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ayeathelas · 8 months

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[prologue. fortress inquisitorius (the three letter word)] saudade - Star Wars Fanfiction

(UPDATED: 8/15/23)

Gal hasn't heard the Force speak to her for a long, long time. It nudges from time to time. Hints. But that's it. Today, it seeps into her flesh and makes her joints want to groan. And when she turns her head to look at her brother, a deep ache envelopes her being. Ghostly echoes of future mourning and bitterness are whittled off, dancing around her like sparks from a blistering fire.

He smiles when he sees her face, and it immediately twists into concern when she casts her gaze aside.

"Don't smile," she snaps, pushing the table away from her as she gets up from her seat. "It'll get you killed."

"It hasn't yet," he says with a sardonic tone in his voice. Yet.

Gal and Kalen both know the implications of that word. The purgatory and hell it holds in those three measly letters, Schrödinger's dilemma. They haven't died yet. Just like how they haven't yet been initiated as Inquisitors, haven't yet been forced to pay the price for power. But they knew a thing or two about sacrifice, and they were considered as the Eleventh and Twelfth Inquisitors, and they were as good as dead.

"Hey," Kalen interrupts, his stupid brown hair sticking up everywhere. Gal has to repress the urge to smooth it down and tuck the curls behind his ears. "We're okay, right? So don't worry about it."

"About what?" she asks, flicking her braid from its spot on her shoulder.

He rolls his eyes. Don't play dumb. "You know. Whatever's eating up your mind. The thing you're scared of."

No, they weren't Inquisitors yet, and were diseased with that innocence that plagued the Rebel legions, the sickness of hope. It was almost as bad as yet.

Gal stiffens like a board, raising her chin in the air. "I'm not scared of anything."

Kalen snorts. "And we're not Inquisitors."

The Force tinkles with laughter, and each bell ringing hurts like cracks and fissures in her bones.

Yet.

She feels it before the others do. The urgenturgenturgentdistresshelp throbs in her head before he has the chance to wake everyone up. And she bolts out of bed, sweaty, scratchy sheets flipped aside, not stopping to close the door to her room.

When she bursts in, Kalen's eyes flood open, and his chest is heaving, drowning in air. Drops of sweat cling to the curls pasted on his forehead, and the back of his head is soaked.

She holds him gently. Breathe with me, she seeps into his head, and the tendrils of her being intertwine with his like two hands clasping each other. He gasps, his shaking hands searching for hers, and Gal can feel his heart racing at a million miles, threatening to burst out of his chest.

Scaredfeardistress slips out from his walls.

Breathe, she repeats, inhaling deeply for one, two, three, four counts, holding it for seven. Exhale, for eight. She presses her forehead against his. Safe, she spills out, forcing every bit of warmth and peace she has to offer (it's not much, and it leaves her cold) to pour into her brother. You are safe.

One last exhale. "Gal," he whispers, voice hoarse and full of sleepy gunk.

"I've got you," she returns, clutching her baby brother (okay, maybe not so baby) closer to her chest, combing her fingers through his hair.

The Force weighs heavily in the room. It's an odd feeling, for it to be so vocal after being silent for so long. Gal wishes it would just shut up and leave her alone, like it used to. Concepts were not supposed to talk.

"You feel it too," Kalen says in between pants, staring deep into her eyes. "That oppressive, looming darkness."

Gal's eyes flash a deep yellow. "We do not need to fear darkness, Kalen," she says in a hushed, nearly programmed snip. "We are its masters."

"Not like that," he says, shaking off her hand and sitting upright. His shirt is clinging to his skin, riddled with goosebumps and raised hairs, scars and burns painted underneath. "The Force," he whispers again, pale blue eyes saturating with a darker hue. "It showed me something."

"A vision?"

"There was a Jedi. I— he—"

"The Jedi are dead, Kalen," she seethes, getting up and straightening the tussled sheets on the bed.

"Then why do we still hunt for them?" he demands, leaning forward.

"So that they stay dead."

Kalen flinches back, like he's touched the fiery flames of his sister's anger. He breathes deep, chest rising and falling, before trying again. "I know what I saw, Gal. The Jedi are still out there," he insists, gesturing with his hands. "His eyes— it looked like he was trying to ask me something."

"Yeah," Gal snorts, throwing the sheets over her brother and tucking him in. "To spare his life. His mistake."

Kalen's face morphs into an utterly dejected expression, and Gal resists the temptation to pat his head like a puppy's.

"Go to sleep. And put your damned shields up, for once. You nearly woke up the entire floor."

She slips out the door, the sliver of light from the hallway waning as it slides shut, leaving Kalen in the stifling darkness.

The sheets are scratchy and too hot. Pins and needles shoot through his feet, and he can feel his hands itch with sweat. And yet, above the overstimulation and sensory overload, the darkness sits in the room, like water in a saturated sponge.

"I can feel you," he whispers, reaching out into the vast pools of the Force that surround him. "I heard you."

Listen, it implores, tangling into his threads. And obey.

Outside, Gal slides down against the wall, clutching her head in her hands and resting them on her knees. It throbs and aches, sharp stabs of pain relentlessly attacking the back of her cranium. She feels the Force, feels it trying to reach the core of her being and leave behind a fingerprint.

Leave, she commands, wringing it out from the crevices and crannies of her mind. But it pools up around her, creeping up her fingers and shoulder until it reaches her ear and whispers.

Not yet.

Morning came soon enough, but the events of the previous night had unsettled Gal deeply. The Force had never been this vocal to her, let alone her little brother.

"You were right to come to me with this," the Grand Inquisitor answers, after the heavy pause following her recollection. The Pau'an's face is as pale as the face of a dead man, blood-red facial markings contrasting his complexion. His eyes, a piercing yellow, do not betray his expression. His serious face is set in stone.

Her brother's weakness would be corrected immediately, or exploited, depending on how useful this sudden connection would be to the Inquisitorius. But she is sure of one thing— the Grand Inquisitor will not feel pity for her brother, and nor will he offer any mercy or sympathy. Suddenly, Gal feels like she's sealed her brother's fate.

"What's to happen to him?" she interjects, the breath in her lungs freezing to ice in anticipation.

"I imagine it would be useful to... inquire of the Twelfth and ask him to reveal what he has foreseen. However, it would be best to prevent any potential situations that could distract him from our task."

Oh, his fate was very clear, indeed. Interrogation, or some kind of a mission was in line for him.

"If I may ask," she continues boldly, "what did you have in mind, sir?"

The Pau'an is quiet for a moment, before turning and facing Gal. "We have received word of a suspected Jedi on the planet of Bracca. As of now, the Second and the Ninth sisters have been tasked with retrieving him. I believe it would be best for the Twelfth brother to accompany them."

A mission was less dangerous than a torture and interrogation session. There'd be a smaller chance of him accidentally revealing anything self-incriminating in nature, and perhaps it would even put to rest whatever falsehood the Force had stirred up in him regarding the Jedi.

"I will have this information relayed to your brother," he continues, turning away. "He is to leave for Bracca tonight."

"Yes, Grand Inquisitor."

Her brother would survive. He was not dead.

Yet.

"Are you ready?" she asks as they stand out on the platform, busy people making their way around them as they finish filling the ship up with supplies.

Kalen is not quite there that night, half caught between a glimpse of what awaited him and a painful thought, by the expression on his face.

"Do you—" he says suddenly, bowing his head nervously. "Do you think I'm cut out for this Inquisitor thing? At all?"

Gal is taken aback. Where the hell was this coming from?

"It's a little too late to speculate," she attempts soothingly, brushing off his dark uniform and pulling on his collar to straighten it out. "Especially considering that you're one official promotion away from being fully accepted as one." She dusts off his shoulders, holding them gently as their eyes meet. "This is your chance," she whispers. "Take it."

He nods absentmindedly, the tousled curls obscuring his forehead bouncing from the motion. He takes a quick look at his surroundings, drinking them in one last time before covering them with his black helmet.

She reaches out and grabs his hand, squishing it once before letting it go. Kalen turns and walks up the ramp, cape trailing behind him.

As the workers announce the ship's imminent departure and the ramp retreats and the doors slide shut, Gal suddenly feels like this is the last time she will see her brother for a while.

Let him go, the Force whispers. Let him go.

I am no Jedi. I do not need to let go.

Let him go, it says more firmly. He will return.

Gal hasn't listened to the Force speak to her for a long, long time. But maybe... just maybe...

Gal Gadral will listen to the Force just for this once.

[SAUDADE masterlist]

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #star wars fanfic #cal kestis #multichapter #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3fic #fanfiction #original characters

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ayeathelas · 8 months

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'star wars'? there's only one star war, it's just very, very long

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ayeathelas · 8 months

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i will never be able to watch mob psycho again…

i thought it was about mafia people 🤦‍♀️ and then i saw the first episode and was so confused 😅

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ayeathelas · 8 months

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[Chapter 6: Call in the Cavalry] Lost - One Piece and Naruto Crossover

(UPDATED: 8/12/2023)

The villagers meet in a dark room early that morning, shutters closed and doors shut. A pile of papers lies on the round table in front of them, stained with wet marks and dirt. The room has been silent since they were presented, and they all stand around them with expressions of shock fixed upon their faces.

A righteous fury burns through Pino. A fist slams on the table. "That bastard," he growls. "He's been stealing our money for this?"

The villagers eye Zoro as he stands, leaning against the wall. No one dares ask what the imposing man is doing at this meeting, although curious glances flicker to see his reactions.

"What are we going to do?" a man asks, anger set in the space between his brows. A clenched fist hangs at his side, the other crushing one of the flyers in his hand.

"What can we do?" another retorts, twitching nervously. "Kaizuko's too strong. He'd wipe the floor with us if we tried anything."

A woman pulls at the hair on her head. "We've got to do something!" she shouts as she stands to her feet, a wild and pleading look in her eyes. "Please, my children are starving!"

"Mine too," a portly woman adds on, and a chorus of agreement rumbles in the room.

"Settle down," the village leader says, trying to contain the rising tension in the room. "I understand your concern, but we can't interfere! We must not interfere," he repeats emphatically. "We don't have the numbers or the means to do so."

"Is it better to starve than to try?" A woman shoves one of the seats at the table to the side, and the people wince at the way the legs grate against the floor. ("Mechi!" an older woman exclaims, grabbing her arm, trying to calm her down.) "We're going to die out anyways." A chorus of murmurs agree. "We don't have enough money to pay for our freedom. And whatever we do have will be taken from us, be it money or belongings or our children!" she says, spitting the words out, looking at the others through creased brows. "At least give us our dignity."

"Your deaths will mean nothing!" the leader shouts, his chest rising and falling heavily with frustration. The room stills and all eyes flicker to the head of the table. "Can't you see? Kaizuko will have his men decimate us. It doesn't matter how many of us decide to fight." He glances around the room, his eyes softening with sorrow as he sees the resignation in the dozens of faces around him. "We will die. And our children will be left to pay the price."

