Archive of Our Own

Sanji

Sanji stared out at the land mass in the distance growing larger and larger as the ship drew closer to shore.  He took a deep breath as the island of Zou slowly took shape, the outlines of forests and mountains becoming clear against the backdrop of blue sky.

“Nervous?” Nami asked.

“Me?  Never,” Sanji replied, gifting her the brightest smile he could manage.

She looked at him, unimpressed.

“I would be nervous,” she said, “You’re the first human Zunesha Studios has ever decided to contract with.  I would be quaking in my boots, terrified of messing up.”

“As my agent, aren’t you supposed to be building up my self-esteem?” Sanji sighed.

“Just trying to put the fear of god in you,” Nami said, “This is a big deal for the agency.  Don’t get overconfident.”

“I know, darling,” Sanji said, “I’ll do us proud.”  He adjusted his tie and tucked a strand of hair behind an ear.  His stylist, Brook, had worked hard on the casual windswept look, but he felt naked having his forehead exposed.

He was nervous.  The island of Zou was legendary and mysterious, full of fashion powerhouses that worked exclusively with Zunesha Studios and mink models.  Sanji had followed them since he was young; his bookshelves were full of Zou fashion spreads, released each month without fanfare and instantly snatched off the store shelves.  Their current lineup of models—Wanda, Carrot, Concelot—wearing the upcoming summer trends had already launched a craze over chinos and sheer white linen shirts.

“What could they possibly want with me?” he had asked when the letter from Zunesha Studios had first arrived.  His hands shook as he read the invitation to work with Zou’s famous designer brands.

“No idea, but look at that contract amount,” Nami had replied, “It would be a crime not to accept.”

So, armed with no information other than the length of his stay and the coordinates, Sanji had left East Blue with Nami, Brook, and his nutritionist Chopper for the island of Zou.

“A snack before we land,” Chopper said, joining him at the head of the ship and handing him a bar.  Sanji automatically accepted it and began munching on the sweet fruit and nuts.  He was feeling slightly nauseous, but he always ate what Chopper gave him, his diet and exercise planned carefully to keep the lean and powerful body proportions he was known for.

When he finished the bar, he obediently drank the bottle of water that the tiny doctor offered him.

“I wonder what the food on Zou will be like,” Chopper said, “I brought a lot of snacks, but I’ll need to chat with their hotel staff about the availability of fresh vegetables—”

Sanji laughed.  “Have you seen their models, Chopper?  They must have wonderful food on Zou.  It seems like paradise.”

“Only the best for you, Sanji,” Chopper said, crossing his arms over his chest, “We don’t know if food for minks is suitable for you, so I’ll have to do some research once we’re there.”

“You take the best care of me, doc,” Sanji said.  Chopper, his entire body trembling with joy, glared at him, then he hurried away, skipping and muttering about macronutrients.

“Here we go,” Sanji said to himself as they slowly sailed up to the port.  He could see a few minks gathering on the boardwalk and steeled himself for the first contact.

“My hair look okay?” he asked nervously when Nami joined him.

“With the amount of time Brook has spent fussing over it the past few days out of boredom, you know it looks good,” Nami said, tugging at Sanji’s low ponytail, carefully arranged by his stylist.  Their crew began preparing for docking, bringing all of their suitcases to the deck and jumping onto the pier to tie up the Sunny.  The ship would leave after they had all disembarked, stopping at nearby Totto, before returning in a few weeks to pick them up after they finished the job.

When he walked off the ship, he was immediately greeted by a white blur pulling him into a hug.

“Oh,” he gasped, “Um, hello.”  The mink rubbed their face against his cheek, chirping a word that sounded like a sneeze.  When they retreated, Sanji’s jaw dropped when he realized that he had been tackled by one of Zou’s top models, Carrot.

“Miss Carrot,” he breathed out, “An honor.”

“You’re very handsome, just like the pictures,” she giggled, before turning to give the same enthusiastic greeting to the other members of Sanji’s group.

“Carrot, a little less energy for our poor visitors.”

Sanji’s mouth fell open again at the sight of Wanda, who modeled for multiple evening wear lines, approaching them.  She gave him a similar greeting, her hands light on his shoulders as she leaned down to place her cheek against his.

“Miss Wanda,” Sanji gulped, trying to maintain his composure.

“Just Wanda and Carrot,” she winked, “We don’t stand on ceremony in Zou, in case that wasn’t already obvious.”  She beckoned toward Carrot, and Sanji saw that she was holding Chopper in her arms, walking back down the boardwalk, and chattering at him about his fur.  (“Are you a mink?” Sanji heard her ask him.)

“Thank you for inviting us,” Nami said, joining them.

“Thank you for accepting,” Wanda smiled, “Not that many models or agencies would be keen on putting everything aside to live in Zou for a few weeks.”

“This is a dream opportunity, Wanda,” Sanji said, shocked that she would think otherwise, “I’ve been following Zunesha Studios work for years, since before I got into modeling.  Every outfit I’ve ever bought for myself has been a Zou brand—”

“You’re as sweet as your interviews make you seem,” Wanda said, taking his hand in hers as they walked toward a waiting limo.  As soon as they entered, Carrot handed him a drink to him, and forced a plate laden with fruit into his hand.

“Tell us about yourself, Sanji,” she said eagerly, “You like to cook, right?”

“I do,” Sanji said, surprised that she knew, “I don’t cook much for myself, but I’d love to cook for you.”

“We picked him up from a kitchen in Midtown East Blue,” Nami said, “The head of our agency saw him working as a sous chef and recruited him immediately.”

“This is a purin berry,” Carrot said, holding a yellow fruit to Sanji’s mouth, which he accepted obediently, “We use it in custard with a lot of coconut milk and sugarcane.  I’ll teach you how to make it, and you can share it with the lesser Minks.”

“Carrot…” Wanda said.

“I mean humans, sorry,” Carrot laughed.

“The custard sounds delicious,” Sanji said.

“It’s rich and creamy and sweet and wonderful.  I have it every day for breakfast.  You should have breakfast with me, Sanji,” Carrot said eagerly.  Sanji looked at the rail-thin model and tried to imagine what would happen if he ate custard for breakfast every morning.  Luffy could get away with that, but he could already see Chopper panicking.

“Maybe a bite,” Sanji laughed, and Carrot nodded, putting her head on his lap and falling asleep immediately.

“You’ll have to forgive Carrot,” Wanda said, “She’s very excitable.”

“She’s very kind,” Sanji said, “I’m overwhelmed that you and Carrot would come to greet us personally.”

“We’re a tightknit industry on Zou,” Wanda said, “And we were excited to meet you and show you around.”

“It still feels a bit like a dream,” Sanji said.  He looked out the window as they drove into dense forest.  “I never thought I’d have the chance to work with Zunesha Studios.”

“Do you have a favorite model?” Wanda asked.

“You and Carrot, of course,” Sanji said immediately.

“No need for that,” Wanda laughed, “We’re new models, but it sounds like you’ve been following Zunesha Studios for a while.”

“Ah,” Sanji said, looking longingly out the window, “He doesn’t model anymore, but the first model I saw a spread of was—”

---

Pedro

Two months prior

“Pedrooooooo.”

“Carrot,” Pedro sighed, putting down his book.  He took his glasses off and rubbed tiredly at his eyes as the rabbit mink leapt into his treehouse with an easy bound.

“What are you reading?” Carrot asked.  She peered at the cover and wrinkled her nose before Pedro could answer, “A history book on the Wano-Onigashima War?  You’re like my dad.  Do all minks suddenly like history when they turn old?”

Pedro tapped her lightly on the forehead with the spine.  “I’m not old.  And even if I were, respect your elders, and don’t you have a shoot this afternoon?”

“Shishilian doesn’t like the lighting and the weather today,” Carrot sighed, “So he canceled it.”

“I’ve never met a pickier photographer than that lion mink,” Pedro muttered.

Carrot fell onto Pedro’s pile of pillows and batted at the strings hanging from his ceiling with her feet.

“When I told him I was going to come bother you, he said that I should convince you to come back to Zunesha Studios,” she said.

Pedro read a fascinating passage on Kozuki Oden’s blacksmith and tried his best to ignore her.

“I told him that your belly was getting too big.”

At this, he looked up and glared at her.  “I have never been fitter in my life since leaving—.”  He sighed when he saw her sticking her tongue out at him.  “Pups these days,” he muttered.

“Shishilian said that Inuarashi and Nekomamushi are planning a new campaign for Zunesha Studios,” Carrot said, “He said they’re going to have us work with lesser mink models.”

“Those two old coots said that?” Pedro asked, surprised, “I always assumed they’d rather tear the whole place down than work with humans.”

“The world is changing,” Carrot said, imitating a deep imposing voice, “We must change with it.  Or something.”

“Well, good luck, from what I’ve heard of human models, they’re all conceited and high maintenance, even for humans.”

“Shishilian gave me a bunch of photos of the models they’re considering,” Carrot said, flopping onto her stomach and pulling a binder out of her bag.  “Wanna see?  They’ve narrowed it down to the top three.”

“I have no interest,” Pedro said, turning back to his book.  A moment later, a photo was shoved above the image in his book of Ame no Habakiri, Oden’s famous sword.

