The Swordsman and the Blacksmith (Roronoa Zoro x Reader)

Chapter 12: Shiawase

Roronoa Zoro was struggling. He hated to admit it, but he was coming to his wit's end on how to handle the sword the witch had presented to him. He'd been at it for almost three days now, and there had been no progress. The damn thing was as stubborn and temperamental as the one who forged it.

He paced back and forth on the sun-drenched deck of the ship, slowly circling the sheathed Shiawase as he pondered how to approach it next. His mind was a battleground of contemplation, frustration, and a tinge of admiration for the weapon's defiance. With a frustrated sigh, he picked up the blade, fingers wrapping around the handle in a now familiar battle of wills.

He unsheathed it, the scabbard sliding smoothly against the blade. The steel gleamed under the harsh sunlight, its surface adorned with an intricate Damascus pattern that danced in hues of amethyst and obsidian. Despite his vexation, he couldn't help but admire the blade's craftmanship, the perfect balance as he twirled it, the deadly sharpness of its edge.

And then it started again. The push and pull the blade demanded of his haki. A dizzying rhythm that left him breathless and sweat drenched. He groaned as he extended his haki towards the blade, trying to overwhelm the sword's will with his own determination. His brow furrowed as the blade suddenly pulled at his haki, devouring it insatiably. He tried to pull back, beads of sweat travelling down across the muscles of his bare back, the scorching sun drying them out almost instantly.

His hand twitched.

The blade dropped.

An annoyed 'fuck' passed his lips.

-----

A sly smile played on your lips as you observed Zoro's fruitless attempts to subdue the rebellious Shiawase. It was a spectacle of futility, a dance of frustration that seemed to distance him further from mastering the obstinate blade. Each move was a misstep, a testament to the intricate challenge that lay before him, and you found a unmistakable enjoyment in witnessing his struggles.

While a part of you yearned to approach him, to reveal the secrets of the blade with effortless finesse, another part reveled in the idea of prolonging his torment. The allure of letting him grapple with the realization of his own limitations appealed to you far more than you liked to admit.

Leaning casually against the ship's railing, you crossed your arms, the glint in your eyes betraying your amusement. The unfolding drama below held your attention like a captivating performance, a blend of determination and stubbornness that both entertained and intrigued.

As the scorching sun reflected brightly off the blade, highlighting Zoro's increasing frustration, you couldn't resist a playful taunt. "Need some help, swordsman?" you called out with a teasing tone. "I can show you how it's done if you beg."

His response was a nonchalant flip of the finger, a gesture that spoke volumes, even without a direct glance in your direction. You laughed in the face of his irritation.

Nami strolled over, her eyes flickering between you and the swordsman with an arched eyebrow. "Not in your forge?" She inquired. "I thought you were itching to get back to work."

Your gaze flickered to her momentarily before going back to the entertaining display before you. "I am" you admitted. "It's just too hot. I'll have a stroke if I light those fires."

A noncommittal sound passed her lips in acknowledgement as she leaned against the railing with you. "Looks like Zoro's having a rough time" she remarked, glancing down.

You nodded, a smirk playing on your lips. "He's going at it all wrong. Shiawase's not a sword you can overpower. You have to play along with it, entertain its demands, let it gauge your intentions before you can take control." You explained. "He's trying to brute force his way in."