(no subject)
Title: These Familiar Streets
Pairing: Zoro X Sanji
Setting: Modern day Kyoto
Rating: M
Chapter: 1
Summary: After almost three years in Tokyo, Sanji now returns to Kyoto to fight in that war again. Problem is, now he also has to face the lover and the life he left behind.
Thanks to: My beta unseen_daydream
Dedication: Today's birthday-child, slowsunrise!!
Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday dear Ku~rks, happy birthday to you!
It's finally here! SlowSunrise's birthday, and with that the very first chapter of 'These Familiar Streets', my very first ZoSan long-runner and own take on Modern Fantasy. I dearly hope you guys will enjoy it, but especially YOU Lion-tan! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
And thank you SecretSnow for being such a cute beta!
"Life is all about timing... the unreachable becomes reachable, the unavailable become available, the unattainable... attainable. Have the patience, wait it out It's all about timing." - Stacey Charter
Chapter 1
Sanji is a man of habit, and he hates it. Well, he doesn't hate his need for nicotine, it makes him look cool and grownup; he doesn't really have any other vices. Nor does he hate all the routines he practices in the kitchen that speed up his efficiency. No, what he hates are these old habits that run so deep, that he walks exactly the same streets he had walked when he had free-time three years ago. Or, rather, two years, five months and 17 days ago. Fuck.
Another habit he hates; the fact that he's been counting every year, every month every day since he'd left for Tokyo. Glancing at the watch on his left wrist, he knows that he could tell the hours and minutes too since he had left with Shinkansen. Cursing, he looks up and around him, taking in the busy street he is walking on and the sight of the soon to be blossoming sakura trees, breathing in the almost warm air deeply to try and forget the shit he's dealt with. He inhales so deeply, that he can almost taste the nikumans and dangos that you could buy in the stores along the way. All around him people are walking by, tourists with their cameras, locals hurrying to get back to work after lunch and a class of children walking by, tended to by a young female teacher. Smiling at her, he can't help but feel happy to be back.
As she smiles back, he almost wants to go up to her and give her a compliment for her efficiency with the kids, for her nice eyes and cute figure. Yet, something holds him back; something from within his chest, as always nowadays. So instead of paying his respect and love to the fair gender, he just keeps walking. Soon his nose recognizes a scent that makes his mouth water. That old man who makes his favorite Yatsuhashi* apparently hasn't stopped working yet.
Striding casually into the store, he takes the cigarette from his lips and crushes it into the asphalt beneath him before he enters. Waiting for his turn in line, he thinks about lighting another one, as he knows the place allows smoking. He chooses not to, as it would ruin the cinnamon flavor of the thin confectionary. He knows they are for souvenirs mostly, but he loves the stuff.
"Yes, what can I… Nonohara-san! What a nice surprise, I haven't seen you in quite a while now." Smiling at the man, the blond didn't point out to him the exact amount of time he had been absent, since that was just too strange a thing to do. And he really doesn't want to be called strange, doesn't need it.
"Yeah, long time no see. Can I have a Yatsuhashi to go, please?"
"Of course! And you don't need to pay for it: this one is one the house." The warm smile he got from the other man made Sanji smile more genuinely, this is a happy memory he won't mind recalling. Not like some of the others memories, ones that make him want to bury his face in his hands.
"Thank you very much." Bowing slightly to placed even more weight behind the words of his gratefulness, he tries not to remember all the times he had stopped by this place with company. He sends a prayer to his Guardian that Soyehawa-san won't ask him about why he's there alone, he doesn't want to, can't, tell anyone about that. The Great Dragon Lord heard the prayer, and he is able to leave without having to answer any curious questions.
Walking slowly down the street, he munches on the sweets just as slowly, savoring the sweet taste. But it still tastes better when you share a package with someone else. Realizing that tears had begun to gather, Sanji blinks hard to try and get rid of the threat his they made, the blond male doesn't see his old friend as he walks past her. She, however, recognizes him.
"Ah, Sanji-san?" The sound of his name makes Sanji turn his head around, only to be granted with the view of an old classmate. Blond hair in two lovely braids and gentle eyes looking at him with surprise, he immediately recalls her beautiful name.
"Conis-san! How are you?" Smiling wide at her as he turns around fully and approaches her, he tries to remember what she had planned to study in the university, to have a safe topic to discuss. But the sight of her made the tears disappear, at least.
