Roronoa "do you even own a shirt" Zoro (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
yourotherleft) wrote2014-11-26 12:38 am
yourotherleft) wrote2014-11-26 12:38 am
Entry tags:
Zoro's thoughts, November 24
That Monday morning, Zoro rolled out of his hammock and stumbled to the galley much the same as any other morning. He'd taken first watch as usual as they fled the creepy house island, and then dropped in to sleep for a handful of hours, just enough to stay upright until sails were raised, chores were done, and he could have his first nap. He expected this morning to be like every other: nose into the galley to see if breakfast was ready yet, and if it was, plop to a seat at the table and enjoy it. Then, whenever the cook was done cleaning up, they could have their new routine spar to help train him to get stronger. But that morning, the galley was quiet and dark. Lights off, no pots and pans out on the stove, no sign that Sanji had even gone in yet.
Weird.
Zoro turned on his heel and briefly searched the ship, but he was certain the cook hadn't still been asleep. His hammock had been empty, and Zoro had no company in his own, so clearly the man had to be around here somewhere. But he wasn't. Before anyone else even awoke, he had torn the ship apart from stem to stern, crow's nest to keel, and the cook was nowhere to be found.
The realization punched him in the chest right away. It was just like that time with Luffy and Robin, only this time, they had been completely out to sea. They hadn't left the cook behind, and Zoro would have seen him on deck while on watch, so he obviously disappeared from the ship in the middle of the night. There was a moment of anger, seething rage at Davy Jones for fucking with them and maybe at Sanji for not being able to be there for them, to feed them, but it passed quickly. It had to - Zoro did not have time to dwell on feelings. He didn't have to send a message to ask anyone, he knew. Sanji was gone.
Luffy came back, he told himself firmly, with conviction. Robin came back. He'd even heard Crocodile's dulcet tones on the journal and knew it was possible to come back multiple times, weeks or months later. The cook wouldn't leave him like this. He had to come back. He would be back. He would not go the route of Nami and Usopp and Rayleigh. Yes, as long as Zoro believed in it, that's how it would go. He even considered that, like Luffy, Sanji had not yet experienced his two years of training. Perhaps it was exactly like they'd talked and joked about, so recently - perhaps it was his turn to grow up and get stronger.
That was perhaps the only reason why, when Zoro had to inform the others that he'd searched the ship and their cook was gone, that he didn't sound too broken up about it. No one would hear his voice waver, or see dark emotions in his good eye. He accepted it, and moved on. At least, that was what he wanted them to believe, and perhaps a good part of him believed it, too. He convinced himself that he was fine, that there wasn't anything to worry about. Sanji would be back, and if he wasn't, well, they had to find someone else to do the cooking in the meantime anyway. Someone had to feed this crew and keep them strong. Not him, he couldn't even chop broccoli correctly. He could catch fish but not cook it. Someone had to take care of them, that was a more pressing need than how he felt about missing Sanji. Feelings were not important, survival was. And Luffy...
Shit, he just heard about Ace. And now this...
Zoro stayed firm throughout the day, showing no signs of being bothered. He didn't speak much to the crew, aside from necessity, and worked out rather than nap, but if anyone were to look at him, even those who knew him well would not see him frown more than usual, or his eye look sad, or anything else remotely akin to sulking or fretting. He did his job and took care of things, as necessary, and did not entertain any discussions of where Sanji went or why or whether he'd be back. He had to believe in silence, talking about it was wasted energy. About the only unusual thing he did was scoop up Blue and carry the little bald cat up to the crow's nest when he went on watch again. Not that it was all that cold in this part of the ocean, at night, but the kitten was like a tiny, velvet hot water bottle, and had decided that his haramaki was the best spot to nap, so they could help each other out. Zoro settled with his back against the mast and Blue curled up in a ball in a fold of the fabric around his waist, and prepared to wait out the dawn.
