Archive of Our Own

.

.

.

.

“Zoro!” Luffy calls, swinging upside down like a fruit bat from the yard of Thousand Sunny’s mainsail. “Lemme hold your swords!”

Zoro does not deign to acknowledge this idiocy. He keeps his eye closed. “No.”

“Ehh…” Luffy whines. “Stingy. I’m stronger now. I won’t drop them or anything.”

“I’m not worried about you hurting them.” A lie. Luffy could break anything. “I’m worried about them hurting you.”

“Not weak,” Luffy reminds Zoro with a growl. “I won’t let them cut me!”

“If you turn my swords into rubber toys with awakened devil fruit powers, I will put my fist through your pancreas.”

“Ha! I don’t have one of those! I’m a boy! Zoro is stupid.”

...While that’s too much to unpack in just one afternoon, Zoro doesn’t really have a foot to stand on either. He hadn’t even known he had a pancreas until Chopper had verbally wailed on him for somehow damaging it almost past the point of repair. (Thanks, Torao.)

Zoro sinks further into the soft grass of their lawn and plays his trump card. “Captain won’t touch my swords,” he drawls, “because I asked him not to. And I trust him to respect my wishes.”

Luffy huffs and puffs up on the yard but doesn’t refute Zoro’s statement.

“What trust?” Luffy scoffs. “Zoro doesn’t trust me to handle his swords. Zoro doesn’t trust his captain.”

Ooo, a bold attempt at guilt tripping, but no dice. He trusts Luffy like he trusts the sun will rise. And Luffy trusts him like he trusts that the sea will still be cradling their ship when he wakes up in the morning.

Luffy sulks the rest of the day and the remainder of the week but Luffy was born under a restless star and is no match for Zoro’s wells of patience. He gives up the pouting act after a couple days and the idea of handling Zoro’s swords leaves his mind like water washing over the deck.

But it does not leave Zoro’s mind.

.

.

.

.

.

There are certain laws aboard the Thousand Sunny, meant to protect the crew from bodily harm at the hands of each other. They aren’t written down anywhere; there are no signed contracts or visual aids posted around the ship, but they have been brained into the Strawhats by force.

Of note, there is don’t get a body part between Luffy and a meal; don’t intrude upon the girls’ space unless explicitly invited in; and for god’s sake leave Zoro’s swords alone. 

No one is allowed to touch Zoro’s swords. There have been attempts, certainly—Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp have found themselves swallowing saltwater faster than they can get out an ‘uncle’ because when it comes to Zoro’s swords, he is as nuts and unreasonable as any given devil fruit eater. Zoro is not a kind teacher, and since they entered the New World, no one has made that mistake again.

No one touches his swords—or god forbid, draws them—in the first place, but since all hell breaks loose in the New World so often that Zoro considers raising his standard on what actually defines hell in the first place, he has grudgingly acknowledged that perhaps. Perhaps. He should have a contingency plan in place if he is somehow separated from his swords and his nakama are in danger. Either to protect themselves, or, better and less sickening, to help him recover them as soon as possible. 

That doesn’t mean he’s letting Chopper or Franky’s clunking mitts anywhere near them, no matter how delicate they claim to be. Zoro needs one or two designated handlers to do the job rather than allowing open season on his swords. Brook is the obvious choice, but he is bonded to Soul Solid and to be honest, Zoro does not particularly want Brooke’s freezing aura of the dead near Wado Ichimonji and Kitetsu’s delicate blades. Soul Solid was tempered to be strong over precise—she can take it. And while Enma certainly could handle Brook, Zoro isn’t confident that Enma wouldn’t suck Brook’s soul out of his body either.

Zoro thinks it over. He spends several of his night watches up in the crow’s nest meditating on the pros and cons of this nakama versus that one. His first and best solution is to leave and find crewmates that don’t make him want to gouge his remaining eye out when he considers putting a sword in their hand. Unfortunately, he loves them all too bitterly to ever leave, so he picks two lesser evils from the cesspool of evils and plans to approach them in the morning. It goes about as well as anyone could expect given…well, given Nami and Sanji.

.

.

.

“Don’t ever touch my swords,” Zoro says.

“Even if I wanted to,” Nami says, “not possible. Can’t sneak up on you when you’re awake or dozing, and you drape yourself all territorially over them when you sleep.” She doesn’t look up from the persimmon she’s skinning with a knife.

“...What?” Zoro says.

“Already tried nicking ‘em,” Nami says. “Way back when, on Going Merry. Gave up after the fourth or fifth attempt. You really should switch professions. You make a better dragon than a pirate, the way you guard your hoard.”

One bout of chasing her around the ship trying to beat her to death later, Zoro tries again.

“Don’t ever touch my swords,” Zoro says through gritted teeth. “But. This one won’t kill you.” He taps Wado Ichimonji with the heel of his palm. Hopefully the sword won’t remember how Nami kicked her back when they first met Usopp the way it constantly haunts Zoro.

“Okay,” Nami says. “Sure, I guess. I cannot express enough how little I want to handle those things when I have a magic wand.”

Zoro really wonders why he even bothers, but when he stomps past her, Nami reaches out to run her knuckles over the back of his hand and he relaxes just a little.

.

.

.

“Don’t ever touch my swords,” Zoro says, then stops. He can’t remember the rest of the script. He’d love to just leave it at that.

The idiot cook looks at him like he’s the stupid one.

“...And what business do your swords have in my kitchen?” Sanji asks slowly.

If only Zoro had eaten a devil fruit. He could simply throw himself overboard and drown to escape this hell of his own creation. Instead he stands there, trying to force his jaw to unlock so he can bite the words out.

The idiot cook isn’t even yelling at him to get the hell out like usual. He seems more interested in Zoro’s pained grimace. He actually wipes and puts down the knife he had been using to mince garlic to turn to face Zoro, crossing his arms and quirking a brow.

“If I die,” Zoro starts. 

Sanji’s brow arches further.

No. If he dies he doesn’t want anyone touching his swords. They should rest by his grave until they choose their new master. “If they…” He palms the hilts of his swords, mimes throwing them across the room.

“Then.” His fingers drum over Kitetsu and Enma. “These ones. Don’t. No one should touch these.” He settles on Wado Ichimonji. “This one. Only.”

The cook flicks open that obnoxious shiny hunk of junk he calls a lighter but doesn't light it. He’s still looking at Zoro with a neutral curiosity that sets Zoro bristling.

“Marimo,” he says after a moment. 

“What?” Zoro snaps.

He lights a cigarette and turns his back on Zoro. “Don’t you dare put me in such a shitty situation.” He exhales and smoke curls around his ears. “Get the hell out of my kitchen.”

Gladly.

.

.

.

Law isn’t on Zoro’s shortlist, but as a fellow swordsman he understands without Zoro having to say anything. 

He takes a heavy seat next to Zoro after a night of hard drinking. (Too hard. Zoro’s been told again and again not to egg him on but Zoro can’t help it; it’s impossible not to tease someone with such a serious disposition.) They swing their legs off the side of the Sunny, forearms crossed over the railing.

“That one, right?” Law says, pointing at Wado Ichimonji.

“Mm?” Zoro cracks his eye open to follow Law’s finger. Their collective four swords lean up against the outer wall of the main cabin; Kikoku towering over Zoro’s three shorter katana. 

“That one’s the most precious to you.”

“They’re all valuable,” Zoro drawls. 

“No,” Law says patiently. “That one’s the protector. You put it between Kikoku and your other swords.”

So he did. Zoro frowns. Well, only an idiot would put two cursed swords together, but still. “Don’ like that a devil fruit eater understands sword language so well. Pick a battle and stick with it.”

Law rolls his eyes. “I’m not interested in competing with you, swordsman. We both wield cursed blades; if you don’t learn a little sword language you’re on a fast track to getting yourself killed.”

Fair enough.

Zoro closes his eye. “Wado Ichimonji is her name. She can be trusted. Don’t bother with the other two.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Law sounds almost offended. “I prefer my blood inside my body when possible.”

Which gets Zoro to crack a smile, despite himself.

.

.

.

And that’s that. Contingency plan in place. Zoro can rest easy now.

But he doesn’t.

Zoro doesn’t trust me. Zoro doesn’t trust his captain.

Dammit, Luffy. Of course Zoro trusts him. Of course Luffy knows this. So why is Zoro trapped with the image of Luffy’s hand reaching out to caress Sandai Kitetsu’s hilt?

He thinks about it when he should be meditating. Luffy drawing her from her sheath like he could draw her across an enemy’s throat. The thought makes goosebumps break out along Zoro’s arms and legs. His mouth goes dry when he imagines Luffy examining her not with ignorant curiosity, but the skilled and critical eye of a swordsman. He imagines Luffy turning Kitetsu on her master—her vicious, hungry point nipping his throat as Luffy pushes just so to encourage her to draw blood. Zoro is helpless to stop Kitetsu from possessing Luffy and drawing them into a bloody duel.

And in his dark fantasy, Zoro thinks clear as day, if Luffy were a swordsman, we would be fucking by now.

Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and Zoro is not afraid of Luffy handling his swords; Zoro is afraid of how Luffy handling his swords might unravel him.

.

.

.

.

.

The solution presents itself to Zoro after several days of grimacing so hard his crewmates avoid him. 

When Zoro thinks of Luffy wielding his swords, one of two things happens: either he imagines reality, wherein Luffy flails around with one of Zoro’s swords and both cracks her and pokes his own eye out; or he imagines this hyper-sexy, hyper-sadistic alternate-reality-Luffy cutting him up with the skills of a master swordsman until Zoro...well.

Obviously, he just needs to assure himself of reality in a safe, controlled environment. Once he sees that Luffy has no idea what to do with a sword—like he had with Nidai Kitetsu, god rest her soul—he will be cured of this restlessness. Obviously. Doesn’t even need to consult Chopper on this one; he’s got it in the bag.

The best part is that Luffy won’t have a single clue.

“Oi.” Zoro throws an arm around Luffy’s shoulders before he can make a break for the kitchen when Sanji calls out for lunch.

