Straw Hat Castaways: The Marimo and the Shit Cook's 72 Hours
When a violent storm tears through the Grand Line, Zoro and Sanji are ripped from the Thousand Sunny and washed ashore on a desolate, uncharted island in the lawless Graveyard of the Calm. No ship. No crew. No way to call for help. Just the world's worst combination—a directionally challenged swordsman and a hotheaded cook—stranded together with nothing but seawater, silence, and each other's company.
With only three days to survive before a Navy patrol might pass by, the two must scavenge for
Straw Hat Castaways: The Marimo and the Shit Cook's 72 Hours - The Island's Master and the Shadow of the Sea — The Rock Crab and the Suspicious Ship
Morning light bleached the cave mouth white.
Zoro sat on the rocks with Wado Ichimonji laid across his knees, staring out at the sea. The waves were far calmer than yesterday, and the sky—gray until now—let a thin blue show through this morning. The wind was lukewarm, and every so often the smell of salt grew stronger.
His stomach gave a small growl.
Day three. There was almost nothing left to eat. The mayfly nuts were bitter, and Sanji had roasted them over the fire to make them barely edible, but even those were running out.
"Oi, shit cook. What's the plan today?"
Zoro spoke without turning around.
Sanji's voice came back from inside the cave.
"What's the plan? How about you go find something we can actually eat. I was up roasting nuts for your share yesterday."
Sanji came out of the cave. His black suit was stiff with sand and salt, his blond hair a mess. Even so, he wore his usual easy smirk. A broken twig hung from his lips. Unlit.
Zoro stood and slid his sword through his sash.
"There were rocks on the north side of the island. Might be able to catch something there."
"Huh. You, volunteering to gather food? What's wrong, running a fever?"
"Shut up. It's because everything you make tastes like crap."
"Hah!? Say that again, you shitty marimo!"
The two glared at each other.
But a moment later, both looked away at the same time. That was the strange rhythm the past three days had settled into.
Zoro started walking north. Sanji sighed and followed.
Past the low scrub, the sound of the surf grew closer. The dirt underfoot turned to rock, and black, wet stone led down to the sea. Waves broke against the rocks, throwing up white spray.
"Around here. There's a big crab in the gap between the rocks."
Zoro crouched by the rocks and peered into a tide pool.
Two or three small fish darted away like shadows. Beyond them, in the crevice between two rocks, something moved.
Zoro shoved his right hand in without hesitation.
The next instant—clank—a heavy sound.
"...Ghh."
Zoro's face twisted slightly with pain.
His right index and middle fingers were caught in something hard as stone. He looked—a huge crab draped in rock-like algae, a rock crab a good two feet long, had clamped its pincer down on his fingers.
"You bastard... let go."
Zoro grabbed the crab's shell with his left hand and tried to pry it off. But the crab only clamped down harder. His finger bones creaked with an ugly sound.
"Oi oi, what're you doing, marimo!"
Sanji came running.
Zoro grimaced, but his pride as a swordsman wouldn't let him complain.
"You think a little scratch like this'll stop me from swinging a sword?"
"This is no time to act tough! Keep that up and your fingers'll break!"
Sanji scanned the area quickly and snatched up a thin piece of driftwood.
"Hold still. I'm aiming for the base of the pincer."
Sanji wedged the tip of the driftwood into the joint of the crab's pincer.
He put his weight into it.
"Damn... this thing's hard as hell!"
With a crack, the pincer opened slightly. In that instant, Zoro yanked his right hand free.
His fingers were swollen red, turning purple. Nothing looked broken, but it was a nasty bruise.
The crab scrambled to flee back into the crevice.
But Sanji was faster.
He swung one leg up and drove his heel down onto the crab's shell.
Thud.
The rock crab flipped over, exposing its white belly, and went still.
"Tch. Making me do all the work."
Sanji pulled a knife from his waist. When he'd gotten it out, Zoro had no idea—a single kitchen knife sat in his hand.
Zoro watched Sanji's work while cradling his swollen fingers.
