I do not own anything besides these words and the cover art.

Zoro minded his own business and his business was about staying fit, 24/7. There was no real reason to it, other than it distracted him. Yet, as he lifted the weights high over his head and brought them down with nothing more than a squeak, he ignored the warmth he felt from the set of brown eyes on him. He did not pay her any attention as she bounced into the room and twirled her headphone cord around her finger. Nor did he notice the way her shorts curved around her body and emphasized her full frame. Her short orange hair curled outward at the ends but still swayed with her every movement. No, he was not watching.

Zoro wiped his face and headed to the bench press. He managed to make a loop around the gym, but she still followed, no, stalked. Zoro grimaced at the thought but focused on his routine and locked down whatever strange feelings rose. His sights were set on the lonely bench press, glad to have space to himself, but the orange hair girl slipped by him like the wind and sat down in front of him.

He was taken aback at the vanilla and tangerine smell that faintly mixed with the sweat and metal of the gym. He cleared his throat and began his request, "Oh, I was going to use that."

She blinked and took out an earbud, "I'm sorry?"

Zoro hated small talk as much as he hated waiting, but he hated repeating himself even more. Reluctantly, he exhaled and calmed himself.

"I said I was going to use that." He pointed to the equipment that she sprawled herself on. He raised an eyebrow as her stance as if she was posed for a provocative picture.

She wrinkled her brows innocently. "But I'm on it right now."

Zoro fumed, "I know! I'm saying you-"

He watched her lean back in fear, so he took a moment and blew out sharply.

"Fine, whatever. I'm after you."

She put her earbud back in and mumbled, "Okay, roid rage."

Zoro hated that phrase even more than her asinine attitude, so he plucked out her earbuds as she relaxed back onto the bench.

"Listen, lady. I'm not on steroids!"

The woman blinked while her long eyelashes fluttered and then sneered at him. Zoro wondered why she looked at him with a vicious stare when most people ran in fear. She settled underneath the bar and shrugged.

"Rude much? Look, man, I'm sure you just bench press 180 with your natural talent."

She said it with a certain measure of insincerity, or more specifically sarcasm, and Zoro registered it just fine.

"290, witch. And I'm sure you can't even do 80!"

He noticed the firm lines of her small but defined muscles in her forearms. Zoro trained for a while, so 290 was his average warm up. He looked over her fit form, and second-guessed his numbers and put her at 95; however, he was not going to tell that to her smug overconfident face. Her cleavage flashed in her deep V-neck shirt as it clung to her, but it also hid her arms from the elbows up so Zoro assumed the rest of her bravado was just a facade.

However, the girl bit back, "Ha! Watch me!"

She lifted the bar off the rack, but instead of 80 pounds in total, there were 80 pounds on each side. Her arms strained under the 160 pounds and Zoro quickly grabbed the bar while he hovered over her.

"Oi! Stop! You're going to crush yourself." He did not want to kill her, just get her off the machine.

"What. Does. It. Matter. To. You. Asshole." Each word escaped through clenched teeth as she resisted underneath the weight.

"I work here and would prefer to not clean your pulverized body off the equipment. Look, even if you lifted daily, at best you could do is maybe 145. This is 160, so let go!"

Zoro's one arm held onto the metal bar sufficiently enough that he could put it back, but her grip was strong.

"No. You let go and I'll put it back!"

Her defiant gaze met his eyes, and from his angle, her deep scowl looked like a smile or a cat's evil grin.

"Are you stupid? This is 160 pounds! You need a spotter! This is probably only 30 pounds heavier than you!" He shouted at her, and the rest of the gym finally took notice of their little squabble.

"Motherfu-" she raged, "I am a perfect 118, asshole! Now, get your sweaty groin out of my face and I'll be fine!"

She twisted her head on the bench to get a different view than Zoro's shorts, but it was to no avail. Zoro strained to keep his temper in check and she did nothing but nuzzle her head into his crotch. Regardless, the sensation shocked him, and he loosened his grip on the heavy bar unintentionally. She took the opportunity to press as hard as she could and put the bar back in its place with a huff.

Zoro glanced down to see her pant slightly, but she managed a wink with a tongue stuck out playfully.

"See? I did just fine!"

