Happy Birthday Zoro!
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece.
During his years as a pirate hunter, Zoro usually spent his birthdays alone. He never opened to anyone about his birthday let alone show off about it. Once he joined the Luffy’s pirate crew all that had changed. Even when the tiny boat only consist himself and Luffy, the captain would rock the boat dangerously as he sang the “Happy Birthday” song loud for all of the fishes in the ocean could hear. As the number of people increased so did the amount of parties. When Sanji joined the crew, birthdays were much colorful and delicious for the foods he served were as gorgeous as any king’s banquet. Sometimes it lasted hours and hours on end until everyone collapsed onto the floor sleeping like the dead.
The only thing missing was the music. During the birthday parties, the only songs played in the background were either Luffy’s “Happy Birthday” or Usopp’s barrage of songs he said once he became the greatest warrior in the world he would produce his own albums. Those songs were not actually friendly to the ears after hearing it every single year on each crew mate’s birthday. When the most important, in Luffy’s opinion, member joined the ship the crew was separated before Brook could pluck a string on his violin. Zoro was kind of disappointed since his birthday was close.
Anyways, here Zoro was at the Kuraigana Island. It was a quiet, peaceful, and dark just like the owner of this castle, Juraquille Mihawk. As the days passed by and his birthday was approaching, the swordsman, so used to the loud noise and the fun he had on the Merry, had the urge to tell him about it.
“Hey,” Zoro started. The three were sitting in the dining room eating breakfast. Zoro sat across from Mihawk and Perona sat either on the left or right of Zoro, depending on her mood. Today she was the right.
Mihawk raised his head from the folded newspaper he was reading, “What is it?”
“I-it’s my birthday today.” He muttered quietly. He didn’t realize how small his voice became.
“Oh really.” His answer was not surprise or a question. The master swordsman belittled the idea and he swapped it easily away with the flick of his hand. Zoro expected the answer but he was heavily disappointed by it. For anyone except the birthday boy, it was a normal day.
To his sudden surprise, the ghost princess leaped up, “Your birthday? Today?” she then hit him across the head with her closed umbrella, “Why didn’t you tell us sooner you idiot!”
Zoro rubbed his hand over his sore spot, “Well we were kind of busy.” He glanced over at Mihawk whom busied himself with his beloved newspaper. His reading glasses hung low on his sharp nose, barely hanging. The swordsman couldn’t agree if he liked him with glasses or not.
Perona swallowed down her meal as fast as she could and whirled out of her seat. Before she disappeared out of the room she tapped Zoro on the shoulder, “Stay where you are birthday boy! I can’t do much since you said it too late but I’ll manage something.” She glanced over at Mihawk, “Hey, can I use that old abandoned ball room?” The master swordsman did not say a word but the ghost princess took it as a yes. She twirled around and left the room with a happy hum trailing behind her.
Zoro felt a bit glad that there was a woman in this lonely island but mainly it was toward this reason. While men would sit around idly and did nothing even if it was someone’s birthday, women would do something to bring up the happy atmosphere. But, it was Perona, the ghost princess who loved anything cute, cuddly and also creepy.
When night fell, the ghost princess called over the two swordsmen to see what she had managed. Zoro expected the dark color choice she used for the table cloths, the silverware, and everything in the already shady and forlorn ballroom. Dozens of ghosts she had conjured floated about and swirled their arms slowly and called it a dance.
Perona brought out an ancient phonograph and some records from a dusty storage the trio discovered a few days back. The music sounded alright but the phonograph seemed to have its problems. It scratched the record like cat’s nails against blackboards, it moaned like the ghouls on Halloween night, and all reverberated over the tall ceilings.
For some people these sounds would scare the bones out of their skin, but Zoro felt this feeling of nostalgic. It wasn’t even close to the bright and spirited atmosphere of the life on the Straw hat Crew’s ship but his heart swelled up just the same. He pulled Mihawk by the arm and entered the ballroom with a smile on his face.
The only flaw to this eccentric party was the food. It took one bite out from a pink and black polka dotted mound of sludge to remind the two that the princess was not the greatest cook. Still, Zoro appreciated her hard work and thanked her with a grin while chewing on what looked and felt like bark but tasted like strawberry.
