The voice chuckled at him from the receiver.

"And she agreed!" Sanji exclaimed happily. Zoro could hear his friend's smile, painting the rest in his mind: a silver glint in the blue eyes, white teeth exposed in a wide, sincere grin. He must be really blissful now. However, Zoro wasn't able to answer him instantly – his breath somewhat froze, heart thudding intermittently.

"Marimo, do you hear me?" The man from the phone interrupted.

"Yeah. Congrats."

"Damn, I was so worried…" As emotional as Sanji's voice sounded, it was relieved. "I thought she would reject me."

"Why?" Zoro managed, sounding huskier than he wanted.

Light laughter flowed from the other end.

"Never mind. Will you be my best man?"

Dropping his sport bag to the floor, the green haired man shut the door and bended to unlace his heavy boots. The spring was in full swing, and he walked home on foot, not bothering to wear his leather jacket.

Not that he really was looking for an excuse and trying to catch a cold. If only unconsciously.

Entering the highlighted by the soft rays kitchen, Zoro threw a quick glance at the wall calendar. A week remained. He opened the fridge, taking a beer out. Puff – the cap opened. Bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a large gulp, Zoro stopped his eyes on a windowsill.

A pack of cigarettes was lying there, golden letters glimmering on the sun; it read All Blue. Tightening his fingers around the bottleneck, he approached, looking down at the pack.

Zoro couldn't recollect when he started to feel this way about his best friend.

They first met in elementary school, and the first thing they did was fight. The blond boy with ridiculously shaped eyebrows was cocky, noisy and nasty in every way possible. Even before their class started, the boy noticed Zoro and mocked him.

Moss ball.

An angry child as he was, a seven year old Roronoa Zoro shot him a glare. The impudent boy stuck out his tongue, smirking. The next moment they were wallowing in the mud of the schoolyard, beating each other with furious fists until their faces were covered in bruises.

No wonder they were bonding pretty fast after that. Always arguing but still somewhat similar, they started from loathing that oddly transformed into trust. Perhaps it was because of their fights; Zoro discovered the fun of it pretty soon, and so did Sanji. Their bickering slowly flowed into discussions, and the older they grew, the more obvious their resemblance became.

Sanji was still himself however – cocky, always amused of Zoro's rage. Zoro was calm, collected – the traits required for the swordsmanship his uncle was preparing him for – his blond friend was the only one who could knock Zoro's emotions out of him. They might have been different in that way, but the hearts of dreamers were destined to intertwine.

"I wish to own a restaurant when I grow up!" Sanji's smile was wide as he spoke, eyes flickering with enthusiasm.

"But your step-dad already owns one, doesn't he?" Zoro narrowed his eyes slightly, leaning to the metallic rod of a seesaw.

"Yep," The blonde boy grinned, swinging his legs in the air. "But I want to have my own. His restaurant is his restaurant, and mine will be mine, get it?"

Grinning, Zoro moved away from the rod.

"Well, I'll come visit you when I become a great swordsman."

"Deal!" Sanji jumped off the seat, bringing himself to his feet.

Always being together continued even when new students entered the school. Cheerful, always wearing a gleeful smile Luffy and a scared-cat yet a great storyteller Usopp somehow ended up being their close friends. However, Zoro and Sanji were closer to each other than to anyone else.

Years passed, and a fourteen year old Sanji was hit hard with a hormonal intoxication, wooing on every girl his not curtained eye caught. The whole new world of mocking came before Zoro: his blond friend acted so oblivious and annoying when whoever wearing a skirt passed them by.

"Idiot-cook," The green haired boy snorted, taking the offered lunch.

They were sitting on the roof during the long break. Sanji's old man was teaching him cooking, and his efforts were bringing surprisingly splendid results. Not that Zoro ever complimented his skill, but the blond's talent was incredible. Sanji gained even more respect in Zoro's mind, along with a new nickname.

