In Dreams
Chapter 4
The Nami of that morning was drastically different than the one Zoro had left the night before.
And Zoro couldn’t explain it away. If anything, he thought she would be gloating in the humiliation she had caused him last night. Instead, she looked pale, much like she hadn’t slept. He passed the young woman painting in the court yard on his way to fencing practice. He was angry with her still, but when he saw her canvas blank, her eyes downcast, and her brush frozen in one place, he was concerned. She was a nuisance, a woman, and what was worse, extremely intelligent. She could outwit him in everyway, and that grinded on him. But he cared for her. She was close to him, and he didn’t want to see her unhappy.
It wasn’t entirely appropriate to strike up such a personal conversation as to what might be bothering her around the other women, with him in his fencing gear no less, in the middle of the court yard, but he hated propriety and manners anyway. He walked up behind her and eased the paintbrush out of her hand.
“Z-Zoro!” She started. The young red head quickly turned her surprised gaze from Zoro to the canvas. “You surprised me! What are you doing? You don’t intend to paint for me, do you?” She sounded normal, her voice echoing a playful tease, but everything about her body language indicated that she was strained.
Zoro was a swordsman. He could see these things.
He spoke quietly, glaring slightly at the other woman who had stopped to pay attention to their encounter. They quickly chatted with their neighbors and looked busy. “If this is about last night, I’m not angry. I suppose I was insensitive-“
“This isn’t about dinner. Please, go to your practice. I wouldn’t want to be around to hear DuPont’s diatribe when he finds you’ll be late.” Her voice was abnormally high. She looked up at him and smiled.
“I am going to a picnic this afternoon, myself and Robin. We’d be delighted if you would accompany us.” At this she looked at him pointedly. Zoro understood. He returned her paintbrush to her.
“You know, I don’t know much about art but…” He looked to the statue of the naked man and woman embracing that was to be Nami’s subject, as indicated by what the other women were painting. “Don’t you think that painting a statue is redundant? Its someone else’s art and you’re just… doing it over again in a different venue. I can’t imagine that strikes much passion in you.”
Nami sighed and smiled. “Not all of us are brilliant masters of our craft, Zoro. I love painting, but recently I have not had inspiration for an original work. Does that mean I should not paint at all?”
Zoro looked at her. “I think you should paint what makes you feel.” He began to head towards the fencing room across the patio. “You should try, my lady.”
Sanji had always considered himself lucky in his accommodations. His room had a window with a balcony that overlooked the courtyard. If he were king, he would still want his room. Though he had never been inside the King and Queen’s chamber, he was sure there wasn’t any way they had a view as beautiful as his. At least three times a week, in the morning, the more artistic women of the court, and a few of the men once in a great while, would come out to paint in the courtyard. Sometimes they would all pick the same topic. Other times, they would paint each other, or scenery. Sometimes they would have statues brought in from other parts of the palace, like today, and paint them.
Nami was an extremely talented artist, in his opinion. The way her hands moved so gracefully with the brush across the canvas. It was like with every stroke, she took apart of herself, and placed it on the canvas. Every work was a reflection of her beauty.
This was also the only time he could gaze openly at her, without Robin’s presence. This was the one time she left Nami to her own devices.
Today, Sanji thought, was probably the last day he would indulge in this particular practice. He would watch her paint until they wrapped up, and rush down to meet her, pretending as though he hadn’t just watched her paint, and request to see her work. He would then praise her for it, kiss her hand, and offer to escort her to some place or another. Robin would usually swoop down at this time, and carry Mademoiselle Nami off to some activity or another.
And Sanji would merely count the minutes or sometimes hours until he got the chance to see her again. It was a routine for him. It was comforting and solid. He knew he could count on it everyday. Her beauty. Her voice. Her kindness.
Now, the veil was drawn. Her beauty, voice, and kindness were all the same, if not more radiant. Only now, he knew that any false hope he had given himself was in vain.
She would never be his.