“Thanks Perona.”
“Humph, if you weren’t such a mute and told me sooner I would have done so much more!” she puffed her cheeks and chastised the swordsman but he had a feeling she resembled a bit of Chopper since she was beaming.
The music went to the next track and the ballroom was filled with the voices from the string instruments mixed with the horrid scratches and ghoulish moans. Perona leaped out of her seat because the volume was high and she rushed over to lower it.
When the volume of the song was down to a sweeter level, Zoro took in the sounds, trying his best to omit the screeching and groans. It was calming but had a faint melancholy air. He suddenly missed his crew mates.
“...We got a new crew member a few days before we got separated,” Zoro said to no one in particular, “He was a musician and he said he could play any song with any instrument. Luffy said he played the piano but I wasn’t awake to hear it.” He lowered his eyes to a black candle fixture on the table, “When I think about it, I think I’m the only one who didn’t hear him play. He was about to perform something with a violin but stuff happened.”
Mihawk was actually listening to Zoro’s soliloquy and set his fork and knife on his empty plate, “You want to hear someone play?” The swordsman even saw through what Zoro wanted just by looking at the wistful eyes.
Zoro glanced up, “Yeah, kind of. Anything actually. Violin, piano...violin.”
The master swordsman frowned at the answer but rose out of his seat, “Let’s see what I can do.” Mihawk slipped out of the room without saying another word. Zoro and Perona exchanged peculiar glances but without uttering a word they waited patiently for him to return.
Minutes later the master swordsman entered with a rectangular black case. The surface was polished, smooth as ice, and Mihawk’s reflection was clearly seen on the case. Zoro and Perona excused themselves and huddled around Mihawk to see what he had brought. He laid the box down on the floor, clicked open the hatches on the side and pulled open the lid. Zoro let out a silent gasp because inside the box, perfectly snug in the dark purple velvet bed, was a violin.
The color of the violin was deeper than the one Brook had. Mihawk told the two to return to their seats as he picked up a tiny block of something he called rosin and smoothed it along the hairs of the bow. The swordsman and the ghost princess did as they were told and sat next to each other, hands on the table and leaning their bodies toward with curious large eyes. Before Perona sat down, she rushed over to turn off the phonograph so the only sounds in the ballroom were only her conjured ghosts giggling in excitement.
Mihawk stood up with the violin and bow in hand. He pushed away the ruffles on his shirt so he could place the violin under his neck.
“I’ll tell you this beforehand,” Mihawk informed, “I am strictly a swordsman, not a violinist.” The two nodded, both wishing Mihawk to hurry up and play. He straightened his posture and positioning the bow on the strings, he glided over to play the first notes.
Zoro never heard a violin live before so when the rich sound spread through the large ballroom his heart pounded. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He nearly melted into the table but he kept his firm, curling his fingers around the black table cloths, and listened as the sound flowed gently like calm rivers when he played a slow peaceful piece. Mihawk was relaxed, his left arm moved smoothly and languidly as if he had played this song many times. When the piece changed in a fast tempo, the music was strong like waves crashing against boulders. He played with careful precision and with elegance, just like how he treated sword fighting.
When the song ended, Zoro let out a breath he didn’t knew he held. He glanced over to Perona who had her head on the table and was dreamingly admiring the music. She looked just as disappointed as he was when the performance ended. The ghosts in the back clapped joyfully and Mihawk gave a slight bow.
The master swordsman turned to Zoro with a grin on his face. Apparently he loved the two’s startling reaction. He held the violin by the neck and looked into the dark eyes, “Do you have any requests?”
Zoro felt his cheeks burn up and he shot his eyes to the floor to think of a different song. He had one in his head before Mihawk started playing but after he heard the music, he felt too embarrassed to request it.
Mihawk smirked, his golden eyes glinting, “I know you have something in mind. Spit it out Roronoa.”
Zoro hesitated and cursed at the master swordsman for his overly keen senses, “...’Happy Birthday.’”
The master swordsman raised an eyebrow at the flushed swordsman who was not returning the eye contact. When he laughed the pigment on Zoro’s face darkened to a bright crimson. The laughter lessening to mere chuckles, Mihawk tucked the instrument under his chin. “’Happy Birthday’ it is.”
