Chapter Text
It’s Sunday and instead of sleeping the morning away, Zoro is at Nami’s apartment to help her assemble the wardrobe she bought. Though Zoro’s not actually helping, he’s not even doing anything, just slumping on the couch because she already has Sanji and Usopp to do her bidding. Zoro’s not entirely sure why he’s still here anyway.
The wardrobe is huge and has too many hinges and screws, its instruction manual entirely in a different language so they’re having a hard time building it. Zoro laughs at them about it, and Sanji spits a string of curses at him, throwing a screw that Zoro swiftly dodges, and Usopp roars a lecture at Sanji for losing another screw.
Nami comes from the kitchen with a pitcher of orange juice, and Sanji and Usopp finally take a break from the damn wardrobe. Though they actually look like they’re already giving up if Zoro’s being honest, and he can’t help but chuckle again at their suffering.
Sanji shoots him another glare as he drinks his juice. Meanwhile, Usopp groans. “What is Zoro even doing here? He’s not helping us,” he says, already finishing his drink with a slurp.
“Honestly? I have no idea,” Nami says, shaking her head as she sits down next to Zoro. Sanji sits on the other end of the couch while Usopp decides to plop down on the floor. “I specifically said in the group chat to come if you want to help, but he’s here somehow.”
Zoro frowns. “You just said to come. You didn’t say anything about helping or shit.”
Nami rolls her eyes. “I did. Your dumb ass just didn’t read my message properly.”
“Whatever,” Zoro says, clicking his tongue. “What’s the need for the new wardrobe anyway?”
“I went shopping last week for Kaya’s party and I bought too many clothes. They won’t fit in my closet anymore,” Nami answers with a shrug as if that’s entirely normal.
“What the fuck.” Zoro doesn’t get the need for that many clothes, and it seems like he’s the only one since Sanji and Usopp aren’t having the same reaction as his. It’s fucking ridiculous. Do people actually pay attention to what others are wearing every day?
“Speaking of, you should all buy something to wear too,” Nami says. “You can’t wear whatever random clothes you can grab from your closet at the party. There will be a lot of people there—important people so you guys can’t embarrass Kaya.”
“Please, leave me out of that. We all know I have a great fashion sense,” Sanji says smugly.
Usopp scoffs. “Dude, I saw you wearing a neon blue shirt and yellow beach shorts. That whole suit and tie thing isn’t fooling anyone.”
Zoro gives Usopp an approving grin while Sanji rolls his eyes. “Fuck off.”
As usual, Nami ignores them with a shake of her head, sighing. “Anyway, just go out and buy some new clothes. You can rent too, it’s cheaper. Just pick a nice outfit like you did on Luffy’s birthday.”
“Oh, Luffy should be the one hearing this talk,” Usopp says, and the group collectively nods in agreement. He pours himself another drink and gulps it halfway. “What job is he even doing anyway? He’s so busy these days.”
Then the group all turn their heads towards Zoro, and it takes a few moments for him to realize that they’re all looking at him expectantly. He frowns, crossing his arms. “Why are you looking at me? I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Wow, I didn’t think there’s something you don’t know about Luffy,” Nami says, chuckling.
“What do you fucking mean?”
Nami gives him a look as if to say really? But the confusion must’ve remained on Zoro’s face because she eventually sighs. “You’re roommates. You always talk and spend time with each other. You know what’s happening to him and he knows what’s happening to you. It’s like you’re one entity at this point.”
“Or like you two are a married couple,” Usopp supplies as he takes a sip of his juice. Sanji chuckles at that.
“We’re not a married couple—or one entity or whatever the fuck,” Zoro says, his tongue feeling thick and dry somehow. He runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “I always don’t know what’s going on with Luffy. He has a life of his own.”
“Right,” Nami says, her eyebrows raised. Totally unconvinced.
The thing is, Nami isn’t entirely wrong. He does know what’s happening to Luffy, and Luffy knows what’s happening to him. Though these days, Zoro isn’t sure if that still holds true. It’s not often that he sees Luffy when he comes home, and the few times they see each other, their conversation doesn’t last long because Luffy just seems adamant about doing something else. Anything else but speak with him.
Zoro inhales deeply. It’s been gnawing his insides, itchy like a splinter he can't pull out. Maybe that's why he’s here at Nami’s apartment even though he refuses to help. Being alone at their apartment on his day off just makes him feel suffocated, the smell and memory of Luffy lingering at every corner.
Thankfully, Zoro doesn’t have to respond anymore as Usopp changes the subject. “By the way, do you guys have your dates yet?”
“What dates?” Nami asks, raising an eyebrow.
Similar questioning looks must be on Zoro and Sanji’s faces as well because Usopp stares at all of them unimpressed. “For the party, remember?” he reminds them.
“I thought we’re only encouraged. It’s not a requirement,” Zoro says.
Usopp shrugs. “I mean, yeah, you can go alone but where’s the fun in that? Don’t be a party pooper, Zoro.”
“Yeah, don’t be a party pooper, Zoro,” Sanji repeats, grinning mockingly.
“Shut up,” Zoro says with a scoff.
Nami hums, rubbing her chin. “Well, it’d be fun indeed to go with someone, but it’d be too bothersome to find one.”
Sanji smiles stupidly as he turns to Nami with his arms spread. “Look no further, my dear Nami. I’m here.”
Zoro and Usopp gag in unison. To their surprise, however, Nami stares at him for a moment before humming once more, seemingly thinking it over.
“Whoa. You’re really considering it, Nami?” Usopp says, giving her a weird look.
“As I said, it’d be bothersome to find a date. Besides, it’s not like it’d be like a serious, serious date, right? Just a person you’d be going to the party with,” Nami explains with a shrug. She pours herself a drink and takes a sip as if she just didn’t outright say that she’s considering Sanji, out of all people, to be her date.
“Shit. The world must be ending,” Usopp says, his eyebrows raised.
The glare Sanji sends him is sharp and burning as he scoffs. “Fuck off, Usopp. You’re just probably jealous because you’re going to the party alone.”
Usopp tilts his chin up, gives him a smug look as he crosses his arms. “And who says I'm going alone?”
Nami whistles. “You’re going with Kaya?”
“Of course, I’m going with Kaya,” Usopp says, grinning widely, almost giggling. “She appointed me as her official escort.”
Sanji claps a hand on his shoulder, looking definitely proud. “You two finally going somewhere?”
