Archive of Our Own ^beta

Yellow carnations, a symbol of rejection and disdain.

Sanji scoffs at how fitting it is.

Sitting in the bath, steam filling the room, he watches as the delicate petals float above the warm water. It's the first time he bothers looking at them, really looking at them.

On the many other times they were expelled from his body, he'd jumbled them in his hands, thrown them overboard without giving them a second glance. If they'd fallen to the floor, he swiped them away along with the dust, threw them in the nearest trashcan and closed the lid with more force than necessary, a resigned click of his tongue accompanying it.

Now, he scoops them in his hands, the water draining in between his fingers, and feels their soft texture against his palm. How can something so pretty, so smooth, have the power to bring so much demise along with it.

He's always been aware of his family's despise for him, of how he was never acknowledged as one of their own, and feeling the flowers sprout inside of him and claim every nook and cranny they can reach only confirms it.

It brings a different kind of pain with it, a pain that transcends physicality and is different from the rejection he faced as a kid. It's been with him for a just as long, except it used to be duller, hiding behind all the hardships he had to face, but it grew slowly, sinking its sharp thorns in his flesh, both literally and figuratively, as his feelings solidified and the plant's roots started squeezing his insides.

The pain and the petals combined are proof of his body rebelling against itself for not having his love reciprocated, and thinking back at it, Sanji realizes there was never an escape for him.

It all started when he was a kid. It was a tightness in his heart at first, almost imperceptible and mostly masked by the pain he already felt all over his body. In between being subjected to his brothers' beatings and being prodded and tested by numerous scientists, he could barely discern it from the ache in his limbs. The only difference was its persistence. While physical bruises eventually faded, this tightness never relented. It continued throbbing, a reminder that something was wrong with him, but it was light enough that he often forgot about it, as preoccupied as he often was with other issues.

Many times he considered talking to Sora about it. As his mom, he naturally assumed she'd be able to put a name to what was troubling him or, at the very least, knew she'd listen to him and tell him everything would be ok.

Nevertheless, he never did it.

Out of consideration for her, he held back. He didn't need her worrying about yet another part of him that was broken, not in her state.

She had reassured him multiple times before that everything he thought was wrong with him wasn't actually broken, that he was beautiful and perfect, and that little flaws were what made him human, made him her beloved son Sanji. Still, he wasn't fully convinced, but in his intent of not becoming a burden to her he turned to books instead.

Sanji remembers reading a particular brochure in the confines of his secluded and too small bedroom once. He'd gotten it at the library, enticed by its size, and had sneaked out with it when no one was looking.

He'd flipped through the pages, stopping at the ones that had drawings of plants and of rare animals on them, and in one of those he remembers reading about a rare disease that made flowers bloom in your chest. It originated from unrequited love and would squeeze your lungs until that love was either finally reciprocated or you died of heartbreak.

Coming from a family that felt no love, he wondered if the tightness in his chest was related to that disease, if it was a manifestation of the longing in his heart from Judge's lack of affection. Wondered if his mother's sickness was the same. It worried him, making his heart beat fast and his tiny hands shake, but after taking a hold of himself, he was reassured in realizing neither him nor his mother had symptoms associated with it.

Lying in his cold bed, holding the book carefully against his chest, his mind wandered. It fascinated him that something capable of sprouting beautiful flowers could also be so tragic in its purpose.

It was weirdly comforting to know other people also suffered, even if for different reasons. In the vast world, he wasn't alone in his solitude.

A tiny part of him wondered if someday he'd witness someone being foolish enough to fall for one of his brothers and become a victim to it. In his experience of simply attempting to get closer to them, to befriend them, to play with them at the very least, he'd only been met with mockery and kicks in return, and he could only imagine how devastating it'd be to have your deeper feelings completely crushed by them.

Another part of him wondered if, perhaps, in another cruel strike of fate, if he ever managed to escape from this life, he'd be the one experiencing such a thing, meeting someone dear to him only to realize he was indeed undeserving of love; as if the pain he was constantly feeling didn't leave enough ugly marks on him already.

After his mother passed, the grief in his heart overcame the tightness he'd been experiencing. He could only think about surviving. He'd been given no time to mourn her and the iron bars of the cell he'd been thrown in offered him no solace.

Locked up inside stone walls, in a place deep inside the castle where light barely hit, it was easy to last track of time. He couldn't tell when morning came or when night fell, couldn't tell if he was sleeping out of exhaustion or passed out from his brothers' beatings.

The recipe books salvaged by Reiju and the pots and pans she managed to smuggle him were what allowed him not to lose track of himself. They were what kept him grounded, focused on his passion and on improving his skills, so hopefully one day he'd be able to use them outside that cold cell.

It could've been months or years until freedom finally came to him and it was once again a product of Reiju's help.

Sanji still remembers her tear streaked face, yelling at him to run and never look back. It'd been painful to let go of the last person that minimally cared for him, but if he wished for a better future, or a future at all, that was exactly what he would have to do, go far away and forget about his past.

It hadn't been easy.

The heaviness in his heart increased tenfold as soon as he stepped out of the kingdom and he refused to attribute it to missing the place, or worse, to missing the family that had disowned him. Instead, he was quick to connect it to the adrenaline of the escape and the dread of being by himself from that point onwards.

The uncomfortable feeling followed him to the Orbit, the ship that had taken him in thinking he was just a lost kid; his malnourished state certainly made it seem like it. After he could stand on his feet without shaking like a leaf he had profusely thanked the crew and all but begged them to let him stay and cook in their kitchen.

As the pain in his chest didn't relent after his recovery, nor after the staff's positive answer, he determined it came from the nervousness he felt around the more experienced chefs, from having to share the same space as them when the best think he could cook couldn't even be considered mush.

The situation he was in wasn't much different from what he had to do back in Germa on the years his mother had still been alive. He'd asked the royal chefs if they could spare a small corner of the kitchen for him, before realizing his best option was to sneak around and hide his endeavors from everyone, lest Judge found him out.

Now, however, instead of mocking him and telling him a prince shouldn't stoop so low as to do a commoner's task—no matter how much of a failure he was—, the cooks in the orbit only patted him in the head and told him he still had a long way to go before he could play with the big guys.

Having an initial training that consisted in observing the bustling restaurant, assisting the coming and going chefs and waiters, and in learning the differences between each knife used in the kitchen was a complete change of scenery from what he was used to. When remembering the last years spent in a cold cell, with nothing but a tiny stove and a few pans he could barely scrub clean, the difference became even more jarring.

He was left with shimmering eyes, observing all the chefs' movements with rapid attention, eager to get his hands on the pristine knife kits and cutting boards and start working for himself. But they had other plans for him, adamantly telling him he should start with smaller tasks first.

Sanji assumed they were just taking advantage of finally having someone to do the dishes, peel the vegetables and swipe the floors, but he didn't complain, it was still better than anything he could've imagined.

Simply being in the kitchen already gave him multiple opportunities to look over the chefs' shoulders, take in the speed in which they cut vegetables and sliced through meat, and to get used to new seasonings and spices while hearing the sizzling of the pans as delicious aromas wafted through the air.

The experience wasn't much, it was barely anything at all when he really thought about it, but he made the most of it.

In between helping out in the Orbit's kitchen and tending to the waiters, his mind had no time to wander and the memories of his old family were mostly casted aside, only resurfacing late at night.

Tired after a day of work, he'd lay on his new bed, tucked in a corner of his new room—a cubicle that used to be a janitor's closet before being assigned to him upon his arrival—,and the tightness in his heart would seem to spread to his lungs, making itself known again by taking his breath away.

