#zonami fic

   "Laisse-moi," she mumbled, turning her back to the voice so her front was pressed against Zoro's chest.

   Nami!

   “Maman…?” She shuddered. Suddenly, the blankets weight seemed oppressive, the air thick. A whimper escaped her lips.

   “Nami! Are you–?” Usopp’s voice cut through the fog of her mind. With a gasp, Nami bolted upright, throwing the blankets off her body.

   “–okay?” He stared at her, confused. “I didn’t know you spoke French.”

   “I forgot,” she said simply. Partially true. It was just that forgetting was harder when you slept. She wiped her face and was surprised to find tears wetting her palms. “What am I doing here?”

   Usopp sighed. “Long story. How do you feel?”

   “I’d feel better if I knew what was wrong with me,” Nami shot back.

   “You really don’t remember?” he asked, then shook his head. “Chopper said that might happen. You remember that mist, though, don’t you?”

   “Of course,” she replied, surprised. The blob that haunted the peripheral of her maps confused everyone on board, but it especially frustrated Nami. The crew had tried to avoid it, but eventually they had no choice but steer the ship through its mass. Nami could recall the crew on deck, everyone assigned to a station, all anxiously watching the horizon. Then–

   She rubbed her eyes, pressing her fists against her head until spots bloomed in her vision. “I remember we saw, like, this reddish fog, and then I felt…”

   Heat. Burning, searing heat. It stole the air around her and pressed against her skin. Her lips cracked and her skin tightened on her bones as she choked on the air, suddenly too heavy for her to inhale.

   They had been expecting monsters, Marines. Not nature in its full force.

   “The heat got us all.” Usopp’s voice faded back into existence as her memories reached a dead end. “Chopper got the brunt of it, with his fur and all, and most everyone ended up with a variety of burns.”

   Nami looked down at her skin, noticing, for the first time, the red patches on her skin. “So, why are Zoro and I…?”

   A thought came to her, back from the day she dedicated herself to an anatomy textbook she had bought (more like stolen, but that merchant deserved it) and read while leaning on Zoro’s shoulder, reading aloud the most interesting passages while he pretended to understand, the sound of water lapping at the portholes of his bedroom lulling him to sleep. He had made an off-handed complaint about his arms feeling sore, and she pointed at a line about heat’s loosening effect on muscles. All the heat from the mist, enveloping him in a matter of seconds….

   She rested her hand on Zoro’s arm, panic rising in her throat. Sure enough, the muscles under his skin felt different–looser, deflated. Weak.

   “You steered the ship away from the mist,” Usopp continued, his voice soft. “I saw you stumble to the mast and grab the wheel and just….” Nami could detect a hint of awe and pride as he spoke. “You dragged yourself through the worst of the storm to save us.”

   She didn’t feel brave. “Will he be okay?” she whispered, scared of his answer.

   Usopp coughed to cover his knowing smirk. “He’ll need physical therapy, a lot of work, but we can fix what the heat did.”

   Nami choked back a sob of relief. “Thank you,” she murmured. She buried her head in Usopp’s shoulder, squeezing him in a tight, shaky hug. He mussed her hair playfully when she released him. “Please don’t tell anyone else I’m awake,” she said, and he nodded, closing the door behind him with a quiet clack.

   She waited until she heard his footsteps recede from the doorway, heard her crewmates’ voices rumbling through the floorboards, before she collapsed back into bed. She pressed her lips against Zoro’s chest, letting her hot tears soak the thin shirt covering his skin, and prayed, prayed to anyone she could think of. Bellemere, Nojiko… heal him, please, please, don’t let him suffer like this, please, save him….

She shot up from the bed, throwing off her blanket and pressing her face to the window. "Zoro!"

She heard him groan behind her. "Leave me alone," he mumbled.

"Snow! Zoro, look!" She cracked open the window and stuck her head outside.

She heard him grunt in annoyance before he shuffled out of bed and joined her at the window. He rubbed his eyes and squinted out the window. "Snow?"

Her giggle turned into a laugh as a snowflake settled on her tongue. "I haven't seen snow since I was a kid."

"So this is what snow is?" He reached out, flinching when a snowflake landed on his finger. "This is the first time I've ever seen it."

She drew back and leaned her head on his shoulder. For a minute, they stood together, watching the snow drift to the ground.

Finally, Zoro pressed a kiss to her forehead and pulled away. "You know," he said, the ghost of a grin on his face, "I think we still might have that sled you bought a few years ago."

-

The next day, she was still there. She smiled at him again. He tried to smile back, but, from the confusion on her face, he guessed it looked more like a grimace.

-

The third day, he left from the dojo's back entrance.

-

The fourth day, she caught him coming in. "Swordsman!" She waved from her stand.

He froze.

She beamed at him and held up a tangerine.

He continued to the dojo without looking back.

-

The fifth day, he could barely stand to look at the hurt on her face.

-

The sixth day, he walked up to her stand. She looked up, shocked, as he held up 100 Beli.

"How much do your tangerines cost?" he asked.

"50 Beli." She grinned up at him. "But I'll give you a discount."

-

The seventh day, he gathered the courage to talk to her.

-

Nami sat up, ignoring the screaming pain that shot through her body every time she moved. The sheet slid off her chest, revealing bandages wrapped around her shoulders.

She felt something shift beside her and almost jumped. Two black eyes met hers and her muscles untensed. “Zoro?”

His eyes drifted downwards. “Jesus, what happened to you?”

She bit back a retort and looked down at the bandages around her body. “Whatever it was, it was bad.”

