Reformatted Zoro B-Day Prompt Requests
Nov. 13th, 2008 05:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsPer ladykarasu, who wanted "I will go with Luffy, and introspective regarding the wonderfully shippy request of Kuma"
Title: Unfathomable
Rating: G
Pairing: Luffy/Zoro
Word Count: 1,424
As much as he loved the Thousand Sunny and knew in his heart that it wasn’t a replacement for Merry and therefore that it was unfair to compare them, the one thing that really bothered Luffy about his new ship was the figurehead. It was really neat looking and the fact that it could launch missiles was incredible, but it just wasn’t nearly as comfortable as his old perch on Merry’s figurehead. He still had a special seat, but Luffy couldn’t drape himself quite as bonelessly over the curved spikes of the petal-mane and it wasn’t so easy to flop down and look back at his ship, at his nakama, in an unobtrusive way. Still, he tried his best, squirming until he had reclined as much as he was able while still being able to see the full expanse of the green-lawned deck. With his precious hat shading his eyes and his hands folded over his stomach, Luffy knew he looked very much like he was asleep. It was a trick he’d picked up from his wily swordsman and it was against that very man that he meant to put it to use.
They were a day out from the shadowy confines of Thriller Bark and two days had passed since Zoro had cracked open swollen eyelids to blink up at him. Three days was a long time for Zoro to have been unconscious. Three days was as long as he’d been out after he’d finally given in to his exhaustion in Water 7, the fights on Enies Lobby and especially against that bastard Rob Lucci catching up to him in an irresistible need for rest. Zoro didn’t look like his body’s enforced sleep had done him much good, though, and that was troublesome. Zoro had always seemed nigh-indestructible to Luffy, surviving the sorts of wounds that would have killed most men. Mihawk’s final blow had been one that even Luffy knew should have been deadly. Despite his rubber constitution, it had been bad enough that the captain hadn’t been sure, when he imagined himself in Zoro’s place, that he could have lived through it. But Zoro had, lived through that and much more.
Luffy had had a bottle or three at hand as he waited for Zoro to wake up, good strong stuff of the sort Zoro liked to use to recharge his batteries the same way Luffy himself turned to delicious meat. And when he’d offered one, Zoro hadn’t refused. But his throat hadn’t bobbed, the level of liquid in the bottle draining quickly, as he tilted it to his bruised mouth. Three shallow swallows, a fourth, and Zoro had put the bottle down as if it was too heavy for him to hold, the expression on his face twisted briefly into pain as if the liquor burned the entire way down to his stomach. He’d tried to smile then, at whatever he’d seen in Luffy’s face, and the captain had laughed lightly and set the bottle next to Zoro’s head.
“Hey,” he’d said.
“Hey,” Zoro had replied back, voice hoarse.
He hadn’t offered anything more and Luffy hadn’t asked, just squeezed him lightly on a bandaged shoulder as those green eyes searched his face. And then he’d gone, calling out to the rest of his nakama that Zoro was finally awake.
An hour later Zoro was out of bed and moving around, his gait stiff and with a limp. It was too soon, Chopper had kept exclaiming, dancing around the swordsman with anxiety, hooves held out as if he expected to have to catch Zoro at any second. But Zoro had set his jaw and kept going and when Chopper looked to him, Luffy had shaken his head.
Sitting on Sunny’s figurehead two days later, he felt a twinge of regret for that decision. Zoro was like him in that regard. Give him an inch and he was liable to take a mile. The weights had been out by sunset the evening Zoro woke and he came to dinner with fresh blood on his bandages. Chopper fussed and Nami scolded and Luffy sat and watched as Zoro stared at Sanji and the chef scowled and turned away without a word. He could feel Robin’s eyes on him then and almost he’d opened his mouth to say something but Brook had made a skull joke and the tension vanished from the room, the moment – his chance – gone.
He could see scarlet blossoming again from his perch, Zoro stubbornly out in the hot sun, his lack of a shirt almost unnoticeable from the yards of bandages Chopper had wrapped around him as if they could hold his broken body together. The sound of the weights was faint over the hiss of the spray as Sunny carved through the sea but Luffy could count. He knew there were more there than had been a week ago. And more was the last thing Zoro needed but no one could tell the swordsman that. Pride was at stake and Luffy, now that Zoro had been up for two days, had lost his chance to exert what little authority he had. Perhaps if he asked…but he didn’t know if he could bear to see what would cross Zoro’s face, what he would do if the swordsman refused.