"Just fine, thank you. And you? You've been gone for so long, where have you been?" That lovely smile of hers is that of an angel, he thought. But he can't even tell an angel about the reason for his absence, especially not an angel who might still might have contact with people from his past.
"Oh, I'm fine as well." Ignoring her question, he hopes that she won't prod as he began to feel smothered. There is a very good reason to why he had done his best to not get a place near where he used to live. He also has a good reason to hate his habits. "But, dear Conis-san, I need to go now, I've got someone waiting for me." It isn't a lie, he really does have someone waiting, just not the one she's probably thinking of…
"I see… Well, how about we have a cup of tea sometime, to catch up on things?" She smiles a knowing smile and waves as he proceeds down the street.
"Sure thing!" Talking over his shoulder and waving back, he quickly takes out his iPod and puts the earplugs in as soon as he turns around fully, hoping that some music might distract him from the shards of glass in his chest. He not going to see him, no matter how much he wants to. No matter what… Caught up in his thoughts, he didn't pick up on what song had begun to play, before he recognizes the oh-so familiar lyrics.
-more moment, that's all that's needed. Like wounded soldiers in need of hea- Quickly changing the track, he curses as he feels the words cut into his heart and those damn tears gathering in his eyes again. Why the hell hadn't he checked what tracks the CD contained before he bought it? Easy. Since he loves everything by Nickelback, so getting the whole 'Dark Horse'-CD was just natural for him. Sighing in relief as 'Burn it to the ground' starts to play instead. He wipes indiscernible under his eyes and turns left around a corner, hoping that he won't run into anyone else he knew as he collected himself.
His walk through the city continues peacefully, and as he approaches the apartment he is temporarily sharing with a friend, he lights up again and throws the now empty package at some trash bags. Taking a deep breath, he slips into his badass facade as he walks up the stairs. It doesn't matter if Gin is one of his closest friends; he still acts the same way around all of his Brothers and Sisters, following the unwritten law to never show any kind of weakness, not even affection.
He doesn't bother to knock as he hears loud growling coming through the door along with some heavy bass and drums, instead Sanji simply walkes into the small but tidy apartment. You would almost think the guy would live in a pigsty by the way he looks, but the raven-haired man actually puts his dirty clothes in the laundry and does the dishes every second day. Now, if he just could stop listening to music that fucks up his hearing, it would be perfect. Removing his shoes and putting the slippers on his feet instead, the other lowers the volume when he heard Sanji call out to him over the music.
"I'm home."
"Welcome back. Oi, that longnosed pal of yours called earlier, said something about an apartment being vacant now." Gin is sitting at the low table, cleaning of his tonfas with a rag and some polish. Apparently Gin is on duty tonight, if he's getting his weapons ready, since blood is just so much easier to get of smooth, polished metal rather than dirty and grungy.
"He did? Nice." Smiling cockily, Sanji walks over to the refrigerator and takes out a can of juice; he needs something to drink before he calls his friend back.
"You know, I still don't get why you can't just stay here, it's no problem for me." Not for you, but for me… Not voicing his thoughts, the cook takes a gulp of the orange juice before answering.
"Well, I want my own place and that's it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've a call to make." Leaving him in the combined kitchen/living room/Gin's temporary bedroom, he walks into the real bedroom instead to get some privacy. Since Sanji is the guest, his host had given him the privilege of sleeping there. The room isn't exactly big, just four and a half tatami mats big with no bed, but there is futon to sleep on. On the plus side, he gets some privacy, as he closes the door behind him and walks over to where his bag and guitar stand, which is what matters.
Sinking down with his back against the wall, he takes his mobile from his pocket after downing the last of the juice. He flips it open, but his thumb doesn't move on the pads as he chews on the butt of his cig. Instead, he knocks the ash from the burning stick in the can that now stands on the floor and glances at the instrument to his left. It's the only thing except some clothes and other necessities he had brought here from Tokyo, he would call for the rest when he gets an apartment. And if he's lucky, he might get one soon. Lucky being that Usopp had managed to talk to the landlord about Sanji moving in as his neighbor moved out.
