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The light breeze ruffled Sunny's sails in a gentle motion, slowly pushing the ship forward through the waters of the New World while the sun shone warm and bright up above. Nami's tangerine groove swayed in the wind and in the distance, the boisterous laughter of Luffy, Usopp and Chopper could be heard, undoubtedly running laps around the ship in an animated game of tag.
Through the galley's round window, Sanji observed the beautiful day outside and hummed a joyful tune to himself. It was the perfect weather for such a special day, the complete opposite of the layers of snow he used to experience back at the Baratie on the same date every year.
Since morning, he'd been delivering specially selected treats to his precious ladies to celebrate the occasion, chocolate waffles with whipped cream and fresh fruit for breakfast, double chocolate chip cookies for a quick morning snack, chocolate and walnut brownies for dessert, and now, as the afternoon snack time approached, it wasn't going to be any different.
With a sway of his hips while perfectly balancing a tray in his hands, Sanji opened the galley door and made his way to the grass lawn deck.
As a set of garden table and chairs came into view, Sanji couldn't help the fluttering in his heart and the way his body seemed to become almost weightless, his steps turning into dramatic twirls the closer he got to the two figures sitting comfortably under the parasol.
"Mellorine!" He called in a high-pitched voice, ready to serve Nami and Robin. He stopped at their side and bowed slightly, positioning the tray in front of himself in one hand. "I prepared these decadent molten chocolate cakes and vanilla bean ice cream just for you, they're as sweet as your lovely personalities~."
He placed the two dishes on the table carefully, smiling at the wonder he could see on the girls' eyes. The reaction he got from his crew enjoying his cooking never failed to fill him with adoration and a deep sense of accomplishment, and those sentiments grew tenfold if caused by his precious ladies.
He was about to serve them their drinks when his plans were cut short. The squawk of a seagull alerted them to an incoming delivery, but the warning was rendered useless as the unexpected and unknown package was suddenly dropped on Sanji's head, making him lose his balance.
In hindsight, he should've been able to use his observation haki to perfectly catch the package with the hand that wasn't holding the tray, or, at the very least, dodge it before it hit him, but he knew he was a weak man at heart.
He'd been focused on Nami's beautiful wavy hair glistening under the sun and on Robin's endless blue eyes and easy smile, turned even more mysterious under the cool shade of the parasol. He'd been totally entranced by the look of pure delight in their faces as they took the first bite of their dessert.
He'd had no chance and, if such a similar situation presented itself again, he could do nothing but to admit that the outcome would be the same.
The package fell from Sanji's head onto his shoulder and with the impact, the tray he'd been holding tilted in his hand, the drinks rattling on top of it.
In a desperate attempt to save his two companions from an impromptu sweet bath, he twirled to the side and watched as the tray and its contents flew above his head and landed on Zoro instead, who was sleeping against the foremast a few meters away from them.
The loud clatter of the tray hitting the ground made him wince and he immediately fussed over Nami and Robin, checking to see if they were ok, "Nami-san! Robin-chan! I'm so sorry for startling you, you're not hurt, are you? I hope none of the drinks splattered on your lovely summer clothes and ruined them."
The two women shared a discrete roll of their eyes, and a chuckle from Robin's part, and dismissed his concerns with waves of their hands. They were, however, aware of someone that had been affected by Sanji's abrupt twirl and Robin made sure to bring their attention to said person, "Perhaps we should check on Swordsman-san instead."
Nami and Robin were already facing Zoro, clearly fighting the upturn of their lips at whatever it was they were seeing on the man, but Sanji had to turn around to check what damage he'd caused. Damage to his tray and dishes, of course! He couldn't care less about what had happened to the mosshead.
Completely unaware of the situation, Zoro was in the process of waking up. A loud yawn left his open mouth as he scratched the back of his head and his chest, being immediately followed by a grunt as his hand came in contact with the liquid substance covering him.
