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“We can’t make God angry! It’s common sense, you know!”
“Sorry, but…I’ve never once prayed to God.”
Zoro said it because he meant it, not just because of the way that Chopper’s eyes had shone as Nami sighed in defeat.
Sometimes, a god was just a snake. Or only another ordinary man who had eaten an extraordinary fruit, but still found defeat at Luffy’s hands.
It wasn’t some deliberate act of defiance, not really, and it definitely wasn’t blasphemy. It was just that nothing Zoro had seen in his life had proven the existence of a god, or gods, and Zoro was a man who only believed in the things he could see. Were there strange things in the world? Sure. But nothing that couldn’t be explained by nature or human ingenuity.
He’d seen a train run on water—a train designed and built by people with a dream and a vision.
He’d seen his captain stretch and bend in unnatural ways. Hell, every devil fruit user seemed to defy reality in one way or another, but their abilities were the product of fruits—literal fruits, growing on trees or bushes, and there was nothing in the mere existence of strange food to suggest the presence of a higher power.
Zoro had watched Dracule Mihawk rend an entire fleet in a single stroke, and he had done so with the power of his skill alone, his blade turned black by his prowess in Haki. Training had made him the strongest, and to suggest anything else had a role in it was a disservice to the work he had put into his body and his sword.
Franky had a body that ran on cola because he had built it. Robin could read the strange markings carved into poneglyphs because she’d researched them.
There was nothing that couldn’t be explained by science, or nature, or passion. If any gods existed, wouldn’t they have left their mark on the world? Wouldn’t they have made something—done something—worthy of being worshiped above all the humans who did remarkable things without needing godhood for their accomplishments?
Wouldn’t Kuina still be alive?
Zoro didn’t believe in any gods, simple as that.
But then he looked up through the film of his own blood in his eyes, aching, forced on his back in the rubble of Onigashima, and he saw Luffy.
He saw him manifested as the brightest light in the sky. Brighter than the stars on a clear night. Brighter than the gleam of a sharpened blade. Brighter than the sun itself.
His Captain. His Luffy.
And for the first time in his life, Zoro struggled to explain something with anything less than an admission of the divine.
“Zoro’s staring again.”
There was no accusation in Luffy’s tone as Zoro quickly cut his eyes away, just curiosity.
When Zoro indicated his disinterest in giving any reply, or explanation, Luffy stretched into his space, cocking his head so close to Zoro’s own that Zoro’s eyes crossed in an attempt to bring him into focus.
”Why?”
Zoro felt his face grow hot, and he chose to attribute it to whatever change Luffy had undergone during the battle at Onigashima. At this proximity, the warmth of him was overpowering.
”Wasn’t staring,” Zoro grunted, arms crossed over his chest as he looked down toward the deck of the ship.
“Were too,” Luffy countered. He let his neck snap back to his shoulders, then crossed the room to join Zoro on the bench in the crow’s nest before repeating his question, “How come?”
Zoro wasn’t sure how to answer.
If he was being honest with himself, he’d been avoiding Luffy lately. It was easy for a bit, with both of them recovering from their extensive injuries, and then celebrating with their allies and the natives of Wano. But now it was just the ten of them on the Sunny again, and every time that Luffy was around, Zoro couldn’t help but look.
He knew what he had seen, and he’d asked enough questions of the others who had been there to confirm it.
It was Luffy, but…it wasn’t.
Zoro had been there from the very beginning. He’d seen the initial development of Luffy’s so-called “gears” and had been impressed by what they added to Luffy’s combat prowess. But with Gear One through Gear Four, he had still been Luffy. A redder, steamier Luffy. A bigger, and then much smaller Luffy. A bouncier Luffy with Haki visible on his inflated limbs. But still: Luffy, Luffy, always Luffy.
When Zoro had asked during the celebration, after a few tankards of beer, “What happened up there on the roof? What happened to you?” Luffy had only lifted an eyebrow, then with understanding dawning in his eyes and through a mouthful of meat, he had announced, “Gear Five!” and that was that.
Only, it wasn’t enough for Zoro, because he’d been hearing the whispers.
