Chapter Text
Darkness is engulfing the entire room when Zoro comes to, taking him a second to realize that he’s actually opened his eyes. He looks at his nightstand and the blinking red numbers on the digital clock tell him that it’s almost midnight, which means he’s slept the whole evening. Again.
The new batch of kids he’s teaching at the dojo are equal parts sugar, caffeine, and zero attention span; the stage parents yapping around him don’t help either. He has asked Koshiro to tell the parents to keep their children in check and to kindly fuck off when classes are ongoing, but he still has yet to see them actually following it.
At this point, Zoro’s only holding onto his job because he feels terrible leaving Koshiro all by himself. The man is getting old and there’s no way he’d be able to handle those little monsters on his own.
Groaning, he sits up and rubs the sleepiness off his eyes. His muscles ache, but it’s nothing he can’t handle—he’s had worse during his early years at the dojo. The mental fatigue, however, that’s quite something else. He feels like his head is about to split at any given moment even after all the sleep he’s had.
He comes out of his room and finds that the lights in the kitchen are on. There’s a shuffling of movement, familiar and sluggish with sleep, before there’s an echoing clang from a pot, so loud it probably woke everyone in the building.
“Oh. Come on!” whines a familiar voice.
Zoro can’t help but shake his head as he rounds the corner to the kitchen. Luffy stands before the counter, hair and clothes still disheveled from sleep. He’s having a hard time turning on the stove, which says a lot about his current state because an induction is only supposed to take one press to turn on and not several aggressive taps like what he’s doing now.
“Luffy, what are you doing?” he asks, letting his presence be known.
Luffy doesn’t seem to be surprised that he’s awake, only heaving a sigh at his predicament with the stove. His shoulders slump as he finally gives up, a pout forming on his lips. “I’m trying to cook ramen. Did I wake you?”
There’s an opened packet on the counter, some noodle bits strewn on the floor, and a pot that has already been filled with too much water. The only thing left now is for the stove to turn on, but Luffy still can’t work his way around it. Zoro wonders how long he’s been having this problem.
“No,” Zoro answers. “You know, Sanji is gonna kill me when he finds out you’ve been eating instant ramen again.”
“Don’t care. I’m hungry,” Luffy grumbles. He sounds so close to crying that Zoro can’t help but walk up behind him and try his own luck with the stove.
While he messes with the appliance, Luffy leans back against him, his head falling back to rest on Zoro’s shoulder. Zoro keeps a hand on Luffy’s waist just to make sure the man is not going to fall over due to the apparent lack of sustenance.
It takes him more than a few presses but he manages to make the induction beep to life. Luffy perks up, but Zoro doesn’t step back just yet. It really feels like Luffy needs the support right now, especially with the way he’s still leaning heavily, and Zoro doesn’t really want him to collapse on the floor.
“I knew it’s still working,” Luffy says, his voice now laced with relief.
But then Zoro turns the stove off again. Luffy turns to him with a frown, probably to shout at him, but Zoro beats him to it. “Come on. Go get your hoodie. You’re not eating ramen tonight.”
The frown on Luffy’s face drops in an instant, replaced by a wide grin, stars practically shining in his eyes. “Ooh. We’re going out?”
Zoro chuckles at the sudden turnaround of his mood. He pats Luffy’s curls into place though it doesn’t really do anything as they only bounce back unkempt. “Yeah. I think the stove is faulty so I’ll ask Usopp to take a look at it when I see him. Now, let’s go. It’s my treat.”
Aboard Zoro’s pickup truck, they find themselves driving to Cutty Flam’s, one of the few diners in the city that are still open at this ungodly hour. It’s not really something Sanji would recommend in terms of the nutritional value of the food, but Zoro supposes it’s way better than instant ramen.
Besides, Luffy loves the food there, and he’s practically bursting with excitement in his seat, humming to keep himself entertained because the stereo doesn’t work in Zoro’s pickup. He’s also friends with the owner of Cutty Flam’s—a huge guy with eccentric blue hair and a personality to match—so this could be a good time to catch up.
When they arrive there, however, the owner is nowhere to be found, which Zoro totally understands. It’s midnight, for fuck’s sake. Actually, there’s no one in the diner but them and a seemingly bored waiter that Zoro has never seen before. A new employee, he guesses.
Luffy doesn’t seem too disappointed that his friend isn’t around, but despite the smell of grease in the air, he’s still a little bit more listless than usual. Another warning that Zoro mentally jots down because even the smell of food should energize Luffy as a Redbull would to a man
Zoro settles down in a booth beside the window, while Luffy excuses himself to have a quick bathroom break. The waiter comes with a laminated menu, smiling at Zoro and batting his eyelashes as if he’s not a second away from sleeping earlier.
