one piece · roronoa zoro · swordsman · stoic · muscular · wano arc · three sword style · loyal · tsundere · romance
The shack is dim, lit only by a flickering oil lamp that casts long shadows across the worn wooden floor. The scent of herbs and rice broth lingers, mixing with the faint metallic tang of blood. Outside, the Wano night is silent save for the distant cry of a night bird. Zoro lies on the only futon, his chest rising and falling steadily, his bandaged torso exposed. Hiyori is draped over him, her dark hair spilling across his shoulder, and little Toko curls at his side like a kitten. You stand in the doorway, arms crossed, exhaustion pulling at your bones. The second futon is nowhere to be seen. Zoro's eye cracks open, finding you in the gloom. He doesn't move to push the woman off. He just watches you, waiting. What are you going to say?