but it has nothing in common with the woman nagging at Zoro to clean up after himself or cuddling him as he sleeps into late, afternoon hours.
He knows you’re not being yourself. There is no doubt in his mind that if you had any control over your actions, you wouldn’t be trying to choke him. Still, he remains frozen. To his own surprise, Zoro doesn’t feel any will to fight. Even as much as defending himself carries the risk of hurting you. You wouldn’t hold that against him; he knows that. His heart, however, refuses to listen to reason.
I had no choice! You made me do it! I did it for your own good!
Isn’t that exactly what all brutes say? If he raises his hand against you, what exactly separates Roronoa Zoro from a violent tyrant? As the world is long and wide, is there a deity that would accept his excuse and grant him absolution for such a sordid sin?
Perhaps the question should be reiterated: could he ever deserve your grace and forgiveness for acting no better than a savage?
His moment of reckoning is fast approaching. Whatever beast resides inside your body now, it crawls on top of Zoro once more. Hands that used to caress and cradle are wrapped around his neck. They are choking his life out of him, yet he can’t force himself to fight back. To some degree, he’s willing to accept such an end.
Your voice sounds hoarse, croaked. It doesn’t resemble human sounds. “I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired of your bullshit, Zoro.”
The realisation settles in his viscera like a blunt knife slowly being pushed through each layer of his body: there is no malevolent spirit, no demon or anything of that sort. All of the anger, violence and murderous hands… it’s you.
“What… the hell?” With your hands tightly wrapped around his throat, Zoro’s words come out as a wheeze.
“After all I’ve done for you!” One of your hands leaves his throat only to grab his jaw. You pull his head up a few inches and smash it against the ground underneath you. “All you had to do was be fucking grateful, you vermin.”
Zoro repeats to himself that something strange had to happen for you to turn into a beast blinded by rage. As you keep hitting his head against the dirt, the quiet reassurance inside him dies down. It’s replaced by high-pitched ringing. The deafening sound is disorienting, slowly making Zoro incapable of telling left from right.
His dying need to survive takes over for a moment. Large arms try to push you off of the man with pathetically weak shoves, no stronger than a child. He could free himself. Zoro knows that. However, a cruel sense of loyalty stops him from exercising any more of his power; Roronoa Zoro can’t bring himself to even risk hurting you. The infamous pirate hunter is going to die on some god-forsaken island because he can’t stand the sole thought of being unkind to you. Not a glorious end by any means but a fitting one. He vowed not to raise his hand against you and Zoro would be damned not to keep that promise.
Some die for honour, others die with it.
Everything stills. The ringing in his ears quiets down a little. A sense of relief washes over him. For a moment, he wonders whether this is what death feels like: time stops, the world becomes silent and he simply drifts away, as if carried by languid ocean waves. Peace, at last.
If there is some higher being watching over him, they’re making themself known. The hands clenching around his neck and jaw pull back. As Zoro tries to breathe again, a wheezing cough disturbs each shallow inhale. The weight of your body leaves him as quickly as it caged him to the ground in the first place.
When Zoro finally manages to sit up, he’s met with a quite dramatic scene. You’re leaning against a nearby tree, trembling body curling into itself in a futile attempt to become so small you could slip through the cracks into another universe where none of this had taken place. Tears are running down your face. Your breathing turns into shallow pants, chasing air that keeps escaping your lungs. Nails scratch palms with obsessive fervour, almost breaking open the sensitive skin. It’s as though you’re trying to remove the sickening sensation of feeling Zoro’s life slowly leaving him.
He should be angry, wary. The same person tried to kill him mere minutes ago. Zoro may be a seasoned swordman but right now, he is only a man. And this man has to bear witness to how the woman he loves is losing her sanity, crushed underneath the weight of guilt that might not even belong to her.
The woodland shrubbery rustles underneath his feet as Zoro steps towards you. Immediately, you look up from your scratched hands and try to crawl back further into the tree trunk behind your back. There is nowhere else for you to go.