Not the way he wanted her to be.
And she had been honest. Brutally so. And for this he admired her even more. She was such a creature that she would not rob Sanji of a marriage full of love and honesty. She would not let him live a lie. She was true to herself in that respect as well.
And he would return the favor.
He would let her go.
Last night he realized for the first time the extent of damage he had done his true love by clinging so desperately and so tightly. Sanji swore he would never see tears on that face again. She would smile. He would give her a world and a situation that would make her glow.
Even if he wasn’t apart of it.
Even if he had to do the impossible.
Even if he had to make the one man he hated most fall in love with the woman he loved the most. Even if said man preferred… well, men.
For Nami, he could do the impossible.
The retired chef had not slept much the night before. Thinking her words over in his head, realizing what he now knew, and knowing what he must do, had taken up the silent, cold hours of the night.
But he was determined.
“How the hell am I supposed to make a gay man fall in love with the world’s most beautiful woman?” He muttered to himself, his jaw suddenly tightening as he saw the devil himself walk out onto the patio and approach Nami. He watched the swordsman flirt shamelessly with her, toying with the paintbrush and talking down to her.
“What does she see in him anyway…” He thought bitterly.
/So he can fence. He’s obviously not of noble birth.
Well… neither was I. He probably had to earn his nobility, like me.
So what? The culinary arts are a more refined and dignified skill than swinging an oversized knife around to try and kill your opponent. Anyone can do that.
He looks like a baboon. His big, hulking arms, his muscle head, that green hair, my god! Green hair!
It looks soft.
The man probably doesn’t even bathe regularly.
That earring.
Che. He wears an earring for god’s sake.
I suppose his appearance is… striking. People notice when he walks in a room. Nami always notices when he walks in a room.
He’s ill refined, has no manners. He has a cocky, self assured grin and a loud mouth.
But I suppose athletically, he’s desirable for a woman.
I’m sure he’s just overcompensating./
Sanji decided to leave that particular brainstorm alone for the morning. Since his day wasn’t scheduled around Nami, he needed to find something to do. Perhaps he should try and talk to Zoro. But he had no idea where to begin.
He looked in the mirror and summoned his brightest, fakest smile. “Oh, and Zoro, by the way, be a chap and fall in love with Nami? It’d be smashing fun! That would work brilliantly.”
He gave himself the once over in the mirror and then left just in time for the maids to walk in. He smiled courteously at them, thanking them graciously, and left. He found himself making his way towards the fencing room. He passed Nami on the way out, giving her and Robin a nod of his head and a cordial “Good morning, Mademoiselle Diamant, Mademoiselle Nicol…” and kept going. The urge to speak to Nami further was overwhelming, but her words from last night echoed in his head, and gave him strength to keep going.
DuPont wasn’t much of a challenge these days, but he was good training for Zoro. In order to prolong the match, he had to hold his aggression at one level, putting a psychological strain chain on the raging violence that sometimes stormed inside him. He got plenty of physical exercise on a daily basis, but the psychology of fencing was as important, if not more so, than the physical aspects. He knew there would be an immense psychological war with Javiere Mihawk. He had to be ready.
In truth, a good swordfight will not last more than three minutes. It isn’t physically possible for it to last much longer than that anyway. The extreme physical stress it puts on the body, in a real duel setting, is tremendous. But as this was a fencing room, and both Dupont and Zoro were dressed to the toe in fencing gear, and there was a referee standing on the sidelines, a competition like this could go on for a good twenty minutes before DuPont collapsed. Zoro could go much longer. But some said Zoro wasn’t entirely human, either.
There was an acute difference between a real duel and what Zoro had become accustomed to. Living outside the palace, a duel meant life or death. A duel was quick, and always fatal. Inside the palace walls, a duel simply meant practice, a way to let off steam. If Zoro were allowed to kill his opponents, half the palace would have been dead already. Including the King.