Pedro stared at the photo of the man, holding a cup of coffee out to an orange-haired woman.  Handsome.  The man had on an easy smile, his blonde hair brushed over one eye, the other a bright blue.  His fingers were long, almost delicate, but Pedro could see a few scars on his index finger and the wiry muscle in his forearm indicated he wasn’t just a pretty face.

“This… this isn’t a professional shot,” he managed to say.

“Pekoms has been wandering around the world, taking candid photos of models so we can see what they look like in real life and not just the completely edited photos their agencies want to send us.”  She put two other photos in front of him, a curvy black-haired woman staring imperiously at the camera and a man who apparently walked around in public with a rose between his teeth.

“Is it… even a debate who to invite?” Pedro asked.

“I don’t know… the lady has a very good figure,” Carrot said, “She and Wanda would look gorgeous together.”

“Obviously, this man is the right choice,” Pedro said, pointing at the first photo she showed him, “His posture is good, he is showing grace toward the woman, he looks attractive even in casual clothing.”  He was beginning to feel outraged on the unnamed man’s behalf.

“I thought you weren’t interested,” Carrot giggled.

“I’m not,” Pedro said, returning to his book and attempting to push the pictures aside.

“Keep them,” Carrot said, “Shishilian’s been handing them out all around town, trying to get people’s opinions.”

“Who… who do our comrades seem to favor?” Pedro asked.  He certainly didn’t care, he told himself, but it wouldn’t do for Zunesha Studios to work with anybody but the best.  Not that you know anything about the blonde man, he thought.

“A lot of minks like the guy with the rose.  He seems fun.”

Pedro snapped his book shut.  “It would be a grave error.  Shishilian should know that models who are able to take direction and have some humility create the best conditions for a good photograph.  To think that our fellow minks can be drawn in by this flashiness.  I’ve been out of the business for a while, but I hadn’t thought that we would have changed so much—”

“Relax,” Carrot said, laughing, “Obviously everybody likes Sanji the best.  You don’t have to go to war, Pedro.  Shishilian has already sent him a letter inviting him here.”

“Oh, well, that’s good,” Pedro said, mollified, “It’s the proper choice.  I am glad Shishilian did not act in a misguided way.”

“Do you want to know more about Sanji?” Carrot asked, “You seem very fascinated by him.”

“I merely wanted to ensure we were making good decisions for the country,” Pedro said, “Now that I have been assured that we are, I would like to go back to my peaceful afternoon of retirement.”

“Okay, fine,” Carrot sighed.  She stood and put a packet next to Pedro.  “Though, in case you get bored of your boring book, I’ll leave this here for you, some fun bedtime reading.  It’s Sanji’s file with his interviews and photo spreads and stuff.”

Before Pedro could tell Carrot that the packet was not needed, she leaped out of the treehouse, landing without a sound except for her singing at the top of her lungs as she bounded away.

Pedro continued reading about how Kozuki Oden was a dual sword wielder.  Or attempted to read.  After his eyes skimmed the same sentence multiple times, he gave up and picked up the packet on the new human model.

The first page of the packet was an interview of Blackleg Sanji that was conducted in the kitchen of his East Blue home.  Accompanying the interview was a series of photos of the model.  One where his knife was a blur, a neat collection of thinly sliced green onions on the cutting board.  Another where he was in the process of cracking an egg with one hand.  One where he offered a beautiful plate of omelet to the camera with a dazzling smile.

When he finished reading every page of the packet, Pedro ran his hand over his face, annoyed at himself for spending his afternoon doing exactly what he knew Carrot expected he would do.  The rabbit mink was manipulative.

He looked out the window of his home toward Zunesha Studios’ main filming location.  This was a sneaky attempt to get him to set foot back on the grounds.  The entire country would be there, curious about the first human to secure a contract with their exclusive studio.  Shishilian was making a bet that as soon as Pedro returned to the familiar sound of cameras clicking, surrounded by the fine fabrics and designs of their talented fashion houses, he would want to go back to modeling.

“You’re too old, jaguar,” Pedro muttered, “No one wants to see you anymore.  Leave it to the kids.”

He put the packet of information about Sanji in a drawer.  Curiosity satisfied, he went back to reading about wars from centuries ago.

---

Sanji

“This where you’ll be staying, Sanji,” Carrot chirped, “Right next to me!”

Carrot and Wanda had brought him to a residential complex attached to Zunesha Studios, full of rooms open to the night air.  His room was at the end of the hall, had mosquito meshing attached to the windows, and was full to bursting with pillows and blankets.

“Is it okay?” Wanda asked nervously, “We don’t really have hotels or similar living quarters that you might have expected.  We are not really a tourist destination, by choice.”

“Are you kidding?” Sanji asked, trying hard to contain his excitement as he looked out at the view of a lake, the room full of sweet smells from the flowers surrounding the complex.  “This is incredible.  Paradise.”

“It gets chilly at night, so we all chipped in our pillows and blankets,” Carrot said, holding up a carrot-shaped pillow.  “This one is mine.  Take care of her.”

“I will,” Sanji said, overwhelmed by the kindness of his hosts.

“Nami, Brook, and Chopper are in the next building by me,” Wanda said, “We’ll give you some privacy to get settled.”  Carrot remained sitting on his floor, looking up at him expectantly.

“That includes you, Carrot,” Wanda said, pulling her out of his room.

“Dinner is served communally in two hours,” Wanda called, “We’ll come pick you up then.”

When the minks left, Sanji collapsed onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.  He was finally in Zou.  The minks were welcoming, even to a human stranger like him.  They had driven past countless beautiful locations, Carrot rattling off photoshoots that they had recently done by waterfalls and natural flower gardens.  Zou had always been famous for its exclusively outdoor shoots, something that Sanji was not accustomed to.  But he would have to adapt quickly and live up to the faith Zunesha Studios had placed in him by bringing him to Zou.

Determined, Sanji sat up and began unpacking his bags.  They had been encouraged to travel light, so Sanji was only able to bring a few of his favorite Zou magazines.  He took them out now, placing them on the bedside table.  They were getting slightly frayed from the number of times Sanji had flipped through them.  Sanji picked up his favorite one, from seven years ago, when he had just started cooking in Zeff’s kitchen.

He smiled, remembering picking up a packet of cigarettes from the corner store and seeing the magazine.  Pedro, the jaguar mink who had originally made Zou famous, graced the cover in a sleek black suit.  Sanji had been late to work that day and got chewed out by Zeff, but when the shift was finally over, he ran home and stared at each glossy page.  His coworkers began making fun of him when he showed up to work in suits a while later.

Pedro had retired shortly after the spread was published, and Sanji hadn’t seen him in any other Zou magazines.  Finding older editions was difficult, but Sanji had located a few.  He would have to ask Carrot if they kept copies of their earlier magazines and whether he could take a few home with him.  But that was too embarrassing a question to ask right off the bat.

Daydreaming whether Pedro might still come to Zunesha Studios once in a while, Sanji unpacked the rest of his belongings.

He heard a knock on the door and turned to see Nami and Brook, who had an outfit chosen for Sanji and his bag of stylist supplies.

Sanji sat down in front of the vanity, and Brook set to work, carefully removing the light layer of toner Sanji had on to prepare for a heavier coat of makeup for their dinner.

“A warm and humid night,” Brook said, long, bony fingers gentle on Sanji’s cheek, “Will have to adjust accordingly.”

“I’ve got a schedule for you,” Nami said, sitting down on the side of his bed, “Our hosts are giving you a few days to settle in, with some tours of the island, then they’ve got you booked solid with the various brands.”

“Which ones?  Do they have the lines picked out?” Sanji asked eagerly, “Can I see?”

“Zunesha Studios does things a little differently than other bookings we’ve done,” Nami said, “Since it’s outdoor shooting, they decide which location, the clothing, the models all on the morning of the shoot based on the weather and how the photographer feels.  Since all the models and shops are local, I suppose that works for them.”

“Ah,” Sanji said, beginning to feel nervous.  He was used to knowing exactly what he would be modeling days in advance, giving himself time to prepare and think through what the photographer or studio might be looking for.

“You’ll do great,” Nami said, “You take direction well, and you photograph wonderfully outdoors.  Wanda and Carrot said your photoshoots on Skypeia and Drum were what first got them interested in you.  You’re not afraid to get dirty and work with the elements.”

“I hope I can live up to that,” Sanji sighed.

“Close your eyes, Sanji,” Brook said, and Sanji obediently closed them.

“I asked about Pedro, by the way.”

Sanji’s eyes snapped open to look at Nami, but he shut them again when Brook tutted at him.

“What did they say?”

“Carrot said Pedro retired and is living in a treehouse in the middle of the jungle surrounded by books and a garden of poppies.  She called him an old hermit.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Sanji said, pushing back the disappointment in his chest.

“She said he might come watch some of your photoshoots though,” Nami continued, “The entire island probably will.”

“Well, if I wasn’t nervous before, I am now.”

“She said she could introduce the two of you if you have time.”

“I couldn’t possibly impose,” Sanji said quickly, “I hope he can keep enjoying retirement in peace.”

Nami didn’t answer, and Sanji kept his eyes squeezed shut long after Brook had finished with his lashes and began working on his hair.