He'd try to get comfortable, toss from one side to the other and tuck himself further into the worn duvet that'd been given to him, all while his mind switched between rummaging through the instructions given to him by his coworkers and struggling to forget the memory of Reiju yelling at him to run while his brothers laughed and chased after him. Except, that last part didn't really happen, he was sure of it, it was only his subconscious playing tricks on him by conjuring up something it knew his brothers were capable of.

The heavy feeling in his chest was persistent and sometimes he'd rise from his half asleep state with an explosive cough that didn't last long, disappearing along with the itching in his throat before he could think of doing anything to sooth it. He'd sit in the dark, duvet pooling at his legs, confused and with his breathing in disarray, but as the beating of his heart slowed down he'd fall asleep again.

Finally being allowed to cook, to touch the knives and the pans, wasn't a big a deal as Sanji made it out to be. He'd been waiting for the opportunity for months and didn't even care when the rest of the staff laughed at him as he held a cleaver in his hands like it was a precious graded sword.

A chef tapped him in the shoulder not long after, hiding a laugh behind his other hand, and pointed him to a smaller knife so he could get started on basic garnish preparation and on chopping vegetables for soups and stews. Sanji powered through the blush spreading on his cheeks and carefully did as instructed, meticulously even, like he's seen the other cooks do before, and tried not to grin too much when they told him his misshaped potatoes weren't half bad.

Sanji believed things would only get better from there, but a pirate attack to the Orbit put everything on halt for the longest 85 days of his life.

Sanji fondly remembers that after the incident with Red Leg Zeff his mind went on overdrive, all jumbled up thoughts and new worries. Along with the old man, he put all of his efforts and spent all of his time and energy working to build a restaurant from the ground up, and watched with teary eyes as his new home slowly but surely materialized in front of him.

Finding distractions in the Baratie after that was as easy as breathing.

The organized chaos of the kitchen, pots and pans sizzling up and bubbling up, orders being called left and right that had Sanji on his toes to get everything prepared on time. On the saloon, the constant buzz of clients talking amongst themselves, the clatter of silverware against the porcelain dishes and the patter of the waiter's shoes on the wooden floor had his eyes shining and his mouth opened in awe.

The rumbling in his chest increased, but for once, it was because of how excited and motivated he was.

But it wasn't all flowers. Initially, Zeff's rigorous, and somewhat violent, discipline tactics dampened his mood. Dodging his attacks didn't came naturally to him, just like it'd been against his brothers.

Memories he wanted to forget resurfaced, he'd flinch on instinct as soon as Zeff marched towards him with fiery eyes and would raise his hands to cover his head in preparation for a blow. His behavior didn't go unnoticed by the older man and earned him a raise of an eyebrow along with some confused grumbling. If Zeff's fist had been raised it'd sometimes fall back to his side and sometimes open to awkwardly ruffle Sanji's blond hair.

After a while, Sanji accepted it wasn't the same as the treatment he used to receive back in Germa. Zeff had no previously experience with kids and Sanji could recognize he was a handful more often than not. The old geezer was trying his best to show him affection but also keep him in line.

By getting over that, Sanji thought the tightness in his chest would mellow down again, but staying in the Baratie brought him another challenge.

Working on the salon made him witness to countless happy families, that'd walk through the restaurant's doors to have a good time and share a meal together. He didn't imagine there'd be so many, even tried counting them on his fingers during one of his shifts as a waiter, but after only half a day he realized the norm was to be surrounded by people that loved you and made you smile, not by people that hit you and belittled you.

The longer he observed them, the more he realized not all families were the same, though neither were like his biological one either.

Some came in to celebrate birthdays or spend time together, others clearly took the change of ambience to discuss important issues over a glass of wine, leaving their kids forgotten on their seats twiddling with their fingers.

On rare occasions, a kid would run wild, set havoc on the restaurant. They'd bother other patrons, sneak around to shove at the waiters and make them drop their serving trays. Some of the parents would look ashamed at their behavior and contain them after a desperate and harsh scolding, but others would simply look, roll their eyes and continue their meal like they had nothing to do with mess their kids were creating.

Sanji would giggle at their antics sometimes, when Zeff wasn't looking, but after all the patrons had left and all the bustling had died down, he'd feel a wave of sadness run through him, reminding him of something he never had and never would.

The cogs in Sanji's little brain would turn, making the connection that maybe, if his brothers had had the chance to spend any time with their gentle and loving mother, instead of being subjected to Judge's experiments and intense training, they would've turned out different.

He tried not to think too much about it, there was nothing that could be done now and they weren't a part of his life anymore, but seeing so many smiling and loving people every day didn't let him forget.

He started experiencing coughing episodes, similar to the ones he had on the Orbit at night, but in the Baratie they'd happen at any time of the day, often when he was in the middle of work, and get him completely off track.

Zeff tried to get him to see a doctor after catching him coughing one too many times in the pantry. Sanji would scurry there to hide his little problem from everyone else, but, in a busy restaurant, it was only a matter of time until someone was in need of a particular ingredient and accidentally found him amidst the racks of dried meat or behind the bags of flour and rice.

Sanji told him it was nothing, that it was just some stupid allergy. "You should get someone to clean this room properly, old geezer!" He had screamed at Zeff and coughed even harder to get his point across.

A vein popped on Zeff's forehead at the nerve of the kid and Sanji found himself on cleaning duty for the foreseeable future. It was a tedious task and not directly related to cooking, but it kept the old man from asking any more questions, so he was fine with it.

Besides, he didn't like doctors anyway.

Eventually, Sanji got used to the coughing episodes, but it only came with also getting used to his new life on a ship filled with brute cooks.

He schooled himself into not jumping at Paty and Carne's overly excited yells, that were as loud as Judge's irate and disappointed ones, but friendly and affectionate at their core. Trained his ears to recognize the thump of Zeff's wooden leg walking across the floorboards, which was similar to the thud of his brothers' wooden swords hitting the castle walls as they looked for him, but in contrast indicated a warm presence instead of three feared ones.

Sanji thought things couldn't get any better than what he had at the Baratie, but when Luffy came crashing down on their deck, all rubbery limbs and wide smiles, his life was tilted on its axis for the third time.

Between the captain's ludicrous wish to become the pirate king and the unconditional support of an unconventional crew, Sanji discovered a new meaning to the word family. He felt so drawn to them he didn't know what to do with himself.

His heart was accelerating, thumping like it hadn't in a long time, and his hands were sweating as he shakily left the place that'd been his home for years.

Like every other change that'd happened in his life, however, this new chapter came with a new obstacle. The sight of Zoro's green hair and his antagonistic attitude towards him made him grimace on instinct at the realization he'd have to share a tiny boat with him. There was a lump in his throat that he forced himself to swallow down, keeping himself together just like he's done back at the Baratie while serving the swordsman.

Sanji wondered how long it'd take for him to get used to the man, but after witnessing Zoro's fight against Mihawk and the power and strength of his resolve all of his preconceptions about him fell flat. He wasn't anything like Yonji.

Sill, a lump formed in his throat again, except it was in fear for Zoro's life instead of in fear of him. He watched as Zoro recovered wrapped up in bloodied bandages, grunting with each movement he made but unable to stay still for more than five minutes. Sanji told him he was being careless, but behind his rash words he felt nothing but admiration for the man—though of course, he'd never directly tell him that, he'd let their play fighting speak for itself and let it translate into the respect he felt for him.

One-sided issues with Zoro out of the way, Sanji hated to admit it but Nami's constant screams and chastising sent shivers down his spine on their first few days sharing a boat as well. Despite his best efforts, it undid part of what he'd suppressed after living with Zeff for so long and he unconsciously retracted into himself every time she had one of her rage episodes.