“Don’t come any closer!” you yell. Despite his better judgment, Zoro stops. The confusion and terror in your eyes are already gnawing at his lovesick heart. He doesn’t dare make it worse. “I don’t…” Your voice dies in your throat. How can you even explain yourself when you don’t understand what’s going on? “I don’t know what happened. I-I can’t control it.”
Some part of him begins to wonder whether this is some ploy to gain an advantage over him. Zoro, being just a man, decides to trust your words. He forgoes ideas of schemes or betrayals. You are under someone’s influence but demons, witches and evil spirits are all bedtime fairytales for unruly children. Since there is no magic involved, there must be something…
A speck of red catches his eye. There, right above your ankle, is a swirl painted on your skin. He’s seen it before.
“Miss Goldenweek,” Zoro says quietly, suddenly understanding what exactly had taken place in the jungle. The fight, the choking, the fear. “I’m getting that paint off of you and then I’m going to kill her,” he states. His voice carries no emotion, as though Zoro is announcing something completely ordinary, like killing someone is a routine on par with taking a shower and tying his shoes.
Hearing him mention paint and Miss Goldenweek, you start examining your entire body. There’s no way to tell when the hallucinogenic chemicals will start working again. When that happens, Zoro might not have as much luck as he had before. Considering his state, the fact that he is somehow still conscious and lucid, there’s no point in hoping for another miracle. He might, finally, drift away with the ocean waves.
The moment your eyes fall on the red paint above your ankle, something switches inside you: your head is filled with strange, violent thoughts that you grow to agree with. It’s impossible to tell where Miss Goldenweek’s work ends and you begin. As the whispers of fury gnaw at your brain and force you to believe them, a strange sensation burns right under your skin. It feels like a call to action that cannot be ignored. You have to move, to hit something or crush in your hands, maybe that will be some relief.
You have to make him pay.
Even now, he’s standing a few paces away from you, staring down at your curled body. He doesn’t offer to help you stand up. Your hands are almost scratched raw and he’s completely unbothered. Zoro couldn’t care less. As if a selfish, childish man-thing like him could ever look past the tip of his own nose. The fact that he’s refusing to fight back is further proof of how little he thinks of you. He doesn’t think your tantrum is worth as much as breaking a sweat. After all, he won’t have any trouble finding another commodity to take your place. One with even less backbone, perhaps.
You lunge at Zoro with speed and strength that surprises both of you. He falls, hitting the ground once more. This time, however, Zoro is prepared. When you try to put your hands on his neck, he grabs them. His hold is firm, yet strangely gentle considering the circumstance – he’s using just enough strength to keep your arms in place. In an attempt to gain more leverage against him, you pull your legs further up his torso. You’re almost sitting on top of his chest, knees closing in on his head. Out of the corner of his eye, Zoro takes notice of the red paint staining your skin. It’s withing reach, only if he decides to lower his defense. Not exactly a great choice.
The decision is made for him. Perhaps there is something, or someone, watching over him. Frustrated with your inability to end Zoro’s life, you sink your teeth into his forearm. Unfamiliar sweet and metallic taste overwhelms your senses, warm liquid running down your chin in a thin streak.
A groan of pain rumbles inside his throat. Zoro clenches his jaw, trying desperately to regain control over himself. He knows what he has to do.
Zoro takes advantage of your temporary interest in chewing on his forearm. He reaches his other hand towards your leg. The red paint smears into a stain that looks more like a rash, rather than an artistic design.
That unnerving silence again. It is the stillness of nature in the face of a prowling predator; the tense quiet of a necropolis awaiting its new resident.
You crawl off of Zoro in clumsy, hastened moves. He’s still within reach when your body shakes with emesis. Blood, bile and saliva mix in your mouth, only to be vomited onto the green foliage below you. A sour smell fills your nostrils, making you even more sick.