---

Pedro

“Had I known I would be entertaining so many guests these days, I would have stocked up on more food,” Pedro said, trying to contain the grumpiness in his voice as Shishilian happily ate the fish and vegetable dish Pedro had made for his own lunch and dinner.

“Being a recluse isn’t good for your long-term health, old friend,” Shishilian said, “Minks are communal, isn’t it hard to live so far away from your people?”

“I think I’ve more than earned my solitude away from prying eyes,” Pedro said.

“Pedro, the Face of Zou, the Enigma, the Beast,” Shishilian said dramatically, quoting a now infamous gossip magazine that came out with an article on Pedro soon after his debut two decades ago.

“Shishilian,” Pedro warned.

“Times have changed, Pedro, even Doflamingo’s rag has stopped writing such trash.  Zou and Zunesha are established fashion powerhouses now.  It’s not the same as when the two of us were trying to make something from nothing.”

“That’s good.  I hope Carrot and Wanda and Concelot are enjoying themselves in this apparent newfound age of grace and decency,” Pedro said, standing up to heat some milk for afternoon tea.

Shishilian tugged at the feather of his hat, which he only did when he was debating something difficult to say.

“Carrot told you about our new venture, right?”

“Human models,” Pedro grunted.

“The first arrived yesterday.  He’s settling in well.  He was the life of the banquet yesterday, a very kind and sweet soul.”

“Good.  I’m glad that you still had some sense and chose him.”

“If it goes well, we’ll contract with others.  Inuarashi and Nekomamushi think this will be good for Zou.  We’ll still be quite exclusive, but we’ve long been facing the stigma that we cannot design for human proportions.”

“It is astonishing to me that humans think our shops can make clothes for a rabbit mink and a rhino mink and not be able to make clothes for a human,” Pedro sighed.

“Well, in their minds, the world is divided into humans or other animals, and you can only design for one or the other.”  Shishilian stood, checking his watch.  “Thank you for lunch, I’m to meet with Sanji’s agent this afternoon.”

“Good luck with your model,” Pedro said, lapping at the warmed milk and humming happily.

“Come greet him.  I heard he’s a fan of yours.”

Pedro’s tongue stopped mid-lap, and he fixed an eye on Shishilian.

“I’ve thwarted every attempt you’ve made at bringing me back to Zunesha, don’t think I’ll cave to mere curiosity.”

“Is curiosity what you’re currently experiencing?” Shishilian asked, pointing at the information packet on Sanji that had somehow made its way back to Pedro’s bedside table again.

“Out, you insolent cat,” Pedro said, pointing at the exit.  Shishilian departed, his hearty laugh echoing in the trees.

Pedro sighed, checking his cooler box and finding it mostly empty.  He would need to get more food for the rest of the week, especially now that Shishilian had eaten his dinner.  Grabbing his cloak, Pedro leapt down to the forest floor with his empty burlap sack.  He walked through the jungle, sunlight peeking through the canopy above to shine on the mushrooms and flowers on the forest floor.  It was a beautiful afternoon.

I heard he’s a fan of yours.

Shaking his head, Pedro tried to get Shishilian’s words out of his head.  Pedro was old news when it came to Zou models.  The sleek forms of Wanda and Concelot were all the rage these days, their dimensions more human, able to show off the slim-fitting pantsuits from Guardian brand that had sold out in a matter of hours. 

Pedro focused his mind instead on the food he would need to stock up on.  He had started cooking in retirement, but had yet to branch out from simple serviceable meals.  Maybe he would pick up a recipe book and learn something a little fancier, though it always felt like a waste cooking just for himself.

As he drew nearer to the bustling market center, he put his hood on over his head and slipped into the crowd.

He bought fruits and vegetables from a few familiar stalls, browsed a small book stand and picked up a recipe book of East Blue favorites, then wandered to the fish sellers’ corner.  Perusing the book, he tried to find something that wasn’t too complicated and wouldn’t require him to go out of his way for extra ingredients.

“Excuse me,” he rumbled, when he nearly knocked over a small mink.  He reached down to helped steady them, expecting a hamster or squirrel mink, and saw that he had bowled over a human.

“Are you alright?” he said, eyes widening, wondering if humans were as fragile as they were depicted in Zou’s books.

“I’m fine, it’s my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” the man said, picking up a few fruits that had fallen to the ground, putting them back in his backet, and straightening up.

“Oh,” the man said, blue eyes widening in shock when he looked up.  Pedro stared down at him, wondering why he looked familiar, then realized that he had just run over Zou’s most treasured guest.  Sanji looked slightly different from the photos in his information packet.  His hair was long, and he was dressed in simple baggy clothing, but the striking blue eyes were the same ones that Pedro had spent so long looking at the past few weeks.

Sanji stepped back, and Pedro instinctively stepped back as well, wanting to give the human space.

“My sincerest apologies,” he said as gently as he could, “Have I damaged any of your wares, Sanji?”

“N-no, I’m sure they’re fine,” Sanji said, “Y-you know who I am?”

“I’m fairly certain most minks on the island would know,” Pedro said, looking around at the crowd gathering around them.  He frowned at them, beckoning them away, though the most curious of them lingered.

“Anybody at Zunesha Studios would have been happy to obtain…” Pedro looked in Sanji’s basket, “Pomola figs for you.”

“I wanted to stretch my legs and see the market,” Sanji said, “Um, my agent doesn’t know I’m here—"

“It will remain a secret on my end,” Pedro smiled, remembering the tight reign Nekomamushi had on him when he was an active model.  He watched as Sanji looked around, a slightly lost look on his face.

“Might I recommend dragonsnap apples?” Pedro asked, “This is the season for them.”

Sanji’s face brightened at the recommendation, following Pedro back toward the local fruit stands.  “Thank you, Pedro.”

“You recognize me,” Pedro said, “A surprise.”  He turned to see Sanji trailing behind and slowed down his walk, unused to walking next to someone with such short legs.

“You’re famous,” Sanji said, jogging a bit to catch up, “Zou’s break-out model.  Of course I would recognize you.”

“You’re too kind as well as too generous,” Pedro murmured, stopping in front of a selection of apples.

Sanji’s eyes were wide as he leaned over them, hands respectfully at his side rather than turning over each of the fruit as young minks and the few tourists who came to Zou tended to do.

“Half dozen, please,” Pedro said to the merchant, “Dragonsnaps, choose your finest for our guest.”  The merchant, a happy-looking dog mink, nodded and filled a bag, handing it to Pedro, who passed him a few coins.

“Oh no, please, I’ve got it,” Sanji said quickly, rummaging through a tiny coin purse he pulled out of his pocket.

“My treat, as a welcome gift,” Pedro said, putting a hand over Sanji’s.  Sanji’s fingers were so small and thin, Pedro marveled.

“Please take some pomola figs then,” Sanji replied, a determined look on his face as he held out his basket.

“I will accept one,” Pedro said, taking one fig and placing the apples in the basket in exchange.  He popped the fig in his mouth, chewing happily.  It had been a while since he’d had a pomola fig, a staple in his household growing up from the tree just outside their house.

“Ah, honeycomb muffins and chestnut juice,” he said, spotting another stall nearby, “You must try some.”  He strode over and purchased a few muffins and bottles of juice, then picked up a few cucamelons that looked in peak condition, handing them all to a bewildered Sanji.  Pedro wondered how much more the human could carry.  There were a few other delicacies he should try…

“I think I owe you more figs,” Sanji said, looking down at his basket.

Pedro laughed at this, buying a few molasses chews and adding them to Sanji’s load.

“Or, maybe, can I cook something for you in exchange?” Sanji asked.  He pointed toward the book tucked under Pedro’s arm.  “Those are East Blue recipes?”

Pedro grimaced.  “I’ve been… trying to learn how to cook.  The art has thus far eluded me.”

“I can show you a few recipes,” Sanji said, a bright smile flooding onto his face.

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you,” Pedro protested.

“You’re not asking, you’re just accepting,” Sanji said, looking around the market, “There are some ingredients I’m familiar with here.  I could probably come up with something with just a few substitutions.”

“I know you must have a packed schedule, and your nutritionist—” Pedro said, now the one feeling unmoored as he followed Sanji through the market.

“Chopper lets me cook my own meals every now and then,” Sanji said, picking out a few heads of lettuce, “He knows I won’t ever make or eat junk food.”

“Can I carry your basket for you?” Pedro asked, wanting to feel useful and still trying to find a way to refuse Sanji’s overgenerous offer.

“No, no, it’s not heavy,” Sanji said, swinging it to his other arm when Pedro tried to take it from him.  Pedro watched hopelessly as Sanji continued purchasing vegetables, his basket now piled high.

“Fish,” Sanji said brightly, “And then I’ll have everything I need for an East Blue dinner.  Do you have an oven?”

“I… have a cooking pit,” Pedro said.

“Even better,” Sanji said, growing more and more cheerful as he looked at the ingredients in his basket.

And so, somehow, Zunesha Studios’ newest model was walking with Pedro back to his home, stopping every few feet and falling to his knees to observe a mushroom, adding a few to his basket once he deemed them edible.

Shishilian is never going to let me live this down, Pedro thought to himself.