“Get off!” Luffy growls, stretching his neck and arms like a ravenous noodle towards the cabin.

“Would you—god, you are such a freak—would you quit it for just a second? I thought about what you said.”

“Don’t care! Meat!”

Zoro tries not to throw up in his mouth. “About...my swords.”

That gets Luffy’s attention. He snaps back so fast that Zoro has to dodge backwards to avoid Luffy headbutting him. “Watch it, dumbass!”

“Your swords?” Luffy prompts, excited. “You’ll let me hold them?”

“I will let you hold one of them,” Zoro grumbles. “Under my supervision. And you have to swear to do what I tell you unconditionally.”

“Aw,” Luffy says. “But I wanted to try the three-sword style.”

Zoro clocks him in the head. Luffy laughs instead of yelping in pain like he should and wriggles happily in Zoro’s grip.

“Haha. Okay, it’s a deal! I will listen to Zoro, but only because I know how important your swords are. Don’t think you can start bossing me around!”

“Has anyone on the planet ever successfully bossed you around?” Zoro asks dryly.

“Nope. So don’t try it.”

“Whatever. Go eat something.”

Zoro lets Luffy go and he slingshots himself towards the cabin, vaulting off Franky and landing on Usopp’s shoulders. There is shouting. There is squawking. There is Sanji’s voice, using every swear in the East and North Blue. And then there is Luffy’s laughter above it all, resonating around the ship and in Zoro’s head.

.

.

.

“So,” Luffy starts. “When can I hold them?”

It’s night. Everyone drifted off to their respective hobbies several hours ago and by now it was late enough that only Zoro, on watch, would be out and about. And Luffy, insatiable.

“When can you hold one,” Zoro corrects. “And right now, if everyone has gone to bed already.”

“Brook’s practicing in the aquarium bar,” Luffy reports.

“Fine,” Zoro says.

He hops off the railing of the upper deck and leads Luffy out to the lawn. The moon is nearly full—they don’t need to light the lamps on deck to find their way, and with observation haki at their beck and call, they can see as well as during the day. 

Zoro points to a spot on the lawn. “Sit.”

Luffy sits.

Zoro crosses his arms over his chest. “What are the rules?” 

“Do what Zoro says,” Luffy recites dutifully. “Don’t touch unless Zoro says it’s okay. Don’t play around. Show the swords respect.”

“Good.” 

Zoro exhales. Even knowing Luffy has sworn not to touch without permission, he finds it difficult to pull his swords from his waist. He lays the three swords out in front of Luffy, then sits down behind them. He is silent, waiting to see if Luffy will break first and whine. Luffy does not budge, holding his gaze with patience Zoro does not usually see. He sighs.

“Pick one,” Zoro says finally.

Luffy shows a rare glimpse of his keen insight. “Is Zoro testing me right now?” 

“Yes,” Zoro grunts. The bastard sounds excited about it too. He leans back against the cabin wall. 

“Oh, I’m not so good at tests...” Luffy says but trails off, mind and eyes on the three sheathed blades neatly lined up and unassuming in front of Zoro’s criss-crossed legs. Luffy’s hand passes over the hilts of the swords, fingers wiggling, but true to his word he doesn’t try to touch them. 

He is drawn to Wado Ichimonji first. This makes sense. Luffy’s held her before, strapped her and her now-deceased companions tight against his body. The memory prickles at Zoro, lying dormant just below his skin. It’s not entirely unpleasant. He resists the urge to scowl. 

But Luffy passes her by after a moment, wavering between Kitetsu and Enma. 

Unlike Wado Ichimonji who had patiently tolerated Luffy’s presence, the other two do not lie still. Zoro can hear them as clearly as if he were holding them. Kitetsu moans softly when Luffy strays close, her spirit reaching for him. Enma does the opposite—she shudders somewhere deep in the soul of the sword, practically vibrating with hostility when Luffy comes near. Luffy’s hand pauses over Enma for a beat before he moves back to Kitetsu and slowly reaches down to grasp her hilt.

“Stop,” Zoro says.

Luffy’s hand freezes immediately. He grins at Zoro. “I got it wrong?”

“Duh,” Zoro says, shaking his head.

Luffy reaches for Enma.

“Wrong again,” Zoro says.

“Aww,” Luffy protests. “But I can feel them! It’s like they’re talking to me!”

Zoro points to Wado Ichimonji. “She talked to you too. You just weren’t listening hard enough.”

Luffy puffs up his cheeks.

Zoro points to Kitetsu. “Name?”

“Sandai Kitetsu!” Luffy parrots. 

Zoro blinks. At his blank look, Luffy grins harder. “Zoro is surprised? But of course I know Zoro’s swords’ names. They’re your precious companions.” He points to them in sequence. “Wado Ichimonji. Sandai Kitetsu. Enma.”

“Coming from a guy who forgets someone’s name if it has more than three syllables I guess I should be honored,” Zoro says.

“Hey!”

In reality he’s flattered. He hadn’t expected Luffy to call them by name. Not that Luffy lacked respect for Zoro’s swords, but he was an airhead. That he reserved space in his head for Zoro’s companions flatters Zoro’s ego. No. That’s not quite it. Maybe...satisfied? There’s a sureness, a contentedness in his chest that wasn’t there before. It is right that Luffy would know their names.

“Anyway,” Zoro says. “Captain can hear Kitetsu clearly because she wants you to draw her.”

“Oh,” Luffy says. “Then—” He reaches for Kitetsu again.

“No,” Zoro says. Once again, Luffy stops immediately and without a word.

“Kitetsu wants you to draw her,” Zoro continues, “because she wants to hurt you.”

Luffy tilts his head and eyes Kitetsu with interest. “I won’t cut—”

“That’s right, you won’t do shit,” Zoro says. “Kitetsu is a cursed blade. If she wants to cut you, she will cut you.There’s nothing she loves more than tasting blood. Blood, and attention. She is very needy and very tricky. And I don’t plan on being responsible for my captain losing an arm because I let Kitetsu play with an idiot.”

Luffy pouts. “I would be careful…” But he moves his hand away from Kitetsu. She lets out another soft cry, almost a whine.

“And Enma,” Zoro says, stopping Luffy from sneakily stretching a pinky out to touch the pommel of Enma’s hilt, “does not want you to touch her.” Her rattling had become almost audible.

“What?” Luffy protests. “Then why is she talking to me like Kitetsu?”

“Moron. She’s shouting at you to stay away. She’d kill you too, by the way. If you’re not prepared for her to swallow your haki she’ll suck you dry. Moreso if she doesn’t like you. Which she doesn’t.”

“Fine,” Luffy mutters. “Didn’t want to hold her anyway.”

The gleam in his eyes says otherwise, but whatever.

This time Luffy reaches for Wado Ichimonji, glancing between the sword and Zoro as his hand gets closer and closer and Zoro doesn’t stop him. Luffy closes his hand around her hilt. Zoro feels it like a physical thing—the panic of having another touch his blades, warring against that insistent prickling over his skin, warring against the strange rightness settling in his chest. Calm the fuck down. It’s just Luffy.

Luffy waits until Zoro lowers the hackles he didn’t even know he had raised and relaxes his shoulders back against the wall. “Can I?” He asks.

“Yes,” Zoro says.

Luffy stands and draws Wado Ichimonji smoothly. He is so quiet that Zoro is able to hear his sword sigh. Kitetsu and Enma still and go silent. Luffy holds Wado Ichimonji in front of him and turns her back and forth, watching the moonlight slip across her perfectly bisected length. She is patient with Luffy’s inexperienced hand, quiet but for the echo of a bell chime when Luffy moves her.

He clumsily swipes her through the air.

“Oi,” Zoro barks. 

Luffy grins back sheepishly. “Sorry.” He looks at the sword again. “Zoro, this sword is boring. Let me hold the other two!”

Zoro buries his face in his hands. No, really, shame on him for expecting better.

“This one didn’t hurt me, see? So I can probably—”

“She didn’t hurt you because she likes you,” Zoro says, lifting his head from his hands. “Wado Ichimonji isn’t like the other two. She’s stable.”

“Boring.”

“She is not—” Zoro takes a deep breath, “—boring. She owes you her life, in a way. She has no reason to hurt you. Don’t you remember?”

Luffy’s face pinches in thought. He looks over Wado Ichimonji and her sheath silently, Wado Ichimonji chiming lightly in accompaniment. Zoro resists the urge to roll his eyes. She’s speaking up more than usual, as if willing Luffy to remember her.

Luffy makes a frustrated chuff. “I saved your life?” He asks the sword. “Even if I did, give it a rest. It’s no big deal. You’re Zoro’s companion; I’ll save you or your friends any time you’re in danger. Don’t think you’re special.” Wado Ichimonji quiets down but is not deterred. She shines patiently, warmly, waiting for Luffy to remember.

Zoro sees when it clicks. The constipated look on Luffy’s face melts away and a delighted smile grows in its place. “Oh! It’s you. That idiot son took you away when Zoro got captured but I broke you and the other two out of the navy base. Wow! That takes me back.” He leans back and laughs. “Zoro! You must really love her if you’ve been carrying her around since the beginning. I’m sorry for calling her boring!”

The prickle becomes more of an electric zip over the tops of Zoro’s arms and down his spine. Wado Ichimonji rings with the satisfaction of being recognized and Zoro can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face. “About time you—”

And cuts himself off with a choke, because Luffy strokes two fingers down the length of Wado Ichimonji’s blade.

“Idiot!” He roars, jumping to his feet. Zoro grabs Luffy’s wrist, startling him. He yanks Wado Ichimonji out of Luffy’s grip and with his free hand takes Luffy’s palm to examine the damage. Wado Ichimonji is no Kitetsu, but she is by no means dull. She can halve a strand of hair lengthwise with the flick of her edge, to touch that edge without proper training would most surely—

Zoro checks Luffy’s palm and the pads of his fingers, the backs of his knuckles. Blinks once. Twice.

“Zoro?” Luffy prompts.

