#Zoro’s the bassist of the band | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

your-iron-lung · 7 years

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Mixed Up 18 | Do You Feel It? |

Chapter Word Count: 3232

Pairings: Zoro/Sanji

Genre: Comedy, Drama, Romance

Chapter Warning: Strong Language

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 , 17

Next Chapter: 19

Sanji didn’t know what to think.

Nearly every song that he listened to off of Zoro’s mixtape sounded exactly the same to him.

A few of them stood out as being distinct, but when he loaded the cd onto his laptop and opened it with his media player, none of the tracks were labeled. None of the artists were, either. Every song he tabbed through was by Unknown Artist off of an Unknown album.

Initially impressed by Zoro coming through on his word to supplement him with music, Sanji ended up becoming more annoyed than impressed when he realized Zoro had neglected to embed any specifics in his recommendations.

How was he supposed to ‘pick out something he liked’ if he didn’t know what it was he liked?

Even when Zoro was trying to help, he was, ultimately, rather unhelpful.

Sanji ended up having to jot down a few of the lyrics he could understand from the songs he did like and run them through Google to get the information Zoro had neglected to provide. He was bemused to find that one of them was by the Tralalaws; he was sure that would make Zoro angry somehow.

From there it was unclear to him what it was that kept him on Google, but Sanji spent the rest of his evening waiting for Nami to get in contact with him on the internet. He knew he should have been practicing, but the thought of touching Zoro’s guitar at the moment made him uncomfortable.

He started his night of internet searches with the Tralalaws, hoping to gain some more insight into the band Nami had invited him to see with them.

They had a website, but when he clicked on it, he couldn’t find any information about them that seemed relevant to him. Not that he knew what exactly it was he was looking for, but their website didn’t have whatever it was.

Wikipedia did, though.

‘The Tralalaws are a punk rock band formed by singer/lyricist/guitarist Trafalgar Law along with bassist Bepo, drummer ‘Penguin’, and guitarist Shachi.’

There was a picture of the band together on stage, and Sanji couldn’t help but notice how sickly the singer, Law, seemed to appear. More than anything, though, he appeared pissed off. The man’s eyes were full of a burning hatred that scathed him even though Sanji was merely looking at a picture of him.

He could hardly begin to imagine what he’d be like when they saw him live.

Sanji kept reading.

Career

‘The Tralalaws first album was described as the sound of a “violent, overblown and irreverent” punk band in a positive review in Pitchfork. The band then went on extensive tours of the East and North Blue continents to promote their album with The Mugiwara Menace, who performed as their opening act.’

Mugiwara Menace.

Sanji paused; wasn’t that the name of Zoro’s band?

He clicked the hyperlink and was greeted with a picture of Zoro’s angry face howling into a microphone to confirm that it was.

He’d found what he’d been subconsciously looking for.

‘The Mugiwara Menace were a punk rock band formed by guitarist/front man Monkey D. Luffy, bassist/singer/lyrcist/guitarist Roronoa Zoro, and drummer/backing vocals Nami.’

Were.

Nami had mentioned once somewhere before that they were no longer active as a group, but hadn’t supplied a reason as to why that was.

Sanji suddenly felt like he was sticking his nose into something he shouldn’t be, as though their history together as musicians was something private he ought to leave alone. Then again, it was on Wikipedia. It was public information he had every right to access; after all, none of them had ever told him explicitly not to snoop around.

Under their career section, he noticed that they’d put out a number of albums together before they disbanded, when something about one of them caught his eye.

‘The Mugiwara Menace’s full-length debut, Sink or Swim, despite gaining little attention from major critics, was well met with strong reception from independent critics. Dubbed by fans as the ‘Kuina album’, Sink or Swim gained positive reviews from Absolutepunk.net, citing singer Roronoa Zoro for having a “talent for creating lyrics and melodies that are simple and catchy, yet never forced or unintelligent.”

There was a name Sanji hadn’t seen before: Kuina. He had no idea what it meant for Zoro’s fans to call their debut album the ‘Kuina album’, but the name didn’t have a hyperlink affixed to it.

Contemplating quietly on the matter, he opened up a new browser tab to see what other internet sources might have to say.

Google didn’t help much when he searched for the name ‘Kuina’, but when he searched for Sink or Swim, it provided him with a Youtube link to the full album.

Without hesitation, he clicked it.

As the music began to play in his apartment, he sat back against the comforting cushions of his couch and focused on what he was listening to.

“I took a drive today; I thought about you. I thought about a friend who passed, and how much we just went through.”

The first thing Sanji noticed was how different this music sounded than from what he’d listened to previously on their Soundcloud. That had been uplifting and jaunty; complete with violin and more whimsical, almost tropical sounds. This was harder, heavier, and carried with it a more obvious punk sound. Zoro’s voice was gruff and almost hoarse, but it was his and it fit with the sounds they created.

“And if you’re scared of the future tonight, we’ll just take it each hour one at a time. It’s a pretty good night for a drive, so dry up those eyes, dry up those eyes.”

