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Roronoa.
These were the words that repeated in his head mercilessly, a dull mantra.
Roronoa. Roronoa. Roronoa.
A name that described the weapon, not the user. But still, there was some satisfaction in its simplicity.
Although Vinsmoke was a lot better.
Sanji’s hands were still shaking, heart was still pounding, blood still rushing to his ears from the lethal fight he’d been in only moments ago.
He’d never admit it, already as the thought passed through in his mind he effectively forced himself to forget but...he sort of liked the meathead.
The same way a king likes a fiery peasant.
Or a monster that prefers a certain hench man.
Wait…
No.
Hell no.
His “like” wasn’t that fond. Especially not for that jackass, who ran around screaming about dreams and stupidity like an idiot. He was….he was just...
Interested. That was better.
The same way a scientist studies an unknown animal, wanting to dissect it.
Or the way a little kid watched in wonder as they ripped the legs off of bugs.
The teen let out a wicked grin. Interesting or not, this wasn’t over. The delinquent swordsman was definitely the most fun he had in while, second only to his Slaughter Fest at Big Mom's place and truth be told, this battle could very well top that. So he’d be sure to pay a visit to this Roronoa Zoro. After all, he’d just so graciously let his prey escape.
And this was far from over.
The hunt was just beginning.
Zoro was confused.
The surface beneath him was soft, unlike the concrete floor. A bed? He shifted a bit, confirming his suspicions.
Why was he on a bed?
Last he checked, he had been one good swing away from erasing that bastard off the face of the earth. But then…
Kuina.
“Oi! SIS?! ZEN WHERE ARE YA?” Zoro yelled, flinging his charcoal eyes open in panic. A frantic glance around the room confirmed that yes, he was in a room and yes, this was his bed. But that didn’t answer his question.
Where the hell was his younger sister?
He heard a muffled voice and shifting in the small apartment. It was followed by a loud bang--likely because the hero suddenly shouted without warning. He strained his ears, just managing to catch the faint “--ere.” and the green haired teen felt a sense of relief.
The last thing Zoro remembered was that arrogant asshole sparing him and his sister, with a backwards wave and jaded tone that still somehow managed to convey the promise of a rematch.
One without any setbacks.
“You get to live for now Roronoa Zoro. Enjoy.”
The cocky shit.
Wait.
He spared them?
Vinsmoke, the 3rd heir to the Germa Soldier Division?
Heh, he was probably just scared.
The punk.
Sanji shuffled his way to the bathroom, slowly changing into clean clothes. Already he felt loads better, dressed in a loose fitted red shirt and semi-form fitting black boxers. He stretched, groaning in satisfaction at the sharp cracks of his joints, and enjoying the way it echoed in the small bathroom.
He exited, running tan fingers through his now-floppy green hair, spikes long dead and frowned as he held a piece between his fingers. The hair was lengthy, reaching almost past his chin and the teen made a mental note to get a haircut.
Or at least a trim. Split ends were no fucking joke, and a monster in it's own right.
Monster.
That word seemed to keep popping up.
An odd feeling was niggling heavily at the back of Zoro’s mind. Something he couldn’t quite understand.
His sister should’ve been here by now, Kuina was always a mother hen (a fucking viscous one at that) when he got hurt.
It wasn’t like her to not already be in his room, ushering him to get back in bed, even though he was perfectly okay, super-regenerative abilities an’ all that.
Which meant something was wrong, or at the very least, unusual.
He recalled hearing the loud crash and felt his blood spike, hurriedly running out of the bedroom, and grabbing his bat as he went.
Kuina never made any noise. She was used to his sudden outbursts and always replied calmly or tersely, normally by his beside practicing her katas, or in the kitchen cooking a small meal.
Damn.
He was so stupid.
Zoro rushed out into the hallway and over to his sister’s room,busting the door open with so much force that the wood began to crack, but he could care less than two shits about it.
His head went as though he were a pendulum and swung around, looking for the last of his kin.
Finally common sense told him to glance down a bit, she was only 15 after all, and barely reached his hip.
But instead of meeting charcoal eyes, so much like her father's, he was greeted by cerulean orbs.
Sanji stood poised mid-step, his left foot halfway out of the window.
“Um, bro…?”
Zoro looked to his side, his mind blank, not completely comprehending the situation.
Kuina was staring up at him, face scrunched in a mix of worry and apprehension.
“I can explain.”