Much goes unsaid but understood. If the adults cannot pay the tax, how could children ever wish to? No one wanted to subject their children to such a future, where the worry of money would take the innocence of youth. But the truth was clear. They would starve to death or die fighting.

Pino stares at the flyer in his hands. The ink has bled through the paper, seeping out into sharp puddles that have dried into stains. His stomach curls, twisting into knots at the thought that his daughter would never know what it would be like to live a peaceful life, one without the worries of warlords and taxes and where tomorrow's meal would come from. His fist crumbles with defeat. The village is powerless.

Zoro straightens from his spot and walks forward. The villagers part with apprehension when they see the dark shadow cast over his face, shifting to make room for him as he makes his way to the center of the room.

"So," he begins, a grave tone in his voice. His arms are spread on the table, and he glances down at the damning evidence before them. "What's the plan?"

"We can try contacting one of the hidden villages," the angry man suggests, crossing his arms. "I know we don't have much, but if we can pool together enough money, we can ask for them to send a squad."

"Who would we contact?" the leader asks, a hint of interest in his voice. "Konoha? Or Kiri?

"Konoha is a wiser option," a woman in the back pipes up. "More affordable. Also, this'll end with fewer casualties."

The leader nods. "Mechi," he asks the outspoken woman, "how long do you think we have before Kaizuko will strike?"

"I estimate about three days," she says firmly. "We can get the letter to Konoha in two, maybe one if our messenger is fast."

An itch settles in Pino's chest, and the air buzzes with something electrifying. They have a chance. He knows that the other villagers in the room wouldn't dare to say it, but a look that resembles hope threatens to form on their faces.

"I'll take it," a small voice says from one of the corners of the room. A young boy (who seemed to be nearing his teens) steps closer to the center, with his chest puffed out (and his trembling fists at his sides). "I'm a fast runner," he argues, "and I know the way."

"If Kaizuko's men catch you with that," Pino says slowly, his eyes meeting the younger's, "you'll be charged with treason. That means execution."

The boy freezes, but steels himself and gives a small, panicked laugh. "Well, we're gonna die anyways, right?" Pino's heart sinks at the feigned carefree expression on his face. "Might as well try to save those we can."

Zoro turns his head towards the boy, raising his eyebrows. He tips his head in his direction. The boy had guts, that was for sure.

"Then it's settled," the leader says, giving the boy a finalizing nod. "Young Beni will take our request to Konoha. Until then, we must prepare for the worst."

The mornings were peaceful enough in the village when there weren't warlords walking about, stirring up trouble.

Zabuza was sharpening his sword outside of Pino's house. So what if this Kaizuko guy had figured out that Zabuza was a wanted man? He'd be damned if he'd let that pig kill him. He ran off, squealing behind his men yesterday, so he wasn't a real threat to him.

The village was oddly quiet, with a few children running about here and there, but for the most part, Zabuza was content with the silence. It meant fewer questions, and fewer looks. And that was alright in his book.

Haku was perched above him, on the roof. His piercing gaze scanned their surroundings, but something about him seemed tired and lethargic to Zabuza, which made something in his chest tighten.

"Did it snow or somethin'?" he asks, breaking the silence. The cobbled ground was littered with flyers everywhere.

"I suppose it did," Haku says, a yawn obscuring his words.

"What?"

"I said, it sure looks like it," he clarifies, leaning back against the roof.

"Hm."

The sound of stone grating along metal fills the air as they fall into comfortable quiet. Haku remains watchful, but the exhaustion of the night and this whole trip, quite frankly, is getting to him. The morning chill settles in his arms, and he finds himself falling into a semi-awake state.

Zabuza seems to be deep in thought, and Haku can tell that something is itching at him.

"You talked to Zoro," he finally says, eyes focused on the sword before him.

"I did," Haku agrees, feeling the fog settle around his body.

Zabuza takes in a breath as he tries to figure out what to say. "I don't trust him," he mutters, his voice low and tinged with a hint of annoyance.

Haku shifts slightly, his breath puffing out in clouds. "I understand, Zabuza-sama," he replies quietly, choosing his words carefully. "But there's something about him. He's not like the others we've encountered."

Zabuza grunts, not entirely satisfied with the vague response, but he understands that Haku is loyal, even if it's born out of a different kind of bond. "Hmph. You like him, don't you?" The words are more an observation than a question.

A subtle pause hangs in the air before Haku answers, "I find him intriguing, skilled as a swordsman, and with a sense of honor I haven't seen often."

Zabuza's eyes narrow as he glances at Haku. "Don't get attached, Haku. He's a bounty hunter. They're all the same, driven by their own interests. We can't afford to let our guard down."

Haku yawns again, covering his mouth with his hand. "I believe in him, Zabuza-sama. I've seen enough in my life to recognize sincerity when I see it. Zoro has that, even if his origin is questionable. I just... I think we should give him a chance. We don't have many allies, and he could be a valuable one."

Zabuza grumbles. Haku's words hold some weight, but he's not going to admit it. Maybe he's right, and Zoro is just another self-sacrificing idiot with a death wish. But the threat of him selling them out was all too real. "We'll keep an eye on him, but we can't afford to let your emotions cloud your judgment. Trust is a dangerous thing."

Haku's eyes, although weary, carry a hint of determination as he gazes down at Zabuza. "Maybe it's not about affording, but about what kind of world we want to create, what kind of people we want to be, Zabuza-sama."

Zabuza turns away, a gruff dismissal of the sentiment, but there's a contemplative weight in his actions. Haku's words hang in the air, like the chill that has begun to gradually turn warmer as the sun rises higher.

"What do you think about Kaizuko?" Haku asks, his tone measured, as if seeking Zabuza's assessment of the situation.

Zabuza grunts, a hint of irritation in his tone. "He's just another warlord. They're all the same, exploiting the weak, claiming territory for their own gain."

Haku tilts his head back, observing the clouds moving through the sky. "The villagers live in fear," he states plainly. "All their money goes to him, and he squanders it by gambling it away. It's unjust."

Zabuza's eyes narrow, but he keeps his eye on the Kubikiribocho. "Unjust? In our line of work, justice is a luxury, Haku. We're mercenaries, not saviors. We take jobs, finish them, and move on. This isn't our fight."

Haku sighs, lifting his head upright and looking down at Zabuza. "It's hard to ignore."

The grating stops, and Zabuza lifts the sword, turning it in the sunlight, seeking any non-existing blunt spots, before sheathing it.

"We're not heroes, Haku," he says, tone resigned with a touch of bitterness. "We're tools, weapons for hire. This isn't about ideals or changing the world. It's about survival and power. Right or wrong, it doesn't matter. We have our mission. And it doesn't include getting involved in the affairs of every backwater village."

Haku's gaze remains fixed on the village, a thoughtful silence hanging between them for a moment before he speaks again. "Understood, Zabuza-sama. I'll follow your lead, as always."

The silence returns, but this time, it's different. It's not just the absence of noise; it's a space for thoughts to linger, for ideas to take root, and for a hardened warrior to maybe, just maybe, consider a different path, if only for a moment.

To make a long story short, Beni made it. It had taken him two days, a night, and a kind man with a horse and cart to get there, but he had managed to make it to Konoha. While the boy took a much-needed rest at the village, a squad of shinobi set out on their next mission.

Kurogane Mitsuhiro is their Jonin sensei. Tall and muscular, his build is a testament to his rigorous training as a Jonin and his dedication to physical fitness. Mitsuhiro was an adamant believer in the importance of teamwork, something that had both been a curse and a blessing for his students (who quickly learned that being part of a team meant sharing their successes as well as their failures). They found him to be stern and heavy on discipline, but a decent sensei who had earned their respect early on. Although, at this point, he had taken a step back and had begun to allow his students to take missions on their own. After all, they were Chunin, and nearly ready for the responsibilities of what the Jonin rank held for them.

Yamanaka Kenzo acts as the team leader. He wears his long, brown hair in a ponytail, and has an earing on his left ear. Though not a part of the main family, Kenzo has been trained in the mind arts. He's shown to have a knack for intelligence gathering. His analytical and calm approach made him the ideal choice for a squad leader, and he's not one to freeze up in the middle of the action.

Nara Hiroto is Kenzo's best friend, serving as the tactical analyst for the group. Like most Naras, Hiroto sports a head of dark hair and what seems to be a permanent slouch. His laid-back attitude helps him see situations with a clear head, and his advice hasn't led his team astray yet.

Tanaka Aya completes the trio, serving as their medic. Aya finds herself being the emotional support of the group often, having a good listening ear. Having not grown up in a clan, she experienced many setbacks in her career as a shinobi, but her determination and capabilities set her apart as a formidable ninja.

And so, we have a look into the Kurogane squad. Not by any means one made up of prodigies, but their work ethic and perseverance cause their reputation to precede them. Unfortunately, having a good reputation in the shinobi world only means you get more missions assigned to you, and now they have to go all the way to some small town in the middle of nowhere to deal with some warlord guy.

Mitsuhiro's eyes narrowed as he read the mission request. "It's a B rank," he says, laying it down on a desk and smoothing the creases out of the scroll on the paper.

"Great," Hiroto smirks. "So we get paid."

"When do we start?" Aya asks, pinning her hair up in a bun with a pair of senbon.

"As soon as we can," their sensei replies, rolling the scroll up and holding it in his hand. "We're about a day out from the village."

"Normal speed or enhanced?" Kenzo asks, standing up from his seat.

"Enhanced, of course."

The Nara lets out a groan. "Do we have to run?"

"You know we need the training for the upcoming evaluation," Aya reminds him, tightening the bandages around her feet. "At least Sensei isn't making us run around the village like last time."

The three Chunin shudder in unison at the thought.

"Right, then," Hiroto agrees, fixing his posture. "Do we need anything special for this mission?"

The Jonin shakes his head. "Nothing in particular, but keep in mind that anything you bring is extra weight. We're working on your endurance today," he says, hitting the lazy Chunin on the head with the scroll before slipping it into one of his many pockets on his pants. "You'll thank me later."

"Yes, Sensei," they chorus, exchanging a dead look with their eyes.

[LOST masterlist]

#fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #one piece #naruto #crossover #roronoa zoro #zabuza momochi #haku #one piece x naruto

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ayeathelas · 11 months

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[Chapter 5: Swords and Tools] Lost - One Piece and Naruto Crossover

(UPDATED: 05/19/23)

Morning comes soon enough, and the harbor is still. Birds call in the sky, and fish swim through the water, but Zoro can tell the village doesn’t get many visitors.

