Jinbe sat on a low mound of poufs and pillows in the courtyard at the base of the temple, mango juice in one hand and a plate of cut papaya and guava balanced on his knee. Around him, locals and members of the crew chatted and laughed as the celebration continued well into the night. Fires burned in carved basins arranged along the wide temple steps, their orange light spreading across the courtyard. Food and drink flowed freely, shared with the Straw Hats in gratitude and revelry.
The pirate crew who had been terrorizing the settlement had given the Straw Hats little trouble. The fight had ended quickly, with hardly a scratch among them. Luffy had punched the captain through the wall of an abandoned storehouse, Zoro had defeated the first mate, and Sanji had sent several men sailing into the harbor. For the Straw Hats, it had been another battle on another island. For the people who lived here, it had restored their homes, their trade, and their freedom.
He took another sip of mango juice, enjoying the rich sweetness. Moments such as this reminded him why he had chosen to sail with Luffy. The young captain didn’t speak about justice or duty. He simply saw someone in chains and broke them. He saw people suffering and became furious on their behalf. His reasons could sound selfish when he explained them, yet his actions reached far beyond himself.
Joining the crew had been an easy decision by the time Jinbe finally made it. Learning how to live among them had required more adjustment.
His gaze roved across the temple grounds. Firelight warmed the pale stone and picked out the deep carvings along the pillars. The reliefs depicted curling waves, fish with long fins, and figures carrying bowls toward a many-armed sea deity. Garlands of broad green leaves and yellow flowers hung between the columns. Several had begun to droop in the night air, though the celebration showed no sign of doing the same.
Overhead, a narrow sliver of moon hung in the dark sky. Stars crowded the open space above the courtyard, uninterrupted by clouds or smoke. Beyond the temple walls, Jinbe could hear the faint rush of the sea at the foot of the cliffs. The tide moved through the caves below the island, sending a low murmur through the stone at irregular intervals.
Knots of people sat on rugs, poufs, pillows, and low stools brought out from the temple for the feast. Children darted between the groups with pieces of fruit clutched in their hands. He could see Usopp weaving a tale for a small crowd, Chopper amongst them with wide-eyed wonder. Nami had joined a dice game near the foot of the steps. A growing stack of coins sat beside her knee, and the three local merchants playing against her wore expressions of increasing alarm. Brook’s yo-ho-ho-ho and Franky’s booming laugh rose into the night from time to time.
Robin still sat deep in conversation with the priests of the temple. They’d been given the honor of having someone on the crew participate in one of their rituals. Jinbe had been too far away to hear the particulars when the priests approached Robin, but Zoro had been selected. He had entered the temple shortly after sunset, escorted by two attendants carrying shallow golden bowls. Jinbe hadn’t noticed when he re-emerged, but he saw him quite clearly now.
Zoro was weaving through the courtyard, stepping around pillows, cups, and reclining guests. He wore a rather scandalous Speedo, one of Franky's judging by the placement of the pineapples. His green haramaki remained wrapped around his waist, with all three swords tucked securely at his side. A rather incongruous look, especially with the gold designs painting his skin – whorls and curls, waves and crests, lines looping over his arms, legs, chest, back, and face. They glittered whenever he passed one of the fires. Some of the patterns disappeared beneath the Speedo and haramaki, suggesting that the temple attendants had been thorough in their work.
Jinbe hid his amusement behind his drink at the sight of the stoic swordsman appearing so thoroughly decorated. The ritual must have involved more than paint. Zoro’s steps remained firm, though his path curved in ways that couldn’t be blamed entirely on the obstacles scattered across the courtyard. His visible eye held a soft, unfocused look. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were rosy.
He watched as Zoro made his way over to Sanji, who’d gone off to cook earlier with Luffy clinging to his back, and now stood near the edge of the courtyard smoking a cigarette. A couple he had been speaking with had wandered away a few minutes earlier, leaving him alone beside a low wall covered in flowering vines.