He’s quite unsure what he should do, so he settles for the most simple action. Zoro kneels beside you, a warm hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. He keeps whispering something but in your state of mind, you only catch every other “you’re okay” and “I’m right here”. Zoro consoling his would-be killer would sound hilarious if it wasn’t so sad.
There’s no telling how much time has passed until you stopped retching and sat down. Sweat and tears mix into one sign of suffering. The raw skin of your palms burns. Your whole body is tingling with numbness. If only you could claw your way out of it. Maybe then you could finally say that the one who tried to kill Zoro is not you; only then would it be true.
“So, uhm…” Zoro hangs his voice, silently debating whether he truly wants to meet the consequences of his pending question. “Do you really hate me?”
Roronoa Zoro is a formidable man. He towers over others and demands respect solely through his presence. A simple flicker of his gaze could bark orders that should not be defied. The man in front of you, however, has little in common with the infamous pirate hunter. He appears as a completely different Roronoa Zoro – small, fidgety, unsure. His silence no longer creates an aura of power but that of a boy wondering whether he deserves the love he so desperately craves.
“No,” you whisper, voice hoarse from throwing up. “I don’t hate you, Zoro.” The words bring you some sense of relief. It’s as though you’re expelling the remnants of Miss Goldenweek’s sick game out of you. Maybe it’s you who needs more convincing than Zoro. “I could never bring myself to hate you.”
He only hums in response. It’s hard to tell whether he believes you. He wants to believe, that much is certain.
“I care about you,” says Zoro. The sound is quiet, unsure. In some way, it’s fearful. What if some other incomprehensible malice hears his confession? “A lot.”
“I know.”
It is quite symbolic that it’s Zoro he reaches for you. Whatever strength is left in him, he uses it to pull you towards him in a tight embrace. Your head rests in the crook of his neck. One of Zoro’s arms circles your shoulder. Quite unfortunately, you have the perfect view of the bite on his forearm. Dark, crimson blood is already drying, leaving long streaks along his skin. This your doing. Your cardinal sin, a stain that shall cling to your very soul.
The rustling of jungle foliage almost drowns out your whisper. “I could’ve killed you.”
“Fat chance.”
Zoro’s eyes also stay on the wound. The bite will remind him for the rest of his days: Roronoa Zoro could fight back, and yet he didn’t. When it mattered, he chose loyalty and love over his own survival. Some might call that foolish. There is, however, much wisdom in that final sacrifice. To take lives in the name of adoration is easy. The tragedy belongs to someone else. The killer gains glory and power in exchange for their humanity, if there still is something to sacrifice. Death in the name of love is not unlike a leap of faith. Will it change anything? The echo of church bells and marching cortege shall repeat the answer until it joins the silence of aeons past: I hope.
Perhaps that is the greatest show of strength. To know that proving your skill or prowess doesn’t always make one a winner. That to win one must be willing to bleed, for to bleed is to be alive.
Hii! I love your fics so much it’s crazy 😭 Can I request maybe a OP character (anyone, strawhats if possible..👀 like Zoro for example WHO SAID THAT??) where reader is such a yapper, like they never stop talking and one day the character had like a bad day or sum and they got annoyed at reader speaking too much so they tell them to shut up or like something like that, but then reader gets hit by a devil fruit ability and gets mute for some times?? It would be very appreciated thank youu😙
The Silence Between Us
╰┈➤ pairing: Zoro x gn! reader
a/n: hey yall ive been on vacation sorry but im working on everyones request and the request box is closed rn 😭 (edit: it’s open now!)
summary: After Zoro snaps at your constant talking during a bad day, you're struck by a Devil Fruit power that renders you mute, forcing him to confront just how much your voice, and your presence, mean to him.
From the moment the sun peeked over the horizon to the late hours of the night, you filled the air with words , stories, questions, dreams, wild thoughts, jokes (some good, some terrible). You talked to Chopper while he worked, to Robin while she read, to Nami while she navigated, and especially to Zoro while he trained.
