Chapter Text
Robin,
being an archaeologist and historian, both recognized the importance of daily newspapers and was often distraught by the repetition of history proved each day. So, it wasn’t often she personally picked up the paper from the News Coo. The World Economy Newspaper usually relayed the lives of pirates and the increase of their bounties. When it didn’t focus on pirates, there was great attention paid towards royal families, the handling of their countries, and any drama occurring between them. These things were common enough that she didn’t spend time reading about them at all. Therefore Robin, who had unfortunately been the sole crew member out on deck when the News Coo came by, silently paid for the newspaper and took it straight to Nami, who was in the kitchen awaiting an afternoon snack from their resident cook. A glance at the front page revealed a story about a hero marine who had been awarded a medal of bravery, a story which she mentally added to the list of typical WE News stories.
When she put it down on the table, Nami beamed and picked it up right away. “Oh! Did the coo come by already? Thanks Robin!” She eagerly started to flip through the paper, as her attitude towards newspapers was completely different from Robin’s: newspapers meant information meant advantage and advantage over others, especially pirates, was increasing in demand the longer they sailed the Grand Line.
Right as Robin was about to take her leave, she had a rather interesting book on the economical history of Water 7 to attend to after all, the shattering of a teacup drew her ear back to the kitchen table.
“Nami-swan? Are you okay? Let me clean that up-”
“No, no! Don’t! It’s okay, Sanji-kun.”
“But I could never let a lady risk hurting herself on a shard-”
“Sanji! It’s okay. Can you actually do me a favor and get the broom? A mop as well? The yellow one, please.”
“Right away, Nami-swan!”
Sanji dashed out of the room right after Robin had made her way back to Nami’s side. The second the cook was gone, Nami stood up and grabbed Robin’s arm.
“You have to help me hide this.”
Robin, now keenly interested, was about to ask what was there to hide when the newspaper was shoved into her face. It was around the third page, but the headline was big and bold. She squinted her eyes at the grainy picture, faintly recognizing the name. “Isn’t The Baratie the restaurant where San-”
“Yes! Listen, we don’t even have a yellow broom. If Sanji-kun finds out about this, he’ll be devastated. And with so many big important fights coming up…” Nami bit her lip in thought. “We’ll tell him later, after we have time to relax and he isn’t as stressed about everything. He didn’t talk about it but we all know how he’s recovering from Thriller Bark. Zoro is still in medbay, I’m just…” She sighed roughly. “We need to make sure one of them can fight, you know? Things are so dangerous these days.”
Robin listened to Nami, just as conflicted as the girl in front of her. Should they tell Sanji and risk emotionally taking out one of their best fighters, leaving only Luffy if a threat came their way? Or would he enter denial and cause more problems for himself? Or should they let the tension die down a bit and wait until he can better handle the news? Too raw to the close dynamics found in the Strawhats, Robin decided to leave it to Nami, who had known Sanji since the East Blue, even though she felt guilty about this action.
With the newspaper still in front of Robin, she decided to read through the article to see if there was any good news despite the main tragic incident. Right as she got to the third line, Sanji unluckily burst back into the kitchen, a broom in one hand and a mop in the other.
“Sorry Nami-swan! One of the idiots must have misplaced the yellow mop, but there was a yellow bucket. I guess… Is everything okay?”
The two must have revealed their caution on their faces, and both smoothed out their expressions into neutrality. Robin decided to answer, as Nami looked ready to say something harsh. “I was just discussing the state of our library. It desperately needs a good dusting. Are you going alright?”
“Yeah… Sorry ladies, I’ll clean up this now. Would you like for me to serve you more tea, Nami-swan?”
“That would be perfect, thank you Sanji-kun!”
“Anything for you, my dear!”
