Chapter Text
The last time Zoro went to bed on an empty stomach was the night before they found the Baratie. He remembered that night vividly for some reason. Usopp couldn’t catch any fish, and Nami was freaking out about all their rations being in the voidless pit of Luffy’s stomach. Off in the corner with his eyes closed, Zoro sat and listened to their panicking, not worried in the slightest. He used to fast all the time, pretending that it was part of his training when really he was short on money in between bounties. Starvation was not a stranger to him.
Until Sanji joined the crew.
While Zoro would never admit it, Sanji’s cooking resurrected him in more ways than one. After a hot morning training, Zoro would wander into the galley and find a cold glass of freshly juiced oranges and a plate packed with protein and carbs and whatever else Sanji had felt like cooking. Those days of growling guts and exhausted muscles became foreign to him. Everytime the sun would set, Zoro would expect the smell of roasting sea kings and the rest of the crew scrambling to get to the kitchen. It became a comfortable routine.
A shock of bright light blinded his eyes, making him flinch away. The jangling of keys hooked on a belt rattled his already hazy brain. Where was he again? Oh, yeah. Imprisoned in the bottom of some marine ship. Definitely not stuffing his face with a delicious dinner.
Zoro couldn’t remember what had happened. Bits and pieces would come back to him, but the overall scope of it was lost. All he knew were the thick chains around his wrists and ankles and the excruciating flash of light directed right into his eyes. And the fact he didn’t eat dinner last night.
“You up?”
Zoro grunted, and the light turned off. Blinking away the spots, he eyed the crouching marine in front of him. It was a young guy, probably close to his age. He showed no anger nor satisfaction. Instead, he stood and swiftly left the chamber, only to return a moment later with another marine of higher status.
This new marine was haughty and smug. His grin showed all his teeth, and Zoro couldn’t believe how ugly that smile made him look.
“Where are my swords?” Zoro demanded.
“In a closet somewhere,” the marine shrugged. “That should be the least of your concerns right now. You’re dealing with a General right now.”
Zoro spat at the General’s shoes, which were clearly freshly polished, shining in the minimal light of the dungeon. The General’s sneer dropped, and he instantly stomped hard on Zoro’s own leg, making him draw back in pain. Already his body was bruised from before. Zoro was now slowly regaining memory of it: a spiked drink and a bar fight. He had downed a barrel of booze, ignoring the funny, odd taste of it, and had knocked into another intoxicated guy looking for a fight. Their quarrel attracted nearby marines, and whatever Zoro had consumed left him completely helpless to his capture, which had never happened to him before. Well, the drugged part had never happened to him. Something must have distracted him.
“You’re never leaving this cell,” the General said, “unless you tell us everything you know about Monkey D. Luffy.”
“Not gonna happen.”
Something revolting spread across the General’s face, his pure loathing for Zoro put on full display. The corner of his lip twitched into a sinister curl.
“Then prepare to rot.”
If Zoro had known what he would endure later, maybe he would have responded differently. He was loyal to Luffy, yes, but he was still human. His body needed food and water and time to heal, all of which the marines did not provide him with, but regardless of his urges to beg for another piece of dried jerky or cup of water, he never folded. He took every leftover ration impassively. He savored those bland meat slices that were thrown onto a plate and slid across the cell floor. He took every torturous beating the marines felt like dealing out. Every interrogation ended with blood stains because Zoro never said a word.
Time became irrelevant. Zoro was never the best at counting, so he gave up on keeping track after the first two days. The rest of the Strawhats would find him eventually, so all he had to do was wait. Zoro was good at waiting. Patience was his specialty.
He slept through most of it. Once his fresh cuts stopped stinging, his exhausted mind wouldn’t have the energy to acknowledge his empty stomach. Naps came easier, and the dreams were an easy escape.
After all, he was dreaming when the crew finally found him. While Luffy was rocket launching marines across the ocean above, Zoro was dreaming of his childhood dojo below. The blurry memories of wooden floors and swords breezed through his mind, and the only thing that could possibly wake him from that were those jangling keys. Eyes flying open, Zoro instinctively jerked against the chains, terror coursing through him once more. He didn’t think his body could handle another beating.
“Stop moving,” the General barked. He grabbed hold of Zoro’s forearm and shoved a key into the cuff, urgently unlocking it along with the rest of the locks. “We’re relocating.”
The bareness of his ankles and wrists were unfamiliar; Zoro found himself frozen in place. He should’ve been fighting back, now that he wasn’t tied down, but at that moment, he was almost brain dead. Just standing up with help from the Generall took an incredible amount of effort.
But then he heard a laugh. It was Luffy’s laugh, loud and giddy and the most relieving sound Zoro had ever heard.
Following that was an insulting shout, one that Zoro had received too many times whenever he raided the galley at night.
“Marimo!”
Zoro shoved the General out of the way and made a break for the open door. It was a miracle his legs could even carry him, but then again, there wasn’t much to carry anymore. Zoro ran straight into the wall, disorientated and frantic with the General’s angry yells chasing him close behind. He drove his shoulder against the ship for support as he limped down the hall but was easily tossed around by the boat’s swaying from the battle on the upper deck. His throat burned with every breath and his eyes could not focus on a goddamn thing.
The General caught hold of his arm and yanked him back, but Zoro was so close to freedom. With tooth and nail, Zoro at last fought back, but the wrestling only lasted a couple seconds since the General got the side of his head caved in by a shiny black shoe. The General’s body flew into the wall from impact, completely demolishing it and leaving a gaping hole.
Zoro swayed on his feet with blood dripping from all over his body. Old wounds had reopened, and barely through his wincing eye could he see Sanji with his flaming foot raised in the air and the most horrified expression Zoro had ever seen.
“Oh my God,” Sanji said, staring at Zoro’s protruding ribs. “What…”
Sanji trailed off, unable to look away from Zoro’s condition, but he was forced back into the task at hand since Zoro’s unbelievably light body collapsed straight into his own.