Of course, now was the time for his thoughts to burst out of the corral, to race around his head and torment him while his defenses were down. Doubt tried to get him to believe that the cook would never come back, Melancholy asked him why he bothered getting attached when he knew it would end someday, and Pride chastised him for being so weak as to develop feelings at all. Zoro, at least, recognized the foolishness for what it was and didn't listen, though he didn't shut it down either. He sat with his legs folded and hands limp in his lap, almost a meditative pose, while he worked to stretch out with his haki, to continue practicing with it until he could sense the schools of fish passing under Merrily's hull below. It was an exercise meant to calm him, but the thoughts kept intruding at inappropriate turns. He dismissed them as a product of having his comfortable routine disturbed, nothing more. He had lived in the moment for so long, neither dwelling on the past nor looking too far ahead with anticipation, that it wasn't difficult to shut down the doubts in the end, and turn them to something else.
It was, at least, about time he admitted to himself that he had feelings for the cook. He wasn't always good at expressing them, and they still fought enough to make anyone wonder, but there was something else there. Something that had, perhaps, awakened back in the spring when he realized that Sanji had wanted to stay near him when he was injured. It still lay dormant for a while, until an irrational flash of jealousy had brought it much closer to the surface. Very soon after that they were getting married, and...
...right. That. A promise that shouldn't have been made, but once made, could not be broken.
Zoro didn't seriously consider himself married, he had only said it to the goddess at Yuezhong to get her off his back and nothing more. What he never said to anyone, and only barely might have even realized at the back of his mind, was that in that temple that day, he had made a promise all right. Not the one the priest was talking about - a different one, one that made sense to his lifestyle and needs and desires and could, really, be kept. Zoro's true vow was to be, for Sanji, whatever he needed. A protector? A friend? A rival? A sparring partner, a sounding board, a means of physical release, whatever. To Luffy he had long ago promised to become a right hand, but Sanji was different. He didn't need support and really, didn't need protecting either, at least in the physical sense - not the way some others in the crew did. The cook needed an equal, and Zoro had always been one, without knowing it. The stupid ceremony in the damn temple only gave him a chance to inwardly verbalize it, to himself more than anything. It broke him of the habit of openly antagonizing the cook and drove him to find more productive ways to push him and keep him on his toes, keep his life exciting and get his brain or his feet working harder, as well as the things they did in private to drain energy. Those, too, evolved over the months, to be less about need and more about want. Zoro allowed himself to want, to set aside his focus and give in to his raw, sensual side, and was rewarded with the new experience of being able to feel. He discovered that it wasn't such a bad thing after all, and that the world wouldn't end if he enjoyed a kiss for the kiss's own sake once in a while. He learned so much in such a short time that it was no wonder he got attached. Even just a week or so ago, for his birthday, he was doted upon in such a way that he didn't even realize it was doting. His favorite food and drink, some time with friends, and then time alone, even the thing in the hammock! Sanji was treating him exactly the way he wanted to be treated, by anyone, and that was why Zoro loved him.
His head thunked back against the mast. No, I can't say that. It's not love, it can't be. It's something, sure, but not that. They could still be jerks to each other sometimes, and that didn't count as love, so it couldn't be love. Feelings. He could go with 'feelings.' That was fine. If the cook came back - no, when the cook came back - he might not remember all of that. If he went through the same experience as Luffy, he could come back feeling very differently, if at all. In that case, nothing need be said about feelings. Zoro could, and would, suffer in silence if necessary. Because, after all, feelings were irrelevant when survival was on the line. He could push them aside as easily as he took them up in the first place. And no one would ever know.
When he came down from the crow's nest in the wee hours, he had one stop to make before tumbling into his hammock. Blue needed to find a new napping place, anyway, so Zoro pried him out of his haramaki and, opening his locker, nestled the kitten onto another piece of his clothing folded inside, using it as a makeshift bed as long as he left the locker open. While there, he reached into the top shelf to find something he had only just put back there after Luffy had found it. The gold ring was cold to the touch, and no longer caught the light thanks to a layer of tarnish and fingerprints, but that didn't matter. Zoro quietly stood there for a moment, using a loose piece of cord to tie the ring to the wrapping on Shuusui's saya. He tied it tightly so it wouldn't dangle, bounce, and ding if it struck the saya or tsuba or one of the other swords. Satisfied, he laid the swords aside for the night and gave Sanji's empty hammock across the room one brief, sad look before he covered his feelings with his usual stoic mask and flopped down to sleep.
