[Zoro absorbs the entire explanation in silence, his eye completely trained on Sanji now, though he shifts his gaze from his face down to his hands and back, for some reason, just sort of studying him. It all fits, now, the sense of obligation in particular. But where he shouldered the burden up until the moment when that burden might have meant his death by a Marine firing squad, the cook seemed to have been more stubborn than he. Wonder of wonders. But Zoro gets it, now, and accepts without argument.]

Yeah, well. I ain't gonna let you give that up for anything. Just so you know. Goes both ways.

[he can't help but roll his eye right back, because once a pervert, always a pervert, even with extenuating circumstances.]

Yeah, uh huh, and you just couldn't control yourself.

[He can't talk, he got actually wasted twice on Fishman Island thanks to Mihawk's prohibition. Hmm, did the cook see that part of his memory?

Something's going on, here, between them, something they haven't managed since before Little Garden. They're talking. Bonding. It's like that night the other week when they went to dinner and got through it without anything resembling a fight. Zoro backed off, then, letting it simmer, but something in his chest is pushing him not to back off, this time. He's never treated Sanji with the same affections he affords the younger guys in the crew, barely a back-pat here and there, so he drops his gaze to his own hand, willing it to come up with an idea and act on it. After a long pause to try to come up with something, he just knocks against Sanji's knee again, and this time lets it linger a few seconds too long.]