A/N – We don't know a thing about Zoro's family. AskdrunkZoro ask blog struck me with inspiration, and until it's proven false by Canon, this is the truth about Zoro's history.

Zoro Was Raised by Chickens

One might often hear someone ask "Were you raised in a barn?" when observing a person's uncouth attitude and manners. Often, too, it is meant to be sarcastic. In fact, there has never been a time when it was asked un-sarcastically. However, there is one person in this strange world, which contains devil fruits and fishmen, who would look you in the eye and say, "Yeah, and?"

And that person would be Roronoa Zoro.

When he was born, he was abandoned by his mother. A barmaid, not that he remembered that, and one which slept with enough men on a regular basis that it would be impossible to tell who his father was (though there might be a clue in his bright green hair; the barmaid's hair was brown). Zoro was abandoned in a farm, where the barmaid had intended for the farmer to raise him.

Unfortunately, the farmer died in a tragic accident involving a wood chipper, and in the end, nobody discovered the baby. No human, that was, for instead, a chicken came clucking out of her coop wondering where the human who ran the farm had gone, and happened upon the strange sight. She recognised the sight as a baby, and her motherly instincts kicked in (she'd had all of her previous eggs taken away and had yet to have a child of her own, so this was a decent substitute).

The baby didn't come with instructions, just a small piece of paper pinned to his clothes stating his name, Roronoa Zoro. The chicken clucked to herself in wonder before hopping over to the box of feed which had long since been pecked open, and took a beakful back to the baby. She dropped the food into Zoro's mouth and he automatically ate it, then turned his eyes to her in wonder.

The other chickens had flocked out now, and were looking at him in wonder. The female chicken who had discovered him turned to the others, and there was a ripple of understanding which passed through them. This child had been abandoned by his human, much like the chickens had now been abandoned by theirs, so they were going to take it upon themselves to be the substitute humans in his life.

They fed him and played with him and did their best to change his clothes, but in the end he had to make do with going around in the nude most of the time. When they couldn't move him or teach him to walk, the farmer's old dog Bingo would trot up and carry him around and teach him how to function by himself. He was also the one who became responsible for dressing Zoro. And that was how they begun to raise him.

Two years had passed, and Zoro could walk and run and imitate farm animals perfectly. What he couldn't do was talk like humans did, so he often went into town accompanied by one of his chicken guardians, and heard people talk. No one questioned why he wasn't with a guardian, because no one paid too much attention to him, assuming he was merely playing outside of his house.

During that time, Zoro not only learned to talk, he also learned to steal, because chickens were not well known for being breadwinners. He grew more as years went on, and learned to fight, when people would challenge him for stealing, or the neighbourhood kids would rough him up. Zoro, at first, imitated his chicken friends by biting down on anyone who dared pick a fight with him, and wasn't really used to using his fists. But surely, there had to be a better way to fight than try to gnaw your enemy to death. And it was during one of those mini-brawls in the street that Zoro saw it, displayed proudly in a shop window; a beautiful, shimmering sword. He didn't know much about using it, but the shop also had pictures of people holding swords and fighting each other. It was glorious! And the blade kind of reminded him of chicken beaks.

He immediately raced home to tell his chicken parents of his discovery.

"Mom! Dad!" He said, repeating what he'd once heard a different child say. Apparently the male parent was the dad, and the female parent was the mum. Zoro knew which one was his mother because she always made sure to assert her authority over everyone else, and he knew which one was his father because there were only two males in a flock of females.

The two he addressed looked at him in curiosity. He went on to explain about his discovery.

"Can you believe it?! It's like a- a- tool from the shed, one of the sharp ones, not one of the digging ones," He waved his arms around in excitement.

"Bwark," his mother said. Zoro nodded.

"Yeah, a sword! They're so beautiful and graceful and I want one so bad! No, why one? The more I have the better I do in a fight, right?" He asked excitedly.

"Boooork," his rooster father snorted. Or it might have been a snort. It was hard to tell.

"Then I won't have to worry about fighting the kids in the village," Zoro explained. He stood, brushing grass from his little knees, and looked around. "AHA!" He cried, upon spotting a long stick which curved slightly at the tip. "This shall be my new sword!" He decided. The chickens scattered.

"Bak, bwak," his mother turned and trotted back into her coop, ruffling her feathers. Zoro's shoulders slumped.

"You don't understand," He stressed, "This is important. I need to learn how to be a great swordsman. No, the best!" He swished his "sword" though the air, eyes glinting with excitement. "No one will dare challenge the great Roronoa Zoro, swordsman!" He crowed in glee. The old dog looked up from where he lay by the farm door, snorted, and went back to sleep. Zoro stuck out his tongue at him. "I'll show you all."