Taking another drag of his cancer stick, Sanji thinks about staying here as Gin said he could. But he knows that that wouldn't work out, he's not ready to live with someone yet, especially not another fighter like himself. No, getting himself his own place is the best thing to do. Then, he could relax too, as he wouldn't have to act all badass all the time, nor act the nice guy as he had done in school, once upon a time. He had always worn a fucking mask, only with one person had he ever been able to show both sides of himself…
Grinding his teeth together, he forces those memories of the past into the back of his brain, hitting the number pads on the phone with burning ferocity. He's going to get his own place, gain his freedom and then he would move on. Since no matter how much he wishes for it, he can't change the past, it was lapidary, unchangeable. But as he puts the mobile to his ear, he can't help but to wonder what had happened to the apartment he had left behind three years ago. Or, rather, two years, five months and 17 days ago.
~(TFS)~
"I'm here without you baby, but you're still with me in my dreams and tonight, there's only you and me (yeah)~"
"Please, Yosaku, stop singing! You're ruining it!" The black haired man presses his hands to his ears in an attempt to muffle out his lover's terrible countertenor, with no success whatsoever. For God's sake, it even made the waterbottles rattle where they stood!
"Tc, you're just jealous since you suck at karaoke!"
"No, that's you who does that, you li- *Thud, thud, thud* Fuck, it's him! Quick, turn it off!" Hearing heavy footsteps moving closer and closer to the underground dojo through the corridor, Johnny rushes over and tries to help turn the portable stereo off. But as they both are panicking and four sets of fingers can't get to the right buttons at the same time, Brad Harold kept singing, even as a very long, very sharp blade was pointed at the boombox from behind them, over their shoulders.
"Turn. That. Shit. Off."
"We wiiill, please don't kill uuus, anikiiiii." Whining in unison with tears of despair running down their cheeks, the two men sigh heavily in relief as the blade was removed after they turned the CD-player of. All but collapsing over the box, they watch their captain ignore them as he strides past their half lying forms and go against the wall to kneel before the little altar which hung upon it. Looking on in silence as he pays his respect to the ancestors, the confident footfalls of another warrior approaching makes them turn their heads around.
"What's up Zoro, you didn't sleep well last night?" Almost growling at the joyful tone the other spoke in, the green haired man stands up and faces his ally. Indeed, he'd had the worst night in months and isn't in the mood of joking, he needs a bloody good fight. But it hadn't been an enemy who had tormented him in the dark and busted his mood for the day, no, it had been the memories of long fingers caressing his skin, of a willing body meeting his and that damn voice urging him on. Plus the younger Portgas had burst his door open at 8 o'clock in the morning and demanded food as he jumped on top of a very grumpy and tired Zoro.
Clenching his jaw, he levels a stare toward the freckled man, fighting to not let his temper get the best of him as he answers, "No, I didn't. And you should feed your brother before you leave. Now, where's Saga?" Changing the subject before any of them could come up with the glorious idea of asking him why he didn't sleep well or give him a tip on how to get rid of the nightly problems, he walks over to the side of the room and starts to prepare for the training session.
"Ah, I think he's still at Maya's place. Want me to call him, aniki?" Picking up his mobile from his left front pocket, Johnny begins to dial before he even gets any answer, knowing that it was what he's supposed to do. Sitting next to his partner, Yosaku starts to rock back and forth while sitting cross-legged and gripping at his ankles, boredom kicking in as Saga picks his phone up.
"Ne, aniki, what's your problem with 'Three Doors Down'? It was you who made us listen to them in the first place, after all."
Feeling his body go stiff at the seemingly innocent question, Zoro quickly continues to pull his hoodie off and then proceeded with his t-shirt, hoping that no one had noticed how he had stopped awkwardly in the middle of a motion. "So? I got no problem with them, 'm just tired of the song since you idiots listen to it all the time."
"And that's reason enough to point your sword at them? Real mature, pal." Anger flaring as he hears the chuckling come from his raven-haired friend, he throws the shirt with the rest of his clothes and grabs his swords lying beside the pile. Now he really needs a workout to cool down, or he'll end up destroying something. That 'something' most likely being the nose and ribs of the nearest man.
But before he begins his practice, Johnny gives a 'see-you-later' over the phone and hangs up before saying to those around him. "Saga's on his way, he was on the subway when I called."
"Good." Thankful for the distraction, Lolonoa quickly thinks about his Zen meditation. Deep breaths, take deep breaths and calm down Zoro. You don't want to take it out on them since you don't want them to wonder why. Calming himself, the green haired man closes his eyes and tried to concentrate on his latest match with Mihawk, on what in his Santōryū he could improve as he pulls Wado out of its scabbard.
