Chapter Text
The first thing Zoro noticed was the sunlight.
It was warm and gentle as it spilled across his face. The second thing was the bright, unrestrained laughter that carried on the wind. He opened his eye slowly, expecting the quiet of Baratie’s worn deck, the creak of old wood, the rasp of Zeff’s voice. Instead, he saw the Thousand Sunny.
For a moment he thought he was dreaming. He had left this ship a couple of years ago, left the crew so he could stay with Zeff when the old man’s health began to fail, not that the chef had been thrilled about that. Some days he and Zeff had managed fine, other days they sat in heavy silence, the animosity Zeff held for him unsaid but apparent. Sometimes Zeff gave into the urge to kick his ass and Zoro had let him. Sometimes Zeff spit venom at the man who had killed his son, regardless of circumstance, and Zoro took it because he deserved it for not trying to save Sanji, for stomping on his heart over and over again only to ultimately drive his sword through it and take his life. But this wasn’t Baratie, this was home.
He lay there on the deck, the planks warm beneath his back, the sky impossibly blue above him. The laughter grew closer until shadows fell across his face. He blinked up to see Luffy grinning down at him with Usopp beside him, both of them looking older than the versions he had just left behind but still unmistakably themselves.
“Zoro fell out of the sky!” Luffy announced, as if it were the funniest thing in the world.
“Should we get Chopper or Kaya? Maybe one of them should check him out,” Usopp suggested.
Zoro frowned, pushing himself up on his elbows. Kaya? Usopp had left the crew years ago after Luffy became Pirate King to settle in Syrup Village with her. Yet here Usopp was, standing beside Luffy, looking like he hadn’t missed a single adventure. Zoro sat up fully, his swords beside him. He glanced down, three swords. He reached down for Wado and hesitantly unsheathed it. His breath caught as he saw his most prized sword was not broken as he knew it to be but perfectly polished and maintained.
More laughter echoed across the ship. He turned his head and saw two long-nosed children running across the deck, their voices high and joyous as they called out.
“Is Uncle Zoro okay, Daddy?” The girl asked.
“Yeah Merry, don’t worry. You know how your uncles are,” Usopp assured.
“Uncle Zoro fell from the sky like a bird,” the boy piped up.
“Yeah, it was real funny. How’d you get way up there, Zoro,” Luffy added, laughing boisterously.
Zoro’s breath caught. He didn’t move or speak. He found himself caught in the impossible sight of Wado unbroken, Usopp and his children on the Sunny and the ship alive in ways he hadn’t seen in years.
Franky’s laugh rumbled from the garden as Robin leaned into him, her fingers tracing idle patterns across his arm. Zoro blinked at the sight. In his timeline, Robin was always a shadow at the edges, her smile tinged with melancholy and her companionship quiet but solitary. Here, she was radiant and her laughter was unguarded. Zoro’s chest tightened. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed seeing her happy.
Brook’s violin carried across the air, but the tune was jaunty and playful, a melody that called people to dance rather than to mourn. Zoro remembered the years after Sanji’s death when Brook’s music had been nothing but elegies. Now the sound was light and buoyant as if the grief had been replaced by joy. There was a deep rumbling off the side of the ship and Luffy gave a loud cheer.
“Hey Laboon! You’re back! Let’s dance, keep playing Brook!”
He could hear Brook’s distinctive laughter as a response before he continued playing. Zoro closed his eye, letting the music wash over him. For a moment, he felt the weight of grief lifting away from him.
Jinbei stood at the helm, steady as ever, but even he was changed. Merry perched happily on his shoulder, giggling as Jinbei pointed out the horizon. Zoro’s lips twitched into an almost smile. Everywhere Zoro looked, there was laughter, sunlight and life. It was surreal and yet it felt like home.
Robin had told him that when he returned to his own timeline, if he survived the trip, the memories of the past would fade leaving him with nothing but the ache of Sanji’s death. But he remembered everything. He remembered the Devil Fruit user’s bargain, the chance to step back into the past. He remembered finding Sanji younger, sadder but alive. He remembered telling him he loved him. He remembered the meals, the quiet moments, the tenderness. He remembered their last night together, the way Sanji had touched him like he was something sacred, the way they had said goodbye with tears and kisses and promises they couldn’t keep.
He hadn’t expected to remember, but he did. If Robin had bent the truth, if she had hidden something from him, then maybe it was for this. Maybe it was for this gift.
Zoro’s steps slowed as he neared the galley. His hand hovered over the doorframe, trembling. He could hear the faint clatter of pans, the hiss of oil, the scent of garlic and ginger curling through the air. His throat tightened. He didn’t know if he could take the heartbreak if Sanji wasn’t there, but he needed to know, he needed to see. He pushed the door open.
The door creaked as Zoro pushed it open, the familiar scent of garlic and ginger rushing out to meet him. For a heartbeat he couldn’t move or breathe. The galley was warm, lantern light spilling across polished counters, the hiss of oil in a pan filling the silence. It was ordinary, achingly ordinary, and yet it felt like the most extraordinary thing he had ever seen because Sanji was there.
He was older than Zoro had ever seen him, older than he had ever even imagined him. His blond hair had grown long, wavy and brushed his shoulders. A beard framed his jaw, short and neat but fuller than the goatee Zoro remembered. He wore a burgundy button-up with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, no tie, no jacket, chest open to the air. When he turned, the light caught on something that made Zoro’s breath stutter. Sanji was wearing one of Zoro’s earrings in his left ear. Zoro absently tugged on his own ear, only now realizing he only had two.
