"I am out of here! Leaving! There's nothing you can say to make me change my mind!" Perona yelled, standing at the castle's entrance and addressing the large, empty halls. She had a bag slung across her shoulder, she was holding her umbrella up and she was waving her Bearsy doll around to punctuate her words.

She was lying, of course. This was only about the third time she'd done this.

Zoro reached the entrance just as she was turning around and muttering angrily to herself.

"Get back inside," Zoro said, standing with his arms crossed at the edge of the staircase.

"No!" She shouted back and kept going down the road. Her boot slipped on a rock and she wobbled, nearly falling. Quickly regaining her composure, she shot a furtive glance at the swordsman. The fact that he was unsympathetic of her near-accident only angered her more and she made a bigger show of walking away.

Zoro rolled his eyes, wondering once again why he ended up at the same place as her, of all people. He understood how convenient it was to arrive at the home of the man he'd sworn to defeat and who for now was his teacher, but her? What was the damn point?

Still, he uncrossed his arms and as per usual started going down the stairs.

Perona was just looking for attention. When he caught up to her she would start ranting about having to do all the work, about being ordered around by Mihawk, about how she wasn't a servant- she was the one who was supposed to be served by cute creatures while enjoying the dark, sinister atmosphere! Now she had to play doctor and cook and seamstress and a whole lot of other types of work.

So when he reached her he cut to the point and said, "You're not a servant,"

She huffed.

"I don't think you're a servant. I don't have servants."

His words made her slow down. She was still frowning, but she'd gotten what she wanted to hear.

"I'm still leaving," she said.

No, she wasn't. Zoro said nothing; he just scratched around the bandage that covered most of his shoulder. It was just the newest wound he had gotten during his training, and he would get a new one before this one was properly healed. Probably tomorrow, or even later that day.

Perona tried to ignore him and keep going, but out of the corner of her eye she saw how Zoro loosened the bandages to scratch closer to the actual wound. "Don't do that!" she slapped Zoro's hand away.

Zoro groaned in protest, but she paid him no mind and stopped to readjust the bandages.
She was no doctor; she just knew how to patch things up, and it used to be that those things were dead. She'd never sewed and mended to keep something alive.

What would you idiot do if I wasn't here? She wanted to ask (while knocking him over the head) but she'd done it a thousand times already. He hadn't answered at first, and eventually settled for grumbling something like 'bleed to death'. That Mihawk wasn't going to heal him any better than her, after all. Would he even bother? She doubted it.

Once she'd refastened the bandages, she slapped his chest lightly and then sighed.

"Hey," Zoro spoke, taking the hand she'd let linger on his shoulder by the wrist. With a little strain, he muttered, "Uh, thanks," choosing to frown at nothing instead of looking at her.

Perona blinked, looking up at his face. Her tantrum suddenly forgotten, a large grin appeared on her lips. She grabbed his hand and started their way back to the castle. It wasn't that he'd never thanked her before. "Haha! And I didn't even have to ask this time!"

"You don't ask, you force me to say it with your damn hollows!"

"Details, details…" she waved the thought away, holding his hand firmly as she dragged him back. Zoro grimaced at her and she didn't notice, much too proud of herself. Once again he wondered why the hell he humored her so much.