Archive of Our Own

She has no idea how long she’s been down here, trapped in the hold of a marine ship, locked up in a cage like an animal. The passage of time feels different when she can’t see the sun, even though that’s never been something she’s longed for before.

Shivering, she tucks herself more firmly into the corner of her cell, trying without success to keep warm. They’d taken her boots from her after she’d landed one too many jabs into sensitive flesh with her towering heels, and now her bare feet only serve to make the situation worse.

Albeit not as worse as some. Her shifting around has once again drawn her attention to the sea prism collar that lies wrapped around her throat, and she hisses at the burning reminder that’s keeping her from being unable to unleash her powers on her captors.

Or her fellow prisoners, she thinks with a frustrated snort. Able to feel eyes on her, she turns to glare at the other cell, this one containing half a dozen men who’d been picked up on raids of other pirate ships. None of them possessed bounties big enough for her to recognize them - she’s the undisputed cream of this particular crop - but they’re all headed for the same place, Impel Down.

She shudders at the thought. Stories of the Navy’s vaunted prison have gotten no less intimidating in the years since Monkey D. Luffy had staged a one man raid on the place, and she’s not stupid enough to believe that anyone would ever consider taking such a risk on her behalf. Days of that kind of naivety are long behind her. She’s going to rot, she knows, even more than she already is in the bowels of this ship.

A forlorn sob threatens to claw its way out of her throat, and she presses her lips together tightly to keep it from succeeding. In many respects, she’s been on her own since she was a child, and she’s managed to survive everything life’s thrown at her to date. Therefore, she’ll either survive this, or at least go down with her head held high.

She drifts fitfully for the next several hours, or maybe even days. As she’s already said, time feels like it’s lost all meaning, and it’s not as if anyone is keeping her up to date on how soon they’ll be reaching their intended destination. She has nothing to go on but the feeling of dread in her stomach that seems to get worse every time she thinks about it.

At first she thinks she imagines the screams, or that she’s dreaming and having another nightmare. Then she notices the way the pirates in the other cell can hear them too, and sits up a little straighter. 

It’s not just screaming, she realizes after she’s spent a few moments with her head cocked to the side, listening intently. There’s cannon fire as well, coming from the marine ship, apparently aiming at something off the starboard side.

“Looks like we might have to make room for more company,” one of the other pirates mutters. He glances sideways towards her and smirks unpleasantly. “Maybe you’ll finally have to share.”

She ignores his resulting leer with practiced ease, having already heard far worse during her sojourn down here. Truth be told, she’s much more interested in the way the screaming seems to be getting louder, almost as if the marines’ ship has been boarded.

“You don’t think they’re actually losing , do you?” Another voice speculates, and several others immediately start jeering at it, calling it pathetic for getting its hopes up.

“Even if they are, what good’s that gonna do us?” The initial speaker wants to know. “Whoever it is is likely to just take off and leave us here, wanting to save their own skin.”

His remark is met with a series of murmured agreements at first, followed by a bunch of alarmed bleating when the door leading down to the hold isn’t so much opened as it is torn off its hinges. Choked gurgling noises likewise soon signify the fate met by the guards, and then comes the sound of heavy boot treads as a single person descends the stairs.

It’s not long before a figure with a gleaming sword held in each hand comes into view, and gasps ring out from the assembled prisoners, several of them clearly able to recognize the face that now decorates one of the highest ranking bounty posters on the Grand Line.

For her part, Perona says nothing, but rather watches him approach through the fringe of her hair. It’s turned lank and faded thanks to her time down here, and she suddenly finds herself thinking longingly of a nice, hot shower, hating the fact that anyone should see her like this.

The other prisoners shy back from the bars of their cell as the figure passes, despite the fact that it pays them no mind. Someone whimpers as the swords are raised, but all that happens is both come down on the lock on her cell door, effectively cleaving it into pieces without leaving so much as a scratch anywhere else.

Someone else makes a questioning noise, the sound getting more pointed as the two swords are returned to their sheathes, joining their third sibling in their usual spots. The figure then crouches down in front of her, balancing easily on one knee as it reaches out its hands for the collar around her neck.

“Don’t move,” says a gravelly voice that she refuses to admit to having missed over the past several months. Heavily scarred fingers then trail over the curved metal, seeking points of entry until they can dig in and easily snap the horrible thing away with inhuman strength.

She breathes her first comfortable breath in ages as the pieces fall to the floor. Reaching out with her senses, she feels her hollows whisper back for the first time in weeks, and isn’t quite strong enough to keep herself from flinging her arms around her rescuer’s neck. 

Zoro grunts, likely because she hits him with more force than either of them are expecting, and then returns her surprise with one of his own by wrapping his arms around her and hugging her back. 

“They hurt you?” He murmurs, and she shakes her head.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” She insists, although which of them she’s trying to reassure, she isn’t certain.

Zoro grunts a second time, taking her with him when he moves to stand. Without the advantage provided by her boots, he towers over her smaller frame even more than usual, and his good eye narrows when he notices the discrepancy.

Perona shivers slightly as they stand there, feeling her face heat at the thought of someone seeing her look so weak. Zoro doesn’t say anything, but he does reach for the buttons of his overcoat, easily snapping open the few that are done up, and shrugging the heavy fabric down off his shoulders.

“Here,” he says, settling it around her like a weighted blanket. “You look cold.”

“I’m fine,” she snaps, giving away the lie almost immediately by clutching the trailing ends of the coat and tightening them around herself. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“‘Course,” he agrees, surprising her yet again by looping an arm around her and tucking her up against his side. “Let’s go.”

Speculative murmurs can be heard coming from the still incarcerated pirates, and Zoro pauses outside the second cell door. “They with you?” He asks, his dismissive tone indicating that he already knows the answer.

“No,” she confirms. “But I don’t know that any of them deserve to wind up in Impel Down either.”

Zoro snarls at the prison’s name, and the six other pirates draw back as one when he pulls Kitetsu free from his belt. The blade gleams in the weak lantern light, and then easily severs the lock on the door with a casual flick of the swordsman’s wrist.

“You lot can go or stay,” he tells the assembled men. “Makes no difference to me.”

“R - right,” stutters the group’s unofficial leader. He and the others all eye Zoro warily as they slip past him, breaking for the stairs as soon as they deem themselves to be sufficiently far enough away. 

For their part, Zoro and Perona climb out of the hold at a much more sedate pace. Blinking at the abrupt change in atmosphere, Perona’s surprised to find it’s nighttime, and has to marvel at the sheer amount of chance that must have led to the Strawhats crossing paths with this particular marine ship.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Zoro snorts when she voices this thought aloud. “You’re a big enough name in your own right that it made the papers when you got caught. I told Luffy, and we came to find you.”

“That’s - you didn’t have to do that.” She mumbles, feeling both touched and embarrassed at the same time. “I’m sure I would have figured something out given enough time.”

“We take care of our own.” He replies, and Perona feels her cheeks flush.

“Yeah, well, why don’t you let me return the favor?” She suggests.

Around them the battle still rages on. Dozens of marines, all of them armed to the teeth, are currently swarming the deck, fighting the Strawhats and the escaped pirates alike. None of them appear to have noticed her or her companion yet, but it’s only a matter of time until that changes.

Still wrapped in Zoro’s overcoat, Perona takes a few steps forward, mindful of her bare feet on the battered deck. Once she has enough space, however, she stretches her arms out, snapping her fingers with intent.

“Hello, sweeties.” She croons, smiling dangerously when dozens upon dozens of hollows swarm around her, their numbers greater than usual thanks to how long it’s been since she’s summoned any. “I missed you too.”

“Now then,” she adds, her smile growing until she’s showing far too many teeth for most people to be comfortable with. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”

*****

She sways awkwardly when she first steps aboard the Thousand Sunny , the night’s events having caught up with her and exhaustion setting in. Luckily, Zoro’s right behind her in case she falls, and one of his crewmates is even faster still.

“Careful, darling.” Lashing out with a hand that’s as pale as her own, Blackleg Sanji catches her and helps her safely finish crossing from one ship to the other. “We wouldn’t want you taking a tumble after everything you’ve already been through, now, would we?”

“I’m fine.” Perona insists, snatching her hand back in the face of the unfamiliar touch. Theoretically she knows that she’s safe now, and she’s heard enough stories about this crew to be confident she can trust them, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re all strangers to her, with one notable exception.

“I’ve got her, Cook.” Said exception says now, and Perona’s embarrassed to admit how quickly she settles when Zoro places a comforting hand on her back. “Don’t worry.”

Based on the stories she’s heard about him, Perona’s half expecting Blackleg to continue with his fawning, but instead he eyes her carefully and then gives Zoro a curt nod. “Right, of course. Still, if there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”

“You must be hungry,” he adds, once again speaking directly to Perona. “I can’t imagine those marines were feeding you anything more than slop, and probably not enough of it at that. If there’s anything you’d like, I’m at your disposal.”

“What I’d really like is a shower,” Perona admits. “Not to mention,” she holds up her arms, the motion causing the sleeves of Zoro’s overcoat to comically flop several inches past her fingertips, “some clean clothes that also fit.”

“I’ll show you where the washroom is.” Zoro says, waving Blackleg off and watching the other man with a narrow-eyed gaze until he disappears up a flight of stairs, presumably in the direction of his galley. “You can get cleaned up there, and you and Nani are pretty close in size. I’m sure she’ll let you borrow some stuff.”

“Pity I wouldn’t fit into Nico Robin’s things.” Perona jokes, her eyes cutting over to where the much taller woman is standing next to the Strawhat’s shipwright. “I think her fashion sense is much more my style.”

“Still,” she adds brightly. “I guess beggars can’t be choosers. Lead the way, seaweed brains, but try not to get us lost on our way there.”

Heaving a disgruntled sigh, Zoro makes a show of pointing up ahead of them with the hand that’s not currently resting on her back. “It’s right there,” he says, sounding aggrieved. “You can’t miss it.”

“Maybe I couldn’t,” Perona agrees. “You I’m not so sure of, though. Two years in Mihawk’s castle, and you were still wandering into the wrong bedrooms right up until the day you left.”

“Tch! That place was a maze and literally every room looked the same.” Zoro grumbles, his heavy footsteps ringing out as he tromps along behind her. “Me getting lost all the time was the old bastard’s fault for not being a better decorator.”

“I actually happened to quite like his style,” Perona sniffs haughtily. “You just have no taste.”

“Yeah, yeah, because I never heard that one during the two years we were stuck together.” Zoro reminds her. “Put another record on, why don’t you?”

“I will when you stop making yourself such an easy target.” She replies.

“And on that note, it looks like we’re here.” Zoro says, sounding offensively relieved. Coming to a stop just outside the washroom door, he grips the handle and pulls it open, ushering her in ahead of him.

“Towels and facecloths and stuff are in that closet there.” He says, pointing. “Take whatever you feel like, and same again goes for soap and shampoo. Most of us use different brands, so you can just root around until you find something you like. I’d avoid using Chopper’s, though. His is for fur, not hair.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Perona notes. Wriggling free of Zoro’s overcoat, she does her best to bundle it up into something more manageable for transport, and offers it to him. “Here.” She says, softer now. “You … weren’t wrong about it being cold in those cells.”

Zoro wordlessly takes the coat, but his good eye narrows as he now has a chance to examine her under better lighting. “Speaking of Chopper, you should let him take a look at you once you’re cleaned up. Just to make sure there’s nothing that needs treating.”