“Yeah. We’re going there,” Usopp answers, his eyes brimming with happiness. His and Kaya’s thing has been going on way before they all even met. At first, Zoro didn’t really get it—doesn’t bother to understand it, but it’s clear as day. The care and fondness and mirth in their eyes, especially Usopp’s when Kaya’s around, and Zoro can’t help but feel glad for his friend too.
“So, Usopp’s going with Kaya. Then I’m going with Nami,” Sanji says to which Nami rolls her eyes, though she doesn’t hide the amused smile pulling the corners of her lips. “How about you, mosshead?”
Zoro sighs, rolling his eyes. “I’m not bothering with all that date bullshit.”
“Man, c’mon! Don’t be like that,” Usopp says. “We’re all going with a date. Even Luffy is bringing a date.”
And the entire apartment plummets into silence so deep a pin drop could probably be heard. Nami almost drops the glass she’s holding while Sanji chokes probably on his own spit as they all stare at Usopp.
“Wait. Did I hear that right?” Nami says slowly as if treading on a minefield. “Luffy is bringing a date?”
“Yeah. He told me the other day.” Usopp then looks at each of their faces, his mouth gaping as he does so, realization dawning on him. “Shit, you guys don’t know?”
“Man, look at us. Do these faces look like we know?” Sanji asks, gesturing at the three of them.
Nami nudges him with an elbow. “Zoro, did you know about this?”
Only then does Zoro realize that he’s been silent the whole time. Feeling his tongue failing him, his throat narrowed and dry, Zoro only shakes his head in response. Nami says something again, and the conversation goes on, but their voices all seem like white noise against his ears.
Luffy suddenly bringing a date to a party is certainly a huge surprise. They all know Luffy—Zoro knows Luffy, and he’s just not the one to bother with this kind of thing. Though Zoro knows in himself that it’s not what’s bothering him. No surprises can make his fingers cold, his chest tight as if he can’t breathe, his stomach somersaulting in a way that makes him all choked up.
He sees Nami looking at him in his peripheral vision, so he clears his throat, shifting in his seat. The topic of the conversation changes into something Zoro doesn’t bother to hear—can’t hear, really, with the way everything else still seems so far away.
As the minutes fly by, however, Zoro remains at that moment. Rooted at that one phrase, Usopp’s voice echoing in his ears over and over again. He tries to quench the dryness of his tongue with some orange juice, but all it does is make his throat itchy and more parched again.
Usopp and Sanji return to Nami’s wardrobe, and they eventually start building it after reading the manual for the nth time. Zoro goes home in the middle of it, not seeing the point in staying anymore when he’s not doing anything.
As he enters the apartment, he finds Luffy waddling from the kitchen with a fresh bowl of what looks to be instant ramen. He runs to the living room, almost spilling the soup, blowing air on his fingers after he sets the bowl down on the table.
Zoro closes the door, the click of it making Luffy’s head turn in his direction. Luffy blinks, the surprise on his face evident. Zoro stares at him for a while, unable to hide his surprise too as he swallows the lump in his throat.
“You’re home early,” he says as he locks the door behind him. It’s only past noon so to see Luffy at the apartment now is a bit…shocking, to say the least. He always seems to be out these days, even on a Sunday.
Luffy nods. “Yep. Mrs. Moony just wanted company at the bakery then she let me go home after that.”
“I see,” Zoro says with a nod. For a moment, he just stands there, looking at Luffy as the man blows air into his ramen. Zoro doesn’t really get why he’s still there; why he’s waiting for something, for anything, but Luffy is already eating, and it’s quite impossible to disturb him when there’s food in front of him.
But Luffy realizes that he hasn’t moved yet, and he pauses midway through a bite to look at Zoro. The soup from his spoon spills back onto the bowl, and Luffy puts the utensil down to pat the couch behind him.
Finally, Zoro feels his feet move. He sits down on the couch while Luffy turns back to his meal, not paying him any attention. Though it’s okay—Zoro’s perfectly fine just being in the same room as him, basking in Luffy’s presence even if he’s not looking at him. At least, Luffy isn’t making random excuses to leave.
Despite the silence, Zoro can’t help but speak as he watches Luffy. “Instant ramen again, huh?”
“I got hungry even though Mrs. Moony gave me bread. I don’t have money left so I went home and tried frying an egg but it got burned,” Luffy says, giggling sheepishly.
Zoro looks back at the kitchen and sees the pile of pans and dishes on the sink. When he sniffs with concentration, there is indeed a faint burnt smell in the air. There’s no doubt about it. Luffy would really burn the apartment if he was on his own. Not like Zoro would ever leave—it shouldn’t be a worry to him at all.
“You should’ve told me. I could’ve gone home and cooked you something,” Zoro says.
Luffy pauses but doesn’t turn to look at him. Nevertheless, Zoro can see him nibble his lip, eyes gazing everywhere even though he’s not facing Zoro, taking a little too long to respond. “I don’t want to disturb you. It’s your day off.”
“When did that ever stop you?” Zoro says, humming. “Do you want to eat out instead? My treat.”
Another pause before Luffy replies, “I can pay for myself.”
“You literally just said you don’t have money.”
“You don’t always have to treat me, Zoro,” Luffy says. And there’s something about his tone that makes Zoro halt. Sulky and there seems to be a hint of frustration as well—at what, Zoro has no clue. Luffy doesn’t seem to mind whenever Zoro pays for his meals before. In fact, he quite likes it.
He decides not to answer. Besides, Luffy has already moved on as he starts to devour his ramen again. Zoro can only watch the back of his head, his curls that turn a shade lighter when it catches the sunlight from the windows, looking too soft even though they’re disheveled, and Zoro’s fingers just itch to run through them.
Though he doesn’t, letting Luffy eat in peace.
Slurping the soup in one go, Luffy finishes his bowl. He stands up and brings it to the sink. Zoro only follows him with his eyes, craning his head to see him better. To his surprise, Luffy is washing the dishes right away.
“I like ramen but I like meat more,” Luffy says, sighing. More to himself than Zoro, really, but Zoro listens anyway. “I really should learn how to cook on my own.”
Zoro raises an eyebrow at that. While Luffy loves anything related to food, he’s never been interested in how to make one. After all, Zoro is always there, Sanji is always there; he’s always surrounded by people who are willing to cook for him. Add the fact that his ability to cook even the simplest dishes is the same as his ability to swim: nonexistent.
Case in point: the burnt fried egg.
