Chapter Text
A crescent moon hung high in the clear night sky over the desolate valley; the minimal starlight illuminating the tops of the trees in a faint pale glow. The forest was silent. Birds had long since fled south as the autumn brought with it longer nights and colder air—and a crisp frost caused Zoro’s breath to linger.
This was Zoro’s preferred time to hunt; just enough light to see by, but not enough to give away his position. He sat perched on the branch of the sturdy pine while keeping an absent eye on the road beneath. The person he was waiting for was apparently travelling this way at some point in the next two days.
And he had all the time in the world.
Sprawled lazily against the sturdy trunk, Zoro’s remaining good eye cracked open at the distant clip of horse hooves on dirt. The sound travelled far in the cold air. Ample time to push himself up, then get positioned along the branch while waiting for the stranger to round the bend in the road. He recognized the face instantly from the handbill—and a grin split his face.
He debated how to go about it, before deciding on the tried and true.
As the horse neared, Zoro began counting down quietly in his head before jumping out of the tree. He fell directly beside the horse, and managed to hook an arm around the man’s neck as he passed. Dragging him bodily off the horse – who took off running – as Zoro wrenched the man’s neck over his shoulder with a sickening crack as they both hit the ground.
Holding the position for a moment to ensure the man was dead, Zoro then let go and shoved the body onto the ground while pushing to his feet. He hooked the toe of his boot beneath the man’s body and rolled him onto his back. The man’s wide, dead eyes staring up at the dark sky.
“Hey, Mr. Seven,” Zoro chuckled.
~X~
Dozing to the gentle rocking of his horse, Zoro kept the reins wrapped around his hand and the pommel of the saddle as they trudged down the road together. He stirred occasionally to glance up to check his surroundings, but it was never really necessary.
She always led him where he needed to go.
As they rounded the bend on the mountain road, Zoro came out of his stupor with a yawn. He gazed down at the dull glow in the middle of the valley that broke through the dark night. The modest mining town cradled safely in the high mountains of the north.
A short ride down the winding hill had Zoro entering the town of Thousand Mile, and he found his presence was relatively ignored by most of the townsfolk that were out at that hour. The only attention he garnered were the few occasional stares at the dead man slung over the hindquarters of his horse.
Zoro ignored the looks—the criminal’s bounty would keep him fed and drunk for several weeks.
He made his way down the main street until spotting a building. The sign hung from old, rusted hinges above confirmed it was the Sheriff’s. A lantern hung by the front door illuminated the steps in the growing dark, and the dim candlelight through the window confirmed somebody was inside.
Zoro swept his jacket over his hip, then dismounted with a huff.
Reaching out to give the horse a comforting pat and a soft murmur of gratitude, Zoro guided her to the tie bar and looped the reins around twice to be safe. He headed up the front steps, then knocked once to announce himself before pushing inside; the place was entirely empty, except for a desk nearby with the soul occupant—the Sheriff.
A grizzled man – who was clearly younger than his graying hair would purport – nursed a cigar while perusing a book. He glanced up as Zoro entered, but didn’t move. Nor give a greeting. Neither of which was of any consequence to Zoro; he was used to the general ambivalence of the law he did trade with.
Zoro gave a short nod, then dug out his billfold.
Untying and unfolding the leather to retrieve the warrant, then extended it to the sheriff. A moment passed before the man snapped the book shut and tossed it down with a heavy thud. He transferred the cigar over before taking the paper. He smoothed it out, then took his time reading it. Eventually glancing back up at Zoro, “Outside?”
Zoro nodded.
“Dead?”
Zoro nodded again.
With a short nod, the sheriff pushed to his feet – exhaling a grunt that was more exasperation than exhaustion – before following Zoro back outside. Zoro stood by his horse and waited. Allowing the sheriff to take his time to lumber up to the body slung over the back, then place the cigar in his mouth to free up a hand.
Tugging the laces off, the sheriff shucked the flour sack down far enough to get a decent look at the criminal’s face, then glanced down at the warrant again. He let out a satisfied huff, then jerked the bag back into place. He left the laces to sway while gesturing towards the side of the building.
“‘Aight,” the sheriff grunted. “Take ‘im round back and I’ll get your payment.”
Zoro nodded.
As the sheriff headed back inside, Zoro quickly untied the corpse and hefted the limp, rotting body over his shoulder. He made his way round the back of the building, then dumped him against the wall, between a lumber box and a pile of compost. Making his way back around, the sheriff was standing out front with several large bills in hand, “Three hundred.”
Zoro took it, then shuffled through for a quick count.
“Thanks,” Zoro nodded. Adding the money to the billfold before tucking it away again, “Best place for a drink?”
After a cursory glance over Zoro, the sheriff muttered, “The inn waters ‘em. Try the gambling hall a few streets down.”
Zoro paused, before nodding again. Allowing the barest traces of a smile, “Much obliged.”
The sheriff tilted the cigar, then headed inside.
Turning back to his horse, Zoro cradled her jaw while giving a few rewarding rubs along the thick, white hair. She was already noticeably happier without the corpse hanging off her. And Zoro couldn’t blame her—he’d been starting to smell.
“Let's get you something to eat,” Zoro murmured softly. He gave a final pat, then unlooped her reins. Guiding her down the street with a grumble, “And me a drink.”
She whinnied softly.
After a fair bit of wandering – it was arguably a little more than a few streets as the sheriff suggested – Zoro eventually found the bustling pleasure district; the street filled with drunken patrons, crooning courtesans, and sleazy salesmen. The heady musk of sex and satisfaction hovered. Gambling halls, saloons, and bordellos all blended into each other making it difficult to choose, but Zoro eventually settled on one with an elegant lion’s head adorning the front that reminded him of the sun.
Securing the reins to the tie post out front, Zoro took a minute to bid her a farewell, but she was already eating from the provided trough. With a final pat, Zoro made his way up the front steps and pushed his way inside.
A wave of heat washed away the traces of autumn chill that was still clinging to his bones as Zoro slowly meandered through the busy place. The hall was filled with gambling and entertainment. Dancers upon the stage were performing a risque routine; their ruffled skirts flaring and bouncing along with the jaunty tune being plunked away by an old man at the piano.
Many of the men watched the women on stage – hooting and hollering in drunken delight – while others found bliss at the tables of cards, dice, and wheels—and judging from the rooms and the women wandering about there were also courtesans.
Zoro had no such inclinations, but one.
After a cursory glance, Zoro found his vice at the back in the form of a large, well-stocked bar—and allowed himself a smile. He slipped his way through the hall relatively unnoticed; dodging patrons and courtesans. Eventually, making it to the bar where he found it serviced by two barkeeps.
One on the end was a burly man; he wore a colourful shirt that was out of place amid the drab tweed and gray of most of the miners. His large forearms bore some tattoos. And he had splint across his nose that told of a recent fight, but the smile on his face could put a wolverine at ease.
Finding a spot at the bar, Zoro took a seat as he was greeted by the other barkeep. The man was young – about his age – with a dark complexion and darker hair. He had the same warm smile as the other barkeep, and greeted Zoro easily, “Hey, man, what can I get ya?”
“Open a tab,” Zoro instructed, and pulled out a bill to hand him, “Whiskey.”
“Right away,” the man trilled. After tilling the cash, the man immediately poured a large glass – much to Zoro’s chagrin – then handed it over with a smile. The barkeep pointed out astutely, “You ain’t local.”
Zoro shook his head before taking a swig.
“Lemme guess,” the man held out a hand even though Zoro hadn’t been about to speak. He glanced Zoro over a lengthy portion, then snapped and pointed, “Bounty hunter.”
Fairly impressed, Zoro finished his swig, then nodded, “Not bad.”
“Yeah, well,” the man shrugged in an attempt at humility, but his smug showmanship overshadowed it. He grabbed a glass and began filling a pint from the tap. The rush of foamy liquor adding to the stifling ambiance of the gambling hall, “You meet all kinds working a bar, you get to recognizin’ folks, especially strangers passin' through.”
“Mm,” Zoro hummed politely, then finished his swig before setting the glass down, “Dunno if I like being so easily figured out.”
Nabbing a wooden scraper, the barkeep swiped the foam off with a flick, then handed it across the bar, “Here you are, Max. How’s the cards treatin’ ya this evenin’?”
“Bah,” the man waved a flustered hand. His face already rosey from far too much liquor, “‘m ‘lready fucked. Done!”
“Next time for sure,” the barkeep assured as the man stumbled off with a drunken grumble.
Zoro watched the whole exchange silently.
Once out of earshot, the barkeep glanced back at Zoro with a grin; it appeared he had no such reservations about his role in all of this. The more liquor he plied the miners with, the more money the place made at the tables. At the very least Zoro appreciated the honesty of the manipulation…
“Need anything to eat?”
“No,” Zoro grunted, then paused. “Maybe later.”
“Alright,” the barkeep held up his hands. “I can tell you’re not one to be bothered.”
Zoro inclined his head at the roundabout compliment.
“Usopp, by the way,” the barkeep clarified. “Just holler if you need anything—I’ll keep the drinks comin’ though.”
Zoro tilted his glass in gratitude, then settled in to enjoy his solitude.
As promised by the sheriff, the liquor was good and strong, but it was simply to help loosen people’s wallets rather than from a true sense of altruism. Zoro could respect the hustle. It wasn’t like he had a leg to stand on with how he made his money, even if it was within the confines of the law.
Zoro sipped his drink while his gaze wandered the place.
It was a fairly standard gambling hall, but the place ran efficiently; between the two bartenders – and a younger looking kid who ferried food and drinks to tables – everyone in the joint was well taken care of. And there were a healthy amount of courtesans and croupiers to keep every pervert and gambler well occupied.
An older woman with dark hair and a younger with vivid auburn appeared to be in charge; they lingered near the host stand, but it was clear they had eyes on everything that was going on—and neither left the front desk unattended. The younger woman was constantly on the move. Zoro watched her prowl the floor; encouraging liquor onto already drunken men and gambling to those already skint broke.