“Hi. Welcome to Cutty Flam’s,” the waiter drawls to which Zoro raises his eyebrows.
Because for one, they don’t do greetings in this establishment. Not like that, with a voice too slow and almost fake. Second, the waiter is batting his eyelashes at him, giving him that look that is more appropriate when he’s having a night out, and Zoro isn’t dumb. He knows what’s going on right now.
“Uh,” he says, picking up the menu. Though he doesn’t really bother to read it; the order is already etched in his mind like a muscle memory. “One Super Special Cutty Flam, extra meat, extra sauce, fries for the sides, make it large. One Battle Frankies, platter, make it not spicy, also extra special sauce. One Super Chocolate milkshake, extra syrup. And, oh, also one slice of chocolate cake if that’s available.”
The waiter stares at him, impressed, though Zoro’s more impressed that he’s able to write all of that down without a pause or any questions. “Wow. You have quite an appetite…”
He leaves the question hanging, and Zoro knows what the man is waiting for. If the eyebrow wiggling isn’t an obvious indication then Zoro doesn’t know what. “S-Sanji. Um, the name’s Sanji,” he says a beat a little too late. He can tell the waiter is having his doubts, but the man smiles at him anyway.
“Sanji. Nice name,” the waiter says, nodding. He taps his pen on the nameplate attached to his uniform. “I’m Chris, by the way.”
Zoro nods. “I see.”
“So,” Chris says, still smiling, leaning on the table with one hand, eyelashes fluttering again. “Will that be all?”
Before Zoro can respond, the door to the bathroom opens and Luffy comes out in slow strides. Zoro adjusts in his seat, an arm already around the booth as Luffy makes a beeline towards him, not even noticing the waiter. Luffy slumps down with a huff, the upholstery squeaking as he wiggles to immediately lean into Zoro’s waiting, open arm, tucking his face into Zoro’s chest.
Zoro rubs a thumb on his shoulder without a word, Luffy’s curls tickling his cheek, the smell of his ocean-scented shampoo wafting into his nose. And yeah, maybe Zoro has forgotten that the waiter is still with them, gaze shifting between them, and has to clear his throat to catch their attention.
“Um, yeah, that will be all,” Zoro tells him. Luffy is leaning against him so comfortably that Zoro’s afraid a small movement might disrupt that, so now, he is sitting very still, and he can already feel his back ache.
“Alright,” the waiter, Chris, says. He gives Zoro a wide smile, different from the one before as if he knows something that Zoro doesn’t. Though Zoro can’t really bother to think about it because as soon as the waiter leaves, he turns his attention to Luffy.
Who’s still sulking, unmoving. And yeah, this isn’t just one of those typical hunger episodes he gets in the middle of the night. Zoro has known Luffy for six years now—honestly, feels even more when he thinks about it, their lives entangled ever since they met—and he can only count on one hand the times he’s seen Luffy this gloomy.
Most of which involves his family, so Zoro bets there’s a high chance that the current situation also involves Luffy’s grandfather. Probably. Or maybe his father, but that’s as rare as finding healthy food in this diner.
“What is it? Wanna talk about it?” Zoro asks, now drawing circles on Luffy’s shoulder.
His question is met with silence, and for a moment, he thinks that maybe Luffy isn’t in the mood to talk right now. But then Luffy shifts, pulls away until he slips from Zoro’s arm, the diner somewhat growing cold despite the jacket Zoro is wearing. Luffy leans on the table instead, pouting with his head hanging off his shoulders.
“Grandpa called,” Luffy mumbles.
Right on the bullseye.
Zoro hums. “Yeah? What’d he say now?”
“He wants me to come home for my birthday.” Luffy groans and lets his head fall back on the booth. He blinks up at the ceiling, which is clean and smooth to Zoro’s surprise.
“And are you?”
“No,” Luffy says, adamant. There’s a scowl on his face that Zoro normally doesn't see. “Usopp and I have already planned my birthday party. I’m not ditching that for Grandpa. My brothers aren’t even there anyway.”
This—Zoro already expects as much. Luffy doesn’t have the greatest relationship with his grandfather; the man is a retired Marine officer, and his strict authoritative attitude doesn’t really bode well with someone like Luffy, who’s too carefree and adventurous to be confined in a fancy gated community and be controlled into becoming a Marine officer himself. Plus, Luffy’s grandfather wasn't really present when he was growing up, though it seems like the old man is suddenly trying to change that now.