Luffy is not cut. Not even a trace of sheared skin on his callouses. Zoro panics for a moment. Had he let Wado Ichimonji go dull after all? He lets Luffy go to stroke Wado Ichimonji himself. She sighs at his touch, deeply pleased in a way Zoro has not felt in some time. Kitetsu cries out in jealousy and Luffy, sharp damn ears and keen ass haki, glances over his shoulder at her.

Wado Ichimonji is not dull. She is obedient under her master’s touch and does not cut him, but he can feel her fine edge even before he touches it, as she seems to shear the very air surrounding her blade. It is an almost playful reminder of her power and how much blood she has drunk—more even than Kitetsu.

Wado Ichimonji is not dull, but she did not cut Luffy. Zoro presses his fingers harder against her steel but Wado Ichimonji does not answer him, mischievously aloof bells chiming somewhere behind his ears.

“Zoro?” Luffy prompts again.

Wordlessly, Zoro offers Wado Ichimonji back to him. Luffy makes an interrogative noise but Zoro doesn’t answer. Luffy takes the sword from him. Wado Ichimonji sighs again. This time, Zoro gets it. He cracks a grin.

“She really does like you,” Zoro says. “She says she’ll never cut you. It’s like a parent babysitting a child.”

“What!” Luffy grasps Wado Ichimonji’s hilt with both hands. “Hey! Sword! I don’t need your pity! Quit it!”

He swings the sword down against his calf.

“Luffy,” Zoro chokes out, but despite the keen edge he had felt just moments ago, Wado Ichimonji refuses to cut Luffy, going dull as a toy. Luffy manages to get in a few more good smacks and has started sawing her against his leg above the knee by the time Zoro recovers from the shock enough to screech at Luffy.

“I’m not done!” Luffy snaps. “Give ‘er back! I’m not giving up until she cuts me!”

“No way, you lunatic!” Zoro snaps back, leveraging his height over Luffy to hold her in the air above his head. Which is pointless in its own way—rubber man, yada yada—but Luffy chooses to protest by wrapping himself around Zoro and inchworming up Zoro’s body like a bloody python.

“Okay. That’s it.” Zoro lowers Wado Ichimonji and gives her a delicate flick against Luffy’s skin.

Luffy yowls and unwraps himself, clutching his shoulder while rolling on the floor. He glares daggers at Zoro. “You said—you said—”

“And she didn’t,” Zoro says dryly. “Look at your ‘wound,’ captain.”

Luffy lifts his hand and eyes the damage to his shoulder with a pouted lower lip. As Zoro ordered, there’s no blood, not even any pinkness. A completely untouched Luffy.

Luffy blinks. “How did you…?”

“If I say cut, she cuts. If I say don’t cut, she won’t. If I ask her to play a little trick…” Zoro smirks. “How is it? Not boring at all, right?”

Luffy’s eyes sparkle. He sits up, pressing his sandals together and leaning forward. “Wado Ichimonji,” he repeats. He meets Zoro’s eyes with a smile. “Zoro, she is a good sword.”

“She is,” Zoro agrees, lifting his chin proudly. “All swords want to cut, but Wado Ichimonji is a little different. More restrained. Safer for the wielder.”

In his and Kuina’s dojo they had only used bamboo swords to train. The few steel blades that rested in the dojo were more akin to guardians than weapons of war. They kept silent watch over generations of swordsmen, and when they were drawn, it was with the intent to protect rather than to kill. As such, Wado Ichimonji absorbed the will of her wielders and those around her. Of Kuina. Wado Ichimonji was proud without arrogance and strong without bloodlust. 

She had withstood Mihawk for him. To protect him.

If his nakama happened to draw Wado Ichimonji, for whatever batshit insane reason, she would not seek to cut them. As the most obedient of his swords, she was responsive to him, absorbing his will more than the other two had. There was only so much she could do about complete morons waving her around, but the sentiment remained.

Still, Zoro is surprised at how stubbornly she refused to cut Luffy. This is ideal, obviously, but a blade dulling itself independently from its master’s command is unusual. And Wado Ichimonji, while stable, is still a highly proud blade that will teach with painful lessons if wielded by a novice.

Had she really absorbed Zoro’s will so completely? Was it just her? Just with Luffy? Or—

Zoro cuts off that train of thought, but not before his eyes dart to Enma. And Luffy, tapping his heels and toes together while he waits for Zoro to surface from his thoughts, does not miss it.

“Oh?” Luffy says.

“No,” Zoro says. “Luffy. This is—no. This is stupid.”

Why was Zoro here, again? Why was he letting Luffy lay hands on Wado Ichimonji? Right, because he needed to prove to himself that Luffy had no idea what to do with a sword. And he had accomplished that. There was no need to start experimenting with what swords will and will not cut Luffy.

“Besides,” Zoro says, “you broke one of the rules.”

Luffy scowls. “Did not.”

“Did too. What do you call trying to saw off your own leg with a sword if not playing around?”

“Not,” Luffy insists. “We were fighting.”

“That is not how you exert your will over a sword.”

Luffy huffs. He holds out his hand for Wado Ichimonji. Zoro glares at Luffy’s outstretched hand. Luffy shakes it emphatically. 

“Zoro trusts me,” Luffy says.

His voice is solid. He means it. Luffy is serious, losing the childish aura of excitement he had shown until now. 

Dammit. Zoro does trust him. He places Wado Ichimonji in Luffy’s hand. 

Luffy holds Wado Ichimonji horizontally and away from his chest so he can examine her blade again. Zoro tenses.

But Luffy does not start swinging her around. Luffy maintains a calm, almost quiet aura that to Zoro is synonymous with Luffy weighing up whether or not he plans on beating the snot out of someone. He traces her length with his eyes, a focused furrow to his brows. He angles her slightly to look at the tempering of her steel again, properly this time. And when he lifts his other hand, he approaches her on the flat side of her blade. Luffy strokes her hilt to tip, the pads of his fingers barely brushing her edge. If her steel could have rippled at his touch, it would have. Goosebumps break out across Zoro's skin. Wado Ichimonji rings in Zoro’s ears and he can’t breathe.

“Sorry,” Luffy whispers to Wado Ichimonji. The ringing in Zoro’s ear softens to a low whine before the sword falls silent. 

“I don’t know sword language,” Luffy says to Zoro. “Did she accept my apology?”

Luffy’s eyes burn bright into Zoro. He feels skewered, pierced. It hurts worse than being run through. 

“Zoro?” Luffy prompts.

Zoro swallows. “She—” It sticks in his chest, like a broken rib turned in. “She forgives you.”

Luffy will never know. He does not have aptitude for the sword, and even of those who do, few are able to learn sword language. He will never know that in this moment, when Wado Ichimonji suddenly feels lighter in his hand, when his grip on her hilt relaxes and seems to slide into place, that Wado Ichimonji is bowing to him. She is acknowledging Luffy. Swearing her obedience.

Luffy stands before Zoro, a king who can make even one of the twenty-one great-grade swords bow her head, and he has no idea.

“Let’s be friends,” Luffy says to Wado Ichimonji, smiling at her. “I’ll look after you and you look after me, too. Oh, and Zoro of course! And my crew! All my friends have to get along.”

The pressure releases and Zoro finds he is trembling. 

Luffy picks up Wado Ichimonji’s sheath and seals her before gently placing her next to the others. He sticks his tongue out at Zoro. “See? Not playing around.”

Zoro wordlessly picks up Enma. She is subdued, unresponsive when Zoro touches her other than a persistent, low-grade roiling within her spirit. As if shifting in place. Wado Ichimonji is her relative, after all—to feel such a proud sword acquiesce to one who is not their master would naturally unsettle her. Zoro feels no animosity from Enma, nor curiosity. Only churning.

“Luffy,” Zoro says. Doesn’t need to—he can tell he has Luffy’s full attention. “I want you to draw Enma.”

Luffy is silent for a moment. He crosses his arms behind his head. “No.”

Zoro closes his eye. “After all this...why not?”

“Because Zoro’s being weird,” Luffy says. “Are you mad at me?”

Mad as in angry? No. Mad as in insane...maybe.

“I’m not angry,” Zoro promises. “I just need to know.” He holds Enma out to Luffy.

Luffy shakes his head. “I won’t. You said Enma is dangerous. And I can’t hear Enma’s voice anymore.”

“Dammit, Luffy!” Zoro snaps. “I’m never giving you this opportunity again! Take Enma now, or forfeit the chance forever!”

Luffy folds his arms over his chest and plops down on the deck. “Forget it. If Zoro’s going to be like this then I’m not interested.”

Zoro considers picking him up and hurling him over the side of the Sunny. The worst part is that Luffy would let him. He wouldn’t struggle or cry for help; he would let himself drown until Zoro rescued him. Zoro could fucking scream.

“Asshole,” he spits, but there’s barely any heat behind it. Zoro’s coming down from his panicked high. The ringing in his ears fades and he feels as if he is surfacing from deep in the sea. His hearing and vision, once muted by shock, return to their usual sharpness. He slumps to the floor as well, placing Enma in his lap. They refuse to look at each other.

“Kitetsu was shouting,” Luffy says after a moment.

“Screaming, actually,” Zoro grumbles. “She’s more of an asshole than you.”

For a graded sword, Kitetsu almost wasn’t worth the trouble. Any time Zoro’s control slipped and he slid close to madness, Kitetsu would wail like a banshee to be drawn. She preyed upon Zoro’s mental weakness.

This was so stupid. It’s just Luffy.

“Graded swords aren’t just weapons,” Zoro starts. “They have personalities and preferences of their own. That’s why it’s said that the sword picks the master, not the other way around. That’s also why swordsmen hate it when other people touch their swords. It’s worse if you know sword language.”

Luffy doesn’t look at him, but he puts his elbow on his knee and props his chin up in his hand to show he's listening.

“But it’s not just a one-way street. Weapons understand people’s hearts. They can pick up strong desires and emotions and over time it can change them. That’s why it’s so important to learn sword language when you have a graded blade. You need to understand and respect each other to work together. It’s communication.”

Zoro takes a breath. “Wado Ichimonji won’t try to hurt our nakama because she has been with me the longest. She knows my heart; she knows what I wield her for. And because she has a good upbringing and a good personality, we have come to an understanding. No matter how pissed off the damn cook makes me, I will never use any sword but Wado Ichimonji against him.” Which is as close as he is ever going to get to admitting any positive feelings for swirly-brows.

