I succumbed.
Title: Two of nine
Theme: Set #3 - Cafe
Claim: Zoro
Words: 1819
Rating: PG
Warnings: Assumes you know what happened in the Adventures of Young Roronoa Zoro, Part 3. Also, I had an imagination fail for the name of Zoro's kingdom, so I just used M--- like you see in old books sometimes...
Disclaimers: I don't own One Piece.
A/N: This is probably a bad idea since Oda's going to override this in canon in a few weeks (I hope! Please, no longer than that!), but here's the first of four fics bringing the Strawhats back together. Because I miss them too much.
"Swordsman-san?"
The voice comes out of nowhere. Zoro stops, and turns, and a smile spreads across his face when he sees her. He's never been so happy to hear himself called that deeply impersonal name. At least her voice isn't impersonal. It's calm, as usual, but her tone is warm, and it's all he can to do to keep his relief from manifesting itself in a hug.
"Robin! What the hell are you doing here?"
"I might ask you the same, Swordsman-san."
It's too long a story to embark on at the moment, telling of how he beat all the sword-monsters and then he and Perona took one of the rafts they used to catch fish from and then sailed off, her ghosts going on ahead to look for civilisation, of how they arrived and Perona promptly decided he was too uncute and too annoyingly immune to her powers now to continue journeying on further with him - and of how he had heartily agreed to split up and go their separate ways, Perona looking for Moria and Thriller Bark, him for Sabaody.
Instead he asks, "Where are the others?" and frowns when he sees her falter, which can only mean one thing. Complete defeat. He hadn't been strong enough.
"I believe they are all safe for the moment," she reassures him, seeing the lost look in his eyes. "We know for certain where Luffy-san is, and we have hints of the whereabouts of Cook-san and Nami-chan."
"We?" he queries, puzzled by her use of the plural.
"I'm sailing with the Revolutionaries at present." She notices the guarded look his face takes on at mention of her companions, and smiles. "It's all right, Swordsman-san. They haven't told me anything I didn't already know."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Anything? About what?"
She doesn't answer, merely smiles and glances at the little café to their left. "Are you hungry, Swordsman-san?"
He doesn't want to let her off the hook that easily, but he is starving. Their meagre supplies from the ruined kingdom were used up while sailing here, and he didn't have much in the way of money when Kuma sent him flying. "Yeah," he admits, but reluctantly, as if hunger is a weakness he shouldn't be susceptible to.
He follows her into the café and just orders what she orders, except that the glass of red wine becomes sake. He's not used to having the burden of choice. Life's a lot easier when you have a resident cook you can leave the menu to. Speaking of the cook...he smirks.
She knows that smirk. "Beli for your thoughts, Swordsman-san?"
"I was just thinking that if the shit cook knew we were eating at a café together he'd come rushing here to give me a kick to the head."
"Indeed. I wonder where Cook-san is now."
"If that damned bear guy sent him where he wanted, he's probably on an island filled with beautiful women dressed in skimpy clothes right now."
"I wonder. I certainly did not wish to be sent where I ended up." As she replies, she rubs her wrists absently, and he frowns a little.
"Something wrong?"
"Nothing wrong." She smiles, a little sadly. "More a bad memory than an injury."
"Enies Lobby?" he asks cautiously, guessing correctly, from personal experience, that it's a memory of seastone shackles, of freedom lost, of abandonment and treachery.
"No, far more recent. I don't have much luck with handcuffs." Her laugh is hollow, and he wonders whether to press for details. She saves him the asking by volunteering the story herself. It's a thrilling tale of capture, solidarity, daring escape, then rescue, and he curses inwardly every time a waiter drifts by to take away a dish or refill a glass and she pauses. But it's also a historian's tale, told as if its protagonist lived far away and long ago, rather than sitting at the table across from him, calmly spearing a tomato onto her fork.
Or perhaps it's a device to detach herself from yet another trauma in her already traumatic life. One she should never have had to go through. He hadn't been strong enough.
The story takes on emotion, a kind of repressed anger, only when she's talking about other people. Her fellow slaves, their appalling living conditions, the brutality of the guards, the children who knew no other life than misery. He clenches his fists, knowing that his people may have been among them, children like Ryo - of course, Ryo would be the same age as him, but it's hard to think of his childhood friend as grown-up, hard to think that maybe he never had the chance to actually grow up. He doesn't know whether it's worse that they should have been thrust into that life, or to have lived their entire lives under the yoke of slavery, never knowing what it meant to be free.