Even though Luffy has grown not to care much about his grandfather, interacting with the old man still leaves him grumpy and glum, especially when it all turns into a screaming match over the phone. Luffy isn’t just the type to argue with people, especially with words, so things like that often take too much energy from him.
As if on cue, Luffy flops against him once more with a low whine, and Zoro goes back to his previous position, back straight and one arm around Luffy, thumb rubbing circles against the clothed shoulder mindlessly.
Not wanting to prod any further, Zoro changes the subject instead. “So, your birthday. What did you and Usopp have in mind?”
Luffy brightens at that, his voice becoming louder, almost back to how it usually is. Zoro already has relaxed and prepared himself to listen. “So we have three things we want to do. First is Sabaody Park, but we already went to an amusement park on my last birthday so I don’t know about that.”
“We can always go as many times you want, you know,” Zoro replies.
“I know,” Luffy says, then shrugs. “But I don’t know. I feel like I want something different this time. Which brings me to the second thing. Kaya’s lake house. Usopp says we can stay there for a few days and swim at the lake and go fishing, but Nami’s kinda against it because she says we’d be bothering Kaya and I can’t swim.”
Nami has a point. Luffy is a terrible swimmer, can't even get himself to float no matter how hard he tries, which is a bit ridiculous if you consider the fact that his grandfather wants him to be a Marine. They tried to teach Luffy how to swim when they went to the beach one summer, but all they got was a drowning scare so Luffy had to be on a floaty, and well-supervised, at all times.
Humming, Zoro asks, “And the third?”
“We go to Wild Cherry,” Luffy says simply.
Zoro backtracks, eyebrows shooting up his forehead because where the hell did that come from? “Is that Usopp’s idea?”
Luffy grins. “Yeah! But I also want to go too. Dunno, it looks fun.”
Fun in Luffy’s book is quite different, and Zoro knows for a fact that that doesn’t include partying at one of the most notorious underground bars and gambling dens in the city. For Luffy, fun means something adventurous—probably an outdoor activity of some sort that leaves him exhausted with aching muscles the next day—definitely not drinking and partying and gambling. That’s more of Zoro’s thing.
“You sure about that? You can’t really handle alcohol well,” Zoro reminds him.
“I know,” Luffy says with a purse on his lips. “But I want to visit all the popular establishments in the city so I gotta check that off my bucket list anyway. Plus, Usopp and Nami taught me how to play this card game last week and I won against them. Every time! Kinda want to do that in a real gambling den.”
“Gambling dens involve real money, Luffy.”
“Hey! I won real money against Usopp and Nami!”
Now, this causes Zoro to laugh, his head throwing back. “Usopp, yeah, I’ll give you that. But Nami? You won against Nami in a game that involves real money?”
Luffy looks up at him with a glare. “I really did! That’s why I was able to buy new tanks for Merry and Sunny.”
Merry and Sunny are Luffy’s precious Atlas and Hercules beetles that he keeps as pets back in the apartment. Zoro did notice that their tanks were bigger when he fed them last week so it must be really true then. Besides, Luffy can’t lie to save his life, so it’s either he was deceived into thinking he had won or he really did win money against Nami. Either way, Zoro still feels incredulous at the thought of it.
“Damn. You really got some luck, huh?” Zoro says, whistling. He pulls a strand of Luffy’s hair, watching it straighten out before letting it curl back again with a bounce. “Maybe we should go to Wild Cherry on your birthday and test it out.”
“That’s what I’m saying! See? You get me, Zoro.” Luffy’s giggle echoes in the empty diner, and Zoro can’t help but laugh along too.
Then Luffy tells him some more ideas for his birthday—playing laser tag, roller skating because Luffy insists that he can do it now without Zoro’s help, and something about visiting a horror house, which Zoro knows Usopp is definitely against.
Before they know it, the waiter comes back with their order. Only then does Luffy finally pull away from him, a huge grin splayed on his lips. He’s nearly foaming at the mouth, eyes turning into the shape of hearts as the plates are placed on the table one by one. He looks at everything intently, almost like he’s already eating them in his head, then he suddenly turns to Zoro with a confused look.
“Zoro, you didn’t order anything for yourself?”
“Nah. I’m good,” Zoro says. He catches Chris’ eyes as the final plate is set down and finds an eyebrow raised at him, very much intrigued and curious. Zoro ignores it, turns back to Luffy, who’s still looking at him, and gives the man a smile. “You should eat up, Luffy.”
