Chapter Text
Zoro didn’t like to admit it, but he thought that Sanji was a better person than him.
Deep down, there was something so fundamentally good about the other man that the swordsman couldn’t help but notice how he paled in comparison.
He had never been particularly skilled at caring about others—not like the Idiot-cook who had made it his life’s calling to take care of pretty much everyone besides himself. (That damn chimney, always smoking-out his own lungs—a fucking disgusting habit if there ever was one.)
Sanji was rash, rude, abrasive, and tedious at times due to his fiery personality, but he was far from a bad person.
In fact, he was probably Zoro’s favorite person.
They were an inseparable pair—the cook and the swordsman—Blackleg Sanji and Roronoa Zoro. Whatever names they went by, having walked different paths in life, they had eventually been brought together on this crew.
There wasn’t a single soul who knew how close they had really become since Luffy had recruited each of them to join his seafaring adventure, and Zoro was happy to keep it that way. Even though he believed that no good thing could last forever, secrecy certainly helped to maintain the unique relationship they had between them.
If they were ever discovered, the swordsman knew that Sanji would end this shameful affair right then and there—he wouldn’t want his perfect, gentlemanly image to be compromised, after all.
The Straw Hat’s super-suave, ass-kicking heartthrob of a golden-boy would never willingly admit to shagging the second-rate swordsman who showered once a week (since rinsing off in the ocean apparently didn’t count).
That would be utterly scandalous!
Instead, Sanji preferred to be as irritable and argumentative as possible whenever he was around Zoro. It was only when they were truly alone that they could drop the act in its entirety—they started speaking freely and being themselves. Behind closed doors, there was no need to pretend that they didn’t care for each other.
Today had been one of those days where the cook and the swordsman were exhibiting their worst selves—hiding behind the safety of tired insults and grumbled complaints under their breath. Since Nami had asked them (demanded, rather) to “Stop arguing like a married couple and buy the damn supplies!” and the Shitty-cook felt like it was his responsibility to heed her every waking whim, Zoro had ended up playing the role of pack-mule again.
The swordsman was fine with this arrangement because it meant that he got to walk behind the cook and stare at his ass while they shopped.
He was thinking about how the cheeks visibly clenched in excitement as Sanji spotted a lovely, young woman at her booth of exotic wares when, quite suddenly, a bird landed on Zoro’s right shoulder.
It was a smallish type of bird with bright, pure-white feathers, a handsomely curved beak, and an obnoxiously tall golden plume coming out of its head. Zoro was not a stranger to animal behaviour, nor was he especially startled by its appearance, but it did seem rather odd that the bird looked him in the eye, screeched insistently in his ear, and then flew to the top of his head where it hopped in place as though it had something important to personally convey to the green-haired man.
“Oi, Bird-brain? Did you finally find someone on your intellectual level to hang out with?” Sanji called back, laughing hysterically at the sight of the swordsman trudging along behind him, various packages in hand, with the chirping nuisance dancing purposefully on the spot. “I guess that moss looks more like a nest than a human head, Marimo!” he chortled with a patronizing wink.
The cook’s attention was immediately drawn to the island maiden who was now approaching them with hasty steps. Zoro may as well have been a stone statue for all the attention Sanji paid him when a female was in the vicinity.
Not that he was bitter about it (or so he told himself).
The swordsman was used to this sort of behavior by now. He never expected the other man to treat him any better or worse since they starting fucking at every given opportunity—in the dark of the night, behind locked doors, in remote locations on the ship or at out-of-the-way hotels, and generally in near silence.
He still rolled his eyes whenever Sanji broke into his lovestruck monologues, though.
“Why hello, Miss! I do apologize for not perusing your beautiful booth—my crewmate and I were in a bit of a hurry to finish our errands before our ship sets sail this afternoon. Please forgive my rudeness—I’m sure a hard-working lady such as yourself has many valuable items, but alas, we are simply poor pirates stopping for a short layover,” he announced regretfully, and then because she was looking at him with incredible intensity and handing him a small object with the expectation that he would take it, the cook added, “My sincerest apologies, it seems that we already spent the allotted funds on next month’s supplies!”