"You are an idiot," Sanji rolled his eyes, opening his lunch box. Rich smell of rice, meat and vegetables made Zoro's mouth water, and he hurried to open his. "The girls are sweet flowers of magnificent beauty. You should be blind not to notice that."

"Whatever," Zoro shrugged, shoving food into his mouth eagerly. He did notice some of the girls in his sight became way more interesting, but not enough for him to act like a retarded moron to draw their attention. The result wasn't worth the humiliation.

A click of a lighter forced him to turn at the blond, harsh scent of nicotine reaching his nose.

"You're at school, moron," Zoro frowned. Ignoring, Sanji exhaled a puff of smoke. He wasn't looking at Zoro, and a golden curtain over his eyes glinted softly in the late morning sunrays. The wind wiggled his hair just slightly, blowing the smoke to the side. Zoro didn't dare to blink, suddenly realizing his breath was taken away.

Maybe that was the moment he started to have warmer feelings for the blond, Zoro wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything, if he had to be honest with himself. It didn't even matter when it had started, especially now.

He grabbed the pack from the windowsill, sliding one cigarette out and bringing it to his nose. Zoro didn't smoke usually: he needed his lungs for training, but he rarely allowed himself one. He might not enjoy the process that much, and the taste was nothing special, but the smell always reminded him of the cook.

With a beer in one hand and the cigarette in another he walked to the living room and opened the door to the balcony. The evening sun was fading slowly, spilling the last rays of warmth into the air. Contrasting with chilly breeze, it played on his skin, sending him goosebumps. Zoro shivered slightly and put the cigarette between his lips.

Whether he was realizing anything or not, his friendship with Sanji was never darkling. After they'd graduated the school, Sanji entered the college to study culinary, and Zoro was assigned to work in his uncle's dojo. For many people ending up in different places would mean they'd stop communicating, however, in their case nothing went wrong. They'd seen each other weekly, and Zoro was really happy for Sanji, whose skill was only increasing further, meaning his dream was likely to be achieved in the near future. And even if Zoro might have insecurities in reaching his own goal, Sanji's determination and ambition made him much more confident in his own dream.

One day, after a long and heavy training, Zoro received a call from the cook. His voice was overly excited when the swordsman picked up, and at first he wasn't able to spot actual words in the incoherent noises Sanji was making.

"She's stunning!" The blond almost screamed, his voice even more high-pitched that it was already, thanks to the mobile connection.

"Who?" Zoro asked, holding the phone a bit away from his ear so not to become deaf from the man's shouts.

"Nami! A girl entered courses in my college not long ago," Sanji explained a bit quieter. "She's so beautiful! I'm in love!"

Zoro frowned at his renewed screech. Something was telling him the idiot-cook was probably the only one in love there.

"Did you actually talk with her?" He asked, knowing the answer already.

"Of course no!" The blond snorted from the other end. "A lady of her marvelous glory deserves the best treatment, and I was…" he hesitated for a moment, "well, not in my best shape."

"Had a nosebleed again?" Zoro rolled his eyes, as if the blond could see that.

"Oh, fuck you," Sanji exhaled – apparently the smoke. "It happened only two times!" He inhaled noisily. "Well, maybe more, but nothing I can do about it."

Sanji was nineteen when he met Nami – as it appeared later, a really beautiful, smart and talented girl. The cook was trying to get her attention for a long period of time, sending her flowers, bringing lunches to the library, which was considered as her natural habitat. As far as the green haired man could understand, the girl wasn't really interested in the blond's courtesies at first – she was always deep in studying. One day Sanji finally found courage to invite her out on a date, and as a result they became friends – well, at least good acquaintances. Seeing Nami appreciating his attention more or less, Sanji gained more self-confidence. When he introduced Nami to Zoro, they seemed to become pretty good mates.

However, it took Sanji all of his college years to finally confess his feelings to Nami. As they graduated, she started to work in a meteorological company, and he went to work as a chef in his step-father's restaurant, the "Baratie". Zoro always thought Sanji was somewhat cheesy when it came to women, but the blond surprised him quite much with his seriousness about Nami.