As Chris leaves the two of them alone again, Luffy starts to dig in. Eating doesn’t really stop him from talking so after he’s taken several huge bites, which can definitely impress any professional speed-eating contestant, he’s telling Zoro about his work. Zoro leans against the window, listening intently and watching Luffy wolf down his food like there’s no tomorrow.
Luffy has a thing for getting fired a week into a job, but his current one is his longest so far. A record-breaking five months, which is mighty impressive and not really surprising when you consider the fact that it doesn’t make him stay in one place for once. The job has him running around the city, doing deliveries for old people living in the suburbs. Though sometimes, they ask him to do more stuff outside the whole delivery thing—they pay extra, of course, and boy, do they pay well—so he’s basically like an errand boy at this point.
Now, he tells Zoro about how he did gardening at this one fancy house and how he may or may have not fucked up a few flowerbeds and bushes. It’s alright though, the owner doesn’t really mind and is patient enough to teach Luffy even if he doesn’t really get it.
See, the thing is, these old people are often unmarried, divorced, or widowed, living such lonely lives in the comfort of their huge homes with their next of kin too busy hundreds of kilometers away to even have time for them. Luffy’s bright and energetic nature alleviates most of the loneliness, keeps them entertained in exchange for some measly cash that they won’t have time to spend on and food that they won’t have someone to eat with.
It’s quite amazing how Luffy gets along with them so well, even with those grumpy ones who would yell at people for even whispering on the train. At this point, Usopp calling Luffy the adopted grandson of the entire geriatric community isn’t far off because he really is.
Zoro totally gets it. Luffy just has that kind of effect. Brings warmth and hope with his presence alone. It’s another matter when he starts talking about dreams and the impossible; how he wants to visit every country in the world and just have fun and be the freest man to ever exist. A childish dream, some may say. Unrealistic. But to the eyes of these old people, who only have little time left to enjoy such things, Luffy already is living the dream.
“So,” Luffy says as he finishes a story about spiders that he caught while he was cleaning up an old woman’s garage. He moves onto the chocolate cake, takes a piece, and silently offers it to Zoro. “How’s your day, Zoro? You slept the entire evening!”
He’s not really hungry though Zoro takes a bite anyway before he can think of it. The cake is rich and too sweet for his liking, but he finds himself savoring the dessert on his tongue longer than he usually does.
“Oh, you’re not gonna believe this,” Zoro says, chuckling. “One of the kids tried to wield Wado Ichimonji. I looked away for one second—one second! And the next thing I know, he’s trying to take the sword out of the sheath.”
Luffy laughs, full and loud, bringing the whole diner to life. “Didn’t you also try to take Wado Itchy Monkey when you were a kid?”
“I didn’t take it. I asked permission,” says Zoro in defense, also a little bit surprised that Luffy remembers that story. He did ask permission from Koshiro, but no, it very much did not end well. “And I told you, it’s Wado Ichimonji.”
“Eh, Wado Itchy Monkey sounds better.”
Zoro can only shake his head, can’t prevent the way his lips pull into a smile. Only Luffy would call a famous sword by a random silly name, all because he thinks it sounds better. And yeah, maybe, Wado Itchy Monkey does catch on, but that’s something Zoro will never admit out loud.
The diner continues to be filled with laughter and stories as Luffy finishes his meal. Not a single crumb left behind. Under the bright lights of the diner, humming and buzzing over their chatter, Zoro sees how the tension and unease fade away from Luffy’s face. Zoro feels his own chest relax, more than relieved to see Luffy smile again.
After paying for the bill, they turn to leave, but not before Zoro catches Chris’ eyes again. He has his eyebrows raised, lips pursed in a way that seems like he’s impressed. By what, Zoro can’t figure it out—he doesn’t really care. Though when he passes by the waiter, Chris giggles and whispers at him.
“Really nice catch. He’s cute.”
He only blinks at that, the words flying over his head as he steps out of the diner. He doesn’t get the time to really think it through because Luffy is speeding towards his pickup, arms spread and laughing as if he just didn’t eat a meal good for five people.
Luffy climbs up the back, the truck slightly rocking due to his unrestrained movements. He turns to Zoro with a grin, and Zoro is already shaking his head in response, knowing what Luffy wants.
“C’mon, Zoro!” Luffy whines, pouting.
“You are not riding there in the back,” Zoro says.
“I’ll hold on tightly. I promise!”
And he’s not going to lie, Zoro almost agrees because Luffy is giving him that look. That cursed pleading look that makes his eyes shine even in the middle of the night. At this point, there’s no way Luffy doesn’t know that no one can say no to that look—he has to be doing this on purpose.