Weird.
Zoro turned on his heel and briefly searched the ship, but he was certain the cook hadn't still been asleep. His hammock had been empty, and Zoro had no company in his own, so clearly the man had to be around here somewhere. But he wasn't. Before anyone else even awoke, he had torn the ship apart from stem to stern, crow's nest to keel, and the cook was nowhere to be found.
The realization punched him in the chest right away. It was just like that time with Luffy and Robin, only this time, they had been completely out to sea. They hadn't left the cook behind, and Zoro would have seen him on deck while on watch, so he obviously disappeared from the ship in the middle of the night. There was a moment of anger, seething rage at Davy Jones for fucking with them and maybe at Sanji for not being able to be there for them, to feed them, but it passed quickly. It had to - Zoro did not have time to dwell on feelings. He didn't have to send a message to ask anyone, he knew. Sanji was gone.
Luffy came back, he told himself firmly, with conviction. Robin came back. He'd even heard Crocodile's dulcet tones on the journal and knew it was possible to come back multiple times, weeks or months later. The cook wouldn't leave him like this. He had to come back. He would be back. He would not go the route of Nami and Usopp and Rayleigh. Yes, as long as Zoro believed in it, that's how it would go. He even considered that, like Luffy, Sanji had not yet experienced his two years of training. Perhaps it was exactly like they'd talked and joked about, so recently - perhaps it was his turn to grow up and get stronger.
That was perhaps the only reason why, when Zoro had to inform the others that he'd searched the ship and their cook was gone, that he didn't sound too broken up about it. No one would hear his voice waver, or see dark emotions in his good eye. He accepted it, and moved on. At least, that was what he wanted them to believe, and perhaps a good part of him believed it, too. He convinced himself that he was fine, that there wasn't anything to worry about. Sanji would be back, and if he wasn't, well, they had to find someone else to do the cooking in the meantime anyway. Someone had to feed this crew and keep them strong. Not him, he couldn't even chop broccoli correctly. He could catch fish but not cook it. Someone had to take care of them, that was a more pressing need than how he felt about missing Sanji. Feelings were not important, survival was. And Luffy...
Shit, he just heard about Ace. And now this...
Zoro stayed firm throughout the day, showing no signs of being bothered. He didn't speak much to the crew, aside from necessity, and worked out rather than nap, but if anyone were to look at him, even those who knew him well would not see him frown more than usual, or his eye look sad, or anything else remotely akin to sulking or fretting. He did his job and took care of things, as necessary, and did not entertain any discussions of where Sanji went or why or whether he'd be back. He had to believe in silence, talking about it was wasted energy. About the only unusual thing he did was scoop up Blue and carry the little bald cat up to the crow's nest when he went on watch again. Not that it was all that cold in this part of the ocean, at night, but the kitten was like a tiny, velvet hot water bottle, and had decided that his haramaki was the best spot to nap, so they could help each other out. Zoro settled with his back against the mast and Blue curled up in a ball in a fold of the fabric around his waist, and prepared to wait out the dawn.
Of course, now was the time for his thoughts to burst out of the corral, to race around his head and torment him while his defenses were down. Doubt tried to get him to believe that the cook would never come back, Melancholy asked him why he bothered getting attached when he knew it would end someday, and Pride chastised him for being so weak as to develop feelings at all. Zoro, at least, recognized the foolishness for what it was and didn't listen, though he didn't shut it down either. He sat with his legs folded and hands limp in his lap, almost a meditative pose, while he worked to stretch out with his haki, to continue practicing with it until he could sense the schools of fish passing under Merrily's hull below. It was an exercise meant to calm him, but the thoughts kept intruding at inappropriate turns. He dismissed them as a product of having his comfortable routine disturbed, nothing more. He had lived in the moment for so long, neither dwelling on the past nor looking too far ahead with anticipation, that it wasn't difficult to shut down the doubts in the end, and turn them to something else.