As expected, it wasn’t long before one of the women – the younger one – set her sights on Zoro after realizing he wasn’t moving from his spot at the bar. He watched out of the corner of his eye the short conversation with Usopp – whom to his credit appeared to be trying to discourage her – before she made her way over.
Zoro purposefully kept his gaze straight ahead as the money hungry demon advanced.
She approached—and Zoro cut her off, “I’m good.”
Taken aback by his tone, Zoro could tell it irked her—and he masked a smile while taking another swig of whiskey. By the time he set the drink down she had recovered, and was playfully waving him down with a saccharine smile and the same salesman tone as the barkeep.
“Now, now, sweety, don’t take me for a snake. I’m just making sure that you’re being taken care of,” she crooned. “We pride ourselves on our hospitality.”
Zoro tilted his glass to indicate the liquor, “I’m taken care of.”
She searched his face for a long moment, before nodding with a satisfied smile, but Zoro could tell she wasn’t about to give up. She was disappointed, but not dissuaded—and Zoro hadn’t seen the last of her.
“Good,” she crooned. “I’m Nami, by the way, you let me know when you need a room—or some company~”
Zoro gave a flat smile, then tilted his drink in gratitude.
She waltzed away as Zoro returned to his drink; he'd barely brought it to his lips before being interrupted for a final time.
A sudden tonal shift had Zoro pausing into his drink, as the jaunty, jovial music of the evening transitioned into something far more sultry. Zoro hadn’t even realized the music had stopped, until it was replaced by the traipsing melody. And Zoro turned with an arm braced on the bar to assess the stage.
Lanterns were dimmed as a woman took to the stage adorned in a gaudy outfit of diamonds and feathers to perform some sort of burlesque. She strutted about to the beat of the song—and swept her feathers in playful waves with every croon of the singer.
Zoro glanced over to find someone else was at the piano now.
A quick glance found the old man from earlier at the end of the bar receiving a drink from the fellow with the broken nose. The two were chatting amiably as a young man took over.
Through dense smog of cigar and cigarette smoke lingering in the air, Zoro could make out a blue-pinstriped shirt – the fabric was starchy and stiff – with the cuffs rolled up around his elbows. His hands skittering across the keys. And the blond hair – dark gold in the dim candlelight – hung low to hide most of his face.
As the man sang, Zoro reluctantly found himself unable to turn away from the husky voice; the timbre like smooth liquor. The man turned to cast a glance over his shoulder at the woman to ensure the timing of his playing was in tune with her. And Zoro got a proper look at the owner of the magnetic voice.
As most of the stage lanterns centered above the woman there was very little to illuminate the man beyond the candlelight, but what Zoro could see was enough. The man was ruggedly handsome and he had a bright smile despite the dim lighting—rougish and charming. And a healthy smattering of stubble along his jaw.
There was something captivating about him – an effortlessness about the way he moved – that was satisfying to watch. Zoro could feel his heartbeat thudding in the back of his throat while watching him. Allowing the dazzling effect to pull him in until before Zoro even knew it, the song had ended.
As the last of the piano’s hum faded to silence, the hall was filled with cheering and hollering—and it was only then Zoro realized the woman was now naked. She walked off stage proudly with several playful winks and delicately blown kisses. All of it performative, but easily lost on the drunk patrons that were waving wistfully after her.
Once she left the stage, the man at the piano began to fill the hall with a whimsical melody—and the regular bustle of the hall returned. The conversation bubbled, the tables returned to their betting, and Zoro turned back to his drink. He had it partially lifted when he noticed the woman – Nami – leaning against the bar next to him with a victorious grin—and – unfortunately – caught Zoro off guard, “Fuck!”
A sinister, conniving look sparkled in her eyes, then she lowered her voice to a purr, “Hi~”
Zoro scowled.
It didn’t deter her in the slightest – and if anything, spurred her on – as her gaze travelled to the stage where the man continued to play. She watched a bit, then turned back to Zoro. An almost compassionate look on her face if not for the obvious scheming in her eyes, “Don’t worry, sugar, we don’t discriminate.”
Zoro prided himself on remaining unflappable.
Without looking away, she crooked her finger to beckon a young man over. He was similar in some regards to the man on stage, but not in the ways that mattered. And Zoro had no intention of parting with his money for pleasant company.
“Not interested,” Zoro grunted.
She sighed and shooed the young man away.
Not letting her have the opportunity to try anything else, Zoro waved down the bar, “Usopp!”
Nami made a face.
Purposefully avoiding her lethal stare, Zoro kept his attention on the barkeep who finished serving a customer, then made his way over. Usopp snagged a few empty bottles off the counter as he walked. Tossing them in a bin as he approached with an innocent smile on his face, “Yo, what’s up?”
“I’ll take you up on that meal.”
Nami sighed, then walked away.
“What’s good?”
“Everything,” Usopp assured, before toning down the salesmanship with a genuine smile. “And that ain’t hot air—our cook is literally the best you’ll find from here to Grand Line City.”
“That’s chef to you, shithead.”
And suddenly, the man was there…
Walking along the back of the bar towards them, Zoro was left with the revelation that the mysterious piano player was actually the cook. He was distracted by the paper in his hands while rolling a healthy amount of tobacco, but still shot Usopp a stern look, “Don’t piss me off.”
Usopp rolled his eyes fondly – like this attitude was normal – then walked off to serve a customer.
Coming to a stop across the bar from Zoro, the cook finished rolling the paper – like he’d done it a million times – before lifting it to his mouth to wet the paper with his tongue. And Zoro was struggling to decide whether he wanted to stare at the man’s hands or his mouth.
Unfortunately, the cook – chef – was even more devastating up close—and Zoro was grateful for having a solid poker face…
“Special’s a salted pork on sourdough,” the man flicked the paper sealed with a swipe of his thumb, “Help sop up some of that liquor.”
Zoro nodded agreeably.
Placing the finished roll between his lips, the man struck a match to light it; he puffed on it a few times to get a cherry started, then shook the match to snuff out the flame. He tossed the remnants beneath the counter. His gaze eventually returned to Zoro with a long, thoughtful drag on the cigarette.
“You like music?”
The question caught Zoro off guard—and he just arched a brow.
And just like that woman, the man smirked like a spider than had caught a fly. He finished his long drag on his cigarette before tilting his head towards the stage, “Noticed you watching.”
A long tendril of smoke curled between them like the ticking of a clock—and Zoro knew even a lie was useless. He decided on silence. Refusing to break first as there was something about the man that made him feel like backing down would be considered a sign of weakness.
After several long seconds, the man blew out the stream of smoke, then chuckled, “I’ll get you that meal.”
Sweeping away in a haze of cloves and spices, the man pushed through the swinging doors behind the bar to disappear deeper into the bowels of the building. Zoro watched the doors sway – back and forth – several times before falling still, then glanced down at his drink. He tapped his finger idly against the rim. Unsure exactly what to make of the interaction with the cook, but certain he wasn’t crazy in the way the man had been looking at him.
Like he was something to eat.
It might not have meant anything, but…
Strike one.
A few minutes passed as Zoro continued to ruminate into his drink, until the cook returned with a plate laden with a meal that looked heavenly—and made Zoro realize just how hungry he was. The bread was dense and fluffy, and appeared to be freshly baked. Thick gravy oozed out the sides from the generous helping of pork. And a huge pile of roasted potatoes on the side finished the dish.
The cook placed the dish down on the bar with a flourish, “Bon appétit.”
Zoro stared down at the decadent meal in shock.
Perhaps chef was the correct term for the man…
Zoro glanced up, “Thanks.”
Slipping his fingers beneath the mess of sauce, bread, and meat, Zoro carefully lifted the sandwich to take a huge bite. He tried – and failed – to suppress a satisfied groan. Chewing and swallowing, before going in for another bite and realizing the cook was still standing across from him.
The man was staring intently…
Too intently.
Strike two.
Zoro paused, “Can I help you?”
“Just wanna make sure it’s to your likin’,” the cook shrugged, but excused himself with a short bow. He walked down the bar and disappeared through the swinging doors once more, but left the suspicious aura behind.
Zoro returned to his meal.
Thankfully, he was able to finish it without any more interruptions, then downed the dregs of his drink before wandering off to find a place to relieve himself. He got turned around – twice – before finally finding the back door that led outside. It came out onto a porch that wrapped around the side of the building to connect with the front of house.
Making his way down the steps into the back yard, Zoro spotted the livery off to the side where multiple horses were being stabled. The courtyard behind the building had several picnic tables as well. It appeared like the place did even more business in the summer.
Several outhouses bordered the forest just off the courtyard, Zoro relieved himself, then returned to the gambling hall. He made his way up the stairs to the porch, but instead of going in the back door he walked around the patio to inspect the area. The patio was large with multiple tables scattered beneath the awning. All the chairs were gone so only the tables remained.
However – what made the spot truly remarkable – was the view of the mountains—and Zoro stood for a moment just staring up at them. The nearly full moon made the peaks glowing; the tops dusted in a tantalizing cap of snow, the tendrils creeping down the steep gulleys before tapering into obscurity. The promise of fast approaching winter. He liked the evenings in the north. The dry cold air was a comfort, but with it came longer nights.
And longer nights meant…
A sound had Zoro’s hand dropping to his thigh, the clasp was flicked and the stock of the shotgun was in his hand before he even turned around. The gun levelled as he spun. Coming to a stop with the barrel poised between the eyes of the cook.
“Woah,” the cook drawled. Both his hands were raised in mock surrender, but there wasn’t a shred of fear, “Easy there. Just came out to say the patio’s closed.”
There was something off about this guy, and Zoro’s earlier suspicions were beginning to compound. It hadn’t been the reason he had come here, but it might be the reason he’d have to stay.
Lowering the gun, Zoro reholstered it, but left the clasp undone. He jerked his jacket back into place to conceal it, then reprimanded the man, “Don’t sneak up on people.”
A devious smile spread across the cook’s face – just like at the bar – before leaning back with a whimsical tetter. And as he leaned a bit too far back the moonlight refracted oddly off one eye, “My bad, my bad—I forget how quiet I can be.”