---

Sanji

As Sanji laid out the spoils of his shopping trip on Pedro’s dining table, he thought he just might vibrate out of his skin.  He was in Pedro’s home.  Meeting Pedro in the market had felt like something out of a dream.  After running into a solid form, Sanji had looked up and his eyes were immediately drawn to the scar across the handsome mink’s eye, then to the rest of his face, then to his height and broad shoulders, and finally to the timbre of his voice that Sanji had only heard a few times from interviews.

He shook his head, surprised at his own audacity inviting himself over to Pedro’s home.  He would have to make it worth it for the former model and cook the best meal he had ever made.

“Um, Pedro, knives and seasonings?” he asked, not sure where to start with his task.

“Ah, yes,” Pedro said, opening up a cupboard and pulling out some supplies.  He looked at Sanji, standing awkwardly with the counter at chest-height.

“That will not do,” Pedro said, then opened a closet and pulled out a stepstool.

Sanji flushed red when Pedro placed it next to him.

“I keep it for Carrot and other minks,” Pedro said quietly, “It will be uncomfortable for you to cook without it.”

Nodding, Sanji stepped up onto the stool, and arranged the cutting board and knives.  Pedro hovered nearby, watching him intently.  Sanji, realizing that he had offered to teach Pedro how to cook East Blue recipes, began explaining fish preparation, the relatively simple ingredients, and the different knife cuts for the dish.

Pedro asked him a few questions as he worked, picking up the pieces of smashed lemongrass and sniffing at the garlic cloves.  Sanji wondered what Pedro usually made for himself.  Pedro had salt and pepper in his cabinets, but nothing much else in the way of spices.

“Zunesha Studios threw a wonderful banquet for us last night,” Sanji said, stuffing the fish’s gills with ginger slices.

“The cooks there are very talented,” Pedro nodded.

“Do you miss their food?”

“Occasionally,” Pedro said, “But it wouldn’t do for a non-employee to avail myself of Zunesha Studios’ meals.”

“You came up in conversation a few times,” Sanji said, remembering Carrot’s wails about Pedro after she had a bit too much to drink.

“Some of my former colleagues are very dramatic,” Pedro answered dryly.  Sanji picked up the tray with the fish and looked down the hatch, trying to consider how he would get down the rickety ladder that Pedro had set up for him.

“I can bring the tray down,” Pedro said, noticing his hesitation.  Sanji handed it to him gratefully, and the jaguar mink disappeared.  Carefully, Sanji put a foot down on the first rung, the rope ladder swinging under him.  It was a lot easier to climb than it seemed like it would be climb down.

A moment later, Pedro clambered in through a window and helped Sanji back into the treehouse.

“If you fell, I would be exiled from Zunesha,” he said quietly, “Apologies for the inconvenience caused by home.  If you don’t mind, I can bring you down.”

Sanji shook his head, then squeezed his eyes shut and gasped when Pedro swept him into his arms and leapt down.  They landed lightly, and Pedro helped Sanji regain his footing.

“Sorry for treating you like an elevator,” Sanji said.

Pedro made a sound that sounded like coughing, and Sanji realized that he was chuckling.  Smiling to himself, Sanji began filling the cooking pit with applewood, getting it smoking.  He wrapped the fish in bamboo leaves, added oil, mushrooms, and various other vegetables and grains to a pot, and placed both in the pit before covering it with more leaves.

“Now we wait,” Sanji said, dusting off his hands.  He turned to Pedro and smiled, “Any tips for me over the next few weeks to not embarrass myself?”

“I’ve seen your work, I’m sure you will do splendidly,” Pedro replied.

Bashful that Pedro had seen some of his previous shoots, Sanji nodded, poking at the ground with a stick.

“Shishilian is… eccentric,” Pedro said, “But he’s a good photographer.  He will sometimes do unexpected things to get the shot he wants.  Once, he had someone push me off a cliff to take a photo of my form when I tried to right myself.  I did land on my feet, but it was a close call.”

“The October Issue a few years ago.  I always wondered how that shot was taken,” Sanji breathed out, “You were in a Musketeers tracksuit and Mokomo trainers.  I have those trainers still.”

“You… have a good memory.”

“I can’t believe you were able to keep your face composed when you were falling,” Sanji said, in awe of Pedro’s professionalism.

“I was not nearly as serene inside,” Pedro said.

“Well, let’s hope Shishilian doesn’t get confused and think I am capable of surviving a fall off a cliff,” Sanji said.

“Where does he have you filming?”

Sanji pulled out his itinerary from his pocket, already worn from how many times Sanji had pored over it.

“Will you… will you come to the shoots?” Sanji asked, as Pedro scanned the paper.

Pedro glanced up at him.  “I… I did not intend to come.”

“Oh right, that makes sense, you’re retired and you have this amazing house and I’m sure you have a lot of other things to do,” Sanji began babbling.

“Would you like me to come?” Pedro asked, “If it would help to have a familiar face among the minks?”

“If you have time,” Sanji said hopefully, “I’d appreciate any pointers during my shoots.”

“I’ll be in the background,” Pedro said, shaking his head, “You won’t even know I’m there, but I’ll be cheering you on Sanji.”

Sanji nodded, pleased with the thought of his model idol supporting him.  He checked the temperature of the bamboo leaves on the cooking pit and began taking them off.

“Ready for an East Blue dinner?” he asked, mouth watering from the aroma of baked fish and vegetables.

---

Pedro

This was a mistake, Pedro told himself, as he hid in a tree toward the back of the crowd at the first photoshoot of a human model on Zou.  He saw Shishilian’s hat bobbing around the side of a lake, the lion mink scrambling around trying to find the light he wanted, a full crew following behind with all the cameras and equipment.  It would take a while for him to be satisfied, and once Sanji was positioned, it would go on for a while longer.

Pedro scanned the minimal set-up, trying to find Sanji.  He finally spotted him under an awning, shifting restlessly from side to side as his stylist fretted over his hair.  He looked to be in Guardian clothing, Pedro barely able to make out the emblazoned double Gs on the collar of his shirt.  It was a good choice.  The light blue silk draped over his broad shoulders nicely, the top two buttons open to reveal pale skin.  Just his side profile as he was now would sell out that shirt.

“Decided to join us commoners from your place up high?”

Turning quickly, Pedro saw Concelot leaning against the tree he was perched in.

“Concelot,” he nodded.

“I’m glad you’re here, Pedro, I’m going to make a pretty penny from Giovanni.  He said you wouldn’t be back.”

“I’d appreciate if you could keep my presence a secret at least until I go,” Pedro said.

“Oh Shishilian knows you’re here already,” Concelot laughed, “He was the one who told me to keep a lookout on this particular tree.  Said it would be your hideout.”

Pedro groaned, wishing the photographer didn’t know him quite as well as he did.

“He’s handsome,” Concelot said, gesturing toward Sanji, “I never got the appeal of humans until he waltzed into the banquet a few nights ago with his big doe eyes and pretty smile.  You should go talk to him.  He’s sweet.”

“I’m just here to observe.  A historic day for Zunesha.”

“Uh huh,” Concelot said, “Well, I’m going to mill around in case Shishilian gets it into his head that he wants to pair Sanji up with a mink at any point.  Gotta make sure I’m in the mix.”  He surveyed Pedro for a moment.  “I was expecting you to be all rumpled with a gut.  You look like you could jump straight into a shoot at any moment.”

“That is certainly not the case, but thank you,” Pedro said dryly, waving as Concelot sauntered away.

It looked like Shishilian had finally decided where he would set up first.  He waved his hand, and Sanji made his way toward him.  He looked very small, surrounded by taller or wider minks.  Pedro craned his head to try and see if Sanji looked comfortable.  Pedro knew from first-hand experience how demanding Shishilian could be; he hoped his friend would take it easy on Sanji for his first shoot.

They began, starting on the shore of the lake in a crop of large rocks.  Sanji sat amongst a collection of yellow madwort flowers growing out of the cracks.  Pedro heard members of the gathered crowd let out a collective sigh.

Sanji was a natural, and Pedro could tell Shishilian was pleased, his tail flicking back and forth as he took photo after photo.  Once he was satisfied with the first scene, he directed Sanji to an Adirondack chair set in the shallows of the lake.  Sanji waded out fearlessly, sitting on the chair and looking up at the blue sky.

As the shoot went on, Pedro realized that he wasn’t necessary.  Sanji clearly didn’t need a familiar face, adapting to Shishilian’s style with ease.  He would leave soon, before the shoot ended so he could avoid the mass exit.  For now, he settled with his back against the trunk of the tree and watched Sanji change into a lighter chiffon, shorts, and boat shoes, lounging on a pier extending into the clear water.

Just as he prepared to leave, he heard whispers breaking out in the crowd.  He focused his attention back on Shishilian and saw the lion mink beckoning for a few mink models.  Pedro watched, interested, as the Guardian designers began throwing on different outfits under Shishilian’s watchful eye.  The lion mink was frowning, shaking his head.  Pedro saw Sanji sitting cross-legged on the pier, resting his head on his chin and waiting.  Someone should get him some shade, Pedro frowned.

Concelot was being fitted, Shishilian circling him with a watchful eye.  Finally, after a few outfits, Shishilian shook his head and turned his gaze.

Toward Pedro.