Usopp and Luffy were watching from the sidelines, looking decidedly bored. They had watched Zoro fence a hundred times since he came to the castle. The man just didn’t lose. Some days he would make it more entertaining than others, but other days you knew when there was something on his mind. He would focus on training. And watching Roronoa Zoro train wasn’t any fun.
Luffy spotted Sanji as soon as he walked in. “Sanji! Come over here!” He waved the man over. Sanji grimaced, hoping to have slipped in unnoticed or watched from the doorway, hidden by the crowd of other men, women, and fencers who were watching Zoro’s current bout.
If the swordsman had heard Luffy, he didn’t show any outward sign of it. So Sanji sidled through the crowd and stood next to Usopp and the Ace’s younger brother.
“Sanji, you never come to Zoro’s matches. Eh? Where’s Nami?” The boy said, looking around.
“She’s not here. I’m sure she’s with Robin somewhere. And I wouldn’t normally be here, but I happened to be passing by….” Sanji finished, sounding haughty and bored.
“Ah.” Usopp said. “To bad you did not come on a more exciting day. It’s just DuPont this time, so it won’t be very interesting.”
Sanji “hmmed” and glanced in the direction of the match, a direction his gaze had been avoiding. But when he caught site of the two men moving, he became transfixed by what he saw.
It was like liquid. He knew immediately which body had to be Zoro’s, because it moved like liquid. No… it was more like, if fire was a liquid, Roronoa Zoro was it.
DuPont was jerky. One step, two steps, stop. Lunge.
But Zoro… there were no steps. It was all flow. One dance. He didn’t stop. He paused and then continued. The helmets and masks may have covered his face, but Sanji knew. Not to mention the differences between their bodies. Zoro was taller, thinner, but more solid. DuPont was shorter, and little hulkier, with shorter arms. He didn’t even look like he was built for fencing. But Zoro was. His long arms reached splendidly, he was light on his feet, and he long legs allowed for longer strides. The fencing gear left little to the imagination in terms of his muscular back and torso. He was a God-
And Sanji stopped thinking right there. He caught himself in awe. He realized his eyes had widened, his jaw had dropped, and he had been breathing with catchy breath.
And what was worse, he was blushing. Was he really that impressed? This was quite alarming. He composed himself and gave a mental shake.
/Maybe this is why she…/
Zoro knew he had been standing there before Luffy had hollered the other man’s name. His performance had stiffened, his mind distracted by the added factor in this battle.
/He’s watching me…
Why on earth is he here? Right now he’s usually with Nami after she’s finished with painting…
And why was she upset, if it wasn’t about dinner?
Why is he here/
Zoro was driven from his distracting thoughts by Usopp’s voice.
“Ah. To bad you did not come on a more exciting day. It’s just DuPont this time, so it won’t be very interesting.”
Zoro’s stomach jolted, did a flip flop, the turned itself inside out. Suddenly Zoro was… actually, Zoro didn’t know what this feeling was.
/Is this… is this what it’s like to be nervous?
I cannot let him see me like this. I have to show him what I am capable of. I have to show him my best.
I cannot lose.
I have to make him see me./
A beast suddenly awoke within the swordsman, and poor DuPont had no idea what hit him. Zoro finished the job quickly. He pulled out some of his best footwork, reserved for people much better than DuPont, but somehow it didn’t seem good enough for Sanji. He wanted to throw off his helmet, rip off his shirt, and show the stupid love cook all of his grace and power. He settled instead for flattening his opponent, and gaining a few “oohs” and “aahs” from the audience. The referee called the match, and the crowd clapped, a little more enthusiastically than normally they would have. He bowed to DuPont and then took off his helmet a little too eagerly than he would have liked. He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face when he looked over to Sanji, but what he saw did wipe the grin away. Sanji was gone. He looked at Usopp, and Usopp shook his head and motioned to the door.
Zoro’s made his way hastily out of the room, not bothering with his disheveled and sweaty state or with the people in his way. He made it out just in time to see the cook turn the corner. He jogged after him to catch up.