His one eye shot open and he confusedly stared down at his wet chest and wet robe, silently wondering how he'd gotten in that state. Instinctively, he looked up to check for any signs of rain, but, being met with a clear sky, he changed strategies and looked around, until his eye settled on the three people in front of him.
Zoro raised an eyebrow at the awkwardness emanating from his crewmates and eventually his intense stare met Sanji's eyes.
And that's all it took for him to dismiss the other two people out on deck and single out the cook as the obvious culprit for whatever had happened to him.
The stare wasn't held for long, Sanji's eyes shifting from Zoro's face to the tray laying uselessly on the floor and finally to the droplets flowing down the man's pecs, over his scar and down his toned abs.
Sanji's mouth opened and closed, his main drawing in a blank when faced with the view he was currently being bless- cursed with.
He swallowed the lump in his throat with great effort and willed himself to worry about the matter at hand: the drinks he'd carefully prepared for his goddesses were now all over the stupid algae instead of in their delicate hands.
As if a switch had been flipped, the sinful images of Zoro finally left his muddled brain and realization set in, an aggravated shrill flying out of his mouth and cutting through the air, "You stupid swordsman! These drinks weren't for you, how dare you be the one getting them!"
"Huh?!" Came Zoro's indignant reply half a second after, "How is this my fault?? You dropped them on me, shitty cook, and now I smell disgusting because of it!"
"Disgusting??" The hairs at Sanji's nape stood up at the insult to his drinks and he gritted his teeth. "These angel's tip cocktails were flawlessly prepared for our gorgeous angels, I used the best crème de cacao liqueur we had and finished them with cherries soaked in the most delicious syrup freshly prepared by none other than myself. They were a work of art to celebrate today's date! But of course a brute like you would know nothing about it."
Explanation over, Sanji clicked his tongue. Luckily, he'd at least served the girls their cakes before the whole debacle started and the desserts were sitting prettily on the round table in between them. Unfortunately, that did nothing to calm him down as he kept staring at the wasted drinks dripping from Zoro's green head, down his muscular torso and sneakily under his harama-
"The fuck are you talking about?" Zoro interrupted his train wreck of a though with a snarl, staring at him like he'd grown another head.
Sanji took a second to register the words and shook his head discreetly. Damn moss distracting him!
But back to his other issue, he should've expected the swordsman wouldn't understand what he meant. He let out a frustrated grunt, "It's Valentine's Day, you uncultured moss!"
Zoro's brows furrowed for a moment before the dots finally connected in his mind and he snorted, a mocking smile forming on his lips.
A perfect opportunity to tease Sanji was being presented to him and he pondered what to retort, what witty jab would give him the best reaction from the cook.
Of course Sanji would make a big deal out of something that only existed to get money out of foolish and melodramatic people like him, it wasn't like Zoro even had to think too hard, the man was just so easy to rile up.
Pointing out he was a swordsman and had more important matters to concern himself with instead of wasting time with frivolous and useless festivities like a certain love cook seemed like a sharp enough comeback, and he was already preparing to draw his swords for the kick he'd inevitably get for it.
The only problem was, he never got the chance to voice his thoughts and start a fight.
His mouth opened in the shape of the first word he intended to say, but right at that moment, as if by an unknown force, his eye zeroed in on the package forgotten at Sanji's feet and it was all it took to distract and stun him.
The box had been slightly damaged on impact, enough for an indentation to form on one of its corners and rip, allowing Zoro to peek inside and see part of its contents.
There was some paper shoved at that back, he couldn't tell if it was a card or a letter or some scrap paper simply covering the bottom of the box, but either way he didn't care enough to find it out. What really caught his attention, though, was a small pouch right at the front, perfectly aligned with the ripped indent. It was transparent, closed with a red ribbon and filled to the brim with what clearly looked like chocolates.
Zoro frowned, the will to start one of his usual fights with Sanji vanishing so quickly it was like it'd never been there. The insults he'd been about to say died on his tongue and he swallowed a lump in his throat, his lips forming a tight line.
