Work Text:
There is a cold spot on the Sunny, felt in closing doors and strategically distanced seats in the mess hall; something that a stranger to the crew would likely never notice. The shift is miniscule, barely big enough to notice that something’s off; like a room’s furniture all moved one inch to the left. It’s an unpleasant truth, one that some are happier ignoring; some blissfully ignorant; others all too aware. Zoro and Usopp are avoiding each other.
It isn’t blatant, nor harsh. They’ve laughed together, since the ship left Water 7; they’ve had moments where things felt normal again, if briefly, light-hearted banter, laughing at something stupid Luffy did. But something about it is markedly different, at least in the feeling behind it; on the surface, things seem the same. If an outsider were to look in on those moments, they might say the two had returned to normal, but underneath— Zoro feels it, and Usopp does too. There is a guard up, one that wasn’t there before. A measured distance; an arm’s length. A level of trust has cracked on both ends.
“Are you happy he’s back?”
Zoro opens one eye lazily, glancing at her, before closing it again. “What are you talking about?”
His eyes are closed, but he can still see Robin, feel her eyes on him. Piercing. Patient.
“You know what I’m talking about, Zoro-kun.”
Silence. A seagull, calling overhead; the sound of the waves. The sea is calm today, the sunlight hot against Zoro’s tan skin.
“Of course I’m glad he’s back.” It’s a stupid question, one he doesn’t want to dignify with a lengthy response.
More silence. He can still feel Robin’s gaze, unreadable, level; she’s waiting for more. He debates just staying quiet, going back to sleep and ending the conversation, but decides against it.
“Is there something else you want?”
“I know you aren’t as unobservant as you pretend to be, Zoro-kun,” she says evenly. Still nothing; Robin wants something to give in. If she were anyone else, Zoro might have conceded, but something about Robin’s approach makes him want to hear her say it. See if she’ll press the matter further, or let it go, pretend this conversation hadn’t happened. Zoro’s nature makes him want to test the tensile strength of things like this, in some kind of strange urge that he can’t seem to shake. To push them as far as they’ll go, checking the boundaries. He doesn’t know why. It’s just instinct.
Robin, he thinks, has picked up on that.
“All right.” There’s a shuffling as she shifts her position, resting her hands in her lap. “I think that you and Usopp-kun are walking on eggshells around each other, and something has been amiss between you since we set sail. Do you disagree?”
Zoro’s eyes open, flicking towards her. “...I don’t.”
Robin nods at him, then hesitates, as if choosing her next words carefully.
“Zoro-kun, I understand if you think this is none of my business. But as a member of the crew, and this being a crew matter, I think it should be addressed. I don’t believe it’s in anyone’s best interest for you to avoid each other.”
“I’m not really avoiding him,” Zoro says, not dishonestly. “It’s more that he’s avoiding me.”
“Yes.” Robin nods. “Have you thought of why that is?”
A shrug. “He’s embarrassed.”
“Yes.”
“He’ll get over it eventually.”
“Possibly,” Robin agrees. “But there’s also a risk that the trust between you won’t recover.”
Zoro eyes her, expression neutral. She continues.
“You and Usopp-kun do not think in the same way. Miscommunications can lead to far bigger issues later on, if the situation isn’t fully understood by both parties.”
“You think he doesn’t understand?”
“I think he understands in a way different from you, Zoro-kun.”
Zoro grunts affirmatively. He’s not so sure what her point is.
“If he understands, then he understands. Does it matter how he gets there?”
Robin pauses, then, looking pensive. There’s a small silence; a cool breeze brushes Zoro’s skin as the ship passes under a cloud, blocking the sunlight. Then the warmth returns.
“Zoro. Are you still angry at him?”
More silence. Zoro meets her eyes, and neither of them break for a long while. It’s not hostile; it’s simply foreign. Robin is very hard to read, Zoro thinks. Eventually, he looks away.
“Does it matter? What’s done is done. He apologised. He came back.”
“I think it does matter, yes. Forgiveness and apology aren’t linked. It’s understandable if your trust in him is still damaged, even if formally, the matter has been closed.” She gives him a patient look; Zoro takes the words quietly, not formulating an answer right away. “Zoro, if you still have lingering feelings about this, you should tell him, not bottle them up. It may instil resentment in both of you, which compromises the integrity of the crew. And from what I gather, the crew’s integrity is something very important to you. Am I wrong?”
