Chapter Text

Terra.

Land.

Terra smiled as she drew in the fresh air of a new island; the lush bouquets of blooming, spring flowers and greenery wafted along with the crisp breeze. It reminded her of the Flower Capital with its soft, blushing cherry blossoms. 

A buzzing, thrumming earth. 

Alive.

She could feel the harmonic thud of heartbeats between land and its inhabitants, could hear the hum of voices, taste the spiced crackle of life.

She looked down at the light of her heart, her small son. His short green hair matched her own with the soft, gray eyes of his father, wise and knowing. Six years old and already so terribly aware of how the world worked; how humans truly treated one another.

He sniffed the air, naturally connecting with the same spirits as she, and a matching smile cracked. He didn't speak, he never spoke anymore, but his expression sang a thousand songs. 

Land.

A relief sank in their bones.

“Terra.” Koushirou’s whisper in Wanese cut through the moment. She turned to lean closer to him while they walked, the three, golden, teardrop earrings decorating her left ear gently chimed as she moved. “We'll need food and lodging that can accommodate us for a while. From what Arashi heard from Captain Dusk, there aren’t many people willing to head to Reverse Mountain. We'll likely need to buy another set of clothes for our stay, more supplies…” He sighed, pinching his brow between his forefinger and thumb, something he did often these days. 

“Leave the lodging to me and passage to Arashi. You’re good at finding the right supplies. We’ll be alright.” She reassured him. Her hand squeezed Zoro's as she drew him along while they walked, making sure he didn’t get lost in the crowd. 

“Terra, Zoro should have stayed behind with Kuina and the others for the day.” Koushirou eyed the small child with a twinge of irritation. Terra bristled. “He -”

“I can't, Koushirou.” She said firmly, a stiff protectiveness. 

She was unwilling to be apart from her son for more than a few moments at a time, and she knew her in-laws wouldn’t dare to vocally challenge her bull-headedness. Other than Koushirou, of course.

His brow furrowed. “Then, at least stick with m -”

“I’m perfectly capable, and we’ll cover more ground separately.” Terra replied. “We’ll see you later, I promise.” 

Koushirou huffed and reluctantly pulled away from her, taking slow strides down the main road from the docks. His long, black hair tucked under the beige-green hat he wore, jacket a light, inconspicuous brown. He raised the collar and shrugged his shoulders up to make himself look more aloof and small.

Terra sighed and Zoro looked up at her, his head cocked with curiosity. 

“This island will be better.” She’d manifest it herself, if she had to.

Zoro softly smiled.

“No mean Marines in sight.” She clicked her tongue. “Already better.”

He silently giggled at that, his little shoulders shaking, but was interrupted by the vocal grumbling of his stomach. His eyes fell down to his shoes, guilty, an expression that shot through her heart. She'd given him her share of rations both last night and this morning, and clearly hadn’t hidden it from him well enough.

She’d almost punched Koushirou in the throat when he had to go and make it worse by saying ‘samurai don’t get hungry, Zoro’ - something that Zoro took much too seriously to heart.

Their small band of Wanese refugees were all starving, unable to buy necessary supplies from the last island due to the whiff of their presence and the Marines that chased them, forcing them to reside in the caves. It was a week before they were able to barter with Captain Dusk and secure passage here. Dusk and his crew had doled out what rations they could spare, but it hadn’t been enough to satiate anyone’s hunger.

While Terra’s blood sang for a fight with those pompous, fuckwad Marines from the last island, Arashi was more level-headed, not wanting to draw further attention from a party who already wanted to interrogate them about the secluded Land of Wano.

Terra was used to lawlessness by now, Marines didn't scare her. She’d tear them all apart to get what she sought after. The only hunger that burned in her belly was one of freedom, and her son shouldn't feel an ounce of guilt for that.

She bent down to his level and brushed his hair lovingly as he leaned into her touch. 

Her sweet boy. 

“Are you hungry, Zoro?” Terra asked in the common language. She practiced rolling her tongue and lips around the words Captain Dusk had been teaching them, trying to soften her accent. 

He shook his head, the guilty blush on his cheeks deepening for lying to her. He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“You are hungry, and you should be.” She said, resolute. “Let's see if we can scrounge up some food, and, then, we'll find a place to stay. Does that sound like a plan?” 

He nodded, a smile easing the furrow lines already forming on his forehead. 

As Terra stood, something behind her caught Zoro’s eye. He peaked around her skirt, hands twisting in the black material as he watched an unusual ship docking in the distance. It looked like it was made of stone, but living stone…which didn't quite make sense. 

“Hm.” She waited until Koushirou was fully out of sight before turning back to Zoro with a mischievous glimmer in her eye. “Want to go see what that is?”

Zoro nodded and added a little jump of excitement as it surged through his little body. He ran towards it, tugging Terra behind him.

The ship was a snail. 

A snail. 

Like the marvelous transponders that Dusk had showed them. But this - it had an enormity that kept their eyes wide like saucers as they took in the ornamental display. 

“66.” Terra read the flag in a whisper. “What do you think that means?” 

Zoro shrugged.

It was nicer than any ship they'd ever seen, furnished with a large castle - well, what looked really like half a castle - in its center. And Terra wondered how the fuck it stayed floating.

Zoro’s eyes brimmed with a thousand questions that she already knew she couldn't answer for him. Stepping outside the isolation of Wano brought with it endless newness; nearly everything was fascinating and unusual to them. It was, at times, overwhelming. She could only comment on how unique it was to see such a behemoth, sharing in her son's boundless curiosity.

The gangplank descended for a small contingency, marching stiffly in unison. The soldiers’ boots made an odd sound, like air squeaking through rubber, with each step. 

A large man stuck out of the procession, likely a leader based on his smarmy stride and adorned wealth of reds and golds. He barked harsh orders at his soldiers, laden with impatience and entitlement while a smaller man scrambled after him.

Terra brought Zoro closer into her body, tucking them further behind the stack of crates they'd been watching from behind, to keep them out of sight.

Four children - one girl, three boys - followed the contingency with someone who looked to be a haggard nanny or caretaker following suit. She tried to get them to put on their spring jackets, but they resisted and wiggled out of her attempts.The boys, all with colorful, stylized hair, pushed and shoved one another with mean, biting laughter. The girl looked completely disinterested, a despondent boredom, as she twirled her pink hair with one finger.

“How in the hell did we get separated from the rest of the fucking snails?” The massive man barked in an accent Terra couldn’t place.

Ah, there were more snail ships, which likely meant an army of some sort…maybe even an entire citadel. Terra’s mind raced. Where had they come from? Where were they headed? 

“Sire, the storm -” The unlucky attendant wavered.