"Only an idiot love cook like you would care about these things." Was all he said, trying to keep his agitation at bay from the realization that what he'd just seen proved his statement wrong.
He didn't wait to hear any indignant replies from the cook. He got up, tossing the tray back at him, and walked towards the ladder that led to the crow's nest without looking back. Suddenly, Zoro felt like continuing his nap up there, away from places where he could be drenched in way too sweet drinks and disrupted by the sight of way too sweet gifts.
The flying tray was effortlessly caught by Sanji, albeit with a bit of a startle, and he stared at Zoro's retreating back with a raised eyebrow. Just what had gotten into him, usually they would throw insults at each other until their fight undoubtedly escalated into something physical, and Sanji hated to admit it, but he was somewhat disappointed it didn't get to it this time.
At the same time, as much as he would've enjoyed the sparring, he was glad the swordsman was finally out of his sight. He was internally berating himself for the not so subtle glances he'd directed at Zoro's naked torso, thankful he didn't get a nosebleed from it and the marimo didn't notice his ogling, as busy as he'd been grumbling about his soaked coat.
However, although Zoro wasn't a concern in that aspect, he did have to worry about Nami and Robin, if the way they were giggling to themselves was any indication that they had caught him red handed.
If they were anyone else in the crew he would've already told them to shut up, followed by a kick to make sure his message stuck, but he'd rather cut his hands off before ever doing any violent actions against a woman.
"What's wrong with him?!" Sanji asked to no one in particular, his voice reaching a higher octave than usual.
As his only resort, he tried diverting the girl's attention to something else, gesturing wildly in the direction Zoro had wandered off to.
Nami and Robin shared a knowing look and shrugged, going back to savoring their desserts while concealing their amusement at Sanji's flustered state.
Sanji pretended not to notice the suspicious glint in their eyes. He felt embarrassed for displaying such a shameless behavior in front of them, but damn it, he had eyes, and again, he was a weak, weak man.
There was no good excuse he could come up with, those two were too observant for their own good—though truth be told, that was also another characteristic he admired about them. Thus, he stood there, shifting uncomfortably in place and hoping the floor would open up and drop him into the ocean down below.
Right at that moment, his foot bumped against the forgotten package still on the floor.
Sanji's eyes widened and he felt a sliver of hope course through him.
In a valiant effort to amend the situation, he placed the tray under an arm and picked the box up. He turned to his two companions, "My darlings, I'm once again very sorry for what happened, and please excuse the moss head's attitude as well, you know how uncivil he can be. But don't worry, I'll be back soon enough with new drinks for you. I hope you can enjoy your desserts in the meantime."
Nami dismissed him with a small shake of her head, her attention entirely on the cake she was picking up with her spoon, "You can take your time, we're fine with just these, Sanji-kun."
"They're quite exquisite, cook-san, thank you." Robin added after finishing a bite.
Sanji wanted to thank them for being so understanding, and we wouldn't, if it wasn't for the fact he decided to glance at the crow's nest ladder instead, just in time to see Zoro climbing up the last steps and disappearing through the hatch.
As expected, grave mistake.
The glaring sun accentuated the liquid still covering the man's muscles, making them glister under the intense light. Sanji felt his mouth watering and a familiar prickling in his nose, and he quickly averted his eyes to the object in his hands.
He stared at in relief, holding it tightly like a lifeline, and took the opportunity to excuse himself, "Well then, I shall take this inside and see what it's about. I'll be back with your drinks as soon as I can. Now, if you'll excuse me~."
Sanji absent-mindedly closed the galley door behind him and took a seat at the dining table. With the package sitting in front of him, he placed his elbows on the wooden surface and rested his head against his open palms, applying pressure to his closed eyes.
Just what the fuck was he doing being so obvious in front of his crew? In front of his ladies!
