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He woke up next to a pond and had no idea where he was or why he was there.
Actually, now that he was thinking about it, he realized he didn’t know who he was either, his entire memory was blank. He tried to remember some tidbit, but came up empty. Nada. Zilch.
Odd.
Nothing like this had ever happened to him before, he thought. Of course he didn’t know for sure since he couldn’t remember anything before this moment, but complete and total memory loss couldn’t be normal. Or maybe this was a common occurrence for him, and that was why he wasn’t freaking out more than he maybe should be.
He should probably head back. Head back to where though? Town? Was there a town nearby? He glanced around, but there was only forest. But he had to come from somewhere, right? It wasn’t like he came from the pond.
He looked over at the pond, just to be sure. It looked like a standard pond, a few lily pads and leaves floating along the surface, but no fish. No frogs or bugs either.
He shuddered at the thought of bugs. Did he hate bugs? He was disappointed by the lack of fish, so did he like fish?
Whatever. He didn’t come from the pond, so there must be a town nearby.
He sighed as he stood up and put his hands in his pockets. Then he realized he had pockets, and pockets could have stuff in them, and that stuff could tell him something about himself.
He started with his suit jacket. The outside pockets had a pack of cigarettes that was half empty and a lighter, so he lit one and put it in his mouth, sucking down the smoke. It all seemed natural, so he guessed he was a smoker.
The breast pocket had a grocery list with most of the items crossed off, a book of matches for a place called the Mulin’s Rogue with a number written on the inside flap, and a slightly crumpled doodle of an ocean full of fish.
His pants pockets turned up an old pocket watch with waves etched on the back, a receipt for fifty thousand berris worth of meat from someone named Jack, and some lint.
He stared at the watch. It looked important, like a memento someone would have to remind them of someone or something important, but it meant nothing to him.
He frowned as he put everything back in his pockets. The matches and the receipt pointed to him having been in a town at some point, so his best bet was to try and find that town and figure out what he’d been up to.
And then what? He had no memories, no plans. Essentially, he was no one.
He shrugged. He’d figure it out later.
It took some wandering, but he eventually stumbled on a town near the coast. As he approached, the man standing guard spotted him and smiled.
“So you didn’t go through with it, huh?”
“Go through with what?” he asked.
“Oh,” the man’s smile fell, and he sighed, “Nothing. Never mind. Enjoy your time at Port Oldham, sir.”
He stepped aside and let him pass.
The town was bustling in the morning sunshine. The markets were open and packed with fruits and vegetables of all sorts, vendors shouting out their wares as he passed.
He paused, and pulled out his grocery list. Eggs were at the top crossed out, and there was a lady selling eggs nearby.
“Excuse me,” he said as he approached her, “Did I buy eggs from you before?”
“If you got bad eggs then no, absolutely not,” she scoffed, “You must have gotten them from that recipe stealing bitch Helen. She raises sad, miserable chickens on her sad, miserable farm. If you eat bad eggs from sad chickens, then you feel sad.” She gestured at the eggs on display, “I only sell happy eggs from happy chickens. If you eat them, you’ll feel happy, guaranteed.”
“I don’t have a complaint about the eggs,” he assured her, “I’m just trying to retrace my steps.”
“Oh,” she frowned, “How should I know? My eggs are very popular. I sell a lot because they’re so good. I can’t remember every person I sold eggs to.” She waved him off, “If you’re not buying, then go away. You’re blocking the merchandise.”
As he backed away from the stand, he spotted a sign for a Jack’s Butchers. He replaced the grocery list with the meat receipt and stepped inside.
“Oh, no. No,” the large man behind the counter said as soon as he spotted him, “Not you again.”
Great, he had been here. “I just-”
“I don’t care. No,” he shook his head, “You wiped out my entire stock last time. I have regulars in this town that need to eat too!”
“I understand. I just need-”
“I don’t care what you need,” he crossed his arms, “I don’t care how cute your boyfriend is or what he’s the Meat Inspector General of.”
He blinked, “My boyfriend?”
“Or whatever he is to you.” He slammed a hand on the counter, “I have nothing more to sell you. I’ll have someone bring by the rest of your order to your goddman pirate ship tonight.” He shook his head and laughed, “You buy me out of stock, have me deliver it to a fucking pirate ship, then have the balls to come back and ask for more?”
