He always knew something wasn't quite accurate in the dream, but that never mitigated the impact. It wasn't that he remembered he'd been training, instead of standing in the hall outside the storeroom. It wasn't that he recalled that he'd been utterly oblivious until the other students told him, instead of hearing a short, abruptly-ended cry, but nonetheless each time he had the dream there was always a feeling of things twisted, a warped apprehension permeating him as his feet took him once again down the hall he hadn't been in. The dojo was nonsensically dark, and empty of people. He saw the flash of Kuina's white pant leg disappear around the edge of the doorway. His urge to hurry after and catch her grew stronger every second, and he ran, without catching up. He shouted, and his voice was swallowed. And while he raced in vain to catch her, he somehow felt… heard… saw.. her foot slipped on the stair, her body twisted in midair, her hair fanned out around her head as she fell. Blackness bled over everything but Zoro's inarticulate howls and sound of Kuina's surprise followed by the crunch of breaking bone.

He woke then, he always did. Reality seeped slowly back. The wood against his back, the clouded bur of night sky lightening slightly to the east, the vaguely salt-tanged misty drizzle that floated in the air, and the dark shadow of Luffy leaning over him.

"That sounded like a real bad dream." The wannabe pirate captain said, his voice toned slighty lower than usual, perhaps out of instinctive respect for nighttime. Zoro blinked, and tried to force his racing heart to slow to normal speed. Luffy withdrew his hand and sat back down. "Want something to drink?" He rummaged for a moment, then thrust a bottle at Zoro, who took it automatically.

"So, what was it about?" Luffy asked, startling Zoro as he twisted at the cork. The question was asked with the same guileless curiosity Luffy always had, and Zoro was too surprised by it to be offended at the presumptuousness of the inquiry. The very few times he'd jerked awake from that particular nightmare in the presence of others, they had always been hesitant to speak long enough for him to muster a proper quelling glare. But this was Luffy, who, Zoro was fast learning, generally ignored normal emotional comfort zones in a way that implied he wasn't aware there were supposed to be any at all.

So Zoro told him. Luffy listened to his explanation, which gradually branched into a full-fleged life-story, like a child listens to a bedtime story. He didn't seem to notice Zoro's hand clutching convulsively at the hilt of the white sword throughout, or the wetness that gleamed in his eyes in the lessening dark of pre-dawn.

"Maaaaa…" Luffy sighed, when Zoro trailed off at last, and started wrestling with the cork again. "I woulda loved to meet her. She sounds great."

Zoro tensed for a moment, and wrenched the cork out at last. He looked up across the skiff to see Luffy fingering the brim of his hat and watching him, the expression on his face solemn.

"She was."