But the mental sweeping of an enemy's sword is quickly replaced by a leg, the room suddenly fills with the scent of a different brand of tobacco than the one Ace smokes. Groaning and cursing inwardly and feeling the need to bang his head against the nearest wall, he can't understand why he suddenly has such trouble getting that guy out of his head, it's been nearly three years now and the fucker is still invading his mind. Dreams by night, unanswered questions by day, he is never left alone, that bastard is always haunting him.
He's a pain in the ass, even when the guy aint here… Cracking his neck, he takes a deep breath and shoves all those thoughts into the back of his mind, trying to ignore them since he's never gotten any answers anyway. And if there's one thing Lolonoa Zoro hates, it's the feeling of going nowhere.
"By the way, Ace-aniki, will Marco-aniki or Luffy-aniki come?"
"I think Marco will come, he hasn't said that he won't. But Luffy's with a friend today, so we'll have to do without him."
"Hmpf, not a big loss…" Grumbling a little, he puts the white scabbard down before he moves his now bare feet across the wooden floor, feeling the smooth surface, which had been walked upon by hundreds before him. Here, men have trained, bled and advanced toward their goals; to become so strong that they'll be able to defeat the enemies they fought. But no attempt has born fruit thus far, Zoro thinks as he looks at his fellow Brothers, even if the tides has shifted toward their advantage. Still, a good warrior knows never to underestimate an opponent.
"Alright, what'd he do this time? Crashed your place and emptied your fridge or what?"
"Yeah, that's exactly it, don't forget waking me up via screamin' like a monkey and tackling my groin." He didn't really need the unison we-feel-with-you-whine that the others voiced, but at least Ace stopped grinning at him.
"Ok, I'll make sure that we have enough food next time."
"If you ask me, I think he didn't get enough since you ate everything in your fridge. Am I right or am I right?" Suddenly a blond warrior stood beside Ace, clapping on his shoulder.
"But Marco, I can't leave home hungry, can I? It's not my fault he eats twice his own weight every meal."
"So do you."
Ignoring their playful bickering, Zoro proceeds over the floor, glad that the arrival of another Suzaku had taken the focus off him. Stopping in the middle of the dojo, he raises the katana over his head, before letting it fall down in a controlled motion, cutting the very air. He shifted his grip on the white hilt slightly, before repeating the action again; beginning to slide his feet across the floor in an advanced and well practiced pattern. His body follows his every command, flowing with pent up strength as he moves through the kata in deep concentration.
Closing his eyes to sharpen his focus further, he concentrates on the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin, on how he could easily use these motions to cut through flesh and bone, even the enchanted bodies of the Genbu and Shiryuu, he doesn't stop even as the others fall silent. Despite his eyes being closed, he knows that the others now have their eyes locked on him, following his every controlled movement. It's not news to him that three of the four men watching are confirmed gay, and he doesn't have a problem with it as he swings the same way. But the staring made him creep beneath his skin, like there were ants all over him. Even if Zoro seeks to be the best of the best, he has no desire to be watched like an animal at the zoo.
So with the next swing, he breaks the pattern and takes a quick step to the left and fluidly holds the sharp blade of Wadō Ichimonji against Ace's Adam's Apple, almost piercing the skin. Still, the talisman burns him where the other presses it against Zoro's upper arm in defense.
"Are you guys just gonna stand there or are ya gonna do what we came here to do?" The smirk playing across other's lips told him everything he needs to know, so he pulls his katana back as the talisman is removed and he waits for them remove their shirts and socks. One needs to be able to move as well as possible in a fight like this, even if it is simply a spar it is still dangerous.
Zoro doesn't think about the way the freckled man's muscles flowing beneath his skin is reminding him of a blond man, nor how the kick Yosaku tries to land on Marco's head gives him a feeling of déjà vu. He's going to leave that behind once and for all now, he is tired of letting a ghost from his past control his present.
With this in mind, he blocks a sudden punch to his head with his forearm and lets the sensation of battle wash over him, drenching every other wandering thought and desperate dream. After all, everyone always says that he was born to end lives.
-
*Yatsuhashi, a treat special for Kyoto, please use Wiki for more info and a good picture. If I have done wrong in my description, feel free to correct me.