“I was just looking for my boyfriend,” he tried, “Have you seen him?”
“No. Check your damn ship.” He nodded at the door, “And get out of my store.”
He wanted to ask him more questions, like where his ship was or who his alleged boyfriend was, but the man was ornery enough as it was, and he didn’t want his cluelessness about things he should have known make it worse.
So he left the butcher with a nod and a “Thank you.”
Back out on the street, he wandered around, passing by the various shops and stores. After wandering around for about an hour, he finally found a sign for Mulin’s Rogue and stepped inside.
It turned out to be a bar. The place was poorly lit and covered in dirt and grime with more than a few broken chairs and tables scattered about. Since it was still morning, the place was empty, just a few dedicated day drinkers and one person passed out at a table.
The older woman behind the bar caught sight of him and smiled, “So you make up with that boyfriend of yours or what?”
“I, uh,” he glanced at the low cut of her shirt, blushed, and looked away, “I’m not sure.”
Her smile fell, “Don’t tell me you actually did it, did you?”
“Did what?”
“Drink the pond water.”
He shrugged at the unfamiliar saying and smiled sheepishly, “Maybe?”
“Oh,” she sighed and shook her head, “You poor bastard.”
“I must confess,” he said as he stepped further into the place, “I am a bit confused.”
“I’ll bet you are,” she pulled a bottle out from behind the bar and poured him a drink, “Here. Tell me the last thing you remember.”
He sat down and picked up a drink. It smelled like whiskey, and it burned as it went down, “That’s the thing. I don’t remember anything.”
“Oh, sugar,” she shook her head again, “You went and drank too much.”
He swirled his glass, “Whiskey?”
“Pond water.”
“Can you start at the beginning?” He said as he set the whiskey down, “Since you seem to know what’s going on. Maybe tell me my name, for starters?”
“Oh,” her eyes went wide, “You drank way too much pond water.”
She sighed and continued, “I didn’t catch your name, sugar. You came in here last night moping about a guy you lost. The way you were going on, I’d assumed he’d died until he came in here looking for you. You two got into it, I couldn’t hear about what, and then he stormed out. You said something about wanting to forget the whole thing, and that’s when Felipe, one of our regulars here, told you about the Pond of Forgetting.”
“Pond of Forgetting?”
“It’s a local legend,” she explained, “Not legend as in it’s a story or a fairy tale, but legend as in it’s been around since always. There’s a pond in the forest on the outskirts of town and if you drink from it when the moonlight hits it, you’ll forget.”
“Forget what?”
“Everything, if you drink enough,” she nodded at him, “Clearly.”
“Wait, so when you said ‘drink the pond water,’ you meant actual water from an actual pond?” He cringed at the thought of drinking pond water, “It wasn’t a euphemism?”
“Yup,” she nodded, “I mean, the townsfolk do use it as a euphemism for drinking too much. Like, ‘he drank too much pond water last night and can’t find his wedding ring.’ But in your case it was the actual pond water.”
He stared down at the drink. What was so bad that he wanted to forget everything? Did he even want to know who he was?
“I told you not to go, I warned you. Running away from your problems like that only makes them worse,” she shook her head, “But you seemed dead set on it. I gave you my number here in case you needed help.”
“Oh,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out the matches, “This?”
“Yeah,” she sighed, “So much good that did you.”
He replaced the matches, and his fingers brushed against a paper. He pulled out the doodle and stared at it again.
“You still have that?” she asked.
He turned it to her so she could see it properly, “Do you know what it is?”
“An ocean, right?” She shrugged, “It’s why I thought your boyfriend was dead at first. You kept staring at it and calling it the love of your life, so I assumed he was buried at sea.”
“Huh.” He looked at it again. It was pretty unremarkable as far as most things went, so why did he have it? Why did he keep it in his breast pocket?
He shrugged and put it back in his pocket.
“Do you know who my boyfriend was?” He asked hesitantly. If he drank shitty pond water to forget him, should he even find him? But what were his other options, stay here and make a new life for himself in this town? That didn’t sit right with him.