His gentlemanliness never let them show, however, not in front of anyone, and specially not in front of a lady, always hiding them with his flowery twirls or by rushing back to the kitchen and tightly gripping the sink until his hands stopped shaking.

Like with everything else, it took him a while to adjust, but, by the time they came face to face with the Reverse Mountain and entered the Grand Line, he realized he'd finally found his family. He felt accept, he felt seen, he felt like he finally belonged. He didn't crave for the acceptance of his biological family anymore.

Surrounded by a crew with the wildest of dreams he didn't feel like an outcast anymore and for the first time the fluttering in his chest was a welcome feeling.

To this day Sanji doesn't know what prompted him to use the Mr. Prince alias against Baroque Works. Maybe he wanted to see how it rolled off his tongue, feel how it'd be like to be addressed by the title he once carried. Or maybe he wanted to face the thrumming in his chest head on, prove he didn't care about his past anymore.

Whatever it was, after everything had been said and done, he continued being an outcast Vinsmoke and the pain didn't relent either, it was suffocating, like it was mocking him for even trying.

At least, his crew thought he looked cool.

Nevertheless, successfully tricking one of the most dangerous organizations in the world gave him confidence to go after Robin in Water 7 before anyone else even got a hint about where she might've been. He also doesn't know how much of a difference his efforts made, but in the end, he found himself celebrating Robin and Usopp's return, and a new addition to the crew, in the form of a cyborg, along with everyone else.

It was when they were celebrating that he had the chance to really take in said cyborg. Franky was extravagant, all upper muscles, metal body parts and lack of pants, but what really struck Sanji was his hair.

Blue and wavy in an odd shape, Franky's hair made his lungs almost cave in on themselves and a lump to form in his throat. The fluttering in his chest twisted, searing pain cutting through his heart and lungs, and knocking the wind out of him.

The final blow was the way Franky immediately addressed his as "bro" as soon as they had a chance to properly introduce themselves to each other and Sanji felt the words clumping up in his mouth, refusing to form into coherent sentences besides a short greeting.

While the festivities happened, he excused himself discretely and scurried through the narrow paths of the Galley-La, hiding behind wood beam piles to avoid being spotted. As the sight of their new ship came into view, already completed and only waiting to be taken to the sea, his feet automatically took him there, to his new safe place.

Sanji climbed up the rope ladder and landed on the brand new grass deck on wobbly feet, grateful for how soft it was as he almost fell face first into it. He took a heaving breath and steadied himself, stumbling across its expanse and into one of the ship's shiny wooden corridors.

He entered the men's bunkroom and almost let his body crash against the first pair of bunk beds, catching himself last minute by holding onto its edge and letting it swing with his weight. A coughing fit wrecked through his body and he felt his heart and lungs being squeezed all over.

He didn't remember ever having an episode like this, it'd been too long since he felt trapped by his past. His memories went back to all the medical books he'd read as a kid, wracking his brain to find an explanation for what could be wrong with him, and landed in a passage in particular that'd comforted him at the time, making him feel less alone knowing other people also longed for something they couldn't have.

He recalled the symptoms were listed in a bullet point list, dreadfully realizing he was more than familiar with some of them, and were followed by diagrams of many rooted plants with the respective flowers that bloomed from them. The name of the disease flashed in his mind and he shut his eyes tight, willing it to dissipate and not torment him again. The possibility was real and his head spun as his throat tightened again, though this time it was more in disheartenment than solely due to the weird symptoms he'd been experiencing.

He swallowed hard and shook his head, the wooden bed creaking under the pressure of his fingers and seeming like it'd rip off the chains holding it in place as he braced himself not to smash a closed fist against the wall instead.

This couldn't be it. What he'd read about the disease had to have been nothing more than old tales, he'd never heard about anyone contracting it! He should ask Chopper about it later, after his mind had cleared. He should tell him all about what he'd been experiencing since he was a kid, after he felt ready and comfortable enough to bring up his troubled past.

For the time being, he'd choose to believe the itching in his throat was his body screaming for nicotine. Every time it happened he'd lit up a new cigarette to soothe the need, take a deep drag to let his mind and lungs go numb. If he had any other coughing fits, it'd obviously be due to the smoke entering his lungs and nothing else.

Eventually, he'd talk to Chopper, but for now he wanted nothing more than to continue on with his day and pretend everything was ok.

Except, nothing was ok and in the span of weeks the Strawhat's lives were turned upside down. From Luffy and Zoro sustaining life threatening wounds against undead enemies and rescuing a mermaid friend from an auction, Sanji found himself separated from his crew, thrown in a heart shaped island that made his head spin more than the symptoms he'd been fighting against.

He remembers his time in Kamabakka Queendom with a grimace. Its resident queens had tried to get him to open up to them and his stomach twisted at the mere idea. He hadn't even told his crew, which he trusted with his life, about what'd been happening to him, so what made them think he'd trust them instead? It'd been a futile attempt.

He spent the two years flying away from them, dodging their attacks and denying their advances. Two years surrounded by pink fields covered in pink flowers that spread pink petals in the air, dreading that what his future held in store for him would be similar to any of it. On top of everything else he hated about that place, it just made him even more sick to think about it.

After his return to the Sunny and the initial shock at how much everyone had changed, Sanji easily fell back into his comfortable banter with the guys and extreme adoration for the girls.

He took his place back in the kitchen, feeling a sense of belonging as he opened cupboards and set pots on top of the stove. It came naturally to him to swat Luffy's hand away when he tried stealing a snack from the fridge and it was second nature to grumble unintelligible at Zoro before handing him a bottle of booze.

He applied the recipes he learned on Momoiro Island to the meals he prepared for the crew and tried not to think too much about how he started decorating the girl's desserts with pink frosting and delicate flowers.

After a few days, it also became impossible to miss the way the crew shook their heads and rolled their eyes at seeing him smoking more than he did before their separation. Sanji appreciated their lack of questioning and judgement—other than a nasty side glare from Chopper, that was more adorable than anything, really—, though with him bleeding out at the mere sight of a woman he guessed they had more pressing matters to worry—or scoff—about.

Perhaps, under other circumstances, Sanji would've felt slightly guilty for rushing down a path that'd surely shorten his life, but the prospect of directly facing what was wrong with him kept him set on indulging in as much of a distraction as his body would allow him. It wasn't like it'd make that much of a difference anyway; if his suspicions were to be confirmed, his lungs would still collapse, and sooner rather than later.

His plan was working well enough and that was all that mattered.

At least, up until Zou.

The news of his marriage, of his family seeking him out to fulfill their dirty schemes, reached Sanji in a rare moment of peace. The Strawhats had just aided the Minks in the aftermath of their battle against one of Kaido's lackeys when Sanji was forced to face a part of him he'd been doing everything in his power to forget.

Under threats, locked away by Bege's devil fruit powers, he felt trapped, with nowhere to run, both literally and figuratively.

His inner child screamed at him, begging him to fight and not follow the mafioso, while a gentler side of him, the one that always looked at the bright side of things—and wouldn't act any differently despite the mess he was in—, perked up at the idea of seeing Reiju again. He hoped she'd been doing well.

Meeting Reiju, however, meant he'd also certainly meet his brothers again and the squeezing feeling in his chest became harder to ignore the more his mind filled with memories of colorful hairs and cruel laughs. It wasn't just his heart and lungs anymore, there was also something at the base of his neck, just under his throat, carving a space for itself and almost chocking him in the process.