Robin witnessed how easily it was to divert Sanji’s attention from their concern, simply because he was in the presence of women. She briefly wondered about the limit of his white knight gallantry before recalling his actions when she first boarded the Going Merry and the feeling of a flintlock pointed at her head. Miss All Sunday was an enemy first, woman second, that much had been made clear, but somehow she knew that this was an unfortunate outlier; Sanji was just simply equated with chivalry and it often ended with him getting hurt. Robin found herself wishing that he would realize that he didn’t need to sacrifice himself every time, that they could protect him and his values just as well as he protected them.
The thought of protecting crew circled in her mind. Secrets couldn’t stay secret forever, Enies Lobby was the prime example of such, and someone, even if it wasn’t Sanji, would find out sooner than later. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nami roll up the paper and tuck it under her arm as she accepted a fresh cup of tea.
The holding and releasing of information on the Thousand Sunny was, quite frankly, as both predictable and unpredictable as a street magician’s show. So much was obvious when Brook slipped into the kitchen, most likely to ask Sanji for a meal as the skeleton had refound his love of food, saw the newspaper tucked under Nami’s arm, and swiftly grabbed it with his bony fingers… or rather fingers of bone.
“Ah! A newspaper! I didn’t see very many of these when I was in the Florian Triangle, yohohoho! They look so different now!”
Nami turned around, her panic guiding her into snatching the paper out of Brook’s hands right as the skeleton had flipped the page to the article on the Baratie. Unfortunately, Franky had just entered the kitchen and looked rather displeased at what he saw occur. “Ouch girlie, let the skeleton-bro look at the newspaper for a bit longer! You see it everyday already.”
“Mind your business!”
“Hey, don’t tell me what to do!”
While Nami and Franky continued their spat, Robin noticed Brook walking up to Sanji and ringing up a conversation. He was loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room, but still spoke with a gentle tone.
“Ah, Sanji-san, could you make some fried rice? I saw a picture of some in the newspaper and it looks delicious.”
“Yeah, you saw a picture in the newspaper? Can I se-”
And, as predicted, Nami heard, took the newspaper and stormed out of the room, even going so far as to forget her tea still steaming from being freshly made on the table. This made Franky angrier, and he yelled after her, but did not take her lead and leave the kitchen. He huffed loudly and sat down at one of the dining table chairs.
“I will never understand what goes on in her head. Anyways, Cook-bro, I came in here to get a pick-me-up. You got any of that cola you’ve been making? It was superrr last time!”
Sanji was still left disoriented by the leaving of Nami with the newspaper, his gaze locked onto the warm teacup, but snapped out of it quickly. He opened the fridge and pulled out two Cola bottles that had originally had labels for the brand Musha Cola but had been scraped off after being soaked in warm water. They were handed to Franky, who wasted no time in opening the compartment where his stomach would be and exchanging two of the bottles, the empty of which were returned to Sanji’s hands. The glass bottles were placed by the sink and Sanji rolled up his sleeves.
“I don’t know what the rice in the paper looked like Brook, but I can make you a special plate from a home recipe.” The chef looked determined to feed Brook the best damn fried rice he had ever been served in the many many years of his life and the skeleton was eager at this expression. Robin took this as her cue to finally leave the kitchen, as her economic study book was more compelling than staying in the kitchen, which was growing increasingly warmer the more Sanji cooked.
As she left, she noticed Nami sitting down at her favorite chair on the deck. The navigator was looking troubled as she read the newspaper closely. Nami couldn’t help but focus on every detail there was to offer in the article, which she had started to call it simply that, The Article, as the thought of continuously confronting the tragedy of what happened hindered her ability to properly process what was going on. In The Article, there was no mention of the chefs and most of it was about a marine who had valiantly fought off the pirates who were the cause of what happened. The only valuable piece of information in the text was the name of the pirate group: the Foul-Play Pirates. It was familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
Either way, The Article didn’t give any information out about the location or status of the cooks and rather focused on the horror of something like this happening in the East Blue of all seas. Nami flipped the page sadly, knowing that although the rest of the paper was valuable, it felt meaningless in her hands when the information she wanted was left out in favor of boosting a marine’s popularity.
