The Swordsman and the Blacksmith (Roronoa Zoro x Reader)

Chapter 5: The Knife

The gentle caress of the sea breeze tousled your hair as you savored the rich aroma of your morning coffee. You'd woken up unusually early today, the prospect of getting your hands on steel again, to start creating, firing your spirit. Something had shifted in you after that argument, you felt free. No one had admonished either of you for the outburst, laughing and teasing you about it instead. It felt as though they were happy you'd finally let go of your reservations and let your true self peek through. You leaned on the railing of the quarter deck as you observed the activity below you.

Your eyes couldn't help but follow the shirtless swordsman as he practiced his forms. You may hate the man, but you could see why Sandai Kitetsu had chosen him. It pissed you off to admit it, but you were sure he also had every right to Wado Ichimonji and Shusui. There was a rugged elegance to his movements, raw power that demanded attention. The fluidity and control of his haki coursing through the blades was incredible. You were more than certain he was deadly in a fight.

"Hey! Asshole! Show me your swords." You called out to him.

He glanced up at you, a scowl forming on his features at the interruption. "No," he shouted back.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned further against the railing, your irritation mounting. "Aw, come on. Don't be such a fucking prick about it." You retorted, your words laced with frustration.

The swordsman's only response was his middle finger before he turned back to the movement he was trying to master.

You scoffed. Didn't matter, you'd decided today was going to be a good day. You pushed yourself away from the railing, heading towards your forge with a spring in your step. The fires had to be hot enough now to get started. You hummed to yourself, smile bright on your face.

The heat of the forge enveloped you like a warm embrace as you stepped into the small workshop aboard the Thousand Sunny. Beads of sweat formed on your brow, a testament to the intense heat radiating from the roaring flames. With a determined expression, you approached your sturdy workbench, where a stack of raw steel awaited your skilled hands.

Your eyes wandered across the multitude of options presented before you. They stopped on a smaller slab, it seemed to call to you. Taking a deep breath, you picked it up. The familiar coolness of the metal felt nice in your palm.

"What will you be?" You asked the bar, eyeing it gently.

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight in your grasp, finding its core, its essence. You turned it a few times in your hands, feeling for its quirks, its personality. You smiled as a picture formed in your mind.

"A knife, huh?" you said to the steel. "You want to be useful, don't you?" You could honor that. "Don't worry, I'll find you a most passionate owner," you told it, Sanji passing your mind.

You examined the steel more thoroughly. It was mild steel, its low-carbon content would make it perfect for the outer shell of a kitchen knife. You'd still have to reinforce it with a high carbon core to ensure durability over the years. Good. It wouldn't be too hard, the perfect project to test this new forge.

You donned on your leather apron and gloves, taking a long linen cloth to cover your hair so it didn't burn at the contact of the imminent sparks that would scatter in the workshop. The steps were now clear in your mind, you wasted no time in getting started, eager to craft a blade worthy of the chef's culinary skills.

With a steady hand and focused mind, you retrieved a length of high-carbon steel, feeling its weight and potential beneath your fingertips. You immersed it into the searing heat of the fire, precision and purpose in your quick movements. The rhythmic cadence of the flames cast a familiar warm hue on your face as you impatiently waited for the steel to turn from a dull gray to a glowing fiery orange.