Fists Against Zoro

The mouth of the alley fell silent. The porridge had spilled completely from the child's bowl. The bowl lay upside down on the ground, its rim chipped, but the child did not look down. He stared at the middle-aged man, mouth open, fingers clutching his empty sleeve so tightly his knuckles turned white.

The cigarette butt by the old man's feet still gave off a thin wisp of smoke, but he did not stamp it out. He stared at the middle-aged man as confusion turned to shock, then to an indescribable bewilderment, as if someone had stabbed him in the back.

The stone fell from the young man's hand. It struck the paving stones, bounced once, then rolled to the gutter, splashing muddy water. He did not pick it up.

Jack's voice came from behind the middle-aged man, level and steady, as though he were reading from a list he had already prepared. "Zoan, Chameleon Devil Fruit User, Vario. Bounty: thirty-eight million Beli. Appeared in Loguetown six months ago. Moved to the Goa Kingdom three months ago."

Zoro's sword point finally dropped. The blade shifted from a horizontal guard to a downward slant, its tip aimed at the ground. The cold gleam along its edge dimmed in the sunlight. His mouth twitched, his lips pressed into a line, and the corners of his mouth pulled down. His jaw tightened and loosened several times. His gaze stayed fixed on the middle-aged man, moving from forehead to chin, from chin to neck, then from neck to the Seastone Handcuffs on his wrists.

"Granny" stood beside the old wooden table. Steam still rose from the iron pot, where a few red beans floated on the porridge, glowing warmly in the afternoon light. The porridge was still cooking, the rice broth still bubbling, but he could no longer reach for the wooden spoon.

Jack reached around from behind, spread his fingers, and gripped "Granny" by the back of the neck like a cat. He pushed him half a step forward, right in front of Zoro.

"Do you still want to help her?"

Zoro did not answer. He looked away from the middle-aged man and toward the people who had been waiting in line.

The alley had gone quiet. No one shouted, "Let Granny go." No one shouted, "Get out of here, Marines." The charged murmur from before had been doused from head to toe with a bucket of ice water. All that remained was a sodden silence.

The middle-aged man's lips moved. His voice had changed from a hoarse, elderly rasp to a thin, scratchy squeak, like a mouse gnawing wood.

"How did you know it was me?"

Jack did not answer. He took a handcuff key from his pocket with his left hand and tossed it to Helena. Standing three paces from the alley mouth, she caught it. The clink of metal rang sharply through the silence. She walked over, bent down, and tightened the Seastone Handcuffs another notch. Then she grabbed the man by the back of his collar and dragged him two steps away.

"Take him away. Question him. Find out where the missing people went."

Helena nodded without another word. She gestured to the two privates behind her, and they came forward to take the middle-aged man by the arms. He struggled, kicking twice against the paving stones. His shoes were a size too big, and one flew off, landing by the gutter with its empty opening facing up.

"Wait," Jack said.

Helena stopped, and so did the two privates. The middle-aged man hung between them, shoulders slumped, head bowed, chin pressed to his chest. The Seastone Handcuffs clicked softly against his wrists, their mineral surface dull gray-green in the sunlight.

Jack walked up to him and crouched. With his size, the movement was like a mountain bearing down. His shadow swallowed the middle-aged man whole.

"You'd better tell us the truth. Otherwise, I'll have to go in there and pay you a visit myself."

The middle-aged man's lips twitched.

"Take him away."

Helena and the two privates dragged him into a side alley. Their footsteps faded until they vanished around a street corner. Jack faced Zoro, with the steaming iron pot nearby. Red beans rolled across the thick, bubbling porridge.

"You were fooled, kid," Jack said.

Zoro stood three paces away, his sword halfway into its sheath. The blade made the faintest scrape against the opening. He watched Jack's back, the corner of his mouth twitching once, then again. His brow was still furrowed, but most of the resolve fueled by anger and righteous indignation had drained away. In its place was the belated frustration of realizing he had been used.

"Your sword's good," Jack said without turning. "Your eyes aren't."

Zoro frowned harder. His fingers clenched around the hilt, then loosened with a crack of his knuckles. He wanted to argue, but the words caught in his throat. He could not say he had not been fooled, because he had. When he drew his sword and stood in front of "Granny," he truly thought she was innocent. He truly thought the Marines were bullying a defenseless old woman. But that "old woman" was a Devil Fruit User with a thirty-eight-million-Beli bounty. A human trafficker.

"What was your name again?" Jack asked, turning around.

"Roronoa Zoro."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

Jack nodded. "Join the Marines."

Zoro frowned again. He stared at Jack, eyes narrowing, his lower lip jutting out as though he were chewing something too tough to swallow. Then his brow relaxed, and he slid his sword fully into its sheath with a crisp click.

"I'm not joining the Marines."

"Why not?"

"I'm going to be the World's Greatest Swordsman." Zoro's voice stayed level. He did not raise it or stress a single word, but every syllable sounded rooted in his bones. He met Jack's eyes without flinching, the two-and-a-half-meter figure reflected in his pupils.

Jack looked at him. Three seconds passed.

"You can be a Marine and still become the World's Greatest Swordsman."

Zoro raised an eyebrow.

"You drew your sword to stop me just now," Jack said quietly. "Under Marine regulations, you can be detained for obstructing an officer in the line of duty. Under my rules, people who stick their noses where they don't belong get punished."

Zoro tightened his grip on the hilt. His body did not move, but his shoulders drew in and his center of gravity dropped a fraction. It was a subtle preparation to draw, but Jack saw it.

"Want to fight?" Jack asked.

"You started it."

"Fine. Let's have a match." Jack took off his cap and set it on a wooden stool beside the iron pot.

