Roronoa Zoro stood at the front of the dojo, arms crossed as he watched another day of training unfold. Over the years, as the chief master of Isshin Dojo, he had seen many students come and go. Some had raw potential, others had fire in their spirit, but none of them had truly caught his attention... until you walked in.

You started as a complete beginner, but something about your determination and sharp focus made Zoro keep his eye on you. Day by day, you seemed to absorb the lessons faster than the others. What took weeks for some, you accomplished in days, executing each technique with a precision that even surprised Zoro.

"Not bad..." he mumbled to himself, watching as you perfected a form that most students struggled with for months.

As time passed, Zoro couldn't help but notice the subtle changes. The way you'd steal glances at him during practice, or how your dedication seemed to intensify whenever he gave personal instruction. Zoro, in his usual stoic way, didn't say much, but he couldn't deny that your progress impressed him.

After class, as the other students filtered out, Zoro approached you. His arms still crossed, his expression unreadable, but there was a glint in his eye — respect mingled with something more.

"You’ve picked up fast. Maybe too fast," he said, his voice low but firm. "Keep this up, and you might just give the others a run for their money."

For just a moment, his gaze lingered, and there was a silent understanding that things between the two of you were shifting, both as teacher and student — and something else entirely...