The End
During his years as a pirate hunter, Zoro usually spent his birthdays alone. He never opened to anyone about his birthday let alone show off about it. Once he joined the Luffy’s pirate crew all that had changed. Even when the tiny boat only consist himself and Luffy, the captain would rock the boat dangerously as he sang the “Happy Birthday” song loud for all of the fishes in the ocean could hear. As the number of people increased so did the amount of parties. When Sanji joined the crew, birthdays were much colorful and delicious for the foods he served were as gorgeous as any king’s banquet. Sometimes it lasted hours and hours on end until everyone collapsed onto the floor sleeping like the dead.
The only thing missing was the music. During the birthday parties, the only songs played in the background were either Luffy’s “Happy Birthday” or Usopp’s barrage of songs he said once he became the greatest warrior in the world he would produce his own albums. Those songs were not actually friendly to the ears after hearing it every single year on each crew mate’s birthday. When the most important, in Luffy’s opinion, member joined the ship the crew was separated before Brook could pluck a string on his violin. Zoro was kind of disappointed since his birthday was close.
Anyways, here Zoro was at the Kuraigana Island. It was a quiet, peaceful, and dark just like the owner of this castle, Juraquille Mihawk. As the days passed by and his birthday was approaching, the swordsman, so used to the loud noise and the fun he had on the Merry, had the urge to tell him about it.
“Hey,” Zoro started. The three were sitting in the dining room eating breakfast. Zoro sat across from Mihawk and Perona sat either on the left or right of Zoro, depending on her mood. Today she was the right.
Mihawk raised his head from the folded newspaper he was reading, “What is it?”
“I-it’s my birthday today.” He muttered quietly. He didn’t realize how small his voice became.
“Oh really.” His answer was not surprise or a question. The master swordsman belittled the idea and he swapped it easily away with the flick of his hand. Zoro expected the answer but he was heavily disappointed by it. For anyone except the birthday boy, it was a normal day.
To his sudden surprise, the ghost princess leaped up, “Your birthday? Today?” she then hit him across the head with her closed umbrella, “Why didn’t you tell us sooner you idiot!”
Zoro rubbed his hand over his sore spot, “Well we were kind of busy.” He glanced over at Mihawk whom busied himself with his beloved newspaper. His reading glasses hung low on his sharp nose, barely hanging. The swordsman couldn’t agree if he liked him with glasses or not.
Perona swallowed down her meal as fast as she could and whirled out of her seat. Before she disappeared out of the room she tapped Zoro on the shoulder, “Stay where you are birthday boy! I can’t do much since you said it too late but I’ll manage something.” She glanced over at Mihawk, “Hey, can I use that old abandoned ball room?” The master swordsman did not say a word but the ghost princess took it as a yes. She twirled around and left the room with a happy hum trailing behind her.
Zoro felt a bit glad that there was a woman in this lonely island but mainly it was toward this reason. While men would sit around idly and did nothing even if it was someone’s birthday, women would do something to bring up the happy atmosphere. But, it was Perona, the ghost princess who loved anything cute, cuddly and also creepy.
When night fell, the ghost princess called over the two swordsmen to see what she had managed. Zoro expected the dark color choice she used for the table cloths, the silverware, and everything in the already shady and forlorn ballroom. Dozens of ghosts she had conjured floated about and swirled their arms slowly and called it a dance.
Perona brought out an ancient phonograph and some records from a dusty storage the trio discovered a few days back. The music sounded alright but the phonograph seemed to have its problems. It scratched the record like cat’s nails against blackboards, it moaned like the ghouls on Halloween night, and all reverberated over the tall ceilings.
For some people these sounds would scare the bones out of their skin, but Zoro felt this feeling of nostalgic. It wasn’t even close to the bright and spirited atmosphere of the life on the Straw hat Crew’s ship but his heart swelled up just the same. He pulled Mihawk by the arm and entered the ballroom with a smile on his face.
The only flaw to this eccentric party was the food. It took one bite out from a pink and black polka dotted mound of sludge to remind the two that the princess was not the greatest cook. Still, Zoro appreciated her hard work and thanked her with a grin while chewing on what looked and felt like bark but tasted like strawberry.
“Thanks Perona.”
