Work Text:
Vinsmoke Sanji wasn't much of a collector. Besides the cooking tools he used with almost religious fervor, there was only one other thing that was especially precious to him. It wasn't useful, and it didn't match his apartment. Even so, Sanji wouldn't give it up for the world.
It was a simple blue and white glass vase. It was straight, and it curled out a little at the top. However, the intriguing designs made up for the unremarkable shape: the blue lines intertwined angelically against the white background, making vague patterns that tickled the imagination. Sanji put flowers in it sometimes, when he was in the mood. But why was it so special to him? The answer was simple. Someone dear to his heart gave it to him: his mentor, cook Zeff.
Zeff was indeed a very special person to him. The master cook had taken Sanji in when he'd had no place to go. He'd given him a job, and had taught him to cook, which was now one of his favorite things to do. Zeff had cared for Sanji, had given him a childhood he didn't deserve. That's why he kept the vase. It carried and preserved all those amazing memories of his surrogate father.
If it broke, he didn't know what he'd do.
Those thoughts echoed in Sanji's mind as he sat on his cheap, hand-me-down sofa in the living room, staring at said vase which rested upon the coffee table. An unlit cigarette rested between his lips, and he rolled it back and forth absentmindedly. His hair was a mess, he knew, and his clothes were dirty, but he was too tired to care. He also needed to clean up his messy apartment, he thought dimly, glancing around at the food wrappers and dirty clothes on the floor. Oh well. He'd clean up later; there was no rush. Or at least, that's what he kept telling himself. For now however, he was content to just sit and rest. College was freaking exhausting.
That was another thing. College. He had most of his classes because of Zeff too. Sanji's major was in cooking; he was going to become one of the best chefs in the world. That was his dream, and accomplishing that dream was the least he could do to repay Zeff for everything he'd done for him.
So far, though, it hadn't been very rewarding. The same old routine: waking up, working at a restaurant on the days he had to work, going to classes, being swamped with homework, working for hours on end to put a dent in that homework, falling asleep before accomplishing anything, and then starting it all over. He felt like some days were beginning to blur together. Don't get him wrong, his grades were decent, but he was getting tired of this, fast. He couldn't wait until it was all over.
With that thought in his head, Sanji dropped off into ignorant bliss.
Sanji woke the next day -Saturday, thank god- to a loud banging sound from the apartment to his right, and he groaned out loud. How could Luffy be up this early on a Saturday? And why the hell did he feel the need to disturb Sanji? Suddenly loathing his friend with all his heart, the cook sprang to his feet and stormed out of his apartment and into the hall. He marched to the next door on the right and pounded on it with no mercy, forcing his voice to remain semi-calm as he shouted,
" Come on Luffy! Be a little quieter will you?" He waited, but got no response. A vein throbbed in his head, and he was about to pound the door again, when another bang sounded from the other side. A bit of Sanji's anger evaporated, and he hesitated. What was that sound, anyway? Was Luffy okay? He waited for a bit longer, but everything stayed silent, so he turned away. About half way back to his own door, however, he stopped and circled back. Screw it, he thought. This was his best friend, and he wasn't taking chances. Hoping Luffy hadn't broken his leg or something, Sanji tried the doorknob. It was unlocked, as usual, despite Luffy being warned, and the cook stepped inside.
He was quite unprepared for what he found. Luffy was no where to be seen. Instead, Sanji found himself staring at a large, tan dog. The canine, upon hearing the door being opened, immediately loped over to the cook, a satisfied doggy smile on it's face. Behind it, Luffy's apartment looked like it had been through a war zone: his kitchen table had been knocked over, as well as a few chairs. Dog kibble had been scattered all over the floor. In one corner there was a suspicious dark spot on the carpet that Sanji didn't dwell on for too long.
The dog itself was the weirdest thing. A headband with stuffed antlers, antlers, had been placed upon it's head, making the dog look like it belonged in The Grinch. The canine also had a navy blue vest on, with a bright red cross on it, the hospital/medical symbol. It scampered up to Sanji and nuzzled his hand amicably, and in his shock he couldn't keep himself from patting the dog on the head in return.
" What the- Luffy?" he called, trying to keep the bewilderment from his voice. " Lu, are you here?" He heard a muffled, tired voice answer him from one of the back rooms, and then a door opened and the raven haired boy himself shuffled in.