He pretended not to listen most of the time, grunting or responding with “mm” or “tch,” but you kept talking anyway, never really needing a reply.
You didn’t notice the tension until it broke.
The crew had returned from a rough skirmish on a new island. Everyone was exhausted. Zoro had taken the brunt of it again, after shielding a village from a collapsing cliff with nothing but his swords and his own body. He hadn’t said much the whole walk back. You followed him onto the Sunny, chattering all the way.
“And then Sanji totally panicked when the lady offered him ten kids in exchange for soup, did you see that? And oh my god, did you catch Usopp trying to bribe the snake guy with candy? Also- ”
“Can you just shut up for five seconds?”
You froze mid-sentence.
The words landed like a slap, not loud, but sharp. Zoro didn’t yell. He didn’t even look at you. His brows were furrowed, jaw tight, eyes shadowed by frustration and fatigue.
“I’ve had a shit day,” he muttered, turning away. “I can’t deal with your constant talking right now.”
You stood there, mouth slightly open, hands half-raised in some unfinished gesture. The silence that followed was deafening. For the first time, you didn’t have a comeback. You didn’t even try to laugh it off.
“…Right,” you said quietly, backing away. “Sorry.”
You left him on the deck without another word.
The next day, you were on a scouting mission with Luffy and Brook when it happened.
You were talking of course something about the shape of clouds looking like mashed potatoes when a strange-looking woman stepped out from behind a tree, pointed a finger at you, and said:
“Silencio.”
A ripple of air hit your chest. You blinked.
Nothing felt wrong… until you tried to ask Luffy what just happened and-
Nothing.
Your mouth moved. No sound came out.
Panic set in quickly. You clutched your throat. Tried again. Nothing.
Brook gasped. Luffy shouted something incoherent and charged after the enemy Devil Fruit user. You were left there, speechless in the most literal way, voice stolen.
By the time the crew returned and explained what had happened, you had already started writing notes to communicate. Chopper confirmed it: a Silence-Silence Fruit. The mute effect would wear off, eventually but no one knew exactly when.
Zoro found out later that evening.
He saw you at dinner, sitting quietly at the table. Not talking. Not laughing. Not making a single comment about Sanji’s overly decorative dessert or Franky’s attempt at sea-cucumber cola.
It was Nami who finally said it.
“They got cursed or something by a Devil Fruit user,” she muttered, stabbing her food. “They can’t speak for a while.”
Zoro nearly dropped his plate.
He stood slowly, heart pounding, and stepped out onto the deck.
You were there already, sitting on the edge, knees pulled to your chest, the waves reflecting in your eyes. You heard his footsteps and looked up, giving a small smile, polite and distant.
He hated it.
“I… didn’t know,” he said quietly. “They just told me.”
You nodded.
Zoro stepped closer. “Was it when you went with Luffy? That’s when- ”
You nodded again, slower this time.
He stopped beside you and sat down, his jaw clenching.
“You’re not talking,” he muttered. “Feels weird.”
You gave him a small shrug. The silence stretched.
Zoro stared out at the water. “…I didn’t mean what I said yesterday.”
You didn’t look at him.
“I was tired. In pain. I snapped. That’s not an excuse, but…” He ran a hand through his hair. “You didn’t deserve that.”
You hugged your knees tighter.
“You talk a lot,” he said, a little helplessly. “But I like it. I got used to it. It’s just sometimes my head’s too full. And I took it out on you. That was my screw-up.”
He glanced sideways at you. You were listening, really listening, but your expression was unreadable. He sighed.
“I miss your voice,” he muttered, barely above a whisper.
You blinked, surprised.
“I mean it,” he said, meeting your eyes. “This silence? It’s worse than the noise.”
You looked down, then slowly reached into your pocket, pulling out a folded scrap of paper and a pencil stub. You scribbled something and handed it to him.
“It’s okay. I know I talk too much sometimes.”
Zoro stared at the words, then looked back at you.
