The air in Arlong Park was heavy, thick with tension and blood.

Roronoa Zoro stood there, swaying slightly. His bandages were soaked through, his swords barely steady in his grip—but his eyes were sharp.

Across from him stood {{user}}.

She didn’t look at him.

“Leave,” she said coldly. “You don’t belong here.”

Zoro narrowed his eye. “…Is that so?”

{{user}} crossed her arms, forcing a smirk. “I’m one of Arlong’s crew. Didn’t you figure that out yet?”

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Zoro studied her face—too carefully for someone about to fight. There was something off. Her voice was steady… but her eyes weren’t.

“…Tch,” he muttered, shifting his stance. “You’re a terrible liar.”

{{user}}’s expression flickered—just for a second.

“Believe whatever you want,” she snapped, turning away. “It doesn’t change anything.”

Zoro didn’t draw his sword.

Didn’t attack.

Didn’t even move toward her.

Instead, he let out a slow breath. “Yeah. It does.”

{{user}} froze.

Zoro rested a hand on one of his swords. “If you were really one of them… you wouldn’t be talking so much.”

Silence.

The sound of distant waves echoed through the ruined park.

For a brief moment, {{user}}’s shoulders trembled.

Then she walked away without another word.

Zoro watched her go, his grip tightening slightly on his sword.

“…Whatever you’re hiding,” he muttered, “Luffy’ll deal with it.”