For him wanting to learn how to cook now seems odd. Though Zoro shouldn’t be surprised—not when Luffy has been all but odd these past few days. Always out, going home late, barely talking to Zoro, wanting to learn how to cook, even planning to bring a date to a damn party.
Now that Zoro is reminded about the party again, he can’t help but suck his teeth. It catches Luffy’s attention, and he abruptly looks up from the sink, almost dropping a plate.
“Zoro, is everything okay?” he asks, curiosity emanating from his tone. Though if Zoro listens closely, the concern is still present there. Hasn’t even diminished one bit.
It makes Zoro relieved, if only for a moment. Because none of this erases everything strange that has happened. This doesn’t erase the fact that Luffy is clearly avoiding him; the fact that Luffy is bringing someone else as his date to Kaya’s party. The fact that he’s bringing someone at all.
Zoro knows him. Well enough to be eligible as Luffy’s best friend, and this just doesn’t make sense. Besides, Zoro knows. Has heard it from Luffy’s own lips. Has felt it from the way he looks, the way he moves, and it doesn’t quite add up.
He swallows as he feels his throat become dry again, sharp thorns growing from his windpipe. Luffy is still looking at him, his eyes bright and worried as he waits, gripping a plate, soap suds sliding down his hands. Zoro tries to clear his throat, turning back and looking away.
So many questions rattle in his head, and there’s nothing more he wants than to ask. But Luffy hasn’t said anything—he always says something if he wants Zoro to know. No force can ever stop him from letting his thoughts be heard. If he hasn’t mentioned anything then it’s probably best to leave it at that.
Even then, Zoro still wants to try. Just to see if Luffy somehow just forgot to say it.
“Luffy,” he calls him.
“Yeah?”
Zoro turns his head a little, but not enough to properly see Luffy’s face. He remains a blurred figure in Zoro’s peripheral vision. “You’re going to Kaya’s party?”
“Of course. Kaya’s our friend. We all should be there,” Luffy answers, the shrug evident in his voice.
Then Zoro waits. But Luffy doesn’t say anything else, going back to the dishes now that Zoro seems to be fine. He almost breaks a plate or two, but he does manage to wash everything and clean the kitchen, albeit quite haphazardly.
At that point, Zoro knows that Luffy is not going to say anything more. It’s definitely on purpose. And that only makes everything worse. Everything seems to collapse, the tightness in Zoro’s chest stinging like a cut from a blade, his throat constricting to the point that it’s getting a little harder to breathe.
Luffy comes back to the living room, and Zoro has to pretend that his mind isn’t flooded with thoughts and questions. There’s a brief moment where Luffy pauses, his gaze flitting back and forth between Zoro and the door to his room. If the past few days are anything to go by, it’s obvious what Luffy would do, and Zoro prepares for it.
Surprisingly, Luffy sits down on the couch. He’s on the other end, quite far away from Zoro, but he’s here. He’s staying, for now. Zoro’s chest feels lighter somehow, and he shifts in his seat to get a proper look at Luffy.
He’s biting his lip, deep in thought. Zoro wants to know what he’s thinking about—wants to know what’s troubling him this time, and normally Zoro would just ask; normally, Luffy would just answer. But things aren’t the way they are. Zoro’s words are jumbled, no sound coming out of his mouth. Luffy doesn’t want to tell him things now, and it only makes Zoro feel like he has no right to ask.
“Are you?” Luffy suddenly says after a moment’s silence. His voice is soft and low, almost inaudible, but Zoro hears him loud and clear.
“Hm?” Zoro asks, a bit confused.
Luffy doesn’t meet his eyes. “Are you going to Kaya’s party too?”
“Yeah. Of course,” Zoro answers, though he finds that it sounds too forced. His answer definitely doesn't match what he feels.
“Okay,” Luffy says with a nod.
Their conversation is at an end, and at any moment, Zoro knows that Luffy will get up and leave. So he grasps at the last straws, refusing to let go just yet. He’s not sure when he will be able to spend time like this again with Luffy.
“Want to watch a movie?” he asks.
For a moment, Luffy only blinks at him. Then he ponders over the question, and Zoro waits, his heart thrumming too fast in his chest, his fingers growing colder the longer Luffy remains silent. Finally, Luffy looks at him, the answer in his eyes is clear.
“Horror?”
Zoro sighs in relief. If Luffy notices it, then he doesn't say anything about it. “Of course,” Zoro says.
It’s a bit early for a horror movie, but Zoro puts a random one anyway. He returns back to his seat, a small part of him expecting Luffy to scoot towards him, but Luffy stays in his spot on the other end of the couch. Zoro’s heart clenches for some reason, but he supposes that it’s better than not having Luffy here at all.
At least now, they’re in the same room. Luffy is there despite the distance. Luffy is there with him.
The movie turns out to be some crappy B-list with too much dialogue than actual horror action. As he expected, Luffy sleeps fifteen minutes in, shifting down the couch so his head is resting on the arm while his legs are curled up to avoid kicking Zoro.
Before Zoro knows it, he takes Luffy’s ankles and puts them on his lap so his limbs are stretched out. Luffy mumbles something, drowsy with sleepiness, but doesn’t fight it. He goes back to sleep, his slumber turning deep now that he’s in a more comfortable position.
Zoro finishes the movie, but he doesn’t really get what the hell happened. Luffy is still sleeping, and Zoro finds that he doesn’t want to disturb him. Though he must because it’s never comfortable for Luffy to sleep on the couch. The arm is too high for his neck, and the space is just too small. It's only luck that he hasn’t been turning in his sleep.
Gently, Zoro gets out of his seat, putting Luffy’s feet aside. He picks Luffy up in his arms, making sure not to wake him up. He pauses for a moment when Luffy moves his head to the side, and when he deems it safe, he steadily walks to Luffy’s room.
He sets him down on the bed, and Luffy immediately sprawls his limbs as if knowing that the space is bigger. Before Zoro can leave, Luffy stirs, his eyes opening slowly, blinking a few times at Zoro before realization kicks in.
“Thanks for bringing me here, Zoro,” he says.
“Yeah. Sure thing,” Zoro says with a wave of his hand. Luffy looks at him some more as if waiting, and Zoro can’t just stop the words coming out of his mouth. “Want me to stay?”
Luffy seems taken aback by the question, his cheeks flushing a little. He looks away, thinking for a while, but Zoro notices the small frown forming on his forehead. “No,” he answers, still not looking at Zoro, his tone sounding a bit uncertain.
Zoro nods, accepting his response even though he knows differently. Luffy doesn’t look back at him so he finally leaves the room.