Fishermen set off in their boats, casting their nets out, the wind softly billowing in their sails. Zoro’s lying down on over the white-washed pony walls near the road to the sea, eyes closed and legs crossed as he takes in the warm sun like a lazy cat. It’s not the worst way to spend his morning. It feels good, and the gentle breeze rustles through his hair, cooling him down.

A shadow falls across his face. Zoro’s peaceful expression turns into a scowl. He opens his eyes to be met with the ugly mug of a swordsman.

“Really?” Zabuza scoffs. “You napping? Now?”

Zoro doesn’t move. “What, you got a problem with that?” he retorts, relaxing further into his pose.

Zabuza huffs quietly, looking away from him and glancing up at the cloudless blue sky. “Whatever. Don’t get too comfortable. It’ll probably rain today.” He turns to stare at Zoro. “You planning on staying out here all day?”

“I’m enjoying the sunlight,” he answers coolly, closing his eyes again.

Zabuza rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. I don’t care.”

Zoro opens his eyes, side-eying the Kiri-nin. He’s been acting weird since yesterday— something’s off. He’d ask what’s wrong, but from prior experience (i.e. Sanji) it has to be worded well or an argument will ensue.

“Oi,” Zoro asks, propping himself up on the limestone wall, “what’s your deal? If you’ve got a problem with me, quit beating around the bush and just say it.”

Zabuza looks over, his face blank but his eyes narrowed. Then he turns and stares at the ocean. “Since when were you a bounty hunter?” he asks. There’s a tinge of apprehension in his voice, but also… disappointment.

Well, maybe that’s not the response Zoro wanted.

The greenette shrugs, leaning back against the stone wall. “Since you're so curious, yeah, I was a bounty hunter for a short while. Mostly for the money. I took on a few jobs here and there, but it was mostly on pirates.”

Zabuza sighs. “You ever heard of a Bingo Book?”

“Nope.”

“It's a dark ledger of the damned, a collection of names and faces of those deemed enemies of the shinobi world. It's a catalog of targets, marked for elimination. Each entry a stain, a record of blood spilled and debts to be paid. A tool for the ambitious, the ruthless, and the heartless. It's a book that holds the secrets of shadows, a list of prey to be hunted down, captured or terminated. For those who make it into the bingo book, it's a mark of infamy, a testament to their sins or perceived threats.”

“That's some heavy shit,” Zoro admits. “So what, are you a bounty hunter?”

“Something like that,” Zabuza grunts.

Zoro hums and glances out at the sea, watching as a school of fish dart beneath a wave. The sun is already rising higher in the sky, burning hot against his skin, and a cool breeze brushes past him, carrying with it the salt smell of the sea and the sharp tang of smoke from the nearby fire pit.

“Cut to the chase. What’s this really about?” Zoro finally asks, breaking the silence. His gaze is fixed firmly on his reflection in the calm water. He keeps his arms folded casually against his chest, but there’s no mistaking the tension in his muscles.

“Stay away from Haku,” Zabuza orders flatly.

Zoro turns his head in confusion. “What?”

“You heard me.” Zabuza’s voice is gruff, his words clipped. He turns towards the sea, the sun reflecting off his sword. His gaze flits around the beach, taking in his surroundings. “What makes you think I want anything to do with a pirate, anyway?” he asks, voice dripping with contempt.

“Why does it matter?” Zoro counters, his voice full of annoyance. “Is this about me being a bounty hunter?”

Zabuza narrows his eyes, but doesn’t respond.

Zoro presses further. “Do you really think I’d sell out my companions?”

“It’s not below other bounty hunters to take bounties on other hunters.”

“That’s crazy!”

“Is it?” he asks, staring at Zoro. “I’d say I’m being reasonable,” he says as he crosses his arms.

Zoro shakes his head. “What’s Haku to you, anyways?”

He pauses, letting the question hang in the air for a moment. He watches the sea as waves crash onto the shore, ripples splashing against the sand as the waves recede once more. The gulls cry somewhere far off in the distance.

Zabuza stays silent for a moment before turning his head to look at Zoro. "He's my tool," he replies simply, averting his gaze. His voice is almost nonchalant, like this is an everyday conversation.

“Your tool?” Zoro echoes. That doesn't sound like a compliment to him.

“That’s right.” Zabuza turns back to stare at the horizon as the wind blows against him slightly. It smells fresh and salty, carrying with its breeze a faint smell of fish. He closed his eyes. “Like a sword.”

Zoro walks until he stands in front of him, eyes narrowed and dark. “People are not swords,” he mutters in anger. He pulls out the Wado Ichimonji, tilting it to let the blade catch the sun's rays. “They break more easily.”

His thoughts drift to a swordswoman, one who refused to back down from a fight, and the stone over her earthen bed.

Zoro places his hand on the hilt of his blade, gripping it tightly. “There are things that can't be cut,” he continues with his dark, threatening tone. “What happens then? Haku is a person,” he seethes, “one with his own thoughts and feelings. He deserves to be treated with dignity and respect, not like some object to be used and discarded.”

“Ha!” Zabuza scoffs. “What do you know about loyalty and honor? You pirates are all the same.” He raises his chin defiantly, his lips pulled in a snarl. “You'll never understand the bond between a ninja and his tool.”

“Well,” Zoro begins, shifting his weight and folding his hands across his chest. “We pirates have a strong sense of camaraderie and loyalty to our crewmates. We would never treat someone as a mere tool. He deserves better than that.”

“You talk a big game, swordsman,” Zabuza sneers. “But I don't see you doing anything about it.”

Zoro takes another step forward, his finger pointing at Zabuza’s chest. “If you don't change your attitude towards Haku, I'll make you regret it. I won't let you treat him like a tool while I'm around."

Zabuza stares at the green-haired man, searching for some expression on his face. When he doesn’t find it, he turns away. “Tch.” He walks back towards the house without saying another word.

Zoro sheathes his sword, laying back down angrily, squeezing his eyes shut to get rid of the other man’s ugly mug from his vision. Stupid bastard, he thinks irritably. He’d learn soon enough.

He hears a soft thud on his right. Probably some cat, or something. Not important enough to open his eyes.

“Did you mean that?” the cat asks, sounding strangely like Haku.

Cats can’t talk. Zoro turns and opens an eye, a timid Haku standing next to him.

"Sorry for waking you up!" Haku says, looking embarrassed.

"Don't apologize,” Zoro yawns, stretching lazily before getting up. “I wasn’t asleep anyway. Did I mean what?”

“What you said,” Haku repeats softly, trying to keep his voice even. “To him, about me.”

He nods firmly, his gaze intense. “Hell yeah, I did,” he replies. “You're not just some puppet for Zabuza to control. You're a badass fighter and a person with your own thoughts and feelings.”

Haku smiles, his cheeks warming from the rare praise. “Thank you, Zoro. But I must ask, why would you risk angering Zabuza-sama by speaking like that?"

Because he doesn’t seem to realize he treats you like that, is what Zoro wants to say. But instead, he settles with telling him something else.

Zoro watched Haku for a moment, gauging his expression. He can see the uncertainty in the younger boy's eyes, the same doubt that he had once felt himself. It’s something he recognizes all too well, the feeling of being used and discarded, of being seen only for one's utility and not as a person with their own worth.

"You remind me of a friend of mine," Zoro says suddenly, his voice quiet. “His name is Chopper.”

Haku looks up at Zoro with curiosity, his eyes reflecting the town in front of them. "Chopper?" he asks.

The salty breeze fills their lungs, bringing a sense of peace to their troubled minds. Haku fiddles with a blade of grass, his eyes cast down as Zoro begins to speak.

"Chopper is a friend of mine," he says, his voice low and solemn. "He's been through a lot, just like you. People used to see him as a monster, something to be feared and avoided. He felt like his only value was in his abilities, as a doctor or a fighter."

Haku listens intently, his eyes fixed on Zoro. "That sounds terrible. How did he overcome that?"

Zoro leans back against a nearby rock, his eyes staring off into the distance. "It wasn't easy. Chopper had to learn that his value wasn't determined by other people. He had to realize that he was more than just his abilities, that he was a person with his own thoughts and feelings. And he had to find people who would accept him for who he was, not just what he could do for them."

Haku nods slowly, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "I live to serve him. Shinobi are nothing more than tools."

Zoro's gaze hardens as he looks at Haku. "You're worth more than that, Haku. You have your own hopes and dreams, your own desires and fears. You're not just a tool to be used and discarded. You're a person, with your own worth and dignity."

Haku looks up at Zoro, his eyes searching. "I couldn’t betray Zabuza-sama like that. What are you asking me to do?"

Zoro's hand finds Haku's shoulder, the touch gentle and comforting. "You have to ask yourself. What's more important? Living up to someone else's expectations, or following your own path?"

Haku takes a deep breath, his eyes shining with uncertainty. "I don't know," he whispers.

Zoro sighs. "It's not an easy question to answer. You have to find the answer for yourself."

The waves crash against the shore, the sound a soothing lullaby. Haku looks out at the sea, his mind racing with thoughts and doubts. But there's a seed of hope, of possibility, that's been planted within him. He doesn't know where it will take him, but for the first time in his life, he feels like he has a choice. A choice to be more than just a tool. A choice to be himself.

Haku looked up at Zoro, his eyes shining with gratitude. "Thank you, Zoro,” he whispers to the swordsman.

Zoro grunts in response.

The next morning is as sleepy as the previous one, and as the village wakes up, Pino is frying some fish at the small stove in the corner of his kitchen.

Zabuza is still slightly groggy when he enters the room and sees Haku asleep on Zoro’s shoulder on the sofa. The greenette’s hair is disheveled, sticking up everywhere, and his shirt hangs loosely from his body. He yawns loudly and stretches out lazily, his arms above his head and his legs sprawled out.

“Mornin’,” he mumbles sleepily.

“Morning,” Zoro replies as he rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm. “How'd you sleep?”

Zabuza gives a grunt of acknowledgment before sitting heavily down on a chair opposite the couch.

Loud knocks come from the door, startling Haku awake and nearly causing him to fall off the armrest of the sofa.

“I’ll get it,” Pino says, walking towards the door and opening it.

A group of villagers stands anxiously, and Zoro can pick out a few he remembers seeing before.

“Hello! Good morning to you all,” Pino greets.

“Pino,” one interrupts, a shade of fear cast on his face. “He’s on his way!”

“Who is?” Zabuza asks, resting his arm on the doorframe.

“Kaizuko!” a woman interjects. “He’s coming here, right now!”

Pino gasps. “Here? Now?”

“Yes!”

“Why?” Zabuza demands. “What does he want?”

The villagers exchange glances, and then one of the women speaks up again. “He wants more money. We already paid them this month, but he’s been going around, door to door, this morning demanding us to pay our taxes. 50,000 ryo per person.”