Pairing: Zoro X Sanji
Setting: Modern day Kyoto
Rating: M
Chapter: 1
Summary: After almost three years in Tokyo, Sanji now returns to Kyoto to fight in that war again. Problem is, now he also has to face the lover and the life he left behind.
Thanks to: My beta unseen_daydream
Dedication: Today's birthday-child, slowsunrise!!
Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you~ Happy birthday dear Ku~rks, happy birthday to you!
It's finally here! SlowSunrise's birthday, and with that the very first chapter of 'These Familiar Streets', my very first ZoSan long-runner and own take on Modern Fantasy. I dearly hope you guys will enjoy it, but especially YOU Lion-tan! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
And thank you SecretSnow for being such a cute beta!
"Life is all about timing... the unreachable becomes reachable, the unavailable become available, the unattainable... attainable. Have the patience, wait it out It's all about timing." - Stacey Charter
Chapter 1
Sanji is a man of habit, and he hates it. Well, he doesn't hate his need for nicotine, it makes him look cool and grownup; he doesn't really have any other vices. Nor does he hate all the routines he practices in the kitchen that speed up his efficiency. No, what he hates are these old habits that run so deep, that he walks exactly the same streets he had walked when he had free-time three years ago. Or, rather, two years, five months and 17 days ago. Fuck.
Another habit he hates; the fact that he's been counting every year, every month every day since he'd left for Tokyo. Glancing at the watch on his left wrist, he knows that he could tell the hours and minutes too since he had left with Shinkansen. Cursing, he looks up and around him, taking in the busy street he is walking on and the sight of the soon to be blossoming sakura trees, breathing in the almost warm air deeply to try and forget the shit he's dealt with. He inhales so deeply, that he can almost taste the nikumans and dangos that you could buy in the stores along the way. All around him people are walking by, tourists with their cameras, locals hurrying to get back to work after lunch and a class of children walking by, tended to by a young female teacher. Smiling at her, he can't help but feel happy to be back.
As she smiles back, he almost wants to go up to her and give her a compliment for her efficiency with the kids, for her nice eyes and cute figure. Yet, something holds him back; something from within his chest, as always nowadays. So instead of paying his respect and love to the fair gender, he just keeps walking. Soon his nose recognizes a scent that makes his mouth water. That old man who makes his favorite Yatsuhashi* apparently hasn't stopped working yet.
Striding casually into the store, he takes the cigarette from his lips and crushes it into the asphalt beneath him before he enters. Waiting for his turn in line, he thinks about lighting another one, as he knows the place allows smoking. He chooses not to, as it would ruin the cinnamon flavor of the thin confectionary. He knows they are for souvenirs mostly, but he loves the stuff.
"Yes, what can I… Nonohara-san! What a nice surprise, I haven't seen you in quite a while now." Smiling at the man, the blond didn't point out to him the exact amount of time he had been absent, since that was just too strange a thing to do. And he really doesn't want to be called strange, doesn't need it.
"Yeah, long time no see. Can I have a Yatsuhashi to go, please?"
"Of course! And you don't need to pay for it: this one is one the house." The warm smile he got from the other man made Sanji smile more genuinely, this is a happy memory he won't mind recalling. Not like some of the others memories, ones that make him want to bury his face in his hands.
"Thank you very much." Bowing slightly to placed even more weight behind the words of his gratefulness, he tries not to remember all the times he had stopped by this place with company. He sends a prayer to his Guardian that Soyehawa-san won't ask him about why he's there alone, he doesn't want to, can't, tell anyone about that. The Great Dragon Lord heard the prayer, and he is able to leave without having to answer any curious questions.
Walking slowly down the street, he munches on the sweets just as slowly, savoring the sweet taste. But it still tastes better when you share a package with someone else. Realizing that tears had begun to gather, Sanji blinks hard to try and get rid of the threat his they made, the blond male doesn't see his old friend as he walks past her. She, however, recognizes him.
"Ah, Sanji-san?" The sound of his name makes Sanji turn his head around, only to be granted with the view of an old classmate. Blond hair in two lovely braids and gentle eyes looking at him with surprise, he immediately recalls her beautiful name.
"Conis-san! How are you?" Smiling wide at her as he turns around fully and approaches her, he tries to remember what she had planned to study in the university, to have a safe topic to discuss. But the sight of her made the tears disappear, at least.