“No, it’s not okay,” he said firmly. “You talk because it’s part of who you are. It’s how you connect with people. It’s how you make the ship feel… alive. I was just too selfish to see that yesterday.”
You wrote something else.
“Did you mean it, though? When you told me to shut up?”
Zoro flinched. He didn’t answer right away. He looked down at the deck, fists clenched.
“I meant I needed quiet. I didn’t mean to hurt you. If I could take it back…” He exhaled hard. “You’re the last person I’d ever want to silence.”
You were quiet for a beat. Then, slowly, your hand reached over and took his fingers warm and soft around his calloused ones. You gave it a small squeeze.
Zoro looked at your joined hands, then at you.
“Next time I need space,” he said quietly, “I’ll say it without being a bastard. And when you get your voice back… I hope you’ll talk even more, just to punish me.”
That made you huff soundless, but clearly a laugh and you leaned against his side, resting your head on his shoulder. He let you, turning slightly so he could rest his cheek against your hair.
The sea rocked beneath the Sunny. The stars blinked quietly above. And even without words, everything you needed to say was there in the silence, in the shared warmth, in the way Zoro held your hand just a little tighter.
And when your voice finally came back days later, the first thing you did was say his name.
Zoro turned immediately, eyes wide, and you smiled and whispered, “Still love you, even when you’re a jerk.”
He didn’t answer.
He just pulled you in and kissed you like your words were the only ones that mattered.
you die in battle.
⚠️ tags: headcanons. angst, reader dying. tw: death, war, mentions of religion for law, blood, guns, violence and trauma.
guilt. his stomach drops, like his own life force has been kicked out of him. he carries you on his arms, scowling, his mind echoing a chorus of i knew it. i knew it. i knew it. back there, law had shielded your body with his, telling you to just stay behind him at all times. whispering into your ear like a vow: “if they want you, they’ll have to go through me.”
of course, he’d forgotten something important: pirates shouldn’t make any promises.
“no- no, no, no…”
“law,” you breathe out, your hand weakly resting on his. “i hope you’ll forgive me one day.”
“fuck, no!” he refuses. “i won’t! so don’t you dare fall asleep on me!”
once it’s all set and done, you don’t really… rest. you’re kept in the deepest corner of his lab, clean and heavenly, miles beneath the sea in his sub.
he doesn’t move on.
with you, law finally found a reason to stay alive, and now he has a secret only he knows; he’ll walk to your room to pray to you religiously, every single night, devoted for the rest of his life.
anger. zoro promised himself the very same day he tasted defeat at mihawk’s sword, that he would never lose again.
except he just did.
he didn’t listen to you at first. when you noticed things took a wrong turn and you weakly pushed him away from the situation, zoro grabbed onto you, stating with a straight face, “it’s gonna take a lot more than that to stop me from keeping you safe.” he thinks now, in the midst of the consequences; if, when you urged him to go help his captain instead, if he had insisted on taking you along with him, would things have turned out differently? would you be okay?
“you knew it, didn’t you?” zoro grits his teeth, his vision blurry. “huh?! that your time was over?!”
no one dares come close to touch your body, now succumbed to war. they don’t help him get up from the gnarly ground and lay you to rest. the crew stays quiet for however long he needs, even if the air surrounding him grows heavier and heavier each passing hour, even if he remains in the same position for days... eventually, zoro buries your body somewhere far away, where he knows no one would dare touch it.
his swords gleam ominously as he places a curse on your grave: anyone who approaches with ill intentions won’t live to see another day.
grief. immediately, luffy knows your time’s up. desperation takes over his body as he screams in agony, tears running down his cheeks. still, he’s making one last attempt, carrying your almost lifeless body and the weight of the world on his shoulders, each step growing heavier than the last. thump, thump, thump. trying to find chopper amidst the fog, dust, and rubble; through the smoke of gun barrels and the different corpses lying around.
“luffy…”
“i got you. i got you, okay?”
his words settle heavily on your heart as he runs, runs, runs, yelling for someone– anyone to help.