It was all the stupid marimo's fault. How could he sit with his coat opened like that, how could he let that sweet liquid tantalizingly cover his tan skin, how could he walk around in the sun half-dressed and with his muscles glistening on full display, he was the shameless one, not Sanji!
Sanji huffed, already feeling slightly better for placing the blame on the one responsible for his state of distress.
He expertly lit a cigarette up and, as the nicotine filled his lungs, he felt his body relax. He took a few more drags before opening the box with the small knife he pulled from the same pocket as his lighter.
The first thing he saw inside were three small, transparent bags bursting with chocolates, each tied up with a different colored ribbon, one red, one blue and one green, and below them, at the bottom of the box, he saw an envelope.
It didn't take more than those cues for him to guess what this was about. Zeff had sent him another letter, that much was clear, but the chocolates… It was Valentine's Day, he was more than aware of that, but he didn't know if he could say the same for his brothers. Had the old man convinced them to send him a little gift for the date? No way, that sounded ludicrous!
For one, Sanji couldn't imagine Zeff doing that. Sure, he could kick them and threaten them to do what he wanted, but he couldn't fathom why he'd suggest it to begin with, not when he didn't do the same for Christmas as some sort of precedent. But also, he knew Zeff didn't care about Valentine's Day in the slightest to prepare something special for it, no matter if it was one of Sanji's favorite celebrations.
Dwelling on the motive would get him nowhere, though. He wouldn't find out what had actually transpired until he read the contents of the letter, so with a weird sense of curiosity he sliced the envelope open with the tip of his knife and got to it.
"Hey, eggplant,
I wasn't expecting to write to you again so soon, but hindsight is 20/20 and with how long your brothers have been staying here I should've gotten used to how eventful my life's become. It's like having three of you here and I don't mean that in a nice way.
Their ability to cause chaos with each step they take is astounding and the worst part is that sometimes it's not even their fault. They're a magnet for trouble and everyone else gets caught in the middle of it as well.
I can't take my eyes off them for a second because that's all it takes for patrons to start running out the doors, scared because green eggplant was watching the restaurant and they thought he was glaring at them instead. Or because the kitchen's catching on fire after blue eggplant tried to flambé some fish and another cook bumped into him, causing the pan to drop on our stash of parchment paper.
On both scenarios, we end up with everyone screaming—mainly red eggplant yelling about bad business practices and possible profit losses—and with myself closer to reconsidering a retirement plan.
I have to give it to them, though, in that they actually try to contain their anger when things go haywire, but, in rare occasions, even their best efforts aren't enough.
I've told them one too many times we can't have them jumping on customers' ships and threatening to sink them, it gives us a bad reputation. 'A restaurant where your ship is at capsizing risk' doesn't sound good for business. I guess resorting to extreme measures might run in the family since you weren't the poster child for best behavior either.
But enough chit chat, their uncanny ability to destroy everything in their wake isn't what I'm writing to you about. For a change, their latest endeavor was something less dangerous and aggressive: making chocolates.
I know you're surprised by it, wondering how this came to be. Unfortunately, the reason isn't anything to write home about, even though that's kind of what I'm doing. They simply overheard a few customers asking if we took Valentine's Day reservations and wanted to know what that was.
It was a simple enough question and yet it made me feel like I was explaining the birds and the bees to them. I don't know how I did it, but I pulled a straight face and steady voice and told them Valentine's Day is the date where you give chocolates and other gifts to the people you love.
They stared at me like I'd grown another head, and of course they did, because they don't understand normal human emotions nor normal human festivities. At least they didn't scoff or roll their eyes like they usually do at the most mundane things.
Blue eggplant scrunched his nose and said it seemed like a stupid celebration, and red eggplant said it was a waste of time, a date created to make everyone spend money on frivolous trinkets. I really wanted to kick their asses, but green eggplant had his head cocked to the side, looking as curious as I've ever seen him, so I decided to give them another chance.
