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Death comes for Zoro with a smile on Death’s face, a laugh gracing Death’s lips.
Zoro curses himself as he squints against the figure standing in the hazy sunlight. After I was so close to fulfilling my promise.
“Are you Roronoa Zoro, the swordsman?” Death asks. Zoro wonders what would happen if he lied. Would Death leave him be? What would that make him? Certainly not alive.
Zoro answers honestly. He is not one for cheating Death. “He is me.”
Death laughs again. “Hey, join my crew.”
Zoro ponders this. Death’s crew? It’s an interesting prospect. And if it could give him a chance to still be the greatest swordsman-
“Bring me my swords. Then I’ll consider.”
There’s no point in a life after death if he can’t be a swordsman.
—
The ensuing events are a whirlwind that has Zoro struggling to keep up. Some of it he swears he has to have hallucinated, but it all ended with his swords back in his hands and his hands back out of ropes, so he isn’t inclined to stress the details.
He sits at the table in the bar and watches Death scarf down bowl after bowl of food. Is this some kind of metaphor? Death consumes all, maybe? Zoro isn’t quite sure yet how this whole “being dead” thing works, especially because very little seems to have changed from when he was alive. He can feel the sun on his neck, the ground under his feet, the hot food on his tongue- what’s the big deal with being dead, anyways, if this is all he gets from it?
“Do you have a name?” He asks Death, more out of reflex than anything else. Death is Death, after all.
“Of course I have a name. Why wouldn’t I have a name?” Death responds, managing to eat through two more bowls in the span of those sentences.
“I, uh, dunno. I just thought, being Death and all…”
“Dead people still got names.”
“Yeah, but, Death itself…”
“What are you talking about? I’m not ‘Death itself.’”
“You’re not?” Zoro asks.
“No, I’m not. Did you really think I was?”
Zoro drums his fingers on the table. “Uh… who are you, then? Why did you show up?”
“I’m Monkey D. Luffy,” he says. “Koby said you were a great swordsman, and my crew needs a swordsman. That’s why.”
Oh right, Koby. The little pink haired kid. Zoro casts him a glance- he’s mostly been ignoring the guy. He hadn’t really thought of how he would be related to Death.
“So you’re… what, just some guy?” Zoro asks.
“I told you, I’m Monkey D. Luffy! I’m gonna be King of the Pirates!” the boy scowls. “And I’m your captain.”
“Bull shit you’re my captain!” Zoro says.
“You said you would join if I got those swords for you!” Luffy cries.
“I said I would consider. And I was considering joining Death’s crew, not… yours.”
“I’m still dead,” Luffy says, “Is that enough?”
Zoro sputters. “I can tell you’re not dead. I’m not stupid.”
Luffy shakes his head quickly. “No, I am dead. I came back to life because of my Devil Fruit.”
Zoro’s eyebrows raise. “Seriously? A fruit like that exists?”
Luffy hums his affirmation. “And I ate it, yeah. So, are you getting on my ship or what? You promised.”
“I didn’t promise anything,” Zoro scoffs, annoyed.
He gets on the ship (if it can even be called that) with Luffy anyway, somehow.
—
The cold, salty seawater cuts like blades across his face as Sanji dives under. He hadn’t planned on that- this loud, strange kid seemed capable enough, and Sanji wasn’t going to risk himself playing the hero (for a guy, at least). But when the kid had hit the water, there had been no struggle as he sank- and then Zeff had thrown out that the kid couldn’t swim because of his fruit. Idiot old man! Mention that sooner!
He can make out the wavering shape of the boy underwater, his limbs woven through a forgotten fishing net. He kicks himself closer, grabbing onto the net and swinging around to start pulling it away. He casts a glance towards the boy’s head, just to gauge his condition, and jolts at the wide open eyes staring back at him.
Is he not really a Devil Fruit user? He’s not moving at all, but he seems fully conscious and aware, not at all like someone with a constricted air flow struggling to remain conscious.
