Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Hand clutched around the baby monitor, Sanji slowly goes down the stairs, the scent of lukewarm coffee, dish soap, and leftover food getting stronger as he reaches the ground floor.

In the kitchen, Kaya and Vivi are hand washing pots and pans, their movements synchronized under hot water. Beside them, Chopper is sipping hot chocolate, chatting animatedly, his cheeks flushed from the warmth. Franky and Robin are nowhere to be seen — probably still busy putting the twins to bed.

In the living room, Zoro, Usopp, Luffy, and Jinbei are settled on the large sofas, their low voices punctuated by muffled laughter.

Some footsteps echo in the stairway, before Law and Brook emerge from the door leading to the basement, each carrying a basket of still-warm laundry. They discuss a new song they heard on the radio while waiting for the elevator, and when it arrives, Law gets in to drop off his laundry on the sixth floor, while Brook takes the stairs to the first. The scent of clean fabric fills the hallway, enveloping Sanji in a domestic warmth that contrasts sharply with the turmoil still swirling in his mind.

He can't bring himself to cross the threshold yet, lingering in the hallway for a moment. A part of him wants to turn back, to rush upstairs and lay in bed for a while. The other, wearier part of him longs to stay, to breathe in this calm, their laughter, their lightheartedness. He finally moves, one step at a time, then sits at the end of the sofa currently occupied by Zoro.

Lost in his thoughts, he barely listens to the conversations around him. They are still overlapping with each other, but in a softer way than during dinner, the topics being more serious now that the children are in bed. Only Luffy, recounting an "incredible" training session at the fire station he attended last week, is still speaking loudly. In the kitchen, Chopper explains to Kaya and Vivi that he had to remind to young parents — again — that toddlers are not supposed to have screen time before at least three years old, and in front of Sanji, Usopp is complaining about a colleague who doesn't seem to grasp the concept of deadlines. The hum of the dishwasher mingles with the crew's quiet chatter, creating a soft, familiar murmur he hasn't heard in a long time.

When Nami arrives, she settles beside him without a word, her presence a silent anchor. Then, once everything is finally drying on the draining rack, Kaya, Vivi and Chopper join them, the girls sitting down on the couch while Chopper sits cross-legged on the large rug, his mug of hot chocolate still in hand. A few minutes later, Law, Brook, Robin, and Franky finally arrive. The latter grabs a mug, pours himself a steaming cup of coffee, and offers hot beverages for everyone.

As some of them agree, Sanji refuses with a shake of his head. The faint taste of this afternoon's coffee, the one he never finished, still lingers in his mouth. His thoughts are muddled, fragmented. The image of Pudding, her shifty eyes — it all replays over and over in his mind.

He can hardly believe he's here, in the middle of this group he'd left after only a few months of marriage to move to the other end of the country.

He's still trying to find where to begin when Nami places a hand on his knee, her touch light and reassuring. The conversations slowly die down, and Sanji can feel a few glances on him — not heavy, but attentive — everyone waiting for him to be ready to speak.

Taking a deep breath in, he runs a hand through his already messy hair, trying to hide the trembling of his fingers. Before he can even start, Robin prompts, "You don't have to tell us everything right now. We just want to know what you're planning to do from now on."

"It's fine," Sanji reassures her. "I want you to know."

His gaze jumps from the baby monitor to his hands, lingering for a second on the faint mark of his missing wedding band. When he starts talking, he doesn't have it in him to look at them.

"First of all, I want to thank you again. For the meal, for the room, for letting me in without judgment."

He can almost feel some of them rolling their eyes at that, but no one interrupts him, the silence only disturbed by the dishwasher and the hum of the heater.

"When I agreed to marry Pudding, it was to free myself from the Vinsmokes. I never told you about it because I thought I could handle this on my own. The marriage contract stated that if the union lasted for five years, I would finally be free. Permanently. No more moving back to the mansion at 21. No more being a perfect heir to a family I despised. They agreed to let me go in exchange for some business deals with the Charlotte family. It was… my only way out."

He glances up briefly at Vivi, then at Robin, looking for traces of disappointment, betrayal, but he sees none, only concern, and he feels a bit lighter as he continues.

"I knew it wouldn’t be a love match. But at first, we believed in it. We really tried. We were getting to know each other, we went on a few dates, we laughed sometimes, had some things in common. It was… not so bad."

A faint, fleeting smile crosses his face.

