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Fresh Earth.
A pot you bought at the last port.
A space on the kitchen window.
A seed from the first tangerine you harvested.
You consciously release the breath you were holding as you watch the seed disappear underneath your fingers into the earth. Your fingertips linger on the surface of the pot. The moment feels significant, heavy and light at once with a feeling, no, a truth you have slowly been breathing in and out of your lungs for the better part of the last months.
Your shoulders are shaking, tears in your eyes as you carefully water the seed. The key is not to overdo it. You want to gently fan the flames of the seed’s life force, gently encourage this new beginning, not drown its will to live.
Doing this feels like a sacrament, like a holy ritual you forgot you were capable of, forgot you were allowed to participate in.
"What are you doing?"
His quiet voice carries through the kitchen, wrapping around your bubble of sacred nostalgia without shattering it.
You huff a smile and blink away the tears before you turn around.
"Planting a tangerine tree."
A raised eyebrow.
"Bell-mère used to do it with us when we were younger. Nojiko was much more patient with it than me, but I decided to give it a chance today. I have learned a thing or two about patience in the last few years."
Your throat tightens again.
You forcefully press your nails into your palm, your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Your blurry vision clears enough that you can see the lines on his shirt again.
There is softness on his face as he nods before slowly turning around as Luffy loudly calls his name.
He leaves you to bathe in your sacred moment in peace.
~
You forgot.
The first tangerine seed you planted in years and the moment you leave the ship, caught up in excitement and intoxicating freedom, you forgot to water it. For three days.
You want to claw your eyes out.
Your boots almost screech to a halt in the kitchen, miraculously devoid of anyone but Zoro who sits on a chair, quietly looking after his swords.
You ignore him, he will not ask any funny questions and you have to go, you have to see . Your feet eat up the ground beneath your feet in three quick strides, your hand stretching out to feel for the -
There is water on the earth.
Well, not exactly water, that wouldn't be good. But the earth is definitely moist, and the pot looks well taken care of. No dry earth around the edges.
Your hands shake as your fingertips caress the earth, incredulity and relief rising and falling through your rib cage with every hectic breath your lungs take.
The clearing of a throat.
"I - … well, you were busy. And I thought - - I didn't mean to meddle. Just thought it might … yeah."
You can feel your brain cells jumping left and right to catch the words he is not saying. But he doesn't need to say them, you have always been a smart one.
Still shaking from head to toe, you sink to the ground, your back against one of Sanji's precious kitchen cupboards.
He took care of it.
Zoro watered your tangerine seed.
"Thank you."
It comes out much raspier than you would like, but it can't be helped.
He smiles his small smile and turns back to his swords.
You close your eyes. And breathe in and out.
In and out.
In and out.
~
"NAMI! NAMI-IIIII!"
Your heart thunders in your chest as you sprint towards the kitchen, your staff ready in your hand, anxiety and anger clawing at the edges of your vision.
What could possibly have happened that caused Luffy to scream this way?
You run faster.
"NAMI!!"
"I'm here, I'm here , what on earth is happen -"
The kitchen door slams behind you, your feet almost furrowing the ground in a desperate effort not to crash into the entire crew gathered in the kitchen in a circle.
What the fuck?!
"Luffy, I swear, get your tongue working this instance and tell me or I will do things to you even Axe Hand Morgan would weep over."
Luffy's smile is so bright it lights up the entire room.
A part of you immediately regrets the words you just uttered. The other three parts angrily grind your teeth together.
"Look, Nami, look !"
Every face in the kitchen turns to you as Usopp clumsily circles on the spot, holding your pot. He is quivering with excitement.
Anger paints streaks of red onto your vision, how dare they -
"Come on, take a look."
He has barely raised his voice, but it's loud enough to worm through the agitation in your brain.
"If you drop it, I will kill you."
Usopp swallows. His hands grip the pot harder as you lean over, taking a closer look.
"Do you see it??"
Luffy is practically vibrating through the planks.
"There are leaves, Nami. Two of them! Two leaves!!"
And indeed there they are. Two bright green leaves on a slender stem, stretching, stretching, unraveling towards the sun.
They are beautiful.
An unknown feeling balloons in your chest, swallowing your anger and apprehension, pressing onto the backs of your eyes.
