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“Father! Help! Save me!”
He screamed and screamed until he was hoarse, but nobody came.
His hands kept clutching onto the bars, trying to shake them free. He was here because he was weak. If only he were stronger, if only he had worked harder, if only, if only. His fingers got blisters and they popped and ran down his hands, stinging, and so he sat right by the cell door where it was the brightest; someone had to feed him, someone had to come down and check, someone had to take this helmet off so he could talk properly, eat properly – but nobody came.
It was too dark to sleep. Too quiet, and yet too noisy. Rats skittered abound and when his stomach growled he managed to catch one and he held it under his hands as it bit and scratched but in the end, he couldn’t do it. He let it go and found a centipede instead, crushed it dead and strung it into his helmet, shivering at its touch all the way. He washed it down by licking the inside of his helmet, drinking the condensation of his breath.
He tried to listen to footsteps above, see if he could tell the time by the way people walked. No footsteps must have meant mealtime. Or maybe everybody was training. Or maybe someone had come and destroyed the kingdom and there was nobody left to let him out.
His stomach felt like it was crawling, eating him from the inside out. He caught a beetle. Maybe this was another one of his father’s tests. Maybe if he ever broke out, he would finally be strong enough. Maybe if he survived long enough, his father would be impressed. It’s possible, isn’t it? He would do his absolute best. Even when his nails were inches long and his hair threatened to strangle him, he had to prove himself.
But nobody came.
Vinsmoke Judge ordered the cell to be opened and the occupant brought to him.
The figure was unrecognizable, coated in dirt and scabs, covered only by rags and that helmet, too thin to be alive, but it had been years. That much was to be expected. When he dug out the key to unlatch the helmet, he couldn’t help but think that the face of his prodigal son left much to be desired. Lips marred by infection scars, hair left matted and greasy, ears flattened back against his head, skin rubbed raw and even torn in places when the helmet was removed...it was enough for him to consider putting the mask back on again. But Big Mom probably would object to such an obscured groom. He waved a doctor over.
“Can we get this face looking right?”
“Of course, your highness. I will prepare the operating room.”
Judge turned back. “Listen, boy. You will not speak of these past few years. You were lost in an accident at sea and we only just recently found you. Understood?”
The boy lowered his head, disgusting hair masking his face. Judge scowled. “I asked you a question.”
“Sir, if I may,” said a scientist, stepping forward. “Let’s assume that he hasn’t spoken to anyone during his confinement. I would suggest that his mental state is not equipped to talk properly at this moment. If you would allow me to analyze his behavior – “
Judge waved a hand. “Yes, yes. At least this whole thing’s taught him a lesson in impudence. Go and make him presentable.”
The boy padded silently alongside the soldiers that held him, tracking black prints – a mixture of blood and who knew what else. He wasn’t seen again for one frustrating month, which was as long as Judge held his patience before declaring that the boy was good enough to be seen and the whole kingdom held a day long celebration for the miracle return of the third son. After ten years, the family was complete again. His ears still lay flat against his head and there was still the faint red of old lacerations on his face, and as carefully as he was fed his bones still jutted out like odd gravestones. But he looked like a relative instead of a feral beast, and so it was good enough.
“So, where ya been all these years?”
“I was gonna say we thought you died, but you look pretty dead already!”
Sanji stared at them.
“Eh? No backtalk from ol’ Sanji? Ha!” Yonji slapped a hand on Sanji’s shoulder and he almost collapsed. “Guess the real world actually taught you something useful!”
“I don’t like the way he’s looking at us. It’s real creepy.”
“Yeah, well at least he’s shut up.”
“Think he ever got stronger?”
Niji barked out a laugh. “As if. He’s weaker than ever!” Shooting a glance back at Sanji, he leaned in closer to Yonji and whispered, “Wanna see something? Promise it’s funny.”
At Yonji’s wide grin and nod, Niji turned around, grabbed Sanji’s wrist, threw him into a nearby closet, and leaned a foot against the door. They watched the doorknob jiggle, then watched the door struggle against Niji’s shoe. And then the screaming started.
