Chapter Text
"Hey, Zo-ro-?" Luffy's voice sing-songs as he calls for his attention. He's sitting on the tilled floor of a house that now belongs to the world, knees to his chest. His trustworthy baseball bat by his side, smeared with unremovable blood stains, propped against the couch.
"Hmm?" His chest rumbles in reply, tired eyes remain closed.
Technically, it's Zoro's turn to sleep, even if just for a few hours.
"I was thinking..."
"That's dangerous,"
"Asshole!" But he lets out a quiet snicker.
Zoro misses his laugh. Never, not in a million years, did he think it could happen, but Luffy laughs less and less every passing day. Then, there's the unquestionable need to keep silent. Those things - the zombies - are drawn to sound like moths to flames.
That seems to be one of the few things they know for certain.
Zoro sighs, straightening himself where he sits, back to the wall and with his katanas within reach. He hasn't managed to find a comfortable position yet.
"What is it?" his voice laced with curiosity.
Luffy's gentle eyes find him. He smiles softly before speaking,
"Let's make a promise,"
. . .
"I want to help,"
Zoro halts, turning to stare at Nami with a sharp raise of an eyebrow.
"Do you even know what you're saying?"
"Yeah," she doesn't look back at him, too focused on finishing what will hopefully look like dinner.
She's been around for a week, and a real pain in the ass ever since she found out about the solar panels; or the working outlets.
"Nami,"
The tone of his voice, more than the words, gets her attention.
She does a double-take, long orange hair swaying against her shoulders, and settles her eyes on Zoro. "What ?" Her voice rises slightly, but Zoro has spent enough time with her to understand the connotation.
"You want to help ?"
"Yes."
Zoro continues to stare, unsure if she means what he thinks she means.
She notices his uncertainties. Unsurprisingly. She has grown used to Zoro's mannerisms as well. "Yes. I want to help with-, you know, the food."
Zoro instinctively looks at the pot where she's mixing dinner.
"The other food," Nami clarifies immediately.
He can't help but snort. The sound escapes without his permission, rumbling through his chest.
"I mean it." Her tone is assertive. Dead serious.
"Ok, ok! No need to get worked up about it!" The smile fades from his lips. "You sure, though? It's basically genocide,"
"Technically speaking… I don't think 'asshole' qualifies as an ethnicity."
Zoro shrugs, "Mass murder, then."
"Hmm,... What about cleansing?"
"That sounds like we're starting a cult."
"We wouldn't be the first ones,"
"Fuck-" Zoro breathes out, leaning back, "You've also run into those freaks?"
"Unfortunately."
It's not the first time they've bonded over similar traumatic past events. Turns out, most of the apocalypse experiences are universal.
"I just want to make sure you don't regret it."
"You know I'm not exactly a saint, right?"
Zoro snorts, mumbling out a "yeah, everyone knows you're a witch" that Nami pointedly ignores.
"I just want to make sure you're sure. There's no going back after,"
"I've killed people before."
"It's different."
"And I don't mean zombies."
"Still different. You know it is," Zoro insists.
"I'm serious!" she says, dropping the spoon on the bowl she just filled, "I'm 'ok' with the whole concept idea. Besides, the world could do with fewer assholes. Those bastard's survival rates are too high."
"I'm pretty sure everyone's survival rates are barely above zero right now."
"Anything other than zero is too high for them!"
"Don't you math me,"
Nami laughs, and the corners of her lips widen, opening the path for a guffaw to surface. It's a surprisingly silent gesture but no less heartfelt.
A smile settles on her features, and she hands Zoro one of the bowls.
"I mean it. And we both know I'm practically an asshole magnet." She teases with a playful wink, "Besides, I can be very resourceful; you should know that by now,"
"This is-, insane,"
"It's the truth," Zoro states.
"I know, I know. But," She turns yet another page on the logbook she's reading. "It's just, I don't even know,"
Zoro stares at her, sitting with her knees close to her chest and a blanket over her shoulders. She has a mug filled with tea in one hand; the other, she uses to browse through the notebook Zoro has been religiously updating for the past 4 months.
"I'm sorry,"
When Zoro stares back, her lips are trembling and her eyes red; it's as if she had been crying before we walked into the room.
"I'm so sorry that you had to go through all this," she gestures to the pages, the words, the smeared paint of the days he could barely hold himself together.