“Tell me about the fucking storm again and it’ll be your head.” The king threatened, jabbing one of his thick fingers into the man's sternum. “We’re supposed to be crossing the Redline later on this month, and you’re telling me what exactly?”

The Redline. Her heart swelled. They were going to cross Reverse Mountain. 

Terra deflated her own hope; there was no way she was bringing the other Wanese near a man like this. Everyone had their bad days, sure, but some people sought to be the bad days for others, perhaps it would be best to avoid these people like the plague. 

“What I mean to say, your excellency,” The attendant nervously explained. “Is that we sustained much damage and the snail can only do so much -”

“How long for repairs?”

“A month, Sire. Ninety days, tops.” 

“A month?!” The king shouted while the other man cowarded. 

The children ceased their teasing, standing rigid.

Zoro began to shake in Terra's arms, and she knelt down to hold him tightly. 

“It's not Kaido, my darling.” She whispered in their mother tongue. 

While this king may be big, cruel, and unforgiving, he was holding himself up with a hollow emptiness of insecurity; a shell of a man with no spine to back him. 

“It’ll be alright.” She kept her breath even, modeling for Zoro to do the same.

Instinctually, she closed her eyes and scanned for the two inconspicuous blades hidden in her boots, along with the one at her side; the thrum of steel vibrated against her body. 

The contingency passed, the blaring voice of the king pulled any attention to them, murmurs of gossip swelled in the crowd like a humming of bees.

Terra looked back up the gangplank at two souls intentionally trailing back, trying not to stick out - just like Zoro and Terra - and it piqued her curiosity. 

As they descended the gangplank, Terra could see them more clearly: a small boy and a woman, likely a lady of court and her child. They were both dressed plainly, but the little things like proper hygiene, the delicate jewelry, the docile facial features, the curls of soft, blond hair; they all spoke of a kind of aristocracy. Blonds were rare, everywhere but the North Blue.  

The North Blue…

That was quite a journey. Perhaps not as impossible as leaving Wano, but difficult nonetheless.

The woman moved slowly, pausing every so often to cough into a small, blue handkerchief. This didn’t seem to deter the boy nor siphon his joy; he continued to speak excitedly with her while they paused for her to recover. 

Zoro seemed equally pulled into their orbit as he watched the other boy with utter fascination. When they started moving again, reaching the end of the gangplank, the boy said something to make his mother laugh, and the sound made Zoro smile. Terra squeezed his shoulder.

The trance of their silent observation was shattered by a startling squawk and a flurry of frantic feathers as a disoriented bird flew into the side of a passing cart. It flapped on the ground for a moment of struggle before it was able to right itself and sit in the middle of the docks, its little chest heaving like a toad.

Zoro tore away from Terra towards the bird, wiggling out from her grasping hands. She nearly stumbled as she took off after him towards the critter. 

However, 

They were cut off by the little, blond boy who got to it before them, fearlessly shielding it from oncoming traffic, forcing wheelbarrows and carts to abruptly steer around him. 

Zoro darted around the back of another passing cart and up to the boy. Excited, blue eyes lifted to meet Zoro’s and seemed to inherently understand the concern. 

"It's just in shock. Don’t worry, it’ll be okay in a few moments.” The boy squeezed his hands together, like he was holding himself back from touching the bird, reminding himself to only observe.  “See, its neck isn't broken.” 

Zoro took a beat to stare at the boy, taking him in, before glancing back down at the little bird.

The boy crouched down, continuing to keep a respectful distance; he didn’t take his eyes off of the bird and made space for Zoro to see. 

He was a little sweetheart, wasn’t he. 

Terra came up behind Zoro, petting the back of his head before her fingers came to rest on his shoulder, letting him know she was there. He looked up at her, excitement dancing in his eyes, before looking back at the other boy and the bird.

“See, and his wings are okay, too. He doesn’t seem to be in much pain, but we shouldn’t touch him, it could stress him out.”

“Sanji, be gentle.” The woman was slowly nearing them, pausing once more to cough behind her handkerchief. 

“I’m being gentle, Mama.” Sanji (presumably) turned to her with a smile. But his feet couldn’t balance the weight redistribution of his body and he tumbled back with a little sound of surprise. 

Zoro dove down to help him up, but Sanji flinched at the action, causing him to hesitate and pull back. When Sanji collected himself, eyes flitting apologetically, Zoro tried again and helped him up to stand. 

“Thank you.” Sanji said, his hands twisted nervously in his shirt.

 Zoro smiled and helped to dust off his clothes. 

“What excitement did I miss?” Sanji's mother asked when she was finally upon them. 

Now that she was close, Terra's fear buzzed in her limbs. They should depart - another adult was a risk that she couldn't afford to take. What if she worked with the Marines or World Government?

“I'm sorry, we were just leaving.” Terra addressed the other mother before beginning to tug Zoro away from them, while he resisted. He clearly didn't want to leave the little bird or the boy, but they couldn't stay.

“Oh, nothing to apologize for.” The mother fervently dismissed the apology. “Sanji is always making fast friends.”

“I’m Sanji.” He beamed and stuck out his hand to Zoro. “What’s your name?”  

Zoro, unmoving, looked up to her with pleading, soulful eyes; the silent request palpable. 

Why shouldn't he be allowed to be a normal child for a moment? 

To make a friend? 

To have an interaction devoid of fear and paranoia?

Terra’s hand slackened and lowered back down at her side.

“His name is Zoro.” She relented and replied on his behalf, hoping her hushed tones would shield her accent from passersby. Though, they all seemed to have thick accents, which made her feel marginally less exposed.

Sanji pulled Zoro’s hand to his so they could shake hands, a custom her son was still somewhat unfamiliar with, but accepted the gesture. 

“And I’m Terra.” She introduced herself to the duo. 

“Terra.” Sanji rolled the name around in his mouth. “That sounds a bit like your name, Mama.”

“It does!” The other mother replied. “Wonderful to meet you, Terra.” She seemed sincerely thrilled, reaching out to clutch Terra’s hands in hers. 

Terra nearly stepped back, surprised by the act of familiarity and unsure if this was some kind of custom. She was under the impression that only men shook hands in dealings, agreements, or introductions - she hadn't been made aware that women had their own version. To be fair, running for one’s life rarely lent itself to many opportunities to observe or practice common customs.

“I’m Sora. I’m Sanji’s mother. How old is -”

Sanji gasped and movement on the ground drew their collective attention to the little bird who now stood on its legs. It experimentally hopped a few times, gaining its bearings, before it crouched, looked about, and took flight to rejoin its flock.

They stood together in awe, quite taken by the tiny being who had brought them all together, its job seemingly complete. 

“Can they join us for lunch, Mama?” Sanji broke the spell. “I like him.” He looked back at Zoro, who was sporting a stoic scowl. Sanji laughed contagiously at the expression and Zoro helplessly broke into a smile.

