One Piece Fan Fiction ❯ Drawn ❯ Chapter 6 ( Chapter 6 )

One Piece, it's characters and settings, belongs to Oda Eiichirou and Shonen Jump, and are being used here without permission. Rated PG-13 for language and violence, nothing more than One Piece usually has. C&C welcomed and greatly appreciated.

 

 

 

 

Drawn

Chapter 6

 

 

Zoro regarded the phantom guardedly as they faced each other on the beach, his eyes narrowed and fists clenched. He'd known all along that this man would be trouble for them—was beginning to wish they'd never come across the pale bastard who'd called him back to this world. More than that, he was angry with himself for having lost track of his own sword like this; he'd braced the trio against the cabin wall while replacing Nami's table in her workroom, so that he'd have them when he returned below deck for the night. Ghost…must have taken it from there, when he was with Luffy. He muttered a curse under his breath.

 

Ghost's lip curled in a thin smirk. “What's the matter?” he taunted. “Looking at this?” He patted the hilt of his sword. “You were careless, you know, leaving it out in the open like that,” he chided. “Anyone could have just—”

 

“What do you want?” Zoro cut him off irritably, folding his arms. “It's late, I'm tired, and I don't feel like wasting my time with you.”

 

“That's cold, Rolonoah. And here, I was going to offer you such a wonderful opper—”

 

“I'm not interested,” he interrupted again. He took a step forward. “Now give me the sword so I can get to sleep.”

 

But Ghost took a step back, out of reach. “If you want it back you have to hear me out,” he drawled, his eyes gleaming dangerously. Zoro's lips pursed; he was beginning to see this was going to be a problem. “There's someone you should talk to before you dismiss what we have to say.”

 

Zoro sighed, though he understood the gravity of those words. Ghost had only been “alive” for less than a day, and already he was scheming something? With someone else? “Listen,” he tried again. “Whatever you're up to, it has nothing to do with me. We're not going to cause trouble on this island when there's a marine base, so cut the crap and let's just go to bed.”

 

“Not even if it has to do with….” He paused dramatically. “…that Mihawk of yours?”

 

Zoro's eyebrow twitched as he glared the man down. “You don't know what you're talking about,” he warned. “I didn't even have you then, so don't think you can play me with that. He's not here.”

 

“Of course he's not. But that doesn't mean it's not worth your while.” Ghost turned slightly, as if intending to leave, and Zoro ground his teeth in frustration. “Get your swords and follow me,” the ghost said shortly. “Remember, I know you—you won't be disappointed.” And with one last, fleeting smirk he started up the beach, toward the edge of the cherry tree groves.

 

Zoro scowled after him, though there wasn't much else he could do. He didn't like the idea of letting Ghost roam around unchecked—liked the idea of losing one of his three swords to him even less. “Bastard.” Shaking his head he climbed back up to the deck of the ship, locating his remaining two swords and fastening them securely to his hip. He glanced around, only to see that Luffy was gone from the railing; he must have gone down for the night already. For a moment he considered telling someone he was going, but…it wouldn't take long for him to refuse whatever offer Ghost had schemed up, and then he'd be back and sleeping comfortably in his hammock.

 

In the end, there was no decision to make; he was just about to leave the ship once more when a door opened behind him, and he glanced back to see Nami emerging from below deck. He frowned slightly, but it wasn't any of his business what she was doing up. When she glanced over at him, though, she must have noticed that he was wearing his swords. “Zoro?”

 

“It's nothing,” Zoro quickly assured, heading toward the rail once more. He was feeling somewhat embarrassed about the entire situation, and there was no way to explain without it sounding as if he'd given in to Ghost. “I'll be back in a while—don't worry, I'm not causing trouble.”

 

Nami sighed, and he could perfectly imagine the face she must have borne. “Like I believe that.”

 

But Zoro only smirked half-heartedly before disappearing over the edge of the ship once more, landing lightly in the water below. He could already see Ghost's form ahead of him, waiting at the line of trees. “I'm going to regret this,” he thought aloud as he started up the slight slope to meet him. But in the end Ghost was a swordsman, too—if nothing else, he might at least get another match to test himself on before they left this island.