"Just fine, thank you. And you? You've been gone for so long, where have you been?" That lovely smile of hers is that of an angel, he thought. But he can't even tell an angel about the reason for his absence, especially not an angel who might still might have contact with people from his past.
"Oh, I'm fine as well." Ignoring her question, he hopes that she won't prod as he began to feel smothered. There is a very good reason to why he had done his best to not get a place near where he used to live. He also has a good reason to hate his habits. "But, dear Conis-san, I need to go now, I've got someone waiting for me." It isn't a lie, he really does have someone waiting, just not the one she's probably thinking of…
"I see… Well, how about we have a cup of tea sometime, to catch up on things?" She smiles a knowing smile and waves as he proceeds down the street.
"Sure thing!" Talking over his shoulder and waving back, he quickly takes out his iPod and puts the earplugs in as soon as he turns around fully, hoping that some music might distract him from the shards of glass in his chest. He not going to see him, no matter how much he wants to. No matter what… Caught up in his thoughts, he didn't pick up on what song had begun to play, before he recognizes the oh-so familiar lyrics.
-more moment, that's all that's needed. Like wounded soldiers in need of hea- Quickly changing the track, he curses as he feels the words cut into his heart and those damn tears gathering in his eyes again. Why the hell hadn't he checked what tracks the CD contained before he bought it? Easy. Since he loves everything by Nickelback, so getting the whole 'Dark Horse'-CD was just natural for him. Sighing in relief as 'Burn it to the ground' starts to play instead. He wipes indiscernible under his eyes and turns left around a corner, hoping that he won't run into anyone else he knew as he collected himself.
His walk through the city continues peacefully, and as he approaches the apartment he is temporarily sharing with a friend, he lights up again and throws the now empty package at some trash bags. Taking a deep breath, he slips into his badass facade as he walks up the stairs. It doesn't matter if Gin is one of his closest friends; he still acts the same way around all of his Brothers and Sisters, following the unwritten law to never show any kind of weakness, not even affection.
He doesn't bother to knock as he hears loud growling coming through the door along with some heavy bass and drums, instead Sanji simply walkes into the small but tidy apartment. You would almost think the guy would live in a pigsty by the way he looks, but the raven-haired man actually puts his dirty clothes in the laundry and does the dishes every second day. Now, if he just could stop listening to music that fucks up his hearing, it would be perfect. Removing his shoes and putting the slippers on his feet instead, the other lowers the volume when he heard Sanji call out to him over the music.
"I'm home."
"Welcome back. Oi, that longnosed pal of yours called earlier, said something about an apartment being vacant now." Gin is sitting at the low table, cleaning of his tonfas with a rag and some polish. Apparently Gin is on duty tonight, if he's getting his weapons ready, since blood is just so much easier to get of smooth, polished metal rather than dirty and grungy.
"He did? Nice." Smiling cockily, Sanji walks over to the refrigerator and takes out a can of juice; he needs something to drink before he calls his friend back.
"You know, I still don't get why you can't just stay here, it's no problem for me." Not for you, but for me… Not voicing his thoughts, the cook takes a gulp of the orange juice before answering.
"Well, I want my own place and that's it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've a call to make." Leaving him in the combined kitchen/living room/Gin's temporary bedroom, he walks into the real bedroom instead to get some privacy. Since Sanji is the guest, his host had given him the privilege of sleeping there. The room isn't exactly big, just four and a half tatami mats big with no bed, but there is futon to sleep on. On the plus side, he gets some privacy, as he closes the door behind him and walks over to where his bag and guitar stand, which is what matters.
Sinking down with his back against the wall, he takes his mobile from his pocket after downing the last of the juice. He flips it open, but his thumb doesn't move on the pads as he chews on the butt of his cig. Instead, he knocks the ash from the burning stick in the can that now stands on the floor and glances at the instrument to his left. It's the only thing except some clothes and other necessities he had brought here from Tokyo, he would call for the rest when he gets an apartment. And if he's lucky, he might get one soon. Lucky being that Usopp had managed to talk to the landlord about Sanji moving in as his neighbor moved out.