"Two leaves as beautiful and delicate as our very own ship beauty Nami-san."
Your startled laugh pops the balloon.
Your jaw unclenches.
Your four idiots stare back at you, four different mixtures of joy and apprehension in four different bodies. What a weird group of brothers they are.
And Luffy has always been the bravest of them all.
The table sways precariously below his feet as he dares to jump on it, his hat dancing through the air.
"We have a new crew member!! Nami has a baby!!"
You don't even have it in you to prod him with your staff.
Laughter with your family is one of your favorite things, after all.
~
The night is slowly covering the world in black silks, a few stars twinkling through the deep blue of the ocean in the sky.
You lean back and revel in the feeling that you get to sit here and do this.
Watch the world happen.
Watch nature do its thing.
No planning the next move.
No fear ripping your heart out with its bare hands.
No nightmares sticking to you like slimy shadows.
No pain.
No pain.
Sometimes you wonder how you got so lucky.
"How is your baby doing?"
Two familiar feet followed by two equally familiar legs sit down next to you. The attached torso is so close you can feel the warmth he radiates.
You forbid yourself to blush.
"My baby and I are doing well, thank you very much."
The answering laugh warms your heart.
Companionable silence descends between you.
You let it stretch.
Night time throws around more silk, darkness descending upon you slowly but surely. The tangerine trees behind you rustle in the wind. The baby tree next to you happily sways its three branches.
You take a deep breath and slowly turn your head.
His profile is barely visible against the night sky anymore.
The tangerine trees keep on rustling as you keep on looking, soaking everything in that you can see.
"I like this."
You surprise yourself, almost swallowing your tongue when you realize what you just said.
His eyes find yours, looking back at you.
"I like this too."
You both have to look away, the embarrassment you feel strong enough to make you feel fourteen again, the fourteen you never truly were.
You feel oddly proud.
You have come a long way, you and him, many bitter words and angry fights paving the path beneath your feet.
But you are here. And so is he.
Sometimes you wonder how you got so lucky.
~
There is a knife inside your back.
It's been wedged between the vertebrae of your lumbar spine, stubbornly refusing to leave, stabbing in between your bones with white hot determination, no matter how often you beg for it to stop.
You never knew periods could feel this way.
You can't even remember when the last time was when you had a 'proper' period.
The first time you bled was in Arlong's cellar, scared shitless, desperately trying to stop the bleeding with the few clothes you had; no one could see! no one could know! what was even happening?
Years later one of the women in the many bars you frequented told you what this mysterious bloody thing was that sometimes came and went again. Words like pregnancy and cycle and period stirred up a confused fog in your mind, smearing something dirty and shameful onto your very being, settling under your skin, confirming what you had felt that day in Arlong’s cellar.
You were fifteen and you remember thinking desperately that you didn't have the time for any of this.
And you got lucky. Sometimes you only bled once in four months. Never much, it was barely even there in the first place and it always left you feeling relieved and a little triumphant. Nature would not stop you.
But your luck has ended.
This is the second period you've had in six weeks and someone seemingly wants to punish you for not having bled in such a long time because this is torture.
Usopp nearly had a heart attack the first time you blacked out from the pain. Sanji held back your hair when you vomited the next day, the cramps forcing his potato pallie right back up your esophagus.
None of you knows how to deal with this.
Usopp and Zoro seemed to know about the existence of periods before nature started playing merry hell with your body. Luffy and Sanji had no idea.
That was one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. Explaining something about yourself that even you didn't understand tied your tongue up in knots, your body one bright red spot of mortification and shame. You will be forever grateful to Usopp for ending the conversation with "It happens to women. Once a month. That's the way it is."
Back at night, when your pain cosied up to you, curling up real tight into your pelvic bowl, when you could feel the blood leave your body in waves without any way of stopping it, his words echoed in your mind like a dark prophecy.
(Once a month. That's the way it is)
Would it always be this way? Was this a curse women had to bear, would you never be the same again?
Panic and anger clung to you like desperate guard dogs during those days, making life hell for you and everyone else on the ship.
You cried tears of relief the day the blood flow finally ebbed, the cramps easing their way out of your body.
But now its back, the knife mercilessly turning your body into living hell and you have tried everything and nothing worked. Curled up into the smallest little ball you can manage, you clench your teeth against the next wave rattling through your abdomen, tears and panic in your eyes as you squint up at the silhouette in front of your window, illuminated by the pale moonlight.