Luffy had always looked like a kid. He looked like he should still be in high school, let alone college. He had a baby kind of face, with soft, black hair and a scar under one brown eye that failed to make him look any tougher. He acted like a kid too, most of the time. It was a mystery to the cook how he was in college at all. Well...if Sanji was being honest, he was more...innocent. That was the best word. Despite living on his own, Luffy seemed to have no idea that there were bad things in the world. He was carefree, happy, silly, idiotic sometimes, often times face-palm worthy, and overall completely like a...well, a kid.
But underneath that happy-go-lucky exterior, Sanji knew that Luffy was as tough as nails. You could insult him all you want and he wouldn't bat an eye, but as soon as you turned on one of his friends, he'd defend them with his whole being. He was strong, determined, protective and resilient. He may not be fully aware of all the awful things in the world, but he sure as hell knew how to deal with them anyway.
" Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. " I'm here." He rubbed his eyes tiredly and glanced around, registering the destruction with mild disappointment. Luffy glared at the dog.
" Chopper!" he whined. " I have to clean this up!" Hearing his name, Chopper waddled over to Luffy, wagging his tail. The raven haired boy grumbled for a moment, but failed to stay mad at the animal for very long. He smiled and patted it's head, giggling quietly. " Oh well," he said brightly. " You'll help me, right?"
" Luffy!" Sanji finally scolded, getting over his shock. " You know you're not allowed to have dogs here! And what happened?" Luffy looked up at the cook, still grinning and stifling a yawn.
" Chopper knocked over some stuff," he said, gesturing to the upturned furniture in case Sanji hadn't seen. " I just woke up." Sanji blinked. He stepped further into the apartment and closed the door, expecting a full explanation. " And I know dogs aren't allowed, but it was only for one night! I'm babysitting him for a friend of mine. A doctor. He's going to pick him up later today." Sanji raised an eyebrow, glancing at the antlers. Luffy followed his gaze and started giggling again. " I thought the antlers would look funny. Besides, he doesn't mind. Do you boy? Do you?" He started cooing to the dog in a babyish voice, and Sanji rolled his eyes. Giving his friend one last glare, he turned around and walked out.
Out in the hallway, he ran into his other neighbor. Zoro, in all his neon green haired glory, was striding down the hall, his keys still jangling in his hand after locking his door. Zoro nodded to Sanji, kept silent, and proceeded to the elevator.
Zoro, in Sanji's opinion, was...interesting. They didn't hang out together, unless both of them were with Luffy. They didn't talk much, except to argue and spit insults, really. Sanji and Zoro were rivals, in all sense of the word; they hated seeing the other succeed, but there was one thing they had in common.
Luffy.
Both men were the best friends of Monkey D. Luffy. Both men were protective of him, and thought of him as a little brother of sorts. Ever since they'd met, they had been rivals, but they had also made a silent agreement: protect Luffy. And through that agreement, they had become friends. They respected each other, and trusted each other, and when it involved Luffy, they would go to the other for help, if they needed it. Maybe, just maybe, if they were desperate enough, they would ask each other for help with their own problems too. Maybe. That was the extent of their relationship.
Pfft. That didn't mean that Zoro wasn't a marimo head. Or a sea weed brain. Or a brute. Or a lazy ass. But he was Luffy's friend, so Sanji had to put up with him.
Mentally burning all thoughts of Zoro, Sanji entered his apartment, and immediately headed for the kitchen. He didn't feel like cooking anything complicated; he was too tired, so he settled for whipping up some Cheerios. He grabbed the cereal, a bowl and spoon, and then opened the fridge to get some milk...and groaned. Seriously? He was out of milk? How did he not notice? He stood there, staring at the place the milk should have been, thinking of the unfairness of it all, before sighing and shutting the fridge. He'd have to get some sooner or later, so he'd just get it now. Sanji grabbed his car keys, shoved his feet into some old sneakers, and headed out.
About an hour later, Sanji returned home with several grocery bags, considerably more energized and awake than he had been before. He dumped the groceries out onto the counter and proceeded to put them away, breathing in the scent of his familiar home. The Cheezits went in the cupboard, along with the cups of Ramen and Mac n' Cheese. The large bag of carrots went in the fridge with the milk. Hey, he wasn't a complete slob; he'd gotten vegetables too.
Finally, he sat down at the kitchen table with his bowl of cereal, relieved to be sitting down again. Distantly he wondered if Luffy was still babysitting that dog. He savored every bite, even the last little escapists that tried to dodge his spoon. Then he tossed the dishes into the sink and trudged into his room to get his backpack. He had homework to do. Maybe he'd even get it finished.
