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The little rice ball was full of dust from the floor under the kitchen furniture. And yet, Sanji ate it without even a frown of disgust.
That sight alone was shocking enough to keep Zoro from moving. The cook wasn’t aware of his presence, as he washed his hands and kept working on the lunch, switching from one task to another with fluid motion. It could have been some hallucination, that was so… Not him. That clean freak who bathed every day and kept mumbling about sanitary hygiene in his kitchen. Or maybe he rinsed it. Maybe it wasn’t that dusty under the furniture. Maybe…
Zoro retreaded silently and added « cook’s weird behavior with food » to his mental « to watch » list. It was his duty to keep an eye on everyone and to know what was going around on the ship. Personal problems or tension between members of the crew, even if he didn’t need to intervene, he had to know. His current list included another « secret » project Franky was working on, and Nami who was having some argument with Chopper about how many leaves on her tree he was allowed to steal. Nothing he could not handle.
Quickly, a pattern appeared and Zoro wondered painfully how he didn’t notice it before.
Anything disgusting, unhealthy or filthy, as long as it was food, Sanji would eat it. Weirdly (or not) it was always the kind of thing he wouldn’t let anyone on the ship eat. « It’s gross », « that will make you sick don’t eat that », «No Luffy that’s not edible, give me that back ». And yet, he eats.
Peeling vegetable, he would eat the peels. That was bizarre but why not. You don’t want to lose any source of food on a ship, every intake was precious. But the rotten part? That he could not understand. He ate some weird shit in his past, when food was scarce. He even ate some onigiri full of dirt once. These were hard time and he had to survive. But now? It’s not like they were in such a precarious position they needed to eat rotten food and if it was the case, why only the cook? Why someone devoted to making good food would inflict himself on the taste of disgusting things?
While making fruit salads for the girls, he would cut the damaged part and eat it. Burned food, same. Fish heads, even the fucking eyes. Suspicious-looking things that Zorro could not name. It goes on and on. He would also eat the leftover of their lunch, tiny bites of food stuck to the plate, before washing it.
Time pass and the man find himself unable to react in an appropriate way.
Usually, he wasn’t the kind to hesitate when wanting to intervene on something, but in this case, he was stunned. Every time it happened, he thought about saying something, but there was always a reason not to. People going around, doubting what he saw. Sanji was pretty sneaky with his weird behavior. It was in fact clearly an old habit. He would do it without stopping his work, almost distractedly, and always in a very inconspicuous way. Whatever found the way to his mouth, his face didn’t react.That was the eeriest part of it.
They all had their trauma and secrets, and there was no need to share them with the others if they didn’t want to. Zoro knew most of the crew's past, sometimes in an approximative way, but he knew. For the cook, Zoro wasn’t aware of the extent of it, but had since long understood the man had known starvation, personally. His obsession with feeding everyone, even enemies, was clear enough to understand that. It was probably that kind of experience that would mess with your head, in some ways. But that much? Wasn’t yelling about not wasting food to everyone enough?
Another obvious filthy thing that would find its way to his mouth was the cigarettes. That itself has always been very off about him. Once, Chopper worriedly told Zoro that smoking destroyed the ability to taste, but every time he tried to confront Sanji about it, he would escape.
Not like Zoro didn’t have his own vice. Alcohol or drugs, as long as they were still functional, they could do whatever they wanted, right?
Time pass, and Zoro feel like there is nothing for him to intervene on, the cook is kinda fucked up but who isn’t in their own way, he weirdly doesn’t get sick, so everything was fine, right?
Everything was fine until it wasn’t.
It’s the middle of the night, and he can’t sleep. He thought about proposing Brook to take his night watch turn but opted to go find some liquor to drink before that. As he open the door, he hears the distinct sound of someone throwing up and immediately finds the origin of the sound: In the dimly lighted kitchen, the cook is bent other the sink, a hand on his mouth like he is trying to keep himself from vomiting. The other hand is grasping the side of the sink, holding his shivering body.
Zoro closes the door behind him as slowly as possible, while the blond gasp for hair. He is still bent over the sink, looking at his hand full of vomit, and Zoro feels like a cold thunder is passing through his stomach. It’s not what he thinks it is. It cannot…
And yet Sanji brought his hand to his mouth, his tong going out, his intent clear and loud.
« What the fuck do you think you are doing? »
The man froze, his hand close to his lips. He turns his head toward him, and in the dim light Zoro can see his the daunted expression he is harboring, a unique wide eye fixing him from the shadow of his hair.
« …what? »
So unlike him. The cook looks like a terrified child caught in the act. His voice is hoarse and low. He keeps his hand in the air, unable to drop it despite the swordsman having seen him. Like he is waiting for him to disappear and then resume his action.
Zoro can’t help it. He crosses the steps separating him from the cook, grabs his wrist and turns the faucet on. That seems to break the man's stupor, as he suddenly starts struggling against him.
« What the fuck do you think you are doing ?! »
Zoro is growling as the blond close his fist as to protect his content, and tries to turn the water off, but his movements are clumsy and unsteady.
