There was something different about her today, he noticed.

Maybe it was the way she nearly snapped Sanji in half like a twig when he told her they were out of hot chocolate mix.

Maybe it was the way she nearly bit Chopper’s head off when he asked her what was wrong.

“Nothing!” she had snapped.

“S-sorry!” Chopper had replied.

Maybe it was her eyes. Her eyes had almost frightened him when he glimpsed them that morning. They were their regular blue and silver selves, but she had an almost feral aura about her.

Needless to say, he’d been worried all day. No, he had been worried about the nineteen-year-old for almost a month. Her temper was steadily on the rise in spikes. Mood swings, and sudden odd cravings for the strangest food (she asked for a hotdog with whipped cream on top of it one time).

It was dusk now.

Roronoa Zoro was in his usual spot of comfort by the mast, arms crossed over his middle, his head bowed. But the swordsman was not asleep. He found it hard to fall asleep now, with her on his mind. She had always been somewhat of an odd character, that was what he loved about her. But now…now she was just different.

He heard light footsteps and he glanced up. The girl jumped, apparently thinking he had been asleep. “Skie.” he nodded at her and gave her a smile of acknowledgement. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

She brushed a strand of her short hair out of her eyes. Last week, on one of her unpredictable mood swings, she had proclaimed her hair too annoying and had given herself a pixie cut with a pair of kitchen sheers.

Sanji, as expected, had thrown quite a royal tantrum, as he liked her hair long and those were his favorite sheers.

Zoro tilted his head like a curious (and worried) cat. "What's wrong?"

“Nothing.” she snapped. It was a quiet version of how she had lashed out at the Merry’s doctor.

“Skie.” Zoro said. It was not a statement. There was a questioning edge to it, and a command. He was ordering her to tell him what was wrong.

“Nothing!” She let the volume of her voice rise to a yell. Her narrowed eyes suddenly widened for an instant and she turned beet red, placing the back of her palm on her forehead. Her skin shone with perspiration and Zoro scrambled to his feet.

“Skie. Skie what is it? Are you sick? Tell me what’s wrong.” he fretted, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

She shook her head. “I don’t…”

“Don’t give me that crap. If you’re sick go see Chopper. In fact, I’ll go get him right now.” Zoro turned to head up to the galley, where the crew now resided, and their voices could be heard as they laughed and talked. He was stopped by a delicate, yet fierce, grip on his arm.

“Don’t you dare.” she growled in a tone that startled him.

“Why not? Look at you! You look like Nami did when she caught that jungle bug, or whatever it was.” Zoro had the urge to simply carry her up to Chopper. That would be quite easy, but he knew she wouldn’t talk to him for a while if he did so.

“I don’t…” she took a deep breathe, the flushed color draining from her cheeks. She grew pale in about two seconds flat. “I don’t want them to know.”

“That you’re sick? Skie, that’s stupid.”

“Not that.” Skie shook her head, and then pulled her hand back to herself. “Stay here.” she told him.

“Why-”

But Skie had turned and headed into her room, and he grunted in irritation at the slowness of her footsteps.

Minutes later she was standing in the doorframe, looking tired and angry. “You want to know? You really wanna know?” she growled.

Oh God, thought Zoro, another mood swing. He braced himself for impact as she stomped towards him, stopping half a foot from him.

Instead of a punch, or a whack in the head with a frying pan, she held something up for him to see.

It looked somewhat like a thermometer, but it had no number indicator for temperature. Instead of numbers there was just…a…color… He swallowed, realization setting in.

“Yeah.” Skie said, stuffing the thermometer in her pocket. “It’s blue.”

“Oh…shit.” He swallowed yet again. Now it was his turn to go pale.