There are sixteen leaves on your tangerine tree now. You've counted them so often you could draw each leaf and its position on the branches with your eyes closed.
You try counting them again.
Four leaves on the original stem as you breathe in. Four leaves on three small branches right at the top as you hold your breath. Five leaves on the first main branch that grew and three on the second as you breathe out.
Four leaves as you breathe -
The knife in your back moves a little lower, stabbing with renewed vigor.
Breathing through your teeth, readying yourself for a long night of counting and pain, you almost miss the slight knock on your door.
"Yes?"
You sound like a run-over frog.
Your door opens slowly, and even though you can't see who is entering, you would recognize your crew member's footsteps anywhere. Especially his.
"Hey… Uhm. I brought tea."
Of course he did. Your bunch of loving, clueless idiots has taken turns in watching out for you, an additional watch at night just to make sure you are as okay as you can be.
It makes your stomach churn with guilt for being the burden that you are. It fills your lungs with gratitude so sweet you feel new tears rise up. They surely are determined in their affection.
Zoro places the cup on a chair, sitting down on the floor in front of you.
"How are you feeling?"
You huff.
"I can't breathe . I can't lay down, I can’t stand up, I can’t sit, I - . – - I just - I can't! . . and I keep thinking - I - I keep thinking - ! what if it doesn't stop? What if it - - - "
Sobs crawl up and down your spine, shaking your entire body; the panic back with full force, sitting on your chest, tying iron bands around your lungs, black spots dancing on the edges of your vision, no, no, no, no!!
The world spins, your body a trembling bag of bones and pain and hopelessness and you don't have any energy left to do something about it.
Maybe you should find a way to end this…
Something shifts behind you on your bed, someone tall and solid and warm slotting himself alongside your back.
"Is this okay?"
Is this okay?
Is it?
You struggle to find your voice, the iron bands are too tight, the black spots too many.
Zoro seems to have come to a decision because his arm wraps around your middle, pulling you close, your head lifted gently by his other hand until it rests on the inside of his arm.
His hand intertwines with yours on your stomach, his thumb stroking up and down the back of your hand.
Your body shakes even more violently, like tangerine trees in a hurricane, branches bending and splintering, leaves ripped from their home, roots struggling and losing the battle against the storm, every part of you breaking down.
You can't do this anymore.
It hurts too much and it won't stop and even if it does, it will return, every fucking month, you are cursed.
Zoro doesn't say anything, simply tightening his hold on you as you break into a million tiny pieces.
You hold onto his hand like a lifeline.
And you keep holding.
And holding.
And holding.
Gradually, your body calms down.
Your heart stops hammering against the bones of your ribcage.
Your tear ducts have nothing left to give.
The knife in your back seems to be a little duller.
You try to find your way back out of your brain fog, focusing on the sensations around you.
Zoro is breathing evenly and steadily, his ribs pressing gently against the muscles of your back, every breath a new, calm wave. It is oddly soothing. Just like the stroke of his thumb is oddly hypnotizing.
Time stretches and twists, your face finally dry, your breathing finally a little easier.
Gingerly, you move your body until you are facing Zoro.
He withdraws his arms with care, looking at you with intense focus.
"Thank you."
He smiles slightly.
"So it was okay?"
"Yes."
Yes, it was.
If you weren't in such a miserable state, you would find this situation quite amusing. It's not like him to take initiative like this.
You wonder what it must have cost him.
"More than okay."
His eyes search yours, looking for… you're not really sure for what.
A tendril of tentative happiness worms its way through all the exhaustion in your body.
Zoro is here.
With you.
And he held you.
You shiver.
Maybe….
"Do you want me to go?"
What?!
"No!!"
There is so much more force behind that word than you wanted, embarrassment instantly eating away at your cheeks as the wary look in his eyes is replaced with smugness.
Bastard.
His smugness turns into a wide grin as he sees you struggle with your shame of needing him.
"Keep looking at me like that and I will punch you."
He has the gall to laugh at that. Your right hand feebly lifts into the air.
Zoro catches it and presses a brief kiss onto your knuckles before pulling you close again.
Your heart does a giddy somersault.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Before bouncing off your ribs.