“Oh no you don’t,” Pedro muttered, beginning his descent down the tree.  A few minks in the crowd turned the direction Shishilian was looking and spotted him trying to make his escape.  He heard his name in hushed whispers.

“Have a good day,” he said to the nearest of them, pulling his cloak more securely over his shoulders.

And then Carrot materialized in front of him.  He cursed to himself, remembering how fast the rabbit mink was.  One moment she was standing next to Shishilian, the next she was peering up at him excited.

“Shishilian wants to see you,” she chirped.

“That’s very good for him, I do not reciprocate,” he replied, trying to step past her.

“He told Sanji he would see if you two could model together, and Sanji was pretty excited.”

“Please tell him I am very sorry for my rudeness, but I have something to do at home.”

“He’ll be so sad and hate you forever.”

“Carrot,” Pedro said, practically begging, “I am no longer a model.  I can’t—”

“You don’t want to be a model, but you certainly can model, you old goof.”  She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the lake.  The traitorous crowd had parted for him, and he could see Sanji standing at the other end.

“I shouldn’t have come,” he muttered, letting himself be hauled by a much smaller mink than him.

“Sanji,” he said, nodding his head when he was standing in front of the human.  Sanji’s cheeks were red, and Pedro felt heat in his own.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask to have you dragged here against your will,” he said hesitantly.

“I know exactly who instigated this.  And it’s not against my will.”

Carrot let out a snort.

Guardian designers descended on him, pulling his shirt off and putting on a soft white shirt, leaving it open in the front.  A tall giraffe mink experimented with various gold necklaces around his neck.  Pedro felt extremely exposed and turned to give his most devastating glare to Shishilian.

“Perfect, just perfect.  You’re a vision, Pedro,” Shishilian grinned, clapping his hands together, “Someone do something about his hair.  It’s going to give me nightmares in its current state.”

Pedro was pulled away, a comb dragged through his hair, various product sprayed and applied.  It was familiar, as was the feeling of surrender to whatever the stylists wanted to do to him.  When he emerged, he stalked over to Shishilian.

“Extremely unfair.  I will remember this until the day I die.”

“It’s a pleasure to work with you again too, old friend,” Shishilian smiled, “I want Sanji on the pier and you in the water.  Snap to it while the light is still good.”

“The water?” Pedro sighed.  He hated getting wet in the best of circumstances.  And this certainly wasn’t one of them.  Slowly, he waded out into the lake, grumbling to himself about how anybody expected him to sell clothes that were drenched.

“Stop, just to the knees,” Shishilian called.  Pedro, habit taking over at the sound of his photographer’s command, halted and turned back to shore.  Sanji was nearby and gave him a nervous smile.

“I have no idea what is going on,” Sanji said quietly.

“That makes two of us,” Pedro replied.

“At least it’s a nice day.”

“Couldn’t have asked for a better one for my surprise return to modeling.”

Sanji laughed, and Pedro’s mood instantly improved.

“Sanji, I want you sitting on the edge of the pier, feet in the water, looking down toward Pedro.  Pedro, my friend, look up at Sanji and extend your hand, like you’re asking him to come down into the water with you.”

Pedro huffed out a breath, waiting for Sanji to sit down.  He took his shoes off and rolled the cuffs of his pants up neatly.  Pedro knew the designers on the shore were probably sighing gratefully at his thoughtfulness.  Shishilian hadn’t asked for this, but Pedro could see from his expression that he liked the look.

“Sanji, you can slouch a little.  You’re in a new country, you’re being showed around by a local who wants you to experience the cool crystal water.  Look a little unsure, like you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Won’t be too hard,” Sanji said, giving Pedro a small smile.

“Okay, we’re shooting, let’s go, let’s go.”

At this, Pedro took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, before opening them again, straightening his posture.  He kept his eyes on Sanji and walked closer, letting the water ripple around his knees.  He tilted his body toward the camera, his tail flicking in the water amongst the lotus leaves.  Slowly, he extended a hand toward the human, an invitation.

---

Sanji

If someone strapped a heart rate monitor to him, they would probably think he was close to cardiac arrest.  Sanji stared, wide-eyed, at the vision of Pedro in front of him.  Long fingers extended, shirt open, chest wide, a fond smile on his face.  He forgot, in that moment, what he was doing.  That he was being paid to look at his idol, to model with his idol.

“Sanji,” Pedro said quietly, cocking his head slightly.

“Shit,” Sanji cursed, “Sorry.”  He swallowed hard and tried to remember how to move his body.  First, his face had to do something other than gape.  He pressed his lips together.  How did one smile again?  He began panicking.  Was he ruining everything?  He probably looked horrible next to Pedro.

“Sanji,” Pedro said, “Remind me what that purple plant was that we had for dinner a few days ago?”

Blinking, Sanji tried to remember.  “Beets, I think,” he said hoarsely.

“It was delicious,” Pedro nodded, “Whatever you put on it was heavenly.”

“Just butter and some herbs,” Sanji replied, “I don’t normally like raw beets.  But roasted until it can get a bit of a crust, absolutely delicious.  There’s a recipe I like where I roast beets until they’re charred and then blend it in a soup with some cream and brown sugar.”  He realized he was rambling about a root vegetable and stopped, blushing.  He bit his lip, throwing a look toward Shishilian, who was still taking photos.  He wondered if any of them would be usable.

“This lake is fed by a glacier,” Pedro said, “Which is why it’s so unbearably cold.  Here on Zou, we have nearly every climate imaginable.  Be glad that the season isn’t quite right for Shishilian to send you to the top of the mountain and model snowshoes.”

Sanji giggled.  “I wouldn’t mind, I come from a cold place myself.”

“I thought you were from East Blue?”

“North Blue originally,” Sanji said, “But East Blue is my real home.”  Pedro had walked closer so they could maintain their quiet conversation.  Sanji’s heart rate was still elevated, but the casual chat was slowly calming him down.  Sanji could see again the sharp curve of Pedro’s teeth, the jagged cut of his scar, his shiny fur.

“One of your upcoming photoshoots is one of my favorite places on Zou.  You’ll like it.  I understand that East Blue has wonderful beaches.  This location is a quiet cove, peaceful waves, gorgeous rock formations.  You’ll look like a siren on the shore.”

“Luring people to pull out their wallets for Zou brands,” Sanji said with a smile.

“And we are very grateful to you for your service,” Pedro replied.

“Sanji, Pedro, if I may interrupt.”

Embarrassed, Sanji looked toward his photographer.

“Pedro, I want you closer, hands on other side of Sanji’s legs on the pier.  Keep talking, you two look very charming together.

Close, Pedro was suddenly so close.  Sanji could see that his eye was flecked with gold, could see the intricacy of his spots, none of them identical.

“I apologize for my proximity,” Pedro said quietly, staying remarkably still while Shishilian took photo after photo of the two of them.

“N-not at all,” Sanji whispered.

“That mink should give you a bonus for throwing you into this without notice.  I’m assuming Shishilian never told you that you would be modeling with a partner for this contract.”

“He did not,” Sanji said, “B-but I don’t mind.  It’s fun.”

“It is,” Pedro said.

“Turn to me, you two,” Shishilian called, and they both turned toward the camera.

“Sanji, lean down and rest your head on Pedro’s hair.”

“Oh,” Sanji said, now certain he was the color of a beet himself, “I—pardon me.”

“Please don’t worry,” Pedro replied, the portrait of composure.  Sanji leaned down, resting his cheek lightly on the top of Pedro’s head and gazing toward the camera.  He probably looked drunk, his head feeling woozy at the scent of Pedro’s shampoo so near.

“Gorgeous, gorgeous,” Shishilian said, checking his viewfinder, “Okay, now, Sanji, in the water.”

“Shishilian,” Pedro said, face turning dark, “It’s very cold, and you know that.”

“Good thing he has a portable space heater so close,” Shishilian replied.

“It’s fine, I’m really used to it,” Sanji said shakily, looking down at his clothes.  It was a shame to get the fine material he had on wet.  He took Pedro’s offered head and slid into the water.  It was up to mid-thigh for him.  And it was extremely cold.  His feet had already gotten used to it, but he gasped at the icy temperature on his legs.

“Okay?” Pedro asked, as Sanji unconsciously leaned toward him.

“Great,” Sanji said, teeth chattering.

“He’s shivering,” Pedro said, glaring at Shishilian, “He doesn’t have fur, Shishilian.”

“I’m really fine, Pedro,” Sanji said.

“Pedro, don’t curse me too hard, but I want to end this shoot with a bang,” Shishilian said, “How about submerging?  The material will look great clinging to your bodies.”

“You crafty, sneaky—” Pedro began, but Sanji laughed, cutting him off by taking a deep breath and falling backwards into the water.  All the air was forced out of his lungs immediately at the chill.  Fed by a glacier indeed.  Pedro pulled him up quickly, folding him close against his fur.

“We’re going to give you pneumonia and no other human is going to work with us because of that ridiculous photographer,” Pedro grumbled.

“I think you’re supposed to do that too,” Sanji said, still gasping for breath.

“I hate water, and he knows it,” Pedro said, but he submerged, coming up quickly and pulling Sanji close again, sharing his warmth.

“Perfect, perfect, perfect,” Shishilian shouted from the shore.  The words sounded distant as Sanji looked up at Pedro, fur wet as he blew sprays of water from his mouth.