Zoro’s eye narrowed.
Strike three.
Leaving the cook to his smoke, Zoro stomped across the patio and headed back through the front door while debating how exactly he wanted to handle the situation. He wanted to be sure before doing anything brash. The only question was—
As he shoved through the door, Zoro stopped short as the waifish man from before walked by with a man trailing unsubtly behind. They headed for the grand staircase nearby, then towards the rooms above where other clientele were coming and going…
And Zoro got an idea.
It was bold, but…
Face to face with the host stand, Zoro found Nami currently by herself which made this even easier. He approached and she glanced up with a rather bored expression. And Zoro could hardly blame her, as he hadn’t exactly let her take advantage of his pocketbook.
“I’ll take ya up on a room,” Zoro grunted, already pulling out his billfold to prove his intentions.
“Of course,” she simpered, but Zoro could hear it was a thin veneer.
She snagged a key off one of the hooks and handed it over, then took his name and payment. He paid, but made sure to allow her to see the rest of the money stuffed in his billfold. Lazily looping the twine back around the leather before tucking safely in the inside pocket of his jacket.
“Alright, you’re all set,” she hummed, before adding, “You certain we can’t interest you in some company?”
And this time, Zoro grinned.
A charming thing that he reserved for when he wanted something, and could tell it worked because the woman actually blinked in surprise when he did, “There’s only one person I’m interested in,” Zoro looked at her pointedly. “Don’t waste my time with anybody else.”
She hesitated.
“I’ll pay whatever.”
She still seemed wary – as convincing the man would likely be the challenge – but the notion of money appeared to sway her. Zoro could practically see the dollar signs igniting behind her eyes. And she crooned, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Zoro nodded with a final, dazzling smile, then headed upstairs.
A bit of wandering before finding the right room, Zoro slipped inside and locked the door; the space was decently sized with a large bed, but it wouldn’t be getting much use. And everything else was pretty standard – small dresser, vanity, and table with two chairs – but most important of all—a window.
Shucking off his cloak, then jacket – tossing both onto a spare chair – Zoro then removed the shoulder bag he kept hidden beneath the layers. He dug out a few necessities; a leather strap, a vial of clear liquid, and a shank of rope. Dragging out a chair to sit in, Zoro set to work prepping everything for his prospective guest as the music, chatter, and gambling continued to fill the din…
~X~
Laying in bed with his hands clasped behind his head, Zoro’s eyes were shut, but he was far from asleep; he listened to noises of the gambling hall steadily wane as the night wore on. Less and less noise from the hall downstairs – besides the stubborn few that gambled well into the night – as well as the occasional sounds of guests seeking pleasure in other rooms.
Zoro waited patiently, but was willing to admit this tactic might not work.
It was a long shot, but between the conniving woman and the way the man had been looking at him, Zoro figured this was the best chance of getting him alone. And if this didn’t work, then he’d have to come up with something else. Maybe wait until the next night when the cook took his break outside and try to corner him then…
An abrupt knock had Zoro’s eye flicking open, then shifting to the door; the notion that this might’ve worked had his pulse jumping, before immediately forcing it steady. He needed to remain calm. If he was right about this, then he absolutely couldn’t let anything give him away.
Kicking his legs out of bed and lurching to his feet, Zoro made his way over, then wrenched open the door. The man stood on the other side with a peculiar expression. It was simultaneously embarrassed and annoyed—and perhaps a touch anxious.
The way he was nursing the cigarette with twitchy fingers exposed the latter.
They sized the other up for a beat, then the man finished his aggravated drag to huff a cloud of smoke between them. His eyes narrowed a fraction before muttering, “Look, I dunno what ideas ya have about this place,” the man jerked his thumb at himself, “but I cook, I ain’t the entertainment.”
Zoro stared silently.
“So, don’t think you’re special, or nuthin’,” the cook scoffed, but shouldered his way into the room—and Zoro arched an eyebrow in muted surprise. It appeared the guy’s indignation over the situation was keeping him from noticing anything suspicious…
A laughably helpful thing.
“I just have a hard time sayin’ no to Nami,” the cook grumbled with a drag on his cigarette. The crackling of the paper filled the room as Zoro slowly closed the door, then locked it—the man didn’t even glance up when he did.
This was going to be too easy…
The cook finally shot him a look with a huff, “And you ain’t ugly.”
Zoro ignored the jab.
With a final drag on the cigarette, the cook stubbed it out in the nearby ashtray before rounding on Zoro with an accusatory look. He blew a stream of smoke off to the side before snorting, “Ya don’t talk much, huh?”
“Nothing I wanna talk about,” Zoro murmured.
Taking a step closer, Zoro watched carefully for any sign that this might be a trap, but the cook just watched – almost hypnotized – as Zoro neared. His eyes dropped—and his pupils flickered before dilating. Distracted by the one thing that was his undoing – that was all of their undoing – lower than his lips…
His neck.
And Zoro’s hunch was confirmed.
Tactful to not let it show on his face – or in his pulse – Zoro continued as though nothing was amiss—and reached out slowly for the creature. The tips of his fingers grazing the hollow of the pale neck with a gentle caress; the motion earned a twitch. Neck flexing at the touch before relaxing and allowing Zoro’s hand to splay further—and higher.
Fingers and palm followed until Zoro’s hand cradled the man’s neck while his thumb stroked the long, hard line of his jaw. The tips of his fingers slipping into perfect, silky hair. And the cool, smooth flesh beneath his hand was the final confirmation that the thing in front of him wasn’t human.
Zoro took another step to close the distance.
Gently tilting his jaw, Zoro hovered – as though for a kiss – and almost felt guilty at the unsuspecting creature; the trusting readiness in which it leaned into him. The obvious yearning for blood his undoing. There was a vulnerable earnestness that had Zoro wondering how far he could take it…
A bit of twisted curiosity had Zoro slanting his lips over the cook’s in a hungry kiss—and the creature surged into him like he’d been waiting for permission. Zoro almost felt guilty. If not for the fact all of it had very little to do with him—and everything to do with his blood.
It felt kind of like putting his head in the open jaws of a grizzly, but the spike of adrenaline from it was a euphoric rush. He could feel the man tense against him. And a moan muffled by their mouths as the sudden uptick in Zoro’s heartbeat caused the creature arousing delight.
Zoro wrapped an arm around the cook’s waist.
Hauling him in until every line of their bodies were flush together, the cook groaned happily into the kiss as one hand snapped up to thread earnestly into Zoro’s hair while the other dropped to begin tugging eagerly at Zoro’s shirt. His fingers wrenching the hem of Zoro’s shirt free, then slipping beneath to rake a hungry, wanting hand across Zoro’s waist. The touch was exhilarating – and cool – but not unpleasant—and Zoro could see how it could pass for a human.
A flicker of disappointment had Zoro regretting that this couldn’t go any further, but every kiss was a reminder that this was likely the creature's way of feeding. He carefully slipped his hand around to unravel the leather bracelet from his wrist, before moving to rest it readily on his shoulder. The rose water kept it completely hidden from his senses.
Cradling the cook’s jaw in his hand to enjoy one final, deep kiss, Zoro soaked up the delicious flavour of cloves, spices, and copper. He savored the addicting taste on his tongue for the precious few seconds—then he attacked.
Slamming the strap was across his mouth before he could say anything as he tackled the surprised creature back onto the bed. The creaking of the bedsprings insinuated far more salacious things as Zoro took the precious moments of surprise to his advantage. It was only a few seconds, but enough for Zoro to get the leather lashed behind his head before leaning back swiftly for the inevitable attack.
Zoro snagged the rope he’d left on the bed.
A vicious hand shot up at him that Zoro narrowly dodged – the inhuman strength in that motion would kill him instantly – but he was waiting for the strike. He slipped the premade loop around the hand and cinched tight around the creature’s wrist, then jerked hard to force him to roll. He whipped the extra length of the loop around the other wrist successfully tying both hands behind his back.
Tumbling off the bed and onto his feet, the vampire stumbled with a confused groan; the vampire was already moving slower thanks to the leather. The oil caused his head to spin and his movements to go sluggish.
Zoro kicked the creature in the hip, sending him into a stumble and landing in the chair nearby.
Arms crossed over his front and wrists tied behind his back, the creature slumped forward while clearly suffering from the poisoning effects of the plant. The oil on the leather did the trick in immediately weakening the creature. Lethargic from the fumes leeching into his mouth and nose – hair falling in a dishevelled mess into his eyes – the creature looked up at him dazed—and successfully subdued.
“Hey,” Zoro sneered. “Vampire.”
And for the first time the entire night, the man looked surprised – not scared, not panicked, not anxious – but just surprised. He leaned back a bit in the chair. Regarding Zoro with an air of respect before looking down at his bonds with some curious fidgeting.
“Sunflower oil,” Zoro grinned. He grabbed a second piece of rope and gave a sharp tug to pull it taut with a satisfying snap, “Neat trick, huh?”
The vampire gave a dry look.
Using the same loop trick, Zoro managed to snag each of the vampire’s ankles, then tie them to the chair legs to make sure he couldn’t make any racket. The vampire could maybe tip the chair over, but it wouldn’t do much good. And the fumes from the leather had clearly – quickly and effectively – drained most of his remaining energy.
To his credit, the vampire still didn’t appear very upset by the whole ordeal, but Zoro wasn’t really surprised at this point by their behaviour. He met all sorts over the years—and immortality made them weird. A lot had simply lost their minds by the time Zoro had to deal with them.
Moving to the window, Zoro shucked back the curtains to reveal the still dark evening; the sun wasn’t set to rise for a bit, but that wasn’t an issue. The hard part was over. Now came the waiting…
“Ahm mm hmmng uhnhm muhming?” The vampire mumbled something into the strap while gifting Zoro a bored look.
It didn’t take much to parse out the scathing question—and Zoro grunted, “Yes, we’re waiting until morning.”
Walking back across the room, Zoro observed the dishevelled vampire curiously—the moonlight filtering through the window caused an iridescent shimmer through his dishevelled hair. Zoro curled his fingers beneath the vampire’s bangs, then carefully swept them aside to reveal the shimmering swirls along his brows. Zoro was reminded of whirlpools—or a snail shell.