“Enma hasn’t been with me long enough. Maybe one day, but we’ve only just established understanding. And Kitetsu—” Is too willful. Is too interested in Zoro. Is too reckless for a sword of her grade. “—Kitetsu is an asshole. Like I said.”

“Zoro offered me Enma.” A pointed statement, like an accusation.

How to explain that indeed. “I didn’t expect Wado Ichimonji to act so—” Zoro’s throat closes around the words. “I can’t explain it. She absorbed more of my personality than I thought. It surprised me. And since Enma is her sibling, then perhaps…”

“But you said Enma would kill me.”

“Yeah, I did, and she would.” Zoro pauses. “But you can tell at least a little bit, can’t you?”

Luffy’s lips twitch. “I can’t hear her anymore.” 

“Right,” Zoro says. “She’s not...right now, she doesn’t know what to think of you. I got caught up in that. Sorry.”

Luffy shifts to face Zoro, his cheek squished into his hand. “Okay. I forgive you.”

Zoro exhales, tension leaving his shoulders. “That was stupid of me. You’re right; she probably would still hurt you.”

“Huh? Oh.” Luffy pouts. “So I really can’t hold her after all?”

“You—” Zoro takes a deep breath.

“You—I—actually, you know what, forget it. You win, captain.”

“Oh?” Luffy perks up. “Oh? I can?”

Zoro rolls his eyes.

He stands up and Luffy follows his lead. Zoro holds out Enma. “Be careful. She is not nice. Don’t draw her until I tell you.”

Enma lets out an undignified yip when she leaves Zoro’s hand. The vibrating has returned to the surface, but Zoro can’t feel any enmity from her. Confusion and discomfort, but more in the sense of an animal that thought it could never be picked up being lifted into the air.

“When you draw her—okay, nevermind, what the fuck are we doing.” Zoro breaks into a cold sweat seeing Enma in Luffy’s hands. He reaches for Enma again and Luffy moves her just out of reach.

“Zoro doesn’t want to, or Zoro is scared?” He asks.

“Scared,” Zoro says, taking the sting to his pride and grabbing at her. “I have no idea what she will do.”

Luffy smiles. “That’s alright then. I don’t want to do anything Zoro doesn’t want to do. I can tell Enma is strong, but I’m strong too. I won’t lose.” Luffy wraps a hand around Enma’s sheath. “I trust Zoro, so I trust Zoro’s swords.”

“That’s only because you decided they were your friends ten minutes ago,” Zoro grumbles, but he is not unmoved by Luffy’s words. Enma isn’t an evil sword, after all, just proud. Enma has only ever been possessed by kings, but Luffy is a king too.

“When you draw her,” Zoro says, “she is going to pull all the haki from your body. You have to be very firm with her. Do not show weakness. Demand it back.”

Luffy nods.

Zoro prays to whichever gods are listening. “Okay. Draw.”

Luffy draws Enma.

There is a moment of stillness and then Luffy’s pupils shrink. He makes a choking sound in the back of his throat and Enma’s aura begins to flicker and rise from the blade. The hair on the back of Zoro’s neck stands up and he keeps his arms tightly crossed to stop himself from intervening. It’s not dangerous yet. Enma isn’t happy, but she’s not being aggressive.

Luffy’s sandal slides across the deck as he lowers his center of gravity. He grasps her with two hands and bends his knees to better brace himself. Zoro can see sweat dripping down his neck and wetting his hair to his temples. Luffy stays fixated on Enma—a good instinct. She will press him for weaknesses all over. Luffy cannot lose focus.

They observe each other for a couple minutes before Enma’s mood changes. Zoro is only able to bite out “Luffy—” before Enma’s aura flares and she drains Luffy’s haki. Zoro watches, horrified, as both of Luffy’s arms shrink to a third of their size and his grip on Enma wavers. Her aura roars out from the sword with newfound strength and Luffy lets out a pained whine through gritted teeth.

His color of armament crawls up his shoulders toward his neck and chest as Enma tries to suffocate Luffy and suck him dry. Zoro takes one step towards them, helpless, but if he intervenes now Luffy’s lifeforce will not return to him. Luffy has to best her.

Luffy’s breaths come out ragged and loud, his exhalations visible puffs as if using Gear Two. He’s breathing too hard and his heart is pounding way too fast—god, he really could have a heart attack or overheat into heatstroke like this—

“Enma,” Luffy snarls. “Hand it over.”

And in a final flare of her aura, Enma returns Luffy’s haki, restoring him. The color of armament fades, leaving Luffy panting and covered in sweat, but holding an Enma wearing only a light coat of Luffy’s haki. Luffy’s heartbeat slows and he straightens up.

He holds Enma up in the air. “Obey me,” he demands.

A tide of amusement from Enma lashes at Zoro. She flicks Luffy’s haki back at him down the arm that is holding him, flashing his skin black for a moment. Luffy scowls at her.

He turns to Zoro. “Zoro! I don’t know sword language but this sword is definitely making fun of me! Right? Right?”

Zoro covers his face with his hands.

Luffy’s sandals tap-tap across the deck and he peers at Zoro, calling his name, but Zoro keeps his face concealed. Enma stays mockingly docile in Luffy’s hand.

She’s not making fun of Luffy—she’s making fun of Zoro.

Sneering at him, really. He doesn’t even have to touch her to know what she would say to him. He doesn’t want to hear it. After all, Zoro could lie and hide from himself, but his heart can’t lie to his sword. And swords can’t lie back either.

“Zoro,” Luffy whines, using his free hand to pull at Zoro’s. Zoro lets Luffy finally pull his hands from his face, swallowing thickly when Luffy does not let go but clasps his hand without a second thought and holds it between them. Through their connection, Enma reaches for Zoro, thin as a vein, to touch him and whisper:

Devoted fool.

Zoro rips his hand from Luffy’s, bristling. 

“Zoro?” Luffy asks, voice pitched in confusion. “Enma’s okay, look. See? I’m okay. I’m sorry for yelling at her.”

Luffy offers Enma back to Zoro and Zoro says, “Don’t.”

Luffy’s brows furrow and he tilts his head like a dog. 

God, fuck. Zoro cannot be losing it like this. Where’s his cool? He has never shown weakness like this in front of his weapons. No wonder Enma is laughing at him. She has every right to. How can he call himself her master if he’s afraid to touch her, to hear her words?

“She’s not mocking you,” Zoro says. He reaches out to take Enma from Luffy, but the moment his fingers brush her hilt, she lashes out. Luffy’s surprised gasp tells Zoro that she is trying to talk to him, too, and Zoro is not fast enough to quell her.

Enma does not speak their words as much as she echoes thoughts and feelings of those who have existed around her. The impressions she pummels Zoro and Luffy with are in part Oden and in part Shimotsuki—she expresses her pride as a high-class weapon; she is a king among swords and rules alongside kings in kind. They share haki to strengthen each other and protect each other’s backs. Enma will never break as long as a king holds her and she will never allow her king-master to be slain.

Zoro’s own heart is reflected back at him. His lazy acceptance of the mantle of a king after Enma had bitten him, frustrated and excited because she could feel him about to hatch. Enma peeled the eggshell from his head and after twenty years she once again could proudly fight alongside a conqueror. 

But what’s this?

It turns out her king bows his head to another.

Zoro rips Enma from Luffy as she starts to echo parts of Zoro that he really would rather not think about, thank you very much. He can’t stop her from cackling in his own heart, however. Oh, such devotion. Oh, such loyalty. Oh, such love that Zoro would carry his crown between clenched teeth only to drop it at Luffy’s feet and curl around his captain, his eyes always facing that sun, a bitch warmed by the light of his master—

Zoro’s conqueror’s haki flares and Enma stops talking, though it is a smug silence.

Luffy frowns. “That was weird. Does Zoro’s sword have a crush on him?”

Because of course Luffy, who is—and Zoro cannot overstate this enough—not a swordsman, can grasp basic sword language after all.

“You can hear the voice of all things,” Zoro says heavily. “I should’ve known.”

Luffy blinks. “...So she does have a crush on you?”

Zoro bonks him on the head with Enma’s hilt. “No. Don’t listen to her. She’s trying to embarrass me.”

“Was that sword language?” Luffy asks, eyeing Enma with interest.

“No. Maybe. It could be, if you practiced. It’s more like forced empathy. You can understand it because you hear the voice of all things. But you can’t communicate back. Like with the sea kings, right?”

Luffy nods. “And Zunesha.”

“Enma kind of understands you anyway. Swords understand the hearts of all people. So you could probably communicate if you needed to. But sword language is simultaneous and effortless, once you learn it. I don’t even have to think or wonder about my swords. We just...know each other.”

“Nakama,” Luffy says. 

Zoro ruffles his hair until Luffy squawks. “Yeah, yeah; they’re my nakama. Can’t believe Enma barely bit you at all. She tried to kill me when we first met.”

“Well, obviously!” Luffy huffs. “Zoro is her nakama and I am Zoro’s nakama. She wouldn't hurt the nakama of her nakama!”

“...I don’t think it quite works that way.”

But it’s not all wrong either. Enma is still sneering at him for his weakness, but underneath her haughtiness she has pressed close to him. There is a different kind of understanding between them, now that she has met Luffy. She sees the man Zoro would fall to hell for and she respects his decision. It is her own way of accepting Luffy.

“So, Sandai Kitetsu?” Luffy asks. “I can hold her too, right?”

“You’re funny,” Zoro says. “No.”

“What! But Enma—”

Zoro holds up a hand. “I know. If Wado Ichimonji and Enma won’t hurt you, Kitetsu probably won’t either. But she is fundamentally different from them.” Zoro seals Enma and places her beside the other swords. “Wado Ichimonji and Enma are great-grade weapons. They are proud and powerful, but they respect their master’s heart as long as they have bonded well.