“I’m fine.” She says, not for the first time, and waves him off with an airy hand. “Like I said, I just want a shower, and maybe something to eat like your cook suggested. If it’s not too much trouble, I guess.”

“I’ll tell him,” Zoro promises. “He’ll have something waiting for you when you’re finished. He’s good like that. And I’ll talk to Nami about leaving some clean clothes outside the door.” He’s quick to add when she smirks knowingly at him. “So you have something to change into once you’re ready.”

“Okay.” Perona agrees, watching him as he backs away towards the door and wrestles it back open so he can make his escape. “I guess I’ll see you in a bit then.”

“Sure, sounds good.” Zoro promises. “I’ll be in the galley, which is right next to the infirmary.”

“Subtle.” Perona says, but she’s talking to empty air at this point. Zoro’s gone, leaving her alone to figure out the mechanics of the Sunny ’s shower head in peace. “Well. I guess here goes nothing.”

*****

Perona emerges from the washroom about an hour later, freshly bathed and sporting a pair of leggings and a warm navy blue turtleneck sweater that fits her exactly as well as Zoro had speculated. It’s not exactly to her tastes, but it’s a far cry from the rags she’d been wearing, and will do until she can find something better.

Her hair is still damp - to the point that even though she’s brushed it to free it from tangles, she brings a towel along with her to continue soaking up the droplets. No one bats an eye at her as she moves, thankfully. Although, only the helmsman is currently on deck, with most of the crew having presumably turned in for the night given the late hour.

Having said that, she can see a light shining through the porthole that she’s pretty sure belongs to the galley door, and her stomach chooses that exact moment to start growling irritably. Reminded of her promised sustenance, Perona trots in the direction of the light, eager to do something to ease her growing hunger.

The galley is bathed in warm light when she carefully pushes the door open, and Blackleg turns to smile at her as she walks down the short flight of steps to the kitchen. “There you are,” he says happily. “Mossball said you’d be joining us once you were done, so I whipped up a little something based on what he assures me you like. If the bastard lied, though, feel free to tell me and I’ll get you something different after I’m done kicking his ass.”

“I didn’t lie.” Zoro protests, and when Perona glances over at the table, he jerks his chin towards the spot next to him. “She loves bagel sandwiches, I swear.”

“I do,” Perona admits when Blackleg raises his visible eyebrow at her in an obvious bid for confirmation. “He’s telling the truth.”

“Then I hope you enjoy.” Blackleg replies with a grin and a flourishing bow. “Also, please feel free to tell me if I can get you anything else.”

“Cook doesn’t skimp when it comes to food.” Zoro says as Perona settles into the chair next to him and reaches for her plate. “He’s a swirly-browed idiot most of the time, but you can’t go wrong with him when you’re after something to eat.”

“Aww, Marimo, you’re going to make me blush.” Blackleg coos from his spot by the counter. Although, when Perona looks at him out of the corner of her eye, she’s almost positive he is blushing. “You say the sweetest things.”

“Didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro mutters, his own cheeks tinted pink. That much, at least, she’s familiar with. “And oi, you forgot the other thing I told you to get her.”

“Right! Crap, that’s my bad.” Blackleg says in a flustered rush. Pushing away from the counter, he wanders over to a nearby microwave, hitting a couple of buttons until it pops open and he can reach inside. “I was keeping it in here to make sure it didn’t get cold.”

A rich aroma fills the room, and Perona recognizes the smell of hot chocolate before Blackleg’s finished carrying the mug over to the table. “If there’s any toppings you’d like for it,” he advises as he sets it down, “just say the word.”

Perona feels something catch in her throat, and she needs a moment before she feels safe to speak. “No, that’s fine.” She says, after a longer pause than is probably appropriate. “It looks perfect exactly the way it is.”

She hums appreciatively after she takes the first sip. “That’s delicious.” She says quietly. “Thank you.”

Blackleg bows deeply a second time. “Your wish is my command, mademoiselle. I’m delighted to hear that you like it.”

“Don’t say anything.” Zoro pipes up while she’s still trying to formulate a response. “Whatever you come up with will go right to his head. Eventually, we’ll be lucky if he’s able to fit through the doorways.”

“Put a cork in it, asshole.” Blackleg snaps, all traces of his simpering persona vanishing as he glares at Zoro. “Just because you wouldn’t know manners if they slapped you in the face, doesn’t mean everyone else is in the same boat.”

“He is bad, isn’t he?” Perona asks, bumping Zoro’s shoulder with her own as she takes another sip of her drink. “Mihawk despaired of him the entire time we were on Kuraigana.”

Zoro opens his mouth to reply, and then pauses. Recognizing what he looks like when he’s switching to an alternative train of thought, Perona waits him out, and isn’t surprised when his next words have nothing to do with their previous topic of conversation.

“Did you go see Chopper yet?”

“I did not,” Perona replies primly, tapping the side of her mug with her pinky finger. “I already told you I feel okay. Plus, it’s late, so I’m sure he’s in bed by now.”

“As much as I hate to disagree with a lady, no, he isn’t.” Sanji announces. “He mentioned he was going to stay up until he got the all clear that no one needed him, and the light was still on when I walked by earlier.”

Perona frowns, and tears off a piece of her bagel before popping it into her mouth. “Someone should go tell him he can turn in for the night then.” She says after she’s chewed and swallowed. “There’s no point in him staying up if no one needs treatment.

Zoro and Blackleg share a knowing look, and then turn to stare at her as one.

“That’s really not how Chopper operates.” Blackleg says first.

“Not even close.” Zoro agrees. “If he thinks someone’s avoiding him, he’ll hunt them down.”

Perona stares back at him. “Let me guess,” she says slowly, hit with a sudden rush of memories of all the times she’d had to threaten to sit on him so she could bandage him up after his encounters with Mihawk. “You know this from personal experience.“

“Maybe.” Zoro replies, shrugging. “Cook’s just as bad as I am, though. Luffy too.”

“Meaning your doctor has ample opportunity in wrangling difficult patients.” Perona concludes with a sigh. “Alright. I’ll go see him after I’m done here. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic.” Zoro drawls, and then reaches for his own mug of something, which has been resting in front of him since before she’d sat down.

“What are you drinking?” Perona asks curiously. “Please tell me it’s not alcohol.”

“I wish.” Zoro retorts, and when he tilts the cup in her direction, she can see a faint whiff of steam rising from it. “S’tea,” he confirms after she nods. “Cook won’t let me have booze this late at night.”

“Correction, I try to prevent it.” Blackleg says from where he’s now joined them across the table and is busy lighting a cigarette. “You break into my stores as often as I tell you no.”

“He did that to Mihawk too.” Perona recalls. “It was the only thing that ever used to get a rise out of the old coot.”

“The way I remember it, you aided and abetted me more than once on those little adventures.” Zoro grins, and when he holds up his mug, she clinks it together with her own as expected. “You were better at dodging the blame, though.”

“That’s because I’m smarter than you.” Perona replies, smirking at him over the edge of her cup.

Zoro rolls his good eye, but bumps her shoulder with his, much the same way she had earlier. Then he knocks back the rest of his tea, draining the mug in a single gulp with a satisfied sigh. “I’m on watch tonight, so I’ve got to get up to the crow’s nest to relieve Usopp. Do you need anything before I go?”

“I’m good,” Perona assures him as he stands. “And I promise to go visit your doctor when I’m done eating.”

His expression softening, Zoro tweaks a still damp lock of her hair as he passes her by. “You’ll like him,” he says. “He’s way cuter than all those stuffed bears you used to keep in the castle.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Perona sniffs, unsurprised when Zoro chuckles as he heads out of the galley.

*****

As promised, Perona pays a visit to the infirmary once she’s done with her meal. Chopper perks up when he spots her, clearly having been expecting her, and gestures for her to have a seat on his examination table.

Her stint in the infirmary is blessedly short. Chopper tuts reprovingly at a few of her scrapes, notes that he’d like to see her gain back a bit of weight she’s lost, and actively scowls when she rolls down the turtleneck to reveal the bruise the sea prism collar has left on her throat.

“I can give you a salve to help that heal faster and deal with any residual ache.” He says after he’s finished eyeing it critically. “Thankfully it appears to be just bruising, meaning it’ll clear up without any permanent damage.”

Perona shrugs, trying to play the matter off. “Hey, if it doesn’t, at least I can always say the marines had to pull out all the stops to keep me under control. That’s something, right?”

Chopper gives her a long look, before exhaling heavily through his muzzle. “I can see why Zoro likes you. That’s exactly the kind of thing he’d say.”

“Zoro’s an idiot.” Perona mutters in an attempt to save face.

“You say that the same way Sanji does.” The doctor replies, making her scowl harder. “But on that note, it looks like you’re good to go. Would you like me to show you where the woman’s bunkroom is? I think Nami and Robin were planning to make up a bed for you.”

“That’s alright, I know where it is.” Perona lies. “Zoro pointed it out to me when he was showing me where the washroom was.”

“And you’re sure he had the right place?” Chopper asks skeptically, making Perona laugh.

“I’m sure.” She promises. “And I’m positive I can find my way back there on my own. You’ve stayed up long enough on my account.”

“It was no trouble.” He assures her. “I always have little projects on the go in here to pass the time. Having said that, if you’re good, I think I’m going to tidy things up and then head to bed.”

“I’m good.” Perona promises, but when she exits the infirmary, she makes no attempt to figure out which spot is the woman’s bunkroom. Instead, she looks around to ensure that no one’s watching, and then heads for the main mast.

“I had a feeling I might see you again tonight.” Zoro says when she pops her head through the hatch and then drags the rest of her body into the crow’s nest. “How did things go with Chopper?”

Wandering over to the bench he’s sitting on, Perona drops down next to him, and shoves her hand into the pocket of her borrowed sweater. Rooting around until she finds what she’s looking for, she pulls a small jar free and holds it up for Zoro to see.

“He says I’m fine,” she reports, “but he gave me this. For the bruise on my neck.”

“Yeah, I recognize that stuff.” Zoro admits, taking the container from her when she offers it to him. “He’s slopped it on me plenty of times over the years. Do you want a hand with putting it on?”

“I don’t want to put it on at all.” She replies, barely managing to hold back a shudder. “Touching that mark is only going to - going to remind me of being in that cage, and the even worse one that they planned to throw me into.”

Zoro goes quiet at this, except for the faint clink the jar makes when he sets it down on the window sill. Several seconds pass without either of them saying anything, and then the swordsman awkwardly clears his throat.

“Do you want me to braid your hair?”

Letting out a faint huff, Perona blinks rapidly as she turns to look up at him. “You hate doing that,” she says weakly. “You always made a huge fuss whenever I made you do it back on Kuraigana.”

Zoro shrugs, looking unconcerned. “Got pretty good at it, though, did I?” He asks, grinning ever so slightly. “And I think I remember how to do it.”

“I bet you don’t,” Perona counters in a poor attempt to save face. “I bet you’ll make an absolute mess of things if I say yes. I’ll probably have to cut all my hair off, it’ll be so bad.”

“Is that a no then?”

“I didn’t say that.” Perona replies, slapping him lightly on the knee. “You offered, and I’m saying no take backs. Put your money where your mouth is and get to work.”

“‘Kay.” Zoro says, and then slides down off the bench to sit on the floor, much like he’d used to back in Kuraigana. “You coming?”