I took a deep breath and explained further that you could give chocolates as a confession to someone you liked, or give them to a significant other to show them you love them. You could even give chocolates to friends and coworkers, as appreciation for being in your life or for supporting you at work. It didn't have to have any deep meaning if you didn't want it to, it could merely be a nice gesture.
They still weren't sold on it and there wasn't much else I could tell them. If they didn't care about it, then they didn't care about it. My job might be to babysit these overgrown eggplants and get them to be normal, but I figured there were better hills to die on.
I'd already given up when green eggplant piped in and suggested they should make chocolates for you.
Reiju was sitting on a nearby table looking at our menu (we've been wanting to include some new items and she's helping me with that) and she immediately perked up at what he said. If she'd been anyone else I think she would've dropped the menu and gasped loudly, but you still should've seen the way her mouth opened and her eyes sparkled.
And I have to mention, blue eggplant and red eggplant's reactions weren't so far behind.
Their eyes were so wide, I've never seen them like that (and I assume neither did Reiju), and their mouths were opening and closing like a fish out of water. I think it's safe to say it was the first time they experienced being speechless.
Getting everything ready after that was easy. We might be known for our excellent seafood, but we make some killer desserts too and have just the right equipment and ingredients to make the best chocolates around.
Each one of your brothers prepared something different, all under my supervision, of course. We have standards around here and I couldn't let them waste any ingredients or make food that was completely inedible. The end result was pretty decent, if I do say so myself, so you better like them, you ungrateful brat, those eggplants worked really hard to make them.
And not only that, in the period in between green eggplant's idea of making chocolates and the day they actively did it, red eggplant worked extra hard managing our finances.
He threatened some more suppliers and cut some costs, all so we wouldn't be at risk of not being able to afford express shipping. And what the fuck honestly, does he think this restaurant is on its last legs? There was no need for all of that, but I mean, I'm not going to complain about the extra money we ended up with.
I think he caught the outraged look I sent him for it and justified himself by saying it'd be a waste if the chocolates weren't fresh and in perfect condition when they got to you. How considerate. And I'm not being sarcastic, not totally, at least. It was an excuse, I have no doubts about it, but there was some truth to it too. He had an offended frown on his face that clearly showed how serious he was about it.
This whole thing made me consider if I should get them to send you gifts more often. Red eggplant would go crazy over it and be even more efficient, imagine how much money we'd save!
During packaging, Reiju suggested they should write a little note to you too, but they all vehemently refused.
Red eggplant mumbled something about 'we're not quite there yet' while blue eggplant huffed in annoyance. Or maybe it was frustration, I couldn't really tell. If I didn't know any better I'd say they were embarrassed, though Reiju clearly seemed to think they were, if her giggling afterwards was anything to go by.
Either way, neither she nor I pushed for them to do it, lest they decided to smash the chocolates on the kitchen counters and ruin everything. No one would be happy with that and I can bet they'd regret it later.
I don't want to spoil anything else to you, but as I said, the chocolates didn't turn out half bad. They were actually sufficiently ok, to the point I could sell them at the restaurant without our usual customers asking if there was something wrong with them.
But enough talking, you have some sweets to taste and the eggplants wouldn't be happy if they all melted while you're reading my ramblings.
Keep out of trouble and bon appétit."
With a cocked eyebrow and an interested hum, Sanji took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out on the table's surface. He folded the letter and set it to the side, reaching for the box again. He grabbed the small, transparent bags and laid them in front of him.
Following Zeff's advice, he didn't waste time dwelling on which bag to choose, nor in trying to decipher the particularities of their contents, and opened the first one, tied with a red ribbon.
Ichiji's chocolates were dark and all square in shape, simple and unassuming, but had elegant decorations on them.
Sanji looked at the white chocolate drizzled on some, at the small cluster of milk chocolate shavings on others, and at the gold leaf specs dusted on a few with a delighted glint in his eyes. They looked incredible and his hand automatically moved so he could taste one.