If Zoro really was the sole lyricist, then Sanji had to admit that he did have a knack for writing compelling lyrics. There was a lot of emotion in them; emotion that Sanji wanted to know the source of. From what little he knew of Zoro, this level of depth and complexity almost seemed to go against his character.

He sat forward again and began to scroll down some of the comments fans had left under the video.

‘This album is so good!

‘I know this is the kuina ALBUM, but whats the kuina SONG again??’

Bartolomeo: ’59 sound! If u were a TRUE mugiwara fan u would have known that!! Filthy casual

Sanji took note of this comment and paused the video to see if the songs were labeled somehow.

Thankfully, they were, but the song mentioned in the comments didn’t appear to be on this album. He resumed the video regardless, letting the music surround him once again.

”Because the radio will still play loud, the songs that we heard as our guards came down. Like in the summertime when we first met, I’ll never forget, and don’t you forget: these nights are still ours.”

‘the kuina song is good but does any1 have a link to the tashigi song? My fave and I cant find it anymore!’

Roronoa Zoro: don’t call it that.

Sanji’s eyebrows rose up when he saw that Zoro had actually replied to one of the comments. The comment thread had been made two years ago, but the fact that Zoro apparently even knew how to comment wasn’t what interested him; it was the fact that he’d bothered to comment at all that was interesting.

Expanding the thread, he saw that several people had provided the original commenter with a link. Some of the comments said that the band had taken the song down because of its affiliation with whoever ‘Tashigi’ was, and that Zoro didn’t want that association between them to exist. Fans still seemed to call it that regardless, though.

He clicked on a few of the links he saw, but a lot of them were dead. He’d have to remember to look into that later, however; he already had a lot he wanted to research that he needed to check out first.

“And I’m burning up the night she died; I’m putting every last picture aside. I’m gonna say what I need to say in my very last letter to you.”

Tabbing back into Wikipedia, Sanji continued to let the album play out as he navigated back to the bit about their first album.

‘Roronoa Zoro was given free reign as far as subject matter was concerned when writing Sink or Swim. It was theorized that Monkey D. Luffy gave him full creative control so Zoro would join the band, as he was more interested in working as a solo artist at the time. The album was created as a tribute to the singer’s late childhood friend Kuina, though he continued to write other songs about her later on in their career.’

Well, that was sad. Sanji wasn’t sure what to think about it, but was inwardly glad that it signaled Zoro’s ability to feel deep and long-lasting emotions. Not that that was what he wanted from him, but, it was nice to know.

Just in case.

“But I- I wish you knew her now; she’s a better side of me now, and I’m doing the best I can. It’s what you wanted.”

Sighing, Sanji checked his phone to see if perhaps he had missed any calls or texts from Nami, but saw that there were none. He didn’t want to bother her with his problems, but she had offered to at least listen to them. How much longer would he have to wait for her to get in contact with him?

Then again, she was probably enjoying herself too much to bother with him at the moment, anyway. Which was fine, of course; she had her own life to live without getting too involved in his.

“And the reasons always fade, and the pain gets out some day. So I’m saying my goodbyes to your deep blue eyes ‘cause I don’t know how to say, ‘Stay still in the pain. Stay still in the pain’.”

Switching back to the Youtube host of their album, he closed it without letting the album finished. Sanji no longer felt comfortable listening to something Zoro had created that was so personal to him, regardless of whatever public platform he’d chosen to put his feelings into. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, rubbing his forehead for a moment before he went and looked through some more of the comments fans had left on the video.

‘This was my first exposure to the band. I gotta say it isn’t really my favourite, but I can respect their sound. The vocals are REALLY rough, but the songwriting is good. The sound is not too hardcore, and it reminds me of late 80s/90s punk. I liked that not all the songs sound the same, since that is usually a problem in this genre. There is obvious musical talent in the band, but the vocals turned me off.’

Sanji laughed out loud as he read the review, equal parts relieved that he wasn’t the only one who was struggling with the fact that all punk music seemed to sound the same, and humored that the guy took issue with Zoro’s singing.

When he clicked the thread, a bunch of fans came to Zoro’s defense, arguing against the original commenter and trying to change his opinion. That was alright; it was good to know that he had a loyal fanbase that supported both him and the band he was creating for.

He let his laughter die off when one of his fans suggest that the original commenter take a look at Zoro’s personal Youtube page.

‘its different from the stuff he records with the mugiwaras. A lot of it is acoustic so u might like it better’

“Fuck,” Sanji muttered.

He didn’t want to pry any more than he already had, but the temptation to see what sort of content Zoro would be recording on his own was too great. Against his better judgement, he followed the link and was directed to Zoro’s personal Youtube page.

The profile itself was blank. There was no ‘About’ information filled in, and the last video that had been uploaded had been done roughly three years ago. He had tons of uploads that spanned over the many years he’d been actively uploading, each of them garnering over 40,000 views, which, in and of itself was impressive.

Sanji knew he was digging too deep into Zoro’s history; if he’d found out that Zoro or anyone else was doing the same to him, he would’ve been pissed. As he scrolled through the thumbnail previews, he couldn’t stop himself from clicking on at least one of the older videos.