“You can let go of Sanji now,” Shishilian said, and Pedro separated them though he still held onto Sanji’s hands, steadying him.  Instantly everything was colder, and Sanji shivered violently.

“Shishilian, I am stopping this shoot right now,” Pedro said.

“Got it, got it.  I’ve got everything I want.  Come on back.”

Quickly, Pedro pulled Sanji to shore where minks were waiting with fluffy towels.  Sanji saw one running toward him with what looked like an actual space heater.  He was quickly wrapped in towels, Pedro hovering nervously.  When Sanji was bundled up like a human burrito, Pedro gave him a small smile and a wave and then disappeared.  Slightly disappointed, Sanji let himself be pampered and complimented by the minks around him.  As he was peeled out of his wet clothes, Chopper ran up with hot tea, looking like he had a few choice words to give Shishilian.

“I’m great, Chopper,” Sanji laughed, “That was a lot of fun.”

“You looked great out there,” Nami said.

“Really?  I felt like an absolute idiot,” Sanji sighed.

“The crowd was enraptured when Pedro was out there with you.  It was totally quiet on shore.”

“He… he’s really good at his job,” Sanji said.

“Mmhmm,” Nami said, giving him a careful look, “Was it everything you imagined, modeling with Pedro?”

“And more,” Sanji sighed, “I can’t believe that just happened.  I feel bad, though, he came to support me and then got dragged to the center of attention.”

“I wouldn’t feel too bad for him,” Nami said.  She picked up her bag and looked at the schedule.  “Lunch, then we’re meeting with some jewelry brands for the afternoon.”

---

Pedro

“Don’t be too upset at me, old friend,” Shishilian said, finding his way to Pedro’s home the morning after the shoot.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Pedro sighed.

“Just wait until I finish touching up the photos and you’ll see why I did that,” Shishilian said.

“If you say so.”

“How did it feel, getting back on the metaphorical horse?”

“Awkward.”

“You fell right back into things,” Shishilian replied, “It was like you never left.”  He picked up a piece of sea glass on Pedro’s bookcase, turning it in his fingers and watching how it caught the light.  He was quiet, but Pedro could tell it was in advance of saying something Pedro would find very stressful.

“How do you feel about a short-term contract?” Shishilian asked.

“No,” Pedro said immediately.

“I’ve been thinking,” Shishilian continued, as if Pedro hadn’t spoken at all.  “There’s a lot of merit to pair modeling.  If we’re going to do a collaboration with a human model, it should be a true collaboration.  And Sanji seems particularly comfortable with you.  And you two look very good together.  Just come back for Sanji’s shoots.  Two weeks of your time, that’s all I ask.  I’ll make sure you’re paid handsomely.  I’ll let you review all the photos, and we can work together to choose which ones to publish.”

“Shishilian,” Pedro sighed, “I really don’t—”

“Just think about it,” Shishilian said, standing up, “I’m going to pair Sanji up with someone.  I would prefer it be you since I already can tell Sanji relaxes around you.  I won’t ask you to come back to modeling long-term.  But do me this favor, at least think about it.”

“I’ll think about it,” Pedro said shortly.

Shishilian looked down at his phone, “Carrot is hosting a small get-together in Mokomo Café in a bit if you’re interested in joining.  Sanji will be there.  Folks haven’t seen you in years.  It’ll be good to at least show your face for a few minutes.”

“I’ll stop by, Pedro said, “For a few minutes.”

“Come with me, so I can hold you to that.”

Pedro sighed, walking to his dresser and pulling out his coat.  He followed Shishilian out of his house, dropping down to the forest floor.  They chatted about the newer models, Shishilian always having something sardonic to say about the new generation.  As they drew closer, Pedro began feeling more and more nervous.  He wondered what it would be like to see Sanji again.  He had slunk away from the photoshoot quickly, overwhelmed by the sensation of holding Sanji close.  The sight of the fine hair standing up on Sanji’s arms, the blue of his eyes, the strong cut of his jaw.  Pedro’s heart had been racing the entire photoshoot, something he was certain would be clear from the photographs.

When they stepped into Mokomo Café, Pedro was immediately surrounded by former colleagues chattering at him, but his eyes were drawn to Sanji, sitting at a corner table with his human companions.  He lifted his hand and gave Pedro a small wave and a shy smile, and Pedro felt like melting into a puddle.

“Let’s sit with Sanji,” Carrot said, linking her arm into Pedro’s and skipping toward Sanji’s table.

“Hi,” Sanji said, scooting over to make room for Pedro.  He sat down gingerly, and Carrot crowded next to him, forcing him toward Sanji.

“Hello, Sanji,” Pedro replied, “I’m glad to see you’re not bedridden with a cold after what your photographer put you through.”

“Humans are made of pretty strong stuff,” Sanji said, eyes twinkling, “Don’t worry.”

Pedro chuckled, accepting a cup of tea from Wanda, who sat down across from them.

“Sanji was just telling us about some of his colleagues.”

“We’re a pretty eclectic bunch,” Sanji said, and the woman next to him snorted.  She trained her gaze on Pedro, and Pedro suddenly felt like all his secrets were being read like a book.

“Nami,” she said, extending her hand.  Pedro shook it awkwardly.  “Brook and Chopper,” she said, pointing to a tall, thin man and what looked like a baby mink.

“A pleasure,” Pedro replied.

“Great shoot yesterday,” she said, sipping juice from a straw, her eyes still pinned on Pedro.

“Unexpected, but I thought it went very well.”

“It did.  Everybody was very impressed.  Sanji really came alive with you next to him.”

“Nami,” Sanji whispered, and Pedro could see the tips of his ears were red.

“Shishilian mentioned he was going to ask if you’d come back with a short-term contract to model with Sanji on his remaining shoots.”

Internally, Pedro groaned.  Shishilian had found a powerful ally in Nami.  He could tell he would be pestered about this on multiple fronts.  He snuck a glance at Sanji, who was looking hopefully at him.  At the end of the day, that was really all it would take, Pedro knew.

“He mentioned it,” Pedro said.

“Will you do it?”

“I’m considering it seriously,” Pedro said, “It’s been a while since I’ve modeled.  I don’t want to make Sanji’s job even more difficult.”

“Please do,” Sanji said, almost breathlessly, and Pedro was ready to take Sanji to the moon if he asked.  He opened his mouth, then closed it again, seeing Carrot’s face break out into a wicked grin.

“As long as you are okay with it, Sanji,” Pedro said finally.

“Shishilian,” Carrot sang, “Pedro said yes.”

Pedro looked up at the thatched roof of the café, trying to find strength in the curves and interlacing patterns.  When he looked back down, Sanji was smiling into a cup of coffee, and Pedro had to take a sip of burning hot tea to stop himself from smiling in kind.

---

Sanji

“I’m afraid of moving,” he whispered to Pedro, looking with wide eyes at the gorgeous robe draped over his shoulders.  The rose pattern was hand-embroidered in silk, the craftsmanship of it was stunning.  Pedro was in a simple white cloak, again open in the front.  Kurau Jewelers had bedecked them in matching rings and earrings.

“Saint Bell always makes me feel like a trussed peacock,” Pedro replied, “Once, they dressed me like Void Century royalty, with the frilled shirts and doublets.  I could barely move.”

Sanji giggled.  “I remember that photoshoot.  I think you were just modeling a designer backpack.”

“Exactly, why I had to dress like an endogamous, inbred prince from Mariejois, I have no idea.”

“Slip your arm into Pedro’s, I want to see clasped hands,” Shishilian called.

“Apologies again,” Sanji whispered, following Shishilian’s command.  He linked his arm into Pedro’s and held Pedro’s large hand in his own.  It looked strange to Sanji, but Pedro curled his fingers tightly and Sanji felt giddy at the feeling of soft fur between his fingers.  They had done a few photoshoots together already, and each one made Sanji feel like a baby model, stumbling around with little to no grace.

Pedro made Sanji feel relaxed, filling their photoshoots with questions about East Blue, his old restaurant, his favorite food to cook and to eat.  The shoots always passed quickly, too quickly, Pedro disappearing immediately after each.  Sanji wondered if Pedro really enjoyed modeling with him, or if he had been pressured into it by Shishilian and his other colleagues, or even Sanji himself.

“Last outfits,” Shishilian called, and Sanji waited for his robe to be taken off carefully.  He looked on in awe when a similar one was fitted onto Pedro.

“Wow,” he said, “You… you show that look off a lot better than me.”

Pedro looked down at him, cocking his head, his eyes warm.

“Sanji, I’m planning to use all of my contract money to buy that cloak for you and insist you wear it constantly, even as pajamas.  You looked stunning.”

That was an unfair comment, and Sanji’s face catching on fire was the result.

“Just bury me,” he said, crouching down on the ground, “You can’t say nice things to me.”

“Come on now,” Pedro laughed, pulling him back up, “Let’s finish the shoot.”