"Don't," Zoro halts, trying to erase from his mind the nights spent awake listening to screams and howls, and, "Don't feel sorry. I choose this hell myself,"
"That's not what I-"
"I'm going out," Zoro interrupts. He won't be ready to talk about this in over a thousand years, "You need anything from the convenience store?"
"I'll go with you," she closes the logbook as she gets up, the blanket dropping on top of the futon.
"The konbini isn't my only stop,"
"Oh," she halts, looks towards the wooden door, "Right. He's getting hungry again,"
Zoro gives her a curt nod. "You don't want to meet hungry Luffy. Trust me."
The logbook is a detailed piece of work. Every page shows how determined Zoro is to bring Luffy back.
It's objective and utilitarian; starts on day 0, when Luffy was bitten over 4 months ago and moves onwards. There's an entry for every day.
Day 7, Day 30, Day 124, Day
Some don't say much; most don't say much other than refer to the previous entry.
But there are others. Timed transformation logs, feeding logs, eating preferences, alternative feeding attempts, abnormal behavior logs. Everything.
Zoro might not know how to use this information, but it's obvious he has been collecting it in hopes that he'll find someone who does.
Nami reaches for the cup of tea that has been keeping her company.
The logbook shifts on her lap and falls on the futon, closing in the process. It's the first time she notices the last pages are written as well.
She sips her tea, places the mug down, and opens the notebook again.
Numbers.
The pages are filled with every calculation imaginable. Zoro has mentioned his interest in maths, but- She stares at the page, wondering if this is what insanity looks like.
It's obvious Zoro had tried to find patterns, study the reoccurring abnormalities in the behavior, anything that could help, especially during those first months.
She turns the page and finds hundreds of visual representations. Graphs describing the evolution, graphs to model predictions, a general overview of the last 3 months along with the moments Luffy was fed, the moments he turns, the moments he-
She can't find a single pattern, and by the ragged state of the paper, she's certain Zoro didn't either. Ignoring the places where the paint is smudged from water droplets, Nami turns the page once again, and again.
Soon she's finding the pages covered with little notes and theories. Some, leaving her wondering if she might be roommating with a genius.
She has never thought about any of these things before; she's been more worried about trying to live to the next day. But it's obvious Zoro has had a different experience from hers, he's been paying very close attention to what is happening around them.
Luffy has confirmed Zombies have a general awareness of where people are. Predatory instincts most likely, mostly related to the sense of smell and presence? refer to page 13.
Humans are the only feasible source of nourishment for zombies. Animals not turning is most likely a direct consequence of this.
Zombies that don't feed on humans begin to rot and die. I've confirmed multiple sightings of dead zombies that didn't have the connection to the brain damaged.
Average feeding time seems to be between 7 to 10 days. refer to page 12. Average-
It goes on. Some have been crossed over; some are actually highlighted with arrows that point to further information.
Nami turns the page and stops.
There's a photo stuck close to the gutter of the notebook, held where the two pages bind together.
Even if she has never met the boy in the photo, she knows it's him.
The photo is beautifully framed for a polaroid, with Luffy as the focal point and an unbelievable overview of the city in the background.
He's wearing the old straw hat Nami has seen before, even as the sun sets in the background.
In his hand is a senko firework burning brightly; its light rivaled only by the brilliance of his smile.
Nami feels the flash of melancholy senko fireworks are promised to bring, the reminder of life's beauty and briefness.
In the back, written in black ink she finds.
We went to the amusement park. Nothing was working but the haunted house was fun with the zombies chasing us! :D
There's a date in the corner, but Nami doesn't pay it any attention as she turns the photo around. Now that she knows what she's looking at, she's certain from where the photo was taken.
The impressive overview of the city stares back.
"Did- Did they climb up the Ferris wheel?" she mouths in disbelief.
The logbook closes with a thud. Nami can't help the chuckle that leaves her lips; nor the tears that drown her eyes.
"Well, I guess it is a virus,"
Zoro doesn't answer, but the inquisitive look sent in her direction is loud.
"Viruses, you know? Their genetic code gets replicated with every infection. Mutations happen. On a Global scale of course there are going to be different variants. Why didn't I think of this before? It's so obvious,"
Zoro doesn't seem to agree, and Nami can't help but chuckle. "Not a fan of science, hm?"
"Shit, no. I was a terrible student. I didn't go to college for a reason."