Zoro only grimaced in response and tried not to acknowledge how close she was to head butting his groin nor the slight admiration he had for her strength. As if she read his mind, she quickly shot up in the prideful victory. However, instead of a clean sweep of hair over her shoulder, she shook the whole machine as her face hit the bar. Zoro managed to grip it before it could jump off and crush her for good, but whereas most people would look to her injury, Zoro nearly collapsed in laughter. She glared at him while she rubbed her bruised nose, eyes wet with tears.

"Yeah, laugh it up, you jerk."

She was quieter now, all her boasting seeped out of her like the nosebleed she got. Zoro stopped laughing to realize she hurt herself.

"Oh shit, okay. Here."

He handed her his towel off his shoulder, and she placed it on her nose to stop the blood flow. He rose and gave her his hand, but she swatted it away and nimbly maneuvered around the bar this time.

Zoro shrugged it off and began to walk, calling over his shoulder, "Come on. The front desk would have a first aid kit."

Chest puffed at her pain and his amusement for the day, he did not pay attention to the "Caution: Wet Floor" sign in front of him. He smirked at her deflated nature, as he tilted backward. Zoro watched the ceiling come into focus slowly until he collided with a softness he could not claim to be hard tiles nor soft mats soaked with sweat.

"Oof!" Nami exclaimed as she made contact with the hard floor, as Zoro laid on top of her. She tried to hook her arms under his arms and bend her knees to catch his massive frame as he tumbled backward, but his weight pushed both of them down. With blood slightly dried out of her nostrils, she managed a smile.

"You comfy? Or do you need me to pick you up too, lightweight?"

Zoro hid his shame as he tried to move off her, but it seemed like their bodies molded themselves to one another. It did not help that she practically caged him in with her legs, so whatever he touched was bare skin, her bare skin to be precise. As she pushed him back up, her hands grazed up his shirt and he felt a flutter somewhere in his stomach. He cleared his throat and went on, "Whatever. Just follow me, Pinocchio. Your nose grew three times bigger with that hit."

"Yeah, well, at least I can stay on my feet."

He stuffed his hands in his shorts and refused to turn around least she had to catch him from falling again, "It was slippery. This was an accident."

"And water is wet. You should know better, Mr. I-Work-Here-But-Have-Terrible-Customer-Service."

As they reached the door, he pulled it open for her.

"I don't usually deal with idiots who want to prove something to strangers."

She gave him a quick look over, and Zoro suddenly felt self-conscious at her pause. She smiled and grabbed his free hand and shook it slowly. He apparently forgot what a handshake was because he just stared at her while she continued to hold his hand in a claw-like embrace.

"Hi, I'm Nami. Now, we're not strangers."

Zoro blinked as his body moved on its own, content with the softness of her palm and unnatural familiarity.

"Uh, Zoro. You gonna let go of my hand now?"

Nami grinned and held on, "Not until you agree to train me."

"No. I don't take clients. They can't keep up with me."

Nami put her hand on her hip and poked him in the chest.

"Good thing I can handle you. Or would you like to do another trust fall?"

Zoro's face darkened as his embarrassment rose, "Like I said. It was an accident."

"Don't worry, tough guy. I won't hold it against you," she mumbled underneath her hand, "unlike how you held onto me while you 'tried' to get up."

Zoro stiffened and did not appreciate her insinuation that he wanted to lay against her, but Nami continued proudly, "But you owe me for this injury."

She directed his eyes to her bruised face.

"That was self-inflicted!" Zoro shouted, door still open to her.

Nami crossed her arms and blinked her eyes until they were wet.

"Are you saying this gym doesn't take responsibility for injuring potential clients? Are you saying you rather have me bruised and upset than give me a week-long free trial of personalized training?"

Zoro watched her with his mouth hung open. It was as if she rehearsed every word, and as people beyond the door whispered about "calling management" and "getting someone fired", Zoro tensed.

"Okay, witch. I'll give you a week, and if you can't handle it, you lose and leave me alone." Zoro talked down to her as if that kept his sense of pride and strength intact, but Nami only giggled.

"I don't lose. Ever. So, let's stop wasting time. When's our first session?"

Zoro watched the brown eyes look at him as if he was a doll she had finished playing with, and he cursed himself because he felt he was going to pay dearly for this in the future.

Thank You for reading Chapter 1 of The Fighter. This is going to be quite a journey, and I hope you'll travel with me:)

Music Inspiration/Theme: "Love Lockdown" (Glass Animals Cover)

Image Art (c) shipfiend