A blanket has been conveniently left out not far from where he’s sitting, and Perona drags it over to her when she drops down in front of it. Bundling it around herself, she shakes her hair free so that Zoro can reach it, and then waits for the familiar feeling of him separating her tresses into pieces.

“D’you just want one big one tonight?” He asks, and Perona nods.

“Yeah.” She says simply, lapsing back into silence as he works.

He’s got her hair neatly divided into three sections, having used his hands to finger comb any remaining snarls free, and is just starting to twist them around each other when she speaks again. “How did you know I was going to come up here?”

Thanks to his grip on her hair, she feels it when he shrugs. “Lucky guess, mostly.” He says. “You’re in a strange place, mostly full of people you barely know, and up until a couple hours ago you were in a really shitty situation. It stands to reason you might want to hang out with the only person you do know well.”

“ … yeah.” She rasps, tucking her legs up to her chest and propping her chin on them. “I should have said it earlier, but … thank you. For coming after me, I mean.”

“S’not a big deal.” Zoro murmurs, and she knows full well that if she could see his face right now she’d be greeted with the sight of a bright red splotch, blazing its way across the bridge of his nose. “Wasn’t like I’d ever let you rot in a marine cell for real.”

“No one else came.” She points out, her voice hitching. “You said you found out because it made the papers, but no one else bothered to do anything. They were just going to let those people put - put me in a hole and never see the light of day again.”

Maybe she should have expected it, but she’s still surprised when Zoro shuffles forward to wrap her up in an awkward hug. “Moria’s gone missing again.” He says, dropping this bomb apologetically. “He got into some kind of tussle with Blackbeard and no one’s sure what went down. There’s a good chance he doesn’t know what happened to you yet.”

“And as for Mihawk,” he trails off, and now she can picture a faint smirk twisting his mouth. “He called right when we were getting ready to come after you. I don’t know how, but he knew we were closer to you than he was, and wanted to make sure we knew you were in trouble.”

“Really?” She asks, swiping ineffectively at the tears that are now running down her face.

“Mhm,” Zoro confirms. “You’re a pain in the ass, Rona, but over my dead body would I let you wind up in Impel Down.”

“Of course, you wouldn’t.” She says, trying to save face as he pulls back. “That’s because you know I’m awesome, and way too cute for that place. Now, finish my hair like you promised.”

“Ugh,” he groans. “I take it back. The fucking marines can have you.”

*****

Not long after he finishes with her hair, Zoro lifts up one of the padded benches that line the crow’s nest to reveal a hidden storage compartment. Inside is a rolled up sleeping pallet, along with a few more blankets to go with the one she’s already wrapped in.

Pretending that they can’t both see the sheen in her eyes, Perona nods in acquiescence to Zoro’s unspoken suggestion, and then gets out of the way so he can haul the items out of the storage bin. She then watches as he sets up a decent looking bed, and gives him a watery smile.

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” She asks. “Technically, you’re working right now.”

“Please,” he scoffs, giving her an unimpressed look. “If I could handle you yammering in my ear every time I tried to work through a simple exercise routine, I can definitely deal with you snoring while I keep watch.”

“I do not snore.” Perona snaps, wishing she still had her boots so it would do more damage when she kicks him in the shin. “You’re such a jerk.”

Zoro doesn’t even have the common decency to rub his leg for show. “Maybe, but I’m a jerk who’s letting you crash with him.” He points out as he reclaims his earlier spot by the window. “I could always toss you back out the door if you’d like.”

“Try it, and it’s my hollows for you.” Perona informs him. “Don’t think I won’t. Oh, and if you really piss me off, I might just go and have a little chat with that pretty blond of yours while I’m at it. I’m sure he’d love to hear some more stories about your time on Kuraigana, especially all the parts where you whined incessantly about missing him.”

“I did not!” Zoro yelps, but she’s gratified by the way his expression goes immediately cagey. “Besides, he’d never believe you.”

Perona gives him a long look, and then sighs. “I’m too tired to deal with this tonight, but rest assured we’ll talk about it later since I’m probably going to be on your ship for a while. In the morning, though. Right now, I’m going to sleep.”

Suiting action to words, she crawls under the blankets that have been laid out for her, at the same time Zoro dims the lamps in the crow’s nest so that the lighting isn’t so harsh. Despite the change, she’s expecting to have difficultly drifting off, and is therefore surprised when she’s asleep before her head hits the pillow.

Given how late it was when she’d turned in, Perona has no idea how long she sleeps for. What she does know, is that she’s barely sat up and begun to rub the sleep out of her eyes when the hatch is unceremoniously flung open and Blackleg pokes his head into the crow’s nest.

“Marimo, we can’t find Perona anywhere! Robin mentioned she never joined them last night, and - oh .” 

Derailing himself mid-sentence, the cook finally notices her, and blinks at her through the fringe of his hair. He then blinks at Zoro a second time, when the swordsman sits up next to her, having apparently migrated onto the floor while she’d slept.

“ Um !” Blackleg honest to god squeaks, and it takes every ounce of self-control Perona has not to start laughing at his bamboozled expression. “Sorry! I didn’t realize this was where you ended up.”

Sensing an opportunity to have a little fun, Perona leans around until she can prop her chin on Zoro’s shoulder, all while smiling in Blackleg’s direction. “Here I am,” she agrees, trying hard not to snicker when he chokes. “I felt like some familiar company last night.”

Blackleg makes a noise that might charitably be called a whimper, but does his best to rally in spite of himself. “Of course,” he says, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the half asleep swordsman. “After everything you’ve been through, it only makes sense that you’d prefer someone you know to strangers. Hmm. Well. I - I’m glad I found you then. The others were afraid something might have happened.”

“You couldn’t have had Robin check around for her?” Zoro asks blearily. “Since when does she care about spying on people with that devil fruit of hers?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Blackleg sniffs, his expression morphing into a scowl as he shifts his attention to Zoro. “Sweet Robin would never do something like that.”

“Okay, Curls. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Zoro replies. “Anyway, congrats on finding Rona on the only ship around for miles. We’re all really impressed, I’m sure.”

Blackleg’s face spasms slightly, but he rallies with impressive aplomb and somehow manages to keep from falling off the ladder he’s still standing on as he plants his hands on his hips. “You’re late for breakfast,” he says flatly. “You should come down before it gets cold.”

Zoro waves a hand to show that he’s heard, and Blackleg must find this satisfactory because he nods and ducks down out of the hatch. One of his hands reappears briefly to close it behind him, and Perona suspects that if she listens carefully, she’ll be able to make out the sound of him grumbling to himself as he climbs back down to the deck.

More amused than she’s been in recent memory, Perona digs her chin more pointedly into Zoro’s shoulder and grins. “So,” she says expansively, “to misquote Mihawk, this is where you’ve chosen to lay your affections?”

“Pretty sure that’s actually a direct quote.” Zoro tells her. “And if you don’t drop this subject right the fuck now, I will throw you out the nearest window.”

“Urk, I see you haven’t gotten any cuter since the last time I saw you.” Perona huffs. “You’re just as awful as ever.”

“Same to you.” Zoro replies, craning his neck around to pin her with a look. “Whatever you think is going on between the cook and I, you’re wrong. So do me a favor and drop it.”

“I could do that.” Perona says slowly, enjoying the hopeful look that creeps into his face until she crushes it with relish. “But there’s no fun in that, so I won’t. I’m going to be here for a bit while I get my affairs in order, and, as an expression of my gratitude, I’ve decided I’m going to help you with this little problem of yours. Because I’m such a magnanimous sort, of course.”

Zoro goes gratifyingly pale at her words, and Perona rolls off the sleep pallet with an amused giggle.

“Come on. He said there’s breakfast waiting, and I’m starving. Hurry up, or I’m going without you.”

“Like hell!” Zoro barks, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to follow her. “No way am I risking leaving you alone with Sanji when you’re in this kind of mood.”

“Oooh, Sanji is it?” Perona cackles, making a kissy face at him as she reaches the ladder handles and turns to prepare to climb down the rungs. “How sweet.”

“Rona, I swear - ” Zoro starts, but his pleas fall on deaf ears. Perona gives him a jaunty wave, and slides through the hatch.

*****

Zoro follows hot on her heels, and the two of them must make quite the sight when they appear in the galley, bickering and sleep rumpled as they are. The rest of the Strawhats clustered around the table look up at their arrival, with multiple sets of eyebrows approaching their respective hairlines. 

Perona recognizes all of them, naturally. Between the newsreels, Thriller Bark, and past Warlord meetings she’d attended with Moria she’s met everyone at this table at least once or twice, but that doesn’t stop her from putting her relative unfamiliarity with them to good use.

“Well,” she says, turning around and hooking her hands around Zoro’s closest elbow as she stares up at him reproachfully. “Don’t just stand there gaping, you big brute. Introduce me to your friends.”

“You’ve already met them.” Zoro replies, sounding a little like he’s being strangled. “Plus, it’s not like you’re shy. Introduce yourself if it’s that important to you.”

“Tch, there’s no winning with you,” Perona huffs. Maintaining her hold on his arm, she flounces over to the spot at the table where two seats have been left vacant, claiming one for herself and forcing Zoro into the other. 

“This looks amazing.” She says, eyeing the spread. “Definitely better than anything I was eating on that horrible navy ship.”

“I’d certainly hope so.” Blackleg says, the first of the Strawhats to find his voice. “Please, take as much as you like, and if there’s anything not on today’s menu that you’re in the mood for, just let me know. After all, you’re a guest.”

“You’re so sweet,” Perona says, batting her eyes at him. “Much nicer than this lug.” She adds, swatting Zoro in the shoulder. “Although, I guess he was nice enough to come rescue me, so maybe I shouldn’t complain.”

“If anyone has anything to complain about, I think it’s me.” Zoro announces. “You’re in a mood this morning.”

“You have no idea.” Perona replies, happily accepting the mug of coffee Blackleg offers, as well as saucers of cream and sugar. “And I’m just getting warmed up.”

The Strawhats do provide her with proper introductions over the course of the meal. Afterwards, Nami invites her to the woman’s bunkroom to borrow more clothes, and she spends the rest of the day getting to know the crew better, although she makes a point never to stray too far from Zoro’s side for long.

He gives her a searching look every time she reappears, clearly suspecting that she’s up to something. On each occasion she responds by giving him a sunny smile and batting her eyes at him, enjoying the way he always grumbles in return.

The day passes much like that, with the only other notable event being a suppertime conversation where she learns that they’re at least a few weeks away from the next closest island. She’s not sure what her plans are at this point, but it seems like she’s going to have some time to think about the future - not to mention her scheming where Zoro is concerned.

That much she continues putting in motion even after the sun has set and everyone’s retired for the night except for Brook, who has the watch. She accepts the pajamas Nami offers her, but rather than crawling into the bed the navigator and Robin have tried to do up for her, she brushes away their concern and sits patiently in an armchair instead.

“Alright,” Nami says after one last failed attempt to coax her into a real bed. “I hope this doesn’t come across as insensitive, but I have to ask - what the hell are you doing?”

Perona snickers. “I’m doing a favor for the green menace, but in a way he’s going to find mortifying that’s also extremely entertaining for me.”

Nami glances across the room at Robin, and the two women share a look before simultaneously turning to Perona. “Go on.” Nami says, her mouth beginning to curl upwards in a smirk. “We’re listening.”

Perona does a quick mental tally on whether or not she’s about to reveal anything inappropriate, but ultimately decides that both women have known Zoro longer than she has, while also having functioning eyesight. On that basis, she’s going to assume they’re not as oblivious as the swordsman might wish.