A chuckle escaped Zoro before he could stop it – the mark of the beast manifested in different ways – but these weren’t particularly threatening.
“Huh,” Zoro smirked. “Nice Mark, Curlybrows.”
Twisting his face to the side to free himself from Zoro’s hand, the vampire shook his hair out, then flicked it to the side so the bangs once more concealed the markings. The vampire rolled his eyes with a condescending mutter, then turned his face stubbornly to the side.
Leaving the vampire to his bonds, Zoro returned to the table to gather his remaining things and stow them away. He grabbed the sword, then slid the scabbard securely back in place on his hip. And that got the vampire’s attention.
“Hm hhmmhm hmm?” The vampire nodded towards the sword—Zoro struggled to parse that out this time, but understood the jist.
“Less of a mess if I let the sun deal with you,” Zoro explained. He grabbed his bag next and slung it on. “If I kill you now then I have to figure out how to get a dead body out of here without anyone noticing. This is easier.”
“Ah,” the vampire rolled his eyes, then gave an understanding shrug, “Hm, mh hmm hm hhmhmhu.”
Zoro paused while grabbing his jacket.
The vampire was remarkably sarcastic even when about to die…
“Yeah,” Zoro drawled while slinging the coat on, then grabbing the other chair. He dragged it over and plopped down into it, “Figured it’d be easier for you too, Curly.”
The vampire slumped back in the chair with an unimpressed look.
Following the vampire’s lead, Zoro settled down a bit more comfortably in his chair, then kicked a leg up to rest on his knee. He slipped a hand into an inside pocket of his jacket to grab a smaller silver blade. Unsheathing it to keep on hand; the gun was out of the question as he didn’t need to wake up the whole building in case something went wrong.
The vampire’s gaze dropped to take in the weapon, then back at Zoro with a teasing waggle of his brows, “Hmhum.”
Zoro arched a brow.
And the vampire shook his head dismissively, then looked away.
Choosing instead to turn his attention back to the window to watch the night sky, the vampire appeared entirely too patient for his own demise. Occasionally wiggling or tugging at his bonds to try and get free, but the supernatural strength would be useless against the treated ropes. The creature was practically a human in the bonds. And the oil on the leather did the rest.
Zoro settled in for a long night.
An hour passed with little trouble, until Zoro felt something watching him; his head shot up, but the vampire had his eyes closed. He glanced over when Zoro moved. Gifting a questioning look while Zoro glanced uncomfortably around the space, but nothing was out of place.
A few seconds later footsteps in the hall confirmed Zoro’s unsettling feeling—and when they stopped outside the door his grip tightened on the knife in hand. The knock that followed was crisp and professional—likely one of the women.
Rather than looking relieved, Sanji just looked curious, like it was any other day. He glanced over his shoulder, then tilted his head at it before mumbling, “Hm hming hm hmn hmn?”
Zoro scowled, “Yes, I’m going to get that.”
That damnable woman was too hospitable for her own good…
Already planning out his lie to get her to leave – or run damage control; this wasn’t the first time Zoro had to prove the existence of vampires to someone – Zoro pushed to his feet, then froze as he heard the slide of a key into the lock. A chill ran down his spine as the door swung open to reveal the other woman that had been by Nami’s side the entire evening, “Sanji?”
“Mn!” The vampire – Sanji, apparently – hummed happily. Head tipping back so the gold hair traipsed over his shoulders, “Hmhm!”
An awkward moment passed as the woman took in the scene before her; Sanji gagged and tied to a chair and Zoro standing with a knife in hand. The woman blinked, then smiled at Zoro. An all too friendly, calm, and eerie thing that made Zoro realize he’d made a grave mistake, “Oh dear, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to untie him.”
Zoro moved.
Flinging the knife at the woman – hitting her in the shoulder – Zoro kicked over the chair with Sanji in it before running to the window and jumping through it with a spray of glass. He landed on the awning below with a bang, then rolled off to drop to the ground below. The noise startled the horses in the livery who all began whinnying in distress.
Zoro rolled out of the second fall, then took off running.
Sprinting across the courtyard and vaulting over a fence, Zoro headed towards the forest where several of the outhouses were nestled amongst the trees; there was a door which meant it should work. He all but dove into one. Sprawled across the – thankfully closed – plywood lid that covered pit as a bang echoed through the night air at the sound of someone else jumping down onto the awning.
With a bit of scrambling, Zoro managed to turn around – making sure to keep every part of himself safely past the doorway – to see Sanji striding across the yard and towards the outhouse. The vampire rubbing at his wrists irritably. As though scrubbing off the phantom itch from the sunflower oil while advancing on Zoro with a violent intent.
“Y’know,” Sanji drawled—and for the first time Zoro could hear the faintest trace of anger tinging the vampire’s voice, “I can excuse the lies—I can even look past you tyin’ me up…”
Sanji came to a stop at the edge of the shack.
A violent look that showed the true nature of the bloodthirsty monster darkened the man’s face as he hissed, “But then you had to attack Robin.”
Still recovering from his sprinting, Zoro’s panting slowed as he adjusted his jacket – mindful that not even the toe of his boot crossed the line of the door – then sat a bit more upright on the bench. His hand fell to his thigh. Fiddling with the holster while keeping his gaze on the vampire.
“She’s fine,” Zoro drawled. “It’ll take more than that to kill her.”
“You’re right,” Sanji smiled. It was a little manic, “And you’re lucky it didn’t, so I’ll do you the courtesy of killing you quickly!” At the last word, the vampire slammed his open palm on the air in front of him – right where the entrance to the outhouse began – but proof that the vampire couldn’t enter without permission, “Now let me in!”
Zoro lifted the shotgun.
Sanji laughed, “That won’t kill me!”
“No…” Zoro agreed. He raised it from chest to face, “but it’ll fuck up your face for a while.”
Bracing both hands on the invisible barrier, Sanji grinned – finally showing those dangerous fangs – as he dared Zoro venomously, “Do it.”
Maybe this vampire did have a death wish…
“You’re not getting in here,” Zoro spoke, cool and concise, “I suggest you leave… Curly.”
Sanji’s eye twitched.
They glared at each other for a while, the vampire clearly as stubborn and obstinate as Zoro, before the inevitability of their situation finally settled in. Sanji huffed, then shoved off the barrier and took a step back. Eyes shifted to dart over the shed while they both weighed the consequences of taking this further, but the unfortunate conclusion was anything more would draw witnesses.
“Fine,” Sanji snarled, then flipped Zoro a finger, “Enjoy sleepin’ in the shithouse.”
As Sanji stalked back to the gambling hall, Zoro watched him storm up the steps of the back porch and duck inside. Zoro half expected Sanji to return with more vampires, or at very least the sheriff to spin the story of him attacking Robin, but it seemed they’d prefer to keep a low profile—something Zoro had been counting on.
Regardless, Zoro sat for a while simply watching the building, but most of the windows remained dark, and the rest steadily went out with time. It wasn’t long until even the music grew quiet—and everyone in the building had turned in for the night.
Zoro hauled the door shut, then settled back into his… accommodations.
Luckily, the ground was already frozen and the air was getting frigid, so there was little smell to be had from the mess beneath the shack. He wasn’t pleased about his lodgings, but better here than dead. And frankly, he’d slept in worse places during his travels.
It would be dawn in a little while, then he could safely leave and figure out his next course of action, but for the time being he had to just survive the night. He bundled up his jacket properly, then tucked his hands beneath his arms, burrowed his face into the thick wool of his cloak, then settled in for a long, cold night.
~X~
Zoro startled awake with a jerk.
Warm, but stiff, Zoro momentarily forgot where he had fallen asleep before the lingering smell reminded him. He glanced around the tiny shake to note the streams of early sunlight sneaking in through the slates of wood. And breathed a sigh of relief that his entrapment was over.
With a yawn and stretch, Zoro pushed to his feet, then cracked his neck for good measure before shoving open the door to the outhouse. It hadn’t been the most dignified of evenings, but it had kept him alive.
Squinting through the sunlight, Zoro found the gambling hall exactly where he’d left it the night before, but looking remarkably dead compared to the music, lights, and chatter pouring out of it the night before. He made his way through the woods, then skirted the courtyard. Around the side of the massive building and back to the front.
It was early enough that the town was still mostly asleep—and when Zoro returned to the main street of the pleasure district he found himself relatively alone. He made his way to the front of the gambling hall, then stopped short. Early morning lethargy replaced with an immediate rage.
His horse was gone…
Zoro glanced up at the building.
All of the shades on the various windows were drawn, but there was no doubt the vampires were inside; Zoro debated simply burning the building down, but there were too many witnesses during the daytime—and there was no telling how many of the employees were human. And if he got caught, then it would be his face on the bounty posters…
Head on it was…
Storming up the front steps, Zoro was careful to stay in the sunlight, but as he reached the top step found his path stopped short of the door. The awning covered the patio up until the staircase, so there was no way he could get to the door, but the issue was taken out of his hands as he reached the top step and the front door swung open readily.
They had been expecting him…
There were the two women from last night – Nami and Robin – as well as a younger man hanging upside down from something above the door so he could peer down at Zoro. His black hair hung comically out from under the brim of an ironic straw sunhat. And the bright smile on his face would’ve been pleasant if not for the unsettling refracting of his eyes.
“Hiya!” the boy snickered, then turned his head, “Hey, Sanji! He’s back.”
In the shadows to the side, Zoro watched the cook approach; the same unsettling refracting eyes in the daytime. The cook glanced down at the line of sunlight that Zoro hadn’t yet crossed. It was obvious the vampire was waiting for any slip up on Zoro’s part to get even.
“Where’s my horse?” Zoro demanded.
“We’ll—” Nami began, but was quickly cut off.
“You think you’re in any place to make demands after what you did last night?!” Sanji braced against the door jamb while thrusting a finger aggressively at Zoro, “Stabbing Robin like that—you’re lucky I didn’t chop your shitty horse up into a chili!”