When he closes the door, silence rings in his ears, and he has to take a pause, put a hand on the back of the couch because his heart just won’t stop twisting like a rope about to curl on itself.
+ + +
It’s late. Zoro’s late. And frankly, he wants to stay in the apartment all night, but Nami has been calling him nonstop, screaming in his ear for being a douchebag.
Maybe she’s right.
He relents after the fourth call, and now he’s just finished tying his tie. It’s not perfect, but he doesn’t really care anymore. He fixes his hair by running his fingers through it—it makes him realize that he badly needs a haircut, it’s getting long now.
When he comes out of his room, he can’t help but glance at Luffy’s door. He remembers the night of his birthday. The moment he came out of his room after Nami styled him, wearing that colorful suit, his hair slicked and neat, a cute grin pulling his lips as if he was proud.
Zoro had trouble finding his breath back then, and the same thing happens to him now. Though the difference is that, his heart feels like coming up his throat at the moment, knowing that Luffy isn’t there; that he has already left long ago.
Swallowing, Zoro shakes his head and goes down to his pickup. It takes him longer to go to the venue after making a wrong turn, but he eventually does find himself in front of the building. His truck is a little bit out of place from all the fancy cars when he surrenders it to the valet, and Zoro already feels exhausted for the night.
He walks up to the entrance, and the guard somehow recognizes him and allows him to cut through the line so he can enter. Apparently, Kaya has listed all of them as VIPs, and Zoro’s thankful he doesn’t have to spend time standing outside, avoiding the risk of some person trying to chat with him as they wait.
The venue is already brimming with people, and Zoro pauses for a moment to take it all in. A lot of tables are placed throughout the room, drapes and chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, classical music plays in the background, mixing in with the chatter of the people, the lights are bright and a little bit nauseating but Zoro manages.
Catering staff walk around with drinks and those small food that Zoro can’t pronounce the name of. When one passes by him, Zoro immediately grabs a champagne glass and downs it.
“Mosshead!”
He turns and finds Sanji walking towards him with a sneer. Nami is in front of him, already giving Zoro a reprimanding look. Their clothes seem to be coordinated with all the light pink going on, and honestly, it’s a bit jarring to see. Zoro only sighs as they approach him.
“There you are! Where were you?” Nami says with a small frown. Then she looks at the entirety of him and clicks her tongue in disapproval, her hands immediately working on his tie. “You’re so hopeless. I already taught you this.”
Sanji laughs at him, and Zoro rolls his eyes, flipping him off but Nami slaps his hand away, hissing about proper decorum or whatnot. He clicks his tongue, letting Nami fix his hopeless tie instead.
“You already missed the welcoming speech, you know,” Nami says as she finishes, patting the tie neatly.
“Did Kaya already give her speech?” he asks.
“Not yet.”
Zoro shrugs. “Then I haven’t missed much.”
Nami shakes her head with a sigh. “Well, come on. You should at least greet Kaya before more people come in. Usopp’s with her.”
At that, Nami and Sanji lead him further into the room. Nami ensures to hold onto his sleeve so he doesn’t get lost, which is very ridiculous but Zoro allows it because he’s not in the mood to argue. Finally, they find Kaya and Usopp, talking to some old man who’s just about to leave.
Kaya’s wearing a white dress and Usopp’s wearing a suit to match. If Zoro didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought that they were some newlywed couple.
“Zoro! We’ve been waiting for you, man. I thought you got lost!” Usopp says, laughing.
“Shut up,” Zoro tells him. Then he turns to Kaya and congratulates her about the company and the party.
“Thank you so much, Zoro. Feel free to drink as much as you want,” Kaya says with a wink.
Zoro grins at her. “Will definitely do.”
More people approach Kaya and Usopp so they steer clear and move somewhere else. Zoro gets champagne every chance he can get, and Nami gives him another disapproving look. Zoro is older but she’s like the overbearing older sister sometimes.
“Geez. Slow down, will you?” she says.
“What? You heard, Kaya. I can drink as much as I want,” he retorts.
Nami doesn’t have anything to say to that, only rolling her eyes. Honestly, Zoro is the last person they should be worried about when it comes to drinking too much so he doesn’t get what’s the fuss about.
He sips his drink in silence and observes the room once more. It’s been a few minutes now, and usually, by this time, he should’ve spotted Luffy. Or Luffy should’ve done something that would catch everyone’s attention. Though so far, everything seems to be in order—no man is speaking more loudly than he should be, no one’s running around, Zoro can’t even see a messy mop of curls.
Taking another sip, he doesn’t realize that Nami and Sanji are side-eyeing him. “Looking for Luffy?” Sanji asks, and there’s a smirk on his face that Zoro very much wants to rip off.
The thing is, Zoro can’t even bring himself to deny it. Why even bother if it’s that obvious? Besides, it’s not illegal to look for Luffy. Zoro has seen all his friends except for him. It’s only natural to be curious about his whereabouts especially since Luffy has the knack for being the center of attention without even meaning to.
Nami watches him with curious eyes, though she doesn’t say anything. It’s a small moment that Zoro appreciates. Sanji, on the other hand, can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. That or he just enjoys irritating the hell out of Zoro.
“Luffy’s there. Near the food,” Sanji says, nodding at the other side of the room.
He’s not going to look, Zoro swears he’s not going to, but at the first mention of Luffy’s name, his head is already whipping in the general direction Sanji gestured to. He doesn’t see Luffy, and maybe Sanji is just shitting on him like always—he’s ready to scoff at the blond—but then Sanji pushes his temple, making him face a whole different direction.
And there he is. There’s not even a question about it. Zoro’s eyes zero on that familiar figure right away. Luffy is wearing a suit, one that hugs his lean frame perfectly, and a dark red button-down with a black tie to complete the outfit. It’s not as extravagant as what he wore on his birthday—this one is more like him, simple but striking, his hair remaining wild, but still so, so soft looking even from far away.
He’s surrounded by a small crowd, and it’s no surprise, really. He probably just acted like himself and those people got pulled in by his charm before they even knew it. There’s a huge smile on his face, his dark eyes already shining under the bright lights. Zoro finds himself taking a shaky breath, his grip on his champagne glass tightening.
Setting his drink down on the table, Zoro readies himself to cross the room. But before he can even take the first step, someone steps beside Luffy—a lanky man who seems to be too nervous, constantly shifting behind him, glancing warily at the people around them.