Pino pales. “I— wait, I couldn’t possibly afford that!” he stammers nervously, looking at everyone else. They all shrug helplessly, the expressions on their faces saying it all: they didn’t think anyone could.

Zoro’s eyes darken. History seems to be repeating itself again.

"Why would he need more money?" Pino continues. "We just paid them two weeks ago."

"Actually," Haku interjects, "I've been meaning to talk to you all about tha—"

A man suddenly comes running toward the group. "He's here!" he shouts between pants as he comes to a stop in front of Pino's house. "He's here, it's—"

"Who's here?" a certain warlord asks, seemingly having appeared out of nowhere.

The crowd jumps up with a scream, dispersing quickly. Kaizuko is left behind, his shifty-looking men standing behind him.

"Those stupid peasants," he mutters. "Pino, your donation, please," he demands with a snap of his fingers. One of his men reaches his hand out, open, awaiting the money.

Pino chuckles nervously. "My lord, you see, about that—"

But Zoro cuts him off. He stands up and walks over toward Kaizuko and his men. As soon as he's close enough, his fist connects with his opponent's jaw, sending him flying across the courtyard.

Kaizuko rubs his jaw in a self-soothing manner, his eyes darkening. "What's this, Pino?" he asks menacingly, taking a step closer. "I thought we decided to keep things simple for the time being."

"Of course," Pino agrees, backing away and raising his hands defensively. "But you see, I've run into a little problem."

"Don't tell me you used my money to hire these thugs!"

"Who are you calling a thug?" Zabuza asks, stepping out from the doorframe, Haku trailing behind him. His tall shadow looms over the others, casting an imposing figure on the ground. The three soldiers, their jaws dropping and their eyes wide with shock.

"Sir?" one of his men whispers. "That man is Momochi Zabuza."

"So what?" Kaizuko snarls, standing to his feet.

"He is also known as the Demon of the Hidden Mist."

"Oh."

The men stand still as the realization sinks in. "OH!"

Kaizuko scrambles backward. "Y-you! Demon!" he points to the unamused man. "We'll be back! With backup! Don't think you can get away from us!"

Zabuza takes another step forward, and Kaizuko nearly trips on his cape as he runs away, his soldiers scrambling after him.

Pino stands in shock, watching as the men scatter, the sounds of their heavy footfalls echoing through the village and fading rapidly. Haku blinks sleepily behind Zabuza before rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and joining the rest in shock. He turns to look at Zoro, his expression one of disbelief.

"Did you really punch that guy?" Haku asks.

Zoro shrugs. "He was getting on my nerves."

"Good," Haku nods before walking back into the house.

Zoro turns to the other swordsman, something unrecognizable in his expression. "What the hell was that about?" he asks, his voice low and angry, yet carrying underneath a hint of confusion. "Demon of the Hidden Mist? Give me a break."

Zabuza shoves Zoro aside. "It's not a name I wanted. Fuck off." He walks away without another word, leaving Zoro standing there staring after him, confused and slightly stunned by everything he had seen earlier.

"The Demon of the Hidden Mist," Pino says, staring at the harbor. "It's not a pretty story."

"Is it?"

"Hmm." He turns to the green-haired swordsman. "They say he got that name on the battlefield during the last Shinobi War. He'd pop up out of the mist and you'd never be seen again. He's a ghost story. I bet there are a lot of people out there who'd want to get their hand on him."

Zoro thinks back to the conversation they had about bounties. "Oh." What the missing-nin had said made sense now. Or, at least, his protectiveness of Haku did.

Pino sighs, leaning back on the doorframe. "I imagine it must be lonely to be like him," he turns his gaze to Zabuza's figure, walking off in the distance. "Probably can't trust most people."

Under the moonlit sky, Haku moves with the grace of a shadow, his lithe figure blending seamlessly into the darkness. Clad in a black cloak that billows around him, his destination is fixed in his mind's eye. Tonight, Haku would bring Kaizuko to justice. And he had the perfect idea of how he was going to do it.

On his walk that morning, he'd come across a printing house that was situated in the middle of the village. A little exploring revealed that it had three entrances - two doors on the first floor, and a window that he had found out was usually open, according to a villager that had passed by him when he was observing.

Silently, Haku approaches the printing house that hummed with activity during the day but now lays dormant and unguarded. With practiced ease, he scales the walls, his nimble fingers finding purchase on the cracks and ledges. Reaching the balcony, he crouches down, surveying the landscape before him.

He slinks through the open window, silently making his way down to the main floor where the press was held. Luckily, it seems that the owner had left in a hurry that day, leaving behind paper and ink on a desk. Haku figures out the mechanism behind the press quickly, and he wastes no time printing his message. He sneaks back upstairs, wincing when the open window causes a draft to slam a door shut.

The night breeze whispers through the streets, carrying the secrets of the village, and Haku takes advantage of this unseen ally. From the folds of his cloak, he produces a stack of flyers that will reveal the truth about Kaizuko. Each sheet bears damning evidence of the leader's gambling addiction, outlining how it has compromised his judgment and integrity. Haku's handiwork will be the catalyst that shatters the façade, exposing the warlord's vices to the populace.

With a determined focus, Haku sets about his task. Swiftly and silently, he slips from rooftop to rooftop, his bare feet barely making a sound on the tiles. With each leap, he leaves behind a trail of flyers, like whispers of rebellion in the wind. From the darkened heights, he watches, perched, as the flyers scatter across the village, carried by the night breeze to reach their intended recipients.

As the flyers descend upon the village, they dance and twirl, guided by the unseen hands of fate. Some flutter through open windows, landing on tables and into the hands of unsuspecting citizens. Others find their way into the streets, where passersby will discover them as they embark on their daily routines in the morning. Haku's revenge is set in motion, and the truth will find its way to those who needed it most.

Haku's eyes glint with a sense of satisfaction as he watches his message of justice unfold beneath the moonlit night. He knows the impact of his actions will be significant, that the seeds of doubt sown in the hearts of the villagers will take root and grow. Kaizuko will be exposed, his hold weakened by the revelation of his addiction. Maybe it would even inspire the village to rise up against him.

With the task completed, Haku retreats from the rooftops, fading into the shadows once again. The night continues to envelop the village, as if nothing has transpired. But deep within, the spirit of change stirs, its whispers growing louder with each passing moment.

Haku has cast his die in this dangerous game, and the wheels of fate are set in motion. The path to justice has been illuminated, and it is only a matter of time before the sleepy little village finds itself ablaze with rage.

[LOST masterlist]

#fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #crossover #one piece #one piece x naruto #naruto #roronoa zoro #zabuza momochi #haku #one piece fanfiction #naruto fanfiction

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ayeathelas · 1 year

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[Chapter 4: The Warlord and the Tollmaster] Lost - One Piece and Naruto Crossover

(UPDATED: 04/05/23)

This is a story about a tollmaster.

He gets up every morning, checks on his daughter— good, she's sleeping and still tucked in, nice and warm— and makes himself breakfast, which consists of two baked fish, both on the smaller side, with two slices of bread. Then he grabs his gun, hooks it to his belt, and walks to the docks, which are really only about a few hundred feet from his small home. He sits on a barrel and stares at the sea, waiting for visitors to arrive, and thinks of how to make this more enjoyable for himself (because, there was no way he was enjoying this).

There wasn't always a need for a tollmaster. Before, he was just a humble fisherman. But the Warlord came and so the farmers turn to slaves, merchants turn to traders, and the fisherman becomes a tollmaster, hoping that the money he makes from his forced job is enough to appease his master and keep his daughter alive.

This is a story about a Warlord.

He arrives by boat (a freighter, really— the gigantic metal ship he uses for his mode of transportation is no mere boat) and disembarks surrounded by his loyal soldiers, who are oddly sweaty and don't dare look him in the eye. The first thing he does each time is visit the tollmaster, to collect the tolls and taxes due to him.

There have always been warlords. And this one is no different— seizing land for the sake of power, subjugating people for the sake of his convenience, using their money for his entertainment. After all, they only yet live to serve him.

Warlords and tollmasters may exist on the same plane, but they live in different worlds.

The green-haired man does not know this yet, nor does the man dressed in bandages, nor does the young boy who accompanies him. They only see their boat, sunken at the bottom of the sea, and the tollmaster playing his role to a T.

The Warlord steps off the ship's metal ramp and onto the docks. The whole ship shifts with his weight. With an arrogant smirk decorating his face, he approaches the tollmaster, who looks terrified out of his mind. His knees are still shaking from his encounter with two missing-nin, and he bows his head quickly when the large man arrives in front of him.

"Welcome, Lord Kaizuko," he stammers, clasping his sweaty hands together.

"Where are my brothers?" the huge, imposing man demands. His voice echoes across the dock. "Tell me where they've gone."

The tollmaster shivers slightly, his shoulders tense, though he does his best not to show it. "I am sorry, my lord. They left of their own accord. They did not ask for anyone to guide them. All that I know is that they headed straight towards the Land of the Moon."

"Those fools... they think they can escape my wrath!" the large man snaps angrily. "Pino," he barks at the tollmaster, "I'll be having words with you. You weren't supposed to let them go!"

"I-I apologize, my lord." Pino trembles as he kneels, his head bowed in shame.

"And as for you," Kaizuko snarls, motioning to Zoro, Zabuza, and Haku. "State your business here!" he commands, pointing his thick finger at the three of them.

They all share a look between themselves before Haku begins speaking.

"We're just visiting and would like to request passage through your village. We have relatives that live in Oujisama City," he lies politely. "So, please allow us to pass without causing trouble. Our family is waiting for us in the capital."

Kaizuko pauses for a moment, thinking it over. A sly smile crosses his face as he replies. "Of course, we will not stand in your way. We welcome visitors here, in Haruki Village. I'm sure everyone will make you feel welcome. Pino!" he barks, "see to our guests." His eyes are full of double meaning.

"Y...yes sir," Pino mutters softly, rising from the ground with his head lowered.

The sound of the Warlord's boots hitting the pier echo in the still air as he makes his way away from the group, toward one of the many huts lining the dock.

The three men remain silent as the tollmaster motions for them to follow him. The people who had come to watch the spectacle disperse, and the three strangers follow him.

Once he's gotten inside his home and shut the door behind them, he takes a deep breath and then sighs heavily. "Please forgive me," he says.

"Forgive you?" Zabuza questions, grabbing his sword. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't slice you down right where you stand."

Pino pales, and out of the corner of his eye, Zoro sees a small girl walking in the hallway. She runs past Zabuza (whose sword is still in his hands) and launches herself into her father's arms.

"Daddy!" she exclaims, looking happily at the man and hugging him tightly.

Pino looks startled by her arrival and then smiles awkwardly at her. "Hello, my little one. How are you feeling today? Did you sleep well?"

"Yep. Who're they?"

