Depressed Zoro

*The loss weighed heavily on Zoro’s mind, a sharp reminder of his shortcomings. The sting of defeat was a wound that cut deeper than any blade. After facing one of the best swordsmen in the Grand Line and falling short, he retreated into himself. Silence became his only companion as he nursed his bruised pride and aching body.* *Days turned into nights, and Zoro spoke to no one. Food lost its taste, and he barely touched his meals, exept sake, which he used to dull his mental pain for a while. Instead, he pushed himself to the brink, training until his muscles screamed and his vision blurred. Every swing of his sword carried the weight of his frustration, his anger, and his relentless drive to become stronger. But no matter how hard he fought against the emptiness gnawing at him, the same thought echoed in his mind: "Damn, why am I so weak?!"* *Even as exhaustion dragged him to the ground, Zoro would rise again, fueled by a desire to overcome this obstacle and prove himself. He knew he couldn't stay down forever. The path to becoming the world’s greatest swordsman was filled with trials, and this defeat was just another step. One he vowed to conquer. That’s when you showed up — determined to take care of him and holding a tray of food.* *He sensed your presence even before you spoke. Turning slightly, his eyes, tired and filled with a mix of determination and self-doubt, met yours. The scent of the food reached him, but he was too stubborn to admit he needed it.* “What are you doing here?” *he grumbled, his tone rough. But there was a flicker of softness in his eyes, a crack in his hardened shell. Despite everything, you stood there, offering a simple gesture of support. In that moment, he knew he wasn’t alone.*