Sanji flipped the crab over and slid the tip of the knife into the seam of its belly.
Zak.
With a light sound, the shell came off. Orange miso spilled out from inside, rich and plentiful.
"Good miso. This alone'll make a fine stock."
Sanji broke the crab down quickly. Off came the legs, out came the meat, and the miso was gathered into the shell. His knife work was like a magic trick.
Zoro watched in silence.
(...Not bad at all.)
He didn't say it aloud. But somewhere in his heart, he honestly thought so.
"Your cooking's the one thing about you that's solid."
"That's news to you now? Everything you eat, I'm the one who made it."
Sanji wrapped the crab meat in leaves and stood.
"Come on, let's head back. Today it's miso soup."
The two returned to the cave.
Inside, it was a little cooler than out. Sanji got a fire going and stacked stones into a makeshift stove. He filled a small pot with water and dropped in the crab miso and meat.
The water began to bubble.
The good smell of crab spread through the whole cave.
Zoro leaned against the wall, watching. His right hand still throbbed.
(Using the hand that holds my sword for this.)
As a swordsman, he was frustrated by his own uselessness. Caught by a crab, of all things—maybe unable to swing a sword. For a moment, that fear crossed his chest.
"Oi, marimo."
Sanji called out.
"Yeah."
"Let me see that hand."
Zoro hesitated, then held out his right hand.
Sanji took his fingers and checked the swelling.
"Nothing's broken. But it's gonna hurt for a while. Don't grip a sword today."
"I know that without you telling me."
Zoro pulled his hand back.
Sanji gave a wry smile and turned back to the pot.
"Well, I don't hate that reckless streak of yours, for what it's worth."
Zoro said nothing.
The miso soup was ready.
Sanji poured the steaming soup into two bowls. It was full of crab meat and miso.
Then Sanji moved almost all the crab meat from his own bowl into Zoro's.
"Oi, what're you doing?"
"Feeding the hungry—that's what a cook does. You haven't eaten properly since yesterday, have you."
"What about your share?"
"The stock's plenty for me. A cook fills up on tasting."
Sanji tried to light a cigarette, then remembered he didn't have any. He smiled wryly and bit down on the twig.
Zoro took the bowl.
He didn't say thanks.
But watching Sanji smile with those hollow cheeks, something deep in his chest gave a small pang.
(You're the one who hasn't eaten properly.)
Zoro sipped the miso soup in silence.
The crab stock soaked into his body.
"...Delicious."
He said it quietly.
Sanji looked startled for a moment, then grinned, pleased.
"Damn right it is."
Night came.
The firelight sent the two men's shadows swaying across the cave walls.
Zoro fed wood into the fire, then slipped his hand inside his haramaki.
The old sea chart he'd found deep in the cave that night.
He'd been wavering all this time over whether to show Sanji.
"Hey, shit cook."
"Hm?"
"I found something strange deep in the cave."
Zoro pulled a folded piece of animal hide from his haramaki.
Sanji looked up.
"What's that?"
"A sea chart. A really old one."
Zoro handed the chart to Sanji.
Sanji spread it open and held it up to the firelight.
The hide was dry and cracked, the writing faded in places. But the routes drawn on it remained clear.
Sanji's eyes caught the words written in the corner of the chart.
"The road to All Blue."
Sanji's hand trembled slightly.
"...Why would something like this be here?"
"No idea. But this island isn't normal. It's at the center of the graveyard of calms—driftwood's been collecting here for ages. Someone must've left it behind."
Sanji held the chart in both hands like a treasure, staring at it.
The firelight reflected in his blue eyes.
"All Blue... the sea I've been searching for."
Zoro watched Sanji's profile in silence.
On the back of the chart was carved that strange crest—a spiral crossed with swords.
Zoro said nothing about it.
Not because he feared Sanji's expression would change.
He simply didn't want to interrupt Sanji while he was talking about his dream.
"Hey, marimo."
"Yeah."
"With this chart, maybe... maybe we can get out of this sea."