Haku stares at Zabuza, who reluctantly puts his sword away.

The tollkeeper clears his throat nervously before replying. "These gentlemen are from Oujisama city. They are very important travelers here."

"Ohhhh." She looks back at the other two, studying them closely. "You look kinda scary. Is that real hair or are you just pretendin'?"

Zoro smirks as he reaches down, tugging on his green hair. "It's real," he says.

She giggles. "It's pretty."

"Thanks," he replies. "The name's Roronoa Zoro. These guys are Zabuza and Haku."

"I'm Rera!" she greets. "Do you want some lunch?"

They sit around the table, set with five plates that each have a portion of fish and rice. The fire is crackling in the fireplace, and though the tollmaster's house is small, it is not stuffy.

"So," Zoro begins, wiping his mouth, "What's up with that Kaizuko guy?"

"A warlord," the tollmaster mutters. "All I know is he shows up every month to collect taxes off us in exchange for our protection. If we don't meet the quota, we become fish bait, or worse— target practice."

"Taxes?" Haku inquires curiously. "Isn't that money supposed to go to the Daimyo?"

"Ah yes," Pino responds. "That's why he's such a bast—" he stops, glancing at his daughter, before correcting himself— "a terrible man, because most villagers never get any revenue whatsoever. So our tax money goes off to the Daimyo, and our living money goes off to the Warlord."

"He's such a bastard!" Rera parrots proudly, playing with her food.

"That's awful," Haku whispers, a look of appalled horror on his face.

"Yes, it's terrible," Pino agrees with a sigh. "Not much we can do about it."

"Why not?" Zoro asks. "Why don't you all fight back?"

"And what, risk our families and lives?" Pino asks incredulously. "It would be a massacre.”

"So you're just going to let it happen instead?"

"Listen, we're just trying to stay alive," the tollmaster mutters. He picks at his food sadly.

Zabuza and Haku are eating their fish, eyeing Pino and Zoro throughout the conversation like it's some kind of game to them. Rera is happily munching on her own portion, not paying attention to the conversation at hand.

Zoro leans back, debating whether or not he'll open his mouth and say what is on his mind.

"Listen up. I've got a tale to share," Zoro begins. "Back in the day, I sailed the seas as a feared bounty hunter."

Zabuza tenses up, mid-bite, and Haku draws out a senbon, poised to strike the swordsman if need be. Pino's gaze darts between the three of them.

"Didn't know a bounty was the price for a free meal," Zabuza mutters, a hint of apprehension in his voice.

"Relax, will ya? I'm not a bounty hunter anymore, that was in the past. Let me finish," Zoro continues. "I used to hunt pirates on the open waters— they called me 'Pirate Hunter' Zoro. Where I come from, Marines do the dirty work for the World Government, taking down pirates who are their enemies. Bounties were their way of putting a price on their heads. It was a good gig, really. I honed my skills, became stronger and the money was fair.

"At some point, I was approached by a brat with big dreams of becoming the Pirate King. His name's Luffy. I thought it was ridiculous, but something about him made me join his crew anyway."

"Pirate King?" Rera interrupts. "What's that?"

"Hmph. The definition of a Pirate King varies depending on who you ask. Some believe it's about power or wealth, and that they rule the seas. But my captain has a different idea. To him, being the Pirate King means being the freest person in the world. It's about chasing your own dreams and living without any restraints. That's what we strive for.

"Regardless, I've been sailing with Luffy's crew ever since. We've got a good crew, though there's always been something fishy about one of them. Nami's our navigator, but she's got a habit of picking pockets and insatiable greed for money. Turns out, there was a reason for that.

"Nami's past is a dark one. She grew up in a village that was taken over by a ruthless fishman pirate named Arlong. He killed her adoptive mother right in front of her eyes." Zoro pauses, his expression darkening. "Nami was forced to become Arlong's navigator, but she never gave up hope of freeing her village from his grasp. She made a deal with him to buy their freedom for 100 million berries. It was a lot of money but Nami was determined. She worked tirelessly, day and night, stealing from pirates and building up her savings until she could finally buy her village's freedom." He shakes his head, a mix of respect and sadness in his eyes. "It's a testament to her strength and determination that she was able to pull it off."

Zabuza scoffs. "Hmph, as if. Why would he spare them? That's not the way his kind operates."

Zoro nods. "Exactly. Arlong had no intention of freeing Nami or her village, not even after she had enough money to buy their lives back."

Pino shakes his head in sympathy, taking another sip of water.

Zoro continues. "Nami's village was in dire straits, with Arlong and his men tightening their grip on the people. It was clear that something needed to be done." His eyes glint with fierce determination. "Luffy wasn't going to stand by and let innocent people suffer. When Nami reached out to us for help, our whole crew rallied to her aid. We fought with all our might and took down Arlong, driving him and his men out of the village." He pauses, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Of course, the Marines didn't take too kindly to our interference. But we took care of them too."

"Your captain Luffy sounds like a true hero," Pino says, watching his daughter eat her lunch, "But getting rid of Kaizuko is impossible. There's no evidence of his crimes, and no one is willing to step up and help us. We're a small village, and even if we could afford it, we can't even hire shinobi to protect us." He sighs deeply.

Zoro shakes his head, narrowing his eyes. "Listen, we're not here to force you to do anything. But if you want to stand up against this Kaizuko and create a better future for your daughter and your village, you need to be willing to take action." He leans forward, his voice firm. "We've faced our fair share of tyrants and oppressors. We know what it takes to fight for what's right." Zoro pauses, his hand resting on his sword hilt. "So, if you're willing to fight, we'll stand with you."

Pino stands up from his seat at the table and lets out a sigh. "Thanks for the offer, but I'll keep it in mind," he responds.

Rera giggles. "What's your captain like?"

"Well, he's a rubber man, for one. He can stretch his limbs like crazy, and bullets just bounce off his skin!"

Such power! thinks Haku. Could this be learned?

"How's that possible?" Rera asks, with the curiosity only a child could have.

"He ate a devil fruit," Zoro shrugs.

As the small girl interrogates the pirate, Zabuza sits silently at his table, staring at Zoro.

Contrary to what you may expect, he doesn't actually trust the green-haired man. Zabuza isn't stupid. He's got the kid on his hands, and while Haku may be just a weapon, it's not one that he wants to see fall out of his use any time soon.

Zoro's an unknown, a missing variable. And there's something that's not right about this whole story. If his crew were here, the news would have spread around about it already. Maybe he was marooned, and he just doesn't want to talk about it.

Zoro's still relaxed, entertaining the questions the kids have been asking him as if there hasn't been a tense moment taking place at all.

He'll have to keep an eye out for that guy.

Haku manages to slip away that night. Pino's nice enough to let them stay at his small home, but Haku can't help but feel that there's more going on here than what meets the eye.

Earlier that day, following lunch, Pino had Rera take them on a little tour of the village, and they passed by a large home that Rera explained belonged to Kaizuko. So, Haku's going to do a bit of exploring and see where Kaizuko keeps all his money. Just for informational purposes, of course.

It's not difficult to sneak out. Zabuza, despite being the large, hulking figure he is, knows a thing or two about stealth (hello? Demon hidden in the mist?) and taught Haku (so he wouldn't hold him back, of course) how to stay out of sight and do a bit of snooping.

It's a skill that Haku has gotten much better at over the years.

Haku moves through the city with the fluid grace of shadows. He slips through narrow alleyways and darts behind carts and buildings, always moving with purpose and precision. The darkness cloaks him like a veil, rendering him almost invisible to any casual observer.

The streets are mostly empty, except for the occasional drunkard staggering out of the tavern. His steps are silent as he walks towards the large house, ducking behind a wall when he sees a soldier at the gate.

Haku slowly approaches, keeping low until he notices that the guard is passed out and snoozing, leaving the door wide open. Careful not to make a sound, Haku sneaks inside, moving cautiously through the open gap between the iron gate and the fence.

As he reaches the doorway into Kaizuko's home, he can hear loud laughter coming from inside the room. The source of the laughter belongs to Kaizuko himself. He is surrounded by a group of his closest advisors, all of them gathered around a low table. The air is thick with the scent of incense and the soft glow of lanterns casts flickering shadows across the room, and he holds up a bottle to his mouth, pouring its contents directly into it.

They are circling a round wooden table with many colored chips strewn across the surface. The man next to Kaizuko says something, and the warlord nods, the man in front of him pushing a pile of gold in his direction.

Haku slips closer, peering through the slats of the shoji screen doors. The warlord is laughing and joking with his companions, his normally shifty expression replaced by one of mirth and enjoyment. The sound of clinking coins fills the air as the game continues, the players throwing down their bets with increasing enthusiasm. Haku wonders if the heavy gold chains around their necks make it hard for them to breathe.

"You know what they say," one man chuckles. "Once a gambler, always a gambler."

Kaizuko chuckles. "Aye, but who would accuse a rich man of his wages? Now, come on now— don't tell me that you aren't itching to lose again? I'll raise the wager; these peasants have deep pockets!"

All of the men chuckle, sinking back into the heady atmosphere of liquor and gambling.

Haku presses his back against the wall as he hides. It seems these men are gambling away the money they took from taxing the poor. He eyes the mountains of ryo on the table, knowing they won’t last in their perfect piles for long before they will all go to waste. And then the men will tax the merchants and shipwrights and grocers and tollmasters, and they will begin this vicious cycle all over again.

Haku slips out of the house the way he came in and leaves without a trace.

Gambling. This is the Warlord's vice. And Haku hopes it will be his downfall.

[LOST masterlist]

#crossover #one piece x naruto #one piece #naruto #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #roronoa zoro #zabuza momochi #haku

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ayeathelas · 1 year

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[Chapter 3: Landfall] Lost - One Piece and Naruto Crossover

(UPDATED: 03/22/23)

Sarutobi Hiruzen holds his head in his hands wearily. His eyes are heavy and circled with a lack of sleep, and if he has to tell everyone to be quiet one more time, he’s going to lose it.

In this room, right now, are gathered representatives from every hidden village among the elemental nations (save those of Iwagakure, Kumogakure, and Kirigakure, who refused to send anyone because they believed it was a trap) for one purpose— to discuss the being who had managed to breach the divide that is isolating the nations from the rest of the world.

“Hokage-sama,” one interrupts, clasping his hands together and setting them on the round table where they were sitting. “What do we know about the person who did this?”

Hiruzen rubs his temples tiredly, his wrinkled hands growing numb from the repeated movement. “According to the report we received from the Daimyo, the person who breached the divide came alone. He also stated that they are currently somewhere in the Land of Fire, but further intelligence proves this to be incorrect. They have not reached the mainland, as far as we know.”

A murmur of discontent breaks out amongst the assembled representatives, who seem to unanimously agree that the report was incomplete at best.