« N-no !»
« What “no” ?! Curly what the fuck are you… »
« No waste !! »
His voice reduced to a whimper, and suddenly Zoro realizes the man is irradiating heat. His hand is now clutching and unclenching under the water, and he looks at him with a glassy eye. He stopped squirming, allowing Zoro to let his hand go. As he put his hand on his clammy forehead, he got the confirmation he needed. Relief wash over him. The man isn’t that fucked up. Well, he still is to even think of doing that, even with a fever, but still.
« Get off of me !»
The blond is mumbling, getting out of reach while turning his head to avoid his sight. He seems embarrassed or loopy enough to not fight in his usual way. The swordsman rubs his neck, considering his options. The answer comes quickly to him.
« Sit down. »
The cook doesn’t react. The only movement is his trembling hands, finding their way to his cigarette pack, trying to light one with difficulty.
« You probably got sick when eating one of these trash »
The cigarette fell from his lips as he suddenly looks at him, anger and anxiety fighting for ownership on his face.
« W-What are you talking about dumbass ?!»
« Don’t try to deny you sicko, I saw you. You almost ate your own vomit! »
« I don’t… »
« You said « no waste » like I was throwing out one of your meals !! »
He couldn’t control his voice, as anger took the best of him, finally allowed to explode in front of the bewildered blond. He wanted to hit him for having even thought of doing it, for inflicting that to himself.
« I saw you you dumb fuck, you keep eating those shit, and you finally made yourself sick, I’m surprised it didn’t happen before you… »
« You stalking me !? »
Zoro crosses his arm, fixing the man in front of him with a scowl.
« I noticed you were doing weird shit and took action. »
« Fuck you !»
Sanji tries to push him out of his way and leave, but is suddenly twisted on his foot as he launches himself on the sink again, a new wave of nausea sizing his body. That dumbass deserved it. He made it to himself. Still, Zoro can’t resist the urge to put his hand on his back, stabilizing him.
Sanji doesn’t push him away this time. As he keep dry heaving into the sink, Zoro left him for an instant, pulling a clean rag under the water, before coming back to him and washing his burning forehead, pushing some lock stuck with the sweat. He would swear he heard the blond crying from the back of his throat at the contact.
« You done? »
The cook nod without a word. He let him rinse his mouth before gripping his shoulder and making him sit on the couch before sitting next to him and giving him the wet rag. The blond takes it and hide his whole face in it for a moment. Silence make itself at home between them, and for a while it’s only the calm sound of the sleeping sea and the softs creak of Sunny before he heard his voice, muffled by the rag and his hoarse throat.
« Don’t tell anyone »
He knows what this is about, but if they talk about it, they need to make it clear.
« About what? »
The cook stays silent, before straightening a bit and watch him through his messed up bang.
« You know what I… Urgh, besides, it’s not that often and… »
« Well I do hope you don’t try to eat your vomit on a daily basic. »
« Shut your stupid mouth !! I was confused because of the fever I would not… just sometimes, and… »
« Sometimes you what? »
« Sometimes I eat some wasted food and it’s not a big deal. I can’t believe you stalked me enough to notice that, fuck, take care of yourself and leave me alone ! »
He stops himself, visibly assaulted by a new wave of nausea, and inspire deeply. He let the rag fall on the floor and start the difficult process of lighting another cigarette, but his finger keep ripping on his lighter. Zoro gives him his hand, and after a hesitation, the lighter is in his palm. The cigarette is lit, and he can finally inhale his daily poison. It seems to calm him a little.
« You do it often. »
Sanji look at him through his messed up bang, hair stuck with sweat on his forehead like he was waiting for him to talk more.
« Your… habit. »
He took a long drag of his cigarette before passing a hand into his hair, gripping it in a nervous gesture.
« No I don’t, moss head, it’s just… sometimes. I hate wasting food you know that. »
« I saw you do it every day »
« … So you do stalk me. »
« As I told you, I took action. And I was right, look at you. Chopper is going to kill you. »
« No need to involve Chopper, it’s going to pass, it’s just some light food poisoning. »
« You keep calling me stupid but when I hear you talking I wonder who is the stupid one here.»
Sanji doesn’t react, seeming to have trouble keeping his head up as he finishes his smoke. Zoro sight.
« Between that and your smoking habit… It’s really like you are trying to destroy your health »
« The cigarette… Cut nausea. »
The swordsman stays silent for a moment at the revelation. He always assumed the blond smoked for stress reasons - and it still may be the case - but this was more linked to his weird habit than he thought. Not only it made things clearer, but it was also a confession of how his weird behavior was an integrant part of his life. How many times did he make himself sick and tried to cut it by smoking more? That was… Unhealthy to say the less.
He could stop things here. He could let the cook do whatever he wanted in his dumb kitchen and eat dirt if it was his wish. But the pang of worry in his stomach was difficult to ignore. Something was off in his behavior. He got him hand in the bag. If there was a moment to talk to him, as difficult as it would, it was now.
« Why do you do that? »
He glared at him but said nothing.