He feels a familiar twist of guilt in his gut, to think that he lived free, and still lives free, when his pride, his selfishness, was the cause of it all. The guilt only heightens when she describes the liberation of Tequila Wolf by the Revolutionaries. He could have been one of them. Should have been one of them.
But even if he could do it all over again, he wouldn't trade his place at Luffy's side for anything in the world. He's still the same selfish brat he was one year ago, ten years ago. Even if he lived it all over again, he would have made exactly the same choices.
If he'd been given the same choices to make.
Fate is one of the few things that still has the capacity to scare Roronoa Zoro. One small gesture. One chance meeting. Two chance meetings. Without them, life would have been so different. He could have been Robin, running forever from the World Government, a price on his head before he was strong enough to bear it. Instead he'd been sheltered, fed, taught what he'd wanted to learn, when he was ready to learn it. By most of his nakama's standards, he's positively spoilt. His gaze softens a little when he thinks about them, and what they've been through.
"Do you miss them?" Robin asks, her eyes fixed keenly on his, and he realises she must have read every emotion on his face while he was lost in his thoughts.
"Yeah," he admits, before he can stop himself. "Just a little," he clarifies, just in case she thinks he's going soft on her.
She just smiles the knowing smile he hates. "I was surprised when I learned that you'd joined Luffy," she comments. He doesn't quite follow how her mind leapt there from him missing the crew, but he snorts in disbelief anyway, because Robin is never surprised. "You could have been part of Baroque Works instead," she points out, "and yet you would only accept if you became head of the organisation."
"How'd you know?" He remembers telling Mr. 1 and Miss Doublefinger but not the rest of the crew. Unless Nami hung around to hear it, but he's pretty sure she would have had something to say about the size of his ego if she had.
"Because I was the one who sent the late Mr. 7 to issue the invitation," she smiles at him.
Oh. Right. He forgets, sometimes, that she was once an enemy. He hasn't thought about her that way ever since he found out about Ohara. "Sorry 'bout that," he says awkwardly, remembering the dismembered body of the Baroque Works officer agent.
"And yet you followed Luffy anyway when he asked."
Because I promised, he thinks, but he also knows that's no longer true. It hasn't been about the promise for a very long while now.
"He has an unusual talent for turning strangers, even enemies, into allies," Robin muses. Thankfully, she's off the topic of how he joined the crew now, but then she goes on to describe the latest news from Impel Down, of how Luffy had broken out and was heading towards Marineford with several of their former enemies - Buggy, Crocodile, Mr. 3 - in tow, to go and rescue Ace, and his heart twists and plummets to his stomach as he listens to her report.
I should be there. I promised to protect him.
He pushes back his chair and gets to his feet. They shouldn't just be sitting around here, with Luffy off starting a war. "Let's go."
A few hands covertly sprout out of his seat and pull him back down with a thump, and he shoots her a confused glare. "We won't make it in time," Robin points out. "The battle will be over before we're halfway there."
"But - Luffy!" he protests.
"You have to do what you can, Swordsman-san. For now, Luffy is beyond your protection." He winces as she says it, but he knows she's right. "So you have to do the next best thing, as first mate."
"I'm not first mate," he mumbles, but he knows what Luffy would want him to do. Gather up the crew, make sure they're safe. Trust in him, and the allies he's made.
It doesn't make him feel any better that he's powerless to help Luffy, but at least it's something he can do. Just as he was powerless to help his own people, but could entrust that task to Dragon and the Revolutionaries.
"Robin," he asks abruptly, "Was there anyone from M--- Kingdom among the slaves at Tequila Wolf?"
If Robin knows why he's asking, she doesn't show it. "There were thousands of slaves at Tequila Wolf, Swordsman-san, from many different countries. But from what the Revolutionaries were discussing, that was just the beginning of their campaign in East Blue."
Zoro releases his breath in a long sigh, and nods. If Dragon's still holding on to his promise, he'll hold to his. If there's one thing he can do for his people right now, it's probably to stand by Luffy's side as he declares war on the world.
It's a scary thought, but maybe Fate has him right where it wants him.
He gets to his feet, less suddenly this time, and holds out a hand to her. "Come on. Let's go find the others. Then we'll go get Luffy back." And privately, he adds, let's go change the goddamned world.
.....