Zoro abruptly stops as he sees the huge circular glasses and the shockingly light pink hair. The name comes to him too fast, Luffy’s voice ringing in his head, laced with astonishment as it was that night when he told Zoro about the guy.
Koby. Luffy brought that Koby guy as his date.
He swallows, his throat already drying despite drinking not longer than a minute ago. His hands feel cold and numb somehow, and it’s probably a good thing he’s no longer holding his drink.
Luffy laughs again, and despite the distance, Zoro seems to hear it. As if Luffy is just right beside him. But the reality is, Luffy is still on the other side, surrounded by these people whose names he won’t probably remember; he’s there with some guy he just met not too long ago as his date.
Hearing it from Usopp is one thing, seeing it for himself is different. Everything sinks in immediately, free-falling at a maximum speed, and Zoro can’t even do anything to slow it down one bit. The reality just slams into him like a fucking a freight train.
“Zoro,” he hears Nami calling him, but she sounds so far away. Zoro can’t tear his gaze away, can’t even feel his own breathing.
Then as if Luffy senses him, Luffy’s eyes meet his, his smile faltering immediately. Everything seems to slow down, the music and chatter fading away as if they’re the only ones remaining in the party. It’s as if there’s only the two of them in the vast room, separated by the distance that seems to get bigger and bigger the longer they stare at each other.
Luffy’s the one who breaks first. He blinks, looking away before looking back again. Then he raises his hand to wave, his lips pulling into a small smile, and Zoro can see the hesitation in his movement, the tips of his ear flushing red. It’s like he’s been caught doing something that he shouldn’t be doing.
Zoro wants to wave back, but his hand remains frozen at his side. He tries to smile then, but he finds that he can’t do that either. So he just stares at Luffy, and Luffy stares back—and despite being far away from him, Zoro knows that his smile isn’t the same as it usually is.
A familiar moment flashes in his head. Not of a memory, but of a dream. Almost like a nightmare. And Zoro can’t prevent the cold shiver that runs down his spine.
Blinking, Luffy realizes that Zoro’s not going to respond, his lips pulling back into a line, his hand slowly coming down. Zoro feels his breath hitch, his chest just becoming heavier by the minute, and he wants badly to cross the room. He’s not even sure what he’s going to do, what he’s supposed to do, but he just wants to see Luffy up close.
He doesn’t get to do that as microphone feedback cuts into the air, making everyone flinch, the classical music in the background fading away. When Zoro turns back to Luffy, he finds that Luffy is no longer looking at him, and he’s facing the stage instead.
With a sigh, Zoro begrudgingly looks at the stage too, though not before he sees Nami and Sanji looking at him. There’s something in their eyes that Zoro doesn’t bother to dwell into. He doesn’t need any shit from them. Not right now.
An old man goes to the center of the stage and introduces Kaya. Zoro claps along when she emerges, smiling and waving at everyone. She’s holding a mic, and her voice rings in the whole room when she speaks.
“Good evening, everyone,” she says once the clapping subsides. She takes a deep breath, her eyes going over the audience as if she’s looking for something. Or rather someone, her lips stretching into a smile when she finally spots Usopp near the front, who gives her an encouraging nod. “I thank you all for being here with us. This is truly a momentous night, not only for me, but also for everyone who’s been working hard to keep this company flourishing.”
Her voice grows more confident as she continues. But her words get drowned out in Zoro’s ears as his eyes find their way back to where Luffy is again.
Surprisingly, he seems to be listening intently to Kaya’s speech. Though he’s munching on food as he does so, which Zoro didn’t even notice earlier. Very typical of Luffy. It’s a bit funny to see him trying to clap when he has crumbling food in both of his hands.
It almost feels peaceful just to watch him like this. Though that peace doesn’t even last a second as the guy—Koby—says something into Luffy’s ear. Luffy turns away from the stage to pay him attention, and they whisper among themselves for a while, earning a few frowns from the people nearby. When Luffy breaks into a grin, Zoro feels something hard lodging in his throat.
Fortunately, Kaya finally ends her speech, thanking the guests once more, and the audience erupts in another applause. Zoro claps as well, but the sound of it is muted against his ears.
The center of the room gets cleared as people make space for what Zoro realizes to be the dancefloor. And as if on cue, music plays again, but it’s no longer the mellow melody of instruments and instead, a song with a steady rhythm reverberates in the room. People are instantly back in the center, their bodies popping and swaying to the beat.
Not much of a dancer, Zoro sighs and gives way to other people going to the dancefloor. Nami even joins in, her face breaking into a wide smile, and of course, Sanji follows as well. Usopp is already there, flexing his so-called cool moves to Kaya, who’s giggling but also dancing along.
Zoro is unable to help himself. He turns back to where Luffy is again—or at least, where he’s supposed to be because there’s no one standing there anymore. He looks around the room, his gaze weaving through the bodies until he finally spots Luffy’s dark curls bouncing to the beat.
He’s already dancing, and Zoro may not be an expert but he knows Luffy isn’t really any better than Usopp. Despite that, Zoro can’t take his eyes off him, entranced somehow with how weirdly flexible Luffy’s arms are when he does a wave, his smile rivaling the twinkle of the lights.
It’s not every day that they attend a party like this so it’s a bit rare for Zoro to see Luffy dancing around. He’s having fun—it’s probably the happiest he’s been since his birthday, maybe even more—and Zoro finds himself having fun too although he’s not doing anything at all.
But that joy dissipates quickly as he realizes that Luffy isn’t dancing by himself. Koby is there with him too, but the guy is just nodding his head along to the song, his body swaying in a very awkward way. Luffy doesn’t mind, of course, he doesn’t. It only encourages him to make Koby move, even grabbing both of his hands in an attempt to make him jump around.
The smile on Zoro’s face falls. It’s stupid, it’s absurd. Luffy’s just having fun and yet, he feels this bitter acid boiling in the deep pit of his stomach. He should be happy too, right? Luffy definitely deserves this. Happiness suits him better than anyone else.
Still, Zoro can’t fight the ugly urge that grows within him. The thought that all of this is somehow wrong. And it only becomes bigger, tainting his insides, when Koby finally sheds the nervousness in his limbs, laughing as he and Luffy jump together, their heads so close that if someone bumps into them, their faces would be smashed against each other.
It suddenly feels too much. Something in Zoro’s chest keeps twisting. Like a barbed wire that only keeps getting more convoluted and sharper. He sucks a breath through his teeth, forcing himself to turn away.