“Nope, he was a stranger here, just like you,” she said as he cleaned a glass. “He was cute though, curly hair, long nose. A bit shorter than you, but he sure had some muscles on him.”
The door to the bar opened, a thin strip of light cutting across the bar.
“Oh,” she nodded towards the door, “There he is.”
He turned a saw the man she’d just described standing in the doorway. He tried to come up with some emotions or memories to associate with him, but came up empty. He was no one to him, a stranger.
“I’ve been looking for you all day,” the man said, annoyed, “Have you been here, all night?”
“No,” he said, tapping his fingers on the bar, “I just got here.”
“Yeah, sure,” he rolled his eyes, “Whatever.”
“Be nice to him, huh,” the bartender said, “He drank too much pond water.”
He looked at her in confusion, “I don’t know what that means. Is that like a drink or something?”
“It’s actual pond water,” he answered, “Apparently. Drank some magic pond water and now I can’t remember shit.”
The man glared at him, “Stop joking around. It’s almost lunchtime and Luffy hasn’t had breakfast yet. He’ll waste away soon.”
“Then he should eat something,” he turned back around, “Not my problem.”
“Not your...” He sat down in the stool next to him, “I know you’re mad at me, but it’s not like you to take it out on Luffy. Are you okay?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” he shrugged, “I told you, I don’t remember anything. I drank the pond water. I don’t know who you are or who Luffy is or why I should care.”
His eyes grew wide and he turned to the bartender, “Uh, excuse me, Ma’am? What is he talking about?”
She sighed, and told him the legend of the Pond of Forgetting.
“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” he asked him when she was done, “You drank pond water? To forget?”
He shrugged, “I guess. I don’t really have a mind anymore to be out of.”
“You don’t remember anything?”
“Nope,” he popped the last syllable and finished the whiskey.
“What about Nami, you don’t even remember your wonderful, beautiful Nami?”
He tried to imagine a face to go with the name, but got nothing. He shook his head, and the man’s face went pale.
“Hey, uh,” he turned back to the bartender, “Is there a way to get his memory back? Like, more pond water or something.”
He chuckled, “Oh, what, like there’s just some magical second pond somewhere that undoes the effects of the first?”
“There is, yeah,” she said. “The Pond of Remembrance up in the mountains helps people remember what they’ve forgotten. You just have to drink it while the sunlight hits it.”
“Okay, great,” the man said as he stood up, “So let’s go get you some of that pond water.”
“Forget it,” he said, scrunching his face, “I’m not drinking pond water.”
The man’s eye twitched, “You drank the first pond water apparently. Why won’t you drink the second?”
“I don’t even remember drinking the first pond water,” he said with a shrug, “Maybe I drank so damn much to forget the experience of drinking shitty pond water. Why would I put myself through that again?”
His fists started shaking, “So you’re just going to live the rest of your life like this? No memories, no goals, no idea who you are or where you’re going?”
“Maybe,” he shrugged.
“That’s no way to live, and you know it.” He angrily stomped out of the bar, but turned back and gave him one last look before he left.
He stared down at the bar and played with the empty glass. He could have had goals and dreams before, a drive, something to exist for. Now he was nothing, just a blank slate on a blank world filled with nothing.
He was right; this was no life to live.
He ran out of the bar after him.
The man was still there, leaning on the outside of the bar, and glanced up when he stepped.
“You, waited?” He asked, unsure.
He nodded, “I know you. You may have tried to forget, but you’re not the kind of person to waste their life here.”
Something in his chest relaxed at that. It was nice that even when he had no idea who he was, at least someone did.
“Uh, so,” he pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, “Since you know me so well, what’s my name?”
He chuckled and said, “Sanji.”
Sanji. He turned the name over in his mind, trying to attach some meaning or purpose or familiarity to it, but there was nothing. It was just a name, just a string of sounds that could have referred to anyone.
“Mine’s Usopp, by the way,” he continued.
“Usopp,” he said out loud. The name rolled off his tongue easily, “It suits you.”
“It better, it’s the only one I got,” he laughed and reached down to grab his hand on reflex, but froze when he touched it and let go, “C’mon, let’s get you some pond water.”
“Why did we fight?” He asked Usopp as the climbed up the mountain path, “Last night, she said we fought.”