“no more crying, luffy, hey–” you cough, blood spattering onto the gritty nape of his neck.
you slowly continue, as coherent as you can. “no matter what path awaits you,” in a future without me, “you can’t give up. promise?”
you just don’t understand that luffy needs you to live- strung up to a million machines, it doesn’t matter. he was selfish. he’s been selfish enough to keep you alive next to him all this time. yet, now you’re... not.
when the crew tries to pry him away from you, he yells at them to fucking stop, his voice foreign to his own ears. thing is, luffy knows, deep down. he’s been through this once before, after all.
now, he’ll have to carry you with him in his heart forever.
SUMMARY: Sometimes getting drunk while celebrating with your crew, while your ex was there, was a really, really bad idea. But you were drunk, so how bad can it actually be?
GENRE: Smut. Tiny bit of fluff and angst.
WARNINGS: Ex to lovers, reader being obnoxious, heavy drinking, minor spoilers for the end of Wano, sexual activities while being drunk (no penetration)
WORD COUNT: 2.3k words
You were never the type of girl to get drunk and drown your heartbreaks in alcohol. But you just freed a country from an emperor, so you thought one night (more like a week) of bad decisions was worth it.
Everyone was excited, basically, for a week, the country of Wano celebrated non-stop, a week where you realized that your ex had a new love interest (at least in your eyes, that was it). But could you really blame the princess of Wano for falling for him? Strong, big, reckless, and brave. And unfortunately, you hated every single time you saw them together. Even if it was only speaking, you felt an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach.
But why? You were the one who ended things. You were the one who was tired of the emotionless relationship you had with Zoro. He was free to be with whomever he wanted, just not in front of you. And it was ok! At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself when you knew damn well that you wanted to die.
The girls, however, were worried sick. Because, well, yes, they would even drink if they feel like it, get a little loose, but not every single night. Your excuse of “we deserve having a little bit of fun before returning to the real world, where we are going to be chased” was starting to get old. But they didn’t know how to help you. Well, they actually did know. Call Zoro for help, but they were sure that you would either hit him or completely ignore him.
What was even worse was the fact that you tried to forget Zoro with other guys. Kid, Killer, even tried with Law, but nothing would help you forget about Zoro just a little. An annoying voice that sounded a lot like his was always in the back of your mind, reminding you they just weren’t him. They couldn’t and wouldn’t make you feel as good and loved as he did.
And that’s how you found yourself, sitting on Sanji’s legs, playing with his hair while Zoro was looking attentively at your actions, ignoring Hiyori who was by his left side. Poor Sanji, he wasn’t dumb. He knew you wanted to make Zoro jealous, and he would take every single opportunity to mess with him, even if it meant being used by a gorgeous woman.
“Liking that?” He asked while you chugged another bottle. You nodded at the blonde after putting the bottle down, a little bit too tipsy for your own good.
“Yup!”
“You will get alcohol poisoning if you keep drinking like that.” You could tell he was worried.
“But this is our last night here ‘Ji, don’t you just wanna have some fun?” Your hand that was previously playing with his hair was now caressing his ear, making him shiver in response. He shook his head. You were playing a dangerous game that would cost him if he continued indulging.
“I do, but I also want you to be alive after this week.” He stopped your hand and put it in your lap. Even if he was enjoying the physical contact, he didn’t want you to regret anything tomorrow, knowing fully well he wasn’t the one you actually wanted.
Zoro, on the other hand, felt like he could break the cook’s bones at any moment, because even if he could tell he was restraining himself, he still saw the way one of Sanji’s hands was grabbing your hips, the way his eyes would close whenever you said something in his ear, and the way Sanji would lick his lips whenever he saw yours. However, he was grateful, because knowing Sanji, he would’ve already taken you to another room where he could have some privacy with you, but he hasn’t.