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she told him in a musical voice, “but please, I made this for you.”
“Oh—for me?” Sanji clarified incredulously, seeming over-the-moon that this random beauty had chosen to single him out for a gift. The girl nodded emphatically, slipping what appeared to be a beaded bracelet onto the cook’s free hand (he was politely holding his lit cigarette away from her face with the other). “My goodness, it’s quite...pretty,” he said politely.
Zoro had refrained from commenting because the bird atop his head ceased its chirping and was now pecking at his scalp, which was more concerning than the stupid-cook’s flirtations, until the young woman looked to the swordsman and said, “Actually, he should get the credit for choosing those beads from a special selection of precious gemstones that I collected on the island.”
“Eh?” Zoro grunted confusedly until he realized that she was talking about the bird. “This annoying animal is yours?” he asked her, receiving a particularly sharp peck. “Ow!”
The girl laughed cutely and adjusted the crown of twigs and flowers on her head before letting out a quick whistle that called the bird back to her. It took off from its perch on the swordsman and made itself comfortable in her hair which was the color of polished mahogany.
“He isn’t mine, really, but I call him Frigg, and he’s my best friend in the world! I found him abandoned as a baby and I've been taking care of him ever since. He also acts as my eyes,” she explained serenely, turning her face back towards Zoro. He got the feeling that she was looking through him rather than at him and realized that the girl was blind.
“You can actually see through that bird?!” the swordsman asked in disbelief, causing Sanji to bristle in agitation at his gruff tone in the presence of a lady. The woman herself simply offered him a kind smile. She took a few steps towards him, training her eyes in the general direction of Zoro’s face.
“I’ve been totally blind ever since I was born, but I acquired a unique sixth sense in my youth. My bond with Frigg makes it easier for me to use that ability,” she explained, reaching out to tie a second bracelet around one of Zoro’s occupied hands without waiting for his permission.
Jewelry wasn’t really the swordsman’s thing—he only wore three gold earrings that held a specific meaning to him—but he thought it would be incredibly rude to refuse her gift, and he didn’t want to piss-off the cook when he was hoping to convince the blond to stop someplace discreet for a quickie before heading back to the ship.
“How interesting! What sort of ability are you able to use, my sweet flower?” the cook inquired with genuine interest.
He was practically falling at the feet of this beautiful girl with her long, flowing hair and dress made out of yellow silks that shimmered when she moved—Zoro thought that she looked like some sort of elf or forest spirit. Her beauty was near-inhuman, and her gaze, though slightly unfocused at times, was quite captivating even to the swordsman who only had eyes for Sanji.
“My name is Cynthia,” she introduced herself with another sweet smile, “and I’m able to see emotional bonds,” she revealed.
“Emotional b-bonds you say? Wh-whatever do you mean by that?!” the cook stammered.
He was starting to become visibly anxious because the beautiful Cynthia had singled out both men by giving them matching bracelets. The cook would never accuse a woman of lying, however, and simply took her word for it. Zoro held in an amused chuckle since laughing in front of Sanji would certainly be the end of his hopes of getting any action tonight.
“Did you eat a Devil Fruit?” the swordsman wondered aloud because the other man had fallen into stunned silence.
Cynthia nodded excitedly. “Exactly! I wandered away from a festival when I was very little and found a mysterious fruit in the forest. After taking a bite, I was able to find my way back to my parents because I could see the love between them like a physical thing—it’s sort of like an aura, or maybe a mist that forms shapes in my mind? I’ve learned a lot about my powers since then, but it can still be difficult to put into words.”
“L-love...?” Sanji parroted, his face paler than the sand beneath their feet.