“Oi!”
/Oh very nice. Very refined, Zoro. You’re a regular gentleman. Why don’t slap his ass while you’re at it/
The cook whirled around, his face full of color, his expression angry. “What?”
Zoro stopped, a little taken aback. He hadn’t done anything to piss the other man off yet. It wasn’t fair just to start off that way, without giving Zoro a chance.
“What brings you- what are you doing here?” He managed to say smoothly enough, still trying to catch his breath from the extra exertion of his match.
Sanji looked away. “I was just passing by, and Luffy called me in.”
Zoro was confused. “No, you had been standing at the door for a minute or so before-…” He stopped.
/Brilliant. Now he knows how much I was paying him attention./
“And? I have never seen you fence before. You do not seem like you are awful at it. It caught my attention. That is all. I was surprised to see you had talent at all.” The blonde man snapped.
Zoro wanted to beam, but was under full control of his facilities. He settled for a cocky grin instead.
Sanji looked at him strangely. He was about to say something when Zoro cut him off.
“Ah… I better go get changed.” The swordsman said, a little too stiffly, and turned to go.
“Tonight.”
Zoro looked at the chef. “Tonight?” He repeated.
“I need to speak with you. Privately.” Sanji said confidently. Zoro eyed the other man.
“To me? Alone?”
Alarms went off in Sanji’s head, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. He felt a little unbalanced, but he needed to speak to the man about Nami. If he couldn’t, then he would never be able to make her happy...
“Yes. After dinner then. Er… perhaps, off palace grounds? You seem to know the town well, any place that you know of that’s… discreet should do. I’ll meet you in the stables. It would be preferable if no one knew about this.” This was all said in a rush. Sanji was looking around, making sure no one had overheard them.
Alarms went off in Zoro’s head as well, and he was entirely too sure that he did know why, but was the chef couldn’t have meant what Zoro thought he did. It must be something else. This was the love cook, after all.
“What is this about?” Zoro said, trying to keep the obvious suspicion out of his voice. The man he loved and lusted after was telling him to meet him alone in a discreet place. No god in the universe loved him this much. There must be a catch.
“It’s about Mademoiselle Nami.”
Zoro’s good mood disappeared as quickly as it had come. He knew it. It couldn’t have been anything other than that woman. Zoro hadn’t once felt jealousy towards Nami in the past, mainly because he hoped Sanji would never behave around Zoro the way he did Nami, but now he felt it. Felt all that jealousy he should have felt before, but was just now catching up to him.
“If you intend to challenge me over her…” Zoro’s voice was low, serious, and angry.
Sanji looked alarmed. “Are you mad? I would have to be insane to-… oh nevermind! Just meet me after dinner.” Sanji turned and stalked off before another word could be said.
That was a small blessing. However, the green haired man was left feeling exhausted. Curiosity, frustration, excitement, confusion, jealousy. A master swordsman didn’t allow himself to succumb to these emotions, and certainly not in such a short amount of time for a reason such as this.
He needed a bath.
Nami felt entirely too guilty when Sanji brushed past her and Robin after her painting session. She could see the hurt and embarrassment written all over his face. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him. Last night had gotten out of hand, and she thought perhaps she could have relayed those same feelings in a more delicate and appropriate manner to Sanji, saving him this awkward sadness.
“Monsieur Sanji…” Robin began, as she ran a comb through Nami’s undone hair, “is the type of man who must be educated brutally for him to learn. Subtlety is not a good tactic to use, my lady. So I think, perhaps, last night was the best thing that could have happened to him, for both of your sakes.”
Nami wrung her hands, as she was oft to do when she was in emotional turmoil. It was an un-lady like habit, and she didn’t do it in public.
“He’s not unkind, Robin. He’s a good man, I know it. I’m a fool, you know. I’m sure I could have been happy-“
“Do you love him?” Robin said, gently.
“No.”