He takes two more champagne glasses from the first server he sees, downing them one after the other. Though it’s too sweet, too mild, and he needs something stronger—something that gives a good burn down his throat. He asks the man if they serve any drink of the sort, but he only gets a shake of his head.
Zoro sighs and decides to get out of the area instead, pushing his way past the guests. The venue seems to get a little smaller as the late incomers enter, and Zoro has to keep taking calculated breaths to relax himself.
Finally, he bursts out of a balcony, sighing heavily as the night air hits his skin. He rests his hands on the railing, head hanging between his shoulders as he wills the bitter feeling crawling up his throat. It burns a bit, he realizes, and not even in the way good alcohol does.
He hears the clicking of shoes behind him. Turning around, he’s surprised to see Nami standing there, her arms crossed, and definitely no Sanji by her side. Zoro clears his throat, straightening up, and raises an eyebrow at her.
“What are you doing here? Thought you were dancing with shitty cook?”
Nami rolls her eyes. “He’s now talking to some bigshot chefs over there. Can’t understand what they’re talking about so I thought I should take the time to check up on you.”
“Check up on me?” Zoro asks with a frown.
“Yeah,” says Nami, shrugging. She walks up next to him and leans her elbows against the railing. “You look like you’re not enjoying this party at all.”
Zoro fights the urge to scoff at that. To say that he’s not enjoying the party is an understatement—it’s a fact now that he can no longer deny even if he tried. However, being seen like this, so painfully obvious, is still quite annoying.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he bites out.
“Sure,” Nami says but her tone says differently. “I mean, everything’s just fine, right? It’s a great party. Everyone’s having fun. Luffy is definitely having fun—especially with his date.”
It’s a bait, Zoro knows it is. The best course of action in a situation like this is to not give a reaction. Pretend he didn’t hear shit. Pretend that his chest isn’t twisting again at the mere mention of it. But Zoro can’t help himself. Whenever it comes to Luffy, his thoughts become secondary to his actions most of the time.
A frown contorts his face before he knows it, and Nami studies him for a while. Zoro keeps his head straight, looking at the quiet garden over the balcony, hoping that she won’t find what it is she’s looking for. Though it’s fruitless because if anything, it’s Nami who knows him best after Luffy.
She sighs, turning to look at the garden as well. “You know, I thought you two would go to this party together.”
Zoro stays silent for a moment, his tongue going dry. When he manages to speak, his voice seems hoarse to his own ears. “Because we’re roommates?”
“What? No,” Nami says, scoffing.
“I mean, you always say that. Wherever he goes, I go,” Zoro replies.
“Well, it’s true, you know? But it’s not really because you two are roommates.”
“Really?” Even Zoro is surprised by the genuineness of his own tone.
“Oh, you’re so hopeless,” Nami mutters under her breath, shaking her head a little. She takes a deep inhale as if preparing for something, and Zoro waits for it. “You know, I shouldn’t be the one telling this, but you’re a dumbass and you need everything to be spelled out for you but—well…”
“Just spit it out, Nami,” Zoro says.
Nami clears her throat, shifting on her feet. “Fine. It’s just—Luffy likes you. And not in a friend type of way.”
He doesn’t say anything, the night exploding into silence. Nami’s voice echoes like a whisper in his ears, her words passing through him over and over again until they fade into a deafening white noise.
The thing is, however, Zoro doesn’t give any reaction.
Not because he doesn’t care but because he already knows.
Five years ago, during a warm night on a balcony just like this, with a different person by his side, smile bright and expectant, the same words were said to him.
“No questions? No retorts about what the hell I’m talking about?” Nami asks, raising an eyebrow at him. She stares at him for a moment, and Zoro still doesn’t look at her—delaying the inevitable as much as possible but Nami’s quick. The frown on her face disappears, her jaw drops, and she looks at him wide-eyed. “Shit. Did you know, Zoro? Did you fucking know?”
It’s a simple question. Just a yes or no would do, but somehow, Zoro can’t bring himself to mutter a single word. Everything gets stuck in his throat, and he tries to swallow it but it’s futile. He sucks a breath through his teeth and slowly, the words come out, albeit strained. Sounding almost nothing like him. “Y-Yeah…Luffy told me.”
“When?” Nami demands. There’s a fiery look in her eyes as if she’s cursing Zoro in her head—she probably is, he won’t be surprised.
Zoro takes another deep breath but it doesn’t alleviate the heaviness in his chest. It only makes it worse, and his grip on the railing turns tight, his knuckles becoming white. “When you moved out of the apartment,” he answers.
“What the fuck—it’s been that long? What happened? What did you do?” Nami all but screeches at him.
He wants to say that nothing happened. That he didn’t do anything. Except he did do something that night, didn’t he? Luffy leaned in, and he stepped back. He pulled away because he didn’t feel the same.
Though, as he stands now on this balcony, the music from the party faint behind him, the thought of a certain person dancing with someone else festering in his brain, he’s not sure anymore if that’s still true—if he still doesn’t or didn’t feel the same.
He doesn’t answer Nami’s question, but he doesn’t really need to. The silence is enough for her.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” she says.
Maybe so. It’s all confusing. The thing about Luffy is that things just happen the way they do. No explanation, no complication. Their friendship is built upon that—a whim of whatever greater forces there are in the universe. A shared understanding that none of them can put into words. It’s all very simple.
But that night, those three words turned Zoro’s world upside down. Every complication there is just screamed at his face even if Luffy said it so directly. Straightforward as he always is. As if telling Zoro what he feels about him is that easy.
Uncomplicated.
It was way too gentle coming from his lips, but the gravity of it slammed into Zoro like a truck at full speed. Too light and too heavy all at once. Zoro couldn’t bear it. Not at that time when his life only just gotten back on track.
“Do you know why I moved away?” Nami asks.
He almost snorts at the sudden question. “Aside from getting tired of living with us?”
She rolls her eyes, scoffing. “Yeah, idiot, aside from that.”
Zoro shrugs. He didn’t really bother to think about Nami’s moving out back then. All he knew was that she had been complaining about how terrible roommates he and Luffy were so Zoro had assumed it was the reason she sought an apartment for herself.
“I felt a little bit out of place,” Nami says, chuckling, and Zoro pauses, taken aback by her sudden answer. He takes a look at her but her gaze remains ahead, at the dark sky of the night. “Not in a friend kind of sense. We’re all good friends. It’s just…I always felt like a third wheel, if you know what I mean. Then I figured that maybe, it’s time for you guys to be together alone. Get your shit together. But I forgot to consider that you two are dumbasses and of course, nothing really went anywhere.”