Sanji cleared his throat and shook his head, refusing to dwell on that thought any longer and willing the images away.

His sudden movements and odd behavior were interpreted by Bege as an indication of him struggling against his fate, a fact Sanji noticed as he grimaced at the lopsided smirk the man sent in his direction. Still, it was better this way. In this situation, the last he wanted was to have another weakness of his exposed and give even more fuel to his biological family to laugh at yet another thing that was wrong with his body.

As Bege's ship ran its course towards Totto Land, Sanji sagged against a chair and ignored the dread of having to face Judge by counting the cigarettes he smoked every time the prickling feeling in his throat returned.

Sanji remembers how the fated reunion didn't even need to properly happen for his lungs to seem like they were caving in on themselves. While being escorted through the streets of Whole Cake Island, an intense pain surged through his body and he forlornly recognizes how used to it he's become now; it doesn't bother him nearly as much as it did back then.

On that day it'd been bad to the point he raised a hand to his chest, squeezing the fabric of his dress shirt and almost ripping it in an attempt to create more room for him breathe. The garment felt constricting, too tight over his chest and itchy around his neck. He discretely undid a couple of the top buttons hoping it'd ease his discomfort.

Not only did it not help, it also made it easier for whatever was inside him to spread further. There was something scratching at his throat again, irritating the soft tissue there and making his eyes water. It was more insistent and harder to ignore than what he experienced while trapped by Bege, and, for once, he let his body convulse freely as he coughed as hard as he could as soon as he was left alone in one of the suites of Big Mom's castle.

He wheezed and engaged in multiple attempts to clear his throat, obtaining a relative degree of success, but the whole process left him with a throbbing pain in his ribs that forced him to slump against one of the armchairs in the room so he could catch his breath.

If simply staying on the same archipelago as his brothers caused such a reaction, he could only imagine how bad it'd be once the wedding ceremony began and he was forced to be in close proximity of them.

As if the universe was listening to his fears, ready to prove to him he didn't have to wait for the wedding for things to take a sharp turn for the worse, he caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eyes.

Looking out a window, he noticed there was some sort of commotion outside. He watched with batted breath as royal guards from both the Charlotte* and Vinsmoke families marched in position, keeping curious onlookers and reporters from the World Economic Journal from reaching the people they were protecting.

Surrounded on all sides by heavily armored personnel, Judge walked in front of everyone, hurriedly but with his head held high, glaringly showing the disdain he felt for the peasants gawking at him.

Sanji gasped shakily and averted his eyes, searching for the next person that was to come through the gates before bad memories took residence in his mind and smiled when they finally entered his field of vision.

Reiju walked calmly, tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear and looking as pretty as he remembered, albeit obviously older. The action was delicate, her lean fingers curling around her hair and languidly fixing it in place. Sanji knew better, it was a deliberate move, made to entrance those around her while perfectly hiding her deadly abilities.

The sound of more footsteps, heavier ones, reverberated against the castle walls outside and filled Sanji's ears. He knew he shouldn't look, for the sake of his health and sanity, but his body was already moving without his control.

He followed the deep thumps with rapid eyes. His breathing, that'd already been uneven before, turned into short intakes of air and his heartbeat increased, all the loud noise outside being canceled out as blood rushed into his ears.

As if in slow motion, he focused on the people walking behind Reiju, standing in all of their royal glory: the three princes of Germa.

Sanji's breath caught in his throat and he raised a hand to his mouth—if to keep himself from making any startled noise or to stifle a cough, he wasn't sure. A shiver ran down his spine and his hands were trembling. He could feel the light tremor of his fingers against his mouth, could feel the goosebumps erupting all over his skin, but his eyes stayed glued on their target.

The way his brothers walked was regal, with their chins held high and gazes straight, exuding power and indifference for the people surrounding them.

Their builds were completely different from what he remembered. They weren't three scrawny boys anymore, they were tall and muscular, a stark contrast from him, and their bodies filled their outfits perfectly, though he could notice Yonji's biceps almost bursting through the seams of his sleeves.

Sanji had to force himself to look away when he caught himself swallowing hard at the sight of more of their muscles bulging in their arms and thighs, straining against the expensive fabrics.

He slumped against the chair again, chest heaving as he waited for his heart to stop beating so erratically. He felt like the walls of the suite were ready to cave in on him, just like the heaviness in his chest was ready to squeeze the life out of his lungs.

He could tell the state of overdrive his body was in wasn't entirely caused by the fear he expected from seeing his biological family after so many years.

Although his body still remembered the beatings and his mind still hang on to the demeaning words, he didn't long for their familial affection anymore, he didn't want to fit in with them anymore. But a naive part of him wondered—wished—if his brothers had changed at all, if they were less cruel now, if they'd tolerate his presence without lashing out.

As those thoughts flooded his mind, the squeeze against his lungs became more painful. He felt restless, his mouth going dry and his hands becoming clammy. He uselessly wiped them on his shirt, only to feel the intense thump of his heart through the thin fabric covering his skin.

He was shaking with adrenaline, breathing heavily and almost choking as he tried taking in huge lungfuls of air. He slowly corrected his posture on the chair, hoping to assist his body in calming itself down, but he couldn't keep his eyes from chasing after his brothers again. Call him narcissistic, but he couldn't deny how they looked gorgeous in their royal attires, powerful and breathtaking.

It was impossible to ignore how his body became increasingly warm the more he stared at them, how the blood rushing through his veins was making him flush all over. And he hated to admit it, but he was completely entranced by their sight.

They'd always been strong, he'd been a front seat witness to it, enduring more beatings from them than he could count. And now, he supposed it wasn't any different, their strength grew along with their physical bodies and his traitorous mind encouraged him to revert to his old role.

Painful memories took in a new shape and a voice at the back of his head taunted him, telling him they could break him oh so easily, though in more ways than he ever dared thinking about.

Sanji's stomach twisted into knots. The years of abuse they had inflicted upon him were still fresh in his mind and he'd never sorted through his emotions to ever consider forgiving them. To have both his body and his brain steering him in this dangerous direction, lecherous and needy in nature, irrational by all means, made him lightheaded.

He drew in a blank when trying to remember when his feelings for the three changed. He guessed it was safe to assume not only had the smoke from his cigarettes masked his coughs, it had also fogged his mind.

As a child, he yearned for a loving and accepting family, and he'd found that with the Strawhats. That place in his heart had been filled, so why did he still feel emptiness eating at him, like another hole had been formed?

It'd been years since he last saw the Vinsmokes, years since he stopped considering himself one of them, but there was something else he longed for that wasn't familial nor platonic. Whatever it was, it'd crawled in between the hatred and fear he harbored for them and made him feel like his head was as messed up as his brothers'.

He tried reasoning with himself, searching for a plausible explanation for the erratic beating of his heart and the squeezing in his chest that wasn't the Hanahaki disease, but he came up empty handed.

His head was spinning and his throat was closing up. Tears were prickling at the sides of his eyes as pain shot through lungs and up his throat. The disease was real and it was growing inside of him, he couldn't deny it anymore. The roots had already covered his lungs and heart, and the thin stems, so many of them, were fighting for space, trickling up his trachea. He raised both hands to his neck, blunt nails scraping against his sensitive skin in a futile attempt to alleviate the prickling and scratching he could feel in the area.

It was becoming increasingly hard to breathe, his mouth opening and closing rapidly, struggling to get oxygen into his system before he suffocated. He rushed to the bathroom as a coughing fit finally racked through his body and cleared his airways. The episode was so intense he involuntarily doubled over the sink, gripping its edge for support as his body convulsed and lurched forward.