Sanji scowled when he saw him.
“You just gonna stand there letting all the good air out, dumbass?”
Zoro stared at him for a moment longer before he moved. He didn’t think or hesitate. His hands found Sanji’s face and pulled him in, pressing his lips to the cook’s and kissing him breathless. Sanji froze for a moment before he returned the kiss. Zoro shuddered and leaned into the other man’s smaller body, absently noticing he wasn’t as small as the past Sanji was. The blond was taller now, broader. Zoro hadn’t expected that, hadn’t expected the way it felt to hold him in his arms like this. He pulled Sanji closer, wrapping his arms around him so their bodies were flush against one another. Sanji made a small noise of pleasure as he gave as good as he got, his fingers clutching Zoro’s hair. Zoro felt something burning in his chest and he didn’t realize he had tears streamed down his face until Sanji pulled back, staring at him with concern.
“What happened, Moss? Is everything alright?” Sanji asked, glancing toward the deck as if expecting trouble.
“Yes, I just… I missed you,” Zoro rasped, voice breaking.
Sanji raised a dubious eyebrow.
“I’ve been in here the whole time. You hit your head or something?”
Zoro didn’t answer. He pulled Sanji into his arms, holding him tight, burying his face against his shoulder.
“Oi, mosshead, you’re shaking. What the hell happened,” Sanji murmured, voice low, almost cautious.
Zoro swallowed hard, forcing himself to loosen his grip just enough to look at him through his teary eye.
“I thought I lost you. I thought… I thought I’d never get this again,” he explained, his voice raspy with emotion.
Sanji blinked, taken aback. He tilted his head, studying Zoro’s face as if trying to read the truth in the lines etched there.
“You’re talking like I’ve been gone. I’ve been here, idiot. Cooking, same as always.”
Zoro shook his head, the words catching in his throat.
“Not always. Not in my time. You were—”
He stopped himself, biting down on the memory of his grief, days without Sanji, years of silence, loneliness and regret. He had had to travel back in time to have this, even just for a short time, but now Sanji was standing here, alive, older, warm and scowling at him like nothing had changed.
Sanji’s scowl softened, his eyes narrowing with something closer to worry.
“You hit your head, didn’t you? Fell asleep in the sun too long? You’re crying, for god’s sake. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Zoro huffed, half a laugh, half a sob.
“Doesn’t matter. What matters is you’re here with me and I’m not letting go.”
For a long moment, Sanji didn’t reply. He stood there, letting Zoro hold him, the pots simmering behind them as Brook’s violin drifted in from the deck along with Laboon’s happy noises and Luffy and the kids’ laughter. Sanji sighed after a while and held Zoro back, one arm wrapped around his back and the other tangled in his hair.
“You’re a mess,” he muttered against the other man’s neck, reaching up to press a kiss just beneath his ear where he knew Zoro was sensitive. The swordsman shivered at the touch and held Sanji tighter in response.
“I don’t care. I’ve been given something I didn’t think I’d ever have again. I’m not wasting it.”
Sanji raised an eyebrow, skeptical but curious.
“And what exactly do you think you’ve been given?”
Zoro’s lips pressed into a thin line before he answered, steady and certain.
“You. Us. A second chance to show you how much I love you for as long as I live.”
The words hung between them. Sanji’s breath caught as he pulled away, staring at Zoro with assessing eyes.
“What the hell happened in the hour I’ve been away from you,” Sanji said quietly, almost disbelieving.
Zoro didn’t answer. He just stared at Sanji, his eyes filled with hope and longing. Sanji exhaled, a shaky laugh escaping him as he shook his head.
“You’re insane. But… maybe that’s what I’ve always liked about you.”
“Liked about me?”
“You fishing for something, Moss?”
“Maybe.”
“Couldn’t imagine what.”
Zoro’s lips twisted and Sanji let out a chuckle that made his heart ache.
“Alright, alright, stop pouting already.”
“M’not pouting.”
“Uh-huh,” Sanji replied dubiously, leaning up to press his lips to Zoro’s. It was similar to past Sanji and not at the same time. With past Sanji, there was always a mutual air of desperation to their kisses, both of them yearning for something only the other could give. This Sanji kissed like the action was a familiar one, something that they did all the time, something that he was settled into, secure in but still passionate about.
“I love you,” Sanji whispered against his mouth.
Zoro’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smile breaking through the tears. He leaned in again, pressing his forehead against Sanji’s.
“I love you too. And I’ll prove it to you, every day. I’ll earn this.”
Sanji didn’t answer right away. He closed his eyes, letting the silence stretch, letting the weight of Zoro’s words settle. Outside, the crew’s laughter carried across the deck, the sound of the children playing and the violin’s jaunty tune. Sanji’s hand slid up to cup the back of Zoro’s neck, his thumb brushing against damp skin.
“Alright, mosshead,” he whispered.
Zoro held Sanji closer, his forehead pressed against the cook’s, his breath steadying as the tremors in his chest began to ease. For the first time in years, he felt whole. He’d thought that was what he felt when he went to the past, and it was undoubtedly a feeling of closure he’d always cherish, but this was different. Not because the past had been erased, but because he had been given something he never thought possible: a chance to begin again and live his life with the man he loved.
Zoro closed his eye, letting that thought settle deep in his chest. He didn’t know how he had ended up with this gift, this impossible second chance, but he knew one thing with absolute certainty: he wasn’t about to waste it. He wasn’t going to let Sanji slip away again. Not now, not ever.