 

---

 

Sanji frowned thoughtfully as he watched Zoro and Ghost disappear into the forest; from his post in the crow's nest he couldn't hear what words had passed between them, but he wasn't concerned—it was Zoro, after all. They were probably going off to spar or something, like stupid thick-headed swordsman did. He puffed lightly on his cigarette. “How typical.”

 

A cold breeze swept across the water, and Sanji tightened his arms around his chest as he shivered. He had a feeling it wouldn't have felt so cold if not for all the time they'd spent in the deserts of Alabasta. Though at the time it had been nearly unbearable, he was starting to miss the feeling now. It certainly would have been better if he had some company…but when his thoughts drifted in that direction he blushed, grinning down into his blanket. “Ahh, if only…”

 

“Only what?”

 

Sanji jumped, raising his surprised eyes to meet soft brown ones. And suddenly, the night didn't feel cold at all. “Miss Nami! What are you doing up here?” He quickly crawled forward to help her up into the crow's nest.

 

Nami smiled lightly as she allowed herself to be tugged inside. And though she was shivering in her T-shirt and shorts, she hesitated when Sanji pulled back his blanket to invite her inside. She sent him a glare, which he returned with an innocent grin. “It's cold up here,” he explained sheepishly.

 

Nami rolled her eyes, but when another breeze swept over them she gave in. Sanji was grinning ear to ear as he welcomed her at his side, tugging the blanket over them both. “Ah, this is so unexpected that you'd come keep me company,” he declared.

 

“I couldn't sleep,” Nami replied, though she smiled as she tightened the blanket around her. “You don't mind, right?”

 

“Of course not, of course not!” Sanji assured, nearly aglow. She should have known better by now than to think he would have ever rejected the company of a fine lady. “Any reason you're up this late?” he asked, just hoping to keep her talking so that she would stay longer.

 

Nami shrugged slightly; if Sanji hadn't been watching her face so closely, he would have missed the tiny flitter of uncertainty across her features. “Not really. Just…have a lot on my mind, I guess.”

 

“It has been an eventful day,” Sanji agreed.

 

“Yes, it has.”

 

When he thought back through everything that had happened, he was suddenly reminded of how quiet Nami had been earlier, after…the ghosts arrived. She hadn't seemed quite like herself since then. Or maybe since even before that…..

 

The cook pursed his lips, wondering if he dared bring the subject up, if Nami was sensitive about it. But as they fell silent for a moment he was able to watch her silent profile. She…did look troubled, and despite all his wishful thinking, he knew she wouldn't have come all the way up here if not for there being something on her mind.

 

“Miss Nami…?” Sanji asked carefully, still watching her. “Is something the matter?”

 

Nami didn't answer at first, her own gaze tilted up towards the night sky. “It's not that,” she said quietly, drawing the blanket more tightly around her. “Just…I've been thinking a lot, I guess. About us.”

 

Sanji's heart skipped a beat. “Us?” he echoed weakly.

 

“Yeah. You know—everyone.” Sanji deflated a little, but sobered attentively as she continued. “I can't help but feel like things are changing. The further we go, something is happening to us.” She glanced sideways at him. “You know?”

 

“Something…happening?” Sanji frowned thoughtfully. “I…think I know what you mean,” he replied, judging each word before he said it. He wanted desperately to reassure her somehow, if he could. A member of his crew was bringing him a serious issue—he should be able to handle it appropriately. But he wasn't even sure yet what it was bothering her, and his answer wasn't sounding as confident as he would have liked. “If you're talking about after Crocodile, then yeah, I definitely know.” He smirked a little. “Kinda feels like we're really coming together as a crew.”

 

“Yeah….” Nami lowered her head a little. “Yeah, I guess so.”

 

Sanji cringed; he'd said something wrong. He struggled to recover. “Well, it was scary for a while,” he tried, chuckling faintly. “But we really pulled through. Even Usopp was fighting, right? That's an accomplishment right there.”

 

Nami nodded, but her gaze was still oddly dull. “Yeah. But Luffy….”

 

Sanji's shoulder drooped slightly—he should have realized where this had been going. And he wouldn't have admitted it, but he didn't feel any more up to talking about it than she seemed. He stalled by taking a long breath on his cigarette. “What…about Luffy?”