“…”
“I know, Robin! I know! I just… Why can’t Zoro feel the way he does?” She said, turning to look at her companion.
Robin smiled down on her. “You know, it isn’t because the moon hates the sun that they don’t shine together.”
Nami sighed. “Am I not enough?”
Robin laughed. “Nami, I simply don’t understand why you but berate yourself over not winning Monsieur Zoro’s affections. It is much like saying you are disappointed with yourself for not being able to… turn an apple into an orange! It simply is not possible, my lady. No matter how beautiful you are. But do you begrudge that same apple for being an apple, instead of an orange?”
“Apples, oranges, suns or moons, Robin. It does not change how I feel.” The dark haired woman sighed. She had been avoiding this particular turn in conversation, but she felt perhaps that her mistress needed to hear it.
“Perhaps it is not my place to say so; I am only a companion, after all…”
Nami faced her friend again, and clasped her hand. “You are not only my companion, Robin. You are my most trusted friend. You are like a sister to me! I need your wisdom. Please, tell me what is on your mind…”
The older woman’s brow creased. “It is a selfish love.”
Nami flinched and pulled her hand away. “How… how can you say that? I would do anything for him! I would give him the world if I could-“
Robin’s frown grew deeper. “You would give him all but his own happiness, my lady.” She knelt down, her dress billowing around her, delicate hands on the arms of the chair, and firmly looked into Nami’s eyes. “As long as you had what you wanted, you assume that it is all that he would want. If you truly loved him, you would want for nothing but his happiness. You know he cannot be happy with you. It is a fact, Nami. He cannot, does not, will not ever, love you. And if you cannot let him go, you will never have a chance to be happy yourself.”
Robin watched as the young girl she had helped to raise lowered her head in sadness. She watched as those delicate tears fell down her cheeks. She was not much older than Nami, and they had been raised mostly as sisters. Robin had been trained to look after her mistress, attend to her needs, and make sure she was watched over until she had found a suitable husband. When that day would come, she too would be allowed to marry, if she so chose, and would be given a home, and a title, if she did not take up the title that whatever man she chose to marry might have. Robin loved Nami very much. She had nursed her tears away countless times. Scraped knees, an overly rough playmate, her father’s death, her mother’s sickness. But this new ailment, this love her friend had discovered, had caused more tears than Robin cared to recollect. And then Sanji had come along, and there were more angry nights of Nami’s ranting and complaining of the man’s endless affections. It had been a particularly intense three years since Zoro had come to the palace. In this last year alone, Nami had come close enough to Zoro in friendship that the man had confided in her his deepest secret, and his feelings for Sanji. That had been a horrible night.
Robin was simply at a loss of what to do anymore. If Nami could not accept how things were, and how they were inevitably to be, she would not be able to move on.
And then Robin would never be able to get married.
Zoro had taken some time to scarf down some bread, cheese, and meat after his bath. He knew whatever meal Nami and Robin had brought along with them on the picnic was probably delicate, and certainly not able to satisfy the hunger of a swordsman who had already exerted plenty of energy that morning. Guzzling down a bit of wine, he set the tray by his door so the maid, Marie, would pick it up while he was out. It was a good thing Marie usually anticipated his hunger after training. It was also a good thing he wasn’t forced to eat in front of other people at every meal. He would have gone insane by now. Six pieces of silverware, having to dip your fingers in a water bowl between each course. The process of eating was more intricate than fencing, he was sure.
The ladies had gone ahead, so he went down to the stables and told Henry, the teenage stable boy, to ready his horse. The boy grinned in recognition, and gave Zoro a “Yes sir!” and was off. He could have done it himself, would have done it himself, if he didn’t already know that the servants talked. That talk got around to the other courtiers. And if Zoro was said to have been doing “peasant work”, he would never hear the end of it.
The boy returned swiftly, just as eager as when he left.
