You had a plan, there was a plan. You needed to remember the plan. You needed to move. You needed to move when you had seen the knob turn, but now you really needed to move.

But you couldn't. Fear had rooted you in place, you could barely breathe.

The knob turned slowly.

The door shifted, but it hit the deadbolt and didn't go any further.

The silence was more terrifying than anything else. You don't know how long it was before you could hear those scratching sounds again, this time from the deadbolt. Deadbolts were heavy, they were hard to pick, now was your chance.

You knew what was happening, but your mouth moved against the odds.

"Zoro?"

The scratching sounds stopped.

"Zoro is that you? Did you get lost?" You call out louder this time, sitting up in the recliner and pulling yourself up to look out the peephole. It was completely dark. The apartment halls were lit, for it to be so dark meant that someone, or something, was covering it.

You scramble off the recliner, there's nothing slowing you down now, and you grab a knife from the kitchen and grab your phone. You dial Zoro's number and it starts to ring just as there's a loud THUD!

The door shudders, and the recliner shifts, you scream from the sound and nearly drop the knife.

There's a click from the phone and you hear Zoro speak groggily through it. You didn't get to notice what the time was in your haste.

"Z-zoro!" You're almost crying and there's another heavy THUD! From the door causing you to scream again before you continue. "Someone's trying to break in!"

"Call the police, I'm on my way."

The line goes dead and you're staring at your phone. Right, the police. You needed to call the police. The police can help, and you're not in any state to defend yourself correctly.

There's another loud THUD and this time there's a CRACK that accompanies it. You scream again, dropping the phone and you just keep screaming, one random piece of advice coming into your mind and so you take a deep breath and bellow.

"FIRE! FIRE! HELP! FIRE! THERE'S A FIRE! SOMEONE HELP!" You scream louder than you've ever screamed before. Your intent was to wake up everyone in the apartment complex if that's what it took.

You don't know if the person trying to get in had simply decided to give up, or if your screaming was the last straw that had sent them running. The door had stopped shuddering and after a few long, gut-churning moments you turn on the lights in your apartment.

The frame was obviously split, which was reassuring. It was comforting, in a way, to know you hadn't just been dreaming lucidly and had completely lost your mind. You move the recliner without thinking, but even as you dragged it backward no one tried to force their way through the door. You could see the lights in the hallway and there were sounds of people milling around, asking one another if everything was okay.

The upside to being one of the quietest tenants was that no one was barging into your space and giving you hell for making a ruckus. The downside was that no one seemed to even notice your door was busted in. For all you knew, your neighbors thought your apartment was empty.

There was a sharp pain in your foot that caused you to hiss as you stepped on the knife while tugging on the recliner. The blade caused your foot to slip on top of biting into your skin and you fell back with a thud and a grunt.

You lay on the floor and cry in frustration for a moment before sitting up to look at your foot. The cut went almost right down the middle of it. It was so perfectly aligned you couldn't help but laugh. The laugh devolved into tears, and you fell back into sobbing again.

"(Y/N)?" Zoro's voice reaches your ears. You looked up over the recliner to see him looking through the cracked opening of your door.

"I'm here." You call out, trying not to sound like you've just been sobbing. "Give me a moment and I can get the door."

There was a soft crack and the door creaks open. "It's fine." He says, sounding apologetic as he steps in. He looks around, before looking at you by peeking over the recliner.

"What happened?"

"I'm not really sure," you admit, tears welling up in your eyes again. "I w-woke up to the kn-knob turning and then..." You gesture around to the whole door.

"Are the police on the way?" He asks, stepping around the recliner.

"No, I-."

"Your foot." Zoro's voice had a dangerous edge to it and his expression hardened.

"I'm- I'm fine." You insist.

"That's too much blood." He says, taking off his shirt.

"Wa-wait! There's a first aid kit in the bathroom! Don't rip your-!" Riiiiiiiiip. Too late. "Ah, your shirt."

"It's fine. Sit."

You sit down, offering up your injured foot without another word.

"We'll get it looked at properly, but I want to stop the bleeding first." Zoro focuses on binding your foot, pulling out his phone and pressing a few buttons before someone answers.

"Yeah, I need to report an attempted break-in. Little Garden apartments, unit 274." Zoro spoke evenly and calmly while he was taking care of your foot. "No, I'm not the resident, it's (F/N)(L/N), she's my match." There was a moment of silence. "We had our first meeting yesterday, but I think tonight is going to accelerate that, yes... Alright, thanks."

Zoro hangs up the phone and looks away from your foot to you. You were a small disaster. Your face was swollen from crying, you were hoarse from screaming, and your foot had bled so bad that you had smears of blood on your pants and hands from trying to deal with it.

"Tell me what happened." He says, drawing your attention, sitting down across from you. "You locked up after I left, then what?"

"I... felt nervous. I checked all the windows to make sure they were locked, and then I pulled the recliner over to the door to barricade it. I thought, if I slept in it, it would be harder to move, and... and if someone tried to come in through the door, I'd have time to call you and protect myself." Given how things had gone you felt yourself go red with embarrassment. You hadn't protected yourself at all. "I didn't sleep well, kept having nightmares. I woke up and was repositioning myself in the recliner when I saw the knob shift. Then I heard this scratching, and the lock popped.