Zoro ignored him, “Where’s my horse?”
“OI!”
“Sanji!” Nami snapped, “Go away!”
A frustration warped Sanji’s face as he obviously wanted to object, but he obeyed with a reluctant bow and a simpered, “As you command, my heavenly flower…”
The cook turned to leave, but still slid his thumb across his throat while disappearing into the shadows.
It appeared as though Nami was the head of the snake, which meant Zoro needed to change his tactics; he debated the risk of attacking her right now, but there was no way he could throw a stake hard enough to properly spear her. Anything at this range would just anger them all further—and definitely get his horse killed.
“Your horse is in our stables,” Nami began, but Zoro was already turning away, “we—HEY!”
Zoro paused to glance back at the irate woman.
She placed an annoyed hand on her hip, “Can we talk?”
Zoro’s hand fell to the gun.
“Please.”
“Talk,” Zoro incited.
“Not out here,” she huffed, then gestured over her shoulder. “Meet us around back. We’ll get your horse—and I’ll say my piece.”
Without a word, Zoro stormed down the steps and around the side of the building; he was careful to stick to the sunlight even though the vampires were all still inside. He wasn’t taking any chances. Especially with a whole pack of them, there was no telling how many other vampires were in the building.
A part of him wondered if it was the whole damn town…
Rounding the corner into the back yard, Zoro found the stables nestled safely against the back of the bordello—in the shade. He could see the sizable dent his body had left last night. And the other next to it where Sanji must have jumped down.
Several horses were stabled – most likely customers of the hall – and Zoro spotted his near the end, currently being tended to by the piano player from the night before. Zoro neared while sticking to the line of sunlight in the dirt. It was only now that Zoro could see just how translucent the man’s skin was, the bone was practically visible. And the skin on his face was sunken clinging to his cheekbones.
“Oh, hello,” the man tittered cheerfully. “You must be the fellow that caused all the hullabaloo last night!”
Zoro nodded shortly—the vampire was certainly cheerful, but Zoro wasn’t about to trust him.
“You’re old,” Zoro noted.
A pleasant smile lit up the vampire’s face – almost too friendly – and he snickered, “I know—I’m practically skin and bones, aren’t I? Everyone keeps wondering why I haven’t died yet, but I’m already dead, yohoho!”
Zoro blinked at the strange vampire.
Some muffled shouting shifted Zoro’s attention to the back door, and a short while later it opened, with Nami stepping out followed by Robin… and Usopp. They made their way down the back steps to the courtyard, but stayed a respectable distance away from Zoro.
“Hey,” Usopp waved with that same friendly barkeeper smile as last night, then gave a playfully apologetic grimace, “Yeah, me too. Sorry.”
Zoro ignored it, “How many of you are there?”
Usopp glanced at Nami, who seemed reluctant before admitting, “Eight.”
Mentally tallying everyone in front of him – plus the cook, and the cheerful boy in the straw hat – Zoro still came up two short, “Who’re the other two?”
“Other barkeep,” Usopp jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “Franky. And Chopper—the younger kid that was bussing tables.”
Zoro nodded.
It wasn’t unheard of that vampires would hunt together, but in Zoro’s experience most were loners since it was less conspicuous, especially when hunting. The less people disappearing from an area the better. He’d run into a couple covens, but they weren’t this altruistic. They usually were responsible for even more carnage…
“Anyways,” Nami interjected with a congenial smile, “We obviously got off on the wrong foot.”
Zoro clicked his tongue harshly.
“I realize I can be… pushy,” the woman paused, as though reluctant to admit that fact, before assuring Zoro with a stern scowl, “but if I had known you were a hunter I wouldn’t have let anyone near you. We don’t want any trouble.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Zoro finally spoke. His gaze shifted between the four vampires, “In my experience, you things are nothing but trouble.”
“We haven’t hurt anyone,” Nami assured.
Zoro barked a cruel laugh, “Now that I don’t believe.”
“It’s true.”
Everyone turned to see the young man from earlier had returned, he hung lazily from one of the exposed frames of the patio awning. Swinging his legs playfully with an infectious smile on his face. He didn’t even bother to hide his fangs. And maybe it was the sunlight, but they were remarkably less fear inspiring.
Friendly, even…
“We don’t kill anyone,” the kid informed happily.
Zoro stared, perplexed.
Slowly shifting his gaze to the other vampire’s, Zoro waited for the other shoe to drop, but they all remained deadly serious. Eight vampires alive and well in the same building – same town – and Zoro was expected to believe that no humans had been harmed.
Surely, they didn’t think he was this stupid…
Zoro finally scoffed at the obvious, “How do you feed?”
A touch of relief flickered on Nami’s face as Zoro returned to entertaining them, and she quickly explained, “Chopper – the boy – he studied medicine. He figured out a way to safely bloodlet without our guests ever knowing—and we preserve it so we’re not at risk of running out.”
It sounded outlandish at first, but the more Zoro thought about it the more reasonable it became. The concept was plausible; he was aware of medicinal bloodletting, but had never considered it would work for vampires. From what he knew the blood would go bad, or dry up, but if they’re figured out how to preserve it…
Zoro glanced up at the gambling hall.
All the strong liquor and lustrous women were starting to make sense—and Zoro mused, “I suppose drunkards are the perfect prey.”
And Sanji finally snapped, stepping out onto the patio to spit, “Like you?”
“I’m not a drunk,” Zoro bit back.
“Sure.”
Nami shot Sanji a stern look, then turned back to Zoro, “Yes, we usually take from them. After they’ve passed out. They never even know.”
“You expect me to believe,” Zoro glanced at each of them in turn, before back to that strange boy on the stairs, “that I’ve just happened to find the only vampires that figured out how to not kill people?”
“Come back tonight,” Nami encouraged. “Take any precautions you feel necessary and we’ll show you.”
It wasn’t an entirely unreasonable proposition, even though being invited back at night to visit a vampire den wasn’t the best of plans. But the place would be packed. And there were more than a few things Zoro could do as added insurance.
As Zoro thought about it, he spotted the other one – the cook – lurking in the shadows behind the kid on the stairs. He’d obviously been confined to the building, but Zoro hadn’t forgotten how easily he’d been done in by blood. And how violent he’d been last night…
“Alright,” Zoro drawled, “say I believe you…”
Subtly sliding his hand under his cloak to shift his jacket aside, Zoro’s hand settled on his gun. The others seemed unperturbed, but Zoro caught the cook’s eyes shift in the dark. Unclasping and unsheathing the weapon, Zoro raised it, “But what if I do this?”
Before Zoro could even finish pointing the gun at Nami, Sanji was standing between them. He stood at the edge of the shadow, but the force of his stop had the air fluctuating around them. Zoro’s jacket and air fluttered as Sanji glared daggers at him.
It was always frightening how fast they could move, but Zoro had learned long ago not to let anything show on his face. Zoro allowed the gun to lower a fraction. Mostly out of curiosity than anything else, he'd never known covens to be this protective of each other.
“Sanji!”
Usopp grimaced, “O-oi…”
“Oh dear,” Robin sighed with a smile.
The vampire on the stairs cackled.
Zoro smirked at Sanji.
Flicking the barrel to gesture to the others, Zoro returned it to the angry one, “The rest of you maybe not,” Zoro swept the gun up so the barrel clunked against Sanji’s jaw, “but I find it hard to believe Curlybrows here hasn't killed anyone.”
Sanji snarled.
Hand lashing up to grab the gun, but Zoro tilted the barrel back so it was in the sun once more so Sanji’s hand extended up into the sunlight cresting the roof. His fingers exposed for only a second, before snatching his hand back with a hiss. Tips of his fingers black and sizzling as Sanji turned an absolutely murderous expression on Zoro.
“Ah, ah,” Zoro tutted softly in patronizing concern. “Careful.”
“Salaud,” Sanji breathed the word violently.
Zoro didn’t need to know the language to understand.
“Look,” Nami interjected with a heavy sigh, “No one's denying Sanji has anger issues.”
The boy on the stairs cackled louder.
And Sanji’s jaw dropped, “Nami.”
“But that's not a crime.”
Leaning around the still seething vampire, Zoro glanced at the woman and allowed, “I suppose not.”
Taking a step back to account for the shifting shadow under the rising sun, Zoro lifted the gun to rest against his shoulder while thinking over the whole mess. He supposed he could still burn the place down, but not getting caught and getting a bounty of his own could be tricky. And if they truly weren’t harming people then it felt like he didn’t have a leg to stand on.
This whole situation was new…
Every vampire he’d ever come across had unequivocally murdered, even the ones that tried to abstain by using animals always succumbed in the end. They always got a little loopy and snapped on a human eventually.
Hunger was hunger—and theirs a brutally cursed kind.
It wasn’t like Zoro enjoyed killing them, but he’d always viewed them as an infestation to be dealt with; a nest of termites to be burned rather than bargained with. The fact they weren’t killing people was unheard of. And it changed everything…
However, even if he agreed, that still didn’t address the most glaring problem which was what Zoro was supposed to do if he did believe this whole farce. He’d never turned his back on a hunt—or a fight. It felt ridiculous to just leave the town while knowing it was infested…
After a bit, he glanced back at Nami and Robin, purposefully ignoring the angry vampire still pacing the length of the shadow in front of him, “Even if everything you say is true, then what? I leave?”
They all shared a look – glancing around at each other innocently – before they all looked at Zoro again—and Nami pressed, “Why wouldn’t you?”
“You’re vampires.”
“And you rode into town with a corpse on your horse,” Sanji sneered. And Zoro finally turned his attention back to the fuming vampire in front of him. A cold look on his face while barking, “You’re in no position to lecture us on what a monster is—connard. At least we never had a choice.”
Zoro stilled.
It was a salient point – one that Zoro was loath to give the vampire – but nonetheless true. He couldn’t exactly argue that – if what they were saying was true – then he would be the one here that had killed the most people. And that was a striking thought to sit with…
After a long, tense minute, Zoro finally gave a short nod in agreement, “Fine.” He held out his hand – fingertips just shy of the shade of the building – until the older musician brought the horse near. The reins were tossed into his palm, and then Zoro left with a mutter, “I’ll be back tonight.”