 

As he'd prayed, Nami didn't seem to require any greater prodding to get around to what she was trying to say. “Back in Alabasta…I was really scared,” she confessed softly. A slow, self-mocking smile touched her lips. “It was silly, of course. But to see him weak like that, wondering when he'd wake up…it wasn't just me.”

 

She glanced at him for confirmation, and Sanji shifted anxiously. “Well, I guess we were all…scared,” he offered with a shrug, his pride wincing maybe a little. “He got pretty well walloped.”

 

She nodded, and went on slowly. “Luffy's a lot more than just a captain to me.” She smiled in embarrassment. “Not like that. But you were there, right? He saved me, everything I'd ever loved. And now, just by having met him…all my dreams are coming true. I don't know if you can understand, but….”

 

Sanji glanced away, a strange sensation curling in his chest. He was startled, and awed, that Nami would be sharing these kinds of feelings with him. “Yeah,” he replied with a worn smile of his own. “I understand.”

 

Nami shifted a little closer, and at the time it didn't occur to him to celebrate. He was too caught by the words she spoke next; he'd been dreading them, as it seemed their entire crew had been avoiding the subject as much as possible in the days since he'd first heard the name of the island.

 

“But then there was Bluebell.” Nami drew her knees closer against her chest so she could wrap her arms around them, beneath the blanket. “I know Luffy has his ways—he was brought up differently than us, I'm sure—but it…it scared me. Because all I could think was…what if it had been him, back in Alabasta?”

 

Sanji pursed his lips thin, though even he couldn't deny that he'd felt a chill just then. He tried to shake it from him. “What, Luffy? You know better than that—our captain isn't going anywhere.”

 

“But it's going to happen someday, isn't it?” Nami persisted, and when he risked a glance back at her he was surprised to see the moonlight glinting off her moist eyes. “We're not always going to be lucky. And when it happens…won't he want us to do that for him?” They were so close that he could feel her shivering. “I couldn't do it, Sanji. Even if I knew it was what he wanted, I know I couldn't. To just…abandon him like that….”

 

“Miss Nami….” Sanji stared at her, somewhat at a loss. Thoughts like those were the ones he'd been trying to avoid these three days, and even now he didn't feel like he could deal with them properly. But Nami was depending on him. He had never seen her quite like this, and regardless of his own uncertainty he was going to need to think of something to say.

 

Sanji took one last breath of his cigarette before flicking it away. Slowly he leaned closer to her, and was relieved when she didn't pull back. “Miss Nami, I…know what you mean. None of us want to think that we'll have to make decisions like that.” He ducked his head a little to put it at the same level as hers. “But you know what? I think the reason Luffy can be so strong is because…he just doesn't think about those things. Even after what happened, I'm sure he hasn't even imagined losing one of us. Because he'd never let that happen, and as long as we're around nothing's going to happen to him, either.”

 

Nami smiled softly, and when she nodded a tear slid down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away and took a deep breath. “God, I'm so pathetic,” she chuckled. “Such a baby.”

 

“But such a lovely one,” Sanji teased, leaning in as if in search of a kiss.

 

Nami gave him a push; all of a sudden, everything seemed back to normal. “Pervert.” But then she unexpectedly leaned closer, settling herself against his shoulder. “But you're not bad all the time.”

 

Sanji went very still, blinking down at the girl curled against him. Blushing profusely he slid a cautious arm around her shoulders; she shifted, but didn't protest. He gulped. “You can…um…sleep up here, if you want,” he offered somewhat dumbly.

 

“Maybe just for a while.” Nami relaxed against him, and he was certain he could have died happily right there. She hummed softly. “You smell like smoke.”

 

“Um…sorry…?”

 

Nami chuckled. “It's okay. It…reminds me of someone.” Another adjustment of the blankets and she was finally still, huddled under his arm and breathing deeply. “Goodnight.”

 

“Goodnight, Miss Nami….”

 

Not that Sanji expected to get any sleep….

 

*****

 

When Zoro entered the small clearing, his first thought was that he'd been led into a trap. There was a man waiting for them, bearing the same colors of Ghost's gi, with spiky black hair and shrewd eyes. There were others, as well—Zoro couldn't see them, but he could sense their quiet attention on him. His eyes narrowed as his hand dropped to Wadou's handle. “What's this about?”