“You know he’s head over heels for your fancy cook, don’t you?”

“No shit.” Nami snorts inelegantly, while Robin inclines her head in silent agreement. “If you’re trying to surprise us, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

“I figured as much.” Perona admits, pleased that she’d hedged her bets correctly. “What about the cook? Any idea what his stance on the situation is?”

“Oblivious.” Nami says, her mouth flattening into a thin line.

“Oblivious, but not necessarily uninterested, we believe.” Robin’s quick to correct. “In many ways, Sanji’s harder to read than Zoro. He has a nasty habit of playing his true cards close to his chest.”

“Yeah, I’ve read the newsreels.” Perona says, thinking back on the headlines involving Big Mom’s tea party, “But, based on what you’re saying, it sounds like Zoro might have a shot here.”

“A shot, for sure.” Robin agrees. “I wouldn’t call it a guarantee, but there’s something between the two of them, that much is certain.”

“Good.” Perona says, relieved as much for Zoro’s sake as she is anything else. “I can work with that.”

“How?” Nami wants to know, and Perona makes a face at the navigator.

“As horrifying as it is to admit out loud, I’m pretty sure Blackleg thinks that  - eugh - that Zoro and I are an item . Either that or he thinks we could be one.” Perona shudders in a way that’s only partly for show. “I’m going to use that to my advantage.”

“You’re going to make him jealous.” Robin correctly surmises. “Hmm, you may be onto something there. Although, I’m afraid I don’t see how sleeping in our armchair is going to help you accomplish your goal.”

“Who says I’m planning to sleep here?” Perona asks, giving them both her most winsome smile. “I’m sleeping in the men’s room, I just need to kill enough time for most of them to conceivably be out cold before I sneak in.”

“Oh you’re good .” Nami says, after she and Robin have had a moment to digest this plan. “Brave too. It smells weird in there, and like half of them snore.”

“Gross,” Perona says, wrinkling her nose. “Zoro better appreciate the sacrifices I’m making for him.”

“He won’t.” Nami says confidently. “But you’re right, this is going to be really fun.”

“His is the middle bunk on the bottom row.” Robin supplies helpfully. “In between Chopper and Sanji’s.”

“Excellent.” Perona says, nodding her head in gratitude. “Thanks for the tip.”

“Oh, no, thank you for your service,” Nami says. “You have no idea how old watching this train wreck is getting.”

Nodding affably, Perona leans back in her seat, twisting a lock of hair thoughtfully around one of her fingers. It’s no longer in its braid from earlier, and she thinks idly about making Zoro redo it for her in the morning while she waits.

Eventually Nami and Robin head to bed for real, and, as the sound of their breathing evens out, Perona decides now is as good a time as any to make her move. Sliding out of her borrowed chair, she lets her feet hit the floor and creeps carefully out of the room.

She maintains her quiet pace all the way to the bunkroom, not wanting to alert anyone to her presence. Once she reaches the door she’s after, she then slowly eases it open and slinks carefully inside.

Much like Nami had predicted she’s met with a cacophony of snores the moment she sneaks into the room. Recognizing Zoro’s distinctive ones among them - lord knows she’d seen him sleep enough times on Kuraigana to pick that noise out of a crowd - she follows the sound to the desired bunk, and begins to unceremoniously climb inside.

“ … the hell?” Zoro mumbles as she jostles him, his voice thick with sleep. His observation haki hasn’t flared, likely because it can tell she’s not a threat - meaning he’s woken more naturally - and is therefore extremely confused.

“It’s just me.” Perona murmurs back, not wanting to wake any of the others at this point. “Move over, would you? I don’t have enough space.”

“ … Rona?”

Rolling her eyes at his befuddled uttering of that stupid nickname, Perona thumps him on the arm until he finally gets with the program and starts to shuffle sideways. “Obviously,” she says, watching him move. “Who else would be crawling into your bed at this hour?”

“Why the fuck are you ?” Zoro demands, having apparently woken up enough that his two regularly working brain cells have started firing. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t sleep.” She says, wriggling into the space he’s subconsciously made for her and grabbing for the blanket that’s resting somewhere down by their feet. Zoro runs hot enough that she might not need it, but better safe than sorry. “I’m a recent kidnapping victim who’s alone in a strange place, and I want comforting from the one person on this ship who I know well enough to trust.”

“ … you’re so full of shit.” Zoro says, his voice perfectly clear now, to the point that she can easily picture the narrow-eyed glare he’s giving her despite the darkened room. “You’re up to something, is what you are.”

“Prove it.” She replies. “And share the pillow, would you? God, you’re such a space hog.”

“It’s my bed!” He says incredulously, loud enough that a couple people let out inquisitive murmurs in their sleep, and at least one body in the bunks above them rolls over with an annoyed grunt.

“ … It’s my bed.” He hisses a second time once the others have settled, albeit at a considerably lower volume. “I’ll take up as much space as I want.”

“If you do, I’ll start kicking you.” Perona warns. “Honestly, you have no manners whatsoever.”

“Says the woman who’s crawled into my bed in the middle of the night.” Zoro retorts, apparently having found a refrain he likes and deciding to stick with it.

“Yes, because I’m traumatized and you make me feel safe.” Perona replies flatly. “Aren’t you special?”

“I hate you.” Zoro replies, but there’s a resigned note to it that makes Perona smirk in the darkness. 

“You don’t,” she assures him. “And you might be annoyed, but you’re still going to let me stay because, even though you don’t have a cute bone in your body, you're a big softie underneath all those stupid muscles.”

Zoro’s answering grumbles implies that he takes offense to this, but he stops trying to force her out of the bunk. In fact, he arranges himself so that he’s curled comfortably around her, while simultaneously not making her feel like she’s boxed in to the point of it being claustrophobic.

“I knew you’d see it my way,” Perona says. She aims for her tone to sound smug, but suspects she misses slightly. For all her pretending, she’s perhaps not quite as okay yet as she’d like people to believe, and this part of her plan does have the added benefit of keeping the person she currently feels safest with close at hand.

“Whatever.” Zoro huffs behind her, effectively jerking her out of her maudlin thoughts. “Goodnight, I guess.”

“Night.” Perona replies, and settles in to try and get some actual sleep.

*****

She wakes feeling both well rested and like somebody’s watching her. Straining her senses outward, including through her hollows, is enough to convince her that whoever it is isn’t a threat, so she takes her time stretching languorously before cracking her eyes open.

Blackleg stares back at her from where he’s half in/half out of the bunk next to Zoro’s, his perplexed expression suggesting that he’s not entirely certain he isn’t dreaming.

Letting her mouth curve into a smile, Perona blinks up at him, wondering if he’ll work up the nerve to speak first, but doubting it. Behind her, Zoro’s a warm line of heat at her back, although she can tell he’s still sound asleep and also facing away from her for the time being.

As expected, Blackleg continues to stare at her stupidly, so she decides to take pity on him. Blinking some more, she burrows further into the bedding, but keeps her gaze locked with his as she moves. “Mornin’,” she mumbles, her sleep heavy tone only partly for show.

“Um.” Blackleg says, his voice that of a man who’s trying to reconcile the sight he sees before him with the reality he thinks should be there. “Good morning?”

Perona nods back, and raises her head ever so slightly, just enough that she can peek up at the room’s only porthole. Unsurprised to find it’s still dark out, she lays back down. “S’early.”

“ … yes.” Blackleg agrees. He’s still hanging partway out of his bunk, a fact that Perona resolves to describe to Nami and Robin in great detail later on. They strike her as the kind of people to find this as funny as she does. “I have to get up to get breakfast started.”

“Right.” Perona says, nodding to show that she’s heard him. She then shifts to roll over, perfectly executing a turn that lets her plaster herself to Zoro’s broad back and bury her face in his shoulder. “Makes sense.”

She hears Blackleg’s breath hitch behind her, and she’s pretty sure the following thump is him stumbling the rest of the way out of his bunk. “You okay?”

“Fine!” He yelps, far too loud in the close confines of the bunkroom. “Just, uh, tripped on something getting out of bed. This place is such a disaster, you know, I’m sorry you had to see it.”

Perona hums noncommittally, hoping the sound makes him think she’s intending to go back to sleep. It must be because rather than say anything further, he putters over to what she’s going to assume is his locker, yanks some fresh clothes out, and then leaves the room without another word.

The room descends back into silence again, but only for a moment. Shortly after Blackleg’s departure, Perona feels a number of muscles shift beneath her, and Zoro snorts.

“You’re the worst.” He says, sounding far more awake than she’s expecting.

Rather than humor him, Perona smiles into his shoulder. “You love it.” She says, and closes her eyes to try and get a bit more sleep.

She must succeed because the next time she opens her eyes it’s considerably brighter in the room, and there are other people moving around her. Catching sight of Chopper scrambling out of the bunk next to theirs, she sits up with a yawn, stretching hard enough that she hears something crack in her neck.

The motion is accompanied by a startled squawk, and when she looks over she finds a half dressed Usopp clutching a shirt to his chest, as if he feels the need to protect his virtue. Smirking, she winks at him. “Trust me, sweetie. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.”

“Why are you in here? Why is she in here?” Usopp demands. His second question is directed to Zoro, who’s just sat up with an annoyed huff, narrowly avoiding cracking his head on the bunk above them in the process.

“Because I was having trouble falling asleep in the other room.” Perona lies easily, blinking guileless eyes at him.

“And because she’s terrible.” Zoro adds helpfully, grunting when Perona elbows him in the ribs. “Well you are.”

Sniffing, Perona moves to climb out of the bunk, wincing when her bare feet hit the deck, and she’s immediately accosted by an early morning chill. “Stupid Grand Line.” She mutters, wrapping her arms around herself in a move that’s not even a little bit for show. “Why can’t the weather here ever make sense?”

“You just answered your own question.” Zoro snipes, but he quickly makes up for his poor attitude by shuffling over to the locker that bears his name and twisting it open. Perona watches as he roots around in it for a couple seconds, before making a triumphant noise and pulling free a large black hoodie.

“Here.” He says, tossing the item of clothing at her. “You might end up drowning in it, but at least you’ll be warm.”

Wasting no time in tugging the hoodie over her head, Perona sighs happily as she starts to warm up almost right away. She sets about rolling the sleeves up so she can have unencumbered use of her hands, catching Usopp’s eye as she does so.

“What?” She asks, noting how the sniper is staring at her in rapt fascination. “Did I grow a second head during the night or something?”

“No, no you’re good,” Usopp says in a rush. He then shifts his gaze from her to Zoro, shooting the swordsman an inscrutable look where he’s busy yanking a t-shirt over his bare chest, and frowning. “No problems here, I guess.”

“Good to know,” Perona replies. Yanking her hair free from the confines of the sweater, she lets it trail down her back, noting with irritation that it’s turned into an absolute bird’s nest during the night. Still, maybe as a silver lining she can convince Zoro to help her with it again, preferably where Blackleg can see.

And speaking of Blackleg … “Breakfast should be ready by now, don’t you think?” She asks. “Your cook woke me up for a bit when he was leaving, and I’m sure that was a couple hours ago.”

“Sanji saw you in here?” Usopp demands, his eyebrows rising as high as they possibly can. “And he didn’t wake the whole room up flailing about it?”

Perona blinks at him. “I mean - he seemed a little surprised, but he was honestly way less rude about it than you’re being. Will you quit staring at me?”