Taking another drag of his cancer stick, Sanji thinks about staying here as Gin said he could. But he knows that that wouldn't work out, he's not ready to live with someone yet, especially not another fighter like himself. No, getting himself his own place is the best thing to do. Then, he could relax too, as he wouldn't have to act all badass all the time, nor act the nice guy as he had done in school, once upon a time. He had always worn a fucking mask, only with one person had he ever been able to show both sides of himself…
Grinding his teeth together, he forces those memories of the past into the back of his brain, hitting the number pads on the phone with burning ferocity. He's going to get his own place, gain his freedom and then he would move on. Since no matter how much he wishes for it, he can't change the past, it was lapidary, unchangeable. But as he puts the mobile to his ear, he can't help but to wonder what had happened to the apartment he had left behind three years ago. Or, rather, two years, five months and 17 days ago.
~(TFS)~
"I'm here without you baby, but you're still with me in my dreams and tonight, there's only you and me (yeah)~"
"Please, Yosaku, stop singing! You're ruining it!" The black haired man presses his hands to his ears in an attempt to muffle out his lover's terrible countertenor, with no success whatsoever. For God's sake, it even made the waterbottles rattle where they stood!
"Tc, you're just jealous since you suck at karaoke!"
"No, that's you who does that, you li- *Thud, thud, thud* Fuck, it's him! Quick, turn it off!" Hearing heavy footsteps moving closer and closer to the underground dojo through the corridor, Johnny rushes over and tries to help turn the portable stereo off. But as they both are panicking and four sets of fingers can't get to the right buttons at the same time, Brad Harold kept singing, even as a very long, very sharp blade was pointed at the boombox from behind them, over their shoulders.
"Turn. That. Shit. Off."
"We wiiill, please don't kill uuus, anikiiiii." Whining in unison with tears of despair running down their cheeks, the two men sigh heavily in relief as the blade was removed after they turned the CD-player of. All but collapsing over the box, they watch their captain ignore them as he strides past their half lying forms and go against the wall to kneel before the little altar which hung upon it. Looking on in silence as he pays his respect to the ancestors, the confident footfalls of another warrior approaching makes them turn their heads around.
"What's up Zoro, you didn't sleep well last night?" Almost growling at the joyful tone the other spoke in, the green haired man stands up and faces his ally. Indeed, he'd had the worst night in months and isn't in the mood of joking, he needs a bloody good fight. But it hadn't been an enemy who had tormented him in the dark and busted his mood for the day, no, it had been the memories of long fingers caressing his skin, of a willing body meeting his and that damn voice urging him on. Plus the younger Portgas had burst his door open at 8 o'clock in the morning and demanded food as he jumped on top of a very grumpy and tired Zoro.
Clenching his jaw, he levels a stare toward the freckled man, fighting to not let his temper get the best of him as he answers, "No, I didn't. And you should feed your brother before you leave. Now, where's Saga?" Changing the subject before any of them could come up with the glorious idea of asking him why he didn't sleep well or give him a tip on how to get rid of the nightly problems, he walks over to the side of the room and starts to prepare for the training session.
"Ah, I think he's still at Maya's place. Want me to call him, aniki?" Picking up his mobile from his left front pocket, Johnny begins to dial before he even gets any answer, knowing that it was what he's supposed to do. Sitting next to his partner, Yosaku starts to rock back and forth while sitting cross-legged and gripping at his ankles, boredom kicking in as Saga picks his phone up.
"Ne, aniki, what's your problem with 'Three Doors Down'? It was you who made us listen to them in the first place, after all."
Feeling his body go stiff at the seemingly innocent question, Zoro quickly continues to pull his hoodie off and then proceeded with his t-shirt, hoping that no one had noticed how he had stopped awkwardly in the middle of a motion. "So? I got no problem with them, 'm just tired of the song since you idiots listen to it all the time."
"And that's reason enough to point your sword at them? Real mature, pal." Anger flaring as he hears the chuckling come from his raven-haired friend, he throws the shirt with the rest of his clothes and grabs his swords lying beside the pile. Now he really needs a workout to cool down, or he'll end up destroying something. That 'something' most likely being the nose and ribs of the nearest man.
But before he begins his practice, Johnny gives a 'see-you-later' over the phone and hangs up before saying to those around him. "Saga's on his way, he was on the subway when I called."
"Good." Thankful for the distraction, Lolonoa quickly thinks about his Zen meditation. Deep breaths, take deep breaths and calm down Zoro. You don't want to take it out on them since you don't want them to wonder why. Calming himself, the green haired man closes his eyes and tried to concentrate on his latest match with Mihawk, on what in his Santōryū he could improve as he pulls Wado out of its scabbard.
