Chapter Text
Sanji was pissed. This, in itself, was not novel, as he was often pissed. Pissed at rude customers, his idiotic coworkers, or his dictator of a boss and father figure. But today was kind of the opposite. He was pissed that he wouldn’t have those things anymore, because he’d just been fired.
“You’re not being fired, you knucklehead,” Zeff had yelled at him when he had demanded to know what he’d done to deserve this. “Stop being dramatic, you’re just being transferred. I know the owners and they’re desperate for a new head chef. Said they need someone who’s not just a good chef, but can run a kitchen and hold their own in a fight. I told them I knew someone who fit the bill.” Sanji blinked, stunned at the roundabout praise.
“Also it’ll get you out from under my feet,” now that sounded more like the shitty old man. “Now, the decision’s made and that’s that so get your stuff and get the hell out of my kitchen.” Zeff proved he was back to his usual self by kicking Sanji into the wall. He took the blow easily, years of practice making it second nature.
He didn’t kick back though, still too in shock from what he still couldn’t stop thinking of as “Fired”. His ex-boss was already halfway to the door when Sanji finally dragged himself up off the floor. “Oi, shitty old man,” he called. Zeff grumpily turned back, ready to kick him again rather than continue a pointless argument. “What’s the restaurant anyway?” Sanji asked, resigned to his fate. Zeff grinned. “It’s called Thousand Sunny. It’s over in the east city. Serves traditional Japanese mostly.”
Normally, Sanji would have been thrilled, japanese was one of his favorites to cook, but currently he was hung up on another part of that sentence. “Thousand Sunny?” he called incredulously, “the notorious mob hangout?!” Zeff just shrugged, “guess so. You’ll be fine. And they’re expecting you in an hour so get a move on.”
A move on. To his new job. Working for criminals. Great.
__________________________________________________________________________
Sanji was trying his best not to be really bored. He’d arrived at the restaurant just on time and had been introduced to the maitre’d, a nervous looking man who’d been assigned to show him around the place. Sanji had to concede it was a beautiful restaurant, with traditional japanese wall hangings and polished tables made of dark wood. However, he still had a chip on his shoulder about being assigned to the place without a choice and his tour guide was starting to grate on his nerves.
He chewed unhappily on his unlit cigarette. When he’d taken it out and moved to light it halfway through the tour, the irritating maitre’d had practically tackled him. “Sir,” the man informed harshly, “there is no smoking in the restaurant.” Sanji had acquiesced, but only because he didn’t feel like getting into a fight about it at the moment. He had no intention of never smoking in, what was essentially now, his restaurant.
At the moment though, he was wishing he had fought the man on it. The feeling of a cigarette between his lips was comforting but not as much as a hit of nicotine would have been.
They had just passed through the kitchen, which Sanji had grudgingly approved was up to even his high standards. The man was on some kind of rant about the owners, Sanji tuned him out and absently wondered if the man knew that he was working for the mob.
This area had been a hub for criminals for as long as anyone could remember. The town had a proper name, but no one used it. Everyone just called it the Grand Line because of all the trade and traffic that went through it. The city was divided into four boroughs, nicknamed for the cardinal directions they represented. Each section was unofficially controlled by a different organization, or crime family.
The west city was the stomping ground of a mysterious group of ex-government agents called CP9. The north city housed a pyramidal organization known as Baroque Works. The south city was a little more fluid and changed hands pretty often, though Sanji had heard rumors that a new contender was on the scene up there and that he was a serious player. Enel, or something like that.
And the east city, where he was now, was home to the Strawhat crime family. He’d never had anything to do with them personally. The Baratie, where he’d worked until this morning, was located in the north city and known for the fact that all of their staff were tough enough to take on any criminals that might think of taking advantage of the place. Now here he was, working for the restaurant that was the Strawhat’s base of operations.
Just then, he heard a disturbance in the back. Strange, he thought the place was empty except for a skeleton crew staff. The restaurant was closed today.
Sanji poked his head out of the kitchen, looking out past the empty restaurant to the occupied back room. The commotion originated there and Sanji ambled closer, stopping in the doorway. He didn't want to get involved, but he was certainly curious as to what was going to go down. He decided to watch quietly. If, for some reason, he needed to step in, he wasn't far.
A man was standing arrogantly in the middle of the room, staring down a figure stretched out in a large armchair. Sanji recognized the figure in the chair as the head of the crime family that owned this establishment. The man must be either very brave or very stupid.
Once the man spoke, Sanji realized there was a third option, very arrogant. "You're telling me this is the boss?" the man scoffed, oozing disbelief, "he's just a kid. I know petty crooks who could beat his ass." It was a dangerous thing to say to a Don who sat right in front of him.