Nika, they called him. The sun god.
Joyboy. The legendary hero.
That bright, white figure up on the roof had Luffy’s scars, but not the warm brown of his eyes. Not his dark, tousled hair. Not a soft, tender smile for his first crewmate—his swordsman, his first mate, his Zoro—but a stark white grin, splitting apart to release a laugh that rolled through the air like a drumbeat.
Zoro didn’t understand it, and because he didn’t understand it, it frightened him. It was Luffy, he told himself, but…was it?
That strange being—that personification of Luffy’s joy, and resolve, and tenacity—was it really still him?
Still his Captain?
Still his Luffy?
Zoro looked over to meet Luffy’s inquisitive gaze, and the longer he stared, the more he felt sure that something had changed. That something was, to his horror and dismay, different.
Zoro shrugged, Luffy frowned, and that was that.
Every day, Zoro worked to become stronger. He added extra weight to his exercises, more reps, more time spent in the crow’s nest with his swords and a barbell. More time hiding from his own thoughts, and from Luffy’s incessant prodding.
He would wake each morning with his muscles sore and aching in protest of the added exertion, but still, Zoro persisted. There were things about Luffy’s new powers that he didn’t understand, but what he did understand was that his captain had grown stronger, and that meant that Zoro needed to grow stronger too.
He refused to let himself fall behind. He refused to become anything less than worthy of remaining at Luffy’s side.
With his blades sharpened and polished, Zoro fought at Luffy’s side. They repelled bold pirates and daring bounty hunters from the Sunny’s deck, Luffy’s sandals pounding out a rhythm like a drum beat as he stretched and struck and laughed.
When Zoro brandished Enma and Sandai Kitetsu, their gleam caught the light from Luffy’s grin, sending it in scattered fragments that rivaled the shine of the sun above them. With its rays framing Luffy in their glow, the sun offered him a halo, and Zoro was reminded once again of the whispers he’d heard on Wano.
The Sun God.
Zoro’s grip tightened on his swords.
A god. A god. Zoro didn’t know what to think anymore, but Zoro did know Luffy.
He knew how Luffy’s fingertips burned when they touched his skin, and how the heat lingered long after he’d gone. He’d seen the way that his lips curled back around the glint of his teeth when he grinned, and wished that he could feel their harsh, clumsy clack against his own.
There was no other explanation, as much as Zoro wanted to find something rooted in reason and logic, because if Luffy had become a god, then who the hell could Zoro be to him anymore? A worshiper prostrated at his feet, basking in his glow as he prayed for the darkness of his own soul to be banished in Luffy’s light. It was too much to want. Too much to ask for.
“Zoro! Behind!”
Luffy’s voice rang clear through Zoro’s muddled thoughts, drawing his attention back to the fight as he ducked beneath an enemy’s fist.
Luffy skidded to a halt beside him, fists raised, body angled to keep his eyes on Zoro’s back as he offered Zoro his own. There were wisps of clouds beginning to circle Luffy’s limbs, such a pure white that rather than casting a shadow over Luffy’s light, they amplified it, sending it skittering in rainbow kaleidoscopes across the deck as he moved.
Zoro met Luffy’s stare, his wide eyes beginning to bleed into red at the edges, and Zoro was startled to see his reflection in Luffy’s gaze. Not his physical form, but a mirror of every confused desire that Zoro had been battling ever since Luffy freed him, and declared Zoro a part of his crew. Feelings that he had recently begun to doubt, because surely it was folly to allow yourself to fall in love with…with a…
“Ready?”
Luffy grinned, awe and adoration and trust on his features, and Zoro steeled himself with a nod.
Zoro had never believed in gods before, but he had believed in Luffy fiercely and without question from the first moment he crashed his way into Zoro’s life.So if Luffy wasn’t just his Captain, and his love, but a god…then maybe Zoro could start believing in them too.
“Ready, Captain.” His teeth bared around Wado Ichimonji’s hilt, his smile as savage as Luffy’s was joyous; a demon at the side of a god reborn. “Let’s show ‘em who they decided to mess with.”