“Will you have to head out right after?” Sanji asked carefully, letting Shishilian position them face to face.  Brook pulled his hair into a low ponytail, arranging his curls around his neck before backing away.  Sanji looked up at Pedro, standing so close he was practically resting his cheek on Pedro’s chest.  He wondered if he would ever get used to the intimacy of posing with Pedro.  He had done pair modeling before, but never with someone so much larger than him or in poses that were quite so… close.  He had learned that minks did not share the same hang-ups about personal space as humans, and Pedro himself never seemed to mind how close Shishilian arranged them.

“I—” Pedro said, “I don’t have anything to do after this.”

“Do you want… could I cook for you again?  Or get some coffee?  I don’t have plans for lunch, could you spend it with me?” 

Pedro’s face looked torn at Sanji’s offer, and he knew immediately that he had overstepped.

“I bet Nami and Brook would be interested too, or we could take a rain check—” he began.

“I have a better idea,” Pedro said, “A picnic.  How does that sound?  I’ll take you to Zou Mountain.  I know a few places we can try.”

Sanji felt his face light up, the offer making him unbearably happy.

“It’s a date then,” he said, hearing the click of camera shutters behind him, Shishilian furiously taking photos.

---

Pedro

It’s a date then.  Pedro was beginning to feel that Sanji was put on this earth for the sole purpose of making him lose his mind.  He knew he was out of his depth after the first shoot, but each subsequent one brought him closer and closer to the conclusion that Sanji had been designed by some higher being, concocted, formulated to be exactly Pedro’s type in some kind of laboratory for longing.

Sanji was gracious, funny, thoughtful, charming.  He treated all the staff like family (the meal he had made a few days ago for what seemed like half of Zou would be talked about for decades).  He was diligent, coming to each photoshoot prepared by seemingly memorizing the entire catalogues of Zou’s fashion shops.  He was brave, filming a shoot in mid-air, various safety harnesses strapped on underneath a three-piece suit.  Curious, spending time asking about plants and geological formations endemic to Zou.  Shishilian had begun an impromptu shoot just from seeing Sanji frowning at a red palm frond.

But Sanji was also here for two weeks, more than half of which had passed in a blur.  Soon, he would return to East Blue, back to a life among humans, and Pedro would be left with photographs from their photoshoots and a yearning stuck in his throat.

And yet, here he was, with boules of bread, various jellies, smoked fish, cheese, all laid out on the soft fern floor looking out at the sparkling sea from the top of Zou Mountain.  Just because Sanji asked.

Sanji, slightly tipsy from a plum wine that Pedro had found in one of his cabinets, was on his back, looking up at the sky, face bathed in late afternoon light.  He was telling a story about his coworkers, Luffy and Zoro, involving a photoshoot on some rooftops where one or maybe both had gotten stuck in chimneys after a series of dares.  Sanji laughed, bright and brilliant, when he talked about the other models, his friends, with none of the usual animosity and jealousy that Pedro associated with the human fashion agencies.

“You must miss them quite a bit,” Pedro said.

“A little,” Sanji said, “Don’t tell them I said that though.  Especially not Zoro.”

“I would not have the opportunity to,” Pedro noted.

“You could come visit East Blue,” Sanji said, turning his face to look at Pedro, “Take a vacation during retirement.  I’ll show you around.”

“That sounds lovely,” Pedro said.

“You said that in the way people do to let others down gently,” Sanji said, pouting.  He rolled over onto his stomach, resting a cheek on his hands, the other flushed and rosy.  It was agonizingly cute.

“We don’t leave Zou often,” Pedro said, by way of some explanation.

“Mysterious Zou,” Sanji said, voice muffled as he buried his face in his arms, “Minks and your attractive photos and your awesome fashion and your super hot models.”

Pedro chuckled at this and began to clean up their picnic.

“Let’s get you back down to Zunesha,” he said, “Shishilian will have my head if I keep you from being in peak condition for the remaining shoots.”

“Don’t want this to be over,” Sanji muttered, refusing to move.

“We can go on other picnics,” Pedro said.

“Not the picnic, just everything.  I don’t want this job to be over.  It’s too wonderful here with everybody.”

“I’m sure Shishilian will want to invite you back, Sanji,” Pedro said, “Everybody here is enraptured by you.”

“Are you?” Sanji asked quietly.

“I am including myself, yes,” Pedro said, smiling.

“It’s not annoying to shoot with me?”

“Sanji, it has been a true pleasure, getting to know you both during our photoshoots and outside of them,” Pedro said, shocked that Sanji would ever think otherwise.

“Okay,” Sanji said, pushing himself upright, “You’re not allowed to change your mind later.”

“I won’t,” Pedro replied.

“I might need some help getting down the mountain,” Sanji admitted, peeking over the edge at the rustling treetops below. 

“I can assist,” Pedro said, taking Sanji’s hand gently and helping him up. 

“Don’t let me fall,” Sanji giggled as they made the descent.  “Please,” he added, completely unnecessarily as Pedro knew if he let Sanji fall, his first instinct would be to make himself into a soft landing spot.

“Of course I will not let you fall.”

“If I had another glass of that wine, I’d be asking you to carry me down.”

“I would,” Pedro said, “Your wish is always my command.”

“Don’t promise that.  I can be very demanding.”

“And I am very accommodating.”

Sanji laughed, his body a warm line against Pedro’s side. 

---

Sanji

The feeling of Pedro’s breath against his neck was going to be the end of him.  He was stock-still as Brook fussed with their hair.  They were shooting for Whale & Gate, specializing in jeweled handbags and accessories.  To highlight the delicate raindrop earrings for the summer beach look, Shishilian had ordered that Pedro and Sanji’s hair be braided together, forcing them into the closest proximity of their shoots thus far.

“We’re starting.  Nose in neck,” Shishilian shouted, and Sanji heard Pedro make a huffing sound, warmth spreading against his collarbones as Pedro nuzzled closer.

“He’s enjoying himself entirely too much,” Pedro muttered.

“Uh huh,” was all Sanji managed to say.  Luckily, he didn’t need to do much other than stand there and try not to grind his teeth too audibly.  He closed his eyes.  The bergamot scent of Pedro’s shampoo and soap was overwhelming.

“I apologize if this makes you uncomfortable,” Pedro rumbled, “I can speak with Shishilian after this.  Or now, if you wish.”

“N-no, it’s fine,” Sanji said, his heart trying to jackrabbit out of his chest at the feeling of Pedro’s lips moving against his shoulder.

“Look over here, Sanji,” Shishilian called, and Sanji reluctantly opened his eyes, certain that the camera would be able to capture his inner turmoil.  He could see Nami standing next to Shishilian, a small smile on her face as she watched the scene.  He let out a breath and looked suspiciously at her as she whispered something to Shishilian.

“Pedro, closer, a hand on Sanji’s waist.  I want to get a shot of the rings.”

Sanji let out an undignified squeak from Pedro complied.  His shirt was cut slightly short, designed to show a strip of skin, and Pedro’s hand was a brand resting directly against his hip bone.

“Sorry,” Pedro said, voice breathy and low.

“I’m fine, everything’s fine,” Sanji said, voice cracking slightly.

Pedro pulled away and turned to glare at Shishilian, who stopped taking photos.

“A break and a word, Shishilian.”

“O-oh,” Sanji said panicking.  Models were not supposed to let small things like a hand on a hip stop them from finishing a photoshoot with professionalism.  “Not on my account.  I’m good to go.”

“Let’s take five,” Shishilian replied, and Brook ran over to undo the braid of their hair.  Sanji felt like he had failed when Pedro stomped over to the side, following Shishilian, a stormy look on his face.  Brook led him over to Chopper, who offered him a glass of water that Sanji gulped gratefully.

“I fucked up,” he said to Nami when she joined them.

“You did no such thing,” she said, “We’ll be back to shooting in a bit.  You’re allowed to take breaks, Sanji.”

“Pedro thinks I’m an amateur,” Sanji sighed.

“I’m sure he doesn’t.”

“I’ve ruined everything.  They’ll think human models are babies and can’t handle a little skin contact.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, dear Sanji, you are acting a little strange,” Brook said, threading his bony fingers through Sanji’s hair and undoing his braids.

“Been a long week,” Sanji said.

“Just one more shoot after this,” Brook said, “We’re on the home stretch.  You have been fabulous.”

“Just one more shoot,” Sanji repeated, looking toward where Pedro and Shishilian were still talking.  Pedro’s arms were crossed as he glared at the photographer.  Both of them looked toward Sanji, who stood, eager to begin again.

“I’ve got what I need, Sanji,” Shishilian said when he sauntered over, “We can end earlier today.”

“A-are you sure?  I’m happy to take more,” Sanji said, his heart sinking.

“You’ve been perfect.  You’ve truly made my job easy.  Tomorrow’s shoot will be your last, and I want to make it a solo shoot to really highlight you.”

He had messed everything up, somehow, Sanji now knew.  Pedro didn’t want to work with him anymore.  He looked down at the ground, touching the hem of his silk shirt.

“Thank you, Shishilian,” he said, tamping down the worry and regret in his chest and looking up with as big a smile as he could manage.  “It’s been an honor working with you.  If I don’t see Pedro again, can you pass on my gratitude that I was able to model with him?”

Shishilian hesitated at this, looking quickly behind him before leaning forward.

“I’m not sure he’ll attend the banquet tomorrow.  But he’ll be at the shoot.  I’d recommend coming a little earlier and looking for the tallest mountain ash.  Check the branches about ten feet up.”