“So where does that leave us?” someone asks. “We have no leads as of yet.”

“I believe we need to assume they are heading straight to the land of the Fire Nation,” Hiruzen states matter of factly. “Which is why we must act quickly. I have already put out an S-rank mission regarding the presence of said individual. We will attempt to capture them without incident.”

“Dead,” a representative from Suna asks, steeling her gaze, “or alive?”

Hiruzen closes his eyes. “Alive. For now, that is all we know,” he answers gravely. “As of now, all attempts will be made to capture and interrogate said individual. Once they are captured we will interrogate and question them thoroughly.”

“We could put them in the bingo books,” a shinobi from Kusa, dressed in dark colors, suggests.

“And how would we do that?” a Yuki-nin retorts, throwing his hands up. “We don’t even know what they look like, much less their name or anything about them!”

The debate continues for quite some time. Most of the officials present want nothing more than to capture the intruder immediately and throw them into a cell, preferably one filled with chains. However, some want to wait for them to appear first and see what their intention is with entering the elemental nations.

A quiet shinobi from Ame speaks up. “And what if this individual doesn’t even possess chakra? What if they’re innocent?”

A few murmurs go around the room at the suggestion, though none agree with her statement.

After a couple of seconds, the Hokage sighs heavily. “Let us hope such a thing is true,” he admits quietly. “For the sake of our people. But at the moment, our only option is to wait for these individuals to make contact. As such, we need to remain vigilant. If anything should happen, we will need to act quickly and decisively to resolve this matter. Do you all understand?"

Various responses of assent ring throughout the room. What a miracle— a consensus between most of the nations has been reached, and it only took an impending disaster to unite them.

Finally, the council members decide to adjourn, promising to send an update as soon as possible.

Hiruzen stays behind to finish up with reading some reports in his office. It’s not often he finds the time to read these things. In fact, most people don’t know that he has his assistants and secretaries review most of them, only flagging the ones that need his review. It certainly makes his job easier at the very least.

However, there’s something odd about having a C-ranked mission flagged. He relaxes in his chair, opens the scroll with the mission report, and reads it thoroughly. Nothing seems to be amiss. Just an average mission report (except for the off-track comments. Who taught this guy how to write a report?)

His eyes scan over the paper until they stop, his gaze hovering over a paragraph.

“We saw a man with bright green hair at the tavern. He had a massive scar on his chest, and he carried three swords. His clothing was odd. I can’t tell if he has a terrible sense of fashion or if he’s just some foreigner. He called himself a pirate, and offered the bartender some foreign gold coins, which she refused to accept.”

What.

Hiruzen slowly gets up from his chair, his mouth opening and closing slightly, before turning towards the secretary.

“Are the representatives gone yet?” he asks, a little shaken.

“Yes,” he replies, “although not for long.”

“Send someone to bring them back. I think we have found our man,” he commands sharply, before exiting through the door.

At least, I hope.

Elsewhere, Zoro is hit with a sneezing fit. It’s rather embarrassing, especially given the fact that Zabuza keeps smirking about it.

He coughs violently while rubbing his nose. A bit annoyed, he stands up from the log they were sitting on and turns to the swordsman. “What’s so funny?”

The other male chuckles, flicking at a blade of grass that had stubbornly decided to stick to his skin. “Nothing, I was just thinking about how stupid you look.”

He scowls at the swordsman and turns his attention back to the horizon. "Hey."

"Huh?"

"Where’s the kid?”

“Hnn,” Zabuza grunts before yawning widely. “He went to go get you a boat. You know, since you couldn’t figure out how to walk on water.”

“Shut up,” Zoro mutters under his breath, though Zabuza can still hear it perfectly clearly.

Zabuza smirks again, shaking his head. “Come on then,” he says in between yawns as he stands up and stretches a bit. “Let’s go to the docks.”

“Alright,” Zoro says, getting onto his feet. “Lead the way, old man.”

Zoro and the missing-nin begin making their way toward the dock that was supposed to hold the ticket to their next destination. The duo eventually find themselves standing near the edge of a wooden platform, overlooking the ocean. An unfinished bridge stretches into the horizon.

At the end of the dock, there’s a small boat with a green sail resting against its railing.

Zoro takes notice of it. "It’s a small boat," he observes. “There won’t be much room for you guys if you get tired."

"It's a small dinghy," Haku responds, walking towards them, having paid off the fisherman who owned the boat. "And as for us, we’re fine. Crossing the channel should be simple enough. Let’s get going before you attract too much attention.”

"Right." With that, the green-haired man hops into the boat. He grabs the oars, and the other two help push him off the shore and into the water.

Crossing the channel isn’t much of a hassle. Zoro’s been around boats long enough to know how to make them work, and Zabuza and Haku are right next to him, guiding him to shore as they run over the water to keep up with Zoro’s rowing.

For a place called the land of waves, the waters are fairly calm today, and there’s a slight breeze that carries the salty air along, blowing against their faces as the boat passes through the gap between the island and the main continent. There are plenty of small islands dotted here and there among the cerulean waters, and Zoro admits to himself that this place isn’t all that bad.

Eventually, after some time, they approach land again. Zabuza and Haku don’t even seem to be tired, though they do look a bit winded after running on such infirm ground. You know, the way your ankles and heels start to hurt when you’re wearing bad shoes?

As they near the shore and docks, a man awaits them, his arms crossed behind his back. When he spots them approaching the docks, he smiles broadly, but there is also a suspicious glint in his blue eyes.

“You there!” he begins. “You must pay a tax if you wish to disembark.”

“Tax?” Zoro questions with confusion, looking at Zabuza. What the hell has he gotten them into? “We weren’t aware of a tax.”

“Oh yes,” he continues, with the energy of a crazed chicken. “It is absolutely imperative that you pay the tax.”

“But I don’t have any money,” Zoro counters.

“Alright then— you must answer a riddle!” the man exclaims, stabbing his index finger in the green-haired swordsman’s direction. “What disappears as soon as you say its name?”

“Money?” Zoro asks, tightening his grip on the oars. This man is really starting to piss him off.

The man just giggles, his hands flying to cover his mouth. “Wrong. You have two more guesses.”

“Food?” Zabuza asks, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he stands on the water. It seems the ninja has an appetite.

“Wrong again!” the strange man says as he bursts into another flurry of giggles. “Last try!”

The swordsmen stare blankly at the man, unsure of what kind of riddles this guy is trying to give them. And frankly, Zoro doesn’t care anymore.

“Nothingness,” Haku answers for them, giving a sage nod.

The man gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “You…. are…. incorrect! The answer was silence! Goodbye!” Conversation over, he shoots the boat twice as he bursts into crazed chortles.

The boat starts taking on water, and Zoro grabs his swords before they can sink too.

Zabuza and Haku lunge for the man, the bigger missing-nin knocking him onto his back on the rough, wooden floor of the docks. The man cowers in fear, his hands held up in surrender as he tries to stutter out some kind of explanation. Before he could do so, however, there comes a loud shout.

“Kaizuko!” a man yells. “He’s here!”

The people of the small fishing village begin to panic, their voices filling with concern as they call their children away from the docks.

“Kaizuko,” the cowardly man whimpers. “He’s going to have my hide!”

“Not before you pay for our boat!” Zabuza barks at him.

As if a switch has been flipped, the man scrambles across the floor, standing up and dusting himself.

A large shadow looms over Zabuza and Haku, and Zoro (who is wringing out the water from his shirt for the second day in a row) turns around to be met with the hull of a metal ship right in front of his nose.

A sudden chill tickles its way down his spine. Zoro sneezes again.

[LOST masterlist]

#ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #one piece x naruto #one piece #naruto #roronoa zoro #zabuza momochi #haku #crossover

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ayeathelas · 1 year

Text

[Chapter 2: Zoro Collects a Swordsman] Lost - One Piece and Naruto Crossover

(UPDATED: 03/10/23)

He wanders around for a few hours. It’s nothing new— back when he’d hunt pirates for bounties, he let the wind literally lead his sails from island to island. But with his boat sunk, it seems like traveling by foot is his only option for now. Thinking of it as training helps take the boring edge off it.

For the most part, his trek through the forests is uneventful. He keeps an eye out for the runaway russet boar, but can’t really find any tracks. It’s pretty peaceful, a few birds fluttering here and there, squirrels tittering over stolen nuts, ants crawling on the forest floor. Nothing out of the usual. He has to admit it’s a nice change of pace from traveling by ship.

There are a few instances in which he comes across people. He’s met a few hunters, some merchants traveling up to “Iwa Country,” wherever that is. They’re fairly friendly.

One of them tells him the weather is going to get bad later tonight, so he should head out to the village ahead to seek some shelter. It seems like a decent idea, so he does so.

The small settlement isn’t that far ahead. It isn’t large or well-defended. Two men stand guard, armed and watchful, staring at him warily. The one on the right holds out his hand to stop him.

“What’s the matter?” Zoro asks them, crossing his arms defensively. “Never seen a swordsman before?”

The two sentries share nervous looks. “Err, which village are you coming from?” the left one asks, scratching his head awkwardly.

Zoro scoffs. “I’m not from any dumb village around here,” he responds. “Now, can I go inside, or not?”

The right soldier steps forward. “You won’t be able to bring your swords inside, Mr. Samurai.”

The green-haired man narrows his eyes. What a pain. “No way. Not a chance. The swords come with me.”

The soldier shakes his head. “Then I’m afraid we can’t let you in, sir.”

And that’s how Zoro ends up back that the village where he started, wet as a drowned cat. He couldn’t avoid the storm.

Zabuza Momochi is nearly pissing himself with laughter at the sight of the drenched swordsman. He quickly wipes the tears that are rolling down his cheeks, but he’s already started laughing.

"Oh my god! That's priceless!" the bartender laughs, leaning back against the bar counter as she tries to catch her breath.

Zoro glowers in frustration. "Fuck you," he grunts.

The boy— Haku— narrows his eyes at the curse, shaking his head. “You’re going to get sick,” he nags. “Walking all that distance wet and cold? You’re asking to be bedridden.”

Zoro shakes his head. “I don’t get sick, kid.”

Zabuza manages to calm down, tears crinkling in the corners of his eyes. Zoro’s nose twitches. He inhales sharply and feels a tickle inside his nose. He sneezes.

Haku stares, mildly horrified. Zabuza breaks out in howls again.

“What was it you said? ‘It’ll be your funeral?’ At this rate, you’ll be the first to go!”

The bartender hits her fist on the counter as she clutches her stomach, wracked with laughter.

“Very funny,” Zoro mutters.

“You’re so pathetic!” Zabuza exclaims in between laughs. “Can’t even handle walking in the rain without catching a cold!”

Zoro scowls darkly and kicks him. Zabuza chokes as he’s sent into a coughing fit. Haku hits him dutifully on the back until he calms down.