It was, at least, about time he admitted to himself that he had feelings for the cook. He wasn't always good at expressing them, and they still fought enough to make anyone wonder, but there was something else there. Something that had, perhaps, awakened back in the spring when he realized that Sanji had wanted to stay near him when he was injured. It still lay dormant for a while, until an irrational flash of jealousy had brought it much closer to the surface. Very soon after that they were getting married, and...
...right. That. A promise that shouldn't have been made, but once made, could not be broken.
Zoro didn't seriously consider himself married, he had only said it to the goddess at Yuezhong to get her off his back and nothing more. What he never said to anyone, and only barely might have even realized at the back of his mind, was that in that temple that day, he had made a promise all right. Not the one the priest was talking about - a different one, one that made sense to his lifestyle and needs and desires and could, really, be kept. Zoro's true vow was to be, for Sanji, whatever he needed. A protector? A friend? A rival? A sparring partner, a sounding board, a means of physical release, whatever. To Luffy he had long ago promised to become a right hand, but Sanji was different. He didn't need support and really, didn't need protecting either, at least in the physical sense - not the way some others in the crew did. The cook needed an equal, and Zoro had always been one, without knowing it. The stupid ceremony in the damn temple only gave him a chance to inwardly verbalize it, to himself more than anything. It broke him of the habit of openly antagonizing the cook and drove him to find more productive ways to push him and keep him on his toes, keep his life exciting and get his brain or his feet working harder, as well as the things they did in private to drain energy. Those, too, evolved over the months, to be less about need and more about want. Zoro allowed himself to want, to set aside his focus and give in to his raw, sensual side, and was rewarded with the new experience of being able to feel. He discovered that it wasn't such a bad thing after all, and that the world wouldn't end if he enjoyed a kiss for the kiss's own sake once in a while. He learned so much in such a short time that it was no wonder he got attached. Even just a week or so ago, for his birthday, he was doted upon in such a way that he didn't even realize it was doting. His favorite food and drink, some time with friends, and then time alone, even the thing in the hammock! Sanji was treating him exactly the way he wanted to be treated, by anyone, and that was why Zoro loved him.
His head thunked back against the mast. No, I can't say that. It's not love, it can't be. It's something, sure, but not that. They could still be jerks to each other sometimes, and that didn't count as love, so it couldn't be love. Feelings. He could go with 'feelings.' That was fine. If the cook came back - no, when the cook came back - he might not remember all of that. If he went through the same experience as Luffy, he could come back feeling very differently, if at all. In that case, nothing need be said about feelings. Zoro could, and would, suffer in silence if necessary. Because, after all, feelings were irrelevant when survival was on the line. He could push them aside as easily as he took them up in the first place. And no one would ever know.
When he came down from the crow's nest in the wee hours, he had one stop to make before tumbling into his hammock. Blue needed to find a new napping place, anyway, so Zoro pried him out of his haramaki and, opening his locker, nestled the kitten onto another piece of his clothing folded inside, using it as a makeshift bed as long as he left the locker open. While there, he reached into the top shelf to find something he had only just put back there after Luffy had found it. The gold ring was cold to the touch, and no longer caught the light thanks to a layer of tarnish and fingerprints, but that didn't matter. Zoro quietly stood there for a moment, using a loose piece of cord to tie the ring to the wrapping on Shuusui's saya. He tied it tightly so it wouldn't dangle, bounce, and ding if it struck the saya or tsuba or one of the other swords. Satisfied, he laid the swords aside for the night and gave Sanji's empty hammock across the room one brief, sad look before he covered his feelings with his usual stoic mask and flopped down to sleep.