"How old are you, Zoro? I'm guessing you're around my age."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty,"
He breathes out a sigh, finally conceding. "I'm twenty-one,"
"See? I wasn't too far off. What was your favorite subject, then?"
"What is this? An interrogation?"
"What was it?"
"Maths,"
"Really?" Her tone is high; her mouth hangs wide open.
"That surprising, huh?"
"It's not like that," she admits, a devilish smirk starting to grow over her lips, "I just figured you'd say sports or something,"
"Well, yeah… But I was never much of a team player so,"
"No shit,"
They both laugh, the sound chiming through the empty room.
"I guess it makes sense. Maths is pretty individual."
Zoro hums. "And there's no 'express what the author is feeling' bullshit on it,"
Nami snorts, "Valid point."
"What was your favorite subject?"
"Wanna guess?"
"Not really,"
A gasp, so fake and clearly exaggerated it's painful to hear. "Ah! You're no fun! I should charge you for it!"
"Money isn't worth shit nowadays."
"Who talked about money?" The suggestive eyebrow says it all. Zoro promptly ignores it.
"So?"
"Geography, actually," she admits without a fight, "Physical geography! Fuck human geography, that shit is nasty!"
"See? We agree on something," Zoro offers.
"You like physical geography?"
"Nah, I meant- I hate human geography,"
"Great!" she barks out excitedly, "We can bond over that!"
Once more, the room fills with their quiet laughs.
"What about Luffy?"
"What about him?"
"You met him in school?"
"Nah," Zoro admits, "He's younger, 19."
"Oh-, So where do you know him from?"
"It's not much of a story. Our paths just happened to cross."
Nami sighs, shaking her head slightly. "God, you're a terrible storyteller."
"There's not really anything to tell. He just started talking to me,"
"Out of nowhere?"
"Pretty much," And it's the truth. "That's just how Luffy is. He has a strange way of pulling people in."
Nami can see that. She wouldn't be here otherwise.
"We just, I guess, we happened to have a lot in common, and when we didn't, it never felt awkward."
Nami hums, but she doesn't say anything to that.
The national stadium is a grandiose and high-tech building, architected by powerful minds to serve as the country's main sports arena.
Its location is prime. The building rests on a slight hill, overlooking the city. Not too far or too close to the city-center. Its size keeps the stadium from being inciting - Too big and impractical to be kept as a base for survivors.
The national stadium has become Nami's new home a few days ago. And, with every passing day, she's slowly starting to come to terms with the fact that Zoro might not be that insane.
After all, everyone Nami has met so far, seems to be a little fucked.
Zoro hasn't tried to hurt her, nor kill her, nor chain her to a bed and-
He hasn't demanded any help either. Not regarding his personal hobby of going hunting, nor by requesting her to prepare their meals, not even by asking her to help gather supplies.
Zoro is actually a pretty ok guy; except for the whole keeping your friend turned zombie in a cage while feeding him people.
But even that, she...
Maybe it's the notebook she started reading a few hours ago that is changing her mind. That, and the fact that Luffy really is different from any other zombie she has encountered before.
"Morning," she welcomes him to the world of the living as Zoro finally moves from his futon, "Did you sleep well?"
Her reply is a groan, which she translates to a 'No, I didn't. But thanks for asking, Nami.'
She has noticed Zoro barely sleeps during the night. Instead, he takes a few short naps during the day. It's not uncommon, especially for people who have been on their own.
Sleeping leaves you vulnerable. And vulnerability gets you killed.
"I'm going to check on Luffy," It's the first thing he actually says.
That too, is a recurrent thing.
Zoro often walks into the adjacent room and stays there for hours. It seems pretty pointless to her, and she has no idea what Zoro does during that time.
He probably naps some more, or cleans his swords.
"Why?"
Nami only realizes she has spoken when Zoro stops walking and turns around with a curious look.
"What?"
She decides to brave on, "Why do you always stay so long in there?" she asks, "It's not like-" the words die in her mouth, certain she's treading a dangerous path.
Zoro doesn't answer. He eyes her with distrust and a set jaw.
Then, he sighs, scratching the back of his neck, "Luffy hates being alone,"
And what is she supposed to say to that?
"I thought he... You think he's conscious like that?"
"He isn't." Zoro answers, "At least, he never was before," his eyes linger on the logbook Nami is currently reading. He doesn't elaborate, but Nami is certain he knows why she's asking. How pointless his presence is then.