It was true that the boss didn't look like much. He was thin and gangly and he wore his signature straw hat over his messy black hair. At the man's words, the boss just broke into a wide smile. "My name's Luffy. Nice to meet you." The man's jaw hit the floor and Sanji covered his mouth so he wouldn't laugh out loud and draw attention to himself.
Sanji could see where the man would misunderstand Luffy’s appearance, but Sanji knew better. He’d been around this type of world his whole life. People didn't rise to power in the mafia by accident. If someone was high up in the chain, you could be sure that they'd earned it. Especially if they didn't look like could handle it, because that meant they'd had to work twice as hard to get where they were. If Luffy was the head of this family, Sanji was sure he deserved to be. When playing on this level, judging by appearances was just going to get you killed.
Luffy, however, did not seem to be in a killing mood. He was still laughing at the dumbstruck man before him. Finally, the man broke out of his shock and the scowl that he had previously sported slipped back onto his face. “Whatever you’re doing, it won’t work,” he warned, “you don't scare me.” Luffy just looked confused, “What am I doing?” Sanji wondered if there was any way the guy was actually as dumb as he was acting. Surely it was just an act to mess with this moron in front of him. It certainly seemed to be working. The man was getting more and more shifty as he stared down Luffy’s smile.
“C’mon Luffy, get rid of him. We don't have time to play today,” the voice preceded the person as she stepped out. She’d been sitting towards the side, blocked from Sanji’s sight by Luffy’s big chair. Now that he was looking at her though, he didn't know how he'd ever missed her.
She was stunning. Her short red hair was twisted up in an elegant chignon so he could clearly see her delicate features. Her wide eyes and small mouth currently held only disdain for the loser in front of her, but he could just picture how her face would light up if she smiled. He could only imagine how it would feel if she actually smiled for him. A small voice in his head chose this moment to remind him that he’d recently sworn off girls after the debacle that was his last relationship. But damn, if she didn't look like someone worth breaking that promise for.
She tossed her head, flicking a small tendril of loose hair back into place. Luffy was pouting exaggeratedly and she seemed to be going out of her way not to look at him. “But Nami…” he whined piteously. She gave a small stomp, literally putting her foot down on the issue, “No. We have that thing, remember? The very, very important thing.” Now that Sanji looked, she did look like she was headed somewhere important, dressed in a short, tight navy dress and heels. Though, who knows, maybe she dressed like that every day. Sanji was certainly hoping so.
Luffy sighed dramatically. “Fine,” he turned back to the man, “you have to leave, we have to go to a-” He was cut off suddenly when Nami hit him very hard over the head. “Maybe don't tell the stranger our personal business, Luffy,” she recommended in a distinctly non-asking manner.
The man finally noticed Nami, giving her a long slow once over that had Sanji rolling up his sleeves to go deck the sucker. Nami noticed too, but just rolled her eyes. That is until she went to walk past him and his hand shot out, wrapping around her upper arm so she couldn't leave. She gave a small tug and he increased his pressure. Before Sanji could take a single step to intervene, he was beaten to the punch.
Luffy was between Nami and the stranger before Sanji even saw him move. He grabbed the man’s wrist with enough force that the man’s fingers involuntarily opened and Nami took a step away. Sanji couldn't see his face under the brim of his hat but he could feel the change come over him. Suddenly, the enthusiastic and lighthearted boy was replaced with a presence that radiated power and gravity. Sanji could feel his aura from where he stood and he had to resist the urge to take a step back.
Luffy tilted his head up and a sliver of light fell on his face. His grave expression aged him and deepened the curved scar under his eye. “Don’t touch her,” he warned, his low tone carrying raw threat. The man was practically quaking in his boots, obviously he was no longer under-estimating the boy based on his look.
“Luffy, stand down,” a new voice added itself to the mix. Had there really been another person in the room that Sanji had missed? He looked around but couldn't see anyone, following the sound of the voice into the very back corner of the room. There, in the shadows, a figure was stirring, rising up slowly. He must have been sitting on the floor, tucked out of sight.
The man stepped into the light as he continued to talk, “I’ll take care of this guy. I happen to like this place and if you fight, it’s going to get decimated.” Luffy’s face had lightened considerably when his friend had started talking. He now shrugged, conceding the point. “You always get to have all the fun,” he said with utter casualness, as if discussing where they might order a pizza from, “fine, he’s all yours, Zoro.” Luffy shrugged again and dropped his hold on the interloper, wandering over towards Nami.