A blur of yellow entered his field of vision, and it was only after he recovered his breath and wiped the tears that had streamed down his face that he caught proper sight of it.

A single petal rested at the bottom of the sink, covered in spit.

Sanji jerked backwards, his back colliding with the wall, and his blood froze.

This yellow petal, laying innocuously right in front of him, bright and lively, was the confirmation he needed.

He sank to the floor and closed his eyes, letting acceptance wash over him.

Having a definitive diagnose for his problem did nothing to prepare him from his fateful meeting with his brothers; he gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists to keep them from shaking the whole time he was within Germa's territory, but, despite his wariness, the encounter itself didn't start so terribly.

Yonji offering to show him around caught him by surprise and almost threw him in for a loop; it clashed with everything he'd been expecting. He blinked slowly, letting the words sink in, and, the more they did, the more he wished, hoped with every fiber of his being, that the younger had changed.

Without a second thought, Sanji easily followed after him. There was something endearing about someone so brute and so huge having those sparkly wide eyes, excitedly described all the changes that had happened to the kingdom in the years they were apart.

The illusion was shattered not even an hour later, with Yonji pushing his buttons too hard and him being left with no other option than to shut him up in the only way he knew would work.

He felt almost dejected afterwards. The sense of revenge that he thought would come for finally landing a hit on one of his brothers didn't even give him a pleasant buzz as he collected the broken pieces of the fairy tale he had constructed in his mind.

As if to rub salt on the wound, the shards of his fantasy that he had carefully tucked away were completely pulverized by Ichiji and Niji beating him to a pulp the next day. Sanji couldn't see their eyes, couldn't tell if there was any emotion swimming in them, but their attacks were ruthless and their hysterical laughs spurred them on.

Each punch and kick delivered to his body made his insides constrict. Air was expelled from his lungs through powerful blows and came back in ragged wheezes, meeting resistance in the stems and roots that blocked its passage.

He lost track of time, not even registering when his brothers left him alone in favor of harassing some of the castle's staff.

His entire body ached, face bruised and starting to swell, but he gathered himself up and made his way to the room that'd been designated to him, intent on hiding himself from the world until he had no other option but to leave for the wedding ceremony.

Despite it all, he couldn't shake off the image Yonji smirking as his foot connected with his jaw, nor the image of Ichiji and Niji practically urging him to retaliate their assault with their loud cackles. It'd been different from when they fought as kids. They reveled in the moment, but not because Sanji was an easy target, but because they realized he was finally a match for them.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but it didn't seem too farfetched to consider his brothers thought this was their chance to have him back in their lives.

His heart fluttered pleasantly at the impressed stares they shot his way after they became aware of the damaged he had caused to Yonji. It was a different sensation, having the plant in his chest respond positively to the attention instead of trying to squeeze the life out of him.

Later in the day, Reiju found him laying in his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He didn't bother hiding the petals he had coughed up and instead let them in plain sight, some scattered over the mattress and the floor while most of them formed a halo around his head.

"Sanji…" Reiju whispered, worried and carefully approaching him, and Sanji raised a hand telling her to stop. He raised another hand to his mouth, swatting at a stray petal he could feel clinging to his lips, and used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe at the saliva that had previously dribbled down his neck.

"Don't." he pleaded with difficulty, voice hoarse. "I know I'm a fool."

"You're not a fool." Reiju corrected before Sanji could get another deprecating word out. "You're nothing but kind and too full of love to give, and your heart doesn't discriminate on who to give this love to. It's what makes me proud of being your sister, that and your resilience. If you don't want to talk, I'll respect that and I won't press it, but know that I'm here for you, I'll help you as many times as you need me."

Sanji's eyes softened at Reiju's words, but the forlorn smile on his lips didn't match it. "What good comes from my heart not discriminating when it can't even choose someone able to reciprocate my feelings? I'm choking on stupid petals while those emotionless bastards are cooped up somewhere drinking and snickering at the poor maids serving them." It slowly downed on him that his brothers were most likely still the same, he'd just been imagining things, after all.

As promised, Reiju listened intently and made no comments on his venting. She silently pulled a bench closer to the edge of the bed and used her powers to help disguise Sanji's swollen bruises in preparation to their dinner with Big Mom.

As Sanji watched his face transform in the mirror across the room, he wished Reiju could also make the prickling in his throat disappear just as easily.

Sanji's mind had been made before the dinner with Big Mom and it didn't waver despite Pudding's betrayal. He was hurting both physically and mentally, the hanahaki disease unrelenting as he wept at the tragedy laid out for him. The pieces of his heart, broken from the prospect of being surrounded by people that couldn't stand him and away from those that truly loved him, were continuously squeezed by the strong roots lodged in his chest, and he choked under the rain and on his own tears.

It had to have been a masochistic side of him that compelled him to go through with meeting Luffy. He saw a chance to put his mind and body through another heart-wrenching situation and didn't think twice before taking it.

Except, listening to his captain's genuine words, seeing his captain devour the jumbled and muddied meal he'd prepared with a huge grin on his face, and feeling the unconditional love his captain harbored for him, completely changed his resolve.

He couldn't succumb to his family's whims, couldn't let Big Mom's pirates take advantage of him. Having that stupid disease dictating his feelings was more than enough, he had to take back control over every other aspect of his life that he could.

They were going to crash that marriage. And he was going to save his family, despite everything they've put him through. He'd do it and he'd cut ties with them, for good this time. He was going to escape and never look back.

He could feel his muscles relaxing, fondly watching Luffy inhaled the last bits of rice from the lunch box in his hands. The tension on his shoulders dissipated along with the rain and his mind cleared as the sun shone from between the parting clouds.

Sanji parted from Luffy with a promise to return to him, but the petals he coughed up on his way back to the Whole Cake Chateau were a reminder that there was something else keeping him hostage.

The specks of blood that hauntingly covered some of them remained unaddressed.

Knowing about Big Mom's plan to kill his family and seeing said plan in motion were two completely different things. Sanji couldn't explain the pang in his chest at the hopeless sight of his family stuck to that table, covered and pink goo and unable to move.

Even worse, were his brothers' reactions.

They were horrific, to put it lightly. The three of them were laughing at their own misery, not knowing any better and having no capacity to understand the gravity of the situation they were in. It made Sanji's blood boil, to look to the side and see the contrast between them and the desperation in Judge's wide eyes and agape mouth, in the shrill of his cries begging to be spared.

A distant voice in the back of his mind tried to convince him to leave the man stuck there, but he was better than that, better than him.

A powerful kick was enough to break the hardened candy and it was as if the loud crack it made on impact was the trigger for an unimaginable amount of petals to surge up Sanji's throat. Their velvety texture felt tickly in the confined space of his trachea and mouth, and Sanji swallowed them down in a panic before turning to talk to his family.

He was sure no one had noticed him spluttering, nor the way his lips pursed and his brows furrowed at the taste of blood that coated his taste buds, but was almost certain Reiju still caught a glimpse of yellow at the corner of his mouth before he could fully get rid of it.

Despite their previous conversation, which honestly, had been more of a monologue on Sanji's part, he hadn't let it show how bad his condition really was. The raise of her eyebrows was indication enough that she had been wrong in assuming it was a simple childish crush or the yearning for the family he never had. But this wasn't the moment for her to press and thus she listened to what he had to say.

Sanji laid out the plan to them without expecting any words of praise and gratitude, but he gladly took in Judge's astonished face and the small smiles gracing his brothers' lips.