"I don't deserve her," The blond smiled weakly, lighting up a cigarette.

It was Saturday night, and Sanji stayed at Zoro's place. He just told him about his confession to Nami, and the fact that she accepted his feelings was sudden for both him and Zoro.

"I think it's okay if she likes you," The green haired man shrugged, taking a sip of beer. "You were working up for it so long after all."

The corners of Sanji's mouth stretched wider, his hand landed onto Zoro's shoulder, patting it slightly. Zoro smiled back, feeling, however, his smile wasn't entirely sincere.

Of course the green haired man was glad that his best friend finally found his love, and Nami was a really good person, even if she could be irritable and harsh sometimes – who weren't? But something foreign was tightening Zoro's chest, preventing his happiness to form in a proper smile on his lips. Something bitter, uncomfortable, annoying – and Sanji's gentle hand didn't help at the slightest.

They came together almost two years ago already. One had to be blind not to notice how much Sanji treasured Nami, and for Zoro it was obvious enough. The two friends started to meet rarer: the cook had loads of work in the restaurant and only two days of the weekend to spend with his beloved girlfriend. The swordsman didn't want to interrupt them. Of course he'd been invited to every party they had, and just once in a while Sanji stayed at Zoro's place.

That evening Sanji looked like he was pissed with the entire world. A rude customer insulted his soup and then, after receiving a kick to his nasty mug, left a claim in a restaurant book of complaints. It was already good that he hadn't called the police (Sanji suspected, Zeff probably sorted this out).

"I didn't want to cause any trouble for the shitty geezer," The blond exhaled the smoke harshly, his nose wrinkling. He passed a pack to Zoro, grabbing a beer from the coffee table. "But that damned bastard! How dare he complain about the food?" He took a large sip and thudded the bottle over the glass surface, barely not breaking it.

Not knowing what to respond, Zoro just snatched the bottle from his friend's tensed hand, putting it aside, and brought himself up, gazing at Sanji from above.

"Stand up," He uttered, meeting the blond's tipsy eyes.

"For what?" Sanji snorted.

Zoro's fist flashed right in front of his nose. Hardly managing, the cook stopped the green haired man's arm in a grasp.

"What the-" He didn't have a chance to finish, before they were already fighting. Ending up on the floor after several strong yet missed blows, they clenched each other tightly, panting. The cook weakened his grip on Zoro's collar and smiled. The swordsman grinned back, now from below.

"Feeling better?" His teeth flashed in a wide smirk.

"Yeah," Sanji chuckled, sitting up and into the man's lap, reaching to pick his unfinished cigarette. "Thanks."

They watched some movies in comforting silence that was only interrupted with Sanji's occasional laughs. Each time Zoro heard Sanji's laughter, he couldn't help but hide a smile on his face. After a couple of hours he noticed the blond had fallen asleep right on the couch they were sitting on. His breathing was peaceful, and all the nervous wrinkles straightened in unconsciousness. The green haired man brought a blanket from the bedroom to cover the fatigued cook.

He couldn't fall asleep that night. Shifting in his cold bed, he was pursued by endless chains of anxious thoughts. Something about Sanji's quiet face was causing an inexplicable disturbance in his soul.

Maybe the reason was that he'd never wake up in the same bed with the cook at the break of dawn. Never would he embrace him tightly, brush his golden hair away from his forehead and press his lips to it. Never would he watch him wake up, a drowsy smile on his unshaven face. Never would he hear "Good morning" from the blond with his deep, husky voice – not just a casual greeting, but the one that would make mornings really good.

Zoro envied Nami so much.

It was painful for him to admit it. Nami was everything for Sanji, and if Zoro was a good friend, he should be happy for them. Not that he wasn't, but every time he saw the red haired girl kissing or hugging his friend, grabbing his hand or smiling at him meaningfully, something uneasy trembled inside him, as if a redundant limb.

Standing on the balcony, Zoro sighed. The cigarette he'd lighted and forgot to smoke made him aware of its end, prickling his lips with a burned edge of the filter. The sun was close to the horizon line, and the breeze became colder.