“Oh, of course,” Sora lit up and squeezed Terra's hands in excitement. “Please do, we’d love the company.” 

“I - I don't think -” Terra started. 

“On us, please.” Sora moved in tandem with her, now clutching Terra’s arm affectionately.

“We have so much to do, we -” Terra was wavering against the eagerness of a very enthusiastic, blonde woman. She’d never met someone so effusive before.

Zoro's stomach growled again, louder this time. Shit. 

“You're hungry, right?” Sanji asked, head slightly cocked. 

Before Zoro could silently respond, the beating of feet against the pavement interrupted them. A man, dressed in the royal reds and golds, dashed towards Sora with intent. 

“Queen S-Sora -” The man wheezed, clutching his ribs.

“Queen -?” A soft gasp slipped from Terra’s lips. She took a full step back, yanking Zoro to her. 

A queen to a cruel king.

“Please,” The man panted. “You must - travel in - the carriage -”

“Oh. No, thank you.” Sora waved him away. A dismissal he did not obey.

“My lady. I must ins-”

Sora fully turned around, her expression firm and stubborn. “I said ‘no’, William.” Then, her stance softened and she squeezed his forearm. “Just blame me. He's going to anyway.” 

Sora turned on her heel and linked her arm with Terra’s, steering their little group away from a dejected, breathless William in their wake.

“My, so much excitement.” She leaned in to speak in Terra’s ear, as though they'd been friends forever. “Why don't we have a stiff drink and a warm meal at a tavern, hm?” 

Sanji smiled at Zoro again. “Come on, Zoro. Let's eat.” He held out his right hand in invitation, and Zoro’s hand interlaced easily with his.

“No way!” Sora burst into incredulous laughter, her ale sloshed with her merry movements. “Did you really?” 

“I did.” Terra smiled, proud. “They were quite surprised.”

“That's amazing!” Sora's gaze was full of admiration. “I've always wanted to learn swordsmanship.”

“Your kingdom…they won't let their queen learn to defend herself?” Terra asked before taking a sip of her drink, the bitter ale sat heavy on her tongue. She wished the tavern had some sake, but perhaps it hadn’t made its way to the rest of the world yet. 

“No, they're too worried I’ll figure out my worth.” Sora rolled her eyes, a wry chuckle on her lips. “A pretend land with a pretend title. Not like I want it anyway.” She mumbled, under her breath. “I wanted to take over my family’s farm. Maybe buy some cows and horses.” A forlorn hum followed.

Terra waited for her to continue, intrigued, but Sora seemed more eager to polish off the remains of her cup. 

From what she had observed, this queen was a feral fox forced to act like a little kitten; Terra happened to like the fox much more.

Sanji finished his bite of his sandwich and shifted closer to Zoro. “Your mom’s a swordsman? That's amazing.”

Zoro smiled. Terra stifled hers behind her mug, taking another sip in solidarity with Sora.

“What about your dad?” Came the next question.

Zoro nodded while he took a small bite of food.

“Wow! Do you want to be a swordsman when you grow up?”

Zoro nodded again, a bit more enthusiastically.

“You don't say much, do you.” Sanji giggled, and Zoro joined, followed by a soft shake of his head. 

Terra stilled. Zoro had giggled…vocally. That precious sound, one they hadn’t heard in months, this small child had pulled it from him, with ease. She sat in awe, trying to keep tears at bay, not wanting to scare him by making too big of a deal. But, shit, she would do anything to hear that sound again.

“That's okay. You still say a lot without words.” Sanji took another bite of his sandwich and shrugged, confirming that he didn't mind it. 

His warm nature clearly took Zoro by surprise. It wasn't uncommon for people to get frustrated with his silence; a muteness born from bearing witness to the horrors of mankind. But Sanji brushed it off, like the silence was normal; a kindness that made Zoro more comfortable…more at home. His small shoulders softened, furrow smoothed.

Terra relaxed in kind, watching how content he was with their mysterious, new friends. 

The meeting of four souls felt kismet. Usually, Terra was more pragmatic than believing in Fate, but after all they'd been through, this was just… 

Right. 

Meant to be.

However short-lived, it was heartwarming to see Zoro get to be a child again.

Zoro wordlessly pointed at Sanji. 

“Me?” Sanji asked before moving in his seat to face Zoro, he wiggled with excitement. “My mama is a queen, and she's everybody's favorite because she's the nicest.” His face fell a fraction before he regained a mask of brightness. “But she's not well…uh, she's sick.” 

Sora shifted uneasily, continuing to observe the boys. Terra watched her for a hair longer, seeing the mournful, hopeless truth etched upon her face: Sora wasn't just sick, she was dying. 

Her heart sank.

Sanji continued, “And Germa’s doctors - oh, Germa’s where we live, like on the snails - they don’t know how to help her and she’s getting sicker, and we're supposed to see a doctor on one of the islands, on our way to the East Blue, but we hit a storm -” He paused to heave in air, running out of breath. “And our snail got separated from the other snail ships, and now we're stuck here, probably for a while because our snail isn't doing well either.” 

Zoro stared, wide-eyed. 

“Right?” Sanji affirmed with a nod. “But I like when we get to come to land. I like the sea, I just don’t like being stuck with…” He bit his bottom lip and shook his head. “I shouldn't say.” 

Sora shook her head to herself, near imperceptible, right hand trembling. She squeezed her cup to cease it, to no avail.

Terra thought of the insecure king and the mean children. How they contrasted with the warmth and sincerity of these two; one would never know they were related…if they were related.

Sanji continued, changing his tune. “Each island has different ingredients and specialties and different meals, and it’s nice to learn about them, especially because someday I’m going to be a cook. Well, a chef, because they’re important.” Sanji spoke between bites. “Have you ever heard of the All Blue?”

Zoro shook his head, enamoured with Sanji’s storytelling, pulled in by each smile, each stroke of whimsy, each gasp of excitement. Sanji acted as though he had been waiting his whole life to share a meal with Zoro; ‘acted’ wasn’t exactly the right word, as there was no performance to it. 

Each time Zoro was about to look to Terra to ask a question on his behalf, to slake his curiosity, Sanji ended up beating her to it. He answered every potential question about this mythical sea that all chefs searched for, tirelessly. Well, if they were a chef worth their salt, Sanji added. 

Terra's spirits sank when she saw the position of the sun in the sky, the way the shadows began to cast to the east. 

This fateful moment was ending, much too abruptly. 

How lovely it had been to pretend that they could be four, normal people for a few moments.

She was sure that she and Sora could watch their boys continue to weave this magical bond late into the night, but Terra was torn by obligation and she had indulged enough of their time.

Sora shifted nervously in her seat, likely sensing that Terra was preparing to pull away.