But he couldn't bask in the long overdue feeling of satisfaction for more than a few seconds. He wasn't naïve to think the Big Mom pirates were going to sit back and watch as they made their way out of the Chateu, they needed to get moving and Sanji was immensely thankful his brothers adhered to the plan without complaint. Judge, on the other hand, kept grumbling, but he was free and not Sanji's concern anymore.

The return to the sunny should've been a done deal after Sanji successfully distracted big mom with his marvelous cake and Luffy's fight against Katakuri was finished, but of course it wasn't going to be so easy. With her two highest in command defeated, Sanji didn't expect the family to keep pushing and ambush them on Cacao Island.

Luffy was unconscious and Sanji wasn't on his best shape either. Surrounded on all sides, he knew he wasn't going to last for too long and everything they'd done up until that point would've been in vain.

Surprised etched onto his face when Reiju and his brothers appeared in front of him, shielding him from the bullets fired at them that otherwise would've surely taken him and Luffy down. Sanji picked his metaphorically jaw off the floor, reasoning the four were simply following the agreed on plan, and took off again, running into a sprint so he'd get enough momentum for his skywalk. Exhaustion was creeping in on him, however, and he was slowing down, flying lower and lower, his vision getting blurry.

His heart almost dropped to his stomach and he nearly cried out when he predictably lost his footing. He shut his eyes tight, preparing for the oncoming impact, and cradled Luffy in his arms so he wouldn't suffer the brunt of it, but instead of falling right into the awaiting hands of his enemies he felt his body being pressed against another one, being tightly held midair by Niji's strong arms.

Sanji looked up at him, eyes and mouth agape, wanting to say something, ask him why, but the words got caught in his throat, held back by all the stems growing inside of it.

Niji's grin and halfhearted insult were the last things he registered before he was flung towards the Thousand Sunny.

Finally back on the safety of the Sunny, Sanji tuned out the sounds of the distant battle and clutched at his chest. Glimpses of his brothers fighting alongside him, protecting him, flooded his mind and the ache in his chest came back full force as a result.

The shortness of breath that hit him was masked by his crewmates swarming and fretting over him, touching his face clumsily and asking him if he was okay. He couldn't tell if the difficulty to get air into his lungs was due to the hanahaki or to the multiple hands encircling his shoulders and pulling him in towards welcoming arms.

It was only after the initial euphoria died down and everyone started trickling out to attend to their duties that Sanji also excused himself and climbed up to the upper deck, doubling over the railing to allow the disease to continue its course.

He coughed for what felt like hours, chest burning and throat turning raw, and when he was done a stream of yellow petals floated on the surface of the water, mockingly pretty and all dusted in blood.

Sanji's head hung low in between his hunched shoulders and he sighed deeply, wondering how on Earth he'd hide this from everyone else.

The battle against Kaido hadn't been that long ago, but Sanji's memories of it are foggy and choppy nonetheless. He remembers his fight against Queen took a huge toll on his body, as expected, though he didn't count on having to adjust his attacks so he wouldn't run out of breath halfway through them. To compensate for his lungs failing him, he had to rely more on his raid suit than he was comfortable with, which wasn't a lot to begin with, and that was another issue on its own.

Why did Niji give him the suit? Was it a way to exert control over him? Was he following Judge's orders to bring him back into Germa's grasps? Or maybe, was it because his siblings cared? They cared and they knew Sanji had a dangerous journey ahead of him, they couldn't let him die and resorted to the only tool they had available to them.

Sanji feels like he's grasping at straws, searching for a smidge of hope for his brothers while vehemently refusing to become like them. He doesn't want to give Judge the satisfaction of using a device developed by him and ultimately opening the doors for the artificial modifications of his genetic code to start taking effect. He destroyed the suit in unbridled determination against his fate, fully aware he was too late but hoping he could delay the inevitable for as long as possible.

Even if he were to ignore this issue and attempt to live a normal life for the foreseeable future, it's not like he'll have sufficient time for it either. He's been feeling weaker and weaker, breathing became a chore that demands too much of his body, straining his muscles when the simple act of inhaling and exhaling is enough to trigger a new coughing fit.

Sitting in Sunny's large bathtub, he can almost pretend he's having a relaxing flower bath, all with the flower petals floating around him and the water taking on a light pink color from the droplets of blood that spilled from his lips. Unfortunately, he isn't that detached from reality yet, no matter how muddled and hazy his thoughts have been.

He closes his eyes and rests against the edge of the tub, pondering if he should follow what he's read being advised on many books. There's a surgery that can cure him, remove the problem by its roots, literally.

The prospect of losing part of his feelings, however, even if they were far from ideal and slowly killing him, doesn't sit well with him in the slightest.

Being unable to feel love for his brothers would make him more similar to them, more similar to what Judge had expected of him, and it'd go directly against what his beloved mother had tried to avoid and what he's been fighting against.

He can't do it and he's ready to give up his life if it comes down to it.

Sanji leaves the bath and heads to the kitchen, intent on using what energy he has left to get started on breakfast preparations for the next day. He comes face to face with Nami in the galley, sitting at the dining table with her eyes closed and holding a steaming mug of tea, elbows propped on the table. She raises the mug to her lips and takes a slow and calculated sip.

"My lovely Nami-san, if you had just waited a few minutes I could've prepared that for you." He laments.

Nami waves a hand to dismiss his worry. "I wanted to talk to you and figured it'd be wise to get something to help me relax first." The tone in which she says it is calm, but she hasn't looked at him yet and her nonchalant posture, as well as the possible contents of what she wants to discuss, worries him.

Sanji nods to indicate he's all ears and busies himself by heating some water on the stove and selecting a few herbs. Making a hot cup of tea for himself as well seems like a good idea at the moment.

"About what you told the crew a few days ago…" Nami starts and Sanji's transported back to earlier that week, right after lunch one day, when he took advantage of having everyone gathered in the same place to tell them about his situation.

The wide eyed stares and open mouths he got from the crew didn't surprise him in the slightest, in fact, they were less than what he expected to get from blurting out he had non platonic, possibly romantic, feelings for his own biological brothers.

He doesn't remember exactly who it was, as nervous as he'd been, but it was probably Usopp, with Luffy nodding seriously by his side (or as seriously as he could manage to be), that said it was okay, they weren't going to judge him.

And honestly, with what they'd all witnessed of Luffy and Ace back in Alabasta, Sanji should've figured it'd have turned out like this. He was grateful.

While Luffy had given him a thumbs up after the meeting was over and the rest of the crew moved on with their lives with a well-intentioned threat of "if those assholes hurt you again we're going after them", he could still tell some of them wanted to say more.

Everyone was obviously concerned about him. Even before he told them what was going on they could already see the bags under his eyes, the stronger rasp of his voice and how he'd often taken breaks while cooking. But as none of them had pulled him to the side to address it, Nami took the matters into her own hands and cornered him herself.

He's been avoiding this moment for days, being wary of the times Nami would hover around him after dinner or reach out an arm for him when he was serving the ladies their afternoon snack. He'd always dodge her advances, give her a forced smile that barely reached his eyes and ask her if she wanted a drink or anything else to eat before she could get a word out.

The look of frustration on her face afterwards was impossible to miss, as well as the way a frown would appear on her brow and the way her eyes would frantically scan him up and down as if screaming something was clearly not right with him.

Now, however, he has nowhere to run.

He sits in a chair in front of Nami and places his mug on the table, "Yes, Nami dear, what about it?"

"You know about the surgery, right? A few books in the library talk about it. I'm sure Chopper could perform it if you wanted it. After Whole Cake Island I can't stand seeing your life go to waste because of those three."