"I... I called out your name. I thought... no, I hoped you had gotten lost and had just wandered back to my apartment." You start shaking. "It wasn't you... it... it was..." You swallow, your vision shimmering as tears well up again. "I called you after that."

Zoro puts a hand on your leg, just above your ankle. His gaze catches yours, and his face is softer than you've seen so far. He's not mad at you, or frustrated, and you feel the shaking subside a little.

"What happened to your foot?" He questions, urging you to continue.

You bark a laugh and look away, wiping your face. "I had grabbed it for defense, but something slammed into the door again and there was a crack and... I thought the door had shattered. I think I dropped the knife and the phone at the same time. I just started screaming about there being a fire, trying to wake up enough people to make whoever was outside go away."

"At some point you stepped on it." Zoro sighs as you nod and he leans back, tension leaving his body. "No one got in then."

You shake your head. "Jus-just you."

Silence falls between you for a moment. Your mind is calming down a little and the events of the evening replay whether you want them to or not. What sticks in your mind was how fast Zoro got here after you called. It was only 11 or so kilometers, but even so he had to have driven.

"You didn't get lost."

Zoro flinches and clicks his tongue in irritation, but it fades away quickly. "I didn't."

"B-but you do, don't you?" A smile bubbles up in you and you nearly laugh when his face scrunches up in response. "I'm sorry," you giggle despite it all, but the expression on his face is so perfectly split between aggravation and embarrassment. "Sorry, I just... I'm glad you didn't get lost."

He grunts, and it makes you smile again. Your foot hurts, your butt hurts from falling, and you can feel the soreness rippling out into your back and legs. The whole tense situation would've had you sore the next day, even if you hadn't cut your foot and slipped.

You shake your head lightly and look around, trying to get your thoughts to focus on something else. After a moment you break the silence.

"You're so calm." You murmur, realizing that you're focused on him to keep the night from replaying in your head. He's physically fit, but you knew that from the Match Book. The scar on his chest crosses his torso and goes all the way to his waist. It's even more impressive that he survived it, seeing it up close like this. "How?"

Your mind had shifted without your words following. You meant to ask how he got the scar, but you realize he's answering on why he's so calm.

"I volunteer with EMT services." He explains. "It's easier to keep my CPR credentials up to date, and it means I can respond to emergencies at the dojo effectively." He stands, going over to the door and looking out over the property. You can see the flicker of oscillating lights fall across him.

"They're here." He looks back to you. "Hospital or not?"

"If it can be avoided that would be best," you admit with a strained smile. "But if there's no avoiding it, I'll just have to be okay with that."

Zoro grunts.

He took control of the entire situation. He coordinated with the police that had arrived, and helped you get through your statement about what happened. He knew one of the EMTs and the two went back and forth on your foot for a bit before they agreed on leaving you here. He gathered up some clothes for you, with a little direction from you on what to choose. You'd had a moment of embarrassment at the idea of him in your underwear drawer, but he wouldn't let you stand up, so you had to deal with it.

He gathered up your wallet and keys, and some other odds and ends at your behest, and packed it all into a small suitcase and a backpack you had. By the time he was done the EMTs had left, and most of the police as well. There was an officer posted at your broken doorway, and he assured you that they'd keep watch until the building replaced the door.

"I'm going to take these to the car." Zoro explains, carrying your suitcase and backpack. He looks down at you with a glare that would be terrifying if you didn't know him, and is sufficiently intimidating even though you're pretty sure you do know him. "Don't. Move. If your foot splits and bleeds you're going to the hospital. I'll be back to get you."

You nod, making yourself as comfortable as you can be, sitting on your hard floor. Clothes covered in blood stains. Your Match's torn and bloody shirt on the floor nearby. The EMTs had cleaned up your skin and rebandaged your foot, but there was still chaos all around.

When Zoro returned, he was wearing a rumpled dark blue A-Shirt. He bent down, had you put your arms around his neck, and lifted you up off the floor. He barely got you out the door and you started laughing. Your laughing turned to tears again and he didn't say anything. It was less about the stress of the night, and more about the absurdity of it all.

You had met your Match by accident at work, rudely interrupting him before he could even read his own book. Then you had your formal meeting the next day and continued the awkwardness by having a big philosophical difference of opinion about martial arts – one of, if not the only, real shared interest between the two of you. To top it all off you had someone try to break into your apartment and called him at the-gods-only-knew what hour of the early morning, and now you were being bridal carried into his car.

He stood outside his car, letting you cry until you calmed down on your own before he shifted you enough to open the door.

It was an older model Chevy Impala, such a deep dark green that you were sure it was black in the soft light of pre-dawn. He set you inside gently, taking care to mind your foot. You managed a quiet, hoarse, thank you as he buckled you in, and got a soft grunt in response.

The old muscle car roars into life and Zoro drives you away from your home, and back to the dojo. Halfway there you laugh, less manic than earlier and manage to share the thought that had popped into your head.

"Well," you start, hoarse voice more energetic than it's been in hours. "I suppose I won't be late for breakfast." Your rough chuckle feels like relief, and you're glad you can bring some levity into your mind before you have to face Mihawk.

Out of the corner of your eye you're pretty sure you catch Zoro smiling.