“Oh, it’s dumb,” he answered, “Especially now that I know you tried to wipe it from your memory.”
“Uh-huh,” he glanced around, “Are we really together?”
“Together?”
“Like, you know,” he gestured with his hands, “Together. Boyfriends. Or whatever.”
“Oh, uh, well,” Usopp blushed, and he had to admit, it was pretty cute, “Y-yeah. We were. Are. Maybe?” He sighed, “If you can drink enough to remember everything except to last night, I’d appreciate it.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t drink any of the pond water, then,” he mused.
“No, you should definitely drink the pond water.” His face scrunched up, as if he’d just heard the words coming out of his mouth and wondered how his life got to the point where he had to say them, then shook his head and continued, “You can’t just be no one, Sanji.”
“Why not?” He shrugged, “Maybe being no one is better than being Sanji.”
Usopp stopped in his tracks, forcing him to stop too.
“Sanji, you’re one of the most amazing and wonderful people that I know. You’re certainly better than no one.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re in love with me,” he scoffed.
“I’m in love with you because it’s true,” Usopp insisted.
“Then maybe you just have bad taste,” he took a drag from his cigarette, “Maybe I tried to forget you because I was sick of being around you.”
He didn’t think that was true. If anything, he was starting to think the opposite was true, but he wanted Usopp to stop saying things like he loved him and how great he was supposed to be. It was making him feel nervous and sick, like he had all this expectations thrust on him that he could only disappoint, and he didn’t like it.
Maybe that was who Sanji was, an asshole. He certainly felt like one.
Usopp punched him hard in the face, forcing the cigarette out of his mouth as his head reeled back in pain.
He grabbed his throbbing cheek and turned to stare at him.
“I’m going to forgive you for what you said about me,” Usopp said, “Because you don’t have your memory and you don’t know what you’re saying.”
He grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pushed him against a tree trunk, “But for fuck’s sake Sanji, you’re worth it! You’re worth being and you’re worth knowing and you’re worth loving.”
He sighed, letting him go as he took a step back, “If you don’t love me anymore, if that’s why you tried to forget, that’s fine. We can work something out, I just,” he ran a hand down his face, “I know I can’t make you drink the pond water, but you need to exist.”
He stared at Usopp, and he could see why he’d love him. He could see how the thought of losing him would make him want to forget everything. He tried once again to summon any familiarity or affection for him that extended beyond this morning, but once again came up empty.
There was nothing in him.
But even if he was only half the man Usopp said he was, that he needed, that he loved, then that was someone worth being.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Usopp frowned at him.
“Okay, I’ll drink the shitty pond water,” he said as he started back up the mountain path, “But I won’t like it.”
“I certainly hope not,” Usopp said as he followed, “I don’t want you serving us pond water after this because you took a shine to it.”
The pond was hidden away in a clearing just off the mountain path. It was very similar to the pond he’d woken up by this morning, right down to the lily pads floating on the surface.
The sun was hanging low in the sky, but there was still enough sunlight left to make the water’s surface sparkle.
He knelt down next to it and scooped up a handful. It looked like pond water, it smelled like pond water. There was no getting around the fact that this was pond water and he was going to put it in his mouth.
He must have been very drunk or very desperate last night to drink this shit.
“Maybe there’s a way to like, distill it?” Usopp suggested, but he already put the water to his mouth and swallowed.
It tasted just as bad as it smelled, and he gagged a little as it hit the back of his throat but kept going until it was all gone.
Memories started flashing in his mind. Of his mother, of her smile as she enjoyed his disgusting attempts at food. His brothers and their father and their terror. His sister and her kindness. Of a cage and a mask and the loneliness that came with being forgotten and rejected.
Shit, no wonder he tried to forget.
“Are you okay?” Usopp asked tentatively, reaching out a hand to help him, but he already had another mouthful of water and was drinking again.
A ship. A storm. A sunbaked rock in the middle of nowhere. The hunger. The starvation. The wasting away as his own body ate itself for lack of anything else. A missing leg and all the guilt and debt that came with it.
The Baratie. His home.
He drank another handful.