“It’s been a long time since I saw two people with such an incredibly complex bond between them—it’s unlike any love I’ve ever encountered, so I just had to meet you! I’m very sorry if it’s inconvenient,” Cynthia apologized profusely, seeming to realize that her words were having a negative impact on the blond who simply balked at her, unable to form an intelligent response.
“Um...that’s...probably because, well—it’s just that we—we’re nakama, r-right Zoro?”
“If that’s what you wanna call it,” he said tiredly, not interested in lying to someone who actually saw their relationship for what it was for once. In all honestly, he was sort of glad that a third-party had finally acknowledged what was going on between them since even they barely acknowledged it most of the time.
It wasn’t like Zoro wanted to shout it from the mountaintops or anything cheesy like that. He just thought it would be nice to at least talk about it in private, but Sanji would have none of it. It was painfully ironic that the stranger who was outing them happened to be one of the most lovely, feminine creatures the cook ever laid eyes on.
Ironic and deeply traumatic, apparently.
“I think he’s going catatonic. You should probably just drop the subject,” Zoro told her awkwardly.
“I don’t understand? Did I say something wrong?” she asked desperately. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to—”
“N-no, no, it’s perfectly alright, Cynthia-chan. This is my own baggage to sort through,” Sanji responded, wrenching himself out of his stupor at the sound of her distress. “It’s sort of...complicated.”
“Why do you care, anyway?” Zoro cut in, directing his question at the woman. “It’s none of your business—just because you ate a Devil Fruit doesn’t mean you need to go around analyzing people.”
“Don’t be fucking rude, Marimo! She just gave us gifts!”
“Yeah, gifts we didn’t ask for.”
“...!”
“Don’t worry, Sanji-san, I’m not offended. I know how strange it must be to have someone speak to you this way when we’ve only just met, but I couldn’t stop myself! The colors of your bond—they’re so potent and magnificent in my mind’s eye—I had to ask you about them,” she explained, going on in a rush. “I’m also able to see that there’s something terribly wrong creating a great separation between you. Perhaps it isn’t my place to say this, but I can feel it like an enormous chasm—it’s growing, and it makes me afraid for you.”
“A chasm?” Zoro repeated with minimal understanding. “I still don’t get what this has to do with you. Can’t you just look somewhere else?”
Sanji shot him an angry glare that seemed to say, “Why are you so fucking dense?” which he ignored.
“There’s no need to be so moved on our account, dear Cynthia! I suppose you know who we are,” he guessed from the fact that she referred to him by name despite the cook not returning her introduction, “so it shouldn’t concern you at all—really, Zoro and I are strong. Please don’t feel afraid for us.”
“You don’t understand,” she pleaded, reaching out to take one of the cook’s hands in her own. The stark contrast of his pale skin against the burnished copper of Cynthia’s reminded Zoro of his own tanned hands gripping the blond—something he rarely noticed because Sanji insisted on as much darkness as possible. “I can help repair the chasm—please allow me to try!” the girl begged.
There was a wildness in her features that made them unsure of how to respond to such strong belief. Zoro found that he was curious about the “chasm” Cynthia claimed to sense between them—if this were all hypothetical then why was she so concerned about it growing? What was so terrible about that anyway?
“Everything has its end,” Zoro replied firmly, surprising her. She looked to be about sixteen or seventeen years old, but his words were met with the shocked innocence of a child who had just learned that her own parents would inevitably die.
“Love is everlasting,” she fired back with utter conviction. “There will always be some form of love in this world, but we must also fight to preserve it where we can. I’m truly sorry because this is a selfish request—completely selfish—but if it makes no difference to you whether your bond lasts or is destroyed, will you allow me to at least try using my power to save it?”
“You keep talking about ‘love’ like you know what that even is,” Zoro snapped irritably. “Who says I love anybody?”
He heard Sanji inhale sharply through his teeth but said nothing to confirm or deny his own feelings on the matter.