And settling back into its space.
You feel dizzy.
With you on your back and him on his side, his left hand reaches out, stroking lightly through your hair while his right tentatively finds its way back onto your stomach.
Without yours below.
Just his hand spreading warmth over your skin and into your bruised and battered body.
It feels so good you want to melt into the mattress.
"Save your strength for another day, Nami. I'll still be here as your punching bag."
You don't want to, but you have to smile.
Bastard.
"Promise?"
He scoots even closer and you want to keep him here forever. You lay your hand on top of his and press down firmly into the pain.
It is almost obscene how much heat his palm radiates. It pulls the knife out of your vertebrae about an inch.
It doesn't move back.
Relief washes over you in waves, cool, and soft, and safe.
"Promise."
The leaves of your tangerine tree gleam in the moonlight.
The warmth of Zoro's hand on your stomach a steady, reliable anchor for whatever nature throws at you tonight.
The kiss to your hair the last thing you notice as your eyes drift shut, exhaustion finally taking over.
~
"I feel weird. Your baby is watching."
You roll your eyes.
As if your baby could watch. It's a fucking tree.
Annoyance pulls at your jaw muscles as you reach for his shirt. You throw it over the tree. His indignant eyebrow can go fuck itself.
A sliver of pride shoots through you. Your baby has grown enough that even a shirt from a man of Zoro's proportions cannot cover it entirely. Suits him right. Let your baby live a little.
You grimace. That sounded wrong even in your ears.
"Better now?"
The eyebrow twitches.
"That's one of my favorite shirts."
"You want to get up and do something about it?"
You cant your hips forward, pressing your pelvis into his, resuming the quite delightful activity you were pursuing right before his paranoia kicked in.
His forehead finds yours as he presses back and grunts.
"No, I think I'm good."
"Is that so?"
He leans back to look at you, his hand holding your hips firmly in his lap. There is a gleam in his eyes that makes you more nervous than you care to admit.
"I must be doing something wrong if you are still so cocky."
You grin and your nervousness deflates.
Banter is familiar territory, battling for the upper hand, always trying to have the last word - that's one of your favorite activities.
Next to making out with your… . . with Zoro, of course.
"Maybe you are. Need me to say again that you're the best?"
He grins back. He is enjoying this as much as you are.
Your lips meet his briefly but firmly, before his lips make their way over your cheeks, your ears, your neck.
"No. But I need you to tell me what you like, Nami. Tell me what makes you feel good."
Ohhh, Gods.
There it is again.
Your nervousness.
For even though you have done this before - with him!- , even though you know what sex with Zoro feels like, this is different. One passionate, desperate fuck is nice, very nice , but this…
This involves feelings.
Feelings you haven't spoken into being yet.
Feelings that make you dizzy, drunken butterflies playing catch in your chest cavity, tumbling into your pelvis only to shoot up into your skull and cause chaos in your central nervous system.
Feelings that make you daydream about Zoro's hands and his stupidly handsome face, about the way he laughs, the way his arms wrap around your torso, the way his large, soft, warm hands touch your -
"Nami?"
He looks a little puzzled at your silence. His thumbs are stroking the skin on your hips until it feels raw from the tenderness.
You swallow.
"Your hands."
"What about them?"
The puzzled look intensifies. Your butterflies take a free fall from your skull into your feet.
"They make me feel good, idiot."
"My hands?"
"Don't make me say it again."
You roll your hips forward for good measure.
But he is not deterred.
Bastard.
Slowly, with purpose, he lifts his hands from your hips.
His fingers gently stroke down your neck, over your shoulders and shirt straps, over the outsides of your arms, down the inside of your elbows, intertwining with your fingers.
A hiss escapes your throat.
You want him to repeat that motion to the day you die. Nothing has ever felt as good on your body and soul as Roronoa Zoro's hands.
"You like my hands?"
You don't have the strength to mock him when he looks at you so earnestly. So you nod and do what every sane person in your position would do.
You get rid of every last stitch of clothing on your torso, scrambling to pull him on top of you as you lay back down on the bed.
Zoro looks very happy with that development.
"Interesting. Anything in particular about my hands that makes you feel good?"
He is enjoying this far too much.
"Start using them and I'll tell you, how about that?"
"Yes, madam."