“Sorry!” Usopp squeaks, but when he makes no move to adjust his posture, Zoro breaks the tension by sighing and stepping between the two of them.

“C’mon.” He says, motioning towards the door for Perona to follow him. “He’s going to be useless as long as you’re in here, and you’re right - Curls should definitely have something ready to eat by now. Let’s go.”

“Fine.” Perona sniffs. “After you.”

*****

Much like the day before, breakfast is a raucous affair. Perona’s starting to think that’s just par for the course for the Strawhats, however, and at least this time there’s much less staring when she appears in the galley doorway at Zoro’s side - although she suspects the way Blackleg’s eyebrow twitches means he recognizes the sweater she’s wearing. 

Blackleg also uses the morning meal as an opportunity to berate the other men on the crew for the current state of the bunkroom. He indicates in no uncertain terms that it’s going to have to be scrubbed down from top to bottom if they’re going to have a woman staying in their midst, with the unspoken question being as to whether or not she intends to keep doing so.

Never one to pass up a chance to play stupid, Perona beams at him from over the rim of her coffee cup. “That’s so sweet of you!” She coos, delighting in the way his entire face goes red. “I didn’t want to mention it, but I did almost trip over something when I went to bed last night and I stubbed my toe on someone’s toolbox.”

The glare Blackleg shoots Franky and Usopp suggests he has his suspicions as to who said toolbox must have belonged to, and as soon as breakfast is over with, he’s ordering every man on the ship into the bunkroom to clean it until it shines. Zoro shoots her a murderous look over his shoulder as he goes, and Perona waves cheerily at him as the galley door closes.

Nami and Robin are the only ones left in the galley with her after the men have cleared out, and they turn to her with matching inquisitive expressions as the boys’ assorted grumblings fade into the distance. 

“I take it step one of your plan went well?” Robin asks, and across from her, Nami snorts.

“Are you kidding?” The redhead asks, leaning back in her seat. “Sanji was worked up even by his standards.” She notes, the beginnings of a grin forming at the corner of her mouth. “Perona’s got him thrown for a loop, and he’s overcompensating to try and make up for it.”

“The sweater was a nice touch.” She adds, nodding her head in approval. “Although, if I were you, I wouldn’t think too hard about when it might’ve last been washed.”

Perona shrugs, the movement causing said sweater to wrinkle in a couple places. “Zoro picked this one out,” she clarifies, “and he’s not stupid enough to give me something that wasn’t clean. He knows I’d strangle him.”

“Still,” Nami says. “You’re going to be here for a while, so why don’t you come on up to our room, and we can see about getting you a more complete wardrobe for the next couple weeks. Between the two of us, we might even have some makeup you might like to try.”

“That sounds amazing,” Perona says, touched by the offer. She hasn’t had her face done up in ages, and truth be told she does miss it. Furthermore, the mention of makeup has just given her another idea to try out. “Lead the way.”

She spends most of the morning rooting around in Nami’s closet, picking out enough things to keep her going during her stint on the Sunny . After that, Robin makes a comment about how the early chill has faded and it’s actually turned into quite a nice day. The three of them then head for the upper deck and its lounge chairs by unspoken agreement.

Jinbe’s hand is steady on the helm as they emerge from the woman’s bunk, and nor is he the only one out on the deck. Chopper’s on the lawn, sorting through what looks like a medical kit, with Usopp not far away poking at some contraption in his hands. Meanwhile, Zoro’s on the same level as the lounge chairs, working his way through a series of katas with Wado in hand.

Her lips curling at the familiar sight, Perona barely spares him a nod as they pass him by, and sprawls out on one of the chairs as indicated. Nami then takes the one next to her, and Robin the one after that. 

The three of them chat amongst themselves for a bit, until eventually the conversation peters off. At that point, Robin cracks open a book she mentions she’s been making her way through, and Nami makes noise about wanting to make some notes in the daily log she keeps.

Having no real interest in either of those things, Perona lays back in her chair, where she ultimately slips into a semi doze, lulled there by the calming sound of the waves. She’s not sure how long she rests like that, but she eventually hears a door open down below, followed by excited chattering from the Strawhats.

“Must be snack time.” Nami says, brushing the hair out of her eyes with the back of an ink stained hand. “That sounds like Sanji coming with something to eat.”

“And our captain coming to relieve him of his burden.” Robin adds with a faint smile.

As if on cue, there’s a twanging noise from the direction of the lawn, which is quickly accompanied by wild laughter and irate shouting. Blackleg’s voice is impressively shrill given the distance, and Perona raises an eyebrow at his ability to project it all the way up here.

“I take it this happens often?” She asks.

Nami snorts. “Try multiple times a day. I’ll never envy Sanji his job, not with the appetites he has to handle on this crew.”

“Darling, I just tell myself it’s better that I be forced to deal with these reprobates than your lovely self!” Blackleg croons, swaning up the stairs and over to them with a tray held aloft. On it, Perona can see a plate of sandwiches, and four glasses filled with what looks like some kind of fruit juice.

“A refreshing snack, my beauties?” He continues on, hooking his ankle around a nearby table, dragging it over, and planting the tray on it with a flourish. “Something to tide you over until supper?”

“That sounds perfect to me, Sanji.” Robin says, leaning forward to eagerly reach for a sandwich. “And you’ve even made one for yourself for once, I see.”

“Hmm? Oh. No, that’s not for me.” Looking nonplussed, Blackleg glances over to the back railing where Zoro, apparently having finished with his exercises and now moved onto cleaning his swords, is sitting cross legged with Kitetsu in hand. “That one belongs to Mossball.”

At the sound of the nickname, Zoro raises his head and glances their way, almost seeming as if he’s noticing them all for the first time. “Sorry,” he says after a moment too long. “What was that?”

“I said it’s snack time, you idiot.” Blackleg barks, his impatience flaring. He stomps a foot irately, and flutters one hand above the tray. “Get your lazy carcass over here and have something to drink before you wind up dehydrating.”

Zoro blinks at him, the action sillier than it would be for most people since he only has the one eye, but eventually the cook’s words must sink in because he nods and starts tidying up his cleaning supplies. Once they’re properly stowed away, he gets to his feet and trails over to them.

“Here.” Blackleg grumbles, picking up one of the glasses and shoving it in the swordsman’s direction, yet for some reason doing it without meeting his eye. “I made sure this one wasn’t too sweet, so your useless tastebuds shouldn’t reject it.”

“Thanks?” Zoro says, sounding confused. Nevertheless, he accepts the glass and then knocks back a hearty swig that sees him smack his lips together appreciatively. “ Damn . That’s really good.”

“Of course it is.” Blackleg says, now fidgeting with his empty tray since the rest of them have likewise claimed their drinks. “I made it.”

Nodding to show he’s heard him, Zoro continues downing his drink, but rather than take off again when he’s finished, he flops into one of the chairs next to the table. “Sandwiches too?” He asks, reaching for one.

“Please, feel free.” Robin says, sliding the plate over to him before anyone else can say anything. “There’s plenty to go around.”

Perona watches him as he takes a large bite. “Are you taking a break?” She asks while he’s still mid-chew. “Good.” She adds when he nods. Choosing to ignore the disgusting way one of his cheeks is bulging, she starts rooting around in the pockets of the borrowed dress she’s wearing. “Then you can help me out with this.”

“Help you out with - aw, come on.” Zoro groans when he spots the small bottle of nail polish she’s just triumphantly produced. “You don’t need me for that.”

“Maybe not need ,” Perona agrees coyly, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “But you got so good at it while we were on Kuraigana. How am I supposed to pass this opportunity up while I have you all to myself?”

“I haven’t done it since Kuraigana.” Zoro points out weakly. “I’m out of practice.”

“That’s fine.” Perona quips. “If you screw it up, that’s what remover is for, and then you can just keep doing it until you get it right.”

Zoro groans again, like she’s asking him to do something truly awful, but then he holds out a hand expectantly, his fingers closing around the tiny bottle when she drops it into the center of his palm. “I’m finishing my sandwich first.”

“I’ll take it.” Perona says, deeming this to be an acceptable compromise. “In fact, I think I’ll have one myself.”

Upon hearing this, Zoro nudges the plate towards her with his elbow, at the same time he holds up the bottle for closer inspection. “Let me guess.” He says, squinting at the label that reads ‘Passionate Crimson’. “This was the darkest color you could find on the ship.”

“I think it’s really going to pop.” Perona says with a grin. “And Nami and Robin agree.”

“We do,” Nami confirms. “However, I’ve got to say, I’m a little concerned that you’re planning to have Zoro do your nails for you. That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“It was at first.” Perona admits, ignoring Zoro’s affronted snort. “He used to make such a mess, I almost gave up on bullying him into it. Except then I realized how single minded he is. That need to always be the best meant that in the end he wouldn’t let me stop.”

“That’s not true.” Zoro instantly denies. “Every time I tried to get out of it, she sent her stupid ghosts after me. I got tired of winding up on the ground saying embarrassing shit, that’s all.”

“Aww, but you looked so good on your knees.” Peron retorts, making an obnoxious face at him when he glares. 

A choking noise alerts them all to the fact that Blackleg is still present, and he waves his tray weakly when everyone turns to look at him. “Sorry,” he says, his cheeks flushed an alarming shade of red as he refuses to meet Perona’s eye specifically. “I’m just going to grab any dishes, and then I’ll get out of everyone’s hair. Leave the Marimo to his fate and all that.”

“Thanks, Sanji.” Nami says, handing him her empty glass and then turning right back to Zoro with a smirk. “And as for you, I want to see this secret talent of yours for myself. If you’re as good as Perona says, I might just put you to work too. Robin, what do you think?”

“Oh yes. Please count me in.”

*****

Perona’s resulting manicure holds up well in the coming days, as do Nami and Robin’s. She occasionally finds herself glancing down at it fondly, an act she starts doing deliberately after she catches Blackleg making a face when he doesn’t think she’s looking.

He really is an entertaining little thing, she decides after one such encounter. His deeply ingrained need to never so much as hint that he’s frustrated with a woman is evidently at war with the increasingly obvious fact that he doesn’t want her around - or at least doesn’t want her around Zoro - and she’s frankly far more amused by this than she should be. 

Blackleg makes faces at her nail polish. He struggles to hide a glare whenever she appears wearing the oversized hoodie she’s claimed for the duration of her stay. He simultaneously insists that the men’s bunkroom must be spotless at all times for her, yet growls under his breath every morning when he wakes up and finds her there. Perona’s not sure he even realizes he’s doing the last one, and she thinks it’s the funniest of the lot.

For his part, Zoro, useless lout that he is, remains oblivious to the cook’s flustered state. Perona’s resigned herself to the fact that it’d take a miracle to convince him to make the first move, and is therefore thankful that each day seems to bring Blackleg closer to erupting. By her best estimate, the cook is fast approaching a point of no return.

Still, that doesn’t mean she can’t continue prodding him along. Her next opportunity presents itself after she’s been on the Sunny for about a week, right when Blackleg tries to put an early end to one of his and Zoro’s frequent sparring matches. 

“I’ve got pies in the oven!” The blond protests, sputtering as Zoro taunts him about how a forfeit is the same as a loss. “I only came out here to see if the ladies wanted anything while the timer ticked down, and then you attacked me, you neanderthal.”

Zoro shrugs, unashamed, never releasing his grips on Enma and Kitetsu. “You didn’t have to say yes.” He notes, a pout obvious in his voice even if he’ll deny it. “And the pies can wait a few more minutes. Luffy’ll still eat ‘em if they burn a little.”

