Sanji found him first.

For some reason, apart of him knew he was dead before he even got close.

He couldn't tell how he fell, there was so much blood and his head wasn't thinking straight enough to check. Chopper would find out later, and Sanji wouldn't listen.

His knees gave out next to the body and he stared down with wide eyes—making no move to reach out and touch him just yet. The green hair was matted in places with blood, the visible cheek had scratches and dried flecks of red on it.

Zoro's eyes, thankfully, were closed.

So many emotions coursed through him as he looked down at him. A little bubble of laughter broke free, and he reached out and pushed Zoro flat on his back—staring straight on at him.

"You…fucking bastard…" Sanji swallowed, staring hard at him as his head raced and his heart beat faster. "Wake up."

He reached down and placed a hand on the blood soaked chest. Shaking him a bit, he kept his eyes trained on his face and the little bit of dried blood that had leaked past closed lips.

"Wake—-Wake the fuck up…"

The body didn't move.

"Wake the fuck up!" Sanji slammed his fist down on his chest. "WAKE THE FUCK UP!"

Zoro didn't stir.

"WAKE THE FUCK UP!" He screamed, feeling the tears he knew would be coming start to fall down his cheeks. "WAKE—WAKE THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"

Sanji began beating his fists against his chest, for once not caring, as deep screams of anger and anguish left him. The corpse under his hands shook, but only through vibrations and out of no will of it's own.

Eventually, the cook sank down—pressing his face against his shoulder as his hands gripped the once white fabric. His shoulders shook with sobs as he dug his nails into his chest.

"You FUCKING IDIOT!" he screamed against the cold skin that passed through the ripped shirt. "YOU FUCKING USELESS SWORDSMAN!"

Sanji choked on his own spit and squeezed his eye shut harder.

This wasn't suppose to happen.

Zoro was never meant to die. That was a stupid thing to think, but it hadn't happened yet. Despite all those fucking wounds that crazy body of his took, despite being cut by Mihawk's blade and almost taken down by that bear bastard.

He hadn't died.

He hadn't died through any of that, so what gave him the fucking right to die from a simple battle like this?

He had no right.

None.

"Y-You bastard…" Sanji sobbed, biting his lip hard. "You weren't suppose to die first—GET BACK HERE AND LET ME FUCKING KILL YOU FOR DOING THIS! WHAT ABOUT LUFFY!? WHAT ABOUT HIS FUCKING DREAM!? WHAT ABOUT YOURS!?"

He sat up suddenly, glaring down at the face that hadn't moved during his screaming. "W-Were you so FUCKING WEAK THAT YOU COULDN'T LIVE FOR YOUR DREAM!? WHAT ABOUT YOUR DREAM YOU FUCKING IDIOT!"

He grabbed his ripped shoulders and shook the body hard before his arms went weak and he slumped back over as he sobbed.

"Wh-What about mine?" He choked out. "What about m-me you f-fucking idiot…"