Beyond watching Zoro forcing his body, the worst part was that no one was talking. The whole matter had something to do with him. Luffy was not blind and he felt the looks. Zoro’s eyes were on him as much as his were on Zoro’s. And Sanji, Robin, and Brook, they all knew something. They kept staring at him, at Zoro, and his nakama just didn’t get how easy they were to read. Whatever happened to Zoro, it had happened because of him. He could tell that much. But no one was talking and the last thing Luffy would do was force the issue. The last time he’d tried anything of the sort, he’d lost his temper and he’d had his awful fight with Usopp. It was one mistake he would not repeat.
Whatever had happened, Zoro was alive, all of his nakama were alive, and they were still moving forward, still following their dreams. Ultimately, Luffy decided, that was what really mattered. He had Zoro to be grateful to for that, it seemed, and for many other things. The swordsman kept taking weight onto himself, burdens that Luffy hadn’t even known he should have been carrying, and it was something to consider. Being a captain did mean knowing his limitations and getting the right sort of help but Zoro was probably stealing away more than his fair share. It was noble of him but he had to stop. They all had growing up to do and if Zoro kept protecting him from parts of the life he’d chosen, he wouldn’t learn what he needed. Still, he knew well, as he watched fresh blood stain white bandages, how hard it could be to let someone suffer, to fight a battle alone. And there were some benefits to being a captain.
Luffy hopped off the figurehead, glad to be out of the uncomfortable slouch and his mind made up. He could wait patiently for an explanation that may never come but he could also take action. Zoro had finally stopped watching him, eyes closed against the strain, and he flinched beneath the touch of Luffy’s hand on his shoulder. Those green eyes were tired and questioning and they made something inside of Luffy ache, the same ache he’d felt on and off every time his swordsman shouldered another burden. It was gratitude and respect and maybe something more, a place that scared him for it seemed so deep as to be unfathomable and he wasn’t quite ready to jump in and see if he could float or if he’d sink like a stone in that ocean in his soul.
“Hey,” he said, thumb gently rubbing at the tiny scrap of tan skin not covered by bandages. “Time to take a break.”
And Zoro stared at him, eyes widening before he ducked his head and gruffly said, “Okay.” But he wasn’t fast enough to keep Luffy from catching the hint of a proud smile on his face and it made Luffy grin and throw a none-too-caution arm over Zoro’s broad, battered shoulders.
“C’mon. Let’s go see if we can get Sanji to give us a snack. I’m STARVING!”
And Zoro nodded and let himself be pulled along in Luffy’s wake.
ladykarasu, who wanted "I will go with Luffy, and introspective regarding the wonderfully shippy request of Kuma"Title: Unfathomable
Rating: G
Pairing: Luffy/Zoro
Word Count: 1,424
As much as he loved the Thousand Sunny and knew in his heart that it wasn’t a replacement for Merry and therefore that it was unfair to compare them, the one thing that really bothered Luffy about his new ship was the figurehead. It was really neat looking and the fact that it could launch missiles was incredible, but it just wasn’t nearly as comfortable as his old perch on Merry’s figurehead. He still had a special seat, but Luffy couldn’t drape himself quite as bonelessly over the curved spikes of the petal-mane and it wasn’t so easy to flop down and look back at his ship, at his nakama, in an unobtrusive way. Still, he tried his best, squirming until he had reclined as much as he was able while still being able to see the full expanse of the green-lawned deck. With his precious hat shading his eyes and his hands folded over his stomach, Luffy knew he looked very much like he was asleep. It was a trick he’d picked up from his wily swordsman and it was against that very man that he meant to put it to use.
They were a day out from the shadowy confines of Thriller Bark and two days had passed since Zoro had cracked open swollen eyelids to blink up at him. Three days was a long time for Zoro to have been unconscious. Three days was as long as he’d been out after he’d finally given in to his exhaustion in Water 7, the fights on Enies Lobby and especially against that bastard Rob Lucci catching up to him in an irresistible need for rest. Zoro didn’t look like his body’s enforced sleep had done him much good, though, and that was troublesome. Zoro had always seemed nigh-indestructible to Luffy, surviving the sorts of wounds that would have killed most men. Mihawk’s final blow had been one that even Luffy knew should have been deadly. Despite his rubber constitution, it had been bad enough that the captain hadn’t been sure, when he imagined himself in Zoro’s place, that he could have lived through it. But Zoro had, lived through that and much more.
Luffy had had a bottle or three at hand as he waited for Zoro to wake up, good strong stuff of the sort Zoro liked to use to recharge his batteries the same way Luffy himself turned to delicious meat. And when he’d offered one, Zoro hadn’t refused. But his throat hadn’t bobbed, the level of liquid in the bottle draining quickly, as he tilted it to his bruised mouth. Three shallow swallows, a fourth, and Zoro had put the bottle down as if it was too heavy for him to hold, the expression on his face twisted briefly into pain as if the liquor burned the entire way down to his stomach. He’d tried to smile then, at whatever he’d seen in Luffy’s face, and the captain had laughed lightly and set the bottle next to Zoro’s head.