"Then, after a few weeks, she came home with a proposition: to start over somewhere else, take a fresh start, just the two of us. She thought that if we only had each other, we'd have to grow closer. And I agreed. That’s when I left, when I cut ties with you. I— I thought it was the right thing to do: turn the page, dedicate myself to this new life. And it worked, for a while."

He takes a slow breath. "But as time went on, she drifted away. She withdrew into silence, and I did everything I could to fill the void. I wanted to be a good husband; I wanted to believe it could work. I loved her in a way. Or maybe I convinced myself it was love... Even after the five years had passed, I still didn't want to throw away this part of my life, so I stayed, I tried to find new ways to please her, then I finally decided to do something for myself."

Closing his eyes, Sanji ruffles his bangs again.

"When I opened my restaurant, it was like breathing again. My dream, finally real. I managed to convince her to move back here with me, and for a few months… I thought everything was getting better. We laughed again. We argued a little, sure, but at least we talked, we reconnected. I believed in it, in us. Then Sora arrived. It wasn’t planned. But when I found out Pudding was pregnant, I was happy. Terrified, but happy. It took some convincing, but she agreed to keep the baby, and I thought it would bring us closer."

A silence.

"It was just the opposite."

His voice deepens, slow and steady, as he gets to the parts that hurt him the most.

"After the birth, she changed. She didn’t want to hold Sora, to take care of her. She never woke when she cried at night, never checked on her, leaving my little girl all alone in her crib for hours sometimes. She said Sora looked too much like me, that seeing her brought back everything she wanted to forget: me, the wedding, our life. I tried to understand. I thought it was fatigue, depression, postpartum… but no. She simply didn't want her."

He sighs, his gaze meeting Chopper's misty eyes, then drifting to Zoro's clenched fists on his lap.

"So, I did what I could. I took care of the restaurant, of the baby, of the house. I held on as best I could. I told myself that if I did things right, if I remained patient, she would eventually come back to us."

Sanji pauses once more, raw emotion tightening his throat, his hand holding onto the baby monitor like a lifeline. But they already know this part, so it feels easier to tell them the full story about today.

"This afternoon, I came home earlier than expected." He inhales, jaw tight. "I found them together. Her and her secretary. There were no shouts, no argument. She didn't say anything. Neither did I. I grabbed Sora, a few things, and left."

The silence in the room is heavy, as if everyone is holding back their thoughts about his situation. His shoulders slump slightly. "She didn't even try to stop us… I wish I could hate her, get angry. But I think I'm just… exhausted. Tired of having tried to make this life bearable for eight years. Tired of believing I could build something on a contract between two families."

He raises the baby monitor while speaking, meeting Robin's eyes with a faint smile.

"Sora is all that's left of that. She wasn't planned, but she's become the reason I’m still breathing. Even when she cries all night, even when I have doubts… when she laughs, I forget everything else. She's my family now."

Now that he's explained a bit more, he feels strong enough to look at Luffy, and when he raises his head, his gaze is clearer.

"My first thought was to go to Zeff’s. But his apartment above the Baratie is tiny, and… I know he would have wanted to help me. But I couldn’t bear to see him worrying about me. Not again. So, I thought of you. Because with you, I never had to pretend."

His smile wavers ever so slightly, but he doesn't avert his gaze from Luffy's, the intensity of the man's eyes showing him that he's being serious — there is no trace of the goofy young man he was half an hour ago.

"I'm sorry for cutting ties so abruptly, and I regret not coming back sooner. When I opened the restaurant, when I moved back here, or even when Sora was born. I was afraid, I think. Afraid to look you in the eye, knowing that leaving was one of my greatest mistakes."

Luffy's intense gaze doesn't waver, and Sanji has to look away, unable to hold it. He takes in everyone else in the room; in their eyes, there is still that hint of worry mixed with sadness, but no one seems to hold it against him.

Startling everyone in the room, Luffy suddenly jumps to his feet, a wide smile on his face.

"The most important part is that you're back now!" he exclaims with his usual enthusiasm. "You're part of this crew; you always have been. You didn't do anything wrong, you just needed some time away. It happens."

At that, he shrugs, and the atmosphere of the room shifts instantly, everyone relaxing a bit, smiles appearing and shoulders dropping slightly, as if an invisible weight has been lifted.

As much as he's younger than most of them and — usually — an irritating little brat, Luffy has always been the core of their group. They all look up to him for one reason or another, having been dragged into this crew at some point in their life, and they wouldn't dare to question his decisions, especially his opinion on people. Everything seems so simple to him. No need for apologies, no need for long speeches: Luffy understands everything with a single glance.

"If Luffy is on board, so am I," Zoro says calmly.