“No,” Zoro replies. Robin nods.
“Then, I think the two of you should resolve your issues, privately, and with patience. I have spoken to Usopp-kun about this too, just so you know. I told him, so I’ll tell you the same; I don’t think any good will come of either of you waiting for the other to initiate the discussion. That’s all.”
Zoro nods, swallowing. Robin returns it, and stands up, readying to go. “I thought I owed it to you to say what’s on my mind. I apologise if I’ve overstepped my bounds.”
“You haven’t,” Zoro says, and he means it. Robin nods, and turns; Zoro sits up.
“Robin.” She glances back over her shoulder. “...Thank you. For your honesty.”
She smiles, and then she’s gone.
***
The sky is as calm at night as it had been during the day, the sea air warm and buttery against the skin; the cool breezes pleasant, rather than a nuisance. Zoro looks at the stars from time to time, his hands idle; normally he gets restless if he does nothing on his watch, preferring to clean and sharpen his swords, or get in some extra training while the hours whittle by. Tonight, though, he feels content to sit and think. Rumination doesn’t normally come to him easily.
He knows it’s going to be Usopp who takes his watch, somehow, as the hour rolls over to three o’clock; they haven’t decided on a new rota yet, since the arrival of Franky, but still, somehow Zoro knows. Sure enough, it’s those familiar, furtive, slightly clumsy footsteps that sound up the cabin stairs a minute or two later.
Usopp seems to share that hunch, too; Zoro doesn’t detect any hesitation, any discernible reaction from Usopp as he appears on the deck, just acknowledgement. Yeah, that’s what I thought.
“Hey,” Usopp says, quietly. Zoro grunts his usual greeting, nodding.
“It’s, uh. I’ll take watch, so…”
“It’s fine.”
“Huh?”
Zoro feels Robin’s eyes on him, somehow, though he knows she’s asleep in the dorms. He pushes the thought from his mind.
“It’s fine, I don’t mind. I’m not that tired, so you can go back to sleep.”
Usopp pauses, looking unsure (though, Usopp always looked unsure.) He hesitates for a long moment, then steps back.
“Uh… okay, if you’re sure. Goodnight, then.”
“Night.”
The footsteps sputter, one at a time at an odd pace, as they recede. Then they stop before they descend the stairs.
“Zoro—”
“It wasn’t fair of you to leave.”
And there it is. Out. No turning back, now.
Usopp takes a breath, like he’s steeling himself, and comes back.
“I said I was sorry, Zoro.”
“Yeah, because you had to.”
Usopp glances at him, his hands tensing. Zoro doesn’t flinch. “I know you. You’ll say anything to get out of trouble, to try and get people to like you.”
Usopp is quiet for a moment; there’s a minuscule flare in his eyes that suggests a rise in temper, indignant, defensive; but it’s gone as soon as it comes. Instead, he looks away, hurt.
“I don’t want to fight any more, Zoro.”
“I’m not trying to fight.”
“Yeah, well, it feels like it.” Usopp makes a move to leave, taking a step away from the ship’s rails, but Zoro reaches out and catches him by the wrist. Usopp’s so surprised by Zoro initiating contact with him that he stops, and lets himself be pulled back.
“Honestly,” Zoro says seriously. “I’m not trying to insult you.”
“What, by calling me a liar? I get it, Zoro, I’m cowardly, I’ll do anything to save my skin!”
“I’m serious, Usopp. That’s not what I meant.”
Usopp folds his arms, holding his elbows; defensive body language. He looks at Zoro expectantly, biting his lip.
“I’m saying that you didn’t have a choice but to apologise, since staying behind wasn’t an option. So, you had to.”
“Okay,” Usopp says, slowly. “So what was the point in making me do it?”
“Leaving the crew isn’t a game.”
“I know it isn’t! What do you want from me, Zoro? Another apology? Haven’t I swallowed my pride enough for—”
“Calm down.”
Usopp looks angry, for a moment, then he seems to catch himself. Zoro wonders if he can feel Robin’s imaginary gaze, too. He swallows, tenses, then relaxes.
“Okay. I’m— I’m sorry.”
Zoro nods, and waits a moment, until he’s sure things have settled. Then he continues.