“They’re not for Luffy,” Blackleg exclaims. His words draw an irate squawk from wherever Strawhat is sitting, and Perona suspects the captain’s only a few seconds away from involving himself in the dispute when she opts to climb to her feet.

“Honestly, boys.” She says, moving from where she’s been sitting on the outskirts of the area of the deck they’ve commandeered for their fight, and more towards the center. “You’re like children sometimes, I swear. Sanji, if the pies need tending to, then go do that. Zoro, if you want to keep sparring, then find somebody else.”

“Like who?” Zoro asks, and in answer she summons a hollow that’s much tinier than her normal ones. About the size of a fist, it swirls around her hand for a moment, before drifting up to hover above her shoulder. 

Blackleg’s befuddled expression suggests that he isn’t quite following what’s happening, but Zoro’s turns thoughtful. “You sure?” He asks, his tone projecting a faint air of suspicion. “Because if this is just you looking for an easy way to ghost blast me, I’m gonna be pissed.”

“Marimo, don’t swear in front of the lady.” Blackleg says by rote. “Also what are we talking about?”

“Rona’s gonna sub in for you.” Zoro explains. “So you can run back to your kitchen like a good little cook.”

Perona rolls her eyes, once again horrified by the idiot’s habit of insulting the guy he’s head over heels for, but she knows better than to say anything. Zoro is who he is, and trying to change that won’t work.

Instead, she calls up a few more tiny hollows, waiting until she has roughly half a dozen of them fluttering around her before she moves in. 

Raising his swords in anticipation, Zoro grins that feral grin of his that signifies the opening stages of a fight. Although, she can’t help but notice that it’s not quite as bright as the one he saves for his matches with Blackleg and Blackleg alone.

“Careful you don’t damage the Sunny with those things.” He notes. “Franky won’t be happy if you do.”

Perona smiles back at him. “You know how good I am.” She replies. “That hasn’t changed.”

The first hollow detonates before it reaches him, the move a deliberate one to act as a distraction. Two more than go swooping in simultaneously, and the resulting explosion draws startled yelps from all across the deck. Most of the Strawhats come running to see what’s going on, but then freeze when Zoro holds up a hand to stop them.

“Don’t worry about it.” He assures his friends. “I know how to handle these things.”

“Just like I know how to handle your stupid swords. Perona says, her smile growing when he glares at her. “Bring it on.”

Zoro charges at her, both swords held aloft, and she flashes back to their years spent on Kuraigana, during which she’d grown all too accustomed to this exact sight. 

When Zoro had first approached Mihawk about training him, Perona’d had absolutely no intention of getting involved. Swords were hardly her weapon of choice, and she’d seen no reason to get in the middle of the two men’s daily attempts to obliterate each other.

At first she’d either ignored their matches altogether, or relegated herself to the sidelines. From there she’d call out mocking advice to Zoro as Mihawk or the humanadrils had put him on his ass for the umpteenth time, thoroughly enjoying the way he’d growled at her for the insults. Over time that had grown boring, however, and another, somewhat uneasy notion had begun prickling at the back of her mind. 

To this day she has no idea why Mihawk had let her stick around Kuraigana the way he had. Zoro made sense because at least the two had things in common, but the elder swordsman clearly preferred his privacy - not to mention, she was technically a commander for a different Warlord of the Sea.

Except Moria had vanished during the War of the Best, and thanks to Kuma she’d been separated from her crew long before the events at Marineford had gone down. She’d had nowhere to go, and would’ve been on her own if Mihawk had decided to run her out of his territory.

That very real fear had prompted her to start engaging in training of her own. She wasn’t anywhere near Mihawk’s league - especially since he was for some inexplicable reason immune to her hollows - and even Zoro likely had her beat if she was being honest. She’d needed to get stronger too, in case the time came when it was just her and her ghosts again.

Her devil fruit set her apart from the two non-power users, and there had certainly been some days of trial and error as attempts were made to mesh all their fighting styles together. Truthfully, she was more of a strategist at heart, and defensively minded when she did wind up in a fight she couldn’t avoid. Nevertheless, she could hold her own if need be, and over the two years she’d unlocked some new abilities where her powers were concerned. 

Which brings her to the here and now. She and Zoro move across the Sunny ’s deck much the way they had the grounds of Kuraigana. Only instead of decrepit ruins and the occasional jeering humanidril, their audience consists of the Strawhats. Including Blackleg, who’s apparently forgotten all about the baked goods waiting in his kitchen. 

“For the record, I liked Shusui better than this one.” Perona comments as she twists out of the way of a swipe from Enma. The new sword has an aura even less pleasant than Kitetsu’s, and she sniffs irritably as it passes by.

“Shusui was a good sword.” Zoro agrees, raising a haki coated arm to block a number of her conclusive hollows. “But Enma earned her keep in Wano.”

“I’m sure.” Perona replies, drawing on her powers for the much more difficult task of levitating her real body as opposed to one of her projections. It’s been ages, and she still doesn’t always have this trick down pat. “I bet Mihawk will love it when the time comes.”

Zoro grunts as she uses her newfound leverage to knee him in the head on the way by, but he shrugs off the blow like it’s nothing. He really has gotten stronger since they’d last done this, to the point that she knows she’s lucky he’s pulling his punches.

Still, it’s all in good fun, which is why she doesn’t mind much when he eventually brings their game to an end by pinning her in a haki induced hold that she can’t break free from. He’s broken a sweat, at least, and she doesn’t think the exertion he’s panting with is for show.

Their audience makes noises of approval when they break apart, and Perona flicks her gaze over the assembled pirates to gauge their reactions. Everyone seems fine, although Blackleg is now notably absent.

“Must’ve been worried about his stupid pies after all.” Zoro says when she mentions as much. “You know how he is about letting food go to waste.”

“Maybe.” Perona says, but based on the quick thumbs up Nami gives her, she’s going to guess there’s more to it than that.

*****

She catches Zoro and Blackleg in a surreptitious argument later that evening. Having been about to exit the galley following the conclusion of supper, the sound of irritable whispering had reached her ears from where the two were clustered around the sink, dealing with the accumulated dishes.

Suspecting she knows what the topic is - a fact that gets helped along when Blackleg hisses the words “I can’t believe you raised your swords at a lady” - she rolls her eyes and continues about her business. The cook knows Zoro doesn’t have his own hangups when it comes to fighting women, so she suspects he’s looking for an excuse to vent his frustrations on.

The sun hasn’t fully set when she makes her way properly outside, but it’s well on its way there. The evening light is fading fast, to the point that Usopp is bustling around the deck, flicking on lanterns as he goes so that none of them are left stumbling around in the dark.

Aside from the two idiots bickering in the galley, everyone’s settled out on the main deck, most of them on the lawn or nearby railings. It’s a warm night out, she notes, and the sea is calm for once, effectively creating an air of peaceful laziness for the rest of them to enjoy.

Reading the mood perfectly, Brook chooses this moment to remove his violin from its case, and pluck a few careful notes as he tunes it. Perona watches him from where she’s settling into a seat near Nami and Chopper, idly wondering if he’ll play something she recognizes.

As if on cue, the skeleton turns to her as she sits. “You may not be aware of this,” he chuckles, “but I’ve been known to take requests, and it seems only fair to ask you first since you’re a guest.”

Perona wrinkles her nose, considering his offer, but feeling for some reason self-conscious about it. “I can’t think of anything off the top of my head,” she admits sheepishly. “I guess just play whatever you feel like?”

The skeleton laughs a second time, and raises his bow to the violin’s strings. “I seem to recall hearing that you’re originally from the West Blue.” He murmurs. “I am too, and while I’m afraid most of what I know from that area is fifty years out of date, perhaps you’ll recognize this one.”

Following fast on the heels of his words are a series of notes that she does indeed recognize. As promised, it’s an old tune from the west, but one that’s still played routinely even today.

“Hey, I know this one.”

Having gotten lost in the song without meaning to, Perona startles when two large hands land on the back of her chair. Twisting around so that she can look up at the interloper, she glares at Zoro for his sudden intrusion.

“I was enjoying that.” She says primly. “Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt people?”

He shrugs, unrepentant, and doesn’t move his hands. “All I said was that I know the song. Isn’t it one of the ones you used to play on Mihawk’s tone dials?”

“Yeah,” Perona confirms. “It is.”

No doubt because he was secretly eighty years old at heart, Mihawk had kept a record collection back on Kuraigana - one where all the songs were heavily outdated. He’d had them sorted by location, and since there hadn’t always been much to do on the islands outside of training, Perona had often commandeered them as her own as a way to pass the long, dark nights in the castle.

Finishing with his current song, Brook switches seamlessly to another one, once again choosing a tune from the West Blue. Perona bobs her head along with the music, grinning suddenly as it picks up a faster pace.

“Do you remember this one too?” She asks, batting her eyes at Zoro.

“Nope.” He replies, far too quickly for the word to be anything other than a lie. He also moves to draw his hands back, like he’s half afraid she’ll make a grab for him if he’s not careful. “Never heard it before in my life.”

“Liar.” Perona says, her grin broadening. “You probably hear this one in your sleep.”

“There’s a story there.” Nami says, abruptly reminding Perona of her presence when she speaks. A brief glance at the navigator finds her looking back and forth between the two of them with a curious expression on her face. “Do tell.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” Zoro insists, crossing his arms over his chest in a move of studied nonchalance while Perona laughs. “She has no idea what she’s talking about.”

“I have every idea of what I’m talking about.” Perona retorts, rolling her eyes. “You’re just embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed Zoro is my favorite Zoro.” Nami says while the swordsman sputters. “Spill, Perona.”

In answer, Perona shrugs. “It’s not really that big a deal,” she says, snorting when Zoro grunts despondently. “I’m just guessing that this dolt never told you the extent of his ‘training’ with Mihawk is all.”

Nami blinks, as does Chopper from where he’s still sitting nearby. “We’re listening.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Zoro grunts again, clearly not interested in prolonging his own misery when he knows the inevitable is coming. “Mihawk’s got a bunch of weird views about how proper swordsmanship and etiquette bullshit go hand in hand. He tried to beat manners and culture into me as much as he did anything else.”

“And in some cases it worked .” Perona stresses, laughing when Zoro makes a face at her. “He still can’t tell you the difference between a salad fork and a regular one - ” 

“Because there isn’t one.”

“ - but he can dance.”

Zoro’s answering groan is almost loud enough to drown out Nami’s delighted gasp, and his expression turns pained. “I have no idea what she’s talking about.” He says in a poor attempt to head off what he must know is coming. “She’s delusional.”

“Oh please. Pull the other one.” Nami scoffs. “You’re busted and you know it. Is he any good?” She adds, focusing back on Perona. “Or does he have two left feet?”

“Very good.” Perona confirms, opting to give credit where credit’s due. “If he steps on someone’s feet, it’s on purpose.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from personal experience.” Nami notes, her tone suggesting that it’s her turn to do a little instigating. “Are you?”

“I am.” Perona agrees, grinning back at her. “There weren’t many options for dance partners on Kuraigana, so Mihawk made do with what he had.”

“Yeah, that and you liked messing with me.” Zoro grumbles.

Perona makes a little touché gesture with her hand, but is stopped when Nami reaches out to grip her by the wrist. Startled, she blinks at the navigator, wondering what she’s doing. 