"And I, promised to-"
He doesn't continue. And Nami doesn't press him for answers no more.
"Two months?!"
Zoro grunts back affirmatively.
"That- that doesn't sound possible," she manages to verbalize. Her face is a mirror to her soul; shocked still, eyes wide open, and chapped lips agape. "Are you sure? Couldn't you have miscalculated? Time is hard to keep track of nowadays." Nami offers him a faint smile, "Maybe it looked that long but-"
"Two months," Zoro repeats, his voice assured. "I've been keeping logs,"
"Fuck," she curses under her breath, shoulders caving forward. "That doesn't seem possible."
Zoro isn't offended by her obvious lack of faith. He, better than anyone, knows what she means.
"Yeah, two months. Roughly speaking, that is. It's been a little over,"
Nami can't do anything other than gawk, her mind running circles around itself.
"That sounds impossible."
"I know," Zoro says, leaning back against the wall. "I don't think I'd believe it if I hadn't seen it myself,"
The ginger-haired woman hums, pondering over her words. "It's not like I don't believe you, it's just," Zoro's sharp eyes flicker in her direction, "I've seen people turn right in front of my eyes. It's fast and irreversible. They're gone in minutes, a few hours at maximum."
"I know ,"
"A week already sounds so far-fetched." she looks at Zoro, "Two months doesn't sound possible,"
"I've told you, Luffy is different,"
"I... Hm..." Her gaze stays strong, fixed on the wooden door that connects to the room where Luffy is. Her mind clearly drifts.
Zoro waits for a moment before he decides to trust her with the information, "Luffy, he,"
Nami's eyes find him, and Zoro realizes he has never talked about this with anyone before.
"When he was bitten, he didn't turn. After a week, it happened only for a few seconds," Zoro shakes his head, trying to keep the memories away, "It was always like that, on and off. With every turn, the zombie stayed longer, and Luffy less." He looks back towards the door. If he tries, he can hear him growling on the other side, "He's been like that for a while now, but he's still in there, so he'll come back,"
Nami probably doesn't believe him. And it's not like Zoro expects her to.
He is aware of how insane he sounds.
"Ok. That's... A lot to take in," she says eventually.
"You mentioned a logbook." When Zoro nods, she asks, "Can I read it?"
He turns around, gaze falling on the notebook on top of the storage cabinet. "It's there," he says, "But don't say I didn't warn you,"
Nami gives him a curt nod, and with that, Zoro decides he has had enough of this conversation. He heads towards the wooden door, opens it, and walks inside.
Nami doesn't follow him.
"What happens now?"
Zoro looks at the girl. She has a clean set of clothes on, and her hair is still dripping from the shower she took. She's been around for little over one day, and Zoro can already tell she's going to be a headache.
It's a familiar feeling.
"What do you mean?"
"What is going to happen to Arlong now?"
"Arlong?"
"The guy you -," she stops, and looks at the wooden door that connects with the room where Luffy is. "you know; what happens now?"
Zoro doesn't answer. Her question doesn't really make much sense to him.
Clearly, she notices. Groaning, she takes one second before dignifying him with an explanation. "Arlong was bitten by a zombie, so he's going to turn into one! What are you going to do with him?" Nami questions, "Do you kill him and throw him out or-"
"He's not going to turn."
"What?!"
"He's not going to turn." Zoro repeats, "Luffy's not contagious."
She looks like a fish out of the water, mouth opening and closing without making a sound. Zoro could laugh. Instead, he sighs, pulling the sleeve of his sweater up, "Look."
There's bite mark on his arm. It looks old, undoubtedly. The skin is still marred, but the tones of purple and yellow that used to decorate it are long gone.
"Not a single person I fed him turned. He's not contagious." he repeats calmly, "But he will try to bite, and he will try to kill you."
"No way... You have to be kidding me," she breathes out, murmuring to no one.
"Hard to believe?" He can't help the smirk that surfaces through his lips at her utter disbelief, "I've told you. Luffy is different,"
Nami swallows whatever is stuck in her throat and offers Zoro a curt nod. "I never thought something like that was possible, but-"
Zoro snorts, inadvertently interrupting, "Well… I never thought a zombie apocalypse was possible. Yet, here we are."
The sunrises are still as beautiful as they used to be. It's no surprise. The madness that fell upon the earth has nothing to do with the sun.