You will punch him.
Once he is done caressing your back and breasts, that is.
But you will.
~
"Nami?"
Ohhh.
This is so good.
His cock presses against you just right, the cloth of his underwear providing delicious additional friction.
He feels just like you remember.
"Nami?"
But this time is so much better. No drunken half-truths spoken before you get to it, no undertone of desperation and the feeling of making use of the only chance you might get hovering ominously over your heads.
"Nami, please?"
Crap.
"Fuck, I'm sorry. This just - … this just feels. So good ."
He smirks and pecks you on the nose.
"I know."
Moron.
Your back arches off the bed, your hips pressing back into the mattress, his head falling into the crook of your neck as his hips follow your move.
So. Good.
You can't believe your sodding luck.
"Nami, please. We have to talk."
You wrap him up in as much of you as you can manage, pressing a kiss to his temple.
"Okay, okay, I'm listening. But make it quick, I'm kind of busy here."
He grins.
Pecks your nose again.
Then something washes over his face, painting an almost somber expression on his features.
"Hey."
You press a kiss to his cheek.
"What is that look for?"
His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows.
"Remember when I challenged Mihawk to that duel?"
With one sentence, he manages to pull the plug on the liquid warmth that was just about filling you to the brim. You can feel it leave your body in a rush, leaving icy anxiety in its wake.
Fuck him.
Nothing in this world will make you forget that moment.
He's still expecting an answer.
You nod. You don't trust your voice.
Your skin burns where it touches his scars.
"I have been meaning to apologize. For what I said to you that morning."
He evades eye contact.
An incredulous laugh bubbles up inside you.
"You want to do that now?"
You already knew he was impossible, but you had thought he'd have more sense than bringing this up while you are about to finally, finally have sex. It's not an easy feat to find a time and place for that on a ship that seems to be crowded with noisy, clumsy people the moment you and Zoro so much as look at each other.
"Yes, I want to talk about that now."
It's his turn to look annoyed.
"But why now? Can't it wait?"
"No."
Fine.
Fine.
You loosen your embrace. He props himself up on his elbows, searching your face.
"I … those words I said."
You nod.
You remember those words.
"I shouldn't have said them. I couldn't... . - see . I couldn't see you were truly worried about me. I only heard that you wanted to stop me."
You nod again.
You have thought about that moment often. And he is right, you didn't see each other then.
The icy anxiety inside you melts a little bit.
"I didn't want to be stopped. I wanted to go after Mihawk, wanted to seize the opportunity."
A part of you wants to ask him how much he truly wanted to fight. Or whether Mihawk was the first opportunity to die the honorable death he had been seeking. Maybe even craving.
You bite your tongue to stop the words from pouring out. That's a question for another day.
"I… well, you know how it is. How it was . I had my own thing going on for so long that I … - . Well. I was callous on purpose, I knew it would hurt you."
Again, you have to nod. Luffy taught the two of you many valuable lessons, least of all that friendship can truly conquer everything. That kindness is no weakness.
His unwavering commitment to broken people like you frequently brings tears to your eyes.
"And when you left…"
Here it comes.
You remember that as well.
The anxiety starts boiling in your stomach, dark, ugly, acidic bubbles of it climbing up your throat.
You have to close your eyes.
"If it hadn't been for Luffy, I would have left you to it. I believed you had made your choice voluntarily, willingly, and that choice hadn't been the straw hats."
You can't help but think that you would have agreed with Zoro then. You didn't want to involve more people than you already had. You didn't need more loved ones on your consciousness.
You had made your choice and you had stood by it. You didn't see how this beautiful, fragile dream of a life you had been living with the straw hats could in any way be compatible with the path you had chosen for yourself.
Bell-mère’s sacrifice shined bright and terrible in your memory and you had simply refused to even think about sacrificing one of your friends in the same way.
Your throat is burning now, the skin around your eyes wet and hot.
"I shouldn't have thought that way. I shouldn’t have dismissed you as yet another thief, as one of the many who don’t give a shit. I should have trusted Luffy without question. But I didn't."
His fingertips gently wipe away your tears.
You refuse to open your eyes, pressing your eyelids together even more forcefully. The acid still burns in your throat.
"I am glad Luffy made us go. That he was there for you when I couldn't be. Was too proud to be."