Zoro. Was that what the new player’s name was? He was tall, all tan skin over sculpted muscles. There were several odd things about him that Sanji filed away for later consideration. Like that his spiky hair was shockingly green, or that at his waist he carried not one, but three swords in polished scabbards.
At the moment though he was totally distracted by the expression on the swordsman’s face. It was the most bloodthirsty thing Sanji had ever seen. His smile was like a mix between that of a wild animal and a demon. Unlike the other two, Zoro was everything you expected a gang member to be, someone you wouldn't want to come across alone in a dark alley.
Sanji’s view of what was shaping up to be a bloody murder was suddenly interrupted. The small maitre’d that had been giving him the tour was bouncing nervously in front of him obviously looking for his attention. “What?” Sanji asked, a little snappish at having been distracted. “I’m told you are an extraordinary fighter, is that right sir?” the worried looking man asked. Sanji didn't like to brag, but he couldn't lie either. He settled on a simple nod.
The maitre’d jumped from foot to foot so quickly he looked like he was dancing, “please sir, you have to stop them, they’ll destroy the place.” Sanji wondered if he’d been listening, “no, it’ll be fine. That green haired guy is going to fight so the boss doesn't break anything.” The maitre’d got even more distressed. “That won’t work, sir. The swordsman is as ridiculously powerful as the Don. They are both monsters. He will break this building in half without even trying. Please, you must stop him,” the man begged piteously.
Sanji rolled his eyes and sighed. He really, really didn't want to get involved in this. Getting between the swordsman and his prey seemed like a really good way to get killed, but the poor man sounded so desperate that Sanji couldn't say no to him. “Fine,” he muttered unhappily and started walking towards the gathered few, hands shoved in his pockets. He really hoped that this wouldn't turn into a horrible first impression.
By the time he got close enough to intervene, the swordsman was already swinging. He could see the light glinting off the edge of the blade and could tell without touching that it was wickedly sharp. Combined with the tight pull of the swordsman’s muscles, he could see that this was a ferocious swing. He was going for the kill. And if Sanji wanted to keep the maitre’d happy, and the restaurant standing, he was going to have to take it.
This is going to hurt, he had time to think before he was bringing his leg up so the metal of the sword hit his shoe instead of slicing through the idiot behind him who was still too frozen in fear to dodge. Shit! It hurt like a mother fucker. The blow reverberated up his leg and into his bones. He had to grit his teeth to keep his leg from shaking. Sure, the swordsman looked strong but this was another level. That damn maitre’d was right, that swing could level the place.
The swordsman noticed the tightening of Sanji’s jaw and smirked. “Too much for you?” he muttered, voice low and rough. Sanji smirked right back. Sure this bastard was strong but nothing he couldn't easily keep up with. He just hadn’t anticipated the power of the first swing.
He twisted his foot, dislodging the blade and swinging around immediately with a kick aimed at that stupid green hairline. Zoro caught his foot with crossed swords, grunting slightly on contact. The bastard was fast to have caught his attack, but he had obviously underestimated Sanji’s strength just like Sanji had underestimated him. Sanji leaned in, adding pressure to his foot, and repeated the other’s words, “too much for you?”
Zoro grinned wickedly and Sanji understood, feeling a bit of the same thing himself. It was a grin that said in a world where you were the strongest guy you knew, you finally found a decent sparring partner. The shared moment lasted about a second before they both came back to themselves.
Zoro remembered that some man he didn’t know was standing between him and the bastard he was trying to kill. Sanji remembered that the only thing between his throat and that guy’s lethal intent was his leg and while he was confident in his own strength and skill, that guy wasn’t playing around.
Zoro’s grin had shifted into a glare of open hostility. “Who the fuck are you?” Zoro growled from behind bared teeth. Before Sanji could answer Nami finally decided to step in. Apparently she and Luffy hadn’t left yet.
“Boys!” she commanded sharply, “knock it off.” Without releasing their glare, both men broke the power struggle, the force of it pushing them both back a few feet. Zoro sheathed his swords with a sharp snick of metal on metal and muttered disgruntledly under his breath, letting Nami know exactly what he thought of her ordering him around. Nami rolled her eyes, it was nothing she hadn’t heard before. Sanji lowered his foot, rolling his ankle slowly to stretch out the tension from the short fight.
Then he remembered a beautiful woman had just had to tell him off. Oh the shame! Instantly, he was down on bended knee in front of her, grabbing her hand and placing a gentle kiss upon it. “Oh my fair mademoiselle. I deeply apologize for having troubled your sweet heart. I was merely trying to deter this savage brute from destroying your beautiful restaurant.” Nami’s eyebrows had shot up into her hairline. Women were often surprised at his gallant behavior, a testament to how few gentlemen were truly left in the world.