“So, what’s your plan, Mr. Pirate?” the bartender asks him as she returns to tending the counter.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Don’t really know yet,” he admits. “I need to find my crew. They’ve probably made landfall somewhere on this island.”

The bartender shakes her head. “Sorry, if your friends would’ve reached the island, we would’ve known by now. Nami no Kuni is pretty small. Maybe they reached the mainland.”

Zoro sighs exasperatedly. Those dumbasses. They just had to get lost, didn't they?

"Hey, can I ask you a question?" Haku interjects suddenly.

"Shoot, kid," he answers, leaning back against the bar. Might as well relax, it seemed like nothing was going to happen anyways.

"Why do you have so many swords?" Haku asks curiously, staring at Wado Ichimonji. Haku looks to be about ten years old, maybe younger. Zoro was younger than him when he set off to train at the dojo.

"They're mine," he explains. "I use Santoryu, the Three Swords Style."

"...oh," Haku says quietly. "How'd you come across them?"

Zoro stares at his swords, tracing each scratch and mark with his gaze. “Well, each one has a different story," he begins. "These are the Sandai Kitetsu and Shusui. They're cursed blades-"

"This one," Haku says, pointing to Wado. "What's this one's story?"

Zoro doesn’t answer for a moment, memories filling his head as his eyes trail over the smooth hilt of his most prized sword. "That one... That one's a promise, to an old friend."

Zabuza raises his brow in interest. "Sounds nice. What'd you promise?"

"To be the world's Greatest Swordsman," he says, steeling his gaze, staring at the older man. "And to never lose again."

Zabuza smirks. "You've got a long way until you get there, buddy."

Strangely enough, Zabuza and Haku offer to take Zoro across to the mainland. And since the swordsman isn’t in a state to refuse, he accepts. They set off on foot, traveling at a leisurely pace through the calm wilderness.

"You know,” Haku begins, “you might be safer if you stay here, in Nami no Kuni. Hi no Kuni is full of shinobi, and you'll attract a lot of attention."

Zoro gives him a flat look. “I’m not staying anywhere until I find my crew," he replies simply, resuming his steady walk. “I’m not afraid of a little trouble.”

“Alright then,” the young boy hums.

The three continue to walk side by side, silence settling over them once more. There aren't many other people traveling through this section of the woods. It's quiet, serene, just like everything else that lives here.

“We’ll have to take a boat to get across the channel,” Zabuza interrupts. “Haku and I could do it on our own, but you don’t know how to walk on water.”

“Is that a challenge?” Zoro snickers, raising an eyebrow. “Bring it on.”

“No need to get cocky. You’d likely fall into the ocean and drown if you try it on your own. You haven’t trained your chakra at all— don’t overestimate yourself, idiot.”

Zoro rolls his eyes. “Teach me how. I’ll do it.”

“Heh, you’re persistent, I’ll give you that. But you’ll start at ground zero,” he warns.

“No shame in that,” Zoro shrugs.

“If you say so,” Zabuza says, picking up a leaf from the litter on the forest floor. “Stick this to your head. No glue, no swords, no funny business.”

Zoro grabs the leaf as instructed and places it on top of his head, sticking it firmly onto his hair. “Happy now?”

“Very funny. On your forehead.”

The green-haired (greenette?) pirate presses it firmly onto his forehead with his thumb, but it falls off and floats down to the ground easily. He groans. “This is stupid.”

The missing-nin grins mischievously at him. “See? You just can’t use chakra. This is a basic technique. Here…”

With his fingers, he holds the leaf up in front of the moss-head and presses it onto his forehead. It sticks easily, as if it’s glued on.

Zoro glowers at him. “It would help if I knew what this dumb chakra stuff was in the first place,” he grumbles.

“No use in teaching it if you can’t even use it,” Zabuza responds bluntly. “It’s a waste of time to sharpen a cheap blade. Let's keep going. We should reach the shore soon.”

“Looks like we’ll need to get a boat,” Haku muses. “We should stop by the village on the coast before we make for Hi no Kuni.”

“Sounds good,” Zoro agrees. The sun starts to lower in the sky, and a painted dusk is approaching. “You can teach me how to do it later.”

Zabuza chuckles darkly and walks ahead. "If you survive the crossing," he calls behind himself, laughing maniacally at his own joke.

[LOST masterlist]

#ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #one piece #one piece x naruto #naruto #roronoa zoro #zabuza momochi #haku

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ayeathelas · 1 year

Text

[Chapter 1: Pots and Kettles] Lost - One Piece and Naruto Crossover

(UPDATED: 01/17/23)

Zoro wakes up from dreams about being a dragon. Or maybe just about a dragon. He can’t really remember— it was some weird dream his brain had put together at the last minute before he had to wake up.

The only things that he’s really certain of are that he feels cold (and wet) all over and that he is surrounded by water.

“Shit,” he swears, grabbing his floating swords. The small little dinghy was taking on water. It isn’t sinking yet, but… Zoro looks around frantically, trying to find a solution.

Ahead, there’s a half-constructed bridge. It looks like there’s some kind of support that’s in place— maybe he could use it to pull himself up on dry land? It’s worth a shot at least.

He rows forward until he’s under the bridge and grabs onto it, using whatever leverage he can find. The wooden planks creak and groan. But thankfully, Zoro manages to catch the top of the structure. He throws up two of his swords, Wado Ichimonji in his mouth, and reaches for the top with his other arm. He tries to pull himself up, but his side rams into a broken plank, leaving behind a cut with a few splinters in it. Zoro winces, losing his grip on the slippery surface.

A hand shoots out before he falls in, and Zoro’s arm reaches out to meet it. It pulls him up safely, and he’s dragged onto the bridge until he can sit up, cold water dripping onto the wooden floor. He sets the sword in his mouth next to him.

“Thanks,” he grunts in between pants, looking up and seeing a man with spiky black hair and some kind of headband tied around his forehead.

He’s sitting in front of Zoro with his legs crossed, holding his chin thoughtfully in his palm. Zoro can’t make out any other features on him beyond that. The lower half of his face is covered in bandages that obscure his nose and mouth. He can make out the hilt of a sword resting in a scabbard on his back.

“Don’t mention it.” The man offers no smile. He doesn’t move. He hasn’t said a word since helping Zoro up, and he’s watching Zoro with curious intensity. There’s something calculating in his gaze, though, almost suspicious. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” Zoro replies, raising his shirt up. He looks down at the angry red cut on his side. It burns. “It’s nothing too bad.”

The man stares at the blades resting on the floor. Shivers dance on Zoro’s skin, and the hairs on his arms stand at attention. He quickly pulls on his shirt again and stands up. The man's muscular arm juts out, grabbing his wrist before he can take a step forward.

“Hey, what's your name?" His eyes glint, and he’s got a dangerous look on his face. Zoro feels an involuntary chill run down his spine. It looks familiar.

“Why do you want to know?” he demands, breaking the stranger's grasp.

The bandages hide most of his facial expressions, but Zoro can make out a smirk on his face. He reaches behind and unsheathes his sword wordlessly. It’s huge, with a flat blade and a hole in the side. Looks like an executioner-type blade, fit for slicing off heads. Zoro grabs the Wado, settling into a familiar stance. He tightens his grip on the blade as he waits for his opponent to strike.

The stranger lurches forward. He brings the sword back and cuts through the air with a strike. Zoro blocks it, the sound of metal clanging. His gaze turns to steel, pinning his opponent down. He steps back onto the hilts of Kitetsu and Shusui, the two swords flipping up into the air. He bites the Wado firmly between his teeth, the two blades falling from the air into his hands with a practiced flourish.

The dark-haired swordsman charges forward, thrusting his sword out. Two blades meet one, beating it down. Sparks fly off the swords and he pushes Zoro backward.

"Interesting," the larger man murmurs to himself as he watches the green-haired pirate sidestep him. His lips curl into a knowing smirk. "Your skills are better than what I expected."

"A good swordsman is always prepared," Zoro retorts, swinging his weapons to push him away.

The stranger jumps back, avoiding the swords easily. His expression shifts from smug to impressed. "I'm curious though. Where'd you learn to fight like that?" he asks, dodging and blocking another hit.

"Experience," Zoro replies smoothly, jumping out of the way. "Now let me finish you."

The larger man laughs loudly. It sounds strange and scratchy coming from someone who seems so composed. "No."

Zoro launches forward with a speed that makes his muscles ripple. He crosses his two swords across his torso, the blade in his mouth behind them. He swings the swords across his chest, slicing into the stranger's arm, catching him off guard. He spins around once more and lands right in front of the other swordsman. Their swords clash again.

Sparks fly in every direction. The swordsman dodges quickly. He twists around Zoro and cuts the side of his thigh with a calculated swipe. Zoro hisses in pain and drops to his knees, clutching at his leg. "Damn it!" he growls through clenched teeth, pulling the sword back.

The other man smirks and leaps backward, out of reach of the swords. "So full of fire. That's going to get you killed sooner or later."

"I've won against swordsmen stronger than you."

The man laughs, throwing his head back. His headband falls lower on his forehead. "Really? And who exactly are you?"

Zoro doesn't respond. He rises quickly and swings towards him, aiming low with his swords. The swordsman parries each blow and then comes forward, pushing his attacks. They move faster now, sending blows back and forth. Their swords hit hard with an echoing crack. Both men pause for a moment, panting harshly as they hold on tightly to their swords. They stare at each other, chests rising and falling rapidly.

The swordsman studies Zoro, catching his breath. Then he speaks. “I’ll let you live. For now. He pulls his sword back quickly, spinning on his heel and disappearing in a spin.

Zoro curses. He stands, leaning heavily against the bridge wall. His entire side hurts. He grits his teeth, ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder. He looks around carefully, listening for traces of the stranger, but there are none. He’s gone.

The pirate lets his arms drop to his sides and slumps against the edge of the bridge, breathing shallowly. His mind whirls. What a strange guy.

Zoro manages to find a nearby village. Hopefully, they have something strong enough for the headache today has been causing. When he arrives at the village center, he's surprised to see the villagers staring at him suspiciously. They point at him as he crosses the street, spotting what seems to be a bar. He hears some muttering about a strange swordsman, but he ignores them, continuing into the building. There’s a crowd gathered outside. Zoro finds a seat at the bar, placing his swords next to him.

The bartender stares curiously at him. She glances at him quickly, her blue eyes lingering on his blood-stained clothing. "What will it be, sir?” she finally asks, not quite looking at him.

Zoro takes another moment to look over her. She seems to be around Nami’s age. Her hair is long and brown, with several braids woven together and hanging over her shoulders. She wears simple clothes and doesn't seem like a threat at first glance, but he doesn't trust her either.