“We still have errands to run.” Terra said softly, not hiding her disappointment.

“Of course.” Sora looked crushed.

“This was wonderful, though.” Terra added, wistful. 

“We could -” Sora started. 

“If you wanted to -” Terra’s voice overlapped.

Both women laughed. 

“I’d love it if you'd join us.” Terra offered with resolute confidence.

“Oh, wonderful!” Sora beamed with radiant joy. “Where’s our first stop?” 

“Twenty-five thousand beri per cabin for a month of stay with you? You must be joking.” Sora turned to Terra with a stellar performance. “I believe they had better rates at The Duck’s Inn, perhaps we should go there.” She whispered just loud enough for the innkeeper to hear.

The innkeeper’s thick mustache bristled in dual panic and frustration. “Well, now, let’s just hold on -” 

“No, you're right. We should take our beri elsewhere if you can’t accommodate.”

“I’m sure we could figure something out.” How easily he caved.

Terra was impressed; Sora may not be able to wield a sword, but she could certainly silence men with that sharp tongue and a sweet charisma. Her subtle wealth helped, too. She could see him eyeing the jewelry, thinking of the business Sora would bring. Terra watched the subtle smirk of his lip, the eagerness in his eyes, though he seemed to have no idea who he was dealing with. 

“What’s your best offer, then?” Sora leaned against the desk, her eyes sparkled.

Terra readjusted the bags of groceries balanced on her hip and called for Zoro to stick by Sanji as they wandered by the outskirts of a large prairie, parallel to their mothers. And, like clockwork, Sanji pulled Zoro back on course (again) as they made their way to the pair of rented cabins. 

“Will two cabins be enough for the nine of you?” Sora asked, pausing to take a momentary reprieve. 

“We prefer to stay close.” 

They preferred to stay close. The Shimotsukis didn’t like being separated. Even in Wano, they were tight knit; it was sweet…and exclusive. Terra’s low status wasn’t simply remedied by her marriage to Arashi, and the tension was palpable, the message firm: keep out. 

Kouzaburou, the old blacksmith, had been the most open of them all. He was able to see Terra - beyond her status, beyond the mistakes of her father - to see her strength and resilience. 

When Terra had returned to their temporary outpost - a small shack near the docks - after securing the cabins, to tell her in-laws of their accommodations, they didn’t bother following her. Kouzaburou had wanted to join them, but Furiko grabbed him and said they’d stay until Koushirou could take them there. The undercurrent: Terra wasn’t capable of protecting them on the short journey from the shack to the cabins. 

That was fine - her chest tightened - they could do as they pleased. 

“Understandable.” Sora nodded. “It can be… nice to be around family.” There was an emptiness to her words.

Terra readjusted the bags again. 

“Will you let me help you carry the groceries?” Sora tapped her fingers against Terra's forearm. “I feel guilty for slowing you down.”

“Not at all. It's good strength training.” Terra flashed her a bright grin. 

“Mama!” Sanji called, waving to her. “Zoro found a blue butterfly!”

“That's wonderful, love!” Sora matched his enthusiasm with a genuine, wide smile. 

Zoro and Sanji giggled as it took flight away from the flowers, chasing it along its flight pattern.

“This is so good for him.” Sora said when she was able to resume walking.

“Being on land?”

“No, being with Zoro. Being with someone who isn't trying to…” Sora shook her head. “Who is sweet and kind.” 

“I feel the same.” Terra admitted, scuffing her boot against the dirt.

Sora glanced knowingly at Terra. “You both have been through quite a bit, haven't you?” 

“Nothing we can't handle.” She shrugged.

Sora laughed. “Sounds like something I'd say.” She adjusted her skirts as they continued down the dusty path between heavily wooded forest and vast, open prairie.

“And you two…you've been through a lot?” Terra was quite curious about this queen of a pretend land, as she called herself.

“Sure. Hasn't everyone?” Sora smirked, teasing in similarly cryptic tongues.

Terra chuckled. “I suppose life isn't very kind.”

“Rarely.”

“Your illness…” 

“It's not contagious.” Sora immediately replied, a furrow of defensiveness creased her brow.

“Oh, I'm not worried about that. I was going to ask…” Terra bit the inside of her cheek in thought. “How long you have…but that seems rather insensitive.”

Given the silence, a pang of worry thrummed - she'd overstepped. 

“How did you know?” Sora asked quietly.

“You wear your emotions on your sleeve.” Terra said it like it was something to admire, because it was. 

Sora's eyes widened before she erupted into laughter, cut off quickly by the hacking cough. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't -”

Sora waved her apology away. “No, no -” Another bout of heaving breath. “I miss the directness. No one's direct with me anymore.” She chuckled again, straining to gain enough air. 

“Mama?” Sanji peeked out from the prairie. A green tuft of hair followed blond. 

“She's alright.” Terra waved at him with a bright performance of a smile. 

It worked because the two boys disappeared into the foliage just as quickly as they appeared. 

Sora sighed, closed her eyes, and tilted up to the sun, letting it warm her cheeks. 

“They say I have about a year, maybe more, maybe less.” She eventually replied. 

“That’s horrible.” Terra said, heart aching as she watched the parting of weeds and flowers with the boys’ continued play, their giggling laughter blended in with the chittering of cicadas.

“It makes soaking in the moments more meaningful, I suppose. Knowing I won't have much time makes it easier to be present.” 

In an odd way, Terra related. Living life not knowing if the next day was guaranteed didn't alleviate the grief, but made moments more intimate and real, especially with Arashi and Zoro.

Sora kicked a pebble and tracked it, continuing to nudge it down the road as they walked. “Sanji doesn't know the…timeline, so please keep this between us.”

“Certainly.” Terra nodded firmly. “Is your husband…” She wasn't sure how to phrase the rest of the question, and unsure of how open Sora truly was.

“What? Supportive?” Sora laughed bitterly. “No, no, no, not at all. He does what is socially obligated.” She eyed Terra with a glimmer of mischief and dropped her voice low. “Often, I dream of running away with Sanji. Taking off in the middle of the night by rowboat or stowing away on a trade ship.”

“Aren’t you allowed to leave?” Was she a prisoner or a queen?

Sora looked at her blankly before a smile took over. “You know, I don't actually know.” She chuckled at that. “On the one hand, he despises us and would probably be glad to be rid of us. On the other hand, he needs someone he views as ‘less than’ to legitimate himself. It's a tough balance.” 

“Forgive me, but he sounds like a dick.” She nudged Sora lightly, earning another soft laugh. 

“Yeah, he really is.” She sighed again.

“I ask this with curiosity, and only because Sanji and you seem so…different from them. The other children…are they yours, too?”

Sora's face dropped and twisted. “They are, but they don't - they've been poisoned against me…us, really. They can't even be in the same room with me.” She bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling, but Terra had already caught it. “If I somehow tried to escape, they'd never leave with me.” 

