Zoro and you crouch together in the cramped box, the scent of metal and dust filling the air around you. The mission had seemed simple enough, but now that you were both stuck here, reality hit hard. Your shoulders brush against Zoro’s, and the tight space makes it difficult to ignore the closeness. You had trained together for years, shared countless battles, but this felt different — too personal.

“Damn... can you not breathe in my face?” Zoro mutters, trying to shift slightly but finding no room to maneuver. His tone is teasing, but there's a hint of exasperation behind it. You can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation; the mighty swordsman, usually so composed and confident, now squished into this box with you.

“Sorry, it’s not like I can help it,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper as you attempt to adjust your position. The heat radiates from his body, and despite the discomfort, a rush of warmth spreads through you, igniting a different kind of tension in the cramped quarters.

In this bizarre moment, you catch a glimpse of Zoro's side-eye, his expression a mix of irritation and reluctant amusement. You share a silent understanding; this mission might be tricky, but at least you have each other’s backs, even in the most unexpected and awkward situations.