I used (almost) the same fic ending twice in one day. Bad me :-(
Theme: Set #3 - Cafe
Claim: Zoro
Words: 1819
Rating: PG
Warnings: Assumes you know what happened in the Adventures of Young Roronoa Zoro, Part 3. Also, I had an imagination fail for the name of Zoro's kingdom, so I just used M--- like you see in old books sometimes...
Disclaimers: I don't own One Piece.
A/N: This is probably a bad idea since Oda's going to override this in canon in a few weeks (I hope! Please, no longer than that!), but here's the first of four fics bringing the Strawhats back together. Because I miss them too much.
"Swordsman-san?"
The voice comes out of nowhere. Zoro stops, and turns, and a smile spreads across his face when he sees her. He's never been so happy to hear himself called that deeply impersonal name. At least her voice isn't impersonal. It's calm, as usual, but her tone is warm, and it's all he can to do to keep his relief from manifesting itself in a hug.
"Robin! What the hell are you doing here?"
"I might ask you the same, Swordsman-san."
It's too long a story to embark on at the moment, telling of how he beat all the sword-monsters and then he and Perona took one of the rafts they used to catch fish from and then sailed off, her ghosts going on ahead to look for civilisation, of how they arrived and Perona promptly decided he was too uncute and too annoyingly immune to her powers now to continue journeying on further with him - and of how he had heartily agreed to split up and go their separate ways, Perona looking for Moria and Thriller Bark, him for Sabaody.
Instead he asks, "Where are the others?" and frowns when he sees her falter, which can only mean one thing. Complete defeat. He hadn't been strong enough.
"I believe they are all safe for the moment," she reassures him, seeing the lost look in his eyes. "We know for certain where Luffy-san is, and we have hints of the whereabouts of Cook-san and Nami-chan."
"We?" he queries, puzzled by her use of the plural.
"I'm sailing with the Revolutionaries at present." She notices the guarded look his face takes on at mention of her companions, and smiles. "It's all right, Swordsman-san. They haven't told me anything I didn't already know."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Anything? About what?"
She doesn't answer, merely smiles and glances at the little café to their left. "Are you hungry, Swordsman-san?"
He doesn't want to let her off the hook that easily, but he is starving. Their meagre supplies from the ruined kingdom were used up while sailing here, and he didn't have much in the way of money when Kuma sent him flying. "Yeah," he admits, but reluctantly, as if hunger is a weakness he shouldn't be susceptible to.
He follows her into the café and just orders what she orders, except that the glass of red wine becomes sake. He's not used to having the burden of choice. Life's a lot easier when you have a resident cook you can leave the menu to. Speaking of the cook...he smirks.
She knows that smirk. "Beli for your thoughts, Swordsman-san?"
"I was just thinking that if the shit cook knew we were eating at a café together he'd come rushing here to give me a kick to the head."
"Indeed. I wonder where Cook-san is now."
"If that damned bear guy sent him where he wanted, he's probably on an island filled with beautiful women dressed in skimpy clothes right now."
"I wonder. I certainly did not wish to be sent where I ended up." As she replies, she rubs her wrists absently, and he frowns a little.
"Something wrong?"
"Nothing wrong." She smiles, a little sadly. "More a bad memory than an injury."
"Enies Lobby?" he asks cautiously, guessing correctly, from personal experience, that it's a memory of seastone shackles, of freedom lost, of abandonment and treachery.
"No, far more recent. I don't have much luck with handcuffs." Her laugh is hollow, and he wonders whether to press for details. She saves him the asking by volunteering the story herself. It's a thrilling tale of capture, solidarity, daring escape, then rescue, and he curses inwardly every time a waiter drifts by to take away a dish or refill a glass and she pauses. But it's also a historian's tale, told as if its protagonist lived far away and long ago, rather than sitting at the table across from him, calmly spearing a tomato onto her fork.
Or perhaps it's a device to detach herself from yet another trauma in her already traumatic life. One she should never have had to go through. He hadn't been strong enough.
The story takes on emotion, a kind of repressed anger, only when she's talking about other people. Her fellow slaves, their appalling living conditions, the brutality of the guards, the children who knew no other life than misery. He clenches his fists, knowing that his people may have been among them, children like Ryo - of course, Ryo would be the same age as him, but it's hard to think of his childhood friend as grown-up, hard to think that maybe he never had the chance to actually grow up. He doesn't know whether it's worse that they should have been thrust into that life, or to have lived their entire lives under the yoke of slavery, never knowing what it meant to be free.