How terrible; how fucking cruel.

Terra adjusted the bags of food to her other hip before drawing Sora into a half-hug, something she rarely ever did. “I'm so sorry.”

Sora startled before she eased into the embrace, squeezing back. “Thank you, Terra.”

“Who was that woman you were with today?” Koushirou didn’t hide the accusation in his tone. 

Terra narrowed her eyes, snapping one of the snowpea pods pointedly. But he didn’t look up from what he was doing, pretending to be focused on his task.

“What woman?” Arashi asked, glancing up from the map he was reading, curiosity piqued. He leaned back and drew his hand into his haramaki - the green one she’d made for him - hooking his thumb over its edge, rubbing the material there. 

Terra delayed her husband in favor of confronting her in-law. “Did you follow us?” 

“Just happened to be passing by.” Koushirou lied.

“Riiight.” She drawled. “Well, no one to worry about. She’s just a new friend.”

“You made a friend?” Arashi smiled, surprised. 

“We did. Sora has a son Zoro’s age. Sanji.”

Arashi’s eyes brightened as he looked back to Zoro. “You made a friend, too?”

Zoro nodded, a crinkle of a smile.

“Did you get along with him? Best behavior, right?”

Zoro took a bite of onigiri and nodded vigorously. 

“Sanji wants to be a chef someday and told us about the All Blue. Right?” Terra offered.

Zoro nodded again, eyes brimming with excitement. She often thought maybe, just maybe, it would be the jolt he needed to talk, but his little feet kicking happily under the table was more than enough. 

“Oh, a chef.” Arashi gasped with excitement, to match Zoro's. “Well, when he opens his restaurant, we’ll all be sure to go, right?”

Zoro giggled and nodded. Arashi looked up at Terra in shock. 

“Did he just -”

“He did. He’s been giggling all day with Sanji.” Terra affectionately combed her fingers through Zoro’s green hair.  

“Ah, this Sanji has a gift.” Arashi chuckled. 

“So his muteness is a choice.” Koushirou said under his breath, and yet just loud enough to hear.

Zoro’s face fell, gray eyes stared blankly at his remaining onigiri.

“Koushirou.” Terra growled. That urge to punch him in the throat returned again.

“Hey, I wouldn’t talk if I were him either.” Arashi winked at Zoro, smoothing that little furrow of his brow. “What’s there to say anyway, right?” 

Zoro’s smile held uncertainty.

“I should go get the others.” Koushirou put away the last of the valuables in the false floorboard before sliding the wood in place. “And my daughter,” He stood and dusted off his hands. “Whom I protected. By leaving her with my people.” He pointedly directed at Terra and turned on his heel to leave.

She rolled her eyes and waited for Koushirou to latch the door behind him before saying, “Yeah, hide her away, Koushirou. Why bother letting her see the light of day at all?” She grumbled in a mocking tone. 

“Love, he’s just trying to get through this, same as we are.” Arashi said.

“I know, but does he have to be such an ass about it?”

Arashi sucked air through his teeth. “Terra.”

“I know, I know.” She pointed at Zoro, a playful growl. “Don’t repeat that to uncle.” Zoro huffed a silent laugh at the irony.

“So, this woman,” Arashi pondered while he pretended to flip through the pages he had been working on. “She’s special, hm?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you never let anyone close, Terra.” His expression was warm, understanding; perhaps, even, impressed. “So how did she get to you?” 

She knew he wouldn’t dare tell her to stay away or stop seeing their new friends, he knew her better than that. But still, she felt somewhat protective of them; she wanted to keep this just for her and Zoro a little while longer.

“They’re both special, aren’t they?” She looked to Zoro for confirmation, he nodded. “Very warm, sweet people.”

“Yeah, and strong, hm?”

“Well, yes, they are both very strong in their own ways.” Terra shrugged.

“Your mother loves strong people.” Arashi spoke to Zoro with a glimmer in his eye. “Lucky for me. How else did I get such a catch?” He wrapped his arm around Terra’s waist and squeezed her to him.

Terra laughed. “Alright, enough of that.” She playfully swatted him away. “Your mother will be here soon.”

“Ah, yes, we must be buttoned-up for grandma.” Arashi had traversed around the table to tickle Zoro’s sides, pulling another giggle from their son. “Gods, I could bask in that sound all day.” He crouched down and kissed Zoro’s cheek before looking up at Terra.

“I know,” She leaned down and kissed Zoro’s head, taking a deep inhale of the smell of sun, earth, and flowers tangled in his hair. “It’s beautiful.”

Zoro smiled happily between them, munching on the last of his onigiri. 

Zoro’s chin rested on the windowsill, patiently watching and waiting as he had every morning for the past fifteen mornings. This kismet gift they’d been handed was now more of a routine for them, adding a normalcy none had dared dream of until now. 

Each morning brought Zoro to wait by the window nearest the door, looking like a little coiled spring readying itself to be set off at any moment. Sometimes, he even preferred to eat his breakfast there, just so he didn’t miss Sanji.

Arashi and Koushirou would leave to work odd jobs they could find while Furiko would go over to Kouzaburou’s cabin, mostly to get some distance from Terra. Really, she suspected, to keep Kuina and Nova away from Terra, wanting a chance to train the tomboy out of the young girl. How would it look if Kuina was a bold, opinionated samurai like Terra? Perish the thought.

Regardless, it gave them space to host Sora and Sanji, letting them indulge in the ease and peace these moments permitted. 

The mothers would often drink tea and talk on the porch while the boys ran about causing mischief. They’d gather flowers or weeds, sometimes acorns, and Sora would sort the edible and medicinal ones, teaching Terra and the boys as she explained. Terra would chase the boys from time to time after enough begging, while Sora watched, or would teach them the mindfulness of her swordwork by having them listen to the wind and the trees. 

It was bliss.

This morning, Zoro’s excited body rocked in place, lifting and dropping his heels in a windup. The moment he began to hear voices from around the bend, he swung open the door. 

Terra finished folding Arashi’s blue yukata, put it away, and made her way to the threshold. Her heart brightened when she saw the duo slowly making their way up the path, leaning against the wooden frame with a wide smile. 

“Good morning!” She called to the pair, but Zoro didn’t give Sanji a chance to reply before he was tugging him away in the direction of the flower boxes near the second cabin’s garden where green sprouts had started to peek through the earth.

Sora chuckled as the two boys ran to their destination. “Good morning! I’m sorry we’re late, but I come bearing gifts.” She held up a parcel, wrapped in brown paper, as she stepped up the creaky, wooden steps, handing it to Terra.

“You didn’t have to bring anything.” They embraced, which is something Terra apparently did now, surprising herself each time. She was rarely known to be an affectionate person outside of her immediate family, but Sora and Sanji were just…different.