Zoro snorted incredulously and Sanji shot him a brief scathing look before returning his attention to the gorgeous Nami. She smiled at him, but extracted her hand from his. Her eyes finally landed on the maitre’d dancing back and forth in place and the pieces fell into place. “You must be the new head chef,” she deduced. He beamed at her cleverness and stood to do a proper introduction.
He bowed low, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. You may call me Sanji.” She shook his hand and Sanji awkwardly felt like he’s just signed a business deal rather than met a person. “Zeff told me he was sending someone over, I just didn't expect you so soon,” she said formally. Sanji froze, “you know the old man?” Something about her smile was a little too calculating. Unbidden, he got a mental image of Nami and Zeff huddled in a back room cackling and scheming at his expense.
He shook the image away, that was ridiculous. Nami was a beautiful lady, she would never do such a thing.
Suddenly, Sanji realized that something had latched onto his waist. He looked down and realized that the something was a someone. Luffy had wrapped his long arms around the cook’s waist and was looking up at him with wide eyes. “You’re a cook?” he asked wonderingly.
“Yes,” Sanji said grumpily, “I believe I just said that.” He attempted to pry the boy off but he couldn’t get his leg up high enough to get a decent kick off. The boy only gripped tighter, practically scaling the cook’s body. “Sanji! Feed me!” he cried almost desperately. He sounded like he hadn’t eaten in days which Sanji knew wasn’t true because he’d seen the other chefs send a lunch out to the back room less than an hour ago when he’d been touring the kitchen.
Sanji tried to recoil but it was impossible with the kid clinging to him. “Get off me, asshole,” Sanji growled. A small part of him knew rationally that this was a dangerous man and his boss, but at the moment he was just an irritating kid. Sanji looked to Nami for help, but Nami was smirking, offering no assistance. Apparently, this kind of thing happened a lot.
Desperate, Sanji turned his gaze to Zoro, not really expecting anything. Zoro rolled his eyes but wandered over anyway. He grabbed Luffy by the scruff of his shirt, bracing himself by putting his hand on Sanji’s chest so he could separate the two. Obviously, he had experience prying Luffy off of his unfortunate victims. Now normally, Sanji was against men touching his chest but since it was between that and having Luffy surgically attached to him, he decided it was by far the lesser of two evils.
Besides, Zoro’s hand was solid and warm and much more comfortable than the human suction cup he was currently sporting. Zoro gave one last sharp tug and Luffy came free with an almost audible ‘pop’. The force was considerable and Sanji stepped back a step to compensate. Luffy hung pitifully from Zoro’s grip, pouting. “Meanie Zoro,” Luffy whined, “I’m hungry!”
Before that line of complaint could be continued, there was another commotion. The front door slammed open and voices, one loud and one soft, floated towards the back room. The two people appeared around the corner a moment later. The first person was a beautiful girl. She was pale with soft blond hair and a billowy white dress. Despite her slight figure, she was supporting the guy she was with, who looked a wreck.
Sanji supposed that mobsters must get into fights a lot, but he had no idea why this beautiful blond was stuck being used as a crutch. He was all ready to storm over to tell the loser leaning on her off, not to mention introduce himself to the loser’s female companion, but Nami got there first and he felt it would be rude to interrupt her.
“Kaya,” she called excitedly, catching sight of the girl and greeting her like an old friend, “it’s been too long. How are you?” She had thrown her arms out for a hug as she approached and upon reaching her friend she threw her arms around her, casually dislodging the injured guy’s arm and dropping him unceremoniously to the ground. Even though Sanji had been planning to do something similar, Nami’s cold treatment of someone she obviously knew almost made him wince.
Kaya glanced at the guy on the ground, obviously concerned, but Nami waved it away before Kaya could even voice it. Nami pulled the other girl towards a table on the side where they could sit. She talked animatedly and Kaya responded to her questions gently, looking over her shoulder at the injured guy every few seconds.
“Oi, Usopp,” Zoro called out to the lump, “you alive?” Usopp, which must be the lump’s name, stirred piteously on the floor to prove he was alive. Zoro walked over and rolled the guy over with his foot. The man had dark skin, curly hair, and appeared to be wearing some sort of cape. He was covered in dark bruises and his long nose was crushed and bent.
Luffy ran over, laughing. “Hey Usopp! What’s up? You get in a fight again?” he laughed like he was saying something hilarious as he slammed his friend on the shoulder. Sanji wondered if the boss understood things like injury and pain. It seemed not.