“Kitetsu is only graded. She is a good sword”—Zoro resists rolling his eye—“but she is strange. Regular graded swords should not yap away like she does. They should have less personality, not more. But Kitetsu has been talking to me since I walked into that swordsmith’s shop years ago. And she literally never shuts up.”

Luffy gives Zoro a blank stare. “So?”

Zoro does roll his eye this time. “So, why is she able to speak so freely? It’s weird. She’s the most independent of my swords and even though she listens to me and chose me, I still have this feeling that she is only playing along.”

“Kitetsu,” Luffy calls.

Kitetsu howls from her sheath.

Luffy falls onto his back, cracking up. “Haha! Zoro, she’s so funny. Such an interesting sword; I want to meet her!”

“You understand how that’s not helping, right? ‘Freak sword starts moaning as soon as you say her name’ isn’t really winning you or her any points, captain.”

“Aw, Zoro,” Luffy whines. “I think she likes me, though.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid of that.”

Oops. He admitted too much. Enma approximates a snort and Wado Ichimonji tinkles laughter.

“Ooo, is Zoro afraid Kitetsu will like me better? That’s funny too! Why would she like someone who can’t even cut with her?” Luffy mimes swinging a sword recklessly, grinning at Zoro in a way that savages his heart, squeezing and warming him until he can feel blood turn the tops of his ears hot.

The floor falls out from under Zoro’s feet suddenly. The danger sets in: Luffy was never under threat—it's Zoro's heart that is laid too bare by this play. He has to end this.

“No,” Zoro says with finality. “I don’t want Kitetsu in your hands.”

Zoro’s swords quiet at his tone, though Kitetsu still cries softly with loss.

The humor leaves Luffy as well. “Okay. If Zoro says so.”

They both go quiet. Zoro feels a little guilty for ending things on such an abrupt and awkward note, but it can’t be helped. Kitetsu is dangerous to Zoro in another’s hands. He kneels down to pick up Enma and Wado Ichimonji.

Coward.

Zoro startles so hard he drops them. The word comes through so clearly Zoro is shocked Luffy didn’t hear it, though he does look up at the sound of swords clattering. Wado Ichimonji is furious. Enma is disappointed. 

Zoro curls his lip and snatches them up, bearing his haki down on them until they go quiet and obedient. They are his. He is not obligated to share them with anyone, not even his captain. Is there something wrong with trusting his instincts? He knows in his heart not to give Kitetsu to Luffy. Something bad will happen. How is avoiding that future cowardly?

He snatches up Kitetsu too. She yields to him easily, subdued in her cries. 

He’s right, so why does he feel like such an asshole?

Zoro feels Kitetsu’s spirit reach for him. He resists the urge to bat her away in his irritation. But when she presses close to him, he is caught off guard by her feelings. A sword can only project what it has felt, and a cursed blade that has killed or maimed all its previous masters has plenty of anger and hate to echo.

But Kitetsu shares with Zoro only her love for him. She tells him again and again that she loves him, that she protects him, that she is watchful over him. Her hilt warms in his hand and Zoro can only look at her, shocked, as Kitetsu professes her affection. A sword cannot lie.

She wants only to share everything with him. 

Zoro’s surprise melts into embarrassment. “We’re not dating, you damn sword,” he mutters before realizing he probably looks insane to Luffy. Luffy blinks tolerantly at him. 

Zoro sighs.

“She wants to meet you,” he grumbles. 

“Zoro was scolded?” Luffy asks.

“Yeah, right,” Zoro scoffs. “I’m the boss of them, not the other way ‘round.” It sounds hollow even as he’s saying it. “Whatever. Take her and say hi.”

Luffy brightens and draws Kitetsu from her offered sheath.

Zoro doesn’t even have time to feel the satisfaction of ha, I was right as Kitetsu’s voice drowns out every other sound, including Wado Ichimonji and Enma’s alarm and Luffy’s own yip of surprise.

I

Have

Heard

So 

Much

About You

Luffy’s eyes cloud over as Kitetsu forces empathy upon him. She is a tidal wave of emotion. Unlike Enma, who is possible to defend against by skilled haki users, Kitetsu attacks where Luffy is weakest. Zoro, too, feels his knees go weak at the volume of chatter Kitetsu fills their hearts with.

What a freak. At least he’s interesting. God, I was so bored; so bored I could fucking die (lonely). At least he’s strong. Delusional idiot. At least it doesn’t hurt so (lonely) hurt so bad anymore.

He’s not all talk I guess. At least I won’t die if he’s here. It’s kind of funny. He’s kind of funny. At least I’m chasing my dream again.

Where the fuck did these other people come from? I’m a loner (lonely). This is such a drag. But...it’s kind of fun anyway.

Oh...I’m weak?

I’m weak? I said I would be the greatest. He said he would be the greatest, too. But he doesn’t lose. I lost. I lost. Fucking—after all this worthless pride, this is what I amount to? What a joke. This sucks. I’m a loser (and he’s—) who looks like he’s all talk (—he said he would—) now. Fuck it all (I promise). Fuck it all (I’ll promise this to you). I’ll never lose again (I will be worthy of this title, of this place, of you—)

“Kitetsu, don’t!” Zoro roars.

He is (incredible; he saved my life and he will never know; I thought he was leashing me but instead he laid down a path to my dream that I can never get lost on; he is worth my life; he is worth learning to love others for; he is home; he is the sun; he is worth this leash, I will tie it myself if I must; I will not leave his side; I will not let death separate us; I will claim hell as my own and beat down every other bloody fucking demon who lays eyes on him; he is mine; he is not mine; but he is ; I’ll take every single title and treasure and joy of this world; I will snatch them all and guard them like a dog with foam between its teeth; I will protect it all; all for him) Luffy.

He is my captain. My captain.

You stupid, stretchy little freak. Can’t you see how I adore you?

“Kitetsu,” Luffy commands.

Kitetsu’s pressure lifts so suddenly that Zoro does fall to his knees with a crash. She hums docile and content in Luffy’s hand, projecting absolute love and obedience.

Projecting Zoro.

He can’t say a word. He can only look up helplessly at Luffy and Kitetsu, unable to deny the truth of his nature. A sword cannot lie.

“Kitetsu,” Luffy says again, and her entire spirit bends towards Luffy. 

Luffy frowns. “You shouldn’t do that to a person’s heart.”

Kitetsu allows Luffy to chastise her. But, she reminds Luffy, this is how Zoro really feels. She would not betray him. And Zoro wants so badly for Luffy to know even a fraction of how Zoro loves him.

(Zoro could commit harakiri right now, and Luffy probably wouldn’t be fast enough to stop him.

Wado Ichimonji and Enma recover enough to remind him that he’s got another thing coming if he thinks they’ll let him kill himself over this.)

Luffy frowns harder. “I know. I’ve always known.”

Zoro’s breath hitches.

Kitetsu touches Luffy’s heart and for a moment, Zoro can hear Luffy through Kitetsu’s echoes. Oh, Luffy feels Zoro’s devotion. It is as fact to him as his two hands and two feet. Luffy knows Zoro will refuse to die, because to die is to leave Luffy’s side. He needs Zoro’s love like he needs incisors to tear into flesh. Need and want blend into one fact and that fact is no Zoro without Luffy, and no Luffy without Zoro.

Kitetsu is sated by this and calms down even further. 

“...Hey,” Luffy says weakly. “Kitetsu should ask first before talking about someone’s heart like that.”

Kitetsu titters back, but captain wanted Zoro to know that?

Zoro watches, incredulous, as Luffy flushes. “Still! It’s rude, Kitetsu! Rude!”

“Kitetsu.” Zoro finds his voice again. “Be good.”

Of course she will. Of course. She only has her master’s best interests in mind. He was so afraid of her falling into Luffy’s hands, but she will not betray either of them like that. She will be so good.

Zoro stills.

“Hm?” Luffy asks. “Zoro, what is Kitetsu talking about?”

“Nothing,” Zoro starts to say, but Kitetsu is already answering Luffy and Zoro has to stop her. “It was just a stupid thought that crossed my mind. Kitetsu isn’t a fine enough blade to possess someone; she could never overpower you like that. It was just an anxious exaggeration.” He glares daggers at his blade.

Kitetsu hums thoughtfully.

“Woah.” Luffy looks amazed. “There are swords that can possess people? That sounds kind of exciting. But also awful! Like Thriller Bark. Could I also become a swordsman if I was possessed?” Luffy tilts Kitetsu this way and that thoughtfully.

Kitetsu adds helpfully that she can’t possess him but that it definitely is possible and something that weighs on Zoro’s mind a lot lately. He’s even thinking about it right now.

“You can’t,” Zoro chokes out. “I won’t let you.”

“Hah? Why not?”

“Because you’ll lose yourself!” Zoro snaps. “Getting possessed is the biggest failure of a swordsman. If you can’t handle a blade, you shouldn’t pick it up. A blade that possesses someone kills indiscriminately. You would kill all your nakama, cut them open and—”

—cut me open—

Luffy gasps.

He looks at Kitetsu, wide-eyed. 

Zoro doesn’t need to be connected to her. He knows. She has watched carefully. 

There’s nothing to be done now. Zoro allows himself to feel the hopelessness of the situation. It’s strangely freeing, to have his heart bared to his captain. There’s nothing to be done. Luffy has seen, he has heard, and now all Zoro can do is await Luffy's judgment. He gets to his feet and crosses his arms with a sigh. He’d rather face execution standing up.

After all, when Zoro thinks about Luffy cutting him open, all he feels is ecstasy.

“Zoro,” Luffy asks again, slowly, “what is Kitetsu talking about?”

Kitetsu’s humming transforms into a purr. Her master isn’t honest enough to say what he wants to say. But Kitetsu is. She can show captain, if he wants to see.

Luffy’s eyes dart between Kitetsu and Zoro. “Zoro?” He asks uncertainly.

No

Leave

Him

Alone

Luffy flinches.

Kitetsu purrs louder. Captain asked. Captain wants to know. So she, Kitetsu, will tell him. 

See, Zoro isn’t really afraid of Luffy getting possessed. 