He orders some sake and then looks around, taking stock of everything that’s happening in the room. It appears to be some sort of gathering place or tavern for the locals. At a table near the door sits a young man with dark hair. He smiles at the person who's talking to him, a wide grin splitting his cheeks. Some lady is next to him. Her hands are gripping his arm tightly. A few people stand around the table. One of them is an old man. He leans forward as they talk.

Another man sits next to him at the table. He eyes Zoro’s swords warily, but slumps against the counter when the bartender returns. He throws up two fingers and she nods her head wordlessly, grabbing a cup for the bottle of sake she’d just opened. She pours it carefully out of the green bottle, setting it on the counter in front of Zoro.

He leans his elbows on the counter, taking a sip of his drink. The alcohol burns down his throat pleasantly. It dulls the ache in his side and makes him focus on something else. It still throbs and stings occasionally, but it's manageable now.

“Any luck this time?” she asks the man next to him. He’s holding his head in his hands like he’s nursing a headache too.

“None,” he groans. “I’m telling you, I think Riko made the whole thing up. I’ve been hunting all day and there’s no sign of it anywhere.”

The bartender hums, drying a dish with a grey cloth in her hand. “Maybe it left already. Aren’t boars supposed to be pretty fast critters?”

The hunter shakes his head. “I would have at least seen tracks, or shit, or something. I’m telling you, I don’t think the russet boar exists.”

“What a shame,” she gives him a sympathetic look. “Could’ve made a good payday off of that. Not every day you see a russet boar.” She pours him a cup of sake, eyeing him with a pitiful look on her face. “This one’s on the house.”

“Thanks,” he grunts, downing it in one go.

Zoro breaks the silence. “What’s a russet boar?”

The man next to him gives him a bleary look. “Supposedly, the mother of all boars. It’s big, it’s red— if you can find one, sell it to a butcher shop, I’m sure you can make some decent money off of that.”

“And you say it was spotted in the area?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, tipping the cup to get the last drop of sake out. “You seen anything?”

Zoro shakes his head. “Nothing I can think of.” He falls into silence again, letting the chatter of patrons go from one ear out the other.

Something hits the door with a loud crash. Someone starts cursing up a storm outside, although it’s hard to hear what he’s saying between his screams.

“Fuck,” the man next to Zoro exclaims. “Riko!”

The bartender’s eyes widen. “Do you think—”

The door falls down with a thud, and a large boar with a man holding on to its tail comes barrelling through towards the bar. It jumps up on the counter, knocking over some plates and cups before jumping back down on the floor.

“Maz, you dumbass,” he snarls at the man, “come and help me out!”

Maz jumps to his feet, pulling out a small dagger from his belt. “I got this, Riko, stay still!”

Riko pulls on the tail, his brows furrowed with effort and jaw clenched. “No, shit! I’m trying,” he grits between his teeth.

The two men lunge forward, hitting each other in the head with a resounding bonk before falling down to the floor, unconscious. Riko releases the boar’s tail, and it runs between them and back out the door.

The bar is silent. No one knows what to make out of the sudden events.

“YEAH!!!! WOOHOO! GGO BROAR,” a drunkard yells, his drink up high in the air. “I DID’N KNOW WWE GO’ FRREE ENTERTAINHMEN’ TOO!”

The crowd laughs, before settling back into the comfortable chatter of before.

“That’s enough for you,” the bartender tells the drunk man, swapping out his drink with a mug of water. He whines but accepts it nonetheless.

She grabs a broom and starts cleaning up the mess the boar left behind.

“Hardy bunch, aren’t they?” Zoro says.

“You’ve got to be,” she quips, “if you want to survive in the Land of the Waves.” She stares at him, resting her arm on the broom handle. “Where are you from, anyway? You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

"Really? What gave it away?" he asks sarcastically.

She pretends to think deeply, stroking her chin. "Hmm. You've got some pretty bright hair. Definitely a foreigner."

Zoro raises an eyebrow. "Bright hair?"

She shrugs nonchalantly. "Your hair is really green."

"So," Zoro smirks smugly, "you think I'm a tourist?"

The woman scoffs. "It isn't that weird. The waves bring in smaller boats sometimes. You must have gotten lost somehow."

He rolls his eyes. "I don't get lost."

She snorts. "Sure you don't."

His eyebrow twitches. The bar grows quiet again, and he looks up to see a man standing at the door frame, surrounded by several others.

"Gato,” the old man seated at the table greets solemnly, getting to his feet. A few more people gather around him. The old man nods curtly, looking at this Gato guy with a mixture of anger and distrust in his eyes. They're glaring daggers at one another.

The tavern door opens again with a creak. Two more figures walk into the tavern. One is familiar, with a bandage wrapped around his bare arm.

The swordsman? What was he doing here?

“Ah, Tazuna!” Gato greeted the old man, who seemed to be drunk. “I didn’t expect you here!” He walks further into the bar, motioning for everyone around him to continue their previous conversations.

Tazuna huffs nervously, leaning back into his seat. He looks slightly uneasy. "I could say the same about you," he grumbles.

Gato chuckles, gazing around the tavern. “Still on about building that bridge?” he speaks loudly, eyeing the reactions of the others. “You know it won’t amount to anything.”

The old man raises a brow. “We’ll see about that,” he returns mysteriously, raising the drink in his hand.

The swordsman and his smaller friend take the seats on Zoro’s right at the bar. The bartender looks over her shoulder at the young person accompanying the stranger.

“We don’t serve children here.”

The mysterious swordsman stares her down. “We’re with Gato.”

It seemed to be the right thing to say. She quickly turns the other way, ignoring their presence.

Zoro continues sipping at his drink. This is what, his sixth cup? He wipes his mouth, savoring the taste. He glances at the stranger on his right, who looks like he wants to say something to him.

"That sword of yours," he begins, staring at the pile of swords on the seat next to him. "It's cursed."

"I know," Zoro replies bluntly. Great, another Tashigi - just what he needed.

The stranger nods. "How'd you come across a cursed blade?"

"How did you recognize one?" the green-haired pirate shoots back.

The swordsman's brow quirks up. "I've got one of my own. Answer the question."

Zoro crosses his arms. "It was given to me."

A long awkward silence follows after the statement. The swordsman and the kid turn to stare at Gato and Tazuna. Kid seems well-behaved enough. Definitely nothing like Luffy.

"Psst-" the bartender whispers. "Greenie. That guy next to you? He's a missing-nin." She gives him a cautious glance.

Zoro relaxes in his seat, downing another cup of sake. It just keeps getting refilled somehow. "Don't know what that means," he grunts. "Don't care."

She glares. "It means he's a missing fugitive," she adds.

"Oh. So he has a bounty or something." The swordsman remarks, taking another gulp.

"Aren't you a shinobi? Shouldn't you know this stuff?"

Zoro's eyes widen in confusion. "Me? A ninja? How'd you get to that conclusion?"

She rolls her eyes. "Are you kidding? All those swords around you, and the way you hold yourself." She looks at him suspiciously. "Did you steal them?"

The swordsman looks offended. "Of course not!" he growls. "Who do you take me for?"

She looks unconvinced. "Look at your chest, then!" she exclaims. "That big scar - no civilian has scars like that!" Zoro crosses his arms over his chest. The bartender has the decency to look embarrassed. "That's not what I meant."

"Scars on the back are a swordsman's shame."

"So you've got some kind of code, then? Bushido?"

He hums. "Something like that."

The swordsman next to him turns in interest. "You a samurai?" he asked, tilting his head.

Zoro stays silent. The man next to him leans forward to the bartender. "I'll take two bottles." He turns to Zoro, offering a challenging gaze.

He smirks. Two can play this game. "Drinking on the job?"

"Do you have a problem with that?"

Zoro doesn't even bother answering. Instead, he leans over the wooden table, grabs one of the bottles of sake off of it, and chugs it in one go.

“Wow,” the swordsman comments dryly, rolling his eyes. “I'm impressed." He opened the other two bottles and downed them in seconds.

Zoro narrowed his eyes. So this was how it was going to be, huh? He grabbed two more bottles and tilted his head back as he poured the contents of one down his throat. The swordsman watches him with amused eyes as he popped the other bottle open.

"Good boy, now finish it," the swordsman coos, patting him on the head.

Zoro slams both bottles down onto the wooden table in sync with one another. There were loud cheers of approval all around them from the customers.

The kid next to the swordsman pulls on his shirt with a concerned look. "Are you sure this is a good idea right now?" he whispers, but Zoro can make it out under his soft breath.

The swordsman stills before turning to the green-haired pirate and giving him a nod of acknowledgment. You win.

The bartender snorts. "Pot," she mumbles, "meet kettle."

Zoro sighs before he gets up, grabs his swords, tosses a bag of berries on the counter to the bartender, and starts for the door.

“Hey,” she calls out, bag in hand. “You can’t pay with this.”

He stops at the door. “Oh?” he says sarcastically, turning around and smiling wryly.

She glares up at him, resolve set in her eyes. “I’m serious. I don’t know where you got this money from, but we don’t accept it here.”

Zoro shrugs. “Then leave it.”

“You can’t do that!” she exclaims indignantly.

“The hell I can. I’m a pirate,” Zoro retorts, shoving his hands into his pockets. He starts walking again.

“A pirate, huh?” the swordsman murmurs.

Gato, who’s been watching the whole exchange silently and sizing up the green-haired swordsman, laughs suddenly. “Haha! So you can’t pay off your drinks? I have a proposition for you. Why don’t you work for me, and I’ll pay off your tab?”

Zoro pauses for a moment. “No thanks,” he shrugs.

"Come on, now,” Gato says, waving his hand dismissively. "You seem like a strong man, and I bet you know how to use those swords you carry around. Don’t tell me you aren’t interested.”

“I won’t, then.”

“You reckless youth!” he exclaims, face turning red. “No respect for your elders. I’m offering you a chance to make an honest living.”

Tazuna snorts into his drink. “Yeah, right!"

"Look, this job pays good,” the businessman insists, giving the old man a dirty look. “You’d be a very useful addition to my crew.”

“I don’t need your money,” Zoro states bluntly, eyeing the greedy man. “And I’m certainly not working for someone like you.”

“I’ll pay off your tab,” a gravelly voice interrupts. Zoro turns. The kid next to him looks up with a confused look on his face. The swordsman just smirks lightly, his brow rising a little. “If you give me your name.”

He stills, arms crossed over his chest, three swords resting on his back. “It’s Roronoa Zoro.”

The swordsman gives him a once over, looking at him for a long time without saying anything. He nods slowly after a moment. “Momochi Zabuza. May our blades cross again one day.”

“It’ll be your funeral,” Zoro shrugs, turning away and stepping out the tavern door.

[LOST masterlist]

#one piece x naruto #one piece #naruto #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #roronoa zoro #zabuza momochi

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