“That formality was important. We aren’t just a group of nakama, we’re a pirate crew. You left, and then you got caught. If the situation was more serious, that could’ve resulted in someone’s death. Any of us.”
Usopp opens his mouth to say something, but Zoro holds up his hand. “Don’t defend yourself, and don’t apologise any more. Just hear me out.”
Usopp’s lip shakes, but he bites it and looks down at his feet.
“I was harsh,” Zoro says, “Because I had to be. If I hadn’t, Luffy would’ve let you come back without a word, and swept this whole thing under the rug. Luffy is wild, and independent, and does what he wants. But if I let him do that, this crew would’ve been compromised. People were watching, Usopp. They would have taken it as a sign that we aren’t serious. That we don’t respect the captain. It would have made us a target. I’ve seen pirate crews fall apart over less.
So, you had to own up to leaving. And everyone had to see it. And the only way I knew I could get that for sure was if there was no other option.”
Usopp’s shoulders are hunched. He leans against the ship’s rails, looking small.
“Zoro, was that more important to you than my life?”
“I have to put everyone’s safety above one of us individually. It’s my responsibility, Usopp. I’m first mate.”
“You’re dodging the question.”
“I answered it. I’m sorry.”
Usopp swallows, and nods.
“Okay,” he says, quietly.
Zoro isn’t the coddling type, and he doesn’t dwell. He says whatever he thinks needs saying in the most efficient way he can think of at the time, and doesn’t analyse it any more than that. The world he comes from is more disciplined than the one Usopp comes from. Different values.
“I don’t know if I did it in the best way,” Zoro says. “But it had to be done. Do you understand?”
“Yeah. I understand.”
“Okay.”
Usopp chews the inside of his cheek, and avoids Zoro’s gaze.
“What?”
Usopp seems to recoil. “What?”
“You’re thinking something. Say it.”
“I’m not thinking anything.”
“Don’t bullshit me.”
“I’m not bullshitting.”
“Bullshit.”
Something looks like it snaps inside Usopp, with that; a dam breaking.
“Why, Zoro?! What’s the point? You think my feelings are selfish and weak and immature, and you know what? You’re probably right! So what’s the point in me saying them at all?”
“That isn’t what I said.”
“You don’t need to say it!” Usopp’s bandaged hands clench into fists. “You’re just— you’re a better pirate than me, Zoro! Okay? You know it, I know it, everyone knows it. You all are. The stuff I feel is stupid and irrational, I overreact to things, I’m a crappy crewmate. I get it, okay? I can’t help what I think, but I know when it’s not stuff I should say. I forgot that, that day when Luffy broke the news, because— I don’t know! I don’t have an excuse. Luffy told me to leave, and no one told me to come back. And I’m stupid for trying to justify it with that, too, because I shouldn’t need to be told to come back, because I chose to leave, so I just need to own up to that, it’s not anyone else’s responsibility so— oh, shit. ” Usopp runs his hands across his temples and through his hair, frantic. He clutches his head for a moment, then looks at Zoro suddenly, for what seems like the first time that night. “I mean, do you want me to go on? I can keep talking, if you want. Like more of this bullshit is going to help. Do you want more? I’m sorry I left! I’m sorry I took out my insecurity on you guys, I’m sorry I didn’t respect Luffy’s authority, I’m sorry I forgot that we’re a pirate crew and not just a group of dumb friends! I’m just— sorry! And if I could take it back and undo it, I would! But I can’t, and I don’t know what more there is I can do to make things normal again.”
Zoro’s starting to understand how Usopp had reached the insane conclusion that the crew didn’t want him any more, if this was how his normal thought process worked, and no one normally dug deep enough to check that the right message had got through. Because he doesn’t even know where to start.
“Usopp,” he says slowly. “I don’t think those things. No one here does.”
Usopp seems frustrated, shaking his head; not wanting to hear it. “I get it, Zoro, okay? I shouldn’t have tried to pretend that it didn’t happen ‘cause I was scared of bringing it up again. I should have admitted my mistake sooner, I shouldn’t have put you guys in that position. I brought it on myself, even if I did get left behind. I… I get it. There’s nothing left for me to do or say that would help this.”