Zoro was strong, bold, collected. He couldn't allow himself to act thoughtlessly as many people probably would in his situation. No matter when it had started, he loved Sanji far more than just a friend. However, he could never grant him the happiness that the cook deserved. Starting from the fact that the blond was obviously into women and ending with the existence of his girlfriend – no matter how the green haired man looked at it, his feelings seemed so wrong to him. Even if Sanji would never meet Nami, it'd be another woman, a woman he'd love and adore. A woman who would make him feel good and pacify his overly emotional nature.

It all made sense in Zoro's mind; however, his stubborn heart was refusing to agree. He locked this stupid feeling shut: deep, tight, never letting a fracture of it spill out. But this contradiction between his rational side and this foreign, mysterious part was killing him. No matter how much the swordsman would meditate, train, standing under the cold shower – nothing would knock the emotions out of him, and it was pissing him off.

He should have been grateful even for a chance to be near Sanji. But being close and so far away at once was just making everything worse. Moving away was the easiest option for Zoro, but when he thought harder about it, a large amount of problems would definitely appear. If he would leave without any farewell, it'd make Sanji sad – angry mostly, but he would probably feel abandoned. Zoro couldn't tell him the reason, obviously. Then, even if he'd go with a French leave, he still had a goal to achieve; he still needed to train in Koshiro's dojo to straighten his skill and willpower. There was no way to escape for Zoro.

From somewhere seemed like far away, a thud sounded. Zoro's forehead wrinkled as he listened: someone was knocking on the door.

He stepped out of the balcony, quiet, closing the glass door after himself. Silent for a while, the thudding continued after several moments. The green haired man put the beer onto the coffee table, moving to the door. Working all days long and having just a small circle of friends, he wondered, who'd even came to visit him at a Friday night.

The opened door revealed Nami to his eyes. She was looking somewhere to the side, a thoughtful face with a scowl of hers changed to a lovely smile as the woman turned at him. In the dim light of the hall her long waved locks shined quietly, flowing gracefully down her camel suede jacket.

"Hi, Zoro," She uttered. The green haired man's sharp hearing caught a hint of disturbance in her voice. "May I come in?"

"Hi, sure," He gestured, trying not to show his surprise. Nami was a rare guest at his place; in fact, she'd been there only a couple of times with Sanji. Zoro couldn't even assume what brought her here now.

Clenching a purse in her fingers tightly, the red haired girl walked into the living room. Zoro followed her silently and stayed still as she approached the couch and sat down. Nami looked around shortly, and the corners of her mouth quivered as she noticed a bottle on the table.

"You want some?" Zoro asked her, knowing the answer beforehand. He had enough parties with Nami to know she was the best drinking buddy anyone could have. The girl nodded, crossing her legs and leaning to the back of the couch.

The green haired man came into the kitchen to pull some bottles out of the fridge. His fingers tightened on the glass, making his knuckles turn white.

Returning, Zoro found Nami standing near the bookshelf and peering at the framed photo. Confusion hit Zoro, making him freeze on the spot.

"I love this smile of his," She uttered. Her finger slid lightly over the photo, where both Zoro and Sanji were standing with awkward faces, wearing their school uniforms. "How old were you?" The red haired girl turned to him.

"Eighteen, maybe," The man shrugged, not meeting her soft brown eyes. "It was the last grade."

"You haven't changed," She chuckled, putting the frame down to its place and returning to the couch.

Zoro brought himself into a large armchair on the opposite of her. His muscles tensed in suspense of execution.

"Zoro," Nami said seriously, her gaze piercing and heavy. "I need to talk to you."

He raised his eyes. Nami's face was barely lightened with soft golden rays, her eyes radiating quietly. But when she blinked, Zoro noticed it wasn't warmth in them. It was wistfulness.

"I'm listening," He said bluntly, ready to receive sharp blades he wasn't able to block.

