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Business moved slowly, like overboiled molasses. Once again, Sanji regretted taking a job at a convenience store because while it did help him save up for culinary school, there was rarely anything to do in the last few hours of his shift. High schoolers would normally be streaming in, loading up on sugary snacks and soda, but after summer had started, the only regulars around the store were overworked salarymen.
However, Sanji’s eyes were soon blessed by the arrival of several girls in plain uniforms, likely from the prep school nearby. Tittering and seemingly discussing something in a small group together, the three teens looked up and down the street, as if searching for someone.
Finally, a tall man with green bristly hair walked by them, nearly getting lost along the sidewalk. He didn’t seem to be from around the neighborhood, not that Sanji was interested or anything, though it was a good thing to keep in mind when one looked so… strapping? Rugged? The man’s attractiveness was rather hard to describe in Sanji’s I-am-pulling-a-nine-goddamn-hour-goddamn-shift brain.
If anything, two of the girls had become similarly interested in the biceps and abs pressing through the thin cloth of the man’s t-shirt, though the third girl just looked at the second’s smitten form forlornly. Poor soul.
The tallest of them walked toward the stranger, and the others followed, trying to get his attention.
The man didn’t seem to know them, as shown by the cute, confused scrunch of his nose as they called out to him, but Sanji watched enviously while the girls leaned in close to him, fluttering their lashes and using such imploring, high-pitched voices that he could catch bits of conversation from behind the store’s half-open windows.
“Sir, would you mind going in and getting us a few beers?”
“We’re going to a party, and we’d look so cool if we could bring some drinks.”
Following a moment of quiet deliberation, the man grunted in assent, “Ok, but you gotta pay for it.”
Giving him a few bills, the teenagers erupted into delighted squeals that made Sanji clench his lip behind his teeth. He could have been the one providing the ladies with that joy.
Worse than the idea of helping underaged kids drink alcohol was the idea that this… this marimo-head was somehow getting the girls’ attention. And so, when the green-haired man opened the door and a light chime rang out, Sanji swore to put a stop to this man’s devices.
The marimo disappeared into Aisle 1, passing by cartons of ice cream and other dairy products. Knowing that the alcohol and beer lay in a refrigerator pressed against the end of Aisle 1, Sanji held his breath, waiting for him to emerge. Five minutes passed in silence, and Sanji waited it out by scrolling through his phone, wondering if any of his favorite idols had posted anything new. When no one came out of the aisles, Sanji checked the screen of security cameras behind him, searching for signs of bright green hair.
He found the man all the way in Aisle 12, wandering up and down the rows of canned foods like he’d somehow gotten lost in a convenience store. After Sanji watched him for a few more minutes, and definitely didn’t squint at the grainy picture quality when the man bent down to pick up a box of sushi, he finally considered the impossible.
Sanji called out, “Hey, did you get lost over there?”
The reply came back quickly. “Nah. Just looking for something.”
“Well…” Sanji rolled his eyes as he saw the marimo make the same loop around Aisle 9 for the third time in a row, “If you want to get out, just follow the sound of my voice.”
The blonde chuckled at the muttered curses he heard and offered the marimo a perfect service smile when, at last, he stepped in front of the cashier.
The man set down the box of sushi, along with three cans of beer. As Sanji looked into his eyes, trying to search him for his intentions, he noticed that the other man was just slightly taller than him, like he had been born to just barely outcompete him in all things. But Sanji would not lose in this.
“Can I see your ID?”
The man shrugged, then slipped out a card from his wallet. Sanji inspected it and burned the name into his memory.
Roronoa Zoro.
Sanji was tempted to just call the authorities and get Zoro arrested, or whatever they did to people who gave drinks to underaged people, but Zoro could just say that he had meant to buy the drinks for himself. And Sanji didn’t have any hard proof besides what he might have heard through the store’s windows.
Thus, all he could really do is scan the labels on the beers, ring the man up, and keep watch on those girls, who were not so sneakily hiding by a bus stop right outside of the store. The moment Zoro handed over the alcohol, he would make his move.
However, as it turned out, Sanji wouldn’t need to intervene.
Though Zoro approached them with an open beer in hand, and the girls happily said their thanks, their expressions quickly froze into horror as Zoro instead brought the can to his lips and chugged it down. Taking out the second and third cans, Zoro repeated the same thing, finishing his third off with a bit of froth under his top lip and a light blush spreading across his cheeks (which looks unfairly adorable, Sanji thought).
In contrast with Zoro’s rather pleased expression, the group leader’s face contorted into rage. When she raised her hand to slap Zoro’s face, her friends trying to stop her, Sanji decided he had had enough.
Holding up his phone, he ran out of the store and shouted, “Stop! I can and will call the police if this goes further.”
All four people turned to him, Zoro looking particularly surprised.
Walking up to the girls, Sanji bowed lowly. “Rather than that brute, you may slap me, mademoiselle.”
Blinking, the tallest girl stuttered, “Uh, no thanks.”
The trio walked away, leaving behind an aspiring chef with a now broken heart.
Slightly slurred but mostly coherent, Zoro started to speak, “Didn’t need your help there.”
Sanji just snorted. “Tell that to your unharmed face. Besides, it’s your own fault for taking their money.”
“Free booze is free booze.”
“But you didn’t need to drink all three cans, idiot.” Sanji suppressed the urge to kick the man.
Zoro crossed his arms, “I was sending a message.”
“Like what? That getting shit-faced drunk can be the answer to anything?”
Zoro was about to respond but instead swayed forward, his eyes widening as he nearly stumbled into Sanji. The chef reacted quickly, wrapping an arm around the other man’s shoulder until he found his footing again.
Sanji gazed at him in concern. “Look, if you need help getting home, I can call a cab for you or something.”
Zoro shook his head, getting Sanji to move his arm off him with a brush of his hand. “‘S fine. I live near here anyway. But thanks.”
He pressed a plastic-wrapped candy into Sanji’s fist. Zoro’s fingers were warm and surprisingly calloused, and Sanji enjoyed the sensation of the other man’s hands briefly wrapping around his own, carefully tucking the confectionary in between his thumb and pointer finger.
After they stayed like that for a beat longer than what was needed, Zoro let go and said, “I work for Chopper’s candy store, just down the road. Give me a ring sometime, yeah?”
He walked away more quickly, swaying slightly. Sanji could only hope he knew where he was going this time.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Back inside the store, Sanji unwrapped the candy and found a thin slip of paper, inserted just between the colored plastic and a hard, green candy that was the same shade as Zoro’s hair. Scrawled in messy handwriting was a phone number, and a message right below it, saying “Your eyebrows are funny.”
Sanji immediately dialed the number, ready to yell at the man at the other end.
If there was a slight bit of hope, a little lump of longing for something more to come out of the call than a screaming match, well, that was purely coincidental.