Chapter Text
The world slowly fades in, and Zoro first experiences a smell. The sharp scent of rubber, metal, and general musk infiltrates his nose and brain. It’s a scent Zoro could recognize anywhere, any time because it’s the distinct smell of his captain. His nose is buried in Luffy’s arm, his head knocking against said rubbery, strong arm with each step Luffy takes. Zoro’s torso is laid on Luffy’s shoulders, one arm crossed over Luffy’s front and the other dangling at his captain’s back. Luffy’s carrying him. Why?
Why Luffy is carrying Zoro is quickly discovered when a sharp flash of pain crashes through Zoro’s legs and torso. His upper thighs are so pained that Zoro almost lets out a noise of displeasure. Instead, the swordsman sighs heavily, shutting his eyes a little tighter. This sigh doesn’t go unnoticed, as Luffy quickly goes, ‘Oh!’ in response.
“Mornin' Zoro! I thought you were totally passed out.” In reply, Zoro can only let out a stifled grunt, trying to lift himself away from Luffy’s arm. He now understands why everyone gets on his ass for not bathing for a week. His attempt is fruitless, as Zoro’s abdomen sends a wave of aching in response. “You probably shouldn’t do that. You’re kinda messed up right now, haha!” Luffy’s voice is a little strained but still mostly the same. Though Zoro finally identifies the scent of metal, seeing as Luffy is covered in blood himself. The ground crunches beneath Luffy’s sandals, and Zoro finally manages the strength to open one eye. His face is pointed to the ground, and he sees about the same sight as when he’d first fallen. A barrage of destructive attacks had ruined a large, expansive forest. Luffy jumps over fallen trees with trunks many times his width. He steps on small flowers and ferns, crushing them beneath his ruined sandals. Though, Zoro notices the streak of dried blood running down his leg.
For the first time, Zoro finds himself on the other side of the question. “What happened?” He says, his voice gravely and pained. It even hurts to breathe. Luffy adjusts Zoro on his back a little, humming a bit as he tries to find an answer.
“You passed out, and I found you.”
“What happened before that?”
“Uh, I dunno? I finished up my fight and was looking for everyone.”
“Is my guy dead? The one with the six arms?”
“He looked pretty dead.” Zoro lets himself relax slightly. Being carried is a little foreign to him. Because Luffy is made of rubber, his warmth is slightly different than most. It’s a searing warmth that can burn if just a little too hot, but suddenly, it will go frigid, the only heat provided by blood moving through Luffy’s veins. Zoro’s captain’s grip is relaxed, but the pressure of his fingers around Zoro’s hand still carries that Luffy-specific care that he’ll give to anyone or anything he likes. It’s where it feels like Luffy can hear each one of your thoughts but chooses not to remark on them.
“Islands in the south~ are warm~,” Luffy sings to himself, continuing to traverse the forest as if the man on his back weighs nothing. “Pina-purupuru~ Their heads get really hot~,” he continues, the soft song drifting to Zoro’s ears. Zoro doesn’t know this song, but he’s heard Luffy sing it to himself when bored or doing chores. The swordsman just quietly closes his eye, letting himself relax a little into the grip of his captain. Around them, the forest is calm, and though Zoro cannot see the sky, he has reason to believe it’s perfectly clear. The swords on Zoro’s hip clatter against one of Luffy’s shoulders, the sounds of their sheaths synchronized with each of Luffy’s steps. For some reason, despite the pain and stress, Zoro finds this arrangement a little peaceful. Maybe it’s the boy carrying him, or maybe it’s just how much Zoro trusts the boy carrying him.
It doesn’t take long for Zoro to drift back into the gentle waters of unconsciousness, his mind at ease as it floats around dark, quiet waters.