It wasn't until he sat down on the sofa with his backpack that he realized something was amiss. He frowned and tilted his head, sweeping the room with his gaze. Something was off, but he couldn't figure out what. Sanji propped his feet up on the coffee table and pulled out his laptop, turning it on as he did. Silently, he waited for all the tabs to load, and then he got it.
Coffee table. Empty. Something missing.
His vase was gone.
Like he'd been electrocuted, Sanji slammed the laptop shut and shot to his feet, frantically looking on all sides of the coffee table. It must've fallen down, right? Right? But no, it wasn't there. Sanji went berserk.
What happened? Where was his vase? Did someone break in? Someone stole it! A pit opened up in his chest that only appears when you've lost something important. Oh no! This was not happening!
And then he saw it. On the coffee table. He'd been so frantic that he'd missed it. There was a fine, white dust on the surface of the table. Not the kind of dust you get when you haven't cleaned in a while. No, this was the kind of dust you get when glass breaks. Someone had freaking BROKEN his VASE. But that's not all. There were tiny drops of a dark red liquid, only a few, that nearly blended in with the table's dark wood.
Blood.
Sanji saw this, and he froze. He forced himself to slow down, and the wheels in his head started to turn. His vase was gone; it was the only valuable thing in sight, so that made sense. Someone had broken it. That same someone had then stolen it. But why would they still take a broken vase? It would only be valuable if it were whole, which meant they probably intended to fix it. Maybe Sanji could call the police and they could do that forensics thing with the blood to find out who it was.
And then another thought entered his mind. How did the thief get in? Sanji was sure he'd locked the door after he left. No one could have gotten in without damaging the door.
Except for Luffy. He'd given Luffy a spare key, for emergencies. That little turd. He'd unlocked the door, hadn't he? Sanji could think of a number of reasons why Luffy might have wanted to enter his apartment, but none of them were-
A loud bark sounded from the next apartment. Sanji felt a dark, humorless grin creep onto his face. Oh, Luffy would pay for that, alright. He'd let his vase get stolen. He stormed out into the hall, for the second time that day, intensely worried and overwhelmed by this new development. He snarled, jerked on the handle, barged in- and stopped cold.
Also for the second time that day, Sanji was not prepared for the sight he found.
The place had been cleaned up; the table and chairs were upright again, the dog food was picked up off the floor. The only thing that was the same was the dark spot in the corner. However, Chopper had been put in a large kennel, which sat near the kitchen. The big dog, free of the antlers, was whining and pacing in the cage, giving the raven haired boy a concerned look.
Luffy looked like a shocked deer caught in the headlights, his eyes blown wide. Several tubes of super glue rested on his table beside him, as well as a box of tissues. There in front of him was Sanji's vace. The thing was in several pieces, and sat on a paper plate. Only the bottom third had been reconstructed, and Luffy was holding another piece to it, waiting for the glue to dry before working on the next section. Finding his vase wasn't what had Sanji speechless, though.
Another color had been added to the blue and white ornament. Red. Luffy's hands were covered in band-aids, some of which were bleeding through and smearing on the glass surface.
Without a word, Sanji left. He left, and then came back approximately twenty seconds later with his pockets full of gauze and tape and boxes of band-aids and tubes of neosporin from a drawer near his kitchen sink. Butterfly stitches too, if he needed them; he didn't know the extent of the damage yet. Why did he have these things? Well, he was a cook. You never know what might happen in the kitchen.
Luffy, upon seeing Sanji approach, got a look of apprehension on his face. He didn't dare let go of the piece he was holding, for fear of having it break off again, but Sanji could clearly see the boy flinching away. That hurt. Since when was Luffy afraid of him?
" Sanji!" Luffy started, his voice shaking with regret, " I'm so sorry! I tripped in your apartment and fell on your vase, and it broke, and I know how much it means to you, so I-" Sanji brushed past the vase and gripped Luffy by the wrist. Not for the first time, or the last, he was torn between wanting to shake the idiotic boy senseless, or giving him a long hug. Instead, he pulled him up out of the chair, despite the bleeding boy's protests as the vase broke again, and dragged him over to the sofa, where he promptly made him sit down. " Sanji, what are you doing?" Luffy asked. Ignoring him, the cook knelt in front of his friend and emptied his pockets onto the sofa next to him. Then he took Luffy's bloodied hands gently into his own, carefully taking off the soiled band-aids, and began to assess the damage.
