Night settled soft and warm over the beach, the sky spread deep and clear above them, crowded with stars bright enough to silver the edges of the waves. The cookout had ended hours ago, leaving only the last low glow of the bonfire and a few stubborn tongues of flame licking through blackened driftwood while the Straw Hats lingered in the cooling sand around it. Earlier, they’d dragged larger pieces of driftwood close for seats.
Luffy had fallen asleep flat on his back with one arm flung over Chopper, who was curled against his side and snoring through his nose. The bottles were nearly empty, the plates scraped clean, the night balmy enough that no one was in a hurry to move, and offshore the Thousand Sunny rocked at anchor, her lion figurehead turned toward them through the dark.
They’d stopped at the speck of an island earlier to hunt, forage, and give Nami time to map it. It was uninhabited, little more than a pass-by along the Log Pose route, but uncharted territory was still uncharted territory. The bonfire and barbecue had been a good way to end the day before the Sunny continued on her journey.
Zoro sat with his back against a piece of driftwood, katanas leaning beside him, a dwindling bottle of sake balanced on his knee. Conversation drifted from topic to topic, loosening as the fire burned down and the last of the food disappeared. Eventually it circled around to what they’d do once they’d achieved their dreams, the way it sometimes did on nights when the sea was calm and no one was ready to sleep. Zoro listened with half an ear, and the answers lined up the way he’d always figured they would. Ships. Homes. People. Places to return to after the fighting was done.
“Restaurant’s still the plan,” Sanji said, stubbing out his spent cigarette in the sand. “Best damn one on the All Blue.”
Franky grinned. “I’m sticking with the Sunny, wherever she sails.”
Usopp rubbed the back of his neck. “I might go see Kaya. See if there’s still a chance there.”
Jinbe looked out toward the water, thoughtful. “My dream will be ongoing, I suspect. There will always be work to do.”
“I would like to rebuild a library like the one on Ohara,” Robin said, turning the cup in her hand. “One that is open to everyone and doesn’t ban knowledge, whether good or bad.”
“If you need someone to help you collect books, I’m there,” Franky said.
Robin smiled. “I would like that.”
“I am going to see if Vivi’s still single,” Nami said, her lips stained from the berry wine. “And that’s all I’m going to tell you.”
Sanji swooned stupidly. “Do you need a third–”
Nami cut him off with a punch. “No.”
“I believe I shall go back on tour,” Brook said. “There are many out there who haven’t gotten the pleasure of hearing the Soul King.”
“Music is a good way to heal the soul,” Jinbe said. “Perhaps I shall travel with you, while continuing work on bettering human-Fishmen relations.”
“My eyes would fill with tears of joy for the offer, if I had any eyes. But I don’t – because I’m a skeleton! Yo-ho-ho-ho!”
“What about you, Zoro?” Usopp asked.
Zoro already knew this answer. “I’ll be wherever the cook is.”
Silence descended swiftly. Then Sanji broke it with a stuttered, “What the hell are you talking about, shit swordsman?”
Zoro glanced over at Sanji where he sat against a piece of driftwood. Around the fire, no one looked surprised for long. Nami’s mouth twitched first, then Usopp made a strangled sound into his cup, and Beli quietly started changing hands between the others. Zoro narrowed his eye at Sanji. “I answered the question.”
“You answered the question wrong,” Sanji said. “Were you even listening, or did all that booze soak into your brain?”
“Just because your tolerance is shit, doesn’t mean mine is,” Zoro said. “I said what I said because it’s the truth.”
“It’s not the truth, stupid!”
“It is!”
“It’s not!”
“It is!”
“It’s not!” Sanji launched a kick at Zoro across the bonfire. “Take it back!”
Zoro swiftly drew one of his katanas and blocked. “I’m not going to take it back.”
“I’m going to make you take it back!”
They fought, clashing through the sand, jumping over driftwood and sliding into the shallows as the fight carried them down the shoreline, away from the bonfire and out of earshot beneath the rush of the surf. Sanji came at him hard, one kick after another, forcing Zoro to give ground as he caught the blows against his katana. Zoro parried, shoved him back, and followed as cold water broke around their shins, foaming white over the sand.
He kept to one blade, sheath tucked through his belt, dodging more than attacking while Sanji’s kicks came fast enough to make the air crack. This was easier than sitting across the fire with everyone watching. Sanji could glare at him here. Could curse and kick and make the whole thing into a fight instead of whatever else it was. Zoro understood that much, even if he didn’t get what Sanji’s problem was. “What’s your problem, shit cook?”
“My problem is that you just proclaimed you’re going to be with me after everything’s done,” Sanji snapped, following the words with another kick.