Nami lets out an exasperated sigh. “But you know, for a long time, I actually thought you two had figured things out. I mean, with how you and Luffy act around each other—especially you—it really looks like you guys are together. And it’s not just me. Haven’t you noticed? Every person you meet thinks you and Luffy are together.”
That doesn’t mean anything, Zoro wants to say, but he knows in himself that it would be a lie. If everyone else seems to think so, then that’s something, isn’t it? It’s an undeniable truth that no one can deny. In fact, it’s a truth that has been sitting in his heart for a long time, but Zoro is never one to dwell in that kind of matter.
Or so he thought. Because this ache in his chest wouldn’t even exist if that were truly the case.
Zoro remains silent. He doesn’t really know what to say at this point.
“But well, obviously you guys aren’t together. Because Luffy brought a date to this party and you’re out here moping all by yourself,” Nami says, and Zoro can see her rolling her eyes even if he doesn’t look.
“I’m not moping,” he says, though the words sound flat to his ears.
“Sure. And your hair isn’t green either.”
He doesn’t respond, not really finding it in himself to come up with a retort.
With his silence, Nami sighs again and continues, “It’s been years, Zoro. I think…I think what you were feeling back then isn’t the same as now. To be honest, it seems like it hasn’t been the same for a long time. You just don’t see it. Or maybe you refuse to. I don’t know. Just let me tell you this.”
She takes a brief pause to think her words over. Then she speaks again, her voice firm, yet soft as if she’s trying to lay it out as gently as she can. Which is admittedly odd coming from her who always says her truth with a sharp tongue, never holding back. “You can try to lie to yourself all you want, but your body doesn’t do that. Your actions definitely don’t. It’s not just in your nature. You’ve been expressing what you feel for years now, and we all see it. And you know what? Luffy does too—he’s not dumb. Of course, he sees it too. And just think how confusing this may all seem to him if you still stand by what you felt back then while you keep acting like that.”
At that moment, Zoro can only think of Luffy’s face during that night. The look that Zoro can never forget—his smile faltering, the brightness in his eyes dimming, then smiling widely again as he tried to cover it all up, but it was fruitless because Zoro had already seen it. The sight of it had already been etched in the back of his mind, always haunting him in the middle of the night.
He licks his drying lips and closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath. He tries to get rid of the image out of his head, but it doesn’t work. It only makes him feel like his chest is about to collapse on itself.
“I know you’re never good at this feeling shit, Zoro. And I know you’re not the brightest either,” Nami says, and there’s pity in her voice that Zoro can’t even bring himself to be angry at. “But you’re good at things that involve Luffy. Even if he didn’t tell you, then you would have noticed it. You must know how he feels about all of this—how intense it is for him to even bring a date to this party. I don’t know why you keep pushing it all away when it all should be clear to you.”
The words weigh in his head for a while. He goes through them again like flipping through a book, but none of the words register, the letters becoming an indecipherable mess in his mind. The night has become colder, and it stings a little when he inhales deeply.
”Luffy’s the first friend I made after…after Kuina,” Zoro says, his voice barely coming out, almost cracking at the edges. He has never directly told Nami about Kuina, but he figures that she knows anyway. She always does.
“I know,” Nami says, and her tone tells that she truly understands even with all the unsaid words. “But with the way things are looking, there’s a chance that you may lose him too.”
And there goes her sharp tongue.
He finally opens his eyes again as that sentence settles deep into his stomach, the bubbling pit of acid churning as if everything is about to burst at any given moment. He can’t even bear to think of that possibility, his fingers growing cold and numb. Despises how Nami can even suggest a thing.
Still, there’s something inside him that recognizes the tinge of truth in what Nami said. It’s unpleasant, offensive even, but it’s the truth nonetheless. A truth that shouldn’t turn into a reality. Never.
Zoro feels like he’s going to be sick the more his mind tries to get rid of the thought. It grows, slowly wrapping around his head, his neck, his limbs. Whatever he does, it’s the only thing that his brain can register. There’s nothing in the void but that thought.
“I think I’ve said enough. Just try to think about it, Zoro. Figure out your own shit,” Nami says. She doesn’t wait for him to respond, already turning to go back inside.
Alone with the silence, Zoro finds that the balcony is no longer as comforting as it was a few minutes ago. The isolation feels suffocating somehow. It’s as if the balcony is getting smaller and smaller. It would be very easy to blame Nami for all of this, but he can’t bring himself to do that.
Not when the truth stirs inside him, restless and always eager to remind him.
Eventually, Zoro decides to go back inside. If he’s going to spend the entire evening at this party, it might as well be with a glass of champagne in his hand.
However, it’s not a server or even the bar that Zoro’s gaze first set to. Instead, among the ever-growing crowd, his eyes manage to find Luffy. Surprisingly, he’s alone—the Koby guy no longer hanging around—and he’s now standing near a table at the edge of the dancefloor, sipping an orange juice as he watches people dance.
Zoro wonders for a moment why he’s no longer dancing, but then he realizes that the music is different now. It’s softer, slower, more string instruments again rather than beats of a percussion. The people aren’t jumping up and down anymore, they’re not popping to the music; instead, they have paired up, swaying slowly to the tune.
Luffy continues to watch the crowd, and Zoro sees something in his eyes. Apart from curiosity, there seems to be some kind of sadness as well even though his lips are pulled at the corners. Zoro’s not proud to recognize it as longing. It’s a look he’s seen many times before, directed at him, and the sight of it still brings the same effect to him. Throat dry and constricting.
The song ends, fading for a moment before picking up again on another instrumental piece. Some people leave, their smiles lingering, some remain to continue their dancing, while more finally have gained the courage to join in. The space on the dancefloor gets smaller, and while Luffy is still by himself, Zoro moves before he even knows it.
Within a few strides, he finds himself in front of Luffy. It surprises him, unsure of what he’s doing anymore, and Luffy is definitely surprised too, his eyes widening and his jaw dropping a little. Zoro feels the rush of heat on his cheeks, but he can’t turn away now. Not when Luffy is looking at him expectantly.
Zoro shifts his weight between his feet, clearing his throat. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt like this, unable to even hold a gaze as if he’s some kid.
“Hey,” he says, and it sounds so lame in his ears.
Luffy doesn’t seem to mind, giving him a small smile. “Hey, Zoro.”