True to the comment that had directed him here, the video only featured Zoro sitting on the edge of his bed with the camera focused on the acoustic guitar in his hands. His face wasn’t visible from the way he’d set it up, as he’d obviously wanted the primary focus to be more on the music than him.

“Well I wonder which song they’re gonna play when we go; I hope it’s something quiet and minor and peaceful and slow.”

His voice was a lot softer in this recording. It wasn’t gruff or coarse like it was when he sang with the Mugiwaras, and clashed with what Sanji knew about his rough nature. This was, as the opening lyric had suggested, a quiet song. A respectful song.

“And I wonder, were you scared when the metal hit the glass? See, I was playing a show down the road when your spirit left your body.”

A chill coursed through Sanji that made the hair on his arms stand up when he heard this lyric. He quickly checked to see what song it was he’d decided to click on and discovered that he’d landed upon an acoustic recording of The ’59 Sound.

The Kuina song.

“And they told me on the front lawn; I’m sorry I couldn’t go. But I still know the song and the words and her name and the reasons. And I know ‘cause we were kids and we used to hang.”

He was too invested in it now to close out of it. If anything, he felt it would be disrespectful to her memory if he did at this point.

“Did you hear the old gospel choir when they came to carry you over? Did you hear your favourite song one last time?”

Zoro’s prowess with the guitar was highlighted with the way he had the camera fixed. It focused solely upon the guitar, and the way his fingers ran across the fretboard to pick out the chords he needed was impressive to his untrained eye.

Sanji ignored the way Zoro’s voice shook when he reached the chorus.

“Young boys, young girls. Young boys, young girls. Well, you ain’t supposed to die on a Saturday night, ain’t supposed to die on a Saturday night; you ain’t supposed to leave my life.”

The rest of the song progressed along the same lines, repeating the chorus a few times before Zoro eventually slowed down until the song was finished. He stood up in the recording to turn the camera off, and then Sanji was left staring into the reflection the dark screen provided.

Feeling as though he’d done enough digging around into Zoro’s life for the night, Sanji shut his laptop down and then closed it. He set it aside on the coffee table and then stood up to stretch, deciding he really needed a cigarette.

He walked to the window that looked out onto the parking lot to make sure Zoro and Chopper weren’t out there before he went to put on his coat and step outside of his apartment.

It was dark out, but he wandered over to where a street light cast a bright light on the sidewalk before he lit up. He inhaled the smoke deeply, feeling the awful relief it provided him flood his body. In an instant, he was much calmer than he had been.

There was a lot he still didn’t know about Zoro, and of course he wanted to know all he could about the man, but in moderation, and at his own pace, and with Nami’s help.

As he exhaled the smoke he’d been holding in, he glanced at his car. He cast all his guilt and blame upon it, for it was, after all, the leading cause of how he’d become mixed up with Zoro in the first place.

“Goddamned Saturdays,” he muttered, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette.

A vibration in his pocket stirred him out of his thoughts, but when he pulled his phone out of his pocket, thinking it was Nami finally calling him, he frowned when he saw that it was Zeff instead.

He hesitated in answering, frowning at the shitty picture he had for Zeff’s contact as it appeared on the screen.

What the hell could the old man possibly want from him?

“What, calling to beg me to take my job back already?” Sanji said in lieu of a greeting as he answered the call. “It’s only been a week, shitty old man; don’t tell me the Baratie went down without me.”

He heard Zeff grunt, dismissing his insults easily without addressing them.

“No, you ungrateful little shit. You break your dumbass curse yet?”

“You’re actually calling to check up on me? I’m flattered,” he replied, taking a deep drag off his cigarette. “It’s also none of your goddamned business.”

“I’ll take that as a no,” Zeff said. Sanji bristled. “You get a hobby then?”

He wasn’t sure why, but the question made him hesitate. Technically, yes, he had picked up a new hobby in the week he’d been out of work, but it felt weird to claim it as his own. Sanji really only felt like he was borrowing it off of Zoro, like he wasn’t really putting himself into it, but was instead only doing it because Zoro liked it.

“I guess,” he ended up saying. The faux attitude he usually used when speaking with Zeff dropped from his tone. When he replied, he spoke quieter. “I made some friends.”

“Huh. That’s good. I been telling you to do that for years.”

“Fuck you,” he said, but there was no actual anger in his voice.

“Uh-huh. See you in three weeks, eggplant.”

Sanji pulled the phone away from his ear as Zeff hung up and returned it to his pocket. He absently wondered what Zeff would think of him if he knew the entirety of his situation.

“Probably wouldn’t give a shit,” Sanji said with a sigh. He knew he wouldn’t; it was only himself that was taking issue with it.

He kept on standing there smoking until he reached the filter. Casting it to the sidewalk, he stepped on it to ground out the ember before picking the butt up to throw away.

He wished that phone call had been from Nami, but Sanji knew that if she didn’t end up calling him tonight, then she’d likely do so first thing tomorrow. With another withered sigh he returned to his apartment and got ready to lay down. After all, he had to be well-rested in order to tackle the conversation he was going to have with Nami the next day.

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