~X~
Stabling his horse safely for the evening – not willing to let her get held hostage a second time – Zoro made his way across town and back to the vampiric brothel. He was still a little in awe that he was even entertaining this, but Sanji’s words hadn’t stopped rattling around in his head. While Zoro had never considered himself a saint, he hadn’t ever considered he wasn’t much better—and maybe, perhaps, was worse…
It was easy to claim it was different, but whether he liked it or not there was a lot of blood on his hands—both human and monster. He acted morally superior, but there was a chance there were vampires in that house that had not killed anybody…
Allegedly.
All of this nonsense still needed to be confirmed before Zoro was willing to let this go, but that didn’t stop him from stewing on it. He couldn’t call it justice or righteous to kill them if they truly had done nothing wrong. And if they had created the solution to manage this curse, then it changed a lot more than just their current predicament.
It changed everything…
Arriving at the gambling hall, Zoro found it much as he had the night before; the place was bustling with joviality. The music, the patrons, and the entertainment. And as Zoro stepped inside, he was met with both Nami and Robin at the host stand currently dealing with two separate patrons.
Zoro waited patiently, before making himself known.
As he approached the counter, Nami actually looked surprised, “You came.”
“I gave my word,” Zoro replied. “I hope you do the same.”
She nodded, then gestured to the side, “Wait at the bar and I'll come get you when we have someone.”
Zoro nodded and strode away.
As he wove his way through the hall, Zoro found himself watching the place through new eyes. He caught the elderly man on stage at the piano, the speed and proficiency in which he played was calculated to appear human, but obviously adept from centuries of practice.
Halfway to the bar, Zoro was interrupted by the young man from that morning who practically dropped down from the banister above to land inches from Zoro’s face. The leader of the weird crew of vampires leaned in with that same ecstatic smile. Only this time he had his fangs retracted.
“Hey, we didn’t get to meet properly last time,” the vampire thrust his hand out. “I’m Luffy.”
Zoro stared at the strange man for a minute before reaching out, “Zoro.”
With a firm shake, Luffy smiled, then asked eagerly, “So, you’re a vampire hunter?”
A little surprised by the vampire’s boldness, Zoro glanced around, but none of the nearby patrons appeared to notice. All of them were either too drunk, or too invested in their gambling, so Zoro glanced back at Luffy and agreed, “On occasion.”
“How many have you killed?”
With Sanji’s words still bouncing around in his head, Zoro reluctantly muttered, “Couldn’t tell ya.”
Luffy whistled low.
Zoro gave a stiff smile in response.
“So,” Luffy grinned, like nothing was amiss, “whaddya wanna do while you wait?”
At a complete loss for words, Zoro simply stared at the vampire; this whole thing kind of felt like a trick. He was used to far more violence from most of the vampires he encountered. Although most of them were also blood crazed and in a frenzy.
He was too sober for this…
“I wanna drink,” Zoro decided.
“Okay!” Luffy lit up, then grabbed Zoro’s arm, “C’mon.”
Out of habit, Zoro’s free hand dropped to his gun the second the vampire touched him, but Luffy was already eagerly dragging him towards the bar. The vampire’s strength was notable, but not crushing. The young man appeared to have a handle on his strength. Although, when they reached the bar Luffy did sort of throw him into his seat with a bit too much force causing Zoro’s ribcage to find the edge of the bar.
Zoro muffled a wheeze, then straightened.
Usopp gave a sympathetic chuckle.
It seemed this type of violence was typical of the guy…
“Booze, Usopp,” Luffy ordered excitedly while falling onto the stool next to him. His hands happily tapped out a rhythm on the wood counter.
“Aye, aye.”
“Unopened bottle,” Zoro clarified.
“Bit paranoid,” Usopp chuckled. “Ain’tcha?”
“I think I reserve the right.”
Usopp held up his hands in surrender.
Rooting around under the bar – quite inconspicuous – Usopp straightened with a large tankard that he handed Luffy a tankard; it appeared to be booze, but the garnet hue suggested otherwise. Perhaps what they were saying was indeed true…
Usopp then turned to grab an unopened bottle of whiskey right off the shelf on the back wall, before turning and setting it down on the bar. Zoro took the unopened bottle, then uncorked it; the wax broke with a reassuring crack, so raised it to take a bracing swig to deal with the insanity of it all.
“Oh-ho,” Franky made his way down the length of the bar. He approached with his sights set on Zoro, already with a stern scowl, “So, this is the fellow that stabbed my wife?”
Zoro froze with his drink half raised.
A tense moment passed where the vampire came to stop beside Usopp; the man of both imposing height and stature. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that the metal stint over his nose was there to hide his Mark. An unfortunately obvious one, but a clever solution to hiding it.
Franky’s face split as he burst into uproarious laughter, “Relax, my friend. No harm, no foul. She’s more likely to rip your head off than me.”
“That’s…” Zoro remembered the woman’s gentle smile—and how it had felt like a thin veneer to something else, “good to know.”
“But seriously,” the vampire placed a large, meaty hand on Zoro’s shoulder. The weight not unpleasant or painful, but very clearly strong. With a polite, yet grim, look, Franky pressed, “I’m going to have to ask you not to do that again.”
Not intending to let any of the vampire’s get to him, Zoro scoffed with a dry drawl, “I’ll try my best.” Luffy burst out laughing—and Franky’s face split back into a wide smile. He waggled a finger at Zoro, “I like ya—I can see why Sanji took an interest.”
Zoro was caught off guard by the statement, but supposed all the vampires likely knew by now.
Even if it had just been Nami that had convinced Sanji to go to Zoro’s room, once it all fell to parts the others would’ve found out what happened. Why Sanji had been in his room in the first place, and everything that transpired after…
There was no need to be bashful about what had happened, Zoro was quiet about his inclinations, not shameful. Zoro’s gaze flicked around, but the cook was nowhere to be seen. Even still, Zoro decided to play everything close to the chest.
“You are all very forward,” Zoro noted. “Huh?”
“Eh,” Franky lifted his shoulders in a lazy shrug, “Ya live long enough and ya don’t really bother with the nonsense.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Zoro lifted his bottle with a mutter and tossed it back; he took a huge gulp of liquor. He couldn’t even savour it. Just downed a bunch to temper the ludicrous conversation.
“Anyway, it’s a pleasure to meet ya,” Franky held out his hand, “Hope we pass your little test, or whatever.”
Zoro returned the handshake, then watched the vampire return to his end of the bar. He began serving customers again like nothing was a miss—and Zoro was truly beginning to feel like he’d misjudged this entire situation.
Taking another swig of his liquor, Zoro turned his attention back to Luffy who was already chugging back the dregs of his drink. Zoro could see the faint stains of red at the corners of his mouth, “What’s that?”
“Red Line,” Luffy gave the empty tankard a waggle, “Wanna try?”
Zoro shook his head.
“That’s just what we call it around the regulars,” Usopp chuckled while taking the tankard from Luffy. “It was Sanji’s solution; he preserves it with liquor. Lasts for ages and has the added benefit of getting us drunk.”
“You can get drunk?” Zoro asked skeptically.
“Mhm,” Usopp nodded. “Can you imagine eternity without a drink now and then?”
Zoro lifted a shoulder with a shrug, "Couldn't even imagine it now.”
“And he says he’s not a drunk,” a familiar voice sneered.
All three turned to see Sanji walking past with an empty tray tucked under an arm, the vampire shot Zoro an expectant – if antagonistic – look. And Zoro returned it with an arched brow.
Usopp rolled his eyes.
“Hiya, Sanji,” Luffy greeted, then grabbed Zoro’s shoulder to shake him excitedly, “Hey, did you try Sanji’s cooking last time?”
“I did,” Zoro nodded.
“And?”
“And…”
Sanji braced a hand on the counter, “Yeah, and?”
A compliment was on the tip of his tongue, but Sanji’s confrontational look had something childish and vindictive take over him. Zoro shrugged with a dismissive sound, “It was decent for someone that can’t taste what he makes.”
“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
“I'm saying it could be better,” Zoro lied.
“That's a fucking lie, you sonuva—”
“C’mon,” Usopp sighed. An arm hooked around the fuming vampire while forcing him towards the doors to the kitchen, “We got customers—leave ‘em.”
Sanji allowed himself to be dragged, but not without some colorful words and a vulgar hand gesture. And Zoro couldn’t help but antagonize the vampire with a smug grin.
As Usopp shoved Sanji through the swinging doors, Zoro eventually let his teasing smile fade. He wasn’t entirely certain how he was supposed to behave towards the vampire now. Their situation wasn’t exactly conventional. His attraction to the man had been superficial up until the point he confirmed he was just a creature that wanted to eat him, but that didn’t exactly change the fact that for a moment there had been something very real.
Zoro took a long pull from the bottle.
A little door behind the bar – connecting to the kitchen – flipped open and Sanji peered through, he pointed at Zoro and yelled, “Groggy bastard!”
“Alright,” Usopp sighed. He whipped the cloth off his shoulder and hung it over the window, “That's enough of that.”
“And fuck you too!”
The vampire continued yelling in another language, but it was muffled by the music.
Usopp turned back to another patron—and immediately started pouring him a beer.
Zoro had to marvel at how human these vampires were.
From everything he had witnessed up until this point, it really did seem like the vampires weren’t hurting anybody. They were operating a reputable business; besides the obvious corruption of rigged cards and slots.
Which Zoro wasn’t inclined to care about…
Finishing another deep swig, Zoro returned his attention back to Luffy, “So, how does a group like yourselves end up running a place like this?”
“It was Nami’s idea,” Luffy grinned, “we can only really be out at night, so a night time business made the most sense. Plus, we get to party basically every night!”
“Doesn’t that get boring after a while?”
“No?” Luffy made a face, “Why would it?”
Every night spent with each other – good drink, good music, good company – Zoro could see the appeal—and he retracted the sentiment while turning back to his bottle, “Fair enough.”
