Love/Hate -Zoro-

-Eighteen-

It was time for your twelve-week check-up. This time, Zoro got to come with you. Apparently, they wanted to make sure at twelve weeks that you were still healthy because of your eggs being fried. That means that you could have a miscarriage much easier than others. Usually, after twelve weeks was when you were in what they called the 'safe zone'. You smiled at the same woman who saw you before.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Kureha," She says while extending a hand to Zoro. He takes it with a firm shake and nods.

"Zoro."

"Well, I'm going to guess the dad was indeed excited?" She asks while looking at you. You covered your face to hide from Zoro, embarrassed that she remembered your troubled mind.

"Yeah, he was," You whisper. She laughs at your reaction and sighs, lifting your shirt and tucking the harsh paper under the waistband of your sweats. The warm gel hits your abdomen yet again and you breathe deeply, waiting to see the same image portrayed on the screen last time. Dr. Kureha hummed until she landed where she was needing to be. There, on the screen again, was that same ball from before, but the bean was just a hair bigger than it was four weeks ago.

"There they are," She says with a small laugh. Zoro's hand squeezed yours as he stared at the giant monitor in front of you. "They look healthy as far as I can see, but let's hear a heartbeat, shall we?" She clicks a button on her device and immediately the room fills with that loud noise that resembled a washing machine in your mind.

"Loud and stable!" Dr. Kureha shouts when the machine turns off the sound. Zoro covered his mouth, still not looking away from the black-and-white setup. "Are we still in shock, Dad?" Her words snap Zoro's attention to her and he clears his throat.

"Y-yeah, a bit," He admits weakly. "I guess I'm just still getting used to it and seeing it is... Crazy." His eye falls on you and you smile, giving his hand a light squeeze. He slowly turns his attention back to the monitor.

"So, are we hoping for a girl or a boy?" Kureha questions. You shrug slightly.

"I would like a girl, but a boy is fine, too."

"A girl," Zoro answers without hesitation. "I would really like to have a girl. Boys are fine, but... I need a girl." You furrowed your brow, confused by what brought it on him to need a girl.

"Well, you can find out in about ten to twelve weeks if you'd like to schedule a gender reveal, but your next ultrasound is going to be at eighteen weeks, so six weeks from now. Alright?" You nod and wipe the gel off your stomach as she prints photos from the ultrasound for you to take home. As you schedule your next appointment and sit in the car again, you look at Zoro with a raised brow.

"So?" You ask, earning a hum. "You need a girl?"

"Oh," He mutters. "Yeah, I need a girl as a kind of... Memorial thing."

"A family member?" You can see his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. Immediately you knew the subject was much more touchy than you thought. "If you don't want to-"

"Her name was Kuina," He cuts off. "She died when we were kids. She's a big reason why I'm into Kendo and swords, other than my family."

"Was that the friend you told Chopper and me about after my dad passed?"

"Yeah..." He trailed and you cleared your throat within the heavy silence that followed him.

"Ah," You whisper. "I'm sorry I asked."

"It's fine." He reaches over from the wheel with his right hand and holds yours gently. "I told you to always ask when something is-" A loud horn cuts him off and a gasp is all that can escape your throat before a heavy impact to the front of your vehicle sends you flying into the airbag that gets launched from above the glove compartment and the sides of the door. Your ears are ringing and your head is pounding, but you can't feel anything else. You couldn't open your eyes, only pain coated you. You began gasping for air and all you could do was sit there, trying your hardest to breathe. What just happened? You could hear voices, but none of them were clear to you. Someone was shouting your name, but that's the only word you could make out. Finally, your obsidian-stained eyelids slowly let you lift them to see the airbag still flush against your face.