He feels a familiar twist of guilt in his gut, to think that he lived free, and still lives free, when his pride, his selfishness, was the cause of it all. The guilt only heightens when she describes the liberation of Tequila Wolf by the Revolutionaries. He could have been one of them. Should have been one of them.
But even if he could do it all over again, he wouldn't trade his place at Luffy's side for anything in the world. He's still the same selfish brat he was one year ago, ten years ago. Even if he lived it all over again, he would have made exactly the same choices.
If he'd been given the same choices to make.
Fate is one of the few things that still has the capacity to scare Roronoa Zoro. One small gesture. One chance meeting. Two chance meetings. Without them, life would have been so different. He could have been Robin, running forever from the World Government, a price on his head before he was strong enough to bear it. Instead he'd been sheltered, fed, taught what he'd wanted to learn, when he was ready to learn it. By most of his nakama's standards, he's positively spoilt. His gaze softens a little when he thinks about them, and what they've been through.
"Do you miss them?" Robin asks, her eyes fixed keenly on his, and he realises she must have read every emotion on his face while he was lost in his thoughts.
"Yeah," he admits, before he can stop himself. "Just a little," he clarifies, just in case she thinks he's going soft on her.
She just smiles the knowing smile he hates. "I was surprised when I learned that you'd joined Luffy," she comments. He doesn't quite follow how her mind leapt there from him missing the crew, but he snorts in disbelief anyway, because Robin is never surprised. "You could have been part of Baroque Works instead," she points out, "and yet you would only accept if you became head of the organisation."
"How'd you know?" He remembers telling Mr. 1 and Miss Doublefinger but not the rest of the crew. Unless Nami hung around to hear it, but he's pretty sure she would have had something to say about the size of his ego if she had.
"Because I was the one who sent the late Mr. 7 to issue the invitation," she smiles at him.
Oh. Right. He forgets, sometimes, that she was once an enemy. He hasn't thought about her that way ever since he found out about Ohara. "Sorry 'bout that," he says awkwardly, remembering the dismembered body of the Baroque Works officer agent.
"And yet you followed Luffy anyway when he asked."
Because I promised, he thinks, but he also knows that's no longer true. It hasn't been about the promise for a very long while now.
"He has an unusual talent for turning strangers, even enemies, into allies," Robin muses. Thankfully, she's off the topic of how he joined the crew now, but then she goes on to describe the latest news from Impel Down, of how Luffy had broken out and was heading towards Marineford with several of their former enemies - Buggy, Crocodile, Mr. 3 - in tow, to go and rescue Ace, and his heart twists and plummets to his stomach as he listens to her report.
I should be there. I promised to protect him.
He pushes back his chair and gets to his feet. They shouldn't just be sitting around here, with Luffy off starting a war. "Let's go."
A few hands covertly sprout out of his seat and pull him back down with a thump, and he shoots her a confused glare. "We won't make it in time," Robin points out. "The battle will be over before we're halfway there."
"But - Luffy!" he protests.
"You have to do what you can, Swordsman-san. For now, Luffy is beyond your protection." He winces as she says it, but he knows she's right. "So you have to do the next best thing, as first mate."
"I'm not first mate," he mumbles, but he knows what Luffy would want him to do. Gather up the crew, make sure they're safe. Trust in him, and the allies he's made.
It doesn't make him feel any better that he's powerless to help Luffy, but at least it's something he can do. Just as he was powerless to help his own people, but could entrust that task to Dragon and the Revolutionaries.
"Robin," he asks abruptly, "Was there anyone from M--- Kingdom among the slaves at Tequila Wolf?"
If Robin knows why he's asking, she doesn't show it. "There were thousands of slaves at Tequila Wolf, Swordsman-san, from many different countries. But from what the Revolutionaries were discussing, that was just the beginning of their campaign in East Blue."
Zoro releases his breath in a long sigh, and nods. If Dragon's still holding on to his promise, he'll hold to his. If there's one thing he can do for his people right now, it's probably to stand by Luffy's side as he declares war on the world.
It's a scary thought, but maybe Fate has him right where it wants him.
He gets to his feet, less suddenly this time, and holds out a hand to her. "Come on. Let's go find the others. Then we'll go get Luffy back." And privately, he adds, let's go change the goddamned world.
.....
I used (almost) the same fic ending twice in one day. Bad me :-(