He smiled, ruffled the boy’s hair, and threw him a couple coins. “Marie might have mentioned something about blue being her favorite color, and a particular piece of jewelry for sale at Madame Cecile’s shop in the shape of a heart… You know women. They talk too loud and too much.” Zoro mounted his horse and gave it a jolt to the gut, and was off. He vaguely heard Henry give a whoop of happiness, but was sure it was just his imagination.
The ride through the countryside was long enough, and gave the swordsman time to think for once. It was a brilliant day out. Five years ago, on a day like this, Zoro could be found taking a swim, sleeping under a tree, or searching for a good fight. If he had it his way, it would still be the same. But a lot had changed.
/Maybe it wouldn’t be the same though. Maybe he’d be with me, if I had it my way. Maybe it would be him that I am going to meet right now. Lunch under the sun. Making love in the middle of a field, drinking the wine of his body…
Hm, perhaps it’s not a good idea to think about that right now.
Zoro shook his head, hoping to clear his mind of those particularly distracting thoughts. But those types of distracting thoughts were replaced by equally, though chaste, distracting ones.
He was to meet him tonight. He could trust Francois to let him have a room in the back, if the damn cook needed that much privacy. It would give him a chance for Francois to get a good look at his object of affection.
But what could the man possibly want now? Perhaps it was in Zoro’s best interest to just get it out. Tell the other man that he preferred men to women, and that he could never love Nami. Zoro didn’t like the idea. The only attention he got from Sanji was because Sanji saw him in contest for Nami’s hand. The idea of befriending the chef seemed too troublesome. The closer he got to him, the harder it would be to reconcile with his own feelings for the man. He couldn’t trust himself not to get the chef drunk and have his dirty way with him. Once again, Zoro’s mind began to elaborate on that thought, but he was saved by the sight of Nami and Robin’s carriage just a few yards up the road. He looked to his right and saw them waving him over to their picnic grounds.
It seemed they had done lunch without him. He’d have to complain about that.
“I may not be of noble birth, but wouldn’t you say it’s a bit rude to start lunch without everyone present?” He said in the haughtiest voice he could muster, dismounting from his horse and tying the reigns to a branch from a nearby tree.
Robin smiled. “Are you saying you did not sneak a pre-lunch lunch up to your room before coming?”
Zoro laughed and sat down on the blanket they had lain out. “You know me just about as well as I do, Mademoiselle.” He saw Robin eyeing his horse.
“I have the feeling that I am about to experience temporary amnesia. I am sure Jacques, your most loyal coachman, will not have much to say on the matter either.” Zoro said, looking at Nami and then pouring himself a glass of wine. Nami nodded to Robin.
“Well then, I think I shall disappear for a while. Enjoy your after lunch-lunch, monsieur.” Robin gracefully excused herself. Zoro could wasn’t sure how Robin ever managed to mount his horse and successfully ride side saddle in the dress she was wearing. He was also sure he didn’t want to.
There was silence where Zoro simply laid back, content in his company and his surroundings. But he knew Nami had asked him here for a reason, and she seemed reluctant to initiate the conversation.
“You were not yourself this morning, my lady. The only cause I can think of was dinner last night-“
“It was, and it was not, Zoro. I feel I owe you an explanation of what happened after you left.” Nami wouldn’t meet his eye. Zoro took this moment to admire her. She was beautiful. She was what every man at court wanted, with the exception of him and Monsieur Luffy. They were both anomalies in that Luffy only wanted meat and adventure, and Zoro… well Zoro was only sure that he wanted two things, and neither of them was a wife.
“What do you mean? Something happened after I left?”
“A lot of things.”
She was hesitating. She was nervous. Apparently whatever she might have to say was something she thought Zoro didn’t want to hear.
“Nami… I do not think there is much in the way of what you do that could end our friendship, or my affection for you. Short of marrying Sanji.”