Sanji's eyes go wide at the navigator's outburst. His heart swells up at the worry she's so clearly displaying, but he's mind's been made.

He reaches out a hand to envelop one of hers, "I'm flattered to be on the receiving end of your concerns, my angel, but I know you understand I could never give up a part of myself like this."

Nami bites her bottom lip to keep it from wobbling and squeezes Sanji's hand back. They finish drinking their tea in silence.

Sanji should've predicted more of his crewmates would try searching for an opportunity to voice their worries to him after Nami opened the floodgates, but he still raises a surprised eyebrow when, the following day, Zoro walks into the kitchen early morning looking for a quick snack after finishing his watch instead of going straight to bed.

Sanji's been preparing breakfast, making sure everyone will have their stomachs full to explore the island they can see in the horizon, and doesn't bother turning to greet him, only grunting to acknowledge his presence.

Zoro sits at the table and a plate of onigiri is placed in front of him. Sanji considers reaching for a cigarette in preparation for what was to come, but with how bad his lungs have been he opts, again, for a cup of tea. He huffs out a small laugh at how this setting is similar to his encounter with Nami the previous night.

Zoro raises an eyebrow as he watches Sanji's movements, how he initially reaches for his shirt pocket, where his cigarettes are, before his empty hand falls back to his side. There's a pause before the blond opens a cupboard and takes out a teapot.

Minutes tickle by, water is boiled and the aroma of ginger and lemon fills the air. Sanji eventually sits in front of the swordsman, hot mug in hand and the teapot to the side, ready in case he needs a refill. Zoro shakes his head when he catches up to his actions.

"I thought the Whole Cake Island incident was the stupidest thing you could've ever pulled, but guess I underestimated your stupidity." Zoro tells him and Sanji splutters indignantly with a mouthful of tea, but he continues before any insults can be yelled at him. "We can't even spar anymore without me getting a handful of petals spit on my face. And honestly, that's kind of cheating, you know you can't beat me in a fair fight so you're using shady tactics to put me at a disadvantage."

Sanji scoffs and playfully kicks him on the shin from under the table, initial anger forgotten. "And yet you haven't won a single match, we keep ending on a draw."

Zoro clicks his tongue and stuffs his mouth with another onigiri, deeming the subject finished.

Sanji rolls his eyes and blocks the smile pulling at his lips with his tea mug. "You know," He comments after taking a sip, "That's not the only thing we're the same at now, Marimo, I've also stooped down to your level and found myself growing plants inside of my body."

Zoro frowns and corrects him with a serious face, "I have plants growing outside my body, on my head. Not inside."

It's silent for a couple of seconds, only the sounds of Zoro chewing filling the room, and Sanji blinks as he processes what he just heard. When he finally does, he doesn't bother stifling the laugh the wheezes out of him and immediately chokes on a few flower petals, startling Zoro and making him jump from his seat to his aid. Sanji takes another sip of tea to swallow them down and keep everything under control, but sends Zoro a grateful glance nonetheless as the swordsman sits back down on his chair.

As he recovers himself, Sanji contemplates that not only is he grateful for Zoro's rapid reaction, he's also thankful his relationship with him didn't change after the man was made aware of his condition.

And not only him, honestly. Sanji's thankful the crew as a whole didn't seem too weirded out about his situation when he spilled the beans to them. He knew they would never react on a judgmental way, nor direct mean remarks at him, but the sideway glances, the pitying looks and the silent questions of "why them" weren't something he wanted to deal with. They wouldn't do it with bad intentions, obviously, instead because they cared for him, but that wouldn't have made it any better to him.

He's pulled out of his thoughts when Zoro clicks his tongue again. "I didn't have the chance to punch your brothers back then, but, if I ever get to meet them, they won't be lucky a second time."

Sanji laughs again, carefully this time, and reaches across the table to punch Zoro lightly on the arm. "Whatever you say, you overprotective moss."

Contrary to what he claimed, Zoro does not punch them.

The Strawhats dock at the island a couple of hours later and while Sanji decides to stay behind to rest the remainder of the crew grabs their packed lunches and prepares to leave the ship. They were still loaded with the produce they'd gotten from Wano and Sanji trusted Jinbe with purchasing more of the few ingredients they'd run out.

Chopper and Brook are setting the rope ladder down when they abruptly stop in their tracks, eyes glued to the small port below.

Their frightened state prompts Nami to ask what is taking them so long, approaching the pair with hands on her hips and a raise of her brow. "We don't have the whole day, why did you stop?" She questions, glancing down below.

And that's where she sees them: multiple snail ships anchored, all branded with a bold "66" at their fronts. Walking in circles next to them, three people with colorful suits clearly searching for something.

Nami gasps loudly and takes a faltering step backwards, which catches the attention of the rest of the crew.

They have no time to react; the four siblings arrive on the Sunny with all the grace that comes with being a Vinsmoke, flying dramatically through the air in colorful beams and landing in striking poses that seem straight out of a super hero comic book.

Ichiji takes the lead, stepping in front of the other three and demanding they speak with Sanji. "Where is he? We must to talk to him immediately. And alone." He adds the last part with a different edge to his voice, almost imperceptible but not missed by his sister.

The request puts everyone on edge and Reiju, standing to the side, sighs tiredly and shakes her head.

Even though they're aware of Sanji's condition, the memories of Whole Cake Island are still fresh on some of their minds and, for the ones that didn't personally witness it, the recounting they heard of the whole debacle was more than enough to make their shoulders tense and the hairs at the base of their necks to stand up.

It's silent for a few moments, tension heavy in the air, and Zoro's already in position to draw out his swords. A calm nod from Luffy is all it takes for everyone to take a relieved, albeit shaky, breath and for Franky to point the Vinsmokes in the direction of the man's room.

Usopp scurries back behind the cyborg as the three brothers walk past him. This might be the first time he's seeing Sanji's biological family, but from what he's been told about them by Chopper, Brook and Nami, they look as imposing and dangerous as he imagined, their faces devoid of any expression and their steps powerful and unfaltering.

Despite the scene Usopp's making, neither of the three stray from their goal of reaching Sanji and don't even spare him a glance.

Reiju attempts to placate him, sending him an easy smile that does nothing but cause a shiver to run down his spine. She laughs airily and the sound brings back the feeling of uneasiness the crew experienced initially with their arrival.

Robin is quick to take action and sprout a few arms around Reiju and a few around Zoro, who's just taken a threatening step in the woman's direction.

Reiju raised both hands as an offering of peace and after another nod from Luffy, Zoro and Robin step back and everyone scatters around the deck so they can wait and talk. Reiju really owns them an explanation considering their last encounter had been less than ideal.

She takes a seat on the circular bench that surrounds the main mast, ready to explain their journey up until this point.

The news of Kaido and Big Mom's defeat were quick to spread and, along with them, so were detailed updates on the Strawhat's after the big fight. It was obvious the government was trying to attract bounty hunters to do their dirty deed for them, baiting them with big, exaggerated headlines about Luffy and his crew taking a break in Wano to recover.

Reiju refrained from sharing any of it with her brothers when the news reached them. There'd be no point as she figured they wouldn't care and, at most, would only throw a backhand comment about Sanji finally doing something worthwhile.

What wasn't her shock, though, when they did the unexpected and practically gave her an ultimatum, crumpled newspaper held tightly in Ichiji's hands. They were going after Sanji, check if he needed any repairs to his raid suit, and she was free to come along if she so wished.

Obviously, Reiju wouldn't pass up the opportunity of seeing her beloved brother again, but their reasoning still brought a sly smile to her lips. She knew a terrible excuse when she heard one.