She had to get more information, but couldn’t risk Sanji, or anyone who couldn’t keep secrets to themselves, namely Luffy, find out about it.
While Nami thought of her plan of action, Sanji was just finishing up cooking the fried rice. Brook was waiting patiently at the table, his fingers wrapped around the handle of a warm tea cup. Sanji turned off the stove and reached up to the cupboard to grab a plate. He placed heaping spoonfuls onto the plate, grabbed a spoon to go along with it, and placed both on the table in front of Brook.
The skeleton couldn’t help but immediately pick up his spoon and start his meal. He swallowed a mouthful before speaking. “Sanji-san, you are a mind reader! This looks exactly like the fried rice I saw in the paper!”
Sanji frowned. “Exactly like?”
“It even has the squid rings!”
“It was seafood fried rice? And it looked the same?”
Brook nodded, too invested in the flavor of the rice to notice Sanji’s frown deepening.
“Nami-swan had the newspaper right?”
“Yes, I think she is on the deck right now.”
“Thanks.” Sanji took off his apron and made sure the fridge was locked before he left. He paused before he got to the door though. “Does it taste good, Brook?”
“This is the best fried rice I’ve had, Sanji-san! Please bear with me if I ask for this everyday.”
Sanji couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll cook for you at any time Brook, all you need is to ask and you will never be hungry again.”
With that, Sanji left the kitchen in search of Nami, and the newspaper she had taken with her. He didn’t usually seek her out for these reasons—usually it was to give her a nice drink, warm or cold depending on the day, and a light snack to go along with it. This was entirely out of curiosity, and he felt awkward walking up to Nami without something for her in his hands. Her abandoned cup of tea passed by his thoughts, but he had already finished it himself and washed the cup out of a need for his hands to do something after she stormed out. He felt that anxiety now and found himself wishing he had sacrificed his comfort of the part for that of the future.
Nami was laying back, reading the very newspaper that had been at the center of attention for the better part of the late afternoon. She was flipping through it almost hungrily, scanning over the words as if she was trying to find a singular mention that was getting increasingly more important by the second. Sanji feels bad for shocking her when he gently lays his hand on the back of her chair, just barely catching a glimpse of the current article for view and seeing something about a marine.
“Sanji-kun!”
“Nami-swan~!! I’m sorry if I startled you, my dear!”
The newspaper was whipped shut, leaving Sanji with no more opportunities to read another word of the article aside from the fact that the marines were involved. “Sanji-kun, would you please get me another cup of tea? I’m afraid I left my cup back in the kitchen and just now realized.”
He recognizes the distraction from a mile away, but goes along with it anyways. “Yes of course my swan!”
Sanji ducks back into the kitchen and smiles once again at Brook, who is standing at the sink and washing his plate. “Ah Sanji-san! Your cooking filled me up, even though I have no stomach, yohohoho!!”
The two amicably chatted while Sanji got a teacup ready and turned the stove back on for the kettle. “That dish is from my home, The Baratie. Have I ever told you about it?”
“You mentioned it once when you were drunk, if I properly recall.”
His face flushed red. “Ah, I don’t remember. But I loved it there. Even though we were all rowdy, it was home. There was a chef there that you remind me of, you know. Old man Pavlo got that look in his eyes when he talked about his son that looks the same when you talk about Laboon.”
“But Sanji-san, I don’t have ey-”
“I’ll shove my foot through one of your sockets if you make one more skull joke.”
That put a quick end to the puns, but it thankfully didn’t ruin the positive mood created in between the two. “His son, you said? But you just called him your old man, are you talking about yourself?”
Sanji gave a quick laugh. “Oh, no, no. Pavlo wasn’t my dad. I just looked a lot like his son and he often got drunk enough that if I didn’t call him my old man he would start bawling. Was I right in assuming Laboon is like your son though?”
If Brook had lips, he would have been pressing them together. “...Yes, in a way. Laboon was so small, we aren’t sure exactly how old he was but he was small at first. He definitely grew during our travels, and even more from what I’ve heard. I couldn’t help but father him; play music for him and make sure he was out of danger. Leaving him at Reverse Mountain was the most difficult thing we did.”
