In Her Arms

By Mr Khan

Imagine my surprise when I discovered something else canonical that could definitely be interpreted from a ZoRo standpoint. It didn't hit me when I first watched it, but when I thought about it, I understood. Either 403 or 404 in the anime, forget which, but very close to the crew's breakup.

She had to save him. It was a decision reached in the span of a moment, almost automatic at this point: he was a nakama, and he was in mortal danger; therefore he must be saved. His mortal danger was immediate, his doom hanging over him in the form of a man's leg that glowed with a lethal light as he lay on his back, fully conscious, but powerless. Only she could lend him a helping hand at the speed required to save him. Her arms sprang out of the ground, twenty of them, to form an impromptu conveyor belt that would be able to whisk him to relative safety but a few yards away.

Her arms rolled his body away quickly, flipping it again and again. Speed was of a greater concern here than his comfort, though he was badly injured and his body could ill-afford the jostling she was giving it. Finally he reached the end of her row of arms and she almost exhaled, confident that she had indeed saved him for the moment. Her breath caught in her throat, however, as the man moved. Well, moved wasn't exactly the right word. His posture remained fixed as he dematerialized into light and shifted over to be atop her nakama's prone form again. He brought his foot down, not in the killing blow, but merely to pin her nakama's injured frame to the ground. She still had a grip on him and tried to move him, but the man had her nakama pinned firmly.

That is it, then, her reason suggested. He is going to die she thought from the cold, hardened place in her heart where the ruthless, 20-year survivor in her still dwelt. Let him go, came a cold, selfish voice, no sense in your arms getting injured when he gets killed. All of these voices floated to the surface in an instant, all fragments of the hard-nosed Nico Robin who had lived for so many years against incredible odds and without a friend in the world, the Nico Robin who would let anyone perish for a chance at survival.

But that was no longer her. Measured in days, her time with them had been short indeed, but had transformed her utterly. She would not let him go. That would have been the case if it were any of her nakama held thus in her arms, faced with inevitable death, but this was all the more compelling. She would not let him go. This muscular swordsman, so strong, so lethal, so able, now lay helpless in her arms. No, she would not let him go.

Roronoa Zoro. Once he had been an enemy, as had everyone that currently fought alongside her. Even when he had ceased to be an enemy, he had remained a problem. He had continued to suspect her, to doubt her motives, long after the others had accepted her presence. She had seen what he was capable of at Alabasta and had gained a healthy respect for his strength. She knew his type, too. Trust was earned for someone like him, not given, and earning someone's trust had been a new opportunity for her, and made her respect him all the more.

She knew that she had earned that trust by Skypiea, when he had caught her from falling to the ground after she had been attacked by Enel. That event stood out the most out of all of their interactions, mostly because it had been unnecessary. She had already been struck, it wouldn't have mattered if he had caught her or not, but he had decided to catch her, betraying a depth of consideration that she would never have suspected was present, but that was not the only thing she remembered. He had been there again when they had encountered Aokiji, intervening with his swords to prevent her from suffering the same fate as Saul. He had stood there with the rest of them at Enies Lobby, ready to defy the world for her sake. She had even discovered his selfless, secret sacrifice at Thriller Bark, giving himself over to unspeakable injury at the hands of Bartholomew Kuma in order to save herself and the rest of the crew. For her, he had stood against Admirals, Gods, Shichibukai, and the world itself. She would not let him go.

It was time. The look on Kizaru's face changed slightly, intent upon his kill. She wanted this to stop, to end, to go away, she wanted to wake up from this nightmare. If only she could move him, or assault Kizaru, but both were impossible. His diabolical devil fruit powers meant he would get what he wanted. She even wished that she could trade places with him, or at least had time to scream her feelings out for him to hear. Anything. She owed him so much more than this, than to merely hold him in her arms while he was killed.

But that was all she could do. The world was a cruel place, something she knew all too well, and she knew she should count herself lucky that she could even do this small thing for him in his final moments. She could see it in Kizaru's face: it was time. She tightened her grip a little, hoping that it would give some measure of comfort, so protection, or even that a tiny hint of her feelings could reach that man before the end. Kizaru's leg moved, and she braced herself, tightening her grip further.

He was saved by what could only be called a miracle, saved by the fact that the only man for hundreds of miles who could even hope to stand up to Kizaru came and blocked the kick. The moment passed, and she had no time to do anything about it, as even with Kizaru occupied they were still in tremendous danger. Many significant things happened on that day, altering her life yet again, but in the days that followed, she found herself pondering that moment, the moment when she had held Roronoa Zoro in her arms, and had not let go.

Author's Note: It's really an easy moment to miss in terms of significance, isn't it? Like I said, I didn't really think about it for a while, but then I realized that Zoro almost died in Robin's arms. Definitely significant. Reviews are appreciated, thanks!