Chapter 24
"This place is huge," Zoro muttered, eyes scanning the streets like he was trying to memorize landmarks and already failing.
Loguetown stretched wide and loud—stone alleys branching like veins, buildings stacked with crooked balconies and faded signs. The air smelled like grilled fish, forge smoke, and rain that hadn't arrived yet. People moved fast, bumping shoulders, shouting orders, haggling over knives and fruit. Somewhere nearby, a bell rang. Somewhere else, a dog barked and didn't stop.
"Which is why you're sticking close," Silas said, pointing toward a cluster of shops tucked between a forge and a noodle stand.
"Weapon district's that way. We'll find you real blades, ditch those butter knives, and maybe I'll—"
CLANG.
Steel on steel. A sharp cry. Then shouting.
A crowd surged toward the noise like water rushing downhill.
Zoro's head snapped toward the sound. "That a fight?"
"Sounds like one," Silas said. "Five minutes. Then we shop."
---
They pushed through the crowd—Zoro's scowl parting bodies like a battering ram, Silas trailing behind with a polite "excuse me" that somehow worked just as well.
The square was packed. People leaned out of windows, stood on crates, craned necks. A vendor abandoned his stall mid-sale. A man with a broom froze mid-sweep. The tension was magnetic.
In the center, a girl faced two men. Short black hair. Wire-rimmed glasses. Her stance was clean—feet planted, blade steady, eyes locked.
"Give up!" one man barked.
"Two against one!"
She adjusted her glasses, voice calm.
"Odds don't matter. Surrender, and I'll go easy."
They laughed. Charged.
It should've worked.
It didn't.
---
She moved like water—fluid, precise, relentless.
Slash. One sword flew from a thug's hand, spinning into the crowd.
Clang. Twist. Thud. The second man dropped, groaning.
The crowd erupted.
"She took them both down!"
"Did you see that?!"
---
She swayed slightly. Her glasses slipped, clattered to the cobblestones.
Zoro stepped forward, scooped them up.
"Here," he said, holding them out—
Then froze.
---
Her face. Not identical. But the eyes. The jaw. The way she stood.
Kuina.
Tashigi squinted.
"Um… could I have those back? I can't see."
Zoro didn't move.
Then his hand clenched.
CRACK.
The glasses shattered in his grip. Blood welled from his palm.
"My glasses!" she shrieked.
"What did you do?!"
She dropped to her knees, groping for the pieces.
"Please replace them!"
Zoro just stared. Haunted.
"You…" he rasped.
"I WHAT?!" she cried, near tears.
"You broke them and now you won't even apologize?!"
---
Silas sighed.
Shit.
He knelt beside her, dropped a generous handful of berries.
"Should cover new glasses. Sorry for my friend's sudden case of brain damage."
She blinked, stunned.
"This is… very generous. Thank you!"
She looked up.
"You're much nicer than your green-haired friend!"
"Yeah, well," Silas muttered, grabbing Zoro's arm.
"Come on, moss-head."
Zoro let himself be pulled, still staring back at the squinting girl clutching her windfall.
"Hey!" she called.
"What's your name?"
But they were already gone.
---
The crowd began to disperse, murmuring about the fight, the swordswoman, the strange man who crushed glasses like paper.
"Zoro," Silas said quietly as they turned down a quieter street.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine," Zoro replied, voice flat.
"Uh-huh." Silas didn't push.
"Whatever that was," he said,
"Let's get you some swords. And some distance."
---
They walked in silence. The streets narrowed, noise thinning into the rhythmic clang of blacksmiths and the hiss of whetstones. The weapon district smelled like oil and iron and heat.
Zoro's fingers kept drifting to his hilts.
"That girl," he said suddenly.
"What about her?"
"She… reminded me of someone."
"Someone important?"
Silence.
Then, as they turned onto a street full of weapon shops:
"Someone dead."
---
Silas nodded. Filed it away.
Everyone had ghosts.
But right now, they had swords to buy.
"Swords," he said.
"Yeah," Zoro replied, still distant.
"Swords."