The skin will never be the same, Zoro thinks, as he traces a finger over it. Luffy flinches, but it's surprise in his eyes, not pain, and Zoro doesn't lift his hand.

The grass is cool and damp, courtesy of the waves that had threatened to drag them off deck. But they had won the battle of endurance and the storm sulked away empty-handed.

Hours later and the ship is shadowy, still and silent. Everyone is asleep, worn from the stress of the storm. All but two.

Luffy's arms are behind his head and his eyes are set on stars. He doesn't mind Zoro's touch, and Zoro feels relieved, because two years is a long time.

Two years is just such a long, long time and some feelings are fleeting.

The scar stretches across Luffy's chest, across his heart, and Zoro's hand pauses there. The beating underneath is strong and steady, but he knows it wasn't always. "He really shouldn't be alive" were Chopper's exact words, whispered to the crew as though merely speaking them could make fate change its mind.

At one point this same heart was weak and fighting to survive, and Zoro never even knew it. There was no instinctual knowing like he always half-expected there to be if his captain was ever in danger.

"I'm sorry", he thinks, and he doesn't realize he's said it aloud until his hand flops to the ground and Luffy is sitting up, looking confused.

"Huh? It's fine, it doesn't hurt anymore," Luffy assures him, pressing his hand against the scar tissue as if to prove his point.

"That's not what I mean."

Zoro's plan for the night had nothing to do with bringing up regrets and loss and personal failures, but they are things that would need to be confronted eventually. He has things he needs to say, and things he needs to hear Luffy say.

As always (at least with things concerning Zoro) Luffy seems to understand.

"It's not your fault." Luffy says with conviction, staring Zoro down.

"Kuma was too strong, those admirals were too strong, too. And Ace… Ace was too strong in a different way." His voice softens at the end, and Zoro knows what this conversation is shaking up inside of his captain.

He knows about Ace, about the way he refused to run and the way Luffy never for a moment thought to leave him behind.

Zoro was nothing back then, half alive and useless, and to think his presence could have made even the slightest difference was cocky at best. But that didn't change the way he felt, the regret that churned in his stomach and the guilt it fostered.

"I wanted to be there. Even if I couldn't change a damn thing, I should have been right there with you! You needed us and we left you alone. I'm sor-"

"So were you," Luffy argued, "and Nami, Sanji, Usopp, Brook, Chopper, Franky, Robin… Even if there were other people around, were we all alone. And I chose training. I didn't know where you guys were, or if you were really ok, and still..."

"That was different."

Luffy laughs humorlessly, and Zoro narrows his good eye.

"We wouldn't be where we are today if we didn't train. It was the right call"

"I'm sorry, Zoro" Luffy says, shaking his head,"It's just that, you're acting like I'm the only one who suffered. It was hard on everyone, don't you think? You have scars, too, right?"

And Zoro's sighs, because that wasn't untrue. He did suffer, they were all lonely, stuck with strange people, in foreign from their home, their belongings, their family. And yet, compared to Luffy's pain, compared to the loss of a brother, what right did any of them have to complain? How could they even compare?

But leave it to Luffy to refocus the lens. To see past his own pain, to see the scars in all of their eyes and know that skin isn't the only thing that can be broken and heal crooked.

" But now that we're all back together, I know we'll be ok. I'm...getting better, I think…" Luffy pauses, and then nods confidently. "We'll definitely be okay."

The scars that mar their flesh heal first, the rest may ache forever, and Zoro isn't sure if it's as easy as Luffy makes it sound; if any of them can truly heal. He can't know if Luffy will ever stop flinching around fire, or if any of them will ever see a newspaper without that sudden pang of dread stabbing at their stomachs.

He doesn't have time to dwell on the thought though, because Luffy's pulling him back down to the soggy grass with plans of making his stomach a pillow.

Luffy's hair is wet and the air is growing cool, but Zoro doesn't complain. His fingers find their way to wild dark locks, and weave themselves through, ruffling the hair. New hope fills Zoro, refreshing and familiar and he remembers feeling this way before, when they were just a crew of two and being hopeful was all that got him by.

We'll definitely be okay.

Flesh will split and bleed and heal anew. He brings his thumb down to follow the trail carved in his captain's chest.

The skin will never be the same, Zoro knows, but real pain is never skin deep.