Chapter 8 — Slash
The nights on Mount Fujikasane were long and filled with malice. Although the wisteria barrier protected the foot of the mountain, within this enclosed Final Selection ground, every inch of air was steeped in the resentment of countless candidates who had perished tragically over the past decades.
Yet in one corner by the stream, there was an unusual sense of peace tonight.
Several dry branches crackled in the campfire with sharp pops, orange-red sparks rising into the air before vanishing into the darkness.
Zenitsu was curled up in a tight ball against a large rock, drool trailing from his mouth as he snored defenselessly. Only when utterly exhausted or frightened into unconsciousness did he ever appear this quiet.
Zoro sat cross-legged beside the fire, a small twig in his hand for picking his teeth. His single eye gazed upward at the starry sky, most of it obscured by the canopy overhead.
Tanjiro hadn't fallen asleep either. He had just added another armful of firewood to the flames before hugging his knees and sitting across from Zoro. His ruby-like eyes reflected the flickering firelight, shining brightly.
"Mr. Zoro, can't sleep?"
Tanjiro asked softly, careful not to wake Zenitsu.
"Yeah… just not used to it being this quiet."
Zoro replied casually, tossing the twig aside.
"On my ship, even in the middle of the night, there's usually some idiot making a racket, or someone throwing a banquet. This lifeless forest is so quiet it makes my ears ring."
Tanjiro paused, then keenly caught the faint emotion hidden within Zoro's words. His nose twitched slightly.
"It smells like… nostalgia." Tanjiro smiled gently. "When you mentioned your 'ship,' your scent became very soft. Even though you sound annoyed, you actually miss your companions, don't you?"
Zoro shot him a sideways glance but didn't deny it. He merely snorted—a clear attempt to cover up being called out.
"Tch. Who'd miss that bunch of troublemakers? Without that curly-browed pervert cook around, no one's picking fights with me, which is quieter. And if that money-grubbing witch were here, she'd probably calculate every fish in this river as debt and sell them back to me."
Though his words were nothing but complaints, the corner of Zoro's mouth lifted unconsciously in the faintest smile.
Watching his expression, Tanjiro's curiosity grew stronger. After spending several days together, he knew Zoro was powerful, directionally challenged, and fond of alcohol—but he knew almost nothing about his past.
"Um… Mr. Zoro." Tanjiro leaned a little closer to the fire, like a child listening to a story. "What kind of person is your captain? For someone as strong as you to follow him, he must be a very dignified and wise hero, right?"
"Hah? Dignified? Wise?"
Zoro laughed as though he'd heard the greatest joke in the world, his shoulders shaking.
"Don't kid yourself. That guy's the biggest idiot on the planet. His brain's filled with nothing but 'meat' and 'adventure.' He never thinks before acting, always drags us into ridiculous trouble. If he wants to go to the sky, we go to the sky. If he wants to dive to the bottom of the sea, we dive to the bottom of the sea. He never considers the consequences."
Zoro shifted into a more comfortable position, propping his chin on one hand, his gaze drifting.
"And he's made of rubber. His body stretches like it's elastic. When he's hungry, he shrivels up like a dried-up old man. When he's full, he turns into a ball. In short, he's infuriating."
"Rub… rubber?" Tanjiro's expression froze as his mind struggled to process a concept far beyond Taisho-era understanding. "Is that… a Blood Demon Art?"
"No. It's a Devil Fruit. A power cursed by the sea. If you eat one, you become a landlubber who can't swim—but you gain special abilities."
Zoro explained patiently, even though speaking of such things in this world sounded like telling a fairy tale.
"That idiot may be stupid, but there's one thing about him I can't help but respect."
Zoro's voice lowered, the firelight illuminating his resolute face.
"He says he's going to become the 'Pirate King'—the freest man on the seas. For that goal, he wouldn't take a single step back even if it meant death. And…"
Zoro subconsciously touched the Wado Ichimonji at his waist.
"When I first met him, I was tied to a post and about to die. That idiot just grinned at me and said—'Be my crewmate.' From that moment on, I decided that if I was going to follow that fool to the very end of his madness, then I'd become the world's greatest swordsman. If I couldn't even do that, then even if he became Pirate King, I'd have no face to stand beside him."
Tanjiro listened quietly.
He could smell it.
It was the scent called "bond."
It was trust thicker than blood. When Zoro spoke of that "idiot captain," the fragrance emanating from the depths of his soul was golden—warm, steadfast, and unshakable.
"That's wonderful…" Tanjiro lowered his head, watching the flames, a gentle light flickering in his eyes. "Even though it sounds unbelievable, I can feel it. That captain must trust you deeply, Mr. Zoro. And you've entrusted your back to him without hesitation… just like Nezuko and me."
"Nezuko?" Zoro raised a brow. He had long noticed that Tanjiro carried the faint scent of a demon, yet different.
"Yes." Tanjiro's gaze was sorrowful yet resolute. "She's my younger sister. Even though she became a demon, she's never eaten a human. I will turn her back into a human, no matter what. Even if I have to face the hatred of the entire world, I will never give up on her."
Zoro looked into Tanjiro's determined eyes. That expression—it was identical to the look that straw-hatted idiot wore when shouting, "I'm going to become the Pirate King."
"…Hmph."
A trace of appreciation curved Zoro's lips.
"Not bad. If you've decided, then don't waver. In this world, sticking to your convictions isn't easy."
He rose to his feet, dusted himself off, and drew Wado Ichimonji, lightly wiping its blade under the moonlight.
"Hey, kid. Go get some sleep. I'll take the second watch."
"Huh? But Mr. Zoro already took the first half of the night—"
"Enough. I was just thinking. Couldn't sleep anyway. And…" Zoro's single eye flashed coldly in the darkness as he looked toward the depths of the forest. "Seems like some death-wishing pests are getting closer. You'd just be in the way."
Tanjiro stiffened and quickly sniffed the air. Sure enough, a rotting stench drifted toward them on the wind.
"Understood! Then I'll rest for a bit. Please wake me immediately if there's danger!"
Tanjiro didn't insist. He knew Zoro's strength, and he truly needed to recover his stamina. Lying down beside Zenitsu with his sword in his arms, he soon slipped into a light sleep.
Zoro stood alone by the stream, listening to the flowing water, though his thoughts lingered on their earlier conversation.
(Pirate King, huh… That idiot Luffy is probably running around looking for me right now. Or maybe he thinks I'm dead and is throwing a banquet to celebrate.)
He raised his blade overhead toward the moon and slowly assumed a starting stance.
(No matter what world I'm in, I won't stop getting stronger. Just wait, Kuina… Luffy. When I return, I'll be even stronger than before.)
"Alright, you trash hiding over there."
Zoro turned to face the pitch-black forest, his trademark bloodthirsty grin spreading across his face.
"If you're here, stop skulking around. We were just talking about the old days—I've got a bit of an itch. Come help me loosen up."
Within the trees, several pairs of crimson eyes lit up, followed by the greedy growls of demons.
This night was destined to be filled once more with slashes and wails.
But for Tanjiro and Zenitsu resting at the camp, there was an inexplicable sense of security—because the man named Roronoa Zoro stood before them like an insurmountable mountain.