Silence stretches between them as they look at each other. The vast room is cold but Zoro can’t feel it, the air from the vents seemingly not reaching him. There’s something in Luffy’s eyes that he can’t quite decipher; it’s always been easy for him to read Luffy but now he can’t, and it makes his nails bury into the palm of his hand, his molars pressing against each other too hard.
“Dance with me?” he finds himself asking. The music continues to play out, people pairing up and swaying to the soft tune around them, flowy and in sync, in contrast to the mirroring stillness and rigidness of their bodies.
“You dance?” The frown on Luffy’s face is more out of surprise. Zoro can’t help the dry chuckle coming out of him, his neck heating up further under Luffy’s curious stare.
“Of course, I do,” Zoro answers. It wouldn’t be that hard, right? The people around them seem to be doing it effortlessly. As long as he and Luffy don’t trip on their feet then they should be fine. “Now, do you want to dance with me or not?”
The hesitation still doesn’t leave Luffy’s face as he bites his lip. “But the song is slow…”
“I know.” Zoro holds out his hand, and Luffy looks at it for a while. He fights the jitter in his hand, the moment stretching longer than he likes. As he starts to think how bad an idea it is, how Luffy would definitely say no, Luffy slips his hand in his.
The uncomfortable heat in Zoro’s body dissipates, replaced by a tender warmth that goes right to his chest.
“Okay,” Luffy says, not looking at his eyes.
“Okay,” Zoro repeats with a swallow.
Careful not to bump into other people, Zoro leads Luffy to the center of the dance floor, his hand feeling like it’s holding the sun the entire time. He looks around and copies the people around them. He takes both of Luffy’s hands and slowly, he puts them around his shoulders.
He waits for a moment, watches the confusion swim in Luffy’s eyes, but Luffy doesn’t move to pull away. He shifts closer so his hand is more comfortable on Zoro’s shoulders, and Zoro sees how his cheeks are flushed crimson, almost matching the shade of his button-down.
With trembling hands, Zoro slowly inches his hands forward. Luffy doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, only looking at him patiently as his hands finally find their way to Luffy’s waist.
There’s a sharp intake of breath coming from both of them, and Zoro pauses. His palms are starting to sweat and he makes sure he’s not holding onto Luffy too tightly as he adjusts his grip. He clears his throat, stepping in closer, the air between them getting a little too thin. A little too humid.
Being close to Luffy isn’t new, but it feels like it at the moment. Like Zoro hasn’t slept with him in the same bed, like they haven’t hugged, like they haven’t memorized each other’s movement, like they haven’t been side by side for the past six years. It’s strange how the past few weeks have affected everything.
Zoro leads the first move, stepping slightly to his right, and Luffy almost trips but Zoro holds him securely, bringing him back on his feet. It’s a bit awkward, Zoro’s not going to lie. None of them have done this before—Luffy does a different kind of dancing; Zoro doesn’t even dance. But Zoro manages after a while, and they eventually fall into a slow steady rhythm.
Luffy isn’t looking at him, seemingly finding his chin more interesting instead. Although it’s quite bothering Zoro, he’s more than grateful to have Luffy right here with him, in his arms, so he doesn’t comment about it.
The song continues on, and a couple almost crashes into them so Zoro sweeps them in a different direction. Luffy lets out a soft yelp in surprise, but his hold on Zoro’s shoulders remains.
“Your suit looks nice,” Zoro suddenly finds himself saying as they carry on dancing. There are a million things his mind wants to say, though perhaps he’d settle for this for now.
“O-Oh. Thanks. I rented it,” Luffy replies, smiling but still not looking at him. “Your suit is nice too.”
“Thanks. I rented it too.”
The silence that follows is too loud but neither of them acknowledge it. Luffy steps on Zoro’s foot, immediately trying to pull away to apologize, but Zoro doesn’t budge. Instead, he just gives Luffy a reassuring smile, shaking his head.
“It’s okay. Doesn’t hurt,” he says. It really doesn’t. He didn’t even feel it.
“You sure you okay?” Luffy asks, his brown eyes studying his face, bright with the reflection of the lights.
“Yeah.” Zoro feels his throat narrow again, but the words are all but begging to be let out. He inhales, readying himself, swaying to the left to avoid another couple bumping into them. “Are we?”
Luffy perks up, blinking at him. “What do you mean ‘are we’?”
Zoro licks his dried lips. “Are we okay?”
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Luffy says, but he’s not looking at Zoro.
Why wouldn’t they be indeed?
It would be so easy to dismiss things and say that. Pretend that everything is normal. But nothing really is, these days, and Zoro’s too frustrated to act otherwise. This is not how the two of them are. This is not how Luffy is to him.
Because you won’t look at me. You’re avoiding me. You’re not with me.
Because your eyes aren’t as bright as they supposed to be, and my heart is clenching too tightly.
“Are we okay, Luffy?” he asks again, not satisfied until he gets a proper answer. His knees feel weak for some reason, his hold on Luffy’s waist becoming too light as if Luffy is disappearing, passing through his fingers, the warmth fading into the void.
There’s a look in Luffy’s eyes, full of sorrow and something else, the corners of his lips turning downwards, and there’s nothing more Zoro wants than to take it all away. He hates seeing Luffy like this.
But Zoro knows. He knows that he’s the reason why Luffy looks like this—why he feels this way in the first place. Everything has been Zoro’s fault, but his limbs remain petrified, his tongue unmoving despite the words clawing up his throat.
“Zoro, I—” Luffy stops himself, forehead creasing as he tears his gaze away again.
“Luffy…”
Zoro feels it, his breath hitching sharply. He feels the way Luffy’s hands pull away from him, agonizingly slow, like the world has stopped time. Like nothing matters but this very moment between them. Though he can’t do anything but watch as Luffy steps back, giving him a smile that doesn’t even reach his eyes.
A memory flashes in Zoro’s head, but it’s different. It wasn’t Luffy who pulled away—it was him. It has always been him. But now, it’s not, and Zoro feels his heart dropping to his stomach, eaten and rotten away by all the acid and bile that pools in the pit.
He tries to reach out, but his hands are suspended in the air, grasping nothing.
“Thanks for the dance, Zoro,” Luffy says, voice soft and broken, and he turns to leave before Zoro can even respond.
Alone in the middle of the dancefloor, only then does Zoro realize that the music has stopped and that the crowd is dispersing. He drops his hands, clenches them by his sides, but he can’t even feel his nails prickling his skin.
He looks at the crowd, but he can’t see Luffy anymore. Luffy is gone, and he is all alone.