“Yes, there is ,” Zoro says, and he can feel himself getting annoyed, now, too. “Usopp, this is where the problem came from! You think those things about yourself, so you assume we all do, too. You haven’t learned anything! If this keeps up, what’s to stop all of this from happening again?!”
“Nothing!” Usopp shouts, tears welling up in his eyes. “Nothing at all! I’m the problem! Not you, not Luffy, not Merry, not the Franky Family, me! ” He shudders a breath, and wipes at his eyes aggressively with his wristband. “I shouldn’t have come back. I put you all in danger, because of this. The way I am. You know that. You shouldn’t have let me come back.”
Zoro just shakes his head, feeling his face twist.
“Responsibility shouldn’t do this to you. Taking responsibility. It shouldn’t make you react like this.” It’s a neutral statement, not a criticism.
Usopp draws in a breath sharply, and lets out an abrupt, bitter laugh. “You think I don’t know that?”
“No,” Zoro says. “It’s just… not something I noticed before.”
Usopp laughs again, weakly, but says nothing, calming himself down by way of resting his face in his hands. Zoro thinks before he talks again, resisting the usual wave of frustration that came with problems he couldn’t solve.
“I’m not talking about blame,” he tries, slowly; testing the words like he’s dipping his toes into water. “I’m talking about responsibility. There is a difference.”
“Is there?”
“Yeah. I’m not saying that you were stupid or wrong. I wouldn’t have you undo it, if we could go back.”
Usopp lifts his head to blink at him, baffled. Zoro’s finding momentum, now.
“If you hadn’t argued, and we’d destroyed her then, Merry wouldn’t have been there to save us from Enies Lobby. We could have all died in the sea, if Merry hadn’t come. So that’s on you, too. All your fault.”
Usopp risks eye contact with him, though he breaks it off almost immediately. A nervous laugh.
“Do you see what I mean?”
“I guess so,” Usopp mumbles.
“Responsibility scares you. I get it. You’re afraid of making mistakes. But you get credit, too. That’s part of being brave.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Better than being insignificant, anyway.”
“I suppose.” Usopp looks at his feet. “But I’m still sorry.”
“...I know.”
A terse silence. Usopp sniffles, trying to muster the same level of composure as Zoro. Failing, but it’s a good effort.
“Are we okay?” he asks, impossibly quiet. Pleading, almost.
“If I said yes, would you believe me?”
“...Probably not.”
For some reason Zoro can’t put his finger on, he feels himself give Usopp a small, sad smile.
“Then I guess we aren’t.”
“...Yeah. I guess not.”
They’re both quiet for a moment. Then, quite suddenly, Usopp lets out a choked sob, just the one, like he’s been punched, and his hand slams up over his mouth. He holds in the noise from then on, but Zoro can see the tears have started again.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice breaking. “I just— I hate this.”
“It does feel shitty,” Zoro agrees.
Usopp draws in a shaky breath, nodding. Then he laughs, weakly, through the tears. “Shows what Robin knows, huh?”
Zoro grins, too, exhaling in place of a real laugh. “Yeah.”
It hurts. It hurts something inside Zoro that he hasn’t felt in a long time.
“It hurts,” Zoro says.
“It really hurts. It… it hurts so much.”
“...Yeah.”
More quiet. A wave rushes against the side of the ship below them, and Usopp stops pretending he’s not crying. He sinks against the railings, his head dropping into his arms, and he cries. Zoro feels something run down his cheek, too.
“This hasn’t fixed things, has it?” Usopp asks, after a few minutes have passed. It’s rhetorical. “Things still aren’t the same.”
“I don’t think they’re ever going to be,” Zoro says, truthfully.
“...Is that okay?”
“I don’t know.”
“Me neither.”
They lean against the railing, and watch the stars. The sky’s starting to lighten, now.
“I’m still glad we talked, though. Even if it didn’t fix anything.”
“I think it fixed something,” Zoro says.
“Not everything, though.”
“No. Not everything.”
Usopp sighs, resting his chin on his palms; Zoro takes a few steps back, sinking to sit hunched on the lawn, Usopp following suit. They're quiet for a little while, staring at the stars, sat side by side; just an inch apart. And then, very tentatively — hesitant and unsure, like he always was — Usopp slowly leans his head against Zoro's shoulder. And they stay like that.
“Something’s good, though.”
“Yeah.” Zoro smiles. “Something’s good.”