The dark chocolate coated his mouth in a rich, bitter flavor that soon exploded into light sweetness. Warmth flowed down his throat, followed by a sweet alcohol aftertaste, and the relaxing feeling that came from the liquor spread through his body. This one was cherry, but the second one he plopped into his mouth had chocolate liquor inside, and the next, orange liquor.
Ichiji's chocolates might've looked simple on the outside, but they were intense, refined and purposeful, much like its maker's every action.
Going for Ichiji's bag first had definitely been a good start. Sanji didn't know how the man had managed to create a dessert that depicted his personality so perfectly, but he'd done it, and he couldn't wait to see what the others had in store for him.
Next, he reached for the bag tied with a blue ribbon.
The first thing that caught Sanji's attention were the shapes. They were similar to Ichiji's and just as simple, if not simpler. Squares and rectangles with no toppings whatsoever, just plain and pure milk chocolate.
Sanji raised an eyebrow. From what he remembered from Zeff's previous letters, and even from this one, Niji had taken an interest in the kitchen, but this in front of him seemed more like the work of someone that wasn't at all interested in preparing a perfect dish and a perfect presentation.
Being sloppy wasn't a characteristic he associated with Niji, being explosive and reckless were. Perhaps, he had tried being innovative, but got frustrated hallway through it and just sent him what he could salvage. There could be something to his chocolates and Sanji figured it wouldn't hurt to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Upon closer inspection, there were no imperfections on the sweets' surface and a light, glossy finish was coming through, which immediately made Sanji gasp in surprise.
Carefully, almost reverently, he placed a cube in his mouth.
A pleased sigh escaped through his nose, his eyes falling shut. Niji had prepared perfectly tempered milk chocolate that melted slowly in his mouth and covered every corner of it in delectable sweetness.
He ate a second one, only to have the same sensation overcome his senses.
Reaching further into the bag, looking for a rectangle this time to attest it'd also been expertly crafted—spoiler alert, it had—, he noticed a tiny amount of the chocolates had crushed walnuts and almonds on top of them, though nothing too exaggerated that'd compromise the integrity and structure of the confections.
With his head tilted in curiosity, he wondered if Niji had added those toppings to keep his chocolates from looking too boring compared to his brothers'. It was obvious he didn't want to ruin what he'd made, so he'd been careful not to go overboard and settled for something that'd contrast nicely with the milk chocolate, giving it a subtle earthy flavor.
Such carefulness and thoughtfulness were a complete contrast to how Niji used to act, both in battle and out of it. Sanji's memories of him were of someone impulsive, that'd act in the spur of the moment only to get a rise out of people. This time, however, he held back. It was impressive and Sanji made a mental note to commend Zeff on the work he's been doing with him at the Baratie's kitchen.
The last bag was Yonji's and Sanji smiled as soon as his eyes landed on its contents.
Milk and white chocolates in every shape and form; squares, circles, stars, flowers, fishes and cute little boats. It was like Zeff had asked him what mold he wanted to use and Yonji had taken it as a challenge, just like he did with demonstrations of strength, the more shapes and the more punches you could give, the better.
Not only that, Yonji had taken to covering his chocolates in all sorts of sweet treats, chocolate and rainbow sprinkles, caramelized puffed rice, crushed cookies and tiny caramel chips.
After eyeing them with concern and hesitantly tasting a couple of them, Sanji could confirm the fillings were just as diverse, coconut, passion fruit, strawberry and cashew nut creams. It was a party in his mouth, in the most chaotic way possible, and the worst part was that he wasn't mad about it, the combinations worked in their own weird way.
Clearly, Yonji'd had fun making the chocolates and Sanji couldn't get himself to berate him for being so experimental and risking ruining Zeff's ingredients, not when he was also having fun tasting everything.
Looking at the sweets laid in front of him, Sanji could tell how much effort his brothers had put into them, how they didn't want to mess up this little gift they'd prepared for him.