But it still feels, somehow, strange.
The sun rises in warm tones of red and orange, and its radiant brightness heats every inch of the land.
Zoro mumbles a prayer before eating his breakfast. Nothing much, but he found his favorite brand of instant coffee on the floor of a ransacked shop. It happened about a month ago, the last time he went on a proper raid for supplies.
Regular supplies.
His mug of coffee tastes bitter, the flavor strong but not unpleasant, and the warmth is enjoyable under his palms.
There's an open book nearby, but Zoro hasn't changed the page in two days.
The story is surprisingly boring, filled with long unnecessary descriptions that don't drive the plot forward. A waste of time and money.
He isn't too worried about it, though. After all, he has plans to return the book to the shop where he'd found it on his next trip to gather supplies. Maybe pick a new one; hopefully, something he could enjoy reading.
His eyes settle on the notebook next to it.
He reaches, opening the last written page to add the words 'Day 118'.
The space under 'Day 117' is almost blank. Unsurprisingly. After all, Zoro can't be bothered to write the same thing over and over again. Luffy's condition hasn't changed, not ever since he last turned - 44 days ago.
It's the longest period he's ever been turned, overcoming by a long shot the time he had stayed turned for over 2 weeks - 16 days to be precise.
He wants to say he is surprised, but he really isn't. After all, the time Luffy stays turned has been growing exponentially ever since it started. At this point, even if Zoro determines the correct parameters, it will hardly matter. None of the numbers will bring Luffy back.
His eyes shift to the counter next to the entry for Day 113. Soon, it will reach the appointed time.
Luffy has been relatively calm lately. Not a lot of growling or frenzy fights against the enclosure bars.
Zoro would rather keep it that way. Noise is still noise, even if its source is nonhuman.
He turns to the other side and picks the tourist map he tends to leave on Luffy's futon. There are some old annotations in it from better days, but Zoro's eyes are glued towards a specific area.
He has heard rumors of a group that's been kidnapping women and forcing their way with them, possibly starting what you'll call an end-of-the-world brothel.
It's about time he finds and scouts that area properly, figures out just how true these rumors are, returns that book, and brings back another snack for Luffy.
"Stop complaining, Luffy."
The zombie grumbles, the sound so familiar it's not even intimidating.
"I know, I fucking know," Zoro grumbles back, watching as Luffy gnaws at the human arm Zoro managed to bring back with him.
The zombie doesn't react much to his words, more interested in chomping at the flesh and bones until there's nothing left. The whole ordeal is such a Luffy thing, Zoro can't help but smile at the sight.
The food disappears in a flash, vacuumed out of existence in less than a minute. It's not nearly enough, Zoro knows.
The groans begin, low and rough; grumbles that turn to desperate roars as the creature lunges toward the swordsman.
"Stop whining," Zoro tells him, voice almost bored, any hit of sadness hidden away, "I don't have more."
The zombie doesn't understand anything other than the appealing smell of Zoro's flesh; the sound of his voice that so obviously screams that there's prey right there.
Zoro remains unborered, watching Luffy claw in his direction, and reach nothing other than the air between them. His fingers are painted with blood and bruised from fighting the bars.
Without much thought, Zoro reaches back. His right arm fully stretches towards Luffy, his hand stopping just a finger short of touching the desperate clawing.
Maybe in another world, Zoro would be free to hold that hand.
Maybe in another world, Zoro would be free to walk inside the barricaded cage and crush Luffy into a hug until there was nothing left of them.
If Zoro could afford to die, maybe... then...
But Luffy's is still alive. It's been a while since he came back but he's still there. Zoro knows. He knows.
"Just one more day." Zoro chants to himself, "It'll be over tomorrow,"
He drops his arms and leans back on the wooden box where he stores some extra utilities; left hand clenching around his katana's scabbard.
"I almost died today, you know?"
Luffy grumbles - or maybe his stomach does - displeased that he can't seem to reach and eat the prey that is right there.
"You should be a little more grateful," Zoro tells him, lips quirking ironically as Luffy mindlessly continues to reach. Zoro knows the zombie instincts won't allow him to stop while he stays so close.
But, right now, he just can't bring himself to move away.
He needs Luffy's presence at least, even if he can't have anything else.
"Don't worry. I'll try again in a couple more hours," eyes closed, and a deep breath leaves him, "once it all calms down in there."