“Okay,” Sanji said, confused, “But I don’t want to bother him.”

“He’s stubborn.  And, despite his age, childish and insecure.  Have a good chat with him.  He…”  Shishilian paused, as if unsure what to say next.  “He is very fond of you.  Please don’t take his taking a break as a commentary on your performance.  It was more for his… condition.”

“I don’t understand,” Sanji said, wondering if Pedro was ill.  He hadn’t shown it.

“Just talk to him tomorrow.  Tallest mountain ash.  Those are his favorites,” Shishilian said, winking before sauntering away.

---

Pedro

Pedro settled onto the branch, making himself comfortable.  There was a crowd slowly gathering, close to the clearing where Sanji’s last shoot would be taking place.  There was still another half hour before any of the crew would show up.

He was embarrassed with himself still.  Being so close to Sanji during yesterday’s shoot had been excruciating.  Each time Sanji moved had sent tremors running through him.  When he heard the tiny gasp from Sanji when Pedro had touched his hip, Pedro knew he had to pull away or he would do something he would regret.

He would find a way to say goodbye.  Maybe a letter given to Sanji from Carrot that might go some of the way toward explaining everything he felt for the human.  And apology, a half-confession, a note full of professional admiration.

Letting out a long sigh, Pedro put his face in his hands and rubbed his fur until he must look like a madmink.

“Everything okay?”

If Pedro had been any less agile than the most agile of cat species, he would have fallen off the tree branch.  He looked down and saw Sanji gazing up at him, a quizzical look on his face.

“Hello,” he said, foolishly.

“Hello,” Sanji replied, “Sorry to have surprised you.”

“Not at all,” Pedro said.  He leapt down, landing lightly in front of Sanji.  “Are you lost?”

“No, I was looking for you,” Sanji said, “Shishilian said to find the tallest mountain ash.  As if I’m supposed to know what a mountain ash looks like.  I’ve been wandering around looking at trees to see if they have any Pedros in them for half an hour.”

“Of course Shishilian told you that,” Pedro sighed.

“I don’t have much time left,” Sanji said, looking toward the clearing, “I… I just wanted to say goodbye.  Shishilian said you probably wouldn’t come to the banquet.”

“I see,” Pedro said, suddenly unable to think of any words.

“So… goodbye, I guess,” Sanji said.  He looked down at his shoes.  “Thank you, for modeling with me.  I was nervous when I first arrived, but you made everything so easy.  And also, sorry too.”

“Sorry?” Pedro asked.

“I guess you didn’t really want to do the contract,” Sanji said, voice sheepish, “I feel like you got dragged into it, and then, I don’t know what I did yesterday, but I wanted to apologize.  For whatever it was.”

Sanji peeked up at him, blue eyes obscured by dark lashes.  He was unbearably lovely.  Pedro’s heart was in his throat.  How could he communicate his pure longing without making Sanji feel even more uncomfortable?  Pedro had been prepared to let Sanji go, but the hesitation in Sanji’s shoulders, as if he doubted himself, wasn’t something Pedro could leave him with.

“Sanji, the past few weeks have been something of a miracle to me,” he said quietly, “I have enjoyed every second of modeling with you.  There is nothing for you to apologize for.  Yesterday… I— I fear I have grown to care for you too much, and that was the reason I pulled away.  I’m sure Shishilian has told you I’m an old fool, and for once, he’s right.  I didn’t want to burden you with all that, but I also don’t want you to think that you are anything less than perfect.”

He was rambling now, unable to control the words exiting his mouth.  Sanji had listened through the monologue, patient, though his jaw was now slack as he stared at Pedro.

“I… wish you the best,” Pedro said, backing up, “On your last shoot.  I hope you enjoy the banquet tonight.  The festivities will go on for hours.  And I wish you a safe journey tomorrow.”  He would feel too strange to watch Sanji’s photoshoot now.  He would return home and maybe catch a glimpse of him as his ship left port.

Sanji still hadn’t said anything.  Shishilian would be annoyed if Pedro made Sanji show up to the shoot distracted.

“Sanji—” he began.

“What do you mean when you say you care for me too much?” Sanji asked.

Pedro ran a hand through his hair.  “I like you.  Though, ‘like’ is perhaps not enough to encompass the full feeling.  Adoration?  Love?  I have been curious about you, since I saw your information packet.  Spending time with you has only served to make me care for you more.  You have been such a distraction to me, Sanji, welcome though it has been.”

“I see,” Sanji whispered.

“Go on to the shoot,” Pedro said quietly, “I’ll be cheering you on for your last one.”

Instead of leaving, Sanji grabbed onto his hand, intertwining their fingers.

“Come with me,” he said, tugging at his arm.

“Sanji,” Pedro said, trying to add a warning to his voice, “I should go home.  I’ve dropped too much onto you this morning.”

“Come to my last shoot.  Please,” Sanji said.  Pedro closed his eyes, throat tight at the soft “please.”  The word from Sanji’s lips would make him move mountains.  Resigned to his fate, he let Sanji lead him toward the clearing, the crowd parting as they walked along.  Sanji’s hand was warm in his own, every so often giving him a reassuring squeeze.  When they arrived at Sanji’s prep area, Pedro sat awkwardly to the side as Brook set to work.

Sanji, eyes closed as Brook added a light layer of foundation to his already clear skin, began speaking.

“There’s a shelf in my house that is full of Zou magazines.  I’m missing a few, and I’ve been meaning to ask Shishilian if Zunesha Studios might have any in archive,” he said lightly.

“I’m sure we have some,” Pedro replied.

“The first one I have was from many years ago.  You were modeling a double-breasted pinstripe suit.”

“I recall that one.”

“I started modeling because of you,” Sanji said, eyes still shut as Brook sprayed a mist over his head, setting his hair.  Brook, a small smile on his own face, gave Pedro a nod before he exited, leaving them alone.

“An honor,” Pedro replied.

“When I came to Zou, I thought maybe I would get to say hello to you once.  And then I met you in a farmer’s market and you bought me snacks and fruits of every shape and color.  Then I got to see your home and the trinkets and strings hanging from the ceiling.  Then I got to model with you and hear the rumble of your voice when you kept me calm.  You’ve always been my idol, Pedro, but getting to know you has been the most special part of this experience.  I like you, more than you seem to know, though I thought I was being very obvious.”

Pedro’s mouth fell open at this statement, which was accompanied by the full force of Sanji’s smile.  Wreathed in the morning light, Sanji looked like something out of a dream.

“Sanji, you’re up,” Shishilian called.

“Watch me, please,” Sanji said quietly, standing up and brushing by Pedro.  He left a lingering hand on Pedro’s shoulder before he was striding after the photographer into the center of the clearing, surrounded by wildflowers, ferns, and old old trees.

Pedro, as requested, watched Sanji turn his eyes to the camera.  Dressed in a cream blouse, dark leather pants and brown boots, his hair pinned back and braided with a crown of white flowers, Sanji was a vision.  The crowds of gathered minks were so silent, Pedro could hear the click of Shishilian’s camera.

In a moment when Shishilian was readjusting, Sanji’s head turned, his eyes locking onto Pedro’s, and he smiled, something that might just be love reflected in blue.  And Pedro finally let sink in the understanding that his feelings were reciprocated.  It was almost painful, to not be at Sanji’s side now.

But seeing Sanji in the spotlight was worth the wait.  The photoshoot passed quickly, Shishilian’s tail swishing wildly as he took shot after shot.  Pedro rarely saw him as excited as he was now.  When it was over, Pedro shifted anxiously as Sanji spoke with Shishilian, then with his agent, then with Brook momentarily, before he finally made his way back over to Pedro.

“Did I do alright?” he asked, standing close.

Moving slowly, Pedro placed a hand on Sanji’s cheek, who instantly leaned into it, curving into Pedro’s touch.

“I thought Shishilian was about to faint from joy halfway through,” he said.

“He did seem particularly chipper.  I thought maybe he was just happy to be done with me.”

Pedro huffed out a laugh, eyes drifting to Sanji’s smile.

“You like me,” Pedro said softly.

“I do.”

“I like you.”

“That would make very happy if it were true.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“That’s still plenty of time,” Sanji said, a challenge in his eyes.

“May I kiss you?” Pedro asked, even quieter.

“You may.”

Pedro looked around cautiously, turning them so his body was blocking Sanji from view.  He leaned down, touching his lips gently to Sanji’s cheek.

“You can do better than that,” Sanji whispered in his ear.  Pedro kissed both corners of his lips, chuckling at the huff of annoyance from Sanji.  Hands came up to his face, gripping at his fur, and he was being guided into a kiss, heat curling in his body at the feeling of Sanji’s soft lips.

“Come to the banquet,” Sanji said, when they broke away, “Sit next to me.”

Pedro nodded, prepared to do anything Sanji asked, his words an inexorable force.

“Let me stay with you tonight,” Sanji continued.  Pedro nodded again, transfixed by the liquid warmth in Sanji’s eyes, which crinkled at the corners at Pedro’s assent.

“Come to East Blue,” he said, “Stay with me longer.  Don’t let me go.  Please.”

Pedro tucked a stray hair behind Sanji’s ear and touched the white flower in Sanji’s hair.

He nodded.