“Hey,” he’d said.
“Hey,” Zoro had replied back, voice hoarse.
He hadn’t offered anything more and Luffy hadn’t asked, just squeezed him lightly on a bandaged shoulder as those green eyes searched his face. And then he’d gone, calling out to the rest of his nakama that Zoro was finally awake.
An hour later Zoro was out of bed and moving around, his gait stiff and with a limp. It was too soon, Chopper had kept exclaiming, dancing around the swordsman with anxiety, hooves held out as if he expected to have to catch Zoro at any second. But Zoro had set his jaw and kept going and when Chopper looked to him, Luffy had shaken his head.
Sitting on Sunny’s figurehead two days later, he felt a twinge of regret for that decision. Zoro was like him in that regard. Give him an inch and he was liable to take a mile. The weights had been out by sunset the evening Zoro woke and he came to dinner with fresh blood on his bandages. Chopper fussed and Nami scolded and Luffy sat and watched as Zoro stared at Sanji and the chef scowled and turned away without a word. He could feel Robin’s eyes on him then and almost he’d opened his mouth to say something but Brook had made a skull joke and the tension vanished from the room, the moment – his chance – gone.
He could see scarlet blossoming again from his perch, Zoro stubbornly out in the hot sun, his lack of a shirt almost unnoticeable from the yards of bandages Chopper had wrapped around him as if they could hold his broken body together. The sound of the weights was faint over the hiss of the spray as Sunny carved through the sea but Luffy could count. He knew there were more there than had been a week ago. And more was the last thing Zoro needed but no one could tell the swordsman that. Pride was at stake and Luffy, now that Zoro had been up for two days, had lost his chance to exert what little authority he had. Perhaps if he asked…but he didn’t know if he could bear to see what would cross Zoro’s face, what he would do if the swordsman refused.
Beyond watching Zoro forcing his body, the worst part was that no one was talking. The whole matter had something to do with him. Luffy was not blind and he felt the looks. Zoro’s eyes were on him as much as his were on Zoro’s. And Sanji, Robin, and Brook, they all knew something. They kept staring at him, at Zoro, and his nakama just didn’t get how easy they were to read. Whatever happened to Zoro, it had happened because of him. He could tell that much. But no one was talking and the last thing Luffy would do was force the issue. The last time he’d tried anything of the sort, he’d lost his temper and he’d had his awful fight with Usopp. It was one mistake he would not repeat.
Whatever had happened, Zoro was alive, all of his nakama were alive, and they were still moving forward, still following their dreams. Ultimately, Luffy decided, that was what really mattered. He had Zoro to be grateful to for that, it seemed, and for many other things. The swordsman kept taking weight onto himself, burdens that Luffy hadn’t even known he should have been carrying, and it was something to consider. Being a captain did mean knowing his limitations and getting the right sort of help but Zoro was probably stealing away more than his fair share. It was noble of him but he had to stop. They all had growing up to do and if Zoro kept protecting him from parts of the life he’d chosen, he wouldn’t learn what he needed. Still, he knew well, as he watched fresh blood stain white bandages, how hard it could be to let someone suffer, to fight a battle alone. And there were some benefits to being a captain.
Luffy hopped off the figurehead, glad to be out of the uncomfortable slouch and his mind made up. He could wait patiently for an explanation that may never come but he could also take action. Zoro had finally stopped watching him, eyes closed against the strain, and he flinched beneath the touch of Luffy’s hand on his shoulder. Those green eyes were tired and questioning and they made something inside of Luffy ache, the same ache he’d felt on and off every time his swordsman shouldered another burden. It was gratitude and respect and maybe something more, a place that scared him for it seemed so deep as to be unfathomable and he wasn’t quite ready to jump in and see if he could float or if he’d sink like a stone in that ocean in his soul.
“Hey,” he said, thumb gently rubbing at the tiny scrap of tan skin not covered by bandages. “Time to take a break.”
And Zoro stared at him, eyes widening before he ducked his head and gruffly said, “Okay.” But he wasn’t fast enough to keep Luffy from catching the hint of a proud smile on his face and it made Luffy grin and throw a none-too-caution arm over Zoro’s broad, battered shoulders.
“C’mon. Let’s go see if we can get Sanji to give us a snack. I’m STARVING!”
And Zoro nodded and let himself be pulled along in Luffy’s wake.