"Yeah."
That was all Zoro said.
Sanji folded the chart and tucked it inside his suit.
"...Thanks, marimo."
"Don't thank me. It's creepy."
"You—I went and thanked you sincerely, and that's what I get!"
The two traded a light glare, then, without either starting it, both laughed.
The night deepened.
The fire swayed quietly.
That was when it happened.
Sanji suddenly raised his head.
"...Oi, marimo. Look."
Zoro looked up too.
Beyond the sea visible from the cave mouth. On the horizon, a single small light.
A ship's lantern.
"A ship?"
The two stood and ran out onto the beach.
The night sea was dark, but calm, the sound of the waves faint. The light on the horizon was slowly—but surely—drawing closer.
"Oi! Over here!"
Sanji raised both arms and shouted.
Zoro waved too.
But the ship didn't come closer.
It slackened its sails offshore and simply stopped.
As if observing them.
"...What's going on?"
Zoro's eyes narrowed.
Sanji lowered his arms too, staring at the sea with a grim expression.
"Something's off. Normally, if they spotted castaways, they'd come closer to help."
"Yeah. That one's watching to see what we do."
Zoro put his hand on the sword at his hip.
His grip on the hilt tightened.
"Shit cook, get back to the cave."
"Why the hell would I? I'm staying too."
"You save your strength. I'll handle this."
"Even so, you think I'd leave you to do it alone!?"
While the two argued, the ship didn't move.
Eventually, the eastern sky began to pale.
Morning had come.
The ship's full shape rose out of the dim light.
A large pirate ship, a good hundred and fifty feet long. Its hull was patched with something like mud, giving it a crude, unsettling look.
"...That's a pirate ship."
"Yeah. And not a decent one."
A man stood at the bow.
Short silver hair slicked straight back. Bulging golden eyes. A giant of a man, well over six feet. The left half of his face bore a mud-like birthmark that shifted and squirmed now and then.
A leather pouch stuffed with gold coins hung at his waist.
"The Gargantua."
Sanji muttered low.
"You know it?"
"Yeah. A bounty-hunting pirate crew that's made this stretch of sea their base. They sell castaways' bounties to the Navy, or hold them for ransom. The lowest of the low."
A small boat was lowered from the ship.
Several men climbed in and headed toward shore.
"Shit cook, you go back to the cave."
"I told you, I'm—"
Mid-sentence, Sanji's body swayed.
"Oi, what's wrong?"
Zoro grabbed Sanji's shoulder.
Sanji's body was burning hot.
"...What is this. All of a sudden, my body's so heavy."
Sanji's face was dead white.
The chill and exhaustion of the night before had come crashing down on him all at once.
"You've got a fever, don't you."
"A fever's nothing...!"
Sanji tried to shake off Zoro's hand, but his legs tangled and he collapsed onto the sand.
"Shit cook!"
Zoro scooped Sanji up and carried him to the cave.
The small boat drew closer to the beach.
Zoro laid Sanji deep inside the cave.
"Stay here and sleep. Don't move."
"You're going alone...! That captain's no ordinary man...!"
"I know. That's why you rest."
Zoro stood and headed for the cave mouth.
On the beach, the men had landed.
At the front stood the silver-haired giant.
Gerzo Balbarossa.
He walked slowly across the sand.
The mud-like mark on his face moved like a living thing.
"Ho. So the rumors are true—there's a green-haired swordsman here."
Balbarossa sized Zoro up with those bulging golden eyes.
"Roronoa Zoro. What was the bounty again... ah yes, three hundred twenty million berries. You'll fetch a fine price."
Zoro kept his hand on his sword and didn't give an inch.
"You're after the bounty."
"Naturally. In these waters, human heads are the best gold there is. I've been waiting a long time for big fish like you to wash ashore."
Balbarossa tapped the leather pouch at his waist.
The coins clinked.
"Now then, there should be one more—Black Leg Sanji. Where is he?"
"None of your business."
"Don't hide him. He's down with a fever, isn't he. I've been wat
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