“Because that’s what I’m going to do.” Zoro ducked under another toe aimed at his temple, and his katana rang against the heel of the follow up.
“No, you aren’t!”
“Yes, I am!”
Steel cracked against Sanji’s kick down the beach. Wet sand kicked up around them, water soaking their lower legs. Behind them, the crew’s voices had blurred back into conversation, distant beneath the wind and waves.
Zoro caught a kick to his thigh, jumped back several feet, and stopped the next one with a turn of his wrist, swinging his blade up in time. “Why are you so pissed off?”
“I’m pissed off because you’re being stupid,” Sanji growled, driving another kick toward Zoro’s ribs.
“It’s stupid to want to be wherever you are?”
“Yes!” Sanji launched into a flurry of roundhouses, spray flashing around his legs. “You’re making it sound like you want a relationship.”
Zoro frowned at him. “Is this about sex?”
Sanji’s face went red, and he sputtered.
Zoro went on. “Because if that’s what you want, I’m okay with it, but you could just keep doing things with women.”
Up the beach, the bonfire had burned low near the crew, throwing orange over their faces while the surf threw silver across everything else. The next wave rolled in around their ankles and broke white against Zoro’s calves, hissing back over the sand as if even the ocean wanted to clear out of the way. Sanji stood a few paces from him in the shallows, shirt clinging damp against his ribs, one foot set back and his jaw tight enough to show in the moonlight.
“You’ve lost your mind,” Sanji said. “You’ve contracted some disease that eats the moss growing between your ears.”
Zoro was getting annoyed. “Look, as long as I get to be the one who you feed, fight with, shit talk and talk shit with, and stand under the stars with a smoke and a drink and just be, I don’t care what else you do or who you do it with. You’re the one I want to be around for the rest of this.”
Sanji went still, his eyes wide. Then he jerked his gaze away and tugged at the collar of his shirt. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he said roughly.
Zoro almost snapped back, then stopped. The cook wasn’t looking at him anymore. His shoulders were tight, his jaw tense, his mouth pulled into the same hard line he wore when someone got too close to something sensitive. It wasn’t anger. Not all of it.
Zoro slid the katana into its sheath. “I know exactly what I’m saying. I’ve known it since Kuraigana, when I decided I didn’t want to be like Mihawk, spending my life alone in some empty castle waiting for someone to challenge me for my title. I’ll always support Luffy, but you’re it for me, cook.”
Sanji went silent. Zoro crossed his arms and waited. He knew what he wanted and wasn’t going to change his mind.
The bonfire crackled and settled while the surf rolled in with a low rush. Sanji pulled a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and lit it, the end flaring briefly before the smoke rose in a silvered haze.
“I’m going to make you do dishes. And fish,” Sanji said, voice low and gruff. “You’re not going to lay around napping and stinking up the place.”
“Figured as much,” Zoro said, feeling the knot that had grown inside him start to unwind.
Sanji’s cigarette flared in the dim. “And this doesn’t mean I’ve suddenly fallen for you.”
“Didn’t think it did.”
Sanji cut him a glance. “You really want to be with me for the rest of your life.”
“Yeah,” Zoro said, meeting his gaze head on. ”I do.”
“Tch.” Sanji turned his face away, looking out over the sea. His cigarette glowed again. “Crazy marimo.”
Zoro unfolded his arms. “We done now? I want to finish my sake.”
Sanji waved him off. “Go finish pickling yourself.”
Zoro looked at him a moment longer, then walked back to the bonfire. He didn’t acknowledge the curious faces of the others as he set his katana with the other two and retook his seat.
“Everything alright, Zoro-san?” Brook asked.
“‘S’fine,” Zoro said, picking up his discarded bottle of sake and taking a long swig.
“Anything you want to tell us? About you and Sanji-kun?” Nami prodded.
“Why? So you can make another bet?”
Nami didn’t even pretend to be offended. “Only if the odds are worth it.”
Zoro scowled at her. “It’s none of your business,” he said. He shifted his scowl to the others. “None of you.”
He got tilts of acknowledgement, a gulp from Usopp, and hands up from Franky. “It’s all super, bro.”
They went back to their conversation, and he went back to his drink.
The firelight dimmed more as the wood burned low. A breeze rose off the ocean, carrying the scent of salt with it. The stars shone brightly overhead.
Zoro rolled his head and looked over where Sanji still stood in the shallows, a distance away. The glow of the cigarette briefly lit against the dark. The hum of his nakama chatting underscored the roll of the surf.
He didn’t know what the future would bring, or how it would look, or what would be expected once they got there. All he knew was that Sanji was part of it, and that was good enough for him.
End