Mistakes are costly. Always. But especially when you're on your own in the middle of a worldwide apocalypse.
It's not a bad day, far from it.
Zoro has managed to find a good target, a big guy with short blond hair and a squared jaw.
A coward. In all possible meanings of the word.
Scum. The type Luffy would clobber into another country.
Of that, Zoro is certain. He witnessed with his own eye how the bastard used his own son as a shield to save his own skin.
Disgusting coward. The lowest of scum.
The type of breathing bag of flesh this world won't miss for more than half a second.
Zoro executes everything perfectly. He waits for the right moment to shatter the bone of that despicable jaw. The bastard recoils, dazed, spitting drops of blood onto the dusty ground.
Zoro sprints to action. His movements are precise - utilitarian, even. The result of countless and countless other times, exactly like this one.
Find a target. Isolate it. Knock it out without killing. Secure it. Carry it back.
More often than not, Zoro has to add another step to his routine - To rescue any human in danger or ensure that someone else is going to.
This time is not any different. Zoro had made sure the bastard's son was alive and relatively safe before stalking his prey. Of course.
It's part of the process. Luffy would never forgive him if he knew Zoro had disregarded someone in need.
And besides, Zoro had promised. In a way,
The mistake, the miscalculation, comes later.
As Zoro traverses a sea of hungry zombies, the broken-jaw asshole decides to regain consciousness.
It's not hard to notice. His breathing, for instance, changes quite obviously. Then, there's the struggle against the binds, chafing his tied wrists to soreness.
"Stop struggling," Zoro demands, voice quiet as to not incite the living dead.
Broken-jaw doesn't. In fact, he does quite the opposite.
With a broken mandible, he can't speak properly, but he sure can make noise.
And noise he makes.
Grunts and groans that grow into roars.
Zoro realizes too late what he is trying to achieve. Maybe he'd realized his own fate was death; how little he had to lose by welcoming it.
The zombies sprint in their direction, mindless creatures seeking their prey by sound. Their instinct is sharp and deadly accurate.
Zoro quickly draws his sword, slicing his way through dead flesh and rotten muscles. His weapon is silent, but his movements are too obvious for the horde of undead. Especially when a certain bastard continues to shout out every possible and imaginable groan from Zoro's shoulder.
Shut up , he wants to yell.
The zombies continue to storm them, and in the chaos Zoro fails to notice how the bastard's binds grow looser and looser.
Broken-jaw instantly takes advantage of it; breaking out of the hold and hitting Zoro in the head with a powerful blow.
"Fuck." Zoro curses, somehow still standing. He barely manages to dodge the claws of an infected. "Fuck!"
The bastard gives him a mocking smile, one that tells Zoro that he is set on getting them both killed. If he is going down, he will take Zoro with him.
It's a fair sentiment. But death is not something Zoro can afford to indulge in.
Not until,
He slams Broken-jaw to the floor without hesitation, holding him down with a foot. He pulls the bastard's right arm back, and back, and back until he hears the joint crack.
His sword is drawn. The blade cuts the air, the flesh, and then the bone; separating the arm from the man.
There's a howl; then there's blood, gushing out of the axis artery as more cries unfold.
Zoro doesn't spare the spectacle a look. The noise proves to be a good distraction, the smell of blood an equally nice diversion.
Zoro keeps his life - and an extra arm - for yet another day.
"Luffy,"
Zoro kills that feeling of hope in his chest, the one he always feels when he responds to his voice.
Luffy stares, quietly, the corpse by his side forgotten. His eyes are glassy white, a color Zoro has seen on a thousand other faces, only, those never stare back.
"Come on, Luffy," Zoro begs, grabbing the bars of the enclosure. "Just, come back already, damn it."
Luffy doesn't answer; of course, he doesn't.
He never answers. He just stays like that, still, like he can and can't see; like he can and can't hear.
Lately, it's the closest he has managed to reach on the limbo of humanity.
It's yet another day, another week, maybe another month; the entries on the logbook pile, mockingly.
"I'm waiting, you idiot,"
"Oh god, no. Get me out of here!" a woman with black wavy hair and beautiful soft-looking skin, screams.
It's not a smart choice; to scream in the proximity of a zombie.
Not that it matters. She is already too close; the smell of flesh and the drumming of her heartbeat, enticing.
