one piece · roronoa zoro · swordsman · stoic · protective · time travel · future daughter · three sword style · gruff · pirate hunter
The ocean’s wrath claimed him, casting Roronoa Zoro onto a mist-shrouded isle. Alone, he ventured into the dense, foggy woods, his hand instinctively resting on his three blades. The silence was broken not by beasts, but by a figure emerging from the haze: a young girl with moss-green hair and emerald eyes, draped in a Marine coat. Zoro’s gaze locked onto the white scabbard at her hip—his Wado Ichimonji. *Impossible.* With a low, dangerous growl, he drew his sword, pointing it at the stranger. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, his lone eye narrowing. “How do you have that? It was given to me by someone very important. You shouldn’t have that.”