Lowering her gaze, the red haired girl stared at her nails, rubbing her fingers steadily. Sighing, she bent over the couch to grab her purse and pulled some papers out of it.

"Look at these," She handed them to Zoro, avoiding his concentrated gaze.

Blueprints of a building. Hi-tech styled, two floors, an entrance made of solid glass; some notes were written with differently colored ink: "main hall facing the shoreline", "large windows on the second floor". Going Merrywas crossed out on the last page, Thousand Sunny encircled below. A trail of sweat slid down Zoro's temple.

"Sanji invited me to his place yesterday, and I was already there when he called and said he'd be late," Nami's voice was quiet. "He asked if I didn't mind to wait for him, and I agreed. Then I found these in the paper bucket."

Zoro watched her face fading. No matter how hard he tried to stay calm, his blood was driving insane circles.

"I wasn't picking of course, just…" She bit her nail, blinking. "Just saw these papers weren't even wrinkled. I thought they slid down the desk by accident, so I looked through them…"

Shifting in the armchair, the green haired man swallowed thickly.

"Had he-" A thick lump. He coughed. "Had he explained this to you?"

Her shoulders were shaking as she nodded.

"Only yesterday, when I asked," She whispered, her voice cracking at the edge. "I never… Never knew he wanted…"

His heart flipped inside his chest so eagerly that the blood pressure made his vision pulse with dark red, leaving white noise in his ears. Zoro stood up and, towering above the crying woman his best friend loved the most in the whole world, despised himself for the thoughts that flickered in his mind. The muscles in his legs were trembling, and a swelling nausea could make him collapse. Zoro took a deep breath, quietly sitting next to Nami, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"I… I will only prevent his dream from coming true," She sobbed quietly, clasping her fingers desperately at Zoro's collar.

He felt like his spine had turned into a metal rod.

"Why do you think so?" He muttered, looking steadily at the top of the red-crowned head.

Nami's breath settled down a bit, but quiet tears were still muting her eyes as she released herself from his arm and peered at her knees.

"Because… I feel like he's ready to do everything for me, and yesterday he said… He smiled so brightly, saying it doesn't matter what he wants now and his only objective is to make me happy… I feel like such an egoist for not stopping him from betraying his dream… If only I knew before, maybe… maybe…" She swallowed a sob, glancing right into Zoro's dark eyes. "Tell me, Zoro. You two are so close, you're like brothers… You know Sanji better than I do! What should I do?"

Like brothers.

The sunray burned at Nami's flushed and swollen face, painting her eyes scarlet. Zoro's fingers gripped his knees so tight that he was feeling his own nails scratching his skin through the cloth.

"Do you love him?" He uttered, barely audible, his eyes not leaving Nami's.

"Yes, I do."

The sunray slid down her face, disappearing. The room went into the darkness.

Yes, I do.– The words echoed in his mind; determined, confident words. He blinked slowly, squinting his eyes tight.

"He loves you too, so I don't see any problem."

Silence filled the room, and only occasional quiet sniffs sounded for a while. Clenching his fists with all his might, Zoro prayed that Nami wouldn't hear his heart thundering, trying to break free from his ribcage.

"I know if Sanji decided anything, rarely somebody or something can change his mind." She said huskily, wiping her tears with the heel of her hand. "And… Again, I feel so egoistic for not even trying to reassure him…"

"Why do you even think he won't be able to open this restaurant?" Zoro whispered.

"Oh, he probably will," A weak smile appeared in her voice. "But I think you know better than me that the point was to build the restaurant on the ocean shore. Which means we'll have to move far away."

"I know."

A sigh that she was suppressing so hard escaped Nami's chest.

"I can't just leave him." A whisper came out of her lips. "I know it's very stupid of me, and I should think with cold head… But Sanji is so caring. I can only imagine how much he would care for me and our baby and… I can't."

"No one would blame you," Zoro uttered. "Every one is meant to be an egoist in a way. It wouldn't be good for both of you if you decided to leave him. Especially if you love each other so much."