 As they settled in for a treat, the open windows brought the chime of giggles and sounds of their children playing. Terra hoped Nova would let Kuina join them, knowing that she wouldn’t, not as long as Furiko had anything to say about it. 

Sora found the sharper of the three knives they had - the one Terra usually kept at her side when they went out - to slice the indulgent sponge cake. Lemon, if Terra’s sharp sense of smell guessed correctly. While Sora laid out the scant dishware on the wooden kitchen table, Terra poured the hot water from the cabin’s cast iron kettle into their chipped, white teapot, some of its blue roses fading.

“Oh, the spoons.” Sora twirled around and found them easily.

That warmth continued to spread in Terra - how easily Sora folded into this version of home.

“I must tell you all about the gossip at the bakery.” Sora began, eyes dancing.

It was on a cloudy afternoon when Koushirou confronted her. The swell of storm on the cusp, a chill in the air. The spring warmth was turning, shifting, convulsing.

Zoro’s body went rigid at the abrupt knock at the door.

“Who is it, Zoro?” Sanji asked.

“Terra.” Koushirou said when she opened the door, the wind blowing at his back. “We need to talk.” He peeked around her shoulder at the sight of Sora on the bench and his eyes narrowed.

“What are you -” Terra started before Koushirou pushed his way in.

“So it is her.” He snarled, quiet though dangerous. “This was the woman on that horrid man’s ship. The one from Germa.” His nostrils flared, jaw set. “How dare you bring someone like that to us. She could be a spy.” He hissed the last bit.

“What are you talking about?” Terra asked, fire quick to erupt. “She’s not one of-”

“How could you endanger all of us?” He turned on her, forcing her to take a step back, her hands reached back for the wall, fingertips meeting the cracked wood.

“We’ll give you a moment.” Sora’s eyes were wide with fear as she began to pull Sanji away. 

Sanji resisted at first before he met her gaze and allowed himself to be drawn to her side. He looked back at his friend with panic as Zoro silently trailed after them as though in a haze. Terra wanted so badly to comfort them all but her own anger was taking shape.

“Tomorrow -” Sanji attempted. 

“You are not invited tomorrow.” Koushirou snapped at the boy. Sanji cowarded behind Sora’s legs.

Terra rounded on Koushirou. “This is not your home, you do not get to say -”

“Enough -” He tried to cut her off.

“What is going on with you? You’re being despicably rude.” She admonished in Wanese, gesturing to the retreating guests. 

Her eyes met Sora’s for a moment, suspended in time, before Sora closed the door behind her.

“And you’re being stupid.” Koushirou spat. “She could be an informant, a spy -”

“As you’ve already accused, with no ev-” Terra bit.

“She could be using the boy to get information from us, to steal from us.”

“Baseless accusations, of people you don’t even -”

“You are not thinking -”

“Sanji is good. He wouldn’t steal or tell on us.” Zoro interrupted, clear and concise in the common tongue. 

Terra almost agreed with him, about to propel the words into the conversation, before her jaw dropped. 

Koushirou’s eyes widened in surprise, he turned around, and they both stared at a very unphased Zoro. 

In complete disbelief, Terra knocked past Koushirou to make her way to her son’s side and slowly dropped to her knees, turning him towards her. “What did you just say, love?” 

She couldn’t help the tears forming, it had been so long since hearing his beautiful voice; to hear it so calm, so protective, so assured brought a wealth of emotion. Her heart felt like it was going to burst.

Gray eyes firmly met hers. “I said, Sanji is good. He wouldn’t hurt us. Right, Mama?” He looked beyond the adults' responses, focused on the task at hand. 

“That’s exactly right, Zoro.” A tear crawled down her cheek as she wrapped him in a tight embrace. “That’s right.”

The boys played near the hearth with a few of Sanji’s wooden toy boats that he had brought, whispering to one another with soft smiles, enjoying their own little world.

Terra knelt across from Sora on the cabin’s hardwood floor and, with both hands, handed her the katana: Wado Ichimonji. 

Sora held with care while her right fingers danced across Wado’s white saya, up to the matching white ito wrapped around the dark samegawa. 

“Her name is Wado.” Terra introduced them.

“Wado.” Sora held her reverently. “My, she’s beautiful.”

“Kouzaburou made her for me when Arashi and I married. He said Wado held the unbridled passion and dreams of my purest essence. And maybe a bit of my stubbornness, but that was too difficult to wield and channel.” Terra smiled with a touch of roguishness. “She helped us escape Wano and has cut down a few men between then and now.”

Revealing Wado to Sora felt like revealing a part of herself, exposing something treasured and sacred. 

“She feels so grounded, so sure of herself.” Sora observed. “Dream-like, but tethered to the earth. Does that make sense?”

“It does.” Terra preened, proud. 

“May I unsheath her?” 

“Carefully, yes. She’s very sharp.” 

The boys had been silently watching them, their curious souls soaking everything in. They quietly crawled a bit forward towards their mothers, not wishing to get caught. She smiled at their wonder and made eye contact with her son who blushed mischievously at being seen. His shimmering eyes dropped to Wado with awe and wonder.

Sora slowly unsheathed the sword, beholding the katana in all her glory. Terra took the saya from her, granting her more freedom to touch.

“Holy shit.” Sora chuckled in disbelief, fingers gliding over the dull edge of the sword, unable to help herself. “It’s like I can feel her. She’s so certain…and patient.”

“That, she is. She’s a wonder.” Terra’s smile widened. “She’ll go to the next girl in the family, so that would be Kuina.”

Zoro grunted, displeased and Terra playfully tsked. She already knew how he felt about it; it didn’t help that Kuina was already better at swordsmanship than he was (no matter how Furiko and Koushirou felt about such activities). However, Zoro often used his jealousy to challenge and better himself. It was good for him to have something to aspire to aside from Terra and Arashi.

While Sora continued to admire the named katana, Terra reached and took a small item from the side table and placed it on her lap. 

“And, this,” Deft fingers unwrapped the twine and peeled back the soft, cloth-like paper while Sora resheathed Wado. “This is my second most prized possession.” 

She revealed a gilded kushi. The unique emerald coloring from the tortoiseshell was complemented by its gilded paint and small cherry blossoms petals adorning the comb. 

“This was the only thing I ever received from my mother.” She smiled fondly before offering it to Sora who held it delicately. 

“And now it is yours.” Terra finished.

Blue eyes widened, Sora’s right hand rose to hover over her mouth.

“Oh, Terra, I couldn’t -” Hand dropped down to press into her heart. “This is too precious, I -”

“Please.” Terra said firmly, taking her hand in both of hers as Sora continued to clutch the comb. “I want you to have it.” 

