ZoSan: The Flower

Chapter 2 - Zoro

A few of the small blood-spotted white flowers floated beside the small boat as Zoro pulled his head back inside of it and wiped his mouth. It was getting worse. He gave a weak grimace at the thought. Of course it was, it was killing him, just as the poem promised. It was just too bad that the fragrant flowers didn't taste as good as they always smelled - he'd chosen not to bring food, hoping that he might die from hunger rather than the stupid blossoms.

It had been the smell that had drawn him to that quiet little area nearly three months ago. The aroma of the flowers had been so potent that he'd smelled it from quite a ways off, and found himself following it, only to find himself in a small field of flowering bushes. The soft petals were held up by the thick stems, a balance between pretty and strong. A balance that he'd always found attractive. That had been what brought him too close. He'd even considered lopping off a few flowering twigs and putting them in water in the galley. It was where the crew most frequently gathered, after all, and some well-placed flowers could be a nice addition to the Sunny.

He was glad now that he hadn't carried through with that spontaneous thought, that he had seen the graves below the bushes and decided that taking a few branches might qualify as desecration. What would he have done if it had infected Sanji, who always had some girl that he "loved", or Usopp, wth his love for Kaya, who was far away back in the East Blue? Or Robin and Franky who seemed to be growing ever closer? He couldn't even say for certain that Luffy, Chopper, Nami, or Brook were immune. They never talked about love, any of them, but that didn't mean they didn't suffer from it.

He was under no delusions about his feelings for a certain blond cook, feelings that had been growing and changing since the Davy Back challenges - the first time they'd really teamed up instead of fighting separate battles in the same place. The ten seconds that they'd asked each other for had turned into the catalyst for the antagonizing friendship that they still shared.

Zoro had never hated the cook. He didn't always understand him, especially at first, and often the curly bastard annoyed him. But there was always the undercurrent of respect and even trust between them. They knew their own strength, knew each other's strength, and trusted the other to have their back when it came to it. And when trust and respect had become admiration and even affection, Zoro had barely questioned it.

And then came Thriller Bark, and the fight against Moria, Oars, and Kuma. It had been the hardest they'd had. Oars had caught the cook and swung him around in his fist, and Zoro's heart had done strange, panicky things that he wasn't used to. Then dawn had come, and they'd almost lost but they hadn't. Zoro had felt his body burning away even as he saw Sanji's do the same and he'd tried to cry out for his friend as the rest of the crew stood horrified. When the moment ended and their shadows rejoined them, Zoro's relief hadn't been for himself, not at first. Right when Zoro had been about at his limit facing Kuma barely a few minutes later, Sanji had come swooping in with a kick that had made those strong legs shake for a while after. And when Sanji stood on those still shaky legs and tried to take his place when he was offering his life for Luffy's, Zoro's only thought had been, 'Not him.'

It had taken all of the fights after and most of the two years of separation before he'd dared speak the word aloud, even to himself, but by the time they'd all reunited, he had accepted it. Just as he'd accepted that nothing would ever come of it. Sanji was, after all, the ladies' man, the love-cook. But about a week after his visit to the little grove, the pain of watching Sanji flirt with Nami and Robin was different. More physical than emotional, and he couldn't seem to quite distract himself from it or meditate it away. He wrote it off with the thought that there was a reason it was called heartache.

It was another week later that he finally went to Chopper, and nearly two more before Chopper found the text with the poem and picture of the flower. By then the coughing had started. Chopper had taken him in for surgery as soon as it was feasible, carefully timing it after a bad fight that actually had resulted in injury to respect Zoro's wish that it be kept quiet. The little doctor hadn't been able to remove it all, but seemed to have bought Zoro some time. It was a month later when Zoro coughed up the first flower bud. Surprisingly, it hadn't included blood, not at first. But it hurt enough so that he'd had to lighten his workouts to try to reduce the pressure on his chest. It worked, for the most part, except when Sanji was too close, or did one of the various things that made it hard for Zoro not to kiss him on the spot.

He and Chopper finally told Luffy two weeks ago, when Luffy had found a blood splattered flower like now floated in the water. Zoro had had to beg his captain not to tell, had to disobey one of the rare direct orders he was given. Hopefully Luffy'd forgive him for that. It had taken all the cajoling he had in him to get the captain's permission to leave, to sacrifice his own peace for the sake of the crew one more time. And the hardest of all, he'd left his swords behind with a final, sentimental favor requested of Luffy: "Plant them in the ground at the end of the Grand Line, so that some part of me is with you through the whole journey."

It hadn't been the ending he wanted, especially not for Kuina's sword. He was supposed to go out in a fight, but not for a few decades yet. Not until he was old enough so he'd slowed down just a little. The world's greatest swordsman and friend to the King of Pirates, finally giving his title to the next generation's best candidate. That was the ending he'd always pictured for himself. But that wasn't the ending he was going to get. He was going to die alone — in a boat, if he was lucky enough not to get capsized by a storm — being swayed into final sleep by the waves that rocked him now. Protecting his nakama one more time. Well, there are still worse endings to have.

Another cough rose in Zoro's throat, and he barely made it over the edge before more bloody flowers made their appearance, splatting against the water. They're getting bigger, he realized. How much longer did he have?

He wiped his face again and laid back down in the bobbing boat, letting himself drift into a daydream about a strong-legged, curly-browed blond.