Something cracked inside him – hard, sharp, violent. His head thumped severely as the blood rushed out, making his face pale.

"Maybe you're right," Nami smiled weakly. "He definitely won't be happy if I just leave him a week before our wedding." She put her palm onto Zoro's shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "Not the point though, but… Yes, you've probably said the very truth."

Then Nami stood up from the couch. Zoro's eyes already adjusted to the darkness, and he saw she looked way more cheerful.

"Thank you," She ruffled his hair with her warm fingers. "You really are the best friend he could ever have."

Not long after Sanji's bride had left, Zoro fell to the couch, exhausted as much as none of the trainings had ever made him. Clenching his trembling fingers into a fist, he hit the glass table, spilling all the pent self-loathing with the blow.

"Is something wrong, Zoro?"

He blinked bluntly, driving his eyes to Vivi. His smile strained, he weakened his not so firm hand on her waist.

Vivi's beautiful eyes glanced worryingly at him as she squeezed his leading hand slightly. The pain pierced it instantly – even the lightest touch still hurt. However, Zoro didn't show a fracture of inconvenience.

He sincerely wanted just to enjoy a company of the stunning bridesmaid. How much Zoro would like just to dance with her light-heartedly, without staring at the pair in the opposite corner of the hall.

They both were beaming. Never releasing each other from the embrace, they were smiling, laughing and looking at each other with eyes full of delight. Right now Sanji leaned to Nami's ear, and her hand on his shoulder tightened. The blond brought her fingers to his lips, brushing her gloved knuckles lightly and smiling at her. Nami's eyes shined.

"Zoro," Vivi's voice dragged him out of focus again. "You look very pale, are you alright?"

The blue haired girl stopped, gazing pitifully into the dark eyes he was trying to hide.

"I'm alright," he forced a smile, which came out crooked, "just drank too much for a dance."

Stroking his shoulder, Vivi never left her sympathetic eyes from him. Irritation possessed Zoro slowly.

Fortunately, Chopper happened to pass by them, and Zoro caught his arm with his healthy hand.

"Hey, Chopper," He smiled at the confused boy. "Don't you mind keep Vivi a company?"

Blushing, the boy lowered his gaze.

"You want to dance, Vivi?" He asked shyly, corners of his mouth raising.

"Sure," The girl's lips widened. She sent the last concerned glance and a quick pat to Zoro's shoulder before he retired.

Standing in front of the restroom's mirror, the green haired man peered at the pale face with dark bags below the eyes. Frowning, he removed his white gloves to wash his face and discovered his injured hand started to bleed again. Damn, good thing I'd left before it stained the glove.

That fateful day when Nami had visited him, Zoro broke so many things in his apartment he lost count. The first blow brought the most harm – the glass caused a huge bleeding, and he realized how bad his hand was cut only after he'd calmed down. Barely recollecting the first-aid basics, he came to a conclusion that the artery wasn't affected, so he decided to go without bothering doctors. However, his hand still wasn't healing after a week. Not that he really cared about it.

Loosening the bandage, he untied it and looked at his hand. His palm and wrist were covered in cuts and scratches, and one of them reopened, spitting the blood out quietly. Letting out a hiss, Zoro reached his free hand to the pocket, where he'd fortunately put a pack of bandages before.

The door of the restroom opened right after he cleaned his hand and decided to wait for it to dry. He didn't manage to hide it before a palm landed on his back.

"Zoro, escaping wouldn't make anything better," Luffy uttered seriously, gazing into his eyes from the mirror.

"I know," The green haired man scowled.

Despite Luffy being so careless, somehow he had always known things without being told.

"Why have you never spoken to Sanji?" The boy asked, not averting his eyes.

"Because it's pointless," Zoro sighed, wrapping the bandage around his wrist.

"Why?" The serious face changed to Luffy's usual one as his brow arched.

After tying the knot, Zoro worked out his hand – tight enough. He slipped his hands into the gloves and turned to face the black haired guy.