As the next hour passed at the bar, Luffy filled the time while talking about everything and anything; the young man was a chatterbox, but Zoro enjoyed it. He wasn’t much of a talker, which made him a stellar listener, even if he didn’t pay attention. And the vampire was strangely hard to dislike…
“I’m from Goa originally, but I left when I was seventeen,” Luffy extended his arms wide and sloshed some of the bloody liquor onto the counter, but Usopp walked past and quickly wiped it up, “Then a HUGE shark almost ate me. I’ve actually almost died at sea a lot—I can’t swim see. I’ve tried learning but I’m a rock, so I just avoid it!”
Zoro nodded amiably while taking another swig.
“Do you—” Luffy looked away with a smile, “Hi, Nami!”
“Hi, Luffy,” she greeted sweetly, and Zoro glanced over to see the auburn haired vampire approach. She leaned against the bar while speaking to Zoro in a much less fond tone, “Alright, we got one.”
Screwing the cap back on the bottle, Zoro tucked the remaining liquor into his bag, then pushed up to follow after the woman. He paused, then offered a hand to the young vampire, “It was good to meet ya.”
Luffy shook his hand a touch too hard, but it didn’t seem to be intentional.
“Good meetin’ ya too!” Luffy let go with a grin, “Have fun!”
Zoro scoffed, but nodded, “Yeah, alright.”
As Luffy scooped up his mug and bounded off across the hall to entertain himself, Zoro cast a glance at Nami, “He’s… interesting.”
“That’s one word for him,” she sighed. Continuing her purposeful pace back towards the front of house, “Now, c’mon. I’ll show you how we do it.”
At the base of the stairs they found Chopper waiting with a satchel slung over his shoulder. He'd been busy running about the place, but now Zoro got a decent look at him; the kid really was young. He couldn’t have been much more than thirteen. As they approached, the kid began scurrying up the stairs before Zoro could get near.
Nami scooped up the hem of her dress, then began making her way up the stairs. Zoro followed on high alert while passing the various courtesans that worked for the place; he tried to spot which could also be vampires, but was having very little luck. Nami claimed there were only eight of them, but he wasn’t taking the chance that she was lying.
“Do they know?” Zoro asked low.
“No,” Nami replied just as quietly. She kept her gaze ahead, “Most of the staff live elsewhere—and the ones that do live here are in the building adjacent to us.”
Zoro didn’t reply, just continued to watch everyone critically.
On the top floor, they passed several closed doors – many of which Zoro could faintly hear the activities within – until reaching one of the rooms at the far end. Chopper waited nearby, but refused to make eye contact with Zoro. Nami knocked, then used the spare key to enter. And Zoro idly wondered if Robin had done the same with the intention of them bleeding Zoro as well if all had gone to plan…
A man was passed out on the bed – clearly drunk – and judging by his state of undress was in a post-coital haze. Nami walked over, then snapped her fingers aggressively in front of him, but he didn’t budge. Only let out a drunken grumble, then scratched at his bare stomach sleepily.
Satisfied, Nami stood to beckon Chopper in, then they shut the door; the kid cast a fearful glance up at Zoro before darting past. Zoro was a little wary of being locked in a room with two vampires, but the place was busy and he could cause a ruckus if he had to.
Keeping to the back of the room, Zoro watched quietly as the young doctor procured a needle and some rubber tubing. He inserted the needle into the man’s forearm, then fed the tube into a glass jar. A steady stream of blood began dripping into the jar and before long it was full.
Chopper gently removed the needle and cleaned the arm once more with a swab of alcohol. He then put a lid on the jar and tucked the jar and kit away in his bag. He darted over to stand beside Nami.
With the vampires in his periphery, Zoro moved in to inspect the man’s arm, but couldn’t even find the mark. The needle had been so expertly inserted there wasn’t even residual bleeding. And the man himself seemed completely fine; with a drunken grumble, the man smacked his lips a few times before rolling over and burrowing deeper beneath the blankets.
Zoro stood, then glanced at Nami.
She was waiting with an expectant look.
“Impressive,” Zoro allowed.
A noticeable sigh of relief relaxed her shoulders, and Zoro was finding it harder and harder to believe anything nefarious was going on here. He somehow had stumbled upon the only virtuous vampires in the entirety of the frozen north.
“You wanna see our stores?”
Zoro nodded; he wanted to be thorough.
~X~
Back downstairs, Nami took over the host stand while Robin led Zoro into the back through the double doors. The building was separated into three main sections. The gambling hall itself; with its kitchen, bar, and rooms, the addition off the west end where the courtesans lived, and a third off the east end which was likely where the vampire’s lived.
They went through the swinging doors, then down a hall. Before even reaching the door Zoro could smell the heady aroma of the kitchen. The woodsmoke from the stove, the umami of the stews, and the earthy scent of the herbs.
They rounded the corner into the kitchen—and Zoro had to admit it was far from what he’d expected a vampire’s kitchen to look like. The place was brimming with seasoning; ropes of dried herbs, clusters of garlic, and bushels of flowers hung from every available rafter of the ceiling. The place looked as though the forest floor was growing down from the sky. And a shelf on the back wall by the wash basin was filled with hundreds of jars of spices.
A large island took up the center of the room where Sanji appeared to do most of his prep, mixing, and plating. Every corner of the room was stacked high with spare boxes of flours, grains, and potatoes. There was also a large stack of fire wood beside the massive wood stove that served as both an oven for breads and meats, as well as an iron top for pots and pans.
This truly was a vampire, that was also a cook…
“Sanji,” Robin knocked politely on the open door, “I hope we’re not bothering you.”
“Robin! My darling!” Sanji swooned. He flipped a large steak from a pan onto an already prepared plate of meat and vegetables, then spun around wistfully, “Never! I always have time for—” As Sanji finally noticed Zoro, his face immediately fell, “Oh, it’s you.”
Zoro kept his face impassive.
“Our dear Mr. Bounty Hunter wants to see our blood stores,” Robin swept a polite hand in front of Zoro.
Sanji tutted, then rolled his eyes, “Right.”
Finishing up with the meal he was plating, Sanji placed it on the little alcove on the wall, then punched the tiny bell. The wall on the other side slid open, and Usopp reached through to grab the dish with a quick, “Thanks, Sanji.”
Sanji grunted a response while grabbing a rag.
Without even acknowledging Zoro, Sanji began walking towards the back corner of the kitchen while Robin gestured pleasantly for Zoro to go ahead. Zoro preferred not to have his back turned on a vampire, especially one he’d already stabbed once. He shook his head, and gestured for her to go first.
She smiled – almost patronizing – but nodded and went ahead of him.
They crossed the kitchen to the door Sanji had pulled open that held a massive pantry—the walls lined from floor to ceiling with shelves of stock like sacks of flour, large crates of potatoes, and various other non-perishables. Sanji leaned down to grab the corner of the rug, then whipped it back to reveal a trap door. Grabbing the latch, then hefting the heavy slab of wood back until it sat open on its hinges.
A staircase down into a pitch dark cellar was revealed, and Zoro could feel the cool rush of air from the underground wash over his skin. Sanji gave an inviting wave while digging out his cigarettes. Glancing at the two expectant vampires, Zoro was almost inclined to believe their naivety as he drawled, “You expect me to go into a basement with no exit?”
Robin smiled sweetly, “Hadn’t considered that’d be an issue.”
“Well, it is,” Zoro quipped back.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, I don’t have time for this,” Sanji rolled his eyes while throwing his head back. He held out his hands – wrists touching – while growling, “Take me as insurance. Tie me up. You’re clearly into that freaky shit.”
Zoro made a face.
Robin tittered behind a politely placed hand.
Out of spite, Zoro flipped his jacket aside and wrenched his bag around to hang in front of him; he dug out another shank of treated leather. Sanji finished lighting his smoke, then held out his hands once more. Zoro looped the leather around Sanji’s wrists, then cinched them. Doing a final, hard tug while pointedly glaring up at the vampire.
Sanji took an idle drag on his smoke. It bobbed between his lips as he spoke, “Tie people up often?”
Zoro ignored the banter.
Shifting the other lapel of his jacket aside, Zoro unsheathed the katana, then grabbed Sanji’s shoulder and spun him. Zoro gathered a handful of Sanji’s shirt in the back, then laid the blade gently on his shoulder. The sharp edge just barely kissed Sanji’s throat.
“I’ll wait here, shall I?” Robin smiled.
“Don’t wait up,” Sanji drawled.
With a gentle shove, Sanji began to make his way down the stairs with Zoro right behind him. He kept the blade tight to Sanji’s throat while watching the woman behind him warily. Each step down into the dark pit was noticeably colder than the next until they reached the bottom of the stairs.
Completely submerged in the dark, cold void, Sanji gently tilted his head towards the lantern on the shelf, “Can I…?”
Zoro nodded.
Slowly letting go of Sanji’s shirt, Zoro stepped back but still kept the blade trained on the vampire. Sanji flipped open the small door. Leaning it to touch the cherry of his cigarette to the wick to get it started, then pulling back to adjust the dial for a comfortable flame.
It was more than enough light for the small room; similar shelving to the pantry above lined the walls with hundreds of jars stocked upon them. The blood looked black in the low light, but occasionally Zoro caught a flicker of red. The blood looked fresh despite the dust on some of the jars. And the room was frigid; underground providing an excellent insulator even if the fall weather wasn’t beginning to seep into the ground.
Recalling Usopp’s words from before, Zoro decided to corroborate, “How do you preserve it?”
“Some with liquor, some with salt water. I use the salted ones like a brine to make soups,” Sanji exhaled a lazy cloud of smoke off to the side. “And the liquor ones we just drink.”
“How’d you figure that out?”
“Both work as preservatives for food,” Sanji shrugged, “Figured it should work the same for blood.”
Admittedly, it was ingenious, and Zoro stood quietly in the wake of this truly revolutionary discovery; his mind whirring with the possibilities. The vampires here might’ve just figured out the solution to their entire cursed lot. And that meant that perhaps—
Zoro cut that thought short.
“And no issues?”