"I already told you, you're part of this crew," Nami adds. "You can stay here for as long as you'd like. Our guest room is yours and Sora's from now on."

She exchanges a glance with Vivi who nods, smiling tenderly at her wife, then at Sanji.

"And we can help," Robin proposes gently. "We're used to taking care of babies after Lili, Tom, and Olivia. With us around, you'll never need a babysitter. If you're okay with us looking after her, of course, we can arrange everything for you to be able to work as you used to."

Sanji doesn't know where to begin. On top of offering him a place to stay indefinitely with Sora, they are also willing to help him take care of her if he needs them to.

"Brook and Jinbei are often away, but I have my official babysitting certificate!" Usopp announces, puffing his chest with pride.

"Yeah, except you can't control any of them and end up causing as much mischief as they do!" Kaya replies, amused.

"Oh, Sanji, that makes me think, do you have a pediatrician for Sora?" Chopper asks, his eyes sparkling with seriousness. "I don't know if anyone told you, but I opened my own medical center for children a year ago. I can add her to my practice. It'll be more convenient for appointments and mandatory vaccinations."

"Thanks Chopper," Sanji finally replies, breaking into a genuine smile. "Congratulations on passing the exam. I'd love for you to be Sora's doctor; we didn't have a regular one yet."

He hesitates for a second as Franky and Kaya are still listing some of Usopp's failures when babysitting the three kids, then he clears his throat before answering Robin.

"I have a contract with Makino — Sora's nanny — until she turns one, so I'll at least leave her in her care until then during weekdays. But if it's not too much trouble, I might take you up on your offer in the evenings and on the weekends. I didn't really give it a thought, but the restaurant is open every day except for Mondays. And I usually end up coming home late in the evening…"

"You don't have to decide anything today," Vivi reassures him. "We can just plan for tomorrow and then we'll see."

"Actually," Sanji continues. "I called my staff earlier today to close the restaurant for a few days. So, I'll have time to think about this. Thank you."

"Stop thanking us!" Nami scolds him, rolling her eyes. "Don't think that any of this is gonna be free. We all know that you can cook, and some of us are really tired of cooking for fifteen people!"

Laughter ripples through the room, the tension fully gone now. Sanji sinks a little deeper into the cushions, his hand finally releasing the baby monitor as he rediscovers that joyful chaos he loved so much and missed more than he cares to admit.

After agreeing to cook tomorrow's dinner, Sanji witnesses the crew's generosity once more. Robin is going to lend him a car seat and a stroller for Sora, and Vivi assures him that Lili's high chair should still be lying around in the basement. As Jinbei suggests bringing the playpen back up, Usopp says that he's been wanting to double check the safety of the playroom's plugs since their last video-game night. Then, to Sanji's surprise, Law offers his yogurt maker — a gift from a friend — that he used twice before giving up without being able to eat a single yogurt (Luffy ate them too fast) and Franky promises to bring down the baby food maker and some glass jars in the morning — guessing that a chef would want his daughter to eat homemade dishes.

The warmth spreading in his chest is overwhelming, Sanji's heart aching as one by one, every member of the crew offers something to make sure Sora will be safe and have everything she needs to grow up properly. For a moment, all he can do is nod, eyes a bit misty as he takes in the scene before his eyes: his childhood friends, all gathered around him, chatting animatedly, the soft glow of the lamp reflecting on the mugs now empty on the coffee table, the room full of laughter and the murmur of conversations, familiar and reassuring.

After a moment, Jinbei gets up and bids everyone a good night. As a pilot, he has an early flight tomorrow and wants to use his few hours on the ground to rest. He pats Sanji on the shoulder with his large hand as he passes, assuring him that everything will be alright, before heading up the stairs to his apartment.

His departure marks the end of the evening. Little by little, the conversations fade away, the laughter becomes more subdued. One by one, they get up, stretch, and wish each other goodnight, starting with Sanji himself.

Luffy takes him in his arms — a quick, tight hug that crushes Sanji's ribs for a second — before heading to the elevator, his arm already around Law's waist. Brook promises, with a grand, theatrical gesture, to write a new lullaby especially for Sora, starting to hum a tune as he climbs the stairs. Robin and Franky wave goodbye before entering the elevator themselves, the doors closing gently to the sound of Luffy's laugh.

Placing her hands on his shoulders, Kaya kisses Sanji on both cheeks. She looks at him for a moment, with a motherly gaze, before advising him to go to sleep if he doesn't want to get into trouble with his newly appointed doctor — herself. Then she leaves hand in hand with Usopp, who's already making a list of everything he needs to check in the playroom.

