This one is considerably more cliché than the other one. But I have spent ten hours at school and I have a headache, so stuff it and enjoy.

Zoro's green hair was a mystery, for sure, but it wasn't one Zoro couldn't shine light onto. Truth be told, he didn't know his father, and for all he knew, he might have green hair too, Zoro hadn't asked as a kid. Apparently, he was a sailor, a marine that had to leave his mother before he even knew she was pregnant. His mother didn't feel any resentment towards him for it, and neither did Zoro. They'd met, fallen in love, gotten married, spent a blissful year together, and ended it on good terms, promising to meet up ten years later, when he'd be released from duty.

But that day never came.

Nine months after her husband left for sea once again, she gave birth to a baby boy. His lips and jaw-line were the splitting image of his mother's, but his eyes were the same golden brown as his father's, if a shade lighter. Elza named her baby Zoro, meaning 'Golden Dawn'. Every day, she thanked god for the wonderful child she'd gotten, when every doctor had told her she would never bear a child.

But the happiness didn't last for too long. His mother got sick.

From what she'd told Zoro, she always had been sick, but it was only just getting bad now.

"Momma, why won't God help you?"

Every single morning and night, he prayed for her recovery, or for his father to come home and save her, or for some miracle cure. Even just an answer. Not after long, it stopped being "How can I help momma?" and became "Why won't you listen?"

Eventually, Zoro had enough. He'd read books about great swordsmen who defeated evil and overcame hardship. He would do that too; he'd be strong, for his momma.

"Momma, I'm going to find a cure. I heard there's a guy in the woods on the next island over that knows a lot about this stuff, and he might be able to help, if I give him all my money."Elza didn't answer. She hadn't moved for a day, her eyelids hadn't budged, her hands hadn't twitched. "She's asleep, she needs it." an eight-year-old Zoro assured himself.

It didn't mean anything; she was just resting.

"I'm tired of asking for help, momma. I'm going to help you myself."

He made sure she was warm, and had food ready for her on the nightstand. Rowing to the next island would only take about a day, maybe more if the weather got bad. In any case, Zoro was determined to find something to help his mother.

"Damn it! Where is that stupid house?" Zoro shouted out loud to no one specific. No one; someone. Anyone.

He'd been wandering the woods for at least six hours now, and his mother was waiting. He needed to get to that man who supposedly had the cure, and now! Why did he have to get lost now of all times?

The doctors told him his mother was dead. Just because her heart wasn't beating anymore, and her lungs weren't breathing, and she wouldn't smile or tell him everything to be strong or dry his tears anymore, it didn't mean she was dead! It couldn't. he wouldn't accept it. There had to still be a way.

He kept walking for hours more. And then a couple more.

Just an hour more.

Just a few minutes more.

Just a few seconds…

Exhausted, he collapsed, panting like a dog. About as filthy as one, too. He rolled onto his back, staring at the stars. He recognized some of the constellations, his mother had taken him outside once. There was his mark; the Scorpio. And her mother's mark, the Capricorn. And she'd told him his father was a Pisces.

Zoro had always been scared of the night. Not the dark, he liked the dark. He was afraid of the changes it made, how the colorful flowers turned grey, and the sky turned black. When he couldn't sleep, his mother told him everything was okay, because God was watching them, and he would protect them.

But where was he now?

"Why are you ignoring me?" Zoro yelled at the sky. God, Spirit, the holy father, whoever he was, he wasn't doing his job.

A choked sob escaped Zoro's lips, breaking the dam and releasing the flood that was his tears.

After the whimpers died down, he felt considerably more calm.

"Momma's dead, isn't she?" he asked into the night.

And he accepted it. Embraced it, even. She'd been suffering horribly for weeks, it was her time to let go. Now he had to let go too. He still had to bury his mother, might as well try to get back home, even if he had no idea where he was or which way to go. And if fate (fate made so much more sense to Zoro than God, and it was comforting to believe in) would have it some other way, like making him find a Dojo instead, then fine. He didn't know where the road lead, but he'd take it, just to find out.

And that was life.

Eleven years later, Zoro's nonsense of direction kicks in again. Didn't he pass that flock of birds before? And that plant sure looked familiar…

"Oi, marimo! What the hell are you doing all the way out here, the hotel is that way, idiot! Geez, just walk behind me and don't wander off. Nami-swan won't like it if I have to delay dinner over someone like you."

But he isn't lost anymore, not with them around.

And he sure as hell doesn't need any god to tell him that.

My god, it's so full of fluff I think my pillow is jealous. Serves it right, it could use some softness.

Maybe, and I do say maybe, I'll end up turning this into a three- or fourshot, the later chapters being Sanji and Zoro talking about their childhood with each other. Sound good? Let me know.