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The party had lasted seven days in a row. They had eaten, drank, danced and slept to their hearts’ content, most of the time not even bothering to rest in a bed and instead falling asleep on the streets or on top of each other (and in Nami’s case, on top of a big furry mink alongside Wanda). The people of Wano, especially, had stuffed the food Sanji had made out of the Paradise Farm’s ingredients down their throats as if it was the last time in their lives that they would be able to do so, but none of the Strawhats or the Heart Pirates could blame them for it. Twenty years of slowly getting used to starve to death couldn’t just be erased from anyone’s memories in the span of a few days, and Sanji was more than happy to cook for them anyway.
Luffy had smiled and laughed nonstop every time his eyes laid on O-Tama, half crying and half eating, offering more food to her the second she was done with a dish. That did seem a little odd coming from Luffy, the man who rather than fill other people’s plates emptied them, so when Tenguyama Hitetsu had explained to them that Ace had promised that girl to make of Wano a place where she could have a full stomach every day, everyone understood. Luffy wasn’t just happy that he got to repay that little kid’s kindness, but all of this surely felt like fulfilling his late brother’s will. Besides, it seemed like he had bonded in a very special way with the girl— he treated her like a little sister, always protective and wary of anyone who could hurt her.
So, everyone was happy. For him, for the people they had grown to like, for Momonosuke and Hiyori, for the sort of alliance they had formed with Big Mom (although Luffy still wanted to “kick her ass”, according to him), for Kinnemon and Raizo and every samurai and ninja who would now be able to rest easy and watch their country rise from the ashes.
There were only two that didn’t seem as upbeat as the rest of them: Zoro and Sanji. They still hadn’t had a proper conversation since the latter came back from Whole Cake Island, external factors always getting in the way, and it felt like a thorn in the back of their heads that didn’t allow them to fully enjoy the party. It was just on the seventh night when Sanji had finally found it in him to go visit Zoro, for he was too busy making up excuses not to do so since the moment they knew they had won this war. When Luffy asked, he too tired from cooking all day and needed to rest. When Nami asked, he couldn’t take even a single moment off (even though the local chefs had told him several times that he could leave everything to them and go have fun if he wanted to). When Brook asked, he had “too many girls waiting to thank him for his bravery as to waste time talking to the stupid marimo”. When Chopper asked, he had run out of excuses and just complained about an injury until he made the little reindeer so worried he himself sent him to sleep. That wasn’t his most honorable move, really. Having an established relationship was sure a pain in the ass.
He knew, though. He was just delaying the inevitable. His and Zoro’s breakup was as imminent as Luffy stealing food from the refrigerator if he didn’t lock it up.
He did ditch him for a girl he didn’t know, after all. And he did try to leave the crew without having even said goodbye to him, too. And he did avoid talking about it for days even though Zoro had tried, knowing how hard it was for Sanji, to initiate that talk with him. He was so thoughtful, really, despite what anyone said about him.
Yeah, thoughtful. And dedicated, and protective and trustworthy. And sweet and gentle and caring when he allowed himself to be… And Sanji had completely blown everything off by running away from him, hadn’t he? No wonder he didn’t bother to try to drag his ass back to the ship like Luffy, Nami, Chopper and Brook had done.
He bit his lip, entering O-Toko’s late father’s house. He knew Zoro had come there to sleep without being disturbed, so he sighed when the thought of making things even worse by waking him up crossed his mind. It was too late to back out of it now, though, since he could already feel his soon-to-be-ex boyfriend’s stare aimed at him. Deadly and intense, just like he was.
“Ah, it’s just you,” he said, lowering Shuusui’s blade. His tone didn’t let out if he was relieved or disappointed, but he did lean his back on the wall now that he knew there was no threat coming at him.
“Yeah, it’s just me,” he answered, lighting a cigarette to ease his nervousness as he sat down in front of him— stiff as if he was waiting for Zoro to scold him.
They sat there in silence for a while, and Zoro waited without muttering a word until Sanji’s back stopped forming a perfect 90° angle with the floor and he was relaxed enough to start talking.
See? Thoughtful.
“Well?” The eyebrow of his good eye raised, he stared at him. Normally Sanji loved his piercing gaze, now he couldn’t even bring himself to meet it without wanting to run as far away as possible from it.
“What do you mean, ‘well’?” he replied, incredulous. “You know what I’m here for, don’t you?”
“I really don’t.” Was all that came out of his mouth. Sanji directed an annoyed look at him, his visible eyebrow twitched. Was game was he even playing? Or did he just not care about the brittle state of their relationship? Maybe they had already broken up, and Sanji just hadn’t realized it.