 

Ghost smirked lightly, leaning against a tree to Zoro's left. “A proposition,” he reminded him. He waved at the stranger. “My great grand-nephew. Isn't it something?”

 

Zoro didn't relax. “What does he want?”

 

The stranger unexpectedly bowed in deep respect. “Rolonoah Zoro. It's an honor to meet you. I heard of your fight with Master Ohtori this afternoon—it's an impressive victory.”

 

Zoro snorted, already far past impatience. “Out with it already. I don't have time for this.”

 

“My name is Jaga Mouta,” he continued obediently. “And as Lord Magatou says, I am the current leader of…what's left of our clan.”

 

He reached for his sword, and though Zoro tensed cautiously, it was only to remove sword and sheath from his belt. He lowered himself to his knees and set the weapon at the very edge of his reach as a show of good faith. “We would be honored, if you were to assist us in destroying the Kurakuda Family.”

 

Zoro watched all the deliberate, formal movements, a little taken aback by his serious gestures and sincere tone. He hadn't been around warriors like this in a long time, and he almost felt a sting of guilt, that he had never conducted himself with such honor-laden rituals in his own practice. Almost. Slowly he knelt down as well, though he didn't dare relinquish his hold on his swords' sheaths. “The Kurakuda,” he repeated, glancing significantly at Ghost. “This has something to do with him, doesn't it?”

 

“One hundred years ago, the Jaga clan ruled Oyomi.” Zoro started when he realized it was Ghost speaking this time. He frowned, but listened. The ghost's arms were crossed, eyes narrowed but vague as he stared into the darkened forest. His voice was thick with bitterness. “I was the heir, and my father's greatest warrior. Kurakuda was only a nuisance back then, and we didn't realize when they began to gather power.” A shudder went through his false flesh. “They coerced a man of my family—my own cousin killed me in my sleep, stole Oyomitou and led the Kurakuda to my father.”

 

“The Kurakuda family has ruled on and off since then,” Mouta picked up the story solemnly, though with no less strain in his voice. “We've seen many wars, and then the marines came. Right now the sword is held by the Aoyama family. But everyone knows they serve Kurakuda—they're weak. Our entire island has become a nation of cowards.” His voice rose a pitch in righteous anger. “The Kurakuda have ruined us. They severed our lines of tradition, have dissolved entire clans through their twisted politics, have sold out their own students to the marines! And now that our Lord Magatou has returned, we must destroy them!”

 

Zoro leaned back a little, stone-faced and unmoved by his speech. This was too much for someone like him—an outsider who couldn't care less—to be getting into. “So.” He glanced at the trees. “How many of you are there, anyway? If your clan is supposedly extinct, having me with you isn't going to change your chances against an entire clan.”

 

Mouta's eyes sharpened. “We're not going to challenge the Kurakuda directly,” he confessed. “Their numbers are too many. We're going to slaughter the Aoyama.”

 

“The….” Zoro's frown deepened. So much for honor and spirit. “Why?”

 

“We have a man on the inside,” Mouta explained. “A Kurakuda. Aoyama is holding the sword in the center of the island—my clan will attack, posing as Kurakuda, to wipe them out. Aoyama is weak, and we shouldn't have trouble. Our men will then return Oyomitou to the Kurakuda.” He titled his head up slightly. “Of course, that kind of honor-less slaughter will turn the rest of the island against them. We've already leaked information to Master Ohtori that Kurakuda will be taking back Oyomitou tomorrow. When he learns that his brother-in-law's clan has been wiped out by them, he will retaliate. This island loves Master Ohtori. They will rally to him.”

 

“So you're setting them up,” Zoro surmised, his ill ease growing. “You want Ohtori to take out Kurakuda for you, because you can't do it yourself.”

 

Mouta straightened subtly. “Master Ohtori is a skilled and respected leader here in Oyomi. A man of real honor. He will restore nobility to our nation.”