Luffy and Zoro and Nami and Usopp and Chopper and Robin and Franky and Brook and Jinbei. The Going Merry and the Thousand Sunny. Endless adventures on the endless sea, his sea. His All Blue.
His Usopp, and oh, yes, he did love him. He loved him very much.
He drank again.
And he remembered everything.
Sanji collapsed back onto the ground and coughed, the scummy pond taste still coating his tongue.
“Shit,” he cursed as he threw and arm over his eyes, “That shit’s nasty.”
He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, but he still noticed Usopp sit down next to him.
“Honestly, it was mostly pond scum, which in my opinion is the worst part of the pond,” he said as a last bit attempt to deflect the conversation that was going to happen, “Zero out of ten, do not recommend.”
“So,” Usopp started, and he shut up immediately, “You remember now, yeah?”
He sighed, defeated, “Yeah.”
“We have to talk about it, right?”
“Talk about what?” He tried.
“The fight,” he pushed ahead, “Us. Our, you know.”
Sanji lifted his arm off his eyes and watched Usopp fiddle with the grass nearby, refusing to make eye contact as he ripped out his heart and tore it to shreds.
“Our break-up.”
Sanji sighed as he closed his eyes again. The pain rippled through him just like it had the night before, leaving him feeling just as empty. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the doodle of All Blue that Usopp had made for him. He remembered watching him make it and realizing for the first time that he was in love with him.
“If you want to break-up-”
“What, me?” Usopp let out a chuckle, but it sounded hollow, “You think I want to break up?”
“I mean,” he shrugged as best he could, “You’re the one who’s bringing it up so...” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
“You’re the one who went out and erased his entire memory because he couldn’t stand the thought of me.”
“What?” He sat at up and put the doodle back into his breast pocket, right by his heart where it belonged, “That’s not why I erased my memory.”
“I mean,” he shrugged, “That’s why you said you did, you know, before.”
“I didn’t know shit before,” he scoffed, “And you said you wouldn’t hold it against me specifically because I didn’t know shit.”
“Okay,” he raised his hands in a placating gesture, “so why did you erase your memory?”
“Because,” he looked away, unable to meet his eye, and ran his fingers through the grass by his knees, “Because if you didn’t want me then I didn’t see the point to this.” He gestured at himself, “To any of this. I figured it was better to just, forget. Forget you, forget all of it.” He sighed, “Be someone else.”
Usopp laid his hand on top of his and gave it a squeeze, “I do want you. All of you, as you are. When I said I didn’t think we were working I meant,” he sighed and looked away, “That you don’t want me to want you.”
Sanji looked at him like he was crazy. How could he possibly not want him? “Huh?
“Ever since you left, ever since Whole Cake Island, it’s been different. You’ve been different.”
Sanji tried to pull his hand away, but Usopp held fast.
“I figured it wasn’t a big deal when you left. I figured you’d just come back when you were done doing whatever it was you had to do there.” He leaned forward and caught his eye, and Sanji couldn’t look away, “But something happened there. Luffy knows it. Nami knows it. Chopper, Brook, and Jinbei know it. I want to know it. But, you won’t talk about it. Whenever I try and ask about it you deflect or give non-answers, or just change topics completely.”
Sanji swallowed thickly, tried to think of something to say to change the subject or deflect, but realized he was doing exactly what Usopp didn’t want him to do, and decided the only answer he could give right now was the truth.
“I can’t tell you about Whole Cake Island,” he paused, doing his best to find the words, “because I’m afraid it will make you hate him.”
Usopp shook his head, “You know everything about me, my hopes, my fears, my weaknesses, all of it. The worst parts of me. And you accept it, accept them. You love all of me. I want to return the favor, but there’s parts of you that you refuse to show me.”
Sanji clenched his fists tight in the grass, but Usopp rubbed circles into them with his thumbs, relaxing them and opening them up.
He was right, he had been hiding the worst parts of himself. The only people he ever showed them to were Zeff and Luffy because they didn’t give him a choice. He wanted to show Usopp, he wanted Usopp to know everything and accept him and love him, but he was terrified about what that would cost.
But he knew now that everything that had happened to him, all his experiences all his memories, the good and the bad, went to make up him, who he was in this moment. And if anyone deserved to know, it was the man he loved.
So he finally let go and told him.