One of the chickens surveyed him curiously before picking up a (significantly smaller) stick of her own, facing him challengingly. Zoro lit up.

"You mean it?!"

"Bckgh."

"YES!" Zoro cheered.

When Zoro was seven, his determination had set, and he was ready to head out. He didn't know much about handling a sword, but he knew the bare basics he could from the guy which ran the sword shop. He'd prepared a boat for himself and some supplies, and was ready to set out into the world and search for a thing the man had mentioned; a dojo. Just the thought of it made Zoro excited.

"Listen, guys," He said as he came out of the farmhouse (because be serious, he was far too large to live in the chicken coop with them). "It's time for me to set out. See the world. Become a man!"

The chickens flocked around him. "Bwark, bwok. Cluck cluck cluck." Zoro held up a hand.

"I know, it's hard to accept. I'll miss you guys too."

"Backaaak."

"Don't worry, I'll be safe. When I find a dojo, they'll feed me, and give me a toothbrush, so you don't have to worry about my dental hygiene."

"Bwork bak bak."

Zoro heaved a sigh. "It's not that I'm ashamed of you guys, you know I love you all! The times we spent together, chasing out the pigeons, digging holes in the garden, eating corn, stealing ale from the local pub…" His eyes went misty with the memories. "…That last one was Bingo's fault."

"Bak! Bwak! Cluck cluck." His father ruffled his feathers. His aunt hopped onto his knee. Zoro smiled at them.

"Yeah, I liked that too. But that's not the point!"

"Bok bowk."

"It's my dream and I need to pursue it!" Zoro yelled defiantly. The chickens jumped away at the sudden loud noise before creeping back slowly. "Listen," Zoro leaned in, "When I leave, all your ties to human society will be gone, but I know you'll survive." He paused to think. "…And Ol' Bingo will chase away any foxes which come by, right? So come on…" He stood.

"Bwok. Bwak."

"Don't try to stop me…" He took a few paces towards the exit, picking up his stick as he went. "You'll always be my family, even if we're not related by blood…"

"Cluck cluck."

Zoro swallowed. "I- I'm gonna miss you. All of you. Mum and Dad. Aunt feathers and Uncle brownbeak. Aunt red-top. Cousin Clucker. All of you!" He choked up on his words and stopped altogether as he walked out of the gate, flicking the latch closed behind him. "G-Goodbye!"

Then he was off for his own adventure, in the wide, weird world.

The chickens watched his retreating back for a few moments before turning to peck idly at the ground.

Job well done.

Twelve years later, Ol' Bingo, who was still alive and kicking (though he'd gone deaf in old age), plodded slowly through the rickety falling apart farm house with a piece of paper in his mouth. The chickens flocked around it in interest. There was a picture of a fine looking green haired man on it with the only two words the chickens could read printed on it. 'RORONOA ZORO'.

They had a celebration that night. Ale taken from the local pub and poured into their drinking bowl, which everyone sat around and pecked at occasionally. They were proud of their little foundling human boy, and the rich life he led.

Far away, on a ship known as the Going Merry, an annoyed navigator stared down at the green haired man in question. She nudged him impatiently with her toe.

"Wake up!" She insisted.

"Don't disturb Swordsman-san during his nap, Navigator-san," Robin gently scolded. Nami huffed and pouted at her.

"But he sleeps all the time!" She whined.

"Heeeh?" A groan came from by her feet. Nami looked down.

"Oh good, you're awake. Why do you sleep so much then?" She prompted with her hands on her hips. He blinked groggily at her, yawning into his hand before shrugging.

"Chickens sleep a lot." She stared at him in blank confusion.

"…What?"

From the Galley came a howl of laughter. "Did I hear that correctly?!" He laughed with tears in his eyes. "Did the big scary green monster just refer to himself as a chicken?!" He bashed his fist on the banister as he laughed harder, gripping his side. Zoro glared at him.

"What- I don't- I didn't mean it like coward! In fact, I take offence to your implication, you shitty cook!" Sanji just laughed harder, falling over in his mirth.

"Oh god, oh god, you're killing me!"

Zoro gritted his teeth but didn't retaliate. They didn't know anything, but it was their loss really. He rolled over and fell back to sleep in the sun, and dreamt of a grassy home surrounded by a barbed wire fence and a cosy little coop for his chicken family. Whoever said chickens were a symbol of cowardice were fools; his family of chickens dared to take in a human child and raise him by themselves, and that was one of the bravest acts in the world.