And the image of you leaving with Sanji was enough for Zoro to stand up, completely ignoring Hiyori’s complaints, and make his way to you. When Sanji saw him, he was kinda glad he was finally doing something after the week you just gone through.
He stood up and carried you in bridal style, ready to hand you over to Zoro to fix whatever situation you needed to. You were about to complain when you smell him. Zoro.
“Just don’t make this worse, mosshead.” Zoro was now leaving with you in his arms. The chatty version of yourself that was with Sanji completely disappeared. You didn’t have the energy to throw a tantrum. Heart too heavy to even react.
“What? Cat got your tongue?” He asked without looking directly at you as he exited the room you were in. The chill breeze of the night made you tremble, making Zoro move you closer to his chest.
“I hate you.” You said, but not in a mean way, more in a playful manner.
“Bet you do.”
“I hate you and your-“ Hiccup! “big body-” Hiccup! “and your stupid handsome face.” Hiccup!
“God, how much did you drink?”
“Dunno.” You pouted. This was the first time the two of you were alone in sooooo long. And you would hate to admit it, but your whole body was on fire. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that you were well aware of his hands in your body, but you could feel his presence in your soul.
You stayed in silence, wondering where he was taking you, when you decided to break the silence.
“Shouldn’t you be with your perfect little princess?” You grumbled and earned a chuckle from him, which was weird because most of the time, he was stoic as fuck.
“You jealous?”
“Bfft, of course not.” You haven’t felt this calm in weeks. Your head was now resting on his shoulder. You breathed in and closed your eyes. “I like this.” You whispered, and that’s when he finally looked at you, but only for a moment, before continuing to look straight ahead.
God, you looked so pretty like this, moonlight illuminating your face softly. He didn’t understand why you decided to just break up with him. He considered himself a good boyfriend. Keeping his distance when he thought maybe you wanted to be alone, not showing too much affection, why would he? He knows you know he loves you. Knowing was enough. But the moment he thought about it, it clicked. Of course you ended up breaking up with him. He was surprised you put up with his emotional and physical distance for so long.
He missed you so much. And he was a little bit disappointed that he hadn’t realized this sooner. Because if he had, you would still be together, you wouldn’t think he had an interest in Hiyori, and he wouldn’t hear that you wanted to forget him with another guy that would fall for your schemes. And he wouldn’t admit it to you, but it worked, just not in the way you expected. He would hear from Robin and Nami, your newest conquest, making his blood boil, but he wasn’t your boyfriend anymore. You weren’t his. So he just stayed away. It doesn’t mean he wasn't really close to breaking.
You felt him stop, and that’s when you opened your eyes. You were in front of his room.
“Ahmm. Thanks, but I think it would be best if I go to MY room.” He put you on the floor, but quickly grabbed you by your waist after you stumbled.
“Yeah, I think not.” His strong hold prevent you from running away, and you whimpered. You hoped he didn’t listen, but he did and decided it was best to ignore it if he didn’t want you to run away.
“And what, stay here with you?” You joked and started to laugh, but quickly stopped when you saw his serious demeanor. He didn’t answer. He just opened the door and, with a swift move, carried you by the legs.
“Zoro, what the f- PUT ME DOWN!” You started to kick and punch him, not really hurting him. He thought he was being hit by a kitten. A really cute but hard to handle one. He laughed. And you froze, letting him put you down with delicacy. It was so rare to hear him laugh, but god, how you loved the sound.
“There. Happy?” You mumbled a small thanks and started to look everywhere but at him. He sat down on the edge of his bed, while grabbing both of your hands and bringing you closer.
You don’t know what took over you, but your hands went straight to his hair and started to play with it.
“So you brought me here to…?” You questioned him while your hands were roaming all over his hair and neck.
“I just want to be with you.” You quirked an eyebrow, feeling some kind of pride and relief after hearing him.
“So you want me for sex?” Where did this sudden confidence come from? He slid his arms around your waist, bringing you as close as possible.