Sanji shrugged, “None of it came from a dead man, so why would it?”
Zoro nodded slowly with a final glance around the room.
“Happy?” Sanji huffed.
Zoro shot the vampire an annoyed look.
Refusing to dignify that with an answer, Zoro flicked the tip of the blade towards the stairs to indicate Sanji to walk. The vampire rolled his eyes, but obeyed. Stopping first to twist the knob to snuff out the lantern, leaving just the light from the kitchen to filter down the stairs.
Sanji’s eyes refracted in the dark next to the glow of the cigarette cherry, then he was turning and making his way back up into the pantry. Zoro followed behind him. As they reached the top of the stairs, Robin was waiting with that same innocent smile, “Satisified?”
Zoro gave a reluctant nod.
Robin pressed, “Is there anything else we can help you with?”
Zoro shook his head.
“Well, I should return to the front,” Robin tilted her head pleasantly, “If I leave you alone, you won’t tie up our dear cook again, will you?”
Zoro felt the faintest touch of a blush pinch the tip of his ears, “I won’t.”
As she walked off, Zoro turned back to Sanji who stood with his hands patiently extended towards him. Zoro quickly removed the leather bonds, then tucked it away in his bag. Fixing his jacket and cloak as Sanji walked back across the kitchen while rubbing his wrists irritably.
Zoro felt a flicker of guilt which he quickly smothered.
Making his way across the kitchen, Zoro lingered near the door; he was fairly satisfied with the situation, but he had one loose string to tie up. He watched Sanji quietly. Deciding how to go about it when Sanji took the decision from him.
“What now?” Sanji huffed. “Gonna hog tie me again? I told ya I ain’t into that shi—”
“Shut up,” Zoro cut the vampire’s teasing short. His hand dropped to sweep his jacket aside, then brace on the stock of the revealed gun, “I have one more question—and depending on your answer I’ll let you all live.”
Sanji remained unphased, then scoffed, “Okay, shoot, Filou.”
Whether tied up or not, the vampire seemed unable to stop himself from his facetious remarks—and Zoro pointedly ignored the word that was obviously an insult. He decided to get straight to the point. Not wanting to waste either of their time any longer than he already had.
“Why’d you follow me outside last night?”
A moment passed as Sanji frowned – clearly thinking about their chase – before clarity had him straightening in surprise, as if he hadn’t even considered the interaction at all. He stared for a bit, then gave a sheepish smile, “Honestly?”
“Honestly,” Zoro replied with a grim growl.
And as weird as it was, the vampire looked guilty, but not in any way that Zoro had ever expected from a vampire. Sanji didn’t appear remorseful, like he’d been considering killing him. He almost seemed embarrassed, like he’d been caught with his hand in the till, “Pretty sure you’ll try to kill me again if I tell you.”
Zoro flipped the clasp on his holster, “I’ll kill you if you don’t.”
Eyes flicking down to Zoro’s hand, Sanji stared at the holstered shotgun for a bit – not fearful, merely contemplative – before glancing up once more. The vampire knew it couldn’t kill him, but Sanji had that jeering playfulness about him once more, “Well, don’t you drive a hard bargain?”
Zoro’s hand slipped over the comb to cradle readily in the grip.
With a reluctant sigh, Sanji divulged, “You smell good.”
A simple admission, but the chilling reality of it had Zoro pulling the gun free just enough so they could both hear the barrel slip from the hardened leather. Sanji glanced down at it, then back up. Again, the vampire was strangely resigned while waiting for Zoro to decide what to do.
After a beat, Sanji added, “I wasn’t going to do anything.”
Zoro just scowled.
“Honest,” Sanji leaned away as if to prove his innocence. “I swear.”
This was… different.
There was a sincerity to the vampire that Zoro had trouble doubting, especially when Sanji’s hadn’t exactly been evasive up until now. The vampire wore his heart on his sleeve—much to his detriment. Frankly, it was the vampire’s own naivety that had gotten him caught in the first place.
Shoving the gun back into place with a comforting shuck of leather, Zoro lifted his arms to cross them comfortably across his chest while surveying the vampire. Sanji looked a little surprised by Zoro’s retreat, but didn’t speak. Just watched patiently as Zoro continued to mull over the weird information before settling on the most obvious.
“I thought we all smelled good to you,” Zoro muttered.
Sanji blinked, then chuckled; a genuine real laugh, before musing, “You’d think that, wouldn’tcha?”
It was enough of an answer, but Zoro still didn’t know what it meant, so he pushed, “Is it a me thing, or a you thing?”
“What?”
“Is my blood special to all vampires,” Zoro reiterated, “or just you?”
And – shockingly – the vampire blushed.
Well, as close a bloodless creature could get to a blush, there was no rush of blood in his cheeks, but the embarrassed grimace that tugged at his lips and the way he reeled back was enough of a tell. Zoro could hear Sanji’s teeth grind nervously before managing shamefully, “Just me.”
Zoro nodded slowly.
It wasn’t something he’d ever heard of before, but it was important information nonetheless. Most of what he’d learned about them had been from his encounters with them, but some important tips he’d picked up from other hunters along the way. No one had even mentioned something like this though—and Zoro wasn’t certain what to do with it yet, or if at all…
Zoro must’ve been quiet for too long, because Sanji spoke again.
“Look, just,” Sanji sighed heavily. And the sincerity returned as he gestured to himself, “if I’m the problem then fine—I can accept that. You can kill me and I won’t stop you, but let them go.”
Zoro blinked.
It was a startling quick surrender from the vampire; the resignation – but determination – on his face reminded Zoro of how calm the vampire had been last night. He hadn’t even tried to cry for help. And Zoro was beginning to suspect Sanji had allowed himself to be taken with the hope Zoro assumed he was the only vampire in the place.
He had been willing to die quietly if it meant the rest weren’t found out…
“You care about them that much, huh?”
“They’re my family,” Sanji said it like it was obvious.
And Zoro felt himself wavering.
It had been a long time since he’d had anything close to a family, but his entire purpose for being here was because he refused to let go of the remnants of the one he had—and with that, Zoro really couldn’t justify any sort of vendetta.
“Fine,” Zoro huffed. “I’ll let this go.”
Sanji blinked.
A look of relief – frighteningly soft – washed over Sanji’s face at the confirmation, which led Zoro to believe the vampire actually was beating himself up about getting them all involved. The vampire grinned—an actual, real smile, “Okay, great.”
“But consider this a warning.”
Sanji nodded; a little playful, but mostly serious, “Right.”
Zoro nodded, and then…
And then there was nothing else to talk about. The two of them alone in the wake of everything that had happened; something neither of them wanted to address. He gave – another – firm nod, then strode out of the kitchen. Zoro made it several strides before quick footsteps had him turning and sweeping his jacket aside; both hands on the blade – holster and hilt – ready to be drawn as Sanji rounded the corner.
“Woah,” Sanji hardly stepped out before immediately taking another back with his hands held up in surrender, “Easy, boy.”
Zoro glared at the vampire.
Hands poised innocently, Sanji’s tongue flicked out to nudge his cigarette before murmuring, “Jumpy, huh?”
Zoro slowly straightened, but didn’t remove his hand from the hilt, “I told you to not sneak up on people.”
“Right…” Sanji nodded slowly while continuing to stare down at the sword. He eventually glanced up, but still looked unsure of himself. He grimaced through a weak laugh, “About that… What– uh… What gave me away?”
Zoro arched a brow.
“Y’know,” Sanji waved airily towards the gambling hall, “for in the future?”
Never in a million years would Zoro have expected to be giving advice to a vampire on how to better blend in with people, but something made him cave. He reluctantly respected the man’s loyalty to the others. And something about the weird, eclectic family made him take pity on them as a whole.
Zoro had no intention of admitting that he’d only been able to catch the vampire because he’d been watching so closely.
“Bit of everything,” Zoro muttered in a vague attempt to distance himself from the truth. “You stare too much when people are eating.”
“Ah, well, vices…” Sanji trailed off at the secondary implication—and a heavy silence lingered between them. The vampire’s lips twisted as he glanced away with a deflective mutter, “and all that.”
Even if unintentional, it was hard to ignore the very obvious implications; Zoro hadn’t allowed himself much thought about their brief interlude before everything had escalated, but in hindsight it was apparent that despite Nami’s pushing, the vampire had still gone to see him. And not even necessarily for his blood, regardless of whatever alluring effect it seemed to have on the creature.
As deceptive as Zoro’s intentions had been, the passion had unfortunately been very real—and if the guy wasn’t a vampire it likely would’ve gone further. Sanji seemed to suspect as much as well. Which left them both at an unfortunate crossroads as to what to do next.
An apology felt owed, but Zoro found himself a little too proud to admit he was entirely in the wrong for his unscrupulous behaviour. He allowed a touch of remorse to warp his face as he murmured in agreement, “Yeah…”
Sanji didn’t say anything—and somehow that felt worse.
Leaving the vampire standing in the hallway, Zoro made his way back to the main hall while trying to not think about how he felt like he was fleeing his own demons rather than a very real one. He ran an agitated hand across his mouth to try and rub away the phantom memory of Sanji’s lips. And the very real passion that had for a second kindled between them.
Out in the hubbub of the gambling hall – the music, the conversation, the cards – Zoro found the chaos helped to smother the last of his reservations. He allowed himself a final, conflicted thought before banishing the incident to the recesses of his mind. And by the time he reached the other side of the building, it was a distant memory.
Finding both Nami and Robin at the front desk, Zoro paused to slap the counter definitively, but politely, “Fine.”
Nami blinked in surprise, but Robin only smiled happily.
“I’ll be back to check-in,” Zoro promised. “If I even hear whispers—”
“You won’t,” Nami assured—quick, but sincere. And even attempted a polite offer, “You’re welcome to stay the night.”
Zoro barked a laugh, “Nice try.”
As he took a step back, Zoro’s gaze shifted as Sanji returned to the main hall; the vampire had a rolled cigarette between his lips. They caught each other’s eye as Zoro muttered, “I ain’t sleeping under a roof with a bunch of vampires.”
And with that, Zoro left.