Sora squeezed her hand in return, their gaze locked and lingering.

“Alright, but only if you take this.” She handed the kushi back to Terra and reached into her hair, tied up in a full bun today. She pulled the blue ribbon free, her blonde hair tumbling down her back, framing her face, and presented it to Terra. 

“My absolute favorite ribbon.” She beamed. “It was my mother’s. She did the first bit of embroidery, and I finished the other half after she passed.”

“Sora, I can’t -” The fine, blue silk and expert craftsmanship was stunning. It was too much, too -

“Haven’t we been here before?” She teased. “I want you to have it.”

Zoro’s hand rested on Terra’s shoulder as he had crept closer to get a peek. “It’s pretty, Mama.”

 “It’s too soon. We’re not ready yet.” Terra took a sip from her cup in punctuation.

“Terra,” Arashi’s voice was too tender. She wanted to fight to argue, and he was making it impossible to do so. “We agreed that we couldn’t stay here forever. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

“We can’t, Arashi…we just can’t.” She gestured up to the loft where their sleeping child lay, spread out on his futon next to theirs. Furiko had abandoned hers, moved to the Shimotsuki’s cabin in a silent act of protest against Terra. The old woman was convinced that the blonde witch had ensnared Terra and would bring them to their certain doom. 

They all thought Terra was mad anyway, why not add kindling to the fire.

Zoro’s soft, peaceful snores contrasted the crackling tension in the cabin. 

“He loves Sanji, and it’s helped him so much. Please.” 

Arashi took her hand in his, thumbing over the calloused fingers from years of craft. “And you, Terra. It’s helped you.” His eyes met hers, filled with warmth. “But the Vinsmokes aren’t staying here forever either. They’ve already been delayed as long as we have.” Arashi dropped his voice. “What I’ve overheard…Terra, they say Judge is getting quite restless. Causing some problems, pulling rank and calling in favors. He’s trying to get them out as soon as possible, love.”

“Sora hasn’t mentioned anything more to me other than they were able to locate the other snail ships, but it could take a while for them to get here. We could wait -” Both her hands squeezed his. 

“You know I can’t do that.” Arashi said, raising his free hand to cup her cheek, threading his fingers through her green hair while he spoke. “We may not get another opportunity to leave. The captain said we’d have another week, maybe two, but it depends. We need to be ready.”

“But -” She was starting to flood with emotion. 

“Terra -”

“Please, she doesn’t have much more time. Please, just give me a bit more. Please.” Tears fell from her eyes, wetting his hand. 

He brought his forehead to knock against hers. “I know, love, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Come with us.” Pulled from an authentic place, the words burst out of her. 

“What?” Sora had flour dusted all over her fingers as she was about to knead the dough for the rolls, it fell to the table in a soft mist of white.

“Mama, it’s baking!” Sanji called from their spot near the hearth. The boys were side by side, hands in their laps as they watched the pie heat and bubble, splashing droplets of cherry juice into the fire, crackling and sizzling. Zoro’s eyes were wide, in awe of the magic of baking.

“That’s wonderful, darling.” Sora cheered from the table before her she turned back to Terra, face darkened, comically serious. “Wait, what did you say?”

An excitement thrummed in the air between them.

“You and Sanji, you should come with us.” She clarified, trying to calm her thudding heart. 

Sora sat back while Terra sat down in the opposite seat, setting down the rolling pin she’d been dusting with flour.

“That’s - how - when?” Sora asked, interrupting herself.

“In a week, maybe two, according to Arashi. But we’d have to be ready to go when we get the news.”

“Right.” Sora bit the inside of her cheek, in thought. “I - you - I want to. But… I mean, how would this work?”

“Well, he said the captain could accommodate two more, as long as we were willing to work and pay. Other than that, I think… just packing.” 

Sora shook her head and bit her bottom lip, as she often did when she was deep in thought. 

“Think on it. You don’t have to answer now.” Terra offered, not ready to hear rejection. “But… maybe sooner rather than later.”

“Don’t your in-laws hate me?” A mischievous smile broke the tension in her face. 

“Yeah, but they hate me, too.” Terra shrugged. They chuckled. 

“I mean, I would love it, you know I would.” Sora’s blue eyes glimmered. “We could have that farm with the cows and horses.”

We.

Terra’s heart warmed. “I’d insist on a goat or two.” 

“Oh, absolutely. The boys can name them.” Sora giggled. “Between the cows and goats, the greenery for Arashi’s dojo will always be maintained.”

“Genius.” 

“Boys?” Sora called to them. “If you could name two goats, what would you name them?”

“Cherry Pie.” Zoro immediately responded, not taking his eyes off the hearth. 

Terra chuckled behind her hand. 

“Yeah!” Sanji clapped. “Cherry and Pie!”

Zoro burst out in a fit of giggles, followed quickly by Sanji. 

Sora turned back to Terra with a beaming smile. “That sounds great to me.”

“You’re sure they’ll be here?” Arashi reiterated as they packed in a fury. 

Zoro was in the process of helping, but kept getting distracted by looking out the window. She knew he was hoping to catch soft candlelight lighting the trail, signaling the arrival of the two they eagerly waited on. 

The rumbling thunder was making them more on edge, Zoro more than anyone. He paced closer to the window.

“She said she would. And they have until dawn, don’t they?” Terra tried to keep herself calm, but it had been hours past when Sora promised.

She grabbed the extra pack Sora had prepared and left with them, filled with Sanji and her clothes, a mix of plain beiges and muted browns, adding it to the pile. They knew to pack light, Sora would be only bringing another two bags with them; some money to get them by, some sentimental items, and supplies of medicines from her doctors to last as long as they could.

Terra’s heart was in her throat at the thought of what the hold up could be, she couldn’t allow her mind to wander to the worst. 

Not until Zoro ran to the door with a despondent yelp, wretching it open. 

“Zoro -” She ran after him. 

“Terra -” Arashi called.

Any thought left Terra’s head the moment she saw Sora crumpled on the path, fingers dragged in the dirt as she doubled over in a fit of coughing. 

Sora heaved and hacked, shaking with each gasp of air. “I’m so sorry, I did it wrong, Terra, I’m so sorry -” 

Terra ran to her side, knees scraping against the ground. She tried to grab Sora’s waist to help her to stand, thwarted by another bout of wheezing coughs.

“I’m so sorry.” Sora repeated, shaking her head. 

“What do you mean?” Terra asked, desperate.

“Mama?” Sanji’s cheeks had long been stained with tears. He held a bulk of her hair in his little hands, strands falling around to frame her sweaty face. Their packs lay scattered by Sora’s feet.

“Please,” She grabbed Terra’s arm, looking up at her through the strands of sweat-soaked, blonde hair. Her eyes looked wild. “You have to leave us behind. Go back into the cabin and forget us.”