(No. The thought terrifies him. He doesn’t know if he can protect their nakama and Luffy at the same time. He doesn’t know how to choose and he knows Luffy will order him to save their nakama, and their nakama will order him to save Luffy.)

But what he thinks about isn’t real possession. What he thinks of is captain holding him at swordpoint. He thinks of his back against the wall. The ground. The bed. He thinks of her beneath his chin, lifting his head so that he must look captain in the eyes. And he thinks of her being disobedient enough to cut, to draw her master’s blood. Because captain ordered her too.

Luffy snarls a heated, “I would never—”

Oh, captain. He wants you to.

The damn funny part is Luffy doesn’t quite get it yet. He’s still frowning at Kitetsu. “Kitetsu, don’t lie like that.”

Captain is kind of dumb. Zoro was right about that, too.

“Hey!”

Zoro sighs. This is the worst execution ever. “A sword cannot lie,” he says.

Luffy turns his attention to Zoro, growling low in his throat. “Yeah, but Zoro, Kitetsu is saying you want me to hurt you. That doesn’t make any sense! You always get mad when I hit you or drop something on you or throw you off the Sunny.”

Zoro rubs the back of his head, agitated. “You’re missing the point.” This is so humiliating.

“Then Zoro should explain it to me! Kitetsu talks in riddles!”

“I’m not going to do that. Just forget about it. I told you at the start it was stupid.”

In one smooth motion, Luffy points Kitetsu at Zoro. “Don’t lie to me.” 

Zoro can tell. He can see how awkward Luffy’s grip on Kitetsu is. He points her with his arm locked straight, so easy for Zoro to disarm. Even Luffy’s scowl wobbles slightly, like he’s unsure if he should be doing this, if he should listen to what Kitetsu tells him. He’s so far from anything threatening that if it were any other person, any other sword, Zoro would’ve knocked it from his hand and laughed at him.

But this is Luffy and this is Kitetsu.

I Did This

For

You

Zoro can’t help it. He takes a step forward as if possessed, into Kitetsu’s space and lets her point press into the paper-thin skin of his neck. Luffy yelps and draws her back slightly but Zoro follows, chasing the pin-prick of pain. In their sheaths, Wado Ichimonji and Enma snarl, betrayed on his behalf. The pricking turns to burning and Kitetsu cuts her master.

Her steel is so fine. She is polite in her disobedience and cuts him cleanly, just enough to bleed. His skin burns hot and a single warm rivulet tumbles down his neck, so light it itches. Kitetsu wants to bite him more, hurt him more but she promised to be good. Captain is starting to freak out so she only licks at Zoro lovingly. It leaves Zoro panting.

Luffy yanks Kitetsu back, holding her above his head in surrender. “S-sorry, Zoro! I didn’t mean—!”

“Thank you,” Zoro whispers to his captain and his sword.

Luffy doesn’t get it. Won’t get it. And Zoro has already done a bad thing, taking something from Luffy that he didn’t understand he was giving. Disgust for himself clenches around Zoro’s heart even as his guts are hot and molten. Shame for feeling pleasure from it, and wanting more.

Kitetsu moans softly.

Luffy’s not looking great either. His breathing is uneven and he can’t seem to settle his fingers around Kitetsu’s hilt. Zoro understands. She is like a live wire of emotion, and for Luffy, who feels nothing from this, it must be overwhelming. 

Luffy lowers Kitetsu.

“You can give her back,” Zoro says. “She won’t act out anymore.”

Luffy makes as if to hand Kitetsu over to Zoro, but pauses.

“Zoro…” He starts. He’s looking at Kitetsu. “Zoro liked that?”

“Luffy, listen, don’t—”

“It felt good?”

Zoro and Kitetsu hiss in unison. Luffy has that almost distant look in his eyes, thinking.

“...It felt good.” Zoro picks his words very carefully. “But captain won’t get it.”

“I get it,” Luffy says sharply. “I’m not stupid.”

The cut throbs. “You’re not, but you don’t.”

“I do.”

Zoro sneers. “Oh, so suddenly it all makes sen—”

Luffy tightens his grip around Kitetsu, twists her blade, and flicks her edge against the crease of Zoro’s neck and shoulder.

Zoro almost snarls. Kitetsu cuts cold and leaves a trail of burning. His hand flies automatically to his shoulder and the skin there is hot and slightly damp. His chest heaves.

Luffy steps close to Zoro, until they are chest to chest. “Don’t look down on me. Just because I don’t feel it like you do doesn’t mean I don’t understand. It turns you on,” Luffy says, and Zoro finds he can’t breathe, “to be cut by me. By your own sword.”

“Luffy,” Zoro growls.

But Luffy is more interested in the cut Kitetsu made. He touches the wound. It stings Zoro and dyes Luffy’s fingertips dark. “It matters that it’s me. And it matters that it’s Kitetsu. Why?"

“It is right to put my life in your hands,” Zoro says. It’s so easy to say now that Luffy has asked. “I trust you and them with my life, always. But I want to—want to feel it.” Luffy presses his fingers into the cut and Zoro gasps.

“Feel it? How?”

“By being helpless before you,” Zoro slurs. “You can have my weapons, my defenses. It doesn’t matter what you do. I’ll die for you if you want. It...it feels good to hurt for you.”

“Stupid Zoro. Why would I kill you?”

“Luffy.” Zoro’s veins pop in his clenched fists as he resists moving. Don’t tease me, he wants to snap, but Luffy isn’t in normal condition either. He’s not angry, or repulsed, but his energy is strange. Intense.

Luffy’s touch softens. He pets at the rough little hairs at the base of Zoro’s neck. “It really feels good when I hurt you?”

“So good,” Zoro says, brushing his cheek against Luffy’s and breathing softly into his ear. Luffy shivers. 

Zoro is ravenous. Touching Luffy only makes the starving, yawning pit in his chest open wider. He wants to kiss Luffy’s jaw, sink to his knees so he can bite at Luffy’s stomach. He resists. He does nothing but rub his cheek against Luffy’s like a pet.

Luffy's demeanor changes slightly and he straightens. "Don't touch me," Luffy orders.

Zoro jumps back as if burned. Heart racing in his throat, he almost blurts out an apology until he sees Luffy's expression. Luffy is thoughtful, open.

"Zoro obeys me so well," Luffy says, almost a question.

"You are my captain," Zoro says. What a stupid question.

"...It's strange," Luffy says. His chest rises and falls too fast. "Thinking about Zoro being hurt and hurting Zoro—I don't like it. I don't want it. But when Zoro says he wants to feel it…wants to obey …"

Zoro's guts coil, hot and tight.

"It'll be too hard, right? To sit still while I cut you. Zoro can't do it."

Luffy doesn't mean it as a challenge. He's thoughtful, Kitetsu resting on his shoulder, probably trying to imagine being cut himself. But Luffy is not a swordsman and Luffy does not worship the fucking ground he walks on, so he will never understand.

"You cannot possibly," Zoro says in a low voice, "hurt me in a way that would not please me."

That isn't a challenge either—it is a fact burned into Zoro's mind and body.

Luffy taps Kitetsu against his shoulder. 

"Okay," he agrees after a moment. "I believe Zoro."

And then, "Will you let me see it?"

Surely Luffy doesn’t mean it, not in the way Zoro is thinking. But if he does... "You don't have to ask permission for that."

"I do," Luffy says sharply. "You are not a toy to be played with."

That gives Zoro pause. He may be devoted, but even Zoro had limits. He simply, blindly, trusted Luffy to know those limits. But Luffy is not someone to make casual and careless assumptions about what a person does and does not want. 

Zoro gets on his knees one at a time, sitting back on his heels. "Then I have two rules." Luffy hums affirmation. "One, no marks on my back. Two, Captain should only do something if he wants to do it, not because I asked."

Luffy breaks into a smile and Zoro's heart whumps against his ribcage pathetically. "A good rule! I like it!"

He turns his eyes skyward. "Then…my rule is for Zoro to do exactly what I say! But I'm stupid. So tell me if I'm wrong."

"He admits it," Zoro says, rolling his eye.

Luffy's smile gains an edge to it.

"Zoro," Luffy says. "Show me your throat."

Luffy's pressure crashes down around him and Zoro's stomach swoops. Luffy is a curious predator; prodding at Zoro to see if he is prey or foe. Luffy should know better. If it’s a fight he wants, he’s not going to get it.

Swallowing thickly, Zoro tilts his head back to bare his throat to Luffy.

He watches through a half-lidded eye as Luffy steps into his space. Luffy runs the back of his knuckles up Zoro’s throat, bumping over his Adam’s apple and chin. The pads of his fingers caress the shape of Zoro’s jaw and the soft lines of his neck. He hums thoughtfully, as if Zoro is an interesting relic he’s turning over in his hand and not his first mate offering himself up on a platter. Luffy wraps his fingers around Zoro’s neck without any pressure. He lets Zoro feel the heat of him; memorize how his palm slots neatly under Zoro’s chin. Zoro’s heartbeat throbs against Luffy’s hand and he is, despite his fiercest efforts, miserably hard.

He holds Luffy’s gaze but Luffy breaks first, grimacing.

“Cover your eyes,” Luffy says and lets him go. 

Zoro doesn’t question the order. He unties his bandana from his arm and obediently secures it over his eyes. With observation haki as good as his, losing sight in his remaining eye doesn’t really make a difference, but he understands that this is a rule of Luffy’s as opposed to a desire to deprive him of his senses.

It’s strangely exhilarating, imagining himself on his knees in front of Luffy blindfolded. Like he really is getting executed this time. All of Zoro’s senses stand at attention and his mouth fills with saliva.

The flat of Kitetsu’s blade presses cold against Zoro’s cheek. “Zoro,” Luffy scolds. “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Zoro swallows tightly. God, he is pathetic. He turns his head and presses his tongue to Kitetsu, lapping at her.

Kitetsu and Luffy shiver in unison.

“Kitetsu,” Luffy calls.

Kitetsu whines wantonly.

“Obey me,” Luffy commands.

She goes quiet for a moment, so quiet even Zoro can’t hear her spirit. Her affirmation is subdued but as shocking as if she shouted it. She should not serve another. Wado Ichimonji and Enma protest with a roar. They vibrate so hard that they rattle in their sheaths.