She laughed, relieved somewhat. She nodded her head and took a deep breath. “I was leaving the commons with Robin after dinner, having spoken extensively with Monsieur Usopp over our… performance at dinner, when Monsieur Sanji came to me. He asked to speak with me privately-“
“Privately? Robin-“
“Was there.” She was silent for a moment before beginning again. “He gave me an ultimatum. He told me that he knew you could never love me, and told me that he could make me happy, if I would just let him try.”
She stopped, and looked at the swordsman, wary. Zoro didn’t know what she was so anxious about. There was nothing new about that statement.
“And?”
Nami looked confused. “Zoro, he said that he knew you could never love me.”
The swordsman felt his blood rush to his feet. The motion made him slightly ill.
“Why… did he say that he knew I could never love you?” Zoro already knew, and the hurricane of thoughts and emotions was building.
“I did not tell him, Zoro. I know I went too far at dinner, but I did not tell him. I would never. I admit, I was wrong, and I am sorry. I did not mean for him to figure it out…”
Zoro rolled over with a “wumf”, his head buried in the blanket.
/He knows./
“Zoro, I am sorry. Please, this has all been so hard…” Nami’s voice broke. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry in front of him. But it was becoming more and more difficult with every word she spoke.
Zoro remembered what Francois had told him the night before, about Nami’s feelings. He pushed himself off the ground, a little numb, but none worse for the wear. He sat directly across from Nami, and took her hand with his. It was small, pale, and delicate. He looked at her face and saw those tears building.
He took a deep breath, about to engage in a speech that he knew he didn’t want to give, didn’t feel it should be necessary, but sometimes women were irrational, and needed the unnecessary. He organized his thoughts. He didn’t like speaking as much as he knew he was about to.
“Nami… you are my dear friend. I have Usopp, and Luffy, and Ace, when he was here. I even have a good confidante in a bar keep in town.” He grinned, thinking briefly of his good friend. “But none of them have I felt this way for. You… I want your happiness, Nami. I want to know that you will be loved, and taken care of, and happy. Someday, I want to see your children. I want to know that you will do all the things you want to do. I want you to fall in love with someone who will not be able to survive without you. I trust you the most. You are smart, and a damn nuisance-…” And at this Nami let out a sound between a sob and a laugh, “… but from the beginning, I knew that I could be myself around you. I did not have to be someone I was not. If ever I wanted a wife, it would have been you, Nami. There have been times where I wanted to just give in. Marry you so you could be happy. But it would have been a lie, Nami. You deserve better than that.” He moved his hand to her face, his calloused thumb wiping away her tears. She closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. The swordsman let out a sigh of relief.
“Zoro I… I am so sorry. I have been…” She took his larger hand in her two smaller ones. “Selfish. I have not been any better than the way Sanji is towards me, and I apologize. I want you to be happy. This situation is so impossible! I just want… to be loved.”
Zoro frowned, and took Nami’s delicate chin in his hand. “It sounds trite, but you are. I love you. Robin loves you, and so does that idiot. You will find true love Nami. Looking like you do, being the way you are, I cannot imagine that it will be very hard.” He grinned and Nami laughed, finding her kerchief and wiping her eyes.
Zoro felt better, that being said. What a day. He wondered how much more emotional turmoil he would have to endure before the day was done.
“Nami... You did not tell him how I feel, did you?” Halfway afraid the answer might be yes.
Nami’s eyes widened. “No! Of course not!”
Zoro frowned. “He came to my match this morning. After it was through, he told me that he wanted to meet me tonight. At the time, I assumed that he wanted to challenge me over you, but he told me otherwise.”
Nami tilted her head. “Did he say why?”
“Just that it was something to do with you…” It reminded Zoro of the jealousy he had felt earlier. He was ashamed, knowing that he had been the cause of Nami’s earlier tears. Nami was right. The situation was impossible. And infuriating.
“I think… I think I made him understand last night, Zoro. Today he did not speak to me, other than to greet me in the hallway. I think he understands that I do not love him.”
Zoro threw himself back down on the blanket. “What does the infuriating bastard want then?”