Nami’s eyes are wide when she meets her gaze, and her body is practically coiled with anticipation. “I will actually pay you to make him dance with you right now.” She says. “The sight alone would honestly be worth it.”

“Not happening.” Zoro says, only to take a cautious step back when the redhead whirls on him.

“Ten percent debt reduction.” She declares. “But it’s a one time offer, and you have to take it right away. If you try and haggle me, it’s gone.”

Zoro’s eye widens, and Perona figures that’ll be enough to do it. Still, it can’t hurt to speed the process along, so she stands and grabs him by the sleeve.

“Come on,” she wheedles, towing him towards an empty space on the lawn. “I’m sure Brook won’t mind starting his song again if you want one you’re familiar with.”

Zoro makes a face, but it’s obvious he’s resigned himself to the fact that this is happening. As Brook stills his bow to give them time to adjust, he settles one of Perona’s hands on his shoulder and raises the other with his own.

“I’m going to get you for this.” He says as the music resumes and they start moving.

“This one’s entirely on Nami.” She replies, feeling no shame in hiding behind the navigator’s actions. “I’m innocent.”

“You’ve never been innocent a day in your life.”

Perona considers summoning a hollow as an act of retribution, but in the end decides that would be letting him off the hook early. Instead, she keeps him moving across the lawn, refusing to stop when the first song ends and a similar one follows suit.

The others have noticed what’s happening, and it’s not long before a crowd forms nearby. Then Robin moves to drag Franky in for a dance, while Usopp offers a playful arm to a laughing Nami.

Bereft of a partner who might have an idea of what they’re doing but refusing to be left out all the same, Strawhat then tugs Chopper and Jinbe into an arrangement that in no way follows along with the music. Raucous laughter soon mixes with the song, and even Perona can’t help but smile fondly at the crew’s antics.

“I guess I can see why you like them so much.” She murmurs quietly as she and Zoro continue with their perfectly matched steps. “And why you were so desperate to get back to them all.”

“Kuraigana had its moments.” Zoro concedes. “But yeah, it wasn’t home.”

Perona nods, because she can relate, and purses her lips. “I miss it sometimes. In a way it was easier than being out in the world again, and there were days when you and Mihawk weren’t terrible company.”

“Funny, I’m pretty sure you said the opposite literally every day we were there.”

Laughing, Perona swats him in the shoulder, and then laughs even harder when he retaliates by putting her into a spin, after which he dips her right in the middle of the lawn. The angle leaves her staring upside down at the railing in front of the galley, and she peers up at it through the fringe of her hair as she fights to have her giggles subside.

She’s so breathless at first that she doesn’t notice how the last remaining Strawhat has reappeared during the impromptu dance session. It’s only as her gaze keeps traveling along the railing that she realizes Blackleg has come out and is white knuckling the thing as he stares down at his assembled crewmates.

Perona wants to say something, but Zoro chooses this exact moment to haul her back up, reeling her in until she thuds against his chest with a quiet ‘oomph’ before he starts them moving again. 

“Oi, Sanji! Come dance with us!”

Luckily, where she might be slightly indisposed, Strawhat is nothing of the sort. Having caught sight of his cook, the captain waves from where he’s perched on top of Jinbe’s shoulders, his arm moving wildly to get Sanji’s attention.

“Come onnn!” He adds, cupping his hands around his mouth to better help him project. “It’s fun!”

Blackleg’s first response is a brittle smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure it is,” he says in a voice of false cheer. “But it looks like everyone’s occupied, and I’d feel silly dancing by myself.”

Sensing an opportunity, Perona tugs at Zoro until he slows to a halt. “You can have this one.” She calls up, her breathing only now starting to return to normal. “I think I need a break anyway.”

Blackleg and Zoro both sputter, but Strawhat nods as if this idea makes perfect sense. “That works!” He says, and before anyone can tell him otherwise, he stretches out a rubbery limb to grab Blackleg by the collar.

The cook’s irate exclamations do nothing to deter the younger man, such that Blackleg then lands on the lawn with a heavy thump. He bats Strawhat’s hand away as he rights himself, glaring for all he’s worth.

Pleased, Perona wastes no time in shoving Zoro towards him. “Here,” she says, while Brook expertly segues from his current song into something slower. “He’s all yours.”

Both men gape at her, but it’s Blackleg who looks more frazzled. Apparently recognizing for once that he’s got a valid excuse to make something work for himself, Zoro holds out his hand with a pointed look.

“C’mon, Curls.” He says, his words managing to make his offer sound like a dare. “You’re always bragging about being the more cultured one, so why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?”

Grumbling, but refusing to back down, Blackleg gives him a curt nod and accepts his hand. It takes them a moment to work out what’s supposed to go where, but as soon as they’ve sorted themselves out, they start moving across the lawn, perfectly in sync.

Perona watches as a number of the others move to join them, but quickly returns her attention to the cook and the swordsman. The two are keeping to the center of the neatly trimmed grass, and neither of them seem to notice that anyone else is still present, not with the way their gazes are locked on each other anyway.

About to give herself a mental pat on the back, she freezes when Blackleg makes a liar out of her and yanks his eyes away from Zoro. They find her instead, and for one second he looks incredibly, irrevocably guilty.

That expression fades as quickly as it had arrived, however, and then it’s replaced by one of steely-eyed determination. The blond raises his chin defiantly, and gives her a look that all but dares her to say something.

Recognizing an invitation to try and come stake a claim when she sees one, Perona lets out an uncontrolled burst of laughter and has to swipe at her eyes to keep from giggling so hard she starts crying. He’s all yours , she tries to say, raising her hands in a silent surrender. I never wanted him anyway .

Blackleg’s eyes widen, but before he can react further, Zoro chooses this moment to spin him across the impromptu dance floor. His blue eyes snap back to the swordsman’s face, and whatever he sees there must cause any protest to die on his lips.

Still giggling to herself, Perona leans back in her seat and allows the music to continue to wash over her, pleased with a move well played.

*****

They’re due to make landfall sometime the next day when Perona finds herself sitting outside alone on the deck. It’s late enough that most of the Strawhats have turned in for the night, but she finds herself unable to sleep.

To be fair, she had tried going to bed, figuring that she should probably get a good night’s sleep in advance of what was bound to be a busy day. Unfortunately, her thoughts had had other plans, and her constant tossing and turning had no doubt been getting on people’s nerves.

Eventually, she’d given up, which is why she now finds herself sitting on the upper deck in one of the lawn chairs, wrapped in a blanket she’d stolen from the bottom of Zoro’s bunk. Sighing, she tightens said blanket around her, and blinks up at the starry night sky.

She’s pretty sure that Usopp, on watch up in the crow’s nest, is the only other person still awake, and for a single, insane moment, she considers going up and seeing if he’d mind the company. That thought vanishes almost as quickly as it’d appeared, however, and she settles for sighing again instead.

“You do know that’s the only blanket I have, don’t you?” Zoro says suddenly from behind her, and Perona jumps because she hadn’t heard him approaching. 

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to sneak up on people?” She asks snidely, trying in vain to cover up the fact that he’d startled her. “What are you even doing out here?”

He snorts as he steps closer to her chair. “You kicked me like three times when you were getting out of the bunk, and then you took the blanket with you. I’m cold and mildly bruised.”

“Oh please,” Perona scoffs. “You’re so full of shit.”

He shrugs, not denying it. “Maybe,” he says. “But you still haven’t answered my question, why are you here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She replies. “I couldn’t sleep, and I got sick of trying with you and the rest of those goons snoring up a storm around me.”

“It can get pretty bad.” Zoro agrees, but rather than leave it at that, he starts nudging her insistently in her chair. “Move over, would you?”

She considers fighting him on it for a moment, not wanting to seem like she’s capitulating at the drop of a hat, but she must feel worse than she’d realized because her body suddenly lacks the energy to do more than shuffle over until Zoro can drop down onto her seat. Still not saying anything, she then curls up next to him, more in his lap than not.

“ … D’you want to talk about it?” He asks, the words mostly murmured into her hair.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She mumbles back, burrowing tightly into his chest. “I’m fine. I’m just a little maudlin tonight, that’s all. It’ll pass.”

“Probably,” Zoro agrees. “Still … you know you don’t actually have to leave tomorrow, right? No one’s going to care if you keep sailing with us while you figure out what you want to do.”

Perona allows a faint smirk to twist her lips upwards. “Blackleg might.” She says, not bothering to try and hide her resulting snicker.

Zoro huffs. “You know, as nice as it’s been to see you tormenting someone who isn’t me for once, you do realize that you’ve got him about ready to pull his hair out, don’t you?”

“Which was exactly my intention,” Perona confirms. “Either one or both of you needs to pull your heads out of your asses and sort your crap out. I’ve merely been helping speed the process along.”

“Giving Sanji a nervous breakdown is not helping,” Zoro retorts. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s a little high strung.”

“He’s an overdramatic twerp,” Perona replies, albeit somewhat fondly. “He’s lucky he’s pretty and that he cooks like a god.”

“You forgot how strong he is in a fight.” Zoro replies, the dreamy tone in his voice making her want to gag. “And his temper. And - ”

“Yes, yes.” Perona says, cutting him off. She knows from long nights on Kuraigana, one’s that had usually involved enough alcohol to level a small city, that Zoro can waste away an entire evening extolling Blackleg’s virtues if you let him. “He’s the greatest thing since sliced bread, I remember.”

“Mmm.” Zoro hums to himself for a moment, before adding quietly. “I never used to think I had a shot with him.”

And yes, Perona knows that part too. Most of those same nights on Kuraigana had ended on a depressing note, with Zoro reiterating how Blackleg would never want him that way, so what was the point of ever saying anything?

“Looks like the situation wasn’t quite so cut and dry.” She notes, remembering the way she’d suggested as much at the time.

“Looks like.” He agrees, more honest than he might otherwise be since there’s no one else around to hear them.

Or so it seems, anyway. One of her hollows is drifting aimlessly around the deck below them, and it’s giving her the sense that someone might be lurking in the shadows. Intrigued, she considers getting up to take a look, only to stop when Zoro keeps talking. 

“I know you think he’s annoying, but there’s a lot more to him than the fronts he likes to put up.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Perona admits, deciding to allow the identity of the intruder to remain a secret for now. “I’ll deny it if you repeat it, but you’re not the type to let yourself get taken in by a pretty face. There has to be more to him for you to feel the way you do.”

“Rona, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Zoro snickers, the sound only getting worse when she punches him in retaliation.

“You are so not cute.” She sniffs haughtily. “For the record, this is why I’m leaving tomorrow. If I have to spend much more time looking at your ugly face and listening to your stupid jokes, I will literally go insane.”

“Nah, you love me.” Zoro says with confidence. “I’m basically the annoying little brother you never had but secretly wished for.”

“Part of that sentence may have been accurate,” Perona concedes. “Definitely not all of it, though.”

“I’ll take it,” Zoro replies with a shrug. 

*****

Perona doesn’t manage confirm if there was someone lurking on the lower deck that night, but her suspicions reappear the next morning when Blackleg greets her more brightly than he has at any point to date. Granted, this might simply be due to the fact that she’s leaving today, but the flustered look he then proceeds to shoot Zoro’s way suggests otherwise.

Opting to keep that thought to herself, she eagerly tucks into the breakfast that’s been provided for her. If there’s one thing she’s going to miss about her time on the Thousand Sunny , it’s the excellent food, so she’s not about to let her last meal go to waste.