The Straw Hat crew was an eclectic collection of personalities. Jinbe had known that before joining them, but living aboard the Sunny had given him a much fuller understanding of the matter. Their arguments could begin over food, bathing schedules, weather reports, or seating arrangements. Their celebrations had a habit of ending with property damage. Even an ordinary breakfast could become a contest, a chase, or a brawl.
Their antics never failed to draw a smile from him. He expected an entertaining fight when Zoro reached Sanji. The swordsman would make some comment about dinner. Sanji would insult his intelligence, appearance, or smell. Zoro would return the insult. A kick and a sword hilt would follow.
Jinbe lifted his drink and settled in to watch.
He did not expect for Zoro to kiss Sanji’s cheek.
Sanji hadn’t expected it either, judging by his cough of smoke and the wide-eyed look he turned on Zoro.
Jinbe paused with the rim of the cup near his mouth.
Zoro stood close enough that the tips of his swords pressed against Sanji’s hip. A small, lopsided smile curved his lips. The gold lines painted across his cheek caught the light as he tipped his head.
“I like you,” he declared, his voice carrying just enough for Jinbe to hear. "You make me feel safe, you know?"
Sanji’s mouth dropped open as Jinbe’s brows climbed. Those two were the epitome of opposites. Their clashes could shake the ship from bow to stern. They argued through meals, repairs, storms, and battles. Jinbe had once watched them turn the placement of a barrel into a dispute that lasted most of an afternoon. He knew, like the others, they shared similar fundamental values, morals, and life goals, but they were very different men.
Zoro reached his hand out and brushed Sanji's hair away from his face. Jinbe anticipated an explosion, but Sanji remained still, stunned, cigarette caught partway to his mouth.
Zoro’s thumb rubbed against the swirl of Sanji's eyebrow near his temple. "You're the other part of me. The curly one."
"Are you drunk?" Sanji asked, flabbergasted.
"Can't get drunk," Zoro said with a crinkle of his brow. "M'just... relaxed."
Sanji stared at him. "High, you mean."
The ritual, then. Jinbe glanced toward Robin and the priests. One of them had noticed Zoro and now watched with both hands folded serenely in his lap. Robin followed his gaze. Her smile deepened, though she made no move to intervene.
Zoro rubbed his thumb against Sanji’s eyebrow again. "I've always liked your stupid swirly brows."
Sanji sputtered. “You– I–”
"I want to be part of your after,” Zoro said in a tone so hopeful it made Jinbe’s heart catch in surprise.
The crew often spoke of their dreams. Luffy would become King of the Pirates. Zoro would become the world’s greatest swordsman. Nami would draw her map, and Sanji would find the All Blue. They spoke about the future as a destination they would reach together, though each dream carried its own road beyond that point.
Jinbe had heard Sanji speak of opening a restaurant one day. He’d heard Zoro say little about what would come after his duel with Mihawk.
Now Zoro stood beneath the temple fires, covered in gold paint and wearing pineapple swimwear, asking Sanji for a place in whatever life waited beyond their journey.
“Can I?” Zoro asked, his voice softer now, his open expression almost vulnerable.
Sanji stared at him, a deep flush coloring his face.
Then he flicked his cigarette onto the ground, crushed it beneath his shoe, and tackled Zoro onto a cluster of poufs and cushions.
Several nearby guests startled and shifted away. Zoro landed on his back with Sanji above him, his swords knocking harmlessly against the stone beneath the cushions.
His delighted laugh rolled through the courtyard before Sanji bent down and smothered it with a kiss.
For a moment, Jinbe could only stare.
Sanji caught Zoro by the front of his haramaki and kissed him again. Zoro’s arm wrapped around Sanji’s waist, pulling him closer as the cushions shifted beneath them. The gold paint had already begun transferring onto Sanji’s cheek and fingers.
A few locals glanced their way, smiled, and returned to their conversations. Near the temple steps, Robin rested her chin against her hand. The priest beside her appeared entirely satisfied with the outcome of the ritual.
Jinbe threw his head back and laughed.
“Wahahaha!” His voice carried across the courtyard, drawing a glance from Nami and several others. He raised his cup toward the two men half-hidden among the poufs. “I love this crew.”
End