Zoro stepped in, hauling Luffy off of someone for the second time that day. It seemed the enthusiastic mafioso had trouble understanding personal space. Zoro held him by the back of his shirt as he ran in place trying to escape. Finally, Luffy gave up and dropped with a huff, sitting cross legged on the ground. Zoro maintained a casual grip on his collar to make sure he stayed put.
While Usopp panted on the floor, Zoro leaned over him, “last chance to throw in the towel and just be dead.” Sanji was faintly horrified, but Usopp seemed to take it in stride. He pointed up at the ceiling victoriously, the pose ruined by his horizontal position. “Ha!” he cried loudly, “like anything could ever kill the great...Captain Usopp!” Sanji rolled his eyes, this guy was insane. Zoro seemed to share his sentiments, but was too used to it to comment.
“You asked for it,” Zoro grumbled under his breath. He turned around and raised his voice, “Chopper! Get out here!” He directed his rude summons to the back of the room where a door led to what Sanji assumed were offices. The tour hadn’t made it that far yet.
The door cracked open and a head popped out. It was a boy, only 12 or 13, with wild light brown curls and big, shining eyes. This must be Chopper, but Sanji couldn’t imagine why he’d been called. “Usopp’s hurt,” Zoro informed the kid, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to point at the injured guy.
Chopper flew through the doorway and raced to Usopp. “Oh my goodness,” Chopper cried hysterically, “he’s hurt. Doctor! We need a doctor.” He was panicking, flailing his arms until Zoro dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder to ground him. “Chopper, calm down,” Zoro instructed gently, “you’re a doctor.”
What?! The kid barely looked old enough to be in high school, let alone graduated from medical school, but Chopper calmed down. “Right, right,” Chopper murmured, taking a deep breath. Instantly the panicked boy was gone and in his place was a collected professional. He prodded at Usopp gently, taking his pulse and humming thoughtfully.
“I need my medical bag,” he announced. Zoro looks critically at Luffy, “if I let you go can you go get Chopper’s medical bag and come back without getting distracted?” Luffy nodded and saluted comically, “aye aye!” Zoro released him and he scampered off through the door Chopper had come through.
He returned almost immediately, lugging a bag that was almost as big as the kid doctor himself. He dumped it next to Chopper who immediately started rummaging through it, pulling out one unidentifiable instrument, using it for a minute, before diving back into the bag and pulling out another. The entire time his face was focused and serious.
Sanji turned to Nami with his eyebrows raised. He was trying to figure out how to ask why there was a child practicing medicine without offending or distracting the boy in question. Nami seemed to understand and gestured him over to the table she and Kaya were sharing. He approached and lowered his voice so as not to disturb the others.
“So...Chopper?” he asked tentatively, not sure how to phrase his question. She nodded. Obviously, she had had this conversation before and knew what he was thinking. Nami-san was wise as well as beautiful. “He’s a prodigy,” she explained, “his guardian who taught him medicine is too old to take care of him now so she left him here with us. He knows more than any doctor in a hospital, but no one will hire him because he’s a minor. Luffy took him in and now he helps out here. Luffy has a habit of taking in strays.”
Sanji looked over at the huddled group of Zoro, Chopper, and Usopp and could see what Nami meant. They were a weird group, for sure. Loathe to leave the ladies, but curious about the tiny doctor’s process, Sanji thanked Nami quietly and wandered back over.
After a few more minutes of careful diagnostics, Chopper shut the bag and turned to Zoro to report. Sanji wondered why Chopper wasn’t reporting to Luffy and that’s when he realizes that Luffy was no longer waiting patiently with the rest of them. He’d snuck around the group and was now trying to break past the maitre’d, whom Sanji had honestly completely forgotten about, to get to the kitchen. Sanji sighed. When the fuss settled down out here, maybe he’d go make him something.
He turned back to hear Chopper’s prognosis. “He’s going to be fine. There’s no concussion or internal bleeding. All the wounds are fairly superficial.” Usopp chose that moment to groan and open his eyes. Chopper was instantly in his face, “Usopp, how are you feeling?” Zoro cut in before he could answer, “how’d you get so hurt, moron?” Usopp sat up more seriously, preparing to tell his story.
“Well, I had just saved a kitten from a burning building and I come out and suddenly I’m surrounded by ten, no, fifty huge men! They said to come with them, but I said that no one apprehends the famous Captain Usopp.” Sanji rolled his eyes, who would believe such obvious lies?
“So I took out the first ten with my famous jiu jitsu technique.” “You know jiu jitsu? That’s so cool!” Chopper’s eyes were shining. That answered that question. Chopper believed lies like that.
Usopp continued, “the next twenty were harder, they had huge broadswords,” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Nami interrupted, “nobody in this city is stupid enough to fight with swords except Zoro.” Sanji’s eyes instantly snapped to the three swords on Zoro’s hip. Sanji didn’t know if the swordsman was stupid, he probably outclassed every thug in the city with those things.