Nami confirms they’re already within sight of the island, and anticipates that they’ll be able to dock by mid morning. She also announces that the log pose is going to need at least a day to reset, which should give the crew ample opportunity to carry out any resupplying they need to do. 

Somehow this leads to Perona accompanying Zoro and his precious cook to the local marketplace where they make their way through Blackleg’s grocery list. Watching them bicker good naturedly from her seat atop the cart they’ve rented, she feels a rush of fondness sweep through her, such that she almost summons a couple hollows to break the spell, and once again finds herself wondering how they’ve both managed to be so blind when it comes to the other’s feelings.

It’s well into the afternoon once all the food has been collected, at which point she realizes she needs to start looking for a place to stay. The Strawhats had been overly willing to supply her with what they could to help her get back on her feet, and the first thing she needs to do is find a hotel she can stay at while looking for passage out of this place.

Zoro mentions having seen one on their travels, but of course he can’t for the life of him figure out how to get back to it. Thankfully, Blackleg takes the lead in order to put them all out of their misery, and a couple of questions to some of the locals soon finds them on the right path.

“Well, it looks fancy enough for your tastes.” Zoro says after Blackleg’s bullied him into helping her out of the cart. 

“It’ll do.” Perona replies, eyeing the large building critically. “Now, let’s go see if they’ve got a room for me, and then you two can help me with my stuff.”

Blackleg’s resulting bow is in direct contrast to Zoro’s pointed eyeroll, and the two of them get into a halfhearted shoving match as she sweeps past them and up to the front doors. They’re still at it as they trail after her across the lobby, and Perona shares a commiserating look with the woman behind the concierge desk.

“I was hoping to inquire about a room.” She says, fixing the woman with her most charming smile. “Don’t worry, though. It’s just for me, and these two lunkheads will not be joining.”

The woman eyes the three pirates skeptically for a moment, before her expression clears and she nods. “He said you’d probably have someone accompanying you when you arrived,” she announces to the confusion of all parties present. “Just give me one second and I’ll get you your key.”

“Come again?” Perona tries, blinking as the woman turns her back on them and begins rooting around a series of hooks that contain multiple keys. “Exactly who said what?”

“He said we weren’t to say.” The woman replies, turning back around and presenting Perona with a key with a flick of her wrist. “Between you and I, I think he’s been having fun acting all mysterious while he’s been staying with us. I mean, it’s not like we all don’t know who he is.”

“Well that certainly sounds ominous.” Blackleg says, frowning down at the key. An unspoken agreement then passes between the three of them, and they step back from the desk to huddle together. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Something hinky.” Zoro replies, one hand already hovering above his swords. “Who thinks this is a trap?”

“I’d say the odds are about fifty/fifty.” Perona decides, then she smiles toothily at the two men. “Lucky for me that I’ve got both you big, strong boys along to protect me, isn’t it?”

Zoro snorts. “Anything comes for me, and I’m using your body as a shield.”

“ Marimo !” Blackleg hisses, and the sound of the kick he lands on Zoro’s thigh echoes around the room. “Don’t talk like that.”

Zoro shoots him an aggrieved look, but rather than retaliate gestures towards the large staircase that leads to the upper floors. “So, are we going up, or are we just getting the hell out of dodge?”

“We’re going up,” Perona decides after taking a moment to think about it. “Because one) this is the only decent hotel on this island and I’ve got to stay somewhere, but also two) I’m genuinely curious to find out what the hell is going on.”

“That’s the kind of logic that makes the witch yell at us when we use it.” Zoro points out with a nod at Blackleg. “Just so you know.”

Ignoring him, Perona starts marching for the staircase. Not wanting to be completely stupid, however, she summons a pair of hollows when she reaches the appropriate floor, letting them drift on ahead of her and reach out with their own senses as she approaches the correct door.

It’s when the hollows start jittering in a frenzy, the motion a clear indication that they recognize the presence on the other side of the door, that she comes to an abrupt halt. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” She says aloud, her aggrieved tone such that Zoro resheahes the sword he’s pulled halfway free from his belt.

“Yeah,” she tells him when she notices this. “I’d keep it there unless you’re in a mood to get your ass kicked under the guise of ‘training’ today.”

Zoro’s eyebrows go up at the same time Blackleg makes a confused noise, but Perona ignores them both in favour of yanking the door open and stomping into the room. “And just what exactly are you doing here?” She asks, standing with her hands planted on her hips. “And would it have killed you to have called beforehand, you overdramatic dunce?”

Unphased in the face of her stunningly articulate wit, Mihawk takes a dainty sip from the cup he’s holding in his pale hands. Given the early hour it’s hopefully tea he’s drinking, but with him one can never be too sure. 

“You’re looking well.” He says finally. His golden eyes flick up and down the length of her body, and if Perona didn’t know any better, she’d almost think he seemed relieved to be able to make this announcement. “I take it the soldiers who’d captured you have been dealt with.”

“And then some.” Zoro confirms, as he comes stalking into the room. “But she asked you a question, old man. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Sighing at his protégé’s vulgarity, Mihawk sets the cup down on the small table in front of him, and crosses one leg over the other. His hat is perched on the back of his chair behind him, while Yoru rests not far away. Based on the sight, Perona’s going to guess that he hasn’t been here long, but she also knows one can never tell where the World’s Greatest is concerned.

“As you may recall,” he begins, his gaze still locked on Zoro, “you’re not the only one who was tracking the Navy’s movements after they picked up Perona. When the news broke of her escaping with your crew’s help, it wasn’t hard to determine which was the next closest island. I then extrapolated from there.”

“That explains the how.” Perona points out. “Not the why.”

Mihawk’s attention lands back on her. “Moria’s still missing.” He says, the barest hint of regret lurking in his tone. “Additionally, I know you have no interest in seeking out the One Piece and all the nonsense such adventuring entails. As such, I thought perhaps you might like to return to traveling with me. At least until Moria can be located.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Zoro lets out a low whistle and nudges her with his elbow. “Looks like the crazy bastard’s going soft in his old age.”

“Zoro, really - ” Mihawk starts, only to pause when Perona holds up a hand. 

“I’ll come with you.” She says when the older man cocks a coal black eyebrow inquisitively. “But only on one condition.”

“That being?”

Perona takes a deep breath. “We’re finding a decent island to go shopping on, and you’re going to let me go absolutely wild with your wallet. I’ve been wearing hand-me-downs for weeks .”

To his credit, Mihawk nods as if this is a perfectly reasonable stipulation. “I see no issue with this,” he says. “In particular as, the longer it takes us to get back to the Cross Guild base of operations, the longer I can spend out of the vicinity of that awful clown.”

“I knew you were going to hate working with him.” Zoro mutters. 

“Regardless,” Mihawk says, clearly not wanting to get into it with him. “You have safely delivered Perona here, which I suppose now makes the two of you even after she got you to Sabaody. I therefore imagine you’ll want to be on your way soon, you and your paramour.”

Zoro and Perona both freeze, and then turn as one to where Blackleg is standing in the open doorway, his expression now that of a spooked animal. Unbothered by this, Mihawk merely nods at the cook. “Lovely to see you again, young man. I do hope your father’s doing well.”

“He means Zeff.” Zoro clarifies when Blackleg’s face congeals. “He’s a big fan of the Baratie .”

“The cuisine is impeccable.” Mihawk agrees. “And I also admire the way Redleg has no issue in bludgeoning a man to death for poor manners.”

“Cook does that too.” Zoro says approvingly. 

“Most excellent.”

“Wow, okay.” Perona pipes up, needing to end this interaction as quickly as possible. “I think that’s enough out of you freaks for a little while. Zoro, he’s right, you and Blondie there should probably be getting back to the Sunny , and I want to get my affairs sorted out.”

“Your affairs,” Zoro replies mockingly, oofing when she elbows him in the side. “Alright, alright. Fine. C’mere then.”

She allows the one-armed hug he gives her with minimal grace, before returning it with one of her own. “Be more careful this time.” He adds sternly. “I can only chase after you so often.”

“This coming from a man who almost dies every other week by punching above his weight class,” Perona retorts. “Remember, I read the newsreels.”

“And the key word there was ‘almost’,” Zoro counters. “I mean it, Rona. Take care of yourself. Also, don’t kill Mihawk in his sleep if he gets too annoying. I refuse to get his title that way.”

“I guess that’s fair.” Perona says, and then turns to Blackleg.

The blond’s cheeks are still tinted a splotchy red, a fact that gets even worse when she smirks at him. “I don’t suppose that was you hovering around the lower deck last night, was it?” She asks, knowing she’s right when his blush gets even worse. “Good. Come here then?”

“Eh?” Blinking in confusion, the man gives her a strange look as she approaches him. “Did you need something?”

“Just to give you a little clarification,” Perona says, grinning at him in a way that makes him take a step back. “You’re not awful, and I’ve decided he could do worse. Having said that, if you fuck it up, there’s nowhere on land or sea where you’ll be safe from my hollows. Got it?”

“Got it.” Blackleg says, his words almost drowned out by Zoro’s embarrassed groan.

“Don’t be rude.” Perona tells the mortified swordsman. “I’m looking out for you.” 

“Yeah, well, on that note, we’re leaving. C’mon, Curls. I need to get you out of here before these two do even more damage.” Brushing past Perona on his way, Zoro grabs Blackleg by the arm and starts dragging him from the room, all while the other man squawks at the abrupt manhandling. “Bye, Rona. Don’t do anything stupid, like getting caught by the marines again.”

“It was one time!” Perona tells his retreating back, and then, because they’re still hovering in the room and it’s not like she’s going to get another opportunity anytime soon, she sends her hollows chasing after him into the hallway.

“Serves him right.” She sniffs when the sound of Zoro’s disgruntled whining mixed with Blackleg’s faint snickers reaches her ears. “Honestly, he’s lucky I waited this long.”

“No doubt,” Mihawk replies, as unperturbed as ever. In fact, a thoughtful look now crosses his face. “I wonder how well your creatures would work on Crocodile and Buggy.”

Perona sniffs again. “I'm willing to find out, but only if you promise to protect me when they get mad.”

“Of course.” The ex-Warlord replies, inclining his head. “Then, shall we go? The Hitsugibune is docked not far from here, so we can leave at any time.”

“Not happening,” Perona announces. “I’m not passing up a chance to sleep in a real bed or to dine at fine establishments. I’m especially not doing it in favor of immediately climbing onboard that coffin you call a ship. I need a little ‘me time’ first. You have no idea what sacrifices I’ve made over the past few weeks to help that idiot pull his head out of his ass.”

Mihawk sighs, but makes no move to get up and leave like previously suggested. “I have no doubt you’ll tell me all about it. Whether I want you to or not.”

“Oh stop it.” Perona rolls her eyes. “You know you missed me.”

“I know no such thing.” Mihawk retorts, but Perona’s spent enough time with him over the years to be able to tell when he’s lying.

Grinning suddenly, she marches over to the table he’s sitting at and settles herself into the chair across from his. “Just wait until you hear all the gossip I have for you.” She says, propping her elbows over the linen tablecloth and resting her chin in her hands. “Zoro’s crush on that silly cook was even more obvious with the two of them together. I was forced to take drastic measures for the sake of my sanity.”

“You mean you decided to amuse yourself.” Mihawk translates, correctly as it happens.

“I did him a favor.” Perona nevertheless insists, and then immediately launches into her side of the story. “So, it started like this … ”