“Luffy will make sure you will see him again, I know it.”
Brook had worn loneliness like a coat as if it were a captain’s for so long he had convinced himself to be comfortable with it, but the Strawhats were gradually ripping away the buttons, tearing the seams, and were trying to pry it away from his bony shoulders that it was glued to with dust. Pavlo and the Baratie chefs were like that as well to a muted degree; the same fear of loneliness yet enshrouding oneself in it remained. Sanji found himself thinking back to Laboon, finding immense relief at the fact that it was Luffy who had found Brook, because there was no doubt Luffy would help them see all their dreams.
“Ah, Sanji-san, the kettle has been whistling.”
Snapping out of his reminiscing mixed with musing, Sanji turned off the stove and poured the hot water into the teacup he had already prepared. As the tea slowly took color, Sanji unlocked the fridge and reached inside to grab one of the small tarts he had made yesterday to serve to Nami alongside her tea. While he didn’t favor serving the same snack twice in a row, he found that he didn’t have time to whip up another between the looming witching hour of Luffy’s hunger for dinner and Sanji’s own curiosity of the newspaper, as so far as he knew, the seafood fried rice was a dish made by Zeff and was a Baratie special that was difficult to recreate by those who hadn’t grown up around its comforting scent and taste.
“You still hungry enough for dinner tonight, Brook? I think I’m going to make some coconut rum salmon and with some side dishes.”
“Yohoho! I will always be hungry for whatever you make! Please do make our small doctor a large serving though, I have noticed he hasn’t left the infirmary all day.”
Sanji frowned when he realized he hadn’t seen Chopper except for when the small reindeer picked up his breakfast and lunch. The plates had appeared by the sink soon after, but he hadn’t seen them placed there. “Yeah, I’ll make sure he eats well.”
Ending the conversation, Sanji returned to the deck with tea and tart in hands and walked back to Nami’s side. The newspaper was laid to her side, perfectly within clear sight. It was open to a story on the new marine captains and their accomplishments. Sanji wondered if that had been the article he saw before.
“Nami-swan!!! Here is your tea, and a snack along with it!”
Nami lowered her sunglasses and smiled, her mood completely different than earlier. “Thank you Sanji-kun!”
She took a sip of the sea while Sanji felt the urge to clap his hands together. “So Nami-swan, Brook told me there was a dish he saw in the newspaper, may I borrow it for a second?”
“Mm, yeah, go right ahead. Just leave it on the table for me when you’re done.”
Sanji smiles and gently takes the newspaper. He brings it back to the kitchen so that he can work on dinner prep right after. Brook has left, but the sound of his violin echoes from where he has moved to.
The front page of the newspaper showed some brave marine, so he skipped over that right away. The next detailed a story of a Western Kingdom’s economic reform and how their citizens were thriving once more under the reign of a new king. He also considered that unimportant, and continued with the next page, then the next. The second to last article was about an unnamed pirate crew with a jolly roger of a skull with a golden bar in its mouth. They had entered the Grand Line successfully and already had a couple of interactions with the marines. Sanji skimmed the article and flipped the page to continue reading, but the next page was a completely different story. Confused, he flipped back, then flipped through the entire paper again. In places, there were missing pages. When he unfolded the paper, he realized that an entire page was missing. Sighing, Sanji refolded it and placed it on the kitchen table. Nami-swan must have been irked about it as well, he thought, you can never trust the news coo to bring you a perfectly intact paper everytime.
Moving on from the incident, he moved to the pantry and picked out the ingredients. The refrigerated items were already sorted out, so he worked on the sauce and rice first.
Meanwhile, Nami slipped the missing paper out from underneath one of Robin’s books that had been left on the deck’s table. The title of the article was as clear as day, not a single smudge of ink to be seen. Her grip on the paper tightened.
FAMOUS EAST BLUE RESTAURANT THE BARATIE SINKS!