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Zoro hates the Christmas season. All commercialized holidays annoy him, but for the others, at least he sees the whys. New Year's is for reflecting on the past and resolving on the future. Thanksgiving is to celebrate the harvest farmers get in the fall. Halloween is a giant game that everyone participates in just for fun. Even Valentine's Day has its moments when Zoro appreciates the chance to show the cook some love just because. But what is Christmas? Some dude's birthday, a god he doesn't believe in. Neither does the cook, but the cook insists on going all out every year.
"You can just send a text in this day and age, you know." Zoro grumbles as he watches the blond write that same sentence on each damn card in that pretty cursive of his. "Or better yet, just talk to them when you actually have something to say."
"I know it comes with being green, but stop being the Grinch already!" Sanji taps the end of his pen on the swordsman's forehead. "Come on, smile! Christmas spirits, Marimo!"
Zoro gives his best bored face in reply, and the blond only chuckles at him before going back to the cards. The cook must be really feeling the holiday cheers. Even his insults are going soft.
Zoro's not heartless. Of course he feels it too, that magically, no, suspiciously warm and fuzzy scent that's in the air every year around this time, the one that makes his heart swell and his eyes water for no reason at all. His instinct raises more red flags at this than anything else that regularly occurs in his life. Anyone with a shred of logic should know that the world doesn't just miraculously become a better place for a month then go back to being dark and cruel for the rest of the year. It's all deception, aimed to lower a man's guard. It'll be stripped away when he least expects it, and he'll wake up to find himself vulnerable to the world. A deception of this scale every year is rather impressive, but he's not one to fall for such things.
"Do you think Santa will see my list?" Chopper watches with those big twinkling eyes as the cook seals his Christmas list into a red envelope and addresses it for the North Pole.
"Of course," the cook lies, "Santa always receives all the lists."
"Santa's not real, Chopper. The cook's been buying your gifts each year. You're a reindeer. You should know this." Zoro offers, trying to rescue this brilliant young mind from falling prey to the hoax.
The little doctor gasps in shock. The blond covers the boy's ears and sends Zoro a death glare that says not another word.
"Don't mind him, buddy. He's just sulking because he's too old for Santa's gifts." The cook ruffles Chopper's hair. When the boy still looks unsure, he takes a deep breath and lies some more.
"See, Santa comes through the chimney. That's why the floor around the fireplace is always dirty on Christmas morning. You know I would never do that to my clothes, right? Besides, I don't allow midnight snacks, so Santa's the only one who could've finished the milk and cookies every year."
The little doctor heaves a big sigh of relief. Zoro rolls his eyes in disapproval at the blond, and the blond just beams.
Then there's the lights. They're the closest things Zoro can think of to a witch'es spell. They seem to suck out his soul if he stares too much. The dimmer they are, and the simpler their flash patterns, the more powerful they seem to be. The basic white ones that don't flash at all can easily keep him dazed for hours. The carols aren't much better. They eat away at the swordsman's mind until he can think of nothing else but snowy little towns and stars and bells and hope, even when they're not playing anymore. The day the cook puts up the decorations and turns on the music is the day Zoro starts locking himself in his soundproof meditation room.
"You know..." The cook watches with half amusement and half contemplation as Zoro tries to shove his food down as quickly as possible so that he can return to his sanctuary, "you're allowed to enjoy them."
The swordsman gives Sanji a questioning look between bites, and the blond gestures to what's behind him. The tree. He knows without looking because he always sits with his back to it so he doesn't have to look at the damn thing while he eats. Zoro decides to continue chewing.
"Not all good things are out to get you, idiot" The cook takes a draw from his cigarette, its scent calming the swordsman as well. "You're allowed to indulge a little too. It's what the season is for."
Zoro feels the corners of his mouth pulling down. His throat tightens, making it rather difficult to swallow the masterpiece known as Sanji's cooking.
The worst is the get-together on the eve, which Luffy insists on making a sleepover every year. It's not like the strawhats ever miss out on an excuse to party, and Zoro never feels this dread on any other day around the year. But somehow the combination of the date on the calendar and the noise from the crowd never fails to give him the illusion that this joy he sees is but a fleeting moment, that this might just be their last. The swordsman sits in his corner with his booze as always, listening from afar to the impromptu concert by Brook and Franky and the tall tales from Usopp, watching the boys' silly dance and the blond buzzing around the girls with desserts. He takes a gulp, swallowing with it the urge to freeze time, to somehow preserve this moment. But he knows the harder he tries to cling on, the harder it would be when it comes to an end. No one can stop the flow of time.
Zoro is the loneliest on this day each year, with his favourite people right there before his eyes.
"I understand that it may feel that way at times," Robin's voice whispers in his ears, startling him out of his thoughts, "but they won't disappear after this."
Zoro waves away the replica mouth on the wall beside him and finds the damn woman sitting in her own corner across the room, pretending to be reading a book. A faint smile plays on her lips.
"I know that." He mutters to himself.
As it always happens, the party dies down shortly after midnight when the rowdiest members of the group pass out from exhaustion. Zoro decides to take the cook's advice to indulge a little, moving his seat in front of the tree, right by where Chopper lies asleep beside the pile of gifts. He matches his breaths to the soft snoring from the little doctor and lets his soul be lost in the warmth of the dimly glowing lights. He plunges in, submerging himself in the flow of time instead of trying to stop it. Before long, a stray teardrop finds its way down the side of his cheek.
"You can be happy now. It won't make you less happy later." The cook takes a seat beside him and ruffles his hair, the way he ruffled Chopper's before. "Happiness doesn't run out like that."
Zoro reaches over and pulls the blond head in for a kiss.
"The mistletoe's over there."
"It moved." The swordsman shrugs, planting another kiss before he can get a smartass reply.