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Chaos. The battlefield around them went still for what felt like a brief eternity as Kaido landed a final, lethal blow. A small figure (and god, he was so small next to that towering dragon) plummeted from the sky, still billowing steam in wreaths.
A dead weight, as though he was an anchor with its rope cut, sinking to the sea floor.
Zoro could hear someone, Nami, probably, screaming “LUFFY!”, but it was muffled and distant through his ringing ears, as though he had been plunged into the deep, crushing water, cold beneath the cruel waves.
His vision had completely narrowed down, tunnel vision reducing his sight to hyperfocus on the unconscious form as it plunged to its resting place.
Badum. Badum. Badum. Bad-.... Silence.
Zoro’s chest contracted, as he felt something snap with a sharp twang, sending a pang of blisteringly cold pain through him.
His eyes widened. Lurching forward, his feet tried to carry him to his captain. Catch him. Save him. Protect him. His knees buckled. Zoro landed heavily on his knees, arms hanging limp and useless at his sides.
He dully recognised the feeling of his swords, Sandai Kitetsu, and Enma slipping out of his shocked-lax hands, Wado Ichimonji falling from his slack jaw. Zoro didn’t hear the clink of metal on stone as they fell. He didn’t hear the cries of shock, sorrow, fear, and triumph sounding from all around him. He didn’t hear Nami’s silent, shaking sobs. He didn’t hear the cook’s gasp and disbelieving curse. He didn’t hear Robin’s quiet “Sencho!” He didn’t hear Ussop’s uncharacteristic quietness. He didn't notice anything. Nothing but the impact of Luffy’s body as it hit the ground. The crater it formed. The massive cloud of dust that rose from the force of his fall.
Zoro was so, so cold.
He felt frozen to the core, as though his very heart had stopped its perpetual chore, frozen solid by the sudden cold. Zoro felt as though he would never warm again. His Sun had been extinguished.
Zoro couldn't hear anything. His captain’s heart was still. The steady drumbeat of that rubbery muscle pumping freedom and laughter through Luffy’s body was conspicuously missing.
Silenced forever.
And in its wake, it left a vacuum, a gaping maw of silence that sucked every other sound into it. Without that ever-present pacer, Zoro was lost. How could he move? What was he to match his footfall to? How could he time the swing of his swords?
His body, it seemed, was not as useless as his heart or mind, and it reclaimed its grip on his swords, Wado clenched between locked jaws, as his arms swung up with Haki hardened blades to meet the heavy head of an axe with a resounding clang.
Like a flood, sound filled Zoro’s ears, his vision widening once again to encompass the barren rock plane they fought on. It was overwhelming. Even as his senses filled, his mind remained empty, incapable of comprehending the undeniable fact of Luffy’s death.
Thankfully, his muscle memory forced his body to fend off blow after blow, defeating enemies as they surged on the remaining Strawhats. It seemed they were spurned by the fall of the largest threat, Strawhat Luffy, and decided to take advantage of the horrified state of the crew.
Too bad. Zoro wasn’t losing anyone else to this fight. He would never be able to join his captain knowing he had left the others defenceless. His own fall would have to wait.
As Zoro mindlessly cut down the last enemy in his path, numb and detached, his ears twitched. He picked up a faint sound. Quiet, but quickly gaining a soaring volume. It was achingly familiar, yet foreign and wrong.
He dared not hope.
Bum. Bum. Bum. Bum. Bum.
The battlefield seemed to go still around Zoro, as though it was all narrowed down to that one pinprick of sound.
Looking around, the battle raged on, yet everything was muted, as though the drum beat had overtaken his ears, leaving them only able to hear that steady pound.
He recognised that steady thrum.
And how could he not, when Zoro’s own heart was beating to its tune?
To the pace of a beloved rubber one. One stretched to full capacity to encompass all. One that soared high in the sky as they sailed toward the horizon. One belonging to his Captain.
Zoro’s eyes opened (when had he closed them?) as he heaved out a disbelieving, yet relieved nonetheless, sigh. His ears filled with the booming sound of drums and the laugh of a god. A white streak flew across the inky sky, stilling, suspended like a portrait framed by the moon. A figure who glowed like the sun with divine power. Heavenly.
Luffy.
His frozen body warmed as his heart seemed to resume its duty, thawed by the Sun like ice-coated pine needles. He felt as though he had never been warm before this moment. As though he was only now stepping into the comfort of the Sun. Though Luffy had always been the Sun to Zoro, who had contented himself with being the worshipping Moon.
Zoro scoffed, flexing his hands around the hilts of his swords as he regained his body, still shaken, but now unworried.
Kaido never stood a chance.