“Actually, lots of the mafiosos in this city fight with swords,” Zoro grumbled quietly, but Nami silenced him with a quick hand. “Whatever. You know what I mean.”
Usopp was about to continue his story but Nami decided that she was finished indulging him. She leaned towards Kaya across the table. “Tell us what actually happened, Kaya,” she said loudly. Kaya chuckled, “I’m afraid the only fight Usopp-san got into was with two flights of stairs.”
“Kaya!” Usopp whined, sounding betrayed. She looked at him guiltily, “my apologies, I did not want your friends to be worried.” Usopp’s unhappy expression melted into a reluctant smile. Apparently, he couldn’t stay mad at the pretty blond. Sanji smiled privately, those two were obviously crazy about each other.
Nami sighed deeply and stood. “Alright, not that this hasn’t been super fun,” she rolled her eyes at Usopp, “and Kaya, I really would love to stay and talk longer, but Luffy and I really do have somewhere to be.” On hearing his name, Luffy bounced over to the exasperated redhead. “Where are we going? Is there going to be food? Because I’m hungry! Sanji, feed me!”
She ignored him and looked over to Sanji. “Sanji, it was nice to meet you. Please make yourself at home.” “Aye, Nami-san!” he swooned, she was so kind. “Zoro!” she called to the swordsman, who was in the process of teasing Usopp for getting so hurt falling down stairs. “Can you put the prisoner into one of the back rooms?”
He looked at her, totally confused, “what prisoner?” “What do you mean, what prisoner? The one who’s standing right…” her voice dropped off as they all turned to look at the prisoner. Or more accurately, the empty space that the prisoner had been occupying last anyone checked. Nami let out a (dignified) shriek. “Where the hell did he go? Zoro! Why weren’t you watching him?”
Zoro crossed his arms and glared at her. “Why is this my fault? I was helping this idiot,” he pointed at Usopp, who appeared to be trying to turn invisible so as not to be dragged into a fight between Zoro and Nami. “If it was so important you could have watched him yourself, witch.” “How dare you talk to Nami-san like that, you asshole,” Sanji interjected, readying a kick.
They both turned on him, Nami beating Zoro to the punch. “Sanji! You should have been watching him too! What have you been doing?” He spun across the room to her and dropped low before her, “my deepest apologies. I was distracted by your heavenly beauty. I am ever your faithful servant. If you command it, I shall-” She stopped him with a raised hand.
“Whatever. Zoro, go check the back rooms. Most likely he’s long gone by now but maybe he got lost and decided to just take a nap in a storage room. Though who am I kidding? Only you would do something brainless like that.”
Zoro grumbled but disappeared into the back anyway. Nami continued, “I’m going to call and reschedule Luffy and my meeting. I don’t want to leave when there’s a chance that that guy might come back. Sanji, can you make something? Luffy’s bloody useless when he’s like this.” Sanji glanced behind her to see Luffy, lying prone in a puddle of drool muttering aimlessly. The only words Sanji could pick up were “food”, “hungry”, and “Sanji”.
Man, what a useless boss, Sanji thought. But Nami’s wish was his command. “Right away, Nami-san!” he sang out while pushing through the swinging doors into the kitchen, trying to figure out what to make that would fill Luffy up without spoiling his dinner.
As Sanji was soon to learn, it was a naive thought. When he exited the kitchen a few minutes later with a plate of snacks for Luffy, Nami laughed in his face. She put the light plate of food in front of Kaya, saying she should eat. “A snack for Luffy is like full dinners for ten starving men,” she informed him, “please try again. And don’t worry about taste or presentation, he’s just going to inhale it anyway.”
As Sanji would soon learn they were words of wisdom, obviously cultivated from years of experience.
__________________________________________________________________________
The restaurant was closed on Mondays so Sanji had been planning on grabbing his stuff and getting out of there once the introductions and Luffy’s monstrous feeding were done. However, as he was leaving, he made the mistake of asking, just in passing, what Nami was doing for dinner. The intent had been to lure her to a restaurant or, even better, his home, with the promise of a fabulous meal.
“Oh, we’ll probably just order something from Whiskey Peak,” she said breezily, unaware of the reaction Sanji was having to her words. His eye was twitching and he drew deeply on his cigarette to calm himself down. “Whiskey Peak?” he bit out incredulously, “Why on earth would you go there?” The lack of profanity was only managed because he was speaking to a lady. Whiskey Peak was half bar-half restaurant, and 100% seedy. Their food was poor and there was no pride in their establishment. Sanji hated them.