"If you win, you can leave. Become a pirate or a bounty hunter, whatever you want. I won't stop you." Jack rolled his sleeves above his forearms, exposing the Hardened Skin beneath. It held a dull metallic sheen in the sunlight. "If I win, you stay. You become a Marine, and you can leave when you can beat me."

Zoro's fingers paused on the hilt. His gaze moved from Jack's face to his arm, then to the seam of his shirt straining across his shoulder, before returning to his face. The corner of Zoro's mouth twitched. It was not a smile. It said, Are you serious?

"You mean that?"

"I keep my word."

Zoro asked nothing else. His right hand gripped one hilt, his left the sheath of his second sword. He pressed his thumb against the guard and pushed the blade three inches free. A cold line of reflected sunlight flashed beside his left shoulder, then faded. Both swords came out together, tracing two half arcs through the air. His left blade rose above his right, their edges crossing at a slight angle.

Three-Sword Style. He held the third sword between his teeth, blade to the left, hilt to the right.

Jack glanced at the sword in his mouth. The corner of his own mouth twitched, barely.

"Sure you can keep a grip on that?"

"Obviously."

Zoro moved. He sprang from stillness into a charge without warning, his soles leaving a short gray scuff on the paving stones before he launched into the air. His left sword slashed down at an angle while his right swept up. Their paths converged before Jack's chest like an open pair of scissors.

Jack did not dodge. He raised his left hand and spread his fingers. The left blade struck his palm. The instant steel met Hardened Skin, it made a thin metallic screech, like a nail dragged across a steel plate. The blade slid an inch across his palm and stopped.

The right sword struck Jack's shoulder. Its edge sliced through his shirt, splitting the seam and exposing the dull Hardened Skin beneath. The blade scraped across it without leaving a mark. Numbness jolted through the web of Zoro's hand, up his forearm, and into his elbow. His wrist shifted slightly, sending the right blade off course.

Jack did not pause. He closed his right hand around the back of Zoro's left sword, his hardened knuckles locking against the ridge between edge and spine, then shoved it outward. The force pulled Zoro half a foot to the right. His left foot landed badly and his knee buckled, but he did not go down. He swept his right sword back in a half arc, turning its edge inward to guard his chest, while the sword in his mouth pointed straight at Jack's brow.

"Your sword's too slow," Jack said.

Zoro's mouth twitched, shifting the sword between his teeth a fraction. He said nothing. He drove off his right foot and sprang forward again. This time, he did not slash with both swords together. His right sword thrust straight ahead while his left drew back to guard, leaving a tiny gap between the two movements.

Jack raised his right hand and pressed his index and middle fingers together.

"Watch my Great Strength Vajra Finger."

His fingertips struck the side of Zoro's right blade. The impact jolted Zoro's grip, and the sword rang out. The vibration ran down the hilt into his palm and wrist. His hand went numb, and he nearly lost the sword. Blood seeped from the web of his hand, spreading through the cord wrapped around the hilt like a drop of diluted ink.

"Nice sword. It didn't even break."

Zoro sprang half a step back, drawing his right sword in as his left came forward. He moved fast, the two blades alternating before him like the blades of a meat grinder. But against Jack, he was still too slow.

Soru.

Jack's foot struck the paving stones three times. His body shot forward like a stone from a slingshot, flashing from directly in front of Zoro to his side. Zoro's eyes caught the movement, but he had only turned halfway when Jack's fist arrived. It slammed into the flat of Zoro's left sword. Hardened Skin met steel with a deafening crash. The blade bent into an arc, then sprang back. The web of Zoro's hand split open, and blood spilled down the hilt, dripping onto the paving stones in tiny red spots.

"Still fighting?" Jack stood a meter to his side, fist raised.

Zoro leaned slightly, knees bent, heels braced against the stones. His chest rose and fell twice, his breathing faster now. Fine beads of sweat formed on his forehead, ran along his hairline, and slid over his brow and down his nose. Blood still flowed from the web of his hand. It had soaked half the hilt, darkening the cord wrapped around it.

He said nothing. But he did not lower his swords.

"Not giving up, then." Jack moved. Soru carried him from Zoro's side to directly in front of him. "One last punch."

Zoro crossed both swords before him. Neither blade could withstand the blow. Both shattered, and the punch sent Zoro flying. He landed on one knee, the two broken swords stuck in the ground on either side of him.

"You lost."

Zoro's chest dipped. His fist clenched around a hilt, knuckles white, blood spreading farther across it. His head hung low, green bangs brushing his forehead and hiding one eye. His lips pressed into a line, their corners pulled down, his jaw tight.

Then he spoke. His voice was quiet and breathless, but he did not hesitate.

"I lost. I'll stay and become a Marine."

Jack unclenched his hand and stepped back. He rolled down his sleeves, took his uniform jacket from the stool, and put it on, fastening each button in turn. Then he put on his cap. Its brim sat low, hiding half his face. He looked down at Zoro, who was still kneeling on one knee.

"Get up."

Zoro stood. He took the sword from his mouth and sheathed it, then put away the other two broken blades. All three hung side by side at his waist. He stood nearly a head shorter than Jack, but his back was straight, his chin raised, and his gaze steady.

Jack looked him over. Blood still ran from the web of Zoro's hand, down his wrist, and gathered at his fingertips before dripping to the ground. His left sleeve was torn, exposing a purplish bruise on his forearm where Jack had shoved his sword aside.

"Your swords broke. I'll replace them with two new ones later."

Jack turned his head. "Helena."

Helena emerged from the side alley. She looked at Jack, then at Zoro.

"Get him a uniform. Corporal."

Helena jogged over to Zoro. She glanced at his waist and shoulder width, then looked up at him.

"Come with me."