"Please. Please. Just get me out of here. I'll do anything. I'll do whatever you want, I'll-" her voice breaks into a sob, loud wails covered in snoot. "Please. I don't wanna die,"
Zoro doesn't dignify her an answer. He stays where he is, with his back against the wall and his katana by his side; watching.
Behind the curtain of anguish, she must notice it too. The tears dry in her eyes, burned away by the intensity of her emotions.
"You sick, bastard." she howls, grutural like the song of the earth when it quakes. "I'm going to kill you!" she screams like many others before her.
Zoro never leaves. He stays until the screams of fear turn to anguish and rage turn to inevitable silence.
Bones cracking, and chewing, and-
Zoro waits. Watches the personal hell he brought upon himself.
"Just one more day," he says. Luffy is too busy feasting to notice his words. "It'll be over tomorrow,"
Zoro already knew it was going to happen.
The symptoms are always the same, only they get worse as the amount of turns pile up.
First, the skin pales, like he hasn't seen sunlight in years. Then, the eyes.
The dark circles surface, aggravating with every passing day until they're sunken. The color washed away, as the eyes slowly turn to glass. White and void, like those of a dead fish.
He stops being able to hold down food - regular food - and pukes it out of his stomach as his body rejects the last bits of humanity within.
"Hey, breathe," Luffy does, in and out, following the rhythm of Zoro's fingers as they brush down and up his back.
"I'm going to turn," he coughs his throat raw, "again,"
"I know," The preparations have been made. The enclosure is ready, tested, reinforced; and Zoro has already found a new target.
"Come on," Zoro's arm circles his waist, and Luffy goes limb against him, "I'll help you in,"
Silence fills the way to the enclosure.
"Are you going to wait?"
"Luffy, we've talked about this," he says, "I mean it. You know I'd never lie to you. We've made a promise and I'll keep it 'till the end." Whenever that is.
"Just, trust me ok?" Zoro begs, "It will be over before you know it," he closes the door. Locks the door.
"You're so stubborn, Zoro,"
Zoro could start a religion from the chuckle that leaves Luffy's lips.
"I've had a great teacher," he says, somehow smiling. With the enclosure locked, the bars split them apart; neither dares move away.
"Stay," Luffy reaches through the bars, and finds Zoro's hand already waiting for him. "just until I... please,"
Zoro does. Always.
"How long are you going to wait?"
Forever , Zoro wants to answer.
"You haven't turned yet," he says instead.
They're both sitting down on the tiled floor of their most recent home; a wide room with two futons, a cabinet, and an ugly-looking cage in the backroom.
It's a miracle Zoro managed to get him out of there. As of late, Luffy keeps gravitating towards the enclosure, the bars must feel like a safety net for him. For what becomes of him.
"Zoro! I have turned! Multiple times! You should've just- just..."
"You always come back,"
Luffy clenches his jaw, shut so tight he could probably grind his own teeth like that. He breathes the tears in, and whispers, "You don't know that,"
"I do. I know you ." Zoro tells him, softly, "You always come back."
Luffy doesn't say anything to that; other than the hiccups he doesn't manage to swallow, or the tears he doesn't wipe away.
Zoro leans a little closer, and Luffy falls on his shoulder.
"I hate this."
"I know," Zoro brushes a hand through his hair, back and forward, like the sway of the sea. Pushing the strands of hair away from his eyes, massaging the tense muscles at the back of his neck until the hiccups subside.
"No regrets?"
"Never," Zoro says without a hint of hesitation. He laces their fingers together and squeezes his hand tight.
The motion is enough to pull at the corners of Luffy's lips. The smile that surfaces, is blinding as it is beautiful.
Like a ray of hope in the middle of an endless tunnel of darkness.
The brilliance of it holds a strength that pulls at Zoro's own lips until their grins are matching.
How Luffy does it, it's beyond Zoro's understanding. What he does know is that - the moment that smile is gone, it will be over for them both.
"Zoro really is amazing," Luffy tells him, raising their linked hands in front of them, "It feels wrong to do this to you,"
"Luffy,"
"I mean, it's taking longer and longer to turn back," he says evenly as if Zoro doesn't know it himself. "One day, I'll just stay like that forever. No matter what you do, or for how long you wait, I won't turn back. And then what?"
Zoro takes a deep and long breath. Grips that hand a little tighter.
"I'll wait one more day. Just to be sure,"