Nami raised her eyebrows at his tight words. “They deliver, they’re cheap, they can make enough food to satisfy Luffy, and they don’t care who their customers are,” she ticked off the reasons off on her fingers. Sanji gnawed on his cigarette, those were some decent reasons. Still, there was no way he could let the lovely Nami and Kaya eat that swill. “Fine,” he said, rolling up his sleeves, “I’ll make you guys dinner.” It was going on five now, he’d have to get started soon to make as much as he thought he’d need and still have dinner done at a decent time.
“You?” The inquiry came from the idiot swordsman who Sanji had thought was asleep. “Yeah, you shitty bastard, me. So be grateful about it,” Sanji retorted before turning back to Nami, “consider it my audition.” She inclined her head, agreeing to the terms. Sanji turned back the way he’d come, to the kitchen, to make something so good that even the moron swordsman would have to admit the quality.
__________________________________________________________________________
An hour and a half later, Sanji dusted off his hands, tired but proud. As dinner time had approached, he’d kicked everyone out of the back room. Nami and Kaya he’d asked politely, the boys, he’d informed violently. They had disappeared into the offices and rooms in the back where they all presumably had somewhere to go.
Sanji had dragged all the scattered, little tables together to make one long, proper table. The table was currently set with one of the most beautiful and mouth-watering meals Sanji had ever made. It was an audition for the beautiful Nami-san after all and Sanji wanted to put his best foot forward. He looked it over one last time, confirming everything was perfect.
Finding that it was, Sanji turned to the back. “Nami-san! Kaya-chan! Your fabulous dinner of love is ready! And the rest of you bastards can get out here too,” he hollered, his voice switching tones halfway through.
Luffy was, unsurprisingly, the first one through the door. “Food!” he cried desperately and attempted to dive bomb the table. Luckily, Nami, who’d been right on his heels, managed to snag the back of his shirt, dragging him back down to earth. Zoro, Usopp, and Chopper filed in behind them and everyone took their seats.
Sanji looked around unhappily, “where is Miss Kaya?” The question had been directed at Nami, but it was Usopp who answered. “She went home. She’s in medical school and she has a test coming up so she went to go study. She was really only here earlier to drop me off.” Sanji’s heart fell. Half the good company had left and now it was just him, Nami, and the animals.
Speaking of which, as he’d been talking, the others had started eating. Sanji watched in horror as his immaculate spread was ransacked by the rude ingrates seated around the table. Luffy was grabbing everything he could reach and shoving it into his mouth faster than it was physically possible to eat. Even Patty and Carne, whose manners Sanji had always complained about at the Baratie, ate better than this. Luffy reached across the table, taking food indiscriminately from serving platters and the other’s plates.
When his hand drifted too close to Zoro’s food, the swordsman impaled his steak knife in the table less than an inch from Luffy’s wandering fingers, his eyes never leaving his plate. Sanji knew a warning shot when he saw it and had no delusions that the swordsman hadn’t missed on purpose.
Luffy seemed to share his thoughts and his hand dolefully retreated. Zoro pulled his hand back to his food, but the knife remained, vertically suspended in the wood.
The other boy’s manners were a little better than their boss’, but not by much. Zoro used silverware sparingly (except when he was using it to fend off Luffy), shoveled food in his mouth, and washed it down with alcohol right out of the bottle. Usopp had launched into another obviously fabricated epic, eating at the same time and spraying bits of food with every word.
Chopper was obviously trying to eat neatly, which endeared the young boy to Saji somewhat, but it was clear his only role models were these barbarians. He gasped in response to something Usopp said and his fork froze halfway to his mouth. Luffy snatched it out of his hand without him even noticing. As he kept eating mechanically, eyes riveted on Usopp, he just grabbed the food with his fingers.
Sanji was appalled by the scene before him. Like a car crash though, he couldn't look away. He looked to Nami desperately. She was his island in this sea of madness. She, at least, was using her silverware and napkin, though she was eating rather hurriedly. Sanji was quickly realizing that at table with Luffy, that was the only way you got anything. He was grateful he’d had the foresight to leave himself a plate of food in the kitchen.
Luffy reached for Nami’s meal and Sanji kicked him in the face as a deterrent. Nami wouldn’t have to defend her own food, not while her prince was here. The kick had been strong enough to break bones but Luffy just laughed it off and turned to pillage from Usopp instead. Sanji didn’t care. That long nosed idiot could defend his own food.
Realizing that her food was safe for the moment, Nami looked up at him. Sanji was sure that any moment now the confession of gratitude and love was going to come pouring out of her mouth. “Sanji, this is really good,” she said gesturing to her plate with her fork. He beamed at her. It may not be a confession of love, but it was certainly a close second in his book.
