Year 1523.
Darkness.
With his eyes tightly bound by a blindfold, Zoro's world became a void of darkness.
His fingers curled instinctively around the hilts of his swords the very instant he heard the faint whisper of fabric shifting somewhere to his left. It was barely a sound at all, a feather-soft rustle carried on still air, yet it was enough to set every trained nerve in his body on edge. After that brief disturbance, silence tightened again, falling over the battleground like a thick winter cloak.
Robbed of sight, Zoro had no choice but to depend entirely on everything else he possessed. His hearing, sharpened by countless battles. His sense of touch, attuned to every shift in pressure. His intuition, honed into a honed blade of its own. The slightest sound could mean danger, and danger meant survival.
And yet, the twenty-year-old swordsman remained as steady as an ancient boulder. There was no panic. No hesitation. This darkness had become familiar. It was the harsh environment of his training, a merciless regimen he had endured for multiple unforgiving days and nights. Fighting blind had evolved from challenge to instinct, from instinct to an extension of his body.
He had done something like this before too, years ago, back when he was just a brash and inexperienced kid swinging sticks and chasing dreams.
For a brief flicker of a second, memories of his childhood came unbidden, playing like a phantom slideshow in his mind. That momentary distraction nearly cost him dearlywhen a blade came swinging for his head.
Thankfully, his reflexes kicked in just in time. He ducked and twisted, narrowly escaping the merciless slice of his unseen opponent. But not without consequence, as a sharp sting erupted on his cheek, followed by the warm trickle of blood. He winced. A close shave, literally.
Still, a shallow cut was a far better outcome than losing his head. Had he hesitated a second longer, his skull might have already been rolling on the ground while the earth drank his blood.
Gritting his teeth, Zoro responded with a sharp spin, unleashing a counterstrike with enough force to split stone. His blade sliced through the darkness in a deadly arc.
It hit nothing. Only empty air. Again.
"You've gotten slightly better than yesterday," a cold, emotionless voice echoed from the shadows.
Zoro did not need to see the speaker to identify who it was. He had lived with this man for a year, and that frozen, razor-edged tone was unmistakable.
Dracule Mihawk was a man of few words, and he would not waste time saying pointless thing. If that man had spoken now, it meant the training session had concluded.
Zoro did not need sight to know the identity of the speaker. That icy tone belonged to one man only, a man he had lived with for an entire year. Dracule Mihawk did not waste words. If he had spoken, it meant the training session had concluded.
Breathing steadily, Zoro rose to his full height despite the countless aches and burns decorating his body. He sheathed Sandai Kitetsu and Shusui with practiced precision, then removed the Wado Ichimonji from between his teeth. His hand reached up and tugged away the blindfold, revealing one sharp, focused eye.
His other eye remained tightly closed beneath the fresh scar slashed across his eyelid. A trophy carved by Mihawk himself, along with the merciless wound stretching down his torso.
"Only slightly better, huh?" Zoro muttered, lowering his gaze to the blade in his hand. No one could say what churned in his mind. Determination, irritation, stubborn resolve. But before any thought could settle, an all too familiar sound erupted.
"Horohorohoro!"
His eye twitched. That grating laugh could only belong to one infuriating individual. Floating forward with her annoying tiny ghosts swirling around her, Perona arrived like a pink storm of shrill complaints.
"Goshhh! Just look at the absolute disaster you two created!" she shrieked, planting her hands on her hips as she pointed at the scene of destruction. Trees had been reduced to stumps, massive boulders were cleaved clean in half, and the ground bore deep, jagged scars from relentless sword clashes.
And she was not done.
As always, she launched into a dramatic tirade about how this gloomy, wrecked landscape was no place for a princess like herself to be living in. Zoro, wisely, tuned her out the moment she started. Her voice became background noise, like an annoying seagull squawking overhead.
Life on this gloomy island consisted of three people, which included himself, the annoying Ghost Princess, and Shichibukai Dracule Mihawk. Quite the odd trio, considering they were all enemies at some point. Yet somehow, they ahd coexisted for nearly a year without killing each other. That was a miracle in itself. Then again, Zoro had nearly died more than once, thanks to Mihawk's monstrous training.
He had ended up on this island a year ago, courtesy of that freak of nature, Bartholomew Kuma. And by some strange twist of fate, Perona had been sent here too. How or why was still a mystery, but the two had somehow ended up living in Mihawk's castle together.
The swordsman remained as stoic and intimidating as ever. Perona herself had changed considerably. Gone were her childish pigtails and frills. Now she wore a long, flowing black dress, paired with a matching hat. Her long hair cascaded freely down her back, giving her a mature, almost haunting charm.
Zoro felt like he had changed too. While he still carried the same goals and convictions, his mind was sharper, and his temper was more controlled. He had matured, hardened by the relentless grind. He was undeniably stronger now, though still nowhere near the level he aspired to be, which was to be strong enough to defeat Mihawk, the man he now grudgingly called sensei.
Under Mihawk's ruthless guidance, he had honed his swordsmanship to terrifying levels. He had learned how to unleash the full potential of his blades, and had even begun to grasp the mysterious power of Haki. Now, he could coat his swords in Busoshoku Haki, just like Mihawk did. More recently, he had awakened Kenbunshoku Haki, and today's training had been specifically designed to sharpen that sixth sense by depriving him of his vision.
"HEY!"
Perona's shrill cry snapped him back. He blinked. At some point, Mihawk had disappeared, as if the man had turned into mist and drifted away. Zoro now found himself stuck alone with an angry ghost princess who had clearly been ranting at him for a while.
Her complaints bounced wildly like cannon fire. From his injuries, to his bandages, to how disgusting the training ground looked. She reminded him of Chopper scolding him after every battle. Not that Zoro would ever admit he missed that tiny reindeer.
If Chopper saw him now, he'd probably go ballistic.
"Did you hear a single thing I said?!" Perona shrieked, veins popping.
Zoro grit his teeth, exasperated. Why the hell had Kuma sent her here? All she did was yap, complain, and poke at his patience like a bad itch.
"Aghhh! I got it already!" he snapped, finally breaking his silence.
Perona was not pleased. She jabbed her finger against his forehead, glaring fiercely. "After all the times I treated your disgusting wounds, this is how you treat me? By ignoring me?! You are so not cute!"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"
"Exactly what it sounds like, you moron!"
And like every day, the argument exploded again, loud and dramatic.
But it did not last long.
Suddenly, Zoro's one visible eye narrowed. A chill ran down his spine. Something was wrong. He looked up, and there it was. A gleam in the sky, something small and fast barreling toward them like a meteor.
Alarm bells blared in his head. Without hesitation, he lunged forward, pushing Perona aside and drawing Wado Ichimonji to intercept the incoming object.
CLANG!
The impact sent a shockwave through the ground. Whatever that thing was, it packed serious power. Zoro grunted but managed to deflect it, redirecting it toward the ground.
BOOM!
To the place where that thing just landed, an explosion occurred.
Seeing the destruction before her, Perona gulped. If that thing had landed on her, she would be blown to pieces! Then she remembered that her real body was somewhere in Mihawk's castle, and she sighed in relief. But then, she realized the situation didn't seem good.
"Wh-Where did that come from?!" she stammered, scanning the skies.
Unlike Perona who was panicking, Zoro remained calm.
"You should improve your Kenbunshoku Haki," he said.
Perona looked ready to explode again, but the anger dissolved when she noticed how serious he was. His focus was locked entirely on the sky.
She followed his gaze.
Her jaw dropped.