"Zoro!" Luffy gave him a happy grin, looked out at sea...swung his head about to give his first mate a slightly longer look centered on the latter's new bust line, then back up at Zoro's face as he waved excitedly. "Hurry up! Nami says the log pose will set here if we wait too long, and then we won't be able to sail to Merman Island because we'll be set on another course. Hey, do you know your clothes are too big?"

“I am not a pretty thing,” Zoro tells him, scratching at her freshly shaved neck. Uneven strands of green hair, just long enough to barely brush the tips of her eyebrows, flop wet and graceless into her face as she turns to scowl at him. “And even if I were a pretty thing,” she adds, “I wouldn’t be yours. I wouldn’t be anyone’s, Cook.” Roronoa Zoro swore an oath that she would become nothing less than the greatest. The fact that she is a woman changes nothing.