He is limp and pliant in Sanji’s arms, but those eyes remain locked on to Sanji’s face, wide and more nervous than he expected the boisterous boy could be. It makes him want to shiver. Sanji wonders what it feels like, to be awake under the water like this, but unable to move yourself. It’s a thought that unsettles him deeply. Whatever fruit this boy has, Sanji doesn’t think he’d ever want to be the one to have it.
Finding out that Luffy is dead, has been dead all this time, is for Sanji both horrifying and a strange relief. He understands, now, that Luffy has no need to breathe. That he could stay under the water indefinitely, in theory. Conscious. He’s still rendered powerless by the water, but drowning is not an issue. Only sinking. Sanji imagines a Luffy who is alone, who falls into the water with no one around to drag him out. Who stays under the water, unmoving, but feeling, knowing, hurting. Sanji resolves to never let that happen. He will always be at the side of Monkey D. Luffy.
—
But it happens again. Luffy gets overzealous, because of course he does. Arlong grabs his neck easily, in his large hand, and throws him off of the dock into the water, laughing all the while.
Sanji cringes as he sees Luffy go under. He knows full well that Luffy is in no danger of suffocating- he will be stuck under the water, yes, but the time limit that Arlong thinks he has imposed on his life is arbitrary- it’s no cause for concern.
It shouldn’t be a cause for concern.
Sanji still rushes into the water as soon as he can. He almost pays the price for it.
It doesn’t matter- if he can go his life without ever seeing those eyes staring up at him, powerless to fight or move or speak, he’ll be happy forever. That’s reason enough.
“Don’t do that again,” Luffy tells him, when all is said and done. He’s much more serious than Sanji is accustomed to, uncomfortably so. Sanji tries not to fidget too much under his harsh gaze.
“Do what, Captain?” Sanji tries, playing dumb. Luffy frowns.
“Don’t put my cook in danger for no reason. Don’t put your self in danger. You knew Arlong was lying. You knew I would’ve been fine under the water. There was no time limit, Sanji,” Luffy shakes his dead, “ I don’t have a time limit. I’m dead-”
“Stop saying that you’re dead, Luffy!” Sanji snaps, tone much ruder than he had intended it to be. Sanji is no stranger to insubordinate speech, but speaking like that to Luffy feels more wrong than it ever did to Zeff.
Luffy is clearly surprised at Sanji’s outburst, but not angry. “Huh? Yes, I am, Sanji. You know that I died. My fruit-”
“I don’t give a damn, Luffy!” Sanji says. “You died, but you’re not dead! You’re right here, talking to me! Eating my food! If anything, you’re the most alive person I know!” He’s starting to sound a little hysterical. “So stop saying you’re dead all the time!”
Luffy stares at Sanji. His face seems mostly confused, as though he doesn’t understand why Sanji doesn’t want to be reminded of Luffy’s death at any opportunity. It’s the first time Sanji really wonders about Luffy’s living situation prior to his life at sea. Did the people he was with really not care about him throwing out reminders of his death so often? Did they encourage it?
Luffy, after a few more seconds of staring Sanji down, shrugs. “If it’s what Sanji wants, I can try not to say it as much, I guess?” Luffy still sounds confused, as though he doesn’t quite understand why he shouldn’t say it, but Sanji knows it’s about as good as he’s going to get.
“Thanks, Captain,” He says, and then Luffy asks him for more food, and things move on.
—
“Luffy hasn’t called himself dead in nearly a week,” Zoro says to him one morning, while he smokes off the railing and Zoro idly does sit-ups on the deck. Sanji raises an eyebrow.
“And?”
“I know you have something to do with it,” Zoro says. He scowls and works his jaw, as if he has to fight with his next words to spit them out. “...I’m glad. It unsettled me too.”
Sanji can’t suppress a sly grin. “Mosshead, are you thanking m-”
Zoro quickly stands up, groaning. “Forget it. Shouldn’t have even brought it up. I didn’t mean anything by it, and I’m sure as hell not thanking you, asshole.” He gets up and stomps off, probably to find a bottle of booze, if him ducking into the kitchen means anything.
Sanji just grins wider as he brings his cigarette to his lips, turning back towards the railing to watch the sea.