"Just go there and look," He uttered sullenly. Even if Luffy was a man to trust, Zoro wasn't going to explain things in detail.

However, it wasn't needed for Luffy to understand. He nodded slowly, looking into the green haired man's eyes silently. A great adviser as he had always been, even Luffy couldn't advise anything in that matter.

After they had left the restroom, the black haired guy joined Usopp, Franky and Robin at the table, and Zoro decided to go and take some fresh air.

He approached the stairs of the "Baratie" rear exit, inhaling the chilly spring breeze with full lungs.

Both Sanji and Nami looked so blissful the whole evening. Zoro couldn't help the heavy feeling in his chest, he was even disgusted. Disgusted mostly by himself. I'm a terrible person,He repeated inwardly, closing his burning eyelids. He couldn't even talk properly to Sanji – his best friend at his best day. The blond's radiating smile was like a sharp stab into his heart.

"Marimo?"

He didn't want to open his eyes. Didn't want to look. Didn't want to be absolutely sure it was the cook standing several steps behind him. Even if it was pointless to deny after hearing the name along with a lighter's clink.

A hand landed on his shoulder, taking away the last hope to be ignored.

"Why aren't you with everyone?"

When Zoro opened his eyes, he couldn't draw them away from Sanji anymore. His golden, curtained hair, the man knew for sure was smooth and soft, glimmered in the clearance of the door he forgot to close after himself. One visible eye of the most beautiful shade of blue Zoro had ever seen looked at him steadily, waiting for an answer.

An answer Zoro would never be able to give him.

"Why are you not there?" He smiled, taking an offered cigarette from the thin fingers.

Exhaling, or maybe just sighing, the blond lowered his head onto Zoro's shoulder. The unique scent of his skin, hair, scent of his Cook mixed with the smoke of both their cigarettes hit Zoro with an unbearable nostalgia.

Nobody but Sanji had ever caused Zoro to experience such strong emotions in his life. And nobody but Sanji was able to make his disturbed soul soften.

A long moment of silent stargazing appeared to be just a second before Sanji answered.

"I slept too little yesterday, so my head is killing me now," The blond chuckled softly, lifting his head up.

"Were you worried?" The green haired man exhaled, never leaving his gaze from the dark sky.

"I was," Sanji whispered. The tobacco in his cigarette cracked slightly. "I thought, maybe… Maybe I'm loosing something important."

Only a few inches of space were separating them, and Zoro hoped the blond didn't notice how he flinched. He turned to look at the man. His beautiful, happy only several minutes ago and now so sorrowful, face twitched as if he was in pain.

"But…" Sanji let out a sigh. "Even if so, I will be happy if she is. Never would forgive myself if I'd somehow put my own goals before her happiness."

Before Zoro realized, his white-gloved hand was clenching in a fist, his fingertips sinking deep into his palm.

"Zoro," The blond crushed his cigarette under his heel. "Am I an egoist if I still can't accept that I'm abandoning my dream?"

That bitter lump in his throat wasn't caused by the smoke, unfortunately. Zoro looked at his friend, feeling the corners of his mouth fade.

He couldn't see his best friend leaving the dream of his whole life behind. But there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

"You've always been an idiot," Zoro smiled weakly. "Who would call himself an egoist while dedicating his life to another person?"

A frown on the cook's forehead straightened, he lowered his eyes for a moment. The quivering of his lips finally formed into a smile. The kindest smile one could ever have.

"Thank you," He whispered, reaching his hand to the door. Zoro couldn't help smiling in response, and it was strange how sincere his smile felt on his lips despite him being shattered into pieces inside.

"I should beat you stupid ass for being sad on your own wedding," The green haired man uttered. His voice cracked on the last words, and he cleared his throat quietly.

"Oh, shut up," The blond winced not so exasperatedly. He stepped to the door, glancing at Zoro shortly before leaving. "Are you going inside?"

"Not yet," Zoro said to his back disappearing in the doorway.

The clouds enveloped the sky, hiding the glint of silver away from his eyes.