But the mental sweeping of an enemy's sword is quickly replaced by a leg, the room suddenly fills with the scent of a different brand of tobacco than the one Ace smokes. Groaning and cursing inwardly and feeling the need to bang his head against the nearest wall, he can't understand why he suddenly has such trouble getting that guy out of his head, it's been nearly three years now and the fucker is still invading his mind. Dreams by night, unanswered questions by day, he is never left alone, that bastard is always haunting him.
He's a pain in the ass, even when the guy aint here… Cracking his neck, he takes a deep breath and shoves all those thoughts into the back of his mind, trying to ignore them since he's never gotten any answers anyway. And if there's one thing Lolonoa Zoro hates, it's the feeling of going nowhere.
"By the way, Ace-aniki, will Marco-aniki or Luffy-aniki come?"
"I think Marco will come, he hasn't said that he won't. But Luffy's with a friend today, so we'll have to do without him."
"Hmpf, not a big loss…" Grumbling a little, he puts the white scabbard down before he moves his now bare feet across the wooden floor, feeling the smooth surface, which had been walked upon by hundreds before him. Here, men have trained, bled and advanced toward their goals; to become so strong that they'll be able to defeat the enemies they fought. But no attempt has born fruit thus far, Zoro thinks as he looks at his fellow Brothers, even if the tides has shifted toward their advantage. Still, a good warrior knows never to underestimate an opponent.
"Alright, what'd he do this time? Crashed your place and emptied your fridge or what?"
"Yeah, that's exactly it, don't forget waking me up via screamin' like a monkey and tackling my groin." He didn't really need the unison we-feel-with-you-whine that the others voiced, but at least Ace stopped grinning at him.
"Ok, I'll make sure that we have enough food next time."
"If you ask me, I think he didn't get enough since you ate everything in your fridge. Am I right or am I right?" Suddenly a blond warrior stood beside Ace, clapping on his shoulder.
"But Marco, I can't leave home hungry, can I? It's not my fault he eats twice his own weight every meal."
"So do you."
Ignoring their playful bickering, Zoro proceeds over the floor, glad that the arrival of another Suzaku had taken the focus off him. Stopping in the middle of the dojo, he raises the katana over his head, before letting it fall down in a controlled motion, cutting the very air. He shifted his grip on the white hilt slightly, before repeating the action again; beginning to slide his feet across the floor in an advanced and well practiced pattern. His body follows his every command, flowing with pent up strength as he moves through the kata in deep concentration.
Closing his eyes to sharpen his focus further, he concentrates on the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin, on how he could easily use these motions to cut through flesh and bone, even the enchanted bodies of the Genbu and Shiryuu, he doesn't stop even as the others fall silent. Despite his eyes being closed, he knows that the others now have their eyes locked on him, following his every controlled movement. It's not news to him that three of the four men watching are confirmed gay, and he doesn't have a problem with it as he swings the same way. But the staring made him creep beneath his skin, like there were ants all over him. Even if Zoro seeks to be the best of the best, he has no desire to be watched like an animal at the zoo.
So with the next swing, he breaks the pattern and takes a quick step to the left and fluidly holds the sharp blade of Wadō Ichimonji against Ace's Adam's Apple, almost piercing the skin. Still, the talisman burns him where the other presses it against Zoro's upper arm in defense.
"Are you guys just gonna stand there or are ya gonna do what we came here to do?" The smirk playing across other's lips told him everything he needs to know, so he pulls his katana back as the talisman is removed and he waits for them remove their shirts and socks. One needs to be able to move as well as possible in a fight like this, even if it is simply a spar it is still dangerous.
Zoro doesn't think about the way the freckled man's muscles flowing beneath his skin is reminding him of a blond man, nor how the kick Yosaku tries to land on Marco's head gives him a feeling of déjà vu. He's going to leave that behind once and for all now, he is tired of letting a ghost from his past control his present.
With this in mind, he blocks a sudden punch to his head with his forearm and lets the sensation of battle wash over him, drenching every other wandering thought and desperate dream. After all, everyone always says that he was born to end lives.
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*Yatsuhashi, a treat special for Kyoto, please use Wiki for more info and a good picture. If I have done wrong in my description, feel free to correct me.