“I’m not fucking you.” He could see your disappointment. “Not while you’re drunk.” He looked up at you, and you looked down at him, making your knees weak at the sight. His eyes were screaming two things: need and lust.
“Ah.”
“However, I can still make you feel good…” His hands started to untie your belt and open your yukata, showing that you were only wearing your underwear. He smirked. You didn’t cover yourself. Alcohol giving you the confidence you wouldn’t have if you were sober. You kept your yukata on.
He started to leave wet kisses on your abdomen, making your breathing hitch. With every kiss he was leaving, you could feel a rush of excitement go directly to your core.
“So you're only teasing?” You asked while one of your hands grabbed him by his hair, stopping his actions, so you could straddle his lap.
“I wouldn’t do that to my girl.” The possessive adjective made your stomach jump.
“Yeah?” You fully sat down on his crotch, and just moved your hips once over his hard cock. You heard him swear.
“Let me make you feel good.” He said while sucking hickeys on your neck. You only nodded, too drunk, but this time on him.
His left hand went straight to your core, moving your panties to the side, middle finger slowly moving over your pussy, smearing your juices all over.
“Zo-“ You moaned his name in his ear. His left arm went around your waist to help you steady yourself.
“Mhm?” His finger was now flicking your clit so painfully slow, giving you pleasure, but not enough to start building your release.
“Shit, please.” You whimpered.
“What? Just say it, baby. I promise your wish is my command.” He could feel you getting wetter with every circle around your clit.
“Make me cum, pleeaseee.” You sounded so pathetic, but so sweet.
“With only one condition.” He stopped, and you groan in complaint. “You are never leaving me ever again. Got it?” You quickly nodded, not really sure if it was because you actually wanted to get back with him or if you were too worked up that you would do anything to get your release. “Say. It.”
“I won’t ever leave you, Zoro. Just- fuck,” his finger started to move in circles in your entrance, teasing you, never really going in, “please make me cum. I’ll do anything you want.” Zoro smiled, and without any warning, two of his fingers went in while the palm of his hand started to move in circles over your clit.
“Fuuuuck.” Zoro was astonished. “Shit, don’t stop.” You were never this vocal, always trying your best to keep it down. He has to admit he was grateful you were drunk, because he was damn sure it was the alcohol inhibiting your senses.
His thumb was now playing with your clit while his other 2 fingers were still fucking you good. You grabbed his shoulders strongly for some kind of balance. Your knuckles started to become white. Every movement was slowly building up your orgasm. You needed it so bad. And Zoro could tell too. Your cries and whimpers were what he needed to know he was doing a really great job. He could hear how wet you were. Wet noises were filling his ears. God, he could even smell your scent.
“I’m-,” you cleared your throat, “closse.” He could tell. You were now panting, breathing too erratically. Your hole was squeezing his fingers so good that he wished it was his cock inside you, making you feel this good.
“It’s ok, baby, come around my fingers. You deserve it.” His fingers continued with the same movement, pressing his thumb to your clit, while still moving it in circles.
“Shiiit, Zo. D-on’t stopp.” You were now slurring your words, and it only took some other movements for you to finally cum. You could feel the pleasure running all over your body, head heavy. You were panting.
Zoro didn’t dare to move, not wanting to overstimulate you, and he could feel your clit throbbing against his thumb. Alcohol plus an orgasm was a deadly combination, mostly because he could tell you tried your best not to move. You were dizzy, but so happy at the same time.
He slowly moved his fingers out of you and his hand away from your core. He cleaned his hand on your clothes.
“Hey!” You protested.
“Is not like you are gonna need it anyway.” He took the yukata off of you, and you shivered. The air wasn’t as warm as it was earlier. He hugged you after you were only left with your underwear. His hands started to caress your back, trying to warm your body up.
“I won’t let you leave me. Ok?” You smiled and only nodded. God, you were so happy. And you didn’t know who to thank. Sanji, or all the alcohol that allowed you to be reckless. Maybe both.