“Be quiet,” Luffy snaps at them. “You just watch.”

The rattling stops at Luffy's command but they continue to roil in disbelief.

To Zoro, he says lightly, “Zoro, I’m going to start now.”

Zoro’s haki flares subconsciously and he tracks Kitetsu’s motion. He can sense Luffy waffling over where to strike Zoro first before finally deciding on his shoulder. Luffy digs Kitetsu’s point into the meat of Zoro’s shoulder and drags her across his chest, stopping before he reaches the scar bisecting Zoro’s body. Kitetsu nips sweetly at him without drawing blood and sends frissoning prickles down Zoro’s spine. His hair stands on end.

Zoro breathes evenly.

After verifying Zoro’s lack of resistance, Luffy tries again, dragging Kitetsu down Zoro’s arm, shoulder to elbow. Still she resists drawing blood. She tickles and teases white patterns into Zoro’s tanned skin but does not bite. It takes Zoro’s numb mind longer than it should to realize her delighted laughter is turned at Luffy and not him.

“You’ll never draw blood like that,” Zoro says once he’s able to gather the words.

“I know,” Luffy grumbles. “I’m working up my nerve.”

Zoro huffs. “Didn’t I tell you only to do what you want? If you can't, don't force yourself.”

“I want to see it,” Luffy says seriously. 

“Then trust Kitetsu more,” Zoro says. “She knows this part of my heart better than anyone.”

Kitetsu replies that she is waiting on captain. Zoro has been prepared for this from the start.

Wordlessly, Luffy presses Kitetsu below Zoro’s collarbone. Her blade rests against him gently for a moment, then in a smooth motion, Luffy draws her against Zoro’s skin and he sucks in a breath as she gives him a shallow cut along the line of his clavicle. The burning shifts from Zoro’s neck to the new cut and the other gives a dull throb of acknowledgement. 

Luffy’s hesitation vanishes. Kitetsu hums in satisfaction as she crosshatches Zoro’s chest with a handful of shallow slashes that bead hot blood. Zoro doesn’t flinch. She’s such a fine blade that it doesn’t even hurt. The burning itches more than anything.

“Oh, wow,” Luffy says, awed. “Zoro can take it.”

...Fuck this guy for real. Zoro’s cock throbs.

“Of course I can,” he says, scowling. “Kitetsu, don’t be such a pussy. You’re sharper than this.”

Kitetsu replies that she didn’t want to scare captain. She might as well have been whistling and avoiding his eyes. 

“Luffy,” Zoro says gruffly. “Harder.”

Zoro can feel Luffy go still. A moment later he grumbles, “I’m the one giving orders,” but he settles into a more serious stance.

Luffy goes for his ribs next. And he means it.

Luffy drives Kitetsu’s point between Zoro’s ribs and she pierces him as if through water. Zoro’s mouth falls open as he gasps but Luffy doesn’t withdraw her. He drags her slow, carving an arc that follows Zoro’s ribcage. Zoro’s back spasms unconsciously and he sweats like a sinner. When Luffy finally pulls out Kitetsu, the air smells raw and metallic.

Luffy gets on his knees in front of Zoro, close enough to kiss. Luffy gently prods the hot, inflamed area around the wound. And then, with equal tenderness, he presses his fingers into the cut.

“Fuck,” Zoro snarls. He bites his lip against the urge to recoil.

“Take it,” Luffy orders.

There’s a question in there though that is pissing Zoro off. He’s bled himself dry and been riddled with holes how many times for this man?

“I can take it,” he spits. “Obviously.”

Luffy tests him immediately by pushing his fingers further in. Zoro’s lip curls but he doesn’t make a sound. 

“Mm,” Luffy says. “Zoro is so hot.”

As if that’ll—

“You feel good. Alive and warm and strong. I’m the only one who’s been inside Zoro like this?”

And Zoro whines. Like the mutt that he is.

“Don’t touch me,” Luffy says again. He leans close to press his cheek to Zoro’s and rub them together softly, returning Zoro’s earlier gesture. He is sweet even as his fingers push against the muscle and bone of Zoro's ribs. Even as Zoro's entire being squirms against the intrusion while simultaneously making him shiver and squeeze his legs together. Luffy caresses one of his ribs with a delighted, wondering noise.

Zoro imagines Luffy yanking the rib out of his chest and it makes his balls ache.

Luffy pulls his fingers out of Zoro after a minute or two of exploration and the wrongness hurts enough for Zoro to grunt. He feels stupidly bereft, like something has been stolen from him.

Luffy touches Kitetsu with his bloodied fingers and she wails hungrily. She wants more. Needs to go deeper.

"Greedy," Luffy murmurs.

Luffy heeds her. His next cuts are deep. Serious enough to drip lines of blood down Zoro’s chest and arms. The blood congeals and cracks on his skin, leaving him feeling both damp and dusty at the same time. Kitetsu is more clever than Luffy will ever be able to tell. She dances against Zoro’s skin, dulling herself against arteries and delicate muscle strands all while cutting veins and old scar tissue freely. She bites deep enough to turn her blade red but Zoro is in no danger from the damage she does. All while Luffy draws her in thoughtless patterns over Zoro’s bare skin.

She is such an incredible sword. Each strike professes her love for her master and her pride that he is able to bear her wounds. And with each strike, she slyly relays Luffy’s slow burning frenzy as his strokes against Zoro no longer cause Zoro to flinch. Luffy wonders how Zoro can bear it. He wonders about Zoro’s limit like one might wonder about the weather. Luffy’s bloodlust makes Zoro burn even hotter.

Pain and pleasure cross wires in Zoro’s head and as the cuts cool they only serve to burn his nerves and fry his spine. His breathing pulls on the wounds and the tugging sends jolts of desire through his guts. His organs are a gooey, sticky mess. He is dripping and numb and aching all at the same time.

—Yes, yes, my life in your hands—

“Zoro is such a pervert,” Luffy murmurs, voice thick.

“Impale me,” Zoro begs, and Luffy, as if he truly is possessed, runs Zoro through with his sword.

Zoro’s abdomen clenches—holy shit, he will never get used to that feeling—and he gags in pain. The muscle spasms are involuntary and send terrible lightning strikes of hurt radiating from his abdomen. Kitetsu's foreign intrusion is so cold it burns, and after the initial shock that numbs him, the pain advances like a returning tidal wave and crashes around his skull.

Luffy is against him in a moment, curled into Zoro’s shoulder and pressed against Zoro’s undamaged side. Luffy frets about Zoro wordlessly. He is warm and soft and a perfect balm to the pain until he starts to pull Kitetsu out.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Zoro snarls, except he’s drooling so it comes out slurred and desparate. 

“Zoro is—”

“You’re perfect,” Zoro says. “I love you.”

He doesn’t mean to earn a squeak at the unexpected declaration, but cherishes it all the same. He is Luffy’s sword. He cannot lie.

“Love you,” he says again for good measure. “Feels so good.”

“It’s hurting you,” Luffy frets. 

“Yeah,” Zoro says. “And—Kitetsu is telling you, yeah?”

Luffy’s hand is still on Kitetsu’s hilt. Which means he can definitely hear her moaning in ecstasy at being inside Zoro, as close as a sword and her master can be. Which means she is certainly projecting, loud and clear, how Zoro wishes Luffy could fuck him like Kitetsu can, pierce him until he is soaked through and trembling. How easy Zoro is for him. How he won't accept Luffy withdrawing Kitetsu unless it's to replace her with his own cock fucking into the hole he's made.

Zoro can’t see it, but he can feel how Luffy is flushed to his ears. Amazingly, he stays pressed to Zoro’s side.

Even more amazing is that, even though he keeps a tight lid on it, Zoro can feel ripples from Luffy through Kitetsu that he is turned on, too.

“I did this,” Luffy says softly.

His hair tickles Zoro’s jaw and Zoro jolts as Luffy begins to lick at the wounds on Zoro’s neck and shoulders. Tentative, gentle laps at first, then heavier. A fierce beast soothing the wounds of his captured prey. Luffy’s aura rises as he tastes Zoro’s blood. It is cloying—enormously protective, overbearingly possessive. Luffy bites at one of the cuts with a little growl Zoro isn’t sure he realizes he’s making. He stakes his claim and Zoro opens himself up to it. Yearns for it, even.

“I wish you could behead me,” Zoro slurs. 

Luffy goes rigid.

“You would be perfect,” Zoro says. “One clean motion. You're strong enough for it. For one moment I would feel so good. And then, after, I want you to sew my head back on my body so you can do it again, but slowly this time. Cut my throat open bit by bit until I can’t speak or breathe. I wish I could die twice.”

“Zoro,” Luffy says sharply.

“Don’t deny me,” Zoro begs. “Please.”

Luffy looses some of the tension from his shoulders. He presses his cheek to Zoro’s shoulder. “I won’t.” 

“You’re the only one allowed to take my life,” Zoro says.

Luffy hums, displeased. “That’s too bad, then. Zoro isn’t allowed to die once, let alone twice.”

Zoro has to laugh. “Typical captain. But I already knew you’d say that. I just had to tell you.”

Luffy lets them sit in satisfied silence for a moment before he says, "Got too excited. How do I take out your stupid sword?"

"You don't," Zoro says. "Crazy ass. Leave it to the swordsman."

Luffy relinquishes his grip on Kitetsu and Zoro takes her in both hands. Kitetsu purrs at the fit. Zoro wiggles her slightly ( ow ) to get a feeling of her angle and then pulls her out before he can think too hard about it. He moans at the pain but he isn't bleeding too badly. Kitetsu was good—she avoided his organs the way only skilled and spirited swords could. Zoro is panting and practically dehydrated from sweating, but nothing some gauze from Chopper wouldn't fix.

Luffy's hands touch Zoro's temples and Luffy removes the bandana from over Zoro's eyes. He ties it around Zoro's arm messily. 

Zoro follows Luffy's motions the moment he can see. Luffy really is flushed, lips pouted in an attempt to not look royally embarrassed and pleased. It is not working.