“Look, I know I messed up, okay? And I’m sorry, I really am.” Zoro listened, his face inscrutable. “But stop pretending not to know. If you’re gonna do it just fucking do it, moss head. C’mon.”
Against all odds, the swordsman smiled. It was tiny, and only one corner of his mouth lifted, but it was enough to make Sanji’s heart skip a beat. He thought he heard him murmur something along the lines of ‘finally, what the hell took you so long’ before his back and his cigarette were suddenly on the floor, Zoro’s lips were on his neck and he could feel the cold touch of his hands against his waist.
“W-wait! What are you doing?! You’re supposed to break up with me!” The blond shouted, maybe a little too loud, completely taken by surprise as he raised up a leg to serve as a wall between his and Zoro’s torsos. And by the look he gave him when he did that, Sanji honestly couldn’t tell which one of them was more confused about this whole situation right now.
“Break up— what are you…?” Brusquely, the green haired man’s only eye shot open, as if he had just realized something huge, and he jumped away from Sanji like he was on fire. And yes, he could set himself on fire once in a while if he wanted to, but right now he was as cold as the icy glare that was directed at him. “Did you fucking marry her?” he hissed, looking a lot like a pissed off wild animal.
“No!” Sanji yelled. And he wanted to be offended, but the truth wasn’t exactly on his side. “I… I almost do. They would kill all of you, if I didn’t. But no, I did not marry her.”
Zoro loosened up a little bit at that, but one could easily tell that he hadn’t fully lowered his guard yet. You could see it in the way his eyes squinted, in his heavy breathing and his hand unconsciously grabbing the handle of Wado, his oldest katana, even though he wasn’t gonna use it.
“Did you fall in love with her?” he spat, tightening his grip on the sword like a lifeline. “Because if you don’t have the balls to break up with me because of that and want me to do it for you, I’m telling you that that’s not gonna happen.”
They stared at each other’s eyes for a while then, unmoving, the only thing not looking like it was on pause being the faint smoke coming from the agonizing cigarette laying on the ground.
“I can’t love anyone but you, Zoro. Believe me when I say I tried,” he sentenced, looking almost sheepish as he lowered his gaze to the ground. “You’re supposed to break up with me because I’m the worst possible boyfriend there is on the whole stupid Grand Line, and because I would if I were you.”
At that, Zoro couldn’t help but laugh, clear and low, like a well-tuned musical instrument— earning an “I’ll kill you” look from Sanji. What, that’s what all this fuss was about? He couldn’t believe it.
“Good thing you’re not me, then, right?” he smiled, relaxing his body and releasing his hold on Wado. The blonde could feel his blood begin to boil at the same time that his heart began to race. A common reaction when talking to the swordsman, actually.
“You do realize I ditched you for a random girl.”
“It annoys the hell out of me that you didn’t trust us in this and tried to sacrifice yourself, yeah. But it all worked out in the end and you aren’t in love with her, so whatever.”
“…I fought Luffy, too.”
“I also fought Luffy once, no big deal.”
“And I put everyone at risk just to save the goddamn Germa.”
“You’re kind like that, I get it. Stop showing off.”
“Pfft,” he snorted, taking out another cigarette and giving him a fond smile. “You should really be angrier at me for this. I know I would kick your ass to the sky and beyond if you did something like that to me.”
And there he was, Zoro thought as he moved to sit beside him, turning his head to face him fully, the cook he knew. With his crystal eyes filled with dreams about the future— eyes that never lost hope in the wind and the sea no matter how terrifying they could be. Gentle irises that he had learned to pretend didn’t conceal beautiful, infinite kindness.
Zoro, unlike Sanji, wasn’t a man who held faith in much of anything. But damn if he wouldn’t trust his life in those eyes.
“Good thing you’re not me, then,” he repeated, and leaned closer. Pitch black seas mingling with bright blue skies, he took away his cigarette and kissed him like he had just realized how much he loved him. And in a way, he had. Every time he looked at him— properly looked at him, he could feel raw adoration pouring anew from every pore of his skin.
For his part, Sanji, of course, welcomed any and all of the feelings Zoro wanted to give him. Affection, longing, excitement, and even his remaining anger from when he first learned that the blonde had left. And in return, he offered him his desperation, his yearning, his hope and his joy of finally getting to be here with him, like this. For he was, too, hopelessly in love with those dark, wild eyes. So, so in love, that he would follow them to the depths of hell itself, if it meant he could steal a single glimpse of the warmth they so carefully hid.