He bowed low and immediately began extolling her many virtues, claiming to be too lowly to even stand in her presence. If his meager food had brought her even a scrap of happiness, then he was satisfied. He lost track of his exact words, he was giddy from her praise, and the compliments were second nature.
Luffy nodded and managed to garble around a ridiculous mouthful of food, “it’s delicious!” Though Sanji was translating since it actually came out sounding like “iss dewichish” which certainly wasn’t any kind of english Sanji understood. Usopp and Chopper agreed with their boss, Chopper smiling happily and declaring the meal one of the best he ever ate. Sanji thanked them all, even though he took Luffy’s praise with a grain of salt because the man had no actual standards.
Only Zoro remained silent. Not that Sanji needed compliments from everyone he cooked for, but he found it irked him that the swordsman was the only one that said nothing. He stood behind him and put on his most saccharine voice, “so marimo-kun, what do you think of my food?”
He was honestly expecting to be completely ignored, but Zoro stopped eating and turned all the way around in his chair so he was looking up at Sanji. Though he did take the precaution of keeping an arm curled around his plate to protect it from Luffy. Sanji wondered if that was proof that he liked it or just an instinctual survival mechanism the swordsman had acquired.
“Marimo?” Zoro questioned, his voice straining to keep its usual cold neutrality. “Yeah,” Sanji grinned, “it’s a japanese moss ball and you happen to have some growing out of your head.” Zoro growled. “I know what a marimo is, shit-cook.” “Ooh, someone got there before I did, huh? I knew it was too good a nickname to be original,” Sanji retorted.
Zoro took a deep calming breath through his nose, “whatever, moron. Just let me get back to my meal in peace.” Sanji had been distracted for a second by that brilliant new insult that had just rolled off his tongue, but Zoro’s words reminded him what he had been asking about to begin with.
“Oi, you never said what you thought about my food,” Sanji pushed. Zoro sighed, “what’s to say. It’s food.” And with that he went back to eating and drinking like he was starving and it was a race to see who could shovel the most food down the fastest. Sanji’s eye twitched. There were so many things wrong with that sentence. It wasn’t just food. Sanji’s food was never just food. He poured his heart and soul into every meal he made. Obviously, the idiot marimo was too dumb to know good food even when it was literally under his nose. Sanji would just have to beat it into him then.
Lucky for Zoro, it appeared the swordsman had eyes in the back of his head. It took the same amount of time for Sanji to raise his leg and slam it down with the force of a guillotine as it did for Zoro to unsheath one of his swords and bring it over his head to intercept the blow before it hit. Sanji was impressed, though he already knew the swordsman well enough to know that his kick, which would have been enough to crush the skull of and kill a normal person, would only have bruised Zoro and maybe given him a bit of a headache.
“Oi, cook,” Zoro groused, “leave me alone to finish my crappy meal in peace.” “Crappy?!” Sanji saw red as Zoro’s indifference shifted into insults. He swung his leg around, ready to slam Zoro off his chair, but once again, his opponent was ready. Zoro jumped up and turned neatly, blocking the kick with his cupped palms.
Now upright and annoyed, Zoro went on the offensive with a series of quick punches that Sanji easily avoided by bending back out of reach. This was too easy. Was Zoro playing with him? Oh, he’d teach that irritating bastard.
The fight lasted for half an hour and the only reason that the food hadn’t been ruined was that Luffy had finished off the last of it in the first five minutes of their brawl.
Later, Sanji sat at the little table in the kitchen by himself, having just finished his own dinner. He was still stewing about Zoro. That shitty moron got under Sanji’s skin like no one else ever had. And it wasn’t just him that had Sanji chain smoking in his kitchen when he should have been going home. It was this whole fucking place.
First the confrontation with that stranger, then Usopp wandering in half-dead, and then the debacle that was dinner and his fight with Zoro. Sanji didn’t know how he was going to stand working here. Only one day and he could already feel his sanity and good sense slipping away. These people, with the exception of Nami-san, were all completely insane. And even she wasn’t quite the same as the sweet, shy, upper class ladies that would come to the Baratie for lunch, not that she wasn’t an absolute goddess.
There was only one thing for it. He would just ignore them all as much as physically possible. He would talk to them as little as possible, with the exception of Nami-san of course. Besides, she was the manager of the restaurant so she was the only one he actually had to speak to anyway.
It couldn’t be that hard. Just stay out of their business, don’t talk to them, do his job, and go home. Maybe after a little while of this purgatory Zeff would have pity and let him come back to the Baratie. He just had to last until then. Easy.