 

It wouldn't be the first time, the back of Zoro's mind whispered to him, that he helped meddle in someone else's political affairs. Luffy's crew was rather good at that, and Mouta was right—Ohtori was an honorable swordsman, who would rule with dignity. So unlike the deceptions he was hearing now.

 

Zoro's eyes sharpened. “It's none of my business,” he said evenly. “Why should I give a damn about you and your sword?”

 

Mouta regarded him quietly for a moment, and there was something like admiration in his gaze that made Zoro scowl. He lost those thoughts when the man next spoke. “Lord Magatou tells me you seek to surpass the legendary Hawk Eyes.”

 

Zoro stiffened a little, his fingers curling tensely against the handle of his sword once more. Ghost was smirking at him now—he'd knock that grin off his face before long. “Wouldn't anyone?”

 

Mouta smirked as well, which didn't improve Zoro's mood any. Thankfully it only lasted a moment. “Several months ago Mihawk returned to this island,” he explained. “The head of the Kurakuda challenged him to a match. No one witnessed their fight, save Kurakuda's heir, and then Mihawk departed.” He hesitated to continue. “No one knows the outcome of their match. We've never recorded an instance when Mihawk was challenged and did not kill his opponent. Kurakuda has not shown himself since then, but our inside man insists that he still lives.”

 

Zoro stared at him a moment, expecting more, but soon realized that they were waiting for his response. He snorted in good humor. “So that's it, isn't it?” he chuckled darkly. “If I help you slaughter an innocent clan, you'll give me Kurakuda. If he's even still alive.”

 

“It's not such a bad deal, is it?” Ghost said on his left. “Even if Aoyama is weak they're still an Oyomi clan—you'll enjoy yourself. And afterwards, you'll have your chance at the only man to have ever survived the greatest swordsman in the world.”

 

The scar across Zoro's chest seemed to tingle at that remark, but he had no intention of correcting them; he was too busy absorbing all they'd said, wondering…if that was the truth. And if it was, why Mihawk might have spared him. Meeting Kurakuda might give him the answer to that.

 

Zoro sighed; he didn't like it, but if things turned out badly he could always just refuse to fight once they were there. But he was admittedly interested in testing himself against more of these samurai, and in a way, he would be aiding Master Ohtori….

 

“All right,” he answered at last, shaking his head. “I'll come with you. But I won't make any promises, you understand? I'll fight when I feel like it, and I don't give a damn about you or this island.”

 

Mouta nodded once, deeply. “Yes, Rolonoah. I understand.”

 

He pushed to his feet and Zoro did the same, just as the half dozen men who had been spying on them this entire time began to slide into view. Zoro's gaze flickered over them cautiously, and paused when he came upon a familiar figure held at one of the man's side. “What's he doing here?”

 

Bravis smiled sheepishly, looking as if he were hiding a wince from the heavy hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Zoro. Um….”

 

“He's insurance,” Ghost declared, sauntering over to the boy to slap him lightly on the cheek. “To make sure I last long enough to finish my business. Besides, he's got business with Oyomitou, too. Ain't that right?”

 

Bravis ducked his head slightly. “Sorry, Zoro,” he said sheepishly. “Getting you dragged into this….”

 

Zoro rolled his eyes. “I've been through it before. When do we leave?”

 

“Now,” Mouta answered, retrieving his sword. “We need to gather with our main force and prepare.” He turned, and with a wave of his hand the six other men turned to depart ahead of them, Bravis in tow. “We'll have to go on foot.”

 

Zoro snorted lightly. “Whatever.” He took a step after them, but then paused, glancing back through the trees towards the shore and Going Merry beyond. He frowned.

 

Ghost glanced at him, his eyes sharp. “Aren't you gonna tell them where you're going?”

 

Zoro hesitated, and after a moment shook his head and started after the group. “Doesn't matter,” he muttered. Luffy wouldn't care, whatever he decided, but telling the others might lead to problems he didn't feel like dealing with. “We can't leave until the Logue Pose resets anyway,” he reasoned as he fell into step just behind the Ghost. “I'll meet up with them later. This doesn't have anything to do with them.”

 

“Of course.” Ghost laughed harshly, shaking his head. “I knew I liked you, Rolonoah Zoro.”

 

Zoro snorted. He forced himself not to look back as he continued with them deeper into the forest.