« I saw you eat things you wouldn’t let any of us eat, so why… »
« You wouldn’t get it.»
« I can try. »
A huff escaped his lips, tight in a twisted grimace.
« You won’t let me go, isn’t it? »
A shiver shook his shoulders, and he brought one of his long legs against him, gripping it in a comforting gesture.
« I tell you and you don’t tell anyone anything. You don’t tell chopper. »
Zoro let out a deep sigh, before shrugging. He could go with that.
« I won’t. »
He stays silent for a while, playing with his lighter but doesn’t actually try to light another cigarette. He finally starts talking, in a very weak voice.
« I knew starvation. As a kid. »
Zoro stay silent. He nods. He hears Sanji swallow with some difficulty, before letting a shaky breath escape his lips. Saying he looks nervous would be a terrible approximation. The man is a wreck. When he starts talking, it’s a bit too fast, words are falling like broken pieces and some part is anxious mumbling.
« It messes you up, that shit. I can’t… I can’t stomach wasting food. It’s not just a slight inconvenience, it seriously makes me sick in the stomach, I can’t allow it. It obsesses me. I always wonder, will this be the missing part? If we are short on food tomorrow, could it be the bit that would make the difference? I can’t stand the idea of making mistakes, of wasting anything. You never know what’s gonna happen. It needs to be eaten. Anything can be eaten. Food is food. »
His sight was fixated on an invisible point in front of him. He let a frustrated groan, his hand coming back into his hair and pulling it while he grits his teeth.
« I KNOW it's irrational. I made the inventory, I know everything we have in stock, I always have more just in case and more again, and I do my best to not let vegetable spoil but sometimes it happens and I just CAN’T… »
A shaky inhale, before he finishes, with a small voice.
« It’s… Easier for me to eat it. It’s not wasted. I guess it… It comforts me.»
Sanji stop talking, bringing his other leg against him like he was trying to make him smaller than he was. He put his head between his knee, seemingly ready to sleep there, or just zone out.
Zoro stays silent for a moment. Sanji was right. He can’t get it. He tries but doesn’t succeed. But in the end, even if he doesn’t understand, he can see the distress in the cook is real and hurting him in a way weapon could never do. He can’t let it happen again.
« You can’t keep doing that. »
Sanji let go of a frustrated noise, tensing himself.
« I just told you… »
« It’s bad for you. You made yourself sick »
He straighten himself but immediately hide his face like it was too much to see or to be seen at that moment.
« Marimo… Leave me. I told you, now leave me alone. »
Sanji’s voice is muted, his prononciation approximative. As Zoro grasp his wrist to brush his palm against his forehead, it feels like the heat kept progressing since the beginning of their conversation. The passive attitude of the cook itself is revealing.
He goes on his feet and pulls him up, grasping his waist against him and one arm on his shoulder.
« What are you… »
« Infirmary. »
« You fucking liar… »
Despite his harsh word, he is pliant against him. The walk to the infirmary is silent.
………………………..
As Sanji lie down in the infirmary, IV in his arm and a worried Chopper monitoring his fever, Zoro got time to think. He couldn’t fight Sanji’s demons for him. But he could stay at his side, the same way they did in battle.
That’s why, as soon as Sanji was up and back in his kitchen, he started hanging out there while the cook was working. Most of the time pretending to nap on the sofa. Without surprise, that made Sanji nervous as fuck, but who cares. He was there when the habit took possession of him. As the blond was putting a brownish piece of potato into his mouth, he grasped it and gulp it down without letting the cook time to react. He couldn’t refrain from grimacing, the taste was atrocious.
« M-Marimo what the fuck ?! »
« You were gonna eat it. »
« The taste is awful why would you do that you stupid fuck, I told you… »
« You were gonna eat it. »
« It could make you sick! »
« You were. Gonna. Eat it. »
« … »
« Anything you eat, I can eat too. »
Sanji look at him, bewildered, and Zoro smirk.
« You don’t have to be alone in this battle. »
The blond expression slowly collapses in front of him, and he feels a pang in his guts. One time again, Sanji hide his face in his hands, and while his shoulders start shuddering with a silent sob, he close the distance between them and took him in a tight hug, stroking his back without a word.
He can hear him crying as silently as possible in his hands, in the way people who were denied the right to let their suffering go always do, mortified at the idea of being heard.
His hand goes from his back to his head, sliding through soft lock and stroking slowly. On an impulse, he kisses the side of his head, before holding him tighter.
They stay like that for a moment, before the cook tries to regain his dignity and push him, eyes
red and face mortified.
« You stupid dumbass… I hate you… »
« Mmmh… »
He turns around, moving objects without making anything of it, trying lamely to hide his embarrassment without really succeeding.
« I’m gonna… I’m gonna make you something nice to eat to make the taste go away »
« Only if we eat it together. »
Sanji stops in his movement, hiding his face while making a strangled noise.
«… You are such a sap »
Zoro laughs, and a small smile is on Sanji lips too as he starts cooking.
It will be a thought battle for sure. But he will be on his side.