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In all the chaos that was the Straw Hat’s reunion, Nami hadn’t noticed.
After all, there’d been a crew of weirdos stealing their identities, the Marines were hot on their tail, and there’d been a creepy mud-guy hanging out on the Sunny.
Plus, everyone was different! Franky was like twice his old size, Usopp was buff now, and Robin was walking around with a towel tied across her waist. It hadn’t been until they’d begun their descent into the depths, eager to reach Fishman Island, that Nami recognized the biggest change of anyone in their group.
At first glance, she’d just assumed Sanji had stopped getting haircuts, but it was more than that. There was a swell to the chest, no scruffy facial hair on the cook’s chin, and a definite shift up an octave in Sanji’s voice. In fact, Nami found herself appreciating the way her friend had grown. In a purely platonic, professional way, of course. She wasn’t staring. Not at Sanji. That would be ridiculous.
She wasn’t the only one to notice, judging by the looks their chef was getting as they all sank into the deep.
Before she could find a moment to bring up the topic in private, Sanji beat her to it. “Hey, everyone? Can we meet in the kitchen?” It was strange to hear the question from Sanji, not only because of the change in pitch, but also because it was asked almost apologetically.
Soon, everyone was gathered, looking at Sanji, waiting for the one who’d called them all together to start. Sanji was blushing, more than Nami had ever seen, and looked nervous. “Hi everyone, so...” The cook took a deep breath. “I’ve noticed some of the staring. That’s fine, we’ve all changed, but I had been hoping you’d all notice and accept it and move on. Clearly, that was stupid, so I’m just going to make this announcement and we can get back to normal. I’m-”
“A woman,” Zoro interrupted. “Yeah. We know. No reason to call everyone together just to say that, idiot.”
Nami, in fact, hadn’t known , but once it was said, it was obvious. Those blonde curls cascading down the back of Sanji’s neck, the way her suit fit her new curves, but most of all, that smile. Sanji’s smiles had always felt heartfelt, but they’d never looked this real. This genuine.
A frying pan hit Zoro in his face. “Why’d you have to say that, you moss-haired jackass?!” Once Sanji’s anger passed, she seemed to settle into unease once again, unable to look at the rest of the crew. “He’s right, though. I am a woman. Always was, just... needed some time to figure it out. I hope that doesn’t change anything.”
“Why would it?” Luffy asked, looking absolutely baffled. “It isn’t going to make you a worse cook, right?”
Sanji struggled not to laugh. “No, captain, it’s not going to make me a worse cook.”
In full doctor-mode, Chopper looked up at Sanji, clearly annoyed. “Sanji, you should have told me sooner! We’re going to do a check-up later, and that’s final!”
“Sure thing, Chopper,” Sanji said, though her voice warbled a little on the way out.
Leaning casually against one wall, Robin was wearing one of her effortless grins. “Well then, Miss Chef, can we expect the same treatment from you we’re used to?” Something about how Robin said the word ‘we’ made it obvious to everyone she was referring to herself and Nami.
Flinching, Sanji replied, “A little? I’ll probably still dote on you both more than the guys, but... I realize my behavior from back in the day probably made you feel pressured and uncomfortable. That was never my intention, and I’m sorry. I want to be a good friend to everyone here.” She paused, and in a far drier tone, added, “Except Zoro. I’ll be giving him as much shit as always.”
That started Usopp and Chopper laughing, which quickly turned into a group hug of the whole crew with Sanji at the center. She fought it as long as she could, but eventually the waterworks came. It was obvious she’d been worried about how everyone would treat her, now that she’d come out.
When the meeting was done, everyone left the kitchen aside from Sanji, who was ready to work on a meal, and Nami, who...
What do I want? she asked herself, watching Sanji as she skillfully started prepping a proper feast for everyone reuniting. Her eyes tracked the swiveling of her hips, the dexterity of her fingers, the extra padding to her thighs.
Gathering up her courage, Nami spoke up. “Sanji.”
“Yeah, Nami? Something you needed?”
Nami bristled. No ‘Nami-swan’, no deluge of compliments... even though now, of all times, Nami actually wanted them! Part of her wanted to growl some curses and storm out, but... no, she shouldn’t be upset. Sanji was trying to behave herself. “I’m impressed that you’re not falling all over yourself for me.”
Pausing in her work, Sanji turned, only one eye visible past her bangs. The chef’s eyes were serious, curious. “Do you want me to do that?” There was just a hint of playfulness to her words.
“Maybe a little!” Nami threw up her hands, but after a second, she and Sanji both started laughing.
“I figured you weren’t interested after the two hundredth time taking the dessert and leaving me behind.” The comment was said without any obvious rancor, but it stung Nami regardless.
She tried to gently push back. “And yet, you kept lavishing the attention well past that.”
Sanji, still focusing on the cooking, just shrugged her shoulders. “I love you. Same as I did back then. Only now, I’m not jealous of you.” She paused, looked down at her chest, and sighed. “Well, not as jealous, I guess.”
“Give it time.” Then, without her mouth consulting her brain first, Nami continued, “Besides, you look good enough already.” A blush spread across her cheeks, but she didn’t take the statement back. What would be the point? Sanji looking cute was a verifiable fact, all she’d need was a mirror.
With a laugh on her lips, Sanji turned around, leaning over a counter. At some point in all that cooking, she’d undone the first few buttons of her shirt, allowing her cleavage to be well and truly visible. “Yeah~?”
Nami realized, numbly, that she was walking closer, eyes unable to look away from the valley of plenty before her eyes. Then, as she reached the other side of the counter, she numbly realized blood was trickling out of her nose. “I’m-” she started to say, before she collapsed right into Sanji’s chest, mind fuzzy in the best way possible.
“Nami? Are you okay?” Sanji’s hands, so much softer now, were on Nami’s shoulders, trying to keep her steady without pushing her away. “Should I call Chopper?”
With the last of her strength, Nami raised a shaky thumbs up and pulled herself away, eyes looking elsewhere as she moved to wipe the blood trail off of her face. “I’m f-fine, it’s nothing to bother Chopper about.” She had no clue just how red her cheeks were, but she imagined them to be about the same hue as Luffy’s new sash.
The concern ebbed away, and it was replaced with something Nami had never seen from Sanji before. Nami was used to the chef being a lovestruck idiot, a meathead ready to get into scraps for now reason, and even on rare occasions being just a little suave.
What she was not prepared for in the slightest was for Sanji to grab Nami under her arms, carry her to the nearest wall, and push her against it. Her face was a study in amusement, and that only made the fluttering feeling in Nami’s stomach even worse. “Nami, I’m starting to think you might like my new look.”
“I, well, t-that is...” Nami’s words failed her, her nose starting to bleed once more as she focused on just how close she and Sanji’s faces were to each other.
Sanji leaned in, pressing their lips together, and Nami relished the chance to surrender herself to the tall woman she knew so well.
She soon found herself with just as many hand-crafted desserts delivered to her as she remembered.
Only this time, Nami was the one with hearts in her eyes.