Hunter-2

In the heart of the monastery's courtyard, Hana was on her knees, her fingers pushing and molding the golden sand, her face a mask of concentration. Other children surrounded her. The sun was setting, casting long shadows that danced with the children.

The Chief Monk, a towering figure of serenity, walked into the courtyard. His eyes, wise and knowing, took in the scene before him. The children, the sand, the laughter. His lips curved into a smile, his heart warmed by the sight.

"What have you built there, Hana?" he asked, his voice echoing in the courtyard.

Hana looked up, her eyes bright with excitement. "Home!" she exclaimed, her voice ringing with pride.

The monk raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on his face. "For me?"

Hana shook her head vigorously, sending her jade-colored hair flying. "No, no," she protested, "Home of the hero."

"Hero?" the monk echoed, his curiosity piqued.

"Mama been captured by demons," Hana explained, her small hands gesturing wildly, "He will save her."

The monk looked at the children, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Have you seen these demons?" he asked, his tone teasing.

The children exchanged glances, their eyes wide with anticipation. They shook their heads, their expressions a mix of fear and excitement.

"Let's see," the monk mused, stroking his beard as if deep in thought. "What have you heard of these demons?" he asked.

"The ones about demons born from the seeds of violence, his violence then creates monsters." A shiver seemed to pass through the group. "And there's a hero," a second child added, her voice loud. "He defeats the demon and everybody is happy."

Atop a dormant volcano, Zoro sat, his gaze fixed on the seething, bubbling lava below. His eyes were lifeless, echoing the desolation of the volcano's crater, yet mirroring the tumultuous rage of the molten rock beneath.

The Chief Monk listened to the children, his voice a seasoned timbre that complemented their youthful innocence. "And yet," he added, "the hero becomes what he fights. He slays the beast, but at what cost? His soul finds no peace. He is consumed by the same fire that fuels his anger. In the end, he becomes the demon."

The volcano beneath Zoro roared, spewing lava into the darkening sky.

"What do you mean, Chief?" one child finally asked, his voice an uncertain whisper.

"Just thinking out loud," the Chief Monk responded, his gaze distant, his thoughts far away.

He knelt beside the children, his eyes probing. "And who lives here, in this sand fortress?" he asked.

"My Papa!" Hana announced, her eyes sparkling with pride.

On the edge of the volcano, Zoro rose, his figure cast in the crimson light of the erupting lava.. At that moment, Zoro stood, his silhouette etched against the backdrop of the erupting volcano.

The Chief Monk nodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "I suspected as much," he said, his voice barely a whisper, a quiet homage.

***

In the quiet solitude of the night, Zoro arrived at the monastery. The air was heavy with tranquility, only broken by the distant hoot of an owl. He moved silently through the corridors, heading for his daughter's room. His heart pounded in his chest, a rhythm that echoed through the stillness.

Entering Hana's room, he found it empty. The absence of her presence was palpable, a hollow void that filled the room. Confusion etched lines onto his face. He left the room, stepping into the moonlit garden. There, he found a boy, one of Hana's playmates.

"Have you seen Hana?" Zoro asked, his voice a whisper in the night.

"She's on the beach, refusing to come home," the boy replied.

Without a word, Zoro spun on his heel, heading towards the monastery gate. And then, he was running. His feet pounded against the hard ground, a drumbeat in the night. His thoughts were a whirlwind, a storm of concern. His mind filled with images of Hana, his little girl, alone on the beach.

A small figure came into view, huddled on the shore. She was crying, her small frame shaking with each sob. His heart clenched at the sight. He called out to her, his voice echoing across the empty beach, "Hana... Hana...!"

She turned, her tear-filled eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Papa... Papa..." she cried out, her voice choked with tears.

Zoro slid to a stop before her, dropping to his knees. His eyes met hers, the emerald green of her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. He reached out, gently wiping away her tears. "What happened?" he asked, his voice soft.

She pointed to the side, towards the sand. "Papa," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

Zoro looked at where she was pointing, but saw nothing but sand. "It's just sand, Hana. What happened?"

"I made a home for us. A place where Papa, Mama, and Hana could live together. But a wave destroyed it," she sobbed, burying her face in his chest. 

Zoro looked at the ruined sandcastle, then down at his daughter. He held her close, her head nestled against his chest. "You were trying to create a new home for us?" he asked.

"Ummm," she murmured, her voice muffled against his chest.

They walked back to the monastery in silence, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the night. As they entered, they were greeted by the Chief Monk. Zoro sent Hana ahead, telling her, "Go on for now, I will meet you." She nodded, casting one last glance back at him before disappearing into the monastery.

"First time I've seen you worried like that," the Chief Monk said, breaking the silence.

"Worried? Me?" Zoro responded, a hint of surprise in his voice. "You're imagining it."

"Maybe I am," the Chief Monk replied, a small smile playing on his lips. "She's been here for a month already, and she's clearly very attached to you."

"It makes sense," Zoro said simply, his gaze fixed on the path Hana had taken.

"Tomorrow is her birthday. I overheard the kids talking about it a few days ago," the Chief Monk informed him.

"So?" Zoro asked, nonchalantly.

"You're dumb!" the Chief Monk exclaimed, shaking his head. "Birthdays are special for kids. I thought you should know." With that, he turned and left, leaving Zoro standing alone.

"Birthday, huh?" Zoro mumbled to himself, his mind already turning over the new information.

Zoro retired to his chamber for the night, the stone walls of the monastery echoing with silence. He glanced towards the corner where Hana slept, her small form curled up under the blankets. She was sleeping soundly, her breathe rising and falling rhythmically in the dim light.

Approaching her bed, Zoro noticed a piece of paper clutched in her tiny hand. He gently extracted it, careful not to wake her. It was a drawing. A child's drawing of him, Hiyori, and Hana. They were all holding hands, standing in front of a castle. It was crude, yet filled with an innocence that tugged at his heartstrings.

He studied the drawing for a moment, then carefully placed the paper back in Hana's hand. As he turned to leave, he cast one last glance at her peacefully sleeping face, her emerald hair spread out on the pillow. A soft whisper escaped his lips, "You dream big, little girl." Then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him.

"She needs a father, and I am not father material," Zoro muttered to himself as he walked down the hallway. The words hung in the air, echoing back to him off the cold stone walls.

He stopped suddenly, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He turned back, his gaze drawn to the closed door of Hana's room. He entered quietly, moving to sit beside her bed. He placed his head on the edge of her bed, his eyes never leaving her face. And there, in the quiet of the night, he fell asleep.