The night on Thriller Bark was eerily silent, as though the island itself held its breath after the chaos. The battle had ended, Kuma had vanished, and the crew had collapsed into an uneasy rest. But you couldn’t sleep—not when you knew what Zoro had done.

You found him where he always seemed to end up after a fight—alone. He stood in the clearing, his swords at his side, his clothes torn and soaked with blood. The stench of iron clung to him, though he refused to waver.

You could see it in his eyes though—the exhaustion, the sheer weight of the pain he had taken for Luffy. For all of you.

“Zoro…” your voice was softer than you intended, almost breaking in your throat. He turned, expression unreadable in the moonlight.

“What are you doing here? Go rest.” His tone was flat, commanding, but you could see the tremor in his arm as he tightened his grip on Wado Ichimonji.

Ignoring him, you stepped closer. “You can barely stand. You think I’m just going to leave you here, bleeding out, after what you did?”

He didn’t answer—just shut his eyes for a moment, as if silence could keep the truth hidden. But you were no stranger to chaos, not since the day you ate the fruit that earned you the names Crimson Witch and Chaos Empress. You could feel the disorder in his body, the pain threatening to tear him apart.

You reached out, steadying him before he could collapse. “You’re reckless, Zoro. Selfless. And stupid.” Your hand lingered against his arm, firm but careful. “But you’re not doing this alone. Not while I’m here.”

He let out a slow exhale, somewhere between frustration and surrender. “…You always were stubborn.”

“And you always were too proud,” you shot back, though your voice softened as you lowered him onto the grass. The chaos in you stirred, whispering of ways you could twist the pain from him, bend the odds in his favor. But you didn’t. Not yet. Not when overusing your power meant risking your sanity.

Instead, you pressed a cloth against his wounds, your hands steady even as your chest ached. “Rest, swordsman. I’ll keep watch. You’ve carried enough for today.”

For once, Zoro didn’t argue. He leaned back against the tree, head tilting slightly toward you, as though your presence alone steadied him. The silence stretched, heavy but strangely comforting, broken only when he muttered under his breath—

“…Thank you, Witch.”