" You idiot," he said softly. " Don't you know that I care about my friends more than a stupid vase?" He didn't miss the way Luffy's breath hitched. Nor did he fail to notice how Luffy relaxed a moment later, allowing Sanji to see his hands better.
The majority of the cuts weren't too bad; most of them looked like large paper cuts, although they had to hurt a lot, from the way Luffy cringed when they were moved. His right hand seemed to have taken the brunt of the impact when he fell; there was a bigger, jagged slice on his palm. Sanji winced in sympathy, assuming that's where most of the blood came from.
" Hold still," he commanded. He stood and retrieved a rag from Luffy's kitchen, soaking it in the sink before returning. Almost reverently, he started to clean his friend's wounds, his heart hurting every time Luffy hissed in pain. Sanji was grateful, however, that Luffy let him take care of him. The raven haired boy wasn't really the type to do a thorough job of taking care of himself.
He was the type that would hurt himself, if he had to, trying to help his friends. And it warmed Sanji's heart, to know that Luffy cared about him that much.
Still...
Stupid, stupid Luffy. Why had he gone into Sanji's apartment in the first place? And why had he tried to fix the vase? Sure, it was special to him, but Luffy should know by now that he would have understood what had happened. He would have been mad, sure. He was right now. Losing a memento of someone you loved would do that. But how could Luffy have forgotten that he was Sanji's friend too? He should have just taken care of himself, and left the vase there. Sanji was just as capable of fixing it.
With the practiced ease of someone who has dealt with this kind of situation before, Sanji took care of Luffy's hands. He spread a thin film of neosporin over every cut, before putting new band-aids on them. For the slice on his friend's palm, he pressed a square piece of gauze to it, and then wrapped some tape around the hand to keep it in place.
About half way through, the cook heard someone at the door. Whoops. He'd forgotten to shut it in his haste to patch up Luffy. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed Zoro cautiously taking stock of the situation. He spotted the blood, and the medical supplies, and his brow furrowed. His gaze turned to Sanji, and Luffy's poor hands, with mild concern. He raised an eyebrow at the cook in a silent question. Everything okay? Sanji answered the inquiry with his own dry expression. Of course it is. I'm taking care of it. Zoro paused, then nodded stoically, apparently satisfied with that answer. By then, Luffy had noticed Zoro's presence as well.
" Hey Zoro!" he cried enthusiastically. His voice wasn't shaking anymore. Zoro grinned slightly.
" Hey," he said simply. " You alright?"
" Yup!" came the chipper reply. " Just a little accident." Sanji barly kept himself from snorting. Zoro, trusting that Sanji had things covered, retreated from the doorway with a last nod to Luffy, leaving them alone.
After inspecting his work and making sure he didn't miss anything, Sanji finished up by throwing away the old band-aids and tossing the rag into the sink. He left the rest of the supplies on the sofa; he'd get them later. For now, he sat down next to Luffy.
" Why did you go into my apartment in the first place?" he asked casually.
" Well...I..." Luffy narrowed his eyes at the dark spot on his carpet, and then at Chopper the dog. " Chopper peed on the carpet this morning, and I knew you had some good stain removers. I thought you wouldn't mind if I borrowed them for a while." Oh. Well, that was okay. Sanji nodded.
" Okay," he said. " That's fine...but next time, call me or something, okay? When you need something from my apartment. And especially if you hurt yourself like this again. That goes for when you're not in my apartment too." He'd hate it if Luffy got hurt again.
The brown eyed boy smiled then. His grin stretched as wide as the sea, and his eyes sparkled.
" Sure thing, Sanji," Luffy drawled. And the cook believed him. He let out a relieved breath, knowing that nothing like this would ever happen again.
Well, now that they got that out of the way...Sanji stood up and offered his hand to his friend. Luffy gripped it with his less injured hand, and let Sanji pull him to his feet.
" Now," he said, " we can fix the vase." And they did. They laughed and had fun while they did it. And when it was done, Sanji liked it even more than before. It had cracks in it, and some of the super glue was visible. He doubted he could ever put flowers in it again, at least with water. Even so, the cook was excited to have it back, even in the condition that it was in. Why? Because this experience had given it new memories. Now, whenever he looked at it, he would remember not only his time with Zeff, but this moment with Luffy as well. And that, to him, meant the world.