“He’s afraid of the dark!” Niji roared out, slapping Yonji’s back congenially. Yonji laughed out of sheer surprise and then grew to full-blown guffawing. “Isn’t that so lame?”
“You two!” Reiju bellowed from down the hallway before she appeared right in front of them and shoved them aside. The door flung open and Sanji fell to the floor, weeping so hard his snot was dripping into his mouth, and Reiju grabbed his hand and held it up.
“Look at this!” she shouted, flourishing the bloodied nails. “He’s supposed to be the groom! What’s wrong with you? Now I have to clean all this up!”
Despite the lecture, Yonji and Niji just laughed as she turned around and dragged Sanji away.
“What’s got you so afraid of the dark anyways?” Reiju spat out, scrubbing alcohol on his fingers. But all Sanji could vocalize was “S-so..r...sorr...s...” It was about as much as he could say nowadays.
Every time Sanji touched his food with his hands, he would get whipped. Or shocked or punched, but it didn’t really matter what negative reinforcement they used. He fell onto his food with the fervor of an animal and then moved on to swipe whatever he could from the others. His success depended on their mood.
“I always wanted a dog,” Niji commented as he held a slice of steak above Sanji’s head. Sanji jumped for it and fell short.
While Yonji and Reiju laughed, Ichiji sighed. “Don’t be vulgar.”
“He should stop being vulgar first. It’s not like he’s gotta worry about food, why’s he acting like this?” But Niji tossed the slice over and Sanji tore into it as fast as he could, practically growling.
Imperceptibly, Yonji flicked a smidge of mashed potatoes on the floor and Sanji knocked over his chair scooping it up. Ichiji wrinkled his nose before throwing his plate against the ground, food and all.
As soon as Sanji scrabbled towards it, Ichiji slammed his foot on his head. “How low has your dignity fallen?” he snarled.
“Ichiji...” Reiju warned.
“I didn’t think he could get any more disgusting, and yet here he is!” Ichiji gestured to Sanji, who was still trying to shovel food into his mouth.
“If you hurt his face, father will be upset.”
“Any bride would run away screaming already.” But with one last forceful stamp, Ichiji lifted his foot and everybody left Sanji to clean the floor with his tongue.
Reiju chattered whenever she had to bandage up Sanji, which was often. “Like the good old days,” she said, though there was a hint of wryness. Like she was wondering why her brothers couldn’t just be mature. Sometimes she tried to sound out words for him, encourage him to talk like a regular human being. She didn’t shout at him when he messed up, just laughed and tried again.
Sometimes she’d ask about what happened, and when he didn’t answer, she would say her theories out loud. “You were captured by a pirate ship and did forced labor. You were found floating in the water and taken to an orphanage. You ended up on the streets and fought for your life – oh, wait. You still can’t fight, can you.” And then she’d laugh.
When he had collected the words he needed, all the ten years came spilling out like they were just waiting for the right time. Helmet. Cell. Isolation. Convenience. Surgery. Father.
It’s because of father. I’m like this because of father. It’s so bright out here and it’s almost blinding, but I can’t go back into the dark again, can’t even close my eyes because I’ll start to see bricks and corners and bars. I’ve been down there so long it’s hard to care anymore, about anything, except to never be there ever again, but I do care, I care about people knowing what has happened to me, what has been done to me, I want to be acknowledged as a victim, I want someone to tell me that it wasn’t my fault, I just want someone to help me hate my dad by hating him with me. Please listen to me, please believe me. Please.
Reiju laughed.
“We were wondering where you were, and the whole time you were under our noses?” Seeing his face, she said, “Oh come on. You have to admit, that’s a little funny.”
Sanji said nothing. Stared ahead as Reiju tied off the last bandage.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell father that you told me. And on the bright side, once you get married, you don’t even have to live here anymore! Just think about that when you’re sad or something.”
In the end, Sanji could do only one thing.
He withdrew.