Before joining Usopp and Kaya in the elevator, Chopper also gives him a brief hug. "I missed you," he murmurs. "I'm so glad you're back. I'm sure you'll be alright — both of you."

In a matter of minutes, Sanji finds himself standing in the middle of the living-room, Vivi kissing Nami on the cheek and telling her not to come up too late, only Zoro remaining on the couch, smirking at the red-haired woman.

"Come," Nami tells Sanji, grabbing his wrist to prevent him from following Vivi. She exchanges a knowing glance with Zoro, and he finally stands up, heading to the kitchen. He opens a cupboard, takes out three glasses and a bottle of sake, and Sanji can't help but smile — of course those two have plans for him.

"What a silly idea to offer you a hot beverage," Zoro mutters as he pours the glasses. "You clearly need something stronger."

The three of them take seats at the dining table, the only source of light the soft honey-toned bulbs from the living room, giving the whole room a soft, relaxing atmosphere. The silence, broken only by the clinking of the bottle against the table, has something soothing about it. They clink glasses without a word, the glasses gently rattling against each other. The alcohol burns Sanji's throat and leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. He grimaces slightly, which makes Nami laugh, but he says nothing. Zoro was right: he needed something stronger than coffee. The warmth of the sake slowly spreads through his chest, making him feel a little lighter.

A comfortable silence settles in, Nami absently swirling her glass between her fingers.

"You know, no one blames you," she says softly. "Don't get me wrong— I think you're stupid for keeping everything to yourself for so long. But I don't blame you. When you left… we figured you must've had a good reason for cutting ties… I think deep down, we all knew it was not your doing — or at least not entirely…"

Looking down at his glass, Sanji rubs the rim with his thumb, heart hammering in his chest, shame creeping back up.

"I was so scared," he whispers. "Scared to reach out to you. To come back into your lives after all this time. I thought that you'd reject me, that even if I explained, you wouldn't understand why I had to get married, why I had to leave… I was so scared I wouldn't belong anywhere ever again."

"You belong here," Nami replies without hesitation. "You always have."

Zoro nods slowly, eyes fixed on his glass too when he says, "She's right." Then he raises his head, taking a sip of sake before adding, in a playful tone Sanji hasn't heard in a very long time, "And for once, you didn't ruin everything with your grand speeches. So you're off to a good start."

Sanji burst into a short laugh that surprises him, lightening his mood even more. "You're still as delicate as ever, mosshead," he retorts with a smirk of his own.

"And you're still as loud as ever, cook," Zoro concludes, downing his drink in one gulp.

"I'm a chef!" Sanji shoots back, like an old reflex returning unexpectedly.

"Glad to see some things are back to normal," Nami shakes her head, an amused smile playing on her lips.

Both men stare at each other for a second, before Zoro raises the bottle between them. "Another one?"

Sanji declines, and they don't press when they go for round two. They stay there for a while longer, talking about random things: some annoying customers at Sanji's restaurant, Luffy's new training, Nami's job, the return of the cold. Nothing important, just three friends spending time together, like in the good old days. When silence falls again, Sanji stands up and lets out a long sigh.

"Thank you," he says, the other two rolling their eyes at the same time.

"You should go to sleep," Nami advises him gently. "I assume Sora will be up early tomorrow morning."

"We'll take care of this," Zoro adds, snatching his glass before Sanji could grab it. "Go to bed, she needs you well rested."

Stopping himself from thanking them again, Sanji nods, the lump in his throat forming again, the thought of both of his old friends being worried about him and Sora still too foreign.

"Good night," he finally manages to say.

Baby monitor in hand, steps a bit unsteady, he walks off toward the hallway. At the bottom of the stairs, he turns around one last time, as if to add something, but the words die on his lips. Zoro and Nami are still talking as they're cleaning up, their voices low, words drowned by the sound of running water, but the worry on their faces is unmistakable. He knows they are talking about him, and he doesn't mind. He'd been out of their life for eight years, everything can't go back to normal in a single evening.

As he starts to climb the stairs, the water stops, and he hears Zoro saying, "To dare to ask for help? Yes, definitely. The Sanji I knew would have tried to handle everything on his own…"

"He's not that man anymore," Nami sighs.

"I know."

Zoro's answer is barely audible, as if there is something more behind the words, but Sanji doesn't try to analyze it. He's changed, and the crew probably has, too — who wouldn't in eight years? So, as much as tonight felt familiar, he knows they're all probably going to need some time to get to know each other again.