“No.” Zoro clutched Sanji’s arm, looking to Terra with a horror that she’d only seen in Wano, just before they’d escaped. 

“Sora, please, explain.” Terra begged.

“They’re coming. I’m sorry.” Sora gasped and sobbed. “We couldn’t make it, Terra. I’m so sorry, I failed you.”

“No, no, you didn’t -”

“Terra, we have to go back inside.” Arashi’s voice was an anchor of reason in an oncoming storm.

“I can’t -” Terra shook her head, unwilling to leave them - she couldn’t leave them. 

Not like this.

The rain began to fall from the heavens.

“Papa, help them.” Zoro begged through his sobs, his hand still gripping Sanji who was crying into his mother’s hair, his free hand holding onto Zoro’s shirt for dear life.

Sora squeezed Terra’s hand before dropping it and pushing her away. “Go, please. I can’t drag you into this.” 

They heard the sounds of distant shouting from the edge of town. 

They were too close. There wasn’t enough time.  

“Arashi, bring me Wado.” Terra demanded. 

“Terra -”

“No, you can’t.” Sora growled, firm and forceful. 

“Sora, please.” Terra begged over the downpour of rain.

“Terra.” Sora’s fingers dug into her arm. “Run.”

“Mama, no!” Sanji wailed. 

Arashi grabbed Zoro and yanked him from Sanji. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He said through a tight jaw, trying to ignore the desperate cries of the boys. Terra couldn’t see his heart breaking, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the wild, blue depths.

Zoro screamed once Arashi had successfully pulled him away and carried him inside. Terra partially wrapped her arm around Sanji, trying to soothe him in any way she could, warming him with her body.

“Go.” Sora ordered again, and something soft and tender shattered between them as she yanked Sanji back to her body. 

Terra’s heart broke. 

She knew she had to leave. But, she couldn’t -

The beating of hooves against the dirt pavement of the path was followed by shouting - they were coming. 

They were coming.

Terra stumbled to stand and took a shuddering exhale. She clutched her chest, having trouble breathing. 

She could hear Zoro crying from inside the cabin; she had to be with him.

“I -” She didn’t know how to finish it all, how to say goodbye. Couldn’t believe that this was it. 

This couldn’t be - this couldn’t be how it ended. 

“I know.” Sora smiled weakly. “Me too.”

Terra shuddered her inhale and squeezed her eyes closed, taking another step back before turning on her heel and running back inside. Arashi closed it softly behind her, finally able to release Zoro into her arms. Terra sank against the door, clutching him to her, unsure if the shaking was coming from her body or her son’s; likely both. He wailed, muffled into her chest and pulled at her dress, inconsolable.

Arashi leaned against the door and peeked through the curtain to watch out the window. He’d already doused the fire and candles to make sure the soldiers couldn’t see them through the windows. 

It would just look like all the other dark cabins.

“Shit, there’s so many of them.” Arashi whispered, terror-struck, as the hoofbeats died down.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” The voice Terra knew to be Judge’s erupted over the rain.

“Mama, please,” Zoro pulled on her desperately. “We have to help them.”

“We can’t,” Terra wept, holding him tighter. “I’m sorry, my love, we can’t.” 

“Running away? Really?” Judge’s voice cut through the thunder. “Has that illness rotted your brain?” 

Arashi inhaled sharply just as Terra heard a slap, and Sora cried out in agony. 

“Mama!” Sanji screamed. 

Terra squeezed her eyes closed, pressing her body against the door as she tried to hold everything tight, to silence her sobs. Each thread in her body was snapping, one after the other.

“Get up and shut up.” Judge yelled. “I’m taking you two worthless burdens back to the ship, whether dead or alive. Make your choice.”

Lightening cracked across the sky.

It wasn’t long before they heard Sora’s placating, apologetic tones - Terra took a pinprick of relief from knowing she was still alive - followed by Judge’s order to depart. 

Her heart tore with each hoofbeat, retreating back towards the town; towards the docks; away from them. 

Arashi walked to the center of the cabin, stunned. He wiped down his face with a shuddering sigh before slowly dropping to his knees. Trembling fingers reached to try and fold a shirt. He got half way through shoving it into a pack before sitting back on his heels, chest collapsed. 

Terra held her son while she sobbed, Zoro’s little fists hit the door behind her with rage. She prayed that the storm shielded the sounds of their grief.

“Come.” Terra woke Zoro from his light slumber when the sky began to lighten with the cusp of a rising sun, beckoning a new dawn. 

He slowly sat up, lifting his head off her chest, and allowed her to shift and stretch from the spot by the door.

Arashi brought over some makeshift bandages and a basin of water. Zoro held out his bloodied hands in silence, knowing what they had to do. Arashi and Terra took one hand each, cleaning the dried blood and bandaging their son’s hands in silence before scrubbing the blood off the door where his little fists had attempted again and again to break through. 

Zoro stood in complete stillness while Terra and Arashi gathered their things. 

“We have a stop before heading to the ship, alright, love?” Terra said, opening the cabin door and strapping two packs to her shoulders. She held a third in her right hand, and reached her left to hold her son’s hand.

Zoro looked straight ahead and barely registered her words… until he nodded. He picked up his small satchel, placed his hand in hers, and followed her out. 

Their trio took their time, no longer really caring if they made the ship or not. They found their way to the shoreline and dropped their packs on the sand. The water just met the toes of their boots while they looked out at the horizon where they could see the familiar gray speck of a stone snail ship making its way to the Redline.

Terra could feel the threads of their bond holding tight. No matter the distance, it never slacked, remaining strong. 

Her gaze remained on Germa. 

“You will find him again, Zoro.” She said in Wanese, the words bound like a spell. 

The unsaid bit, lingering and humming: Terra and Sora would never meet again. Sora would likely die in the next year, if she lasted that long. This was always going to be temporary, a moment flexed in time. But it still felt unfair. They were so close to a shared taste of freedom, and it was cruel to have this, too, ripped away. 

And, yet, while they failed, they would have failed if they hadn’t tried. She didn’t regret it, not at all. She held precious their bond, the ways they created ripples to waves during their short time together. They were allowed to dream of more, for themselves, for their children, for each other.

She looked down at Zoro, scooped him up into her arms, and kissed his forehead. 

Arashi grasped her waist in his hands, chest pressed into her back, his chin hooked over her shoulder - the warmth needed and appreciated. 

Zoro nestled into the crook of Terra’s neck, gripping the bit of Arashi’s arm that he could, soothing himself by thumbing over the material of the shirt. 

“Your paths are meant to cross again, my love.” Terra whispered, feeling soft tears wet her dress, matching the ones creeping down her face. “This is not your end. You'll see him again soon.” She squeezed her little one to her, wrapping him in the promise.