“Jesus,” Zoro said again, softer this time, and she felt her cheeks grow warm.

“I’m fine,” Nami protested, scrubbing her cheeks. “You’re not unscathed either.”

He surveyed his own bandages with disinterest. “I’ll survive.”

“And so will I.” She sighed and settled back on her bed. “I hate being like this.”

“Like what?” She felt Zoro shift beside her. “Weakened?”

“Something like that.”

“You’ll get used to it.” He dropped his head on the pillow and smirked. “And it has its perks, doesn’t it?”

“I guess.” Nami sighed and pressed her face to the back of his neck. “Now shut up and let me sleep.”

Nami and Zoro were the only ones left around the table. Nami had her feet propped up on the table and was casually shuffling her cards. She glanced at Zoro and cocked an eyebrow. "You don't have all the time in the world, you know."

Zoro sighed and stared at his cards under the table. After a beat, he tossed a card on the table.

She shuffled her cards again, pausing for only a moment before sliding a card over the teetering stack at the middle of the table. "Your turn."

Nami slid her cards from one hand to the other, waiting for Zoro to place his card. When he didn't move, she looked up. He was staring at her, his hands raised.

"No cards," he said simply.

She gaped at him, then down at her five remaining cards, then back at him. "Out of..." The enormity of the situation hit her. "You beat me?"

Zoro shrugged. "Got lucky, I guess."

"Lucky?! Are you kidding me? I bet 1,000 Beli on this match, Zoro!" She grabbed the pile of cards on the table and furiously shuffled them. "Rematch, then."

He sighed and pushed away from the table. "Actually, I think I'm going to be going to bed."

"Wait!" Nami tossed the cards on the table, scattering them over the table. She reached out. "Just one--"

He whirled around and Nami's voice died in her throat. He was looking down at her, his chin lifted in defiance, and her hand was hovering over his chest, and she was looking up at him and all she had to do was tilt her head upwards and...

Nami hadn't realized that she was leaning forward until Zoro stopped her, pressing a hand to her shoulder. "Don't you dare."

She stepped back and crossed her arms. "One more round."

"I can't believe you," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Fine."

"Zoro?" Nami's voice seemed unnaturally loud through the phone. "Can you hear me?"

"Is anything wrong?" He furrowed his brow. Nami never called when he was at work. She was lucky she caught him on a slow day. There were a few customers ordering their drinks, but Usopp seemed to be taking care of it. When he sent Zoro a questioning look, Zoro grimaced in apology and gestured to his phone.

"Kind of?" He heard her sigh. "Have you seen my hairbrush?"

"Don't you have, like... five?"

"I lost all of them, Zoro."

"All at once? How...?!"

"I think I left them all in my bag, and I think I left the bag in your car, and I think you took the car."

"In the car?" Zoro frowned. "I didn't see anything in the car,but I can check--"

There was a clatter on the other end of the line, almost making Zoro jump. "I left them in the bathroom!" she cried, relief filling her voice. "Sorry, Zoro! I was wrong! Love ya!"

"Love you too," he muttered. He kept the phone to his ear until he could hear the dial tone. He sighed and put it back in his pocket, returning to the front.

Usopp engorged pleasure centered an eyebrow. "Was it an emergency?"

"She lost her hairbrushes."

He nodded solemnly. "Emergency."

"Nami, that's my shirt."

"So?" She shrugged, letting one sleeve slip down her shoulder.

"They don't even fit you, Nami." He pulled up the sleeve. She stuck out her tongue at him.

"Why do you always take my shirts, anyway?"

"They're big." She flapped her arms and her sleeve fell down again.

"It's unfair," he complained. "You steal my clothes but I can't steal yours."

She crossed her arms. "Why not?"

He raised his eyebrows and stared at her for a moment, and she snorted. "Don't humor yourself. You're not that big." She threw him one of the shirts lying on her bed, a soft pink tank top. "Try it."

He sighed and pulled off his shirt. "I can't believe I'm doing this." He caught a glimpse of her over his shoulder. "And I can see you staring."

After a brief struggle, he turned around again to face her. "See?"

"What do you mean?" Her face betrayed no emotion.

"Nami." He covered his face and groaned. "This is basically a crop top on me."

"Nah, you look fine." Her voice was almost completely even, except for a slight tremor.

Zoro crossed his arms and scowled. As he lifted his arms, he heard a small tearing noise. Nami froze for one second, her lip twitching, before she broke out laughing.

"Hey," Zoro admitted as Nami wiped away her tears. "It is pretty comfortable."

"It's your turn to wash the dishes, Nami."

She rolled her eyes. "No, it's not."

"Yes, it is.” He frowned. “I did it last time, remember? And I almost dropped the plate, and I caught it just in time, and you thought I dropped it and you yelped and I almost dropped it again."

Nami tilted her head. "Yeah, but I did it after that."

Zoro groaned. "Wh--? Okay, fine. Compromise. We both do it at the same time."

"Only if you wash and I dry."

"At least I get the spray gun," he huffed.

"Dang," Nami whispered.

He grabbed the spray gun and yanked it away from her. "You said you'd dry."

"Can we switch?" she begged, pouting.

Zoro levelled the spray gun at her and pulled the trigger. Nami shrieked as water droplets landed on her hair, hanging there like pearls. For a second, she hesitated, staring at him in shock.

Then, she suddenly lunged forward, grabbing the spray bottle and shooting it at Zoro. Fortunately for him, he ducked and she missed. When he straightened up again, ready to take the spray gun back, she squirted him in the face. Nami doubled over with laughter at his expression as he stared at the kitchen walls, dripping water.