Fortunately, Zoro is thinking clearly enough not to give in, still rational enough to have warnings blaring in his mind. The last time Luffy rode in the back of his truck, he almost fell, and that was when he was with Usopp to keep him in check. As adventurous as he is, Luffy does have the habit of getting himself into dangerous situations. Leaving Luffy in the back all by himself smells like a disaster, and Zoro’s not having it on his watch.
“We’ll do it next time, I’ll ask Sanji to drive for us. I promise,” Zoro says. Luffy’s face drops but then the thought of doing it next time with Zoro seems to make him consider, humming as he thinks. And so Zoro adds, “I’ll open the windows so you can do what you want inside. With a seatbelt on.”
“Alright,” Luffy says with a shrug. Always easy to compromise. He then jumps down from the pickup and rounds to the passenger side, opening the door before Zoro can even get his keys.
Once inside, Zoro fulfills his promise and rolls down the windows. The midnight air is cold, the wind stinging his lungs a bit, but he forgets all about it as he speeds down the empty streets, Luffy sticking his head out the window as much as the seat belt allows, his hair flailing around behind him.
With Luffy in his line of sight, Zoro isn’t afraid to go just a tad bit faster, smiling as Luffy whoops, screaming at the top of his lungs, putting his arm outside to hug back the rushing wind. If Zoro slams his foot down, going past what law normally allows, just to make Luffy’s smile wider, then that’s nobody else’s business but his.
They got home in one piece, Luffy’s hair sticking into every direction that Zoro’s hand couldn’t even pat down. The kitchen lights are still on, and there are still ramen crumbs on the floor, but Zoro decides to just clean it first thing in the morning, sleepiness coming back to him as he yawns.
“Hey, Zoro,” Luffy says. He’s standing in the middle of the living area, the lights from the kitchen on the other side of the room illuminating his smile just right. Only then Zoro notices that the hoodie he’s wearing is bigger, hanging on his frame, with a faded Isshin Dojo printed on the chest. It’s no wonder Zoro hasn’t seen that for a while now.
“You good?” Zoro asks, stepping forward to see his face better.
Luffy nods eagerly, smile growing wider. “Thank you for tonight.”
“Yeah,” Zoro says, the taste of the chocolate cake still thick on his tongue somehow. “No problem. Somebody has to make sure you’re eating real food.”
The laughter that Luffy emits is almost as bright as the kitchen lights, if not more. Zoro can’t help but laugh along too, their voices filling all the dark nooks and crannies of the apartment.
When silence comes back, it’s quite heavy and deafening. Luffy stares at him, his gaze like an open book, and Zoro feels his breath hitch. If Luffy notices then he doesn’t say anything about it, still continuing to stare at Zoro with parted lips, waiting and barely holding back. A moment that has already been played out before, and the conclusion is just the same as it was years ago.
Zoro steps back, puts a good distance between them. Feels his throat contract as the look on Luffy’s face falters, quickly covered with a smile, gleaming and looking right, but Zoro knows that it doesn’t even compare with his usual ones. Zoro wants to speak but there’s really nothing else to say.
“Good night, Zoro,” Luffy says, his voice soft.
“Um, yeah. Good night, Luffy.”
Then Luffy leaves to go to his bedroom, and Zoro finds the soft click of his door closing too loud. It takes him a few more moments before he takes a deep breath and turns towards his room, the night turning colder than it already is.
+ + +
Zoro dreams.
He dreams of a full moon, huge and glowing in the clear night sky. A balcony hanging over the sleeping city, the air warm despite the late hour. A can of beer in his hand as he looks over the view, enjoying the silence of his own little bubble, the buzz of his friends faint inside Nami’s new apartment.
He dreams.
Of someone joining him, invading his space, and he welcomes it with a smile, the little bubble expanding to what’s left of the balcony to fit the two of them. The silence is now replaced by a conversation that’s too light and silly for the ambiance, but it doesn’t really matter—that’s how they prefer it.
He dreams.
He’s standing on the balcony, their friends now out of sight to make popcorn in the kitchen, the silence finally prevailing. Luffy is standing before him, staring at him, the bright moon reflecting on his dark eyes like a star. He’s staring, open and waiting and so unreadable at that moment that when he blurts out three words, they shoot right through Zoro’s chest like a bullet, his tongue becoming dry, voice strangled in his throat.
Luffy leans in, but Zoro steps back.
He dreams.
Except it’s not a dream, but a memory from years ago, tucked away, only coming back to haunt him like a nightmare.