You huff a wet laugh.
You are just as glad that Luffy doesn't give two shits about pride. You wouldn't be here if he did.
"I've been meaning to talk to you about this for a while, but…"
It takes a tremendous effort, but you finally manage to open your eyes.
His face above yours is blurry.
You have to clear your throat twice before your voice is audible again.
"But?"
He angles his head slightly, looking at the tangerine tree at the far side of your room.
His hand idly plays with your hair.
"Well, this… thing… between us? It still feels so new. And good. It feels good to me. But - "
He swallows.
His words are piercing through your skin, agitating your butterflies, reinforcing the nasty bubbles in your stomach.
If it feels good to him, then why is he stopping this?
"I ruined it the first time. Don't want to ruin it a second time."
"Why … . . . Why are you - - why now ?"
His eyes are back on yours. His face is earnest and soft and you want this conversation to be over so badly.
"I … I didn't know what to say before."
His fingertips ghost over your cheekbones.
"But before we do this… I thought you should know."
A beat of silence.
You close your eyes again. Let his words wash over you. Over your butterflies. Over your nasty bubbles.
Time stretches as you breathe in and out, Zoro still hovering over you.
The thing is…
The thing is… you would like to be angry.
You really would.
But you can't.
This thing between the two of you grew like your tangerine tree baby standing in that corner of your room.
Before the straw hats, before Luffy who gave you and Zoro more freedom and dreams than you ever dared imagine… before all that, this thing between you would have been a recipe for disaster.
But you are no longer who you were.
And neither is Zoro.
You are standing on a different foundation like the fresh earth you got for your tree. You took your time this time, not forcing anything, the intimacy between you budding and unfolding slowly like every leaf on your tree.
And the fact that he did tell you, that he just uttered more consecutive words than you ever heard him speak before - it makes you hear something else.
He didn't say it.
But the more you think about it, the clearer you can hear it.
"Come here."
Your arms wrap around his shoulders, but he doesn't budge.
The tension in his shoulders radiates apprehension, the frown between his brows mirrors the tightness in your throat from before.
"Come here, I won't bite."
He huffs and finally caves.
His body lands on yours, his warm, solid form a comforting weight you could get used to.
"I … I think I already knew that you… weren't the driving force behind coming to Arlong Park."
He nods into your shoulder.
"And listening to you just now. .. it hurt a bit, you know?"
His spine stiffens, his arms pressing into the mattress to create some space between the two of you.
"Don't be stupid, stay here."
Your fingertips soothe the tension in his spine away, stroking up and down until he softens again.
"Thank you for telling me… I truly mean that. When I saw how you fought Arlong's people with Sanji - And when I.. . . - when I look at how you have been looking out for me since then… I think I will forgive you for these words. For not wanting to come. For being hurt. You were right, I didn't want any straw hats to come to Arlong Park, but you came anyway. And you fought even though it wasn't your fight. Even though you were injured."
"Of course I did."
You gently lift his head, your palms on his cheeks.
Fuck you, he truly is a gorgeous man.
What a pair of idiots the two of you make.
The thought makes you smile.
"I want this. I want us . With you. Because I care about you too, you know?"
He's still not smiling, but the tension has drained out of his shoulders.
"You do?"
You lift your lips to his, your fingers gliding down his back as you kiss him, your hips moving not so subtly against his.
"Of course I do."
There it is. His smile.
Your butterflies start a party at the base of your pelvis as he smiles; the liquid warmth from before drip-drip -dripping in big, golden bubbles alongside each vertebrae of your spine.
You move your hips again, just to be clear.
Zoro catches on pretty quickly. Smugness doesn't suit him.
But by the Gods, he is good with those hands of his.
The liquid warmth intensifies and spreads, your body trying to absorb every inch of this ridiculous man through your skin, through your -
Impatiently, you tug at his underwear, a lightning bolt of desire shooting from your skull down to your toes as you are finally completely skin to skin. He is almost where you want him to be. You knew he would feel exquisite.
"Are you sure?"
You will punch him.
Instead of an answer, you take him in hand, positioning him just right, enveloping him with your body with one smooth motion of your hips.
You want to cry, it feels so good.
There are not many words spoken between the two of you for a long time.
But you don't mind.
This is wonderful.
And you've got time.