“Humph, if you weren’t such a mute and told me sooner I would have done so much more!” she puffed her cheeks and chastised the swordsman but he had a feeling she resembled a bit of Chopper since she was beaming.
The music went to the next track and the ballroom was filled with the voices from the string instruments mixed with the horrid scratches and ghoulish moans. Perona leaped out of her seat because the volume was high and she rushed over to lower it.
When the volume of the song was down to a sweeter level, Zoro took in the sounds, trying his best to omit the screeching and groans. It was calming but had a faint melancholy air. He suddenly missed his crew mates.
“...We got a new crew member a few days before we got separated,” Zoro said to no one in particular, “He was a musician and he said he could play any song with any instrument. Luffy said he played the piano but I wasn’t awake to hear it.” He lowered his eyes to a black candle fixture on the table, “When I think about it, I think I’m the only one who didn’t hear him play. He was about to perform something with a violin but stuff happened.”
Mihawk was actually listening to Zoro’s soliloquy and set his fork and knife on his empty plate, “You want to hear someone play?” The swordsman even saw through what Zoro wanted just by looking at the wistful eyes.
Zoro glanced up, “Yeah, kind of. Anything actually. Violin, piano...violin.”
The master swordsman frowned at the answer but rose out of his seat, “Let’s see what I can do.” Mihawk slipped out of the room without saying another word. Zoro and Perona exchanged peculiar glances but without uttering a word they waited patiently for him to return.
Minutes later the master swordsman entered with a rectangular black case. The surface was polished, smooth as ice, and Mihawk’s reflection was clearly seen on the case. Zoro and Perona excused themselves and huddled around Mihawk to see what he had brought. He laid the box down on the floor, clicked open the hatches on the side and pulled open the lid. Zoro let out a silent gasp because inside the box, perfectly snug in the dark purple velvet bed, was a violin.
The color of the violin was deeper than the one Brook had. Mihawk told the two to return to their seats as he picked up a tiny block of something he called rosin and smoothed it along the hairs of the bow. The swordsman and the ghost princess did as they were told and sat next to each other, hands on the table and leaning their bodies toward with curious large eyes. Before Perona sat down, she rushed over to turn off the phonograph so the only sounds in the ballroom were only her conjured ghosts giggling in excitement.
Mihawk stood up with the violin and bow in hand. He pushed away the ruffles on his shirt so he could place the violin under his neck.
“I’ll tell you this beforehand,” Mihawk informed, “I am strictly a swordsman, not a violinist.” The two nodded, both wishing Mihawk to hurry up and play. He straightened his posture and positioning the bow on the strings, he glided over to play the first notes.
Zoro never heard a violin live before so when the rich sound spread through the large ballroom his heart pounded. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He nearly melted into the table but he kept his firm, curling his fingers around the black table cloths, and listened as the sound flowed gently like calm rivers when he played a slow peaceful piece. Mihawk was relaxed, his left arm moved smoothly and languidly as if he had played this song many times. When the piece changed in a fast tempo, the music was strong like waves crashing against boulders. He played with careful precision and with elegance, just like how he treated sword fighting.
When the song ended, Zoro let out a breath he didn’t knew he held. He glanced over to Perona who had her head on the table and was dreamingly admiring the music. She looked just as disappointed as he was when the performance ended. The ghosts in the back clapped joyfully and Mihawk gave a slight bow.
The master swordsman turned to Zoro with a grin on his face. Apparently he loved the two’s startling reaction. He held the violin by the neck and looked into the dark eyes, “Do you have any requests?”
Zoro felt his cheeks burn up and he shot his eyes to the floor to think of a different song. He had one in his head before Mihawk started playing but after he heard the music, he felt too embarrassed to request it.
Mihawk smirked, his golden eyes glinting, “I know you have something in mind. Spit it out Roronoa.”
Zoro hesitated and cursed at the master swordsman for his overly keen senses, “...’Happy Birthday.’”
The master swordsman raised an eyebrow at the flushed swordsman who was not returning the eye contact. When he laughed the pigment on Zoro’s face darkened to a bright crimson. The laughter lessening to mere chuckles, Mihawk tucked the instrument under his chin. “’Happy Birthday’ it is.”
The End