He was sure they'd been nervous when they asked Zeff to try the first batch, see if they'd done everything right, and he can imagine, for once, a relieved smile forming on their lips when Zeff told them they were good.
Maybe it was the sugar flowing through his blood, but Sanji's heart was swelling with affection, the corners of his lips pulling up into a fond smile. He was proud of his brothers' work and of how far they'd come.
Up until a few months prior, he was sure they'd never do something like this, they'd purposefully spoil the chocolate and scoff at the idea of anyone getting involved in such a lame activity. But it was different now, they were different, and Sanji was starting to see the family he'd always wished to have.
He knew he owed it to Zeff for accepting them into his restaurant and taking up the challenge of trying to fix them without much of a complaint other than his confused first letter, and for doing it despite his superficial knowledge of the events in Totto Land.
Those were enough signs that showed Zeff trusted him, that he recognized he was trying to be the best version of himself despite all the hardships he'd been put through.
He'd obviously rather eat the skin of an armored stonefish than say any of that to the man's face, though.
Before he could get too emotional, Sanji plopped one last chocolate in his mouth and tied the bags up again. He stood up and placed them, along with the letter, on a cabinet drawer, one that had a lock on it, so Luffy wouldn't be able to get to them.
Usually he didn't mind sharing candies and snacks he got on the islands they visited, but these chocolates had been made specifically for him, from people that were slowly becoming dear to him, and he'd be damned if anyone got their hands on them.
He apologized to Robin and Nami internally, it was outrageous that he had to include them in that list as well, and it pained him to do so, but his heart had been set. He could, however, deliver them the drinks he'd promised, and that was what he started working on after turning the lock and shoving the key in his pocket.
He'd finished selecting the ingredients and was starting to mix the drinks when he was hit with something akin to an epiphany. As if inspired by the task at hand and by the gifts he received, he reasoned that if his brothers could be nice to him, then so could he try being nice to Zoro for once.
It was a funny thing, realizing that his brothers, as emotionless as they were, were less emotionally constipated than he was. They took yet another step in mending their relationship, while he'd been dodging his feelings for Zoro for as long as he could remember.
He would've felt offended if it wasn't for the justification he was giving himself for what he was about to do.
He was going to start small, giving Zoro a peace offering of sorts (definitely not a Valentine's Day gift!) and nothing more than that.
Sanji hummed to himself and nodded, satisfied. Yes, that would be exactly it.
Of course, he knew not to give pure chocolates to the marimo, as averted as he was to sweets, but he wouldn't consider himself one of the best chefs in the world if he wasn't able to come up with a dish that catered to the most specific tastes.
Racking his brain for the best combination of flavors that he could achieve with the ingredients at hand, he settled on an old-fashioned whisky cocktail, made from the best bourbon he had in stock. He'd prepare it with homemade chocolate and orange bitters, confident the roasted cocoa and zesty orange would complement the rich alcohol perfectly.
He had no doubts it'd be up to the stupid swordsman's tastes, even more so when paired with the dark chocolate and pistachio marble cake he was also planning on baking for him.
It wasn't even an hour later when, after delivering the drinks to Nami and Robin with an exaggerated flourish and a flying kiss, Sanji climbed up the ladder to the crow's nest, following Zoro's earlier footsteps.
Upon opening the hatch, he couldn't help but scoff and shake his head at the sight he was greeted with.
Zoro was sleeping against one of the benches and with his hands behind his head serving as support. His three swords were resting against his chest, positioned in between his crisscrossed legs.
It wasn't anything out of the ordinary for him, though given the particular location, Sanji couldn't help but wonder if what had bothered Zoro earlier had perhaps kept him from training instead.
Maybe a peace offering wasn't that far off from what the algae needed at the moment.
Careful not to wake him up, Sanji placed the tray of treats near his feet and went back downstairs.
And if a small note was left under the cake plate, only Zoro would know.