"Will you fuck me?" Zoro asks. "Through Kitetsu's hole?"

Luffy huffs.

Couldn't hurt to ask at least.

"A pervert for real," Luffy grumbles.

"Can I touch you?" Zoro asks.

Luffy hesitates and doesn't meet his eyes. "A little."

"Nice sidestep. I'll ask again—can I touch you?"

Luffy growls. He hates being outwitted. "No," he snaps, though the frustration is turned inwards rather than at Zoro. "I want to touch Zoro instead."

"Of course." He leans towards Luffy in affirmation. Luffy turns his restless energy to petting Zoro's hair again, still glued firmly to Zoro's side.

Zoro intends to return Kitetsu to her sheath, but she is so affectionate and loath to leave him and Luffy that he can do nothing but sigh and continue to hold her.

“Zoro wants to become mine.”

Luffy’s voice is small, controlled. Zoro still can’t get a read on him.

“Already am,” Zoro promises. “You had to know. Luffy.”

Luffy rolls his shoulders back. His toes wiggle in his sandals. The petting morphs into absentminded tugging. But he doesn’t want to leave Zoro. That suits Zoro just fine.

“I knew,” Luffy says quietly. “You were always looking at me.”

Zoro balks. Had he really been so skeevy as to—

“No,” Luffy says, correctly reading Zoro’s body language. “Not like—Zoro was always just. Looking. Your eye always found me. You would look at my hands. My shoulders. My hat. My sandals. And then you would look away after a while. Like you were just making sure I was still all there.”

“What else would I look at?” Zoro grumbles.

The tugging becomes real pulling. “Zoro’s attention feels good.”

Zoro’s eye widens. He leans back to look at Luffy. “You—” But you don’t feel that. For anyone.

“Can’t explain,” Luffy says. He whines, frustrated, low in his throat.

Oh

I Can

If

Captain Allows

Kitetsu, still clenched in Zoro's hand, speaks up.

“Kitetsu,” Luffy orders. “Tell Zoro.”

—Zoro is looking at him like that again. The way people look at Luffy sometimes that he can’t stand. He’s fine with the looks of fear and disgust at his monstrous body. But he hates this. He hates being looked at like there’s something they want to take from him. He is a pirate; he never gives up anything that belongs to him.

Zoro’s way of looking at him is different, though. Zoro doesn’t want anything from him. It’s like Zoro needs to remind himself that Luffy’s feet are still attached to him, or that his shirt is still the same kind of red it’s always been. And when he does, Zoro looks satisfied. Appreciative that Luffy is still just Luffy. It makes Luffy puff out his chest and tilt his head into the wind. Something squirms inside him as he basks in Zoro’s gaze. He wiggles his toes.

It’s okay for Zoro to look at him. Zoro never goes too far.

The squirming gets worse at the strangest times. Luffy says Zoro’s name and across the ship, Zoro wakes from a dead sleep and calls out to Luffy. Even if he’s annoyed, he always wakes up. If Luffy tells Zoro to attack, he will attack. If Luffy tells Zoro to stop, he will stop. Zoro is so powerful (Zoro is a king now, like him!) but he doesn’t even think to protest. To Luffy, Zoro is fact. Certainty.

It makes something inside Luffy burn.

He doesn’t understand it, and that makes him restless. He knows his body and his heart and his mind, but this feeling evades him. It skitters away when he tries to touch it, and only draws near when he is shoulder to shoulder with Zoro. When they are alone, it’s like he could reach out and grab it. 

He knows what it means to want sex. He is not as immune as the crew thinks just because he feels nothing when he looks at another’s body. He wants it.

When Zoro acts like that, when he gives himself over to Luffy completely, when he professes absolute devotion through his actions, that want becomes less abstract. It solidifies into a name, a person—

“You—” Zoro’s ears are ringing. “But…really?”

Luffy’s arms creep up to wrap around Zoro’s shoulders. “Trust Zoro with it,” Luffy says softly, pressing his cheek to Zoro’s again. “Trust Zoro with me.”

Zoro carefully unclenches his fist. He's afraid to ask. "Then…?"

"Touch me," Luffy whispers.

Tentatively, Zoro lowers Kitetsu to the ground. He gently presses his hands to Luffy’s back. One hand over the wing of his shoulder blade. The other draped across the stripe of Luffy’s spine. He waits for Luffy to flinch away. But Luffy doesn’t. He presses harder, pulling Luffy against him, and Luffy doesn’t protest.

Incredulous, Zoro slides the hand on Luffy’s back down to hold his hip and Luffy wriggles against him with a soft whine.

“You. Are.” Zoro grits out through clenched teeth. “So.” And then he growls, unable to find the words.

“Zoro wants me?” Luffy asks into his ear.

“Shut the hell up,” Zoro says. “I always want you. And I’m about to die before I get the chance to have you.”

Luffy makes a pleased noise and pushes his body against Zoro’s like an affectionate animal. 

Part of Zoro’s heart caves in on itself and he allows himself a sliver of vulnerability. “Luffy. What if I hurt you?”

“Won’t,” Luffy denies easily. “Zoro is so loyal. So loyal and good, like his swords. If I tell Zoro to stop, he will stop.” Zoro can feel Luffy smiling into his skin. “Zoro will behave, or I will cut him.”

Kitetsu laughs quietly.

“Ah? Zoro is blushing!” Luffy crows.

“Am not,” Zoro snaps. He refuses to meet Luffy’s eyes. “Why do I tell you anything? Besides, that,” he nips at Luffy’s shoulder, “does not count as punishment.”

Luffy leans back so he can examine Kitetsu. “Hmm...I still don’t get it—”

“Told you so.”

“—but I don’t dislike it either. It was kind of fun when it wasn't scary. And Zoro is really so amazing, to take all that pain and still…"

Zoro groans. "I don't want to hear about how amazing my libido is from you."

"But it is! I would have gotten fed up and kicked your ass by now. But Zoro sat through everything without complaint and even liked it."

"The worst part is that you will talk like this and I still want to blow you."

"No thank you!"

"Figures."

Luffy snuggles against Zoro again, tucking himself under Zoro's chin. His eyes are still on Kitetsu.

"...Berry for your thoughts?" Zoro asks. 

"Is Sandai Kitetsu a bad sword for letting me cut you?"

Zoro hums. "You like her, huh?"

Luffy nods. 

Zoro drapes his arms loosely over Luffy's shoulders. "She is a bad sword," he says finally.

Kitetsu withdraws within herself and Wado Ichimonji and Enma finally still in their roiling.

"She's not!" Luffy protests with furrowed brows. "She only did what you wanted!"

"She is a bad sword because she cut me at all," Zoro says. "There's a reason I found her in the bargain barrel of swords even though she is named and graded. Any skilled swordsman worth his salt would discard a blade that decided to cut him on a whim."

Zoro sighs. "So maybe I'm not that great after all, since I still love her."

Luffy huffs. "Stupid rule. Kitetsu is really interesting and cool. She's the best of all."

"Well, it's not like I ever played by the rules in the first place. Couldn't be bothered to master one sword style; couldn't be bothered to learn Wado Ichimonji's name; couldn't be bothered to fear a cursed blade…" Zoro frowns. Now that he thinks about it, he's every bit as wayward as his captain. "Whatever. Her home is with me. We chose each other, and she'll have to cut me quite a bit deeper to get away from me."

King had mocked him for risking his life for his swords. And yes, it made sense to risk it for Enma, the once-in-a-lifetime king's blade. And for Wado Ichimonji, his one keepsake of Kuina and lifelong companion. 

Kitetsu is no miracle blade; she is no treasured relic. She is just a scrappy, troublesome kid who's more trouble than she's worth. She is feared and disregarded in turn. But she's worth every drop of blood and sweat Zoro has sunk into caring for her, and she will never betray his love.

"She's like you," Zoro mumbles.

Luffy makes an inquisitive noise, then laughs. "Ha! I guess we both are pretty cool. And lots of people yell at us. And Zoro loves us so much."

"Oi."

"My sword shouldn't lie to me."

No one is more disappointed in Zoro than himself that that earns a full-face flush. "Never letting you talk to my swords again," he gripes.

Luffy stretches his arms to grab Zoro's swords and pull them into his lap. Luffy runs his fingers over each of them, from blood-soaked Kitetsu to grand Enma to zen Wado Ichimonji. They acknowledge Luffy's touch with a flutter of their spirits stretching to brush against him. 

"Sandai Kitetsu. Enma. Wado Ichimonji." Luffy names them all again. "Thank you for looking after everyone until now. I'm sorry I didn't welcome you to the crew sooner. You're nakama."

Yes, our captain .

"And I love Zoro," Luffy says, like he didn't just crack a boulder over Zoro's head, "so I'm counting on you."

Obviously, captain .

Luffy scowls. "Zoro's swords are a little too much like him."

He turns to Zoro to complain and Zoro meets him in a kiss. Luffy melts against him. Zoro slides their lips together lazily, trying not to get worked up from how Luffy opens to him so easily. Luffy, who didn't understand what it meant not to put up a fight, lets Zoro lick him boneless.

Luffy's cheeks are dusted pink when Zoro finally looks at him. He meets Zoro's gaze with half-lidded eyes that don't widen under Zoro's scrutiny. He just…allows himself to look kissed silly and lovesick.

"You're so embarrassing," Zoro sighs.

"Mm," Luffy mumbles. "Love you." 

Zoro wants to grit his teeth and scream it. I love you, I love you, I fucking love you, do you have any idea? The worlds I would carve in two; the skies I would tear down; the very fabric of reality I would rip apart with my bare hands, if it's what you wanted? The people I would kill and the people I would save. I would become the fiercest beast that ever lived and set every creature running when my shadow crosses their path at a single word from you. Do you have any idea?

"Zoro," Luffy orders.

"Yes?"

"Kiss," he says, pouting.

Zoro exhales his vicious devotion. In Luffy's lap, Zoro's swords cease their trembling. 

…Whatever. It's probably better not to destroy the world with his love, because that would mean he wouldn't be able to keep doing this.

"Yes, captain," Zoro says, and kisses him again.