Imagines III | ZoLu 🥀🔥

Class Fight | 8 🤛

"Finally! What the hell took you so long?" A tall, purple haired man with a set of boxing gloves wrapped around his neck asked, storming into their apartment.

Aside from the red boxing gloves that were hanging on either end of his shoulders, the man had a snake tattooed across his neck and additional tattoos inked permanently on his skin.

"Man, I'm starving..." His stomach rumbled while he placed his gloves aside, looking down at the floor.

"Why is the floor covered in blood? What happened!?" He questioned his younger brother, looking over at the Swordsman who was gulping.

"I was-" Not even two seconds into forming a sentence, Zoro was interrupted.

"You? Don't tell me you did something." Jiro started to laugh, pointing at Zoro's swords.

"These things are for a 'man' to handle. The way you use them reminds me of how girls play with their 'Barbie dolls'. There's no way you-"

"What if I did? What if I used these swords against someone today?" Zoro retaliated against his older brother, growing annoyed by his teasing.

"Unless there's physical evidence, then I won't believe you." His response lead Zoro to feel confused.

"Physical evidence? Yeah?" He chuckled at the older man.

"Like what? A rotting corpse?" His voice unintentionally stuttered at the last minute. This slip up of his gave way for Jiro to take advantage of Zoro's vulnerability.

Oppose to walking to the kitchen to warm up his lunch, the darker haired man smirked at his brother, grabbing onto his arm which appeared to be wrapped in a white bandage.

Zoro's eyes widened after feeling the bandage starting to slip off of his skin.

He failed in being able to keep it around his arm because of his brother who had ripped it off of him.

Blood started to stream down to his elbow after Jiro exposed the large slash he had on his upper arm.

"And you call yourself a Swordsman when you're getting cuts like these? You're too weak to handle swords, stick to kitchen knives instead." This statement and his actions towards Zoro was making the hot-headed teen feel agitated.

"Worry about your own profession, Jiro. Leave mine alone, you have no business with it." He declared, glaring at the man with a dangerous look centered in his eyes.

"Being a stinkin' Swordsman won't get you anywhere, dumbass! If you would listen to me and stop hanging around with those gay scumbags, then maybe you'd be in a better place."

"Like what? A fighting ring, boxing against paid MMA fighters just for laughs? That's your dream, not mine."

Insulting each others professions was cooking up a heated fight in between the two hardheaded siblings that struggled to come to an agreement without starting a bigger argument.

"Being a wrestler is a manly profession which could take you to places. Big places!! Unlike kicking ass for free on the streets. That's why I want you to join me. If you're gonna kick ass, get paid for it."

Jiro boldly stated, shutting the fridge while popping a plate into the microwave to warm up his food.

"You can fight for money 'til you drop dead for all I care. But that's not me. I rather follow my own dream, not yours." Denying his brother's request in becoming a professional wrestler was a part of Zoro's daily routine by now.

A peaceful conversation was never an option for either one of them, and the one to start an argument was always Jiro.

"It's not all about money, it's about recognition. Something I've gained all on my own with each fight I've won. And I'm not even a professional yet!" He proudly admitted.

"Boxing is your specialty, mine is handling swords." Turning away from his brother, Zoro began to walk down the hallway.

"See? SEE? This is why you never make mom and dad proud, you'll always be a fucking disappointment if you keep playing with toys."

Following behind Zoro's footsteps, Jiro stopped walking when the younger man did. There, they stood facing each other with a dense atmosphere circulating around them.

Suddenly, a loud bang emitted from a door Zoro was standing behind, startling both him and his brother.

"Are you hiding someone in there, you piece of crap? Who is it!" Jiro grinned, walking closer towards the door as the banging grew louder.

Zoro started to sweat, feeling his heartbeat starting to accelerate.

"I've been nervous ever since Jiro got here, even though I'm already used to arguing with him. So, if I'm not stressed out about him," His ears rang at the sound of the door being pounded against even louder.

"Could it be that... I don't want him to find Luffy?" By the time the Swordsman realized this, it was already too late, Jiro had opened the door to his bedroom.

"Y...you..." Jiro's mouth hung open, viewing the mess there was in Zoro's bedroom.

On the bed he could see a pair of towels scattered throughout different parts of the sheets.

Tripping over an unfamiliar looking object that was lying on the floor, Jiro's eyes landed on a torn, bloodied school uniform.

"This isn't yours." Zoro felt even worse than before when the older man held up a broken jacket to his face.

"That's because it belongs to the man I defeated earlier today." The Swordsman spoke at an attempt to make it look like he was truly in a big fight.

But his older brother wasn't buying that excuse of his one bit.

"Man? You think a real man would wear kiddish clothing like this?" Jiro took a step further into the bedroom, finding more suspicious things along the way.

Keeping a close eye on him, the Swordsman felt trapped.

"Luffy, where could you be... All Hell will break loose if Jiro finds you here." A short gasp silently left his lips when his brother held something in his hands, walking closely towards him.

Each step he would take was leaving Zoro with a limited amount of time to figure out what to do with Luffy, wondering where the teen could even be.

His best guess was the closet, since that's where he told him to hide, prior to letting Jiro in the apartment.

"Let me ask you a question, Roronoa." Zoro narrowed his eyebrows at Jiro, realizing what he was holding in his hands.

"Did you fight with your opponent? Or did you fuck them..." Following his question, Jiro held up a familiar looking bottle he found lying on top of the bed.

"I'm so screwed..."

~~~