“You cannot lie to me anymore than you lie to yourself,” Cynthia told him rather forcefully. Frigg the bird also seemed to be watching with an air of superiority as if they both knew something that the pirates didn’t or had access to a wealth of knowledge beyond their depths of understanding. It was quite unnerving.
“I’ll admit I’m struggling to follow what’s happening here,” Sanji cut in after finally collecting his thoughts. “What exactly are you asking to do to us?”
The desperation in Cynthia’s face seemed to melt away in response to his question. “I would only have to use my power once. You wouldn’t feel a thing! I’m not quite sure how it works, but whenever I’ve used it in the past, I was able to bring couples closer together. The effects are unpredictable, but I assure you it’s very safe. Sometimes, there are no obvious changes at all, but the relationships always improved for the better.”
Sanji’s desire to please the lady was visibly conflicting with his pride which demanded that he deny any involvement with the swordsman. “I’m sorry to contradict you, my sweet, but we are definitely not a couple!”
“Even if we were, we wouldn’t need you to fix our problems with Devil Fruit magic,” Zoro added to the cook’s chagrin.
Still, Cynthia was insistent. She turned again to the swordsman with her vaguely defined line of sight, somehow meeting his gaze dead-on. “Your fate will still be your own. All my power does is make things clearer—it might help you learn to communicate better, or to live more comfortably with a bond that cannot be broken—but at the end of the day, you will both make choices that will lead to an uncertain future. I'm humbly asking you to let me steer it towards a happy one.”
She released the cook’s hand to offer them a deep bow, lowering her head as she waited patiently for their answer. Zoro turned to Sanji who looked wretched—clearly it was an unnecessary risk to let this stranger mess with them, but the cook hated turning down a beautiful woman, especially if she was being genuine which even Zoro, who was suspicious of every women’s motive, concluded that she was.
“Whatever,” the swordsman grumbled, setting down the packages he was carrying with a light thump. “I’m getting hungry, Cook. Hurry up and decide already so we can get some grub. I don’t care either way as long as my fate is still my own.”
The strange thing was that Sanji seriously considered it. He didn’t wheedle and whine his way out of the situation with a flourish of apologies and then hustle them back to the ship—he pondered Cynthia’s insane request to “save” their bond—whatever that meant—and came to a decision.
“I suppose there’s no harm in it. You said that it makes things better between people, right? Out of all our crewmates, the two of us could’ve used some psychic therapy even before we started to—well, that’s beside the point—anyway, I can see how much you care, Cynthia-chan. I don’t mind if you give it a try since it’ll make you feel better!”
Zoro rolled his eyes at how the cook was already reverting to his typical simpering way of talking to beautiful women. He wondered if this so-called ability of hers could fix that annoying habit, but he doubted it. In fact, he was second-guessing the entire thing only to realize that it was too late—Cynthia had gently taken hold of each of their hands to connect them in a three-way embrace.
Frigg chirped excitedly as if to emphasize the dramatic moment. Sanji blushed unexpectedly hard since they were standing in the middle of a public beach with various islanders wandering to-and-fro along the coast and roadside. Zoro tried to ignore the strangeness of them all joining hands like they were about to light some incense and sing a song while dancing in a circle. He didn’t feel particularly different when Cynthia smiled in relief and said, “It’s done.”
She released their hands, bowed deeply in gratitude (even Frigg dipped his head from his place nestled in her hairpiece), and promptly returned to her booth. Her bird friend could be seen hopping onto the table where he began consciously pecking at various containers while Cynthia retrieved the desired beads in the same order and threaded them onto a string.
For the first time, Zoro took note of the beads that were selected for his own bracelet—an alternating pattern of yellow ambers and deep-blue sapphires that matched the colors of the cook’s hair and eyes beside a single, rainbow-tinted pearl.
Sanji shoved his hand into his pocket and was looking anywhere but at the swordsman. “Let’s get back to the ship,” he said suddenly, stamping out his cigarette. “I’ll make you something to eat.”
“Onigiri if you’ve got it, Cook.”
“Sure thing, Marimo.”