To further confirm her suspicion, she not so subtly might've let some details about Sanji's unusual disease escape, making a comment in passing about how it didn't surprise her they seemed worried about a canned suit but not about their dying brother. From there, she observed with amusement as the three vanished from her sight and didn't waste any time snatching a few of Germa's many ships, turning them around and leaving a screaming Judge behind, furiously brandishing his spear at them from the main gates of the castle.

Predicting the course the Strawhats would take to Laugh Tale wasn't difficult, as there were only so many islands after Wano. Checking them out one by one would've been a straining and long task for most, but Germa's naval power made it as easy as taking candy from a baby and it was only a matter of time until they docked at the same place and found the opportunity to confront Sanji.

Ichiji, Niji and Yonji, as expected of them, enter the men's room without knocking or announcing they're coming in. Sanji almost jumps out of his bed when he sees them walking through the door, looking as nonchalant as ever and completely unapologetic for invading his privacy.

The presence of the three makes Sanji's throat prick as soon as he recovers from the initial shock of seeing them and his airways start constricting. He wheezes, trying to take in some much needed air, but it's like the path for it has been blocked, leaving him with no other option but to choke on whatever's causing it.

It's clearly different from the previous episodes, he's never felt this breathless before. It's as if the plant has shaped itself into a lump, closing the path to his lungs and refusing to budge. The coughing intensifies and three pairs of arms rush to keep Sanji upright on the bed as his body lurches forward. Strong but gentle hands run down his back to soothe him and a warm feeling envelops him, making him flush on top of the blush that already covers his cheek due to the exertion. 

"Hanahaki, huh…" Ichii states matter-of-factly. All three of them had heard about the mysterious illness that had befallen their estranged brother through Reiju. They were skeptical at first, scoffing at the absurdity of the symptoms and outright laughing at the idea it could be fatal, but she had witnessed how bad it was back in Whole Cake Island first hand and slowly they realized she wasn't joking. Cynical smiles slipped from their lips the more she described the scenes of incessant coughing and of petals being barely concealed behind a pair of trembling hands.

Having the knowledge that they were the ones responsible for this mess involuntarily stirred something inside them. They had no idea what it meant, it was a foreign sensation that they didn't recall ever experiencing before. They just knew they had to do something about it, confront Sanji so they could go back to normal.

Being faced with the state Sanji's in, however, only makes the weird sensation worsen, their chests feeling heavy and their minds reeling. They know there's nothing wrong with them physically, their latest tests and screenings told them as much, and that only frustrates them more. It's rare, if not unheard of, for them to experience something they can't explain.

"Only someone like you would catch such a stupid disease." Niji adds and Yonji snorts at his side.

Sanji resists the urge to roll his eyes and scoff bitterly in favor of taking calculated deep breaths to get more oxygen into his lungs.

"Only you and your stupid bleeding heart would fall for the only three people that can never reciprocate your feelings." Niji continues, turning away from the bed at the sight of Sanji closing his eyes and working on his breathing. He sounds clearly distressed, his voice wavering halfway through the sentence and taking a tone so high it could easily pass as a screech.

With his breathing back to normal, Sanji opens his eyes and follows Niji's movements. He notices his closed fists, the way he paces near the wall and holds himself back from punching a hole in it. His body is shaking all over and he grits his teeth after finishing his halfhearted scolding.

Sanji sits back against a propped up pillow and raises a brow. What Niji's showing is evidently an emotion. It might not be the one Sanji wishes he'd show, but it's enough of a step in the right direction for a sliver of hope to bloom inside him.

He can't be sure of the full extent of the inner conflict his brothers seem to be going through, nevertheless, being used to their impassive faces and controlled body movements makes it easy for him to recognize they aren't behaving normally. At all.

They're displaying signs of anger and frustration and Sanji doesn't know what to make of it. Usually, the only thing his brothers are capable of externalizing is a sadistic smile, that perfectly complements their absolute disregard and disinterest for human matters. On top of it, none of them seems bothered by the fact Sanji harbors romantic feelings for them, which, honestly, shouldn't come as a surprise considering they were raised without any ounce of morals.

Once again, a pleasant warmth flows through Sanji, though the rational part of him grimaces at the confirmation he's indeed as degenerate as the three, albeit in a different manner.

Although he'd rather not create false expectations he can't help the way his heart starts beating slightly faster and his hands become clammy, like a teenager getting excited after finding out they have a chance with their crush.

His body is clearly not listening to him and the rumbling in his chest increases, making him heave to expel a handful of petals through his mouth. He braces himself for another violent coughing fit as his brothers' arms come to his aid once again.

His eyes close automatically, tears clinging to his eyelashes as he slumps forward to let spit and leaves and more petals out of his body. A flower bud comes out with one last wheeze and Sanji has half a second to stare at the blood covering it before his attention is drawn to the sound of a tongue clicking in annoyance.

"Fuck Judge!" Yonji nearly shouts and Sanji holds his breath at the realization that this is the first time he's seen any of them showing any signs of rebellion against their father. He doesn't miss the flinch that courses through Ichiji's body and, to the side, he sees Niji, still unable to cool himself off, growl in accordance.

Sanji's breathing comes hard and fast, his ribs hurt, but that doesn't keep him from reaching for the bedside table with some difficulty and pulling out a pack of cigarettes from the drawer. With a shaky hand, he places an unlit stick in his mouth—Chopper had forbidden him from smoking when he became aware of the disease—, hoping the familiar motion and feel of it will calm him down a little.

The cigarette being unlit doesn't stop Niji from striding over and snatching it away, however. "Don't worsen your condition, idiot!" He grumbles and returns to the position he was in before, pacing aimlessly around the room.

The action startles Sanji and the absurdity of it catches up to Niji as well a couple of seconds later. Niji stops his pacing and looks to the floor with furrowed brows, confused by what he's just done. He steps in Sanji's direction, seeming like he wants to ask if he's ok, maybe even apologize for acting so abruptly, but stops again when he realizes he doesn't know how to do any of that. His brows furrow further, even more taken aback by the notion he's worried about his failure of a brother.

As expected, removing the cigarette from Sanji's mouth does nothing to placate his condition, but it downs on him that the more emotions his brothers display the more his chest hurts and the more he coughs.

The next episode is intense enough to make his body hurl forward on its own, head bobbing violently as his throat spasms. He spits blood, multiple leaves, petals, and flowers in full bloom. They're big enough he's struggling to pass them, the stems catching on his bruised airways and the big petals clinging to his insides, blocking his breathing almost completely.

Ichiji stares at Sanji dumbfounded, frozen in place as his efforts to sooth him are rendered useless, and it's with a startle that he recalls something else Reiju told them.

It was possible the drug Sora took to protect all of them had indeed worked, except, instead of taking effect straight away, like it did on Sanji, it might've been delayed and needed a trigger to activate it. Ichiji looks at Sanji panting on the bed and wonders if that might the trigger; seeing their brother having so many emotions inside of him, and a good part of those directed at them, that he's dying because of them.

"So does that mean we'll eventually love Sanji as much as he loves us?" Ichiji doesn't realize he's said all of that out loud until the sound of his own voice finally registers in his brain and he's taken aback by the blinding smile spreading over Yonji's features as the question is unintentionally uttered by him.

Yonji's expression is mirrored by Niji and even Ichiji is unable to stop a small grin from forming on his lips. Sanji's breath hitches in response, the scene so utterly unusual and completely unimaginable to him up until a few minutes ago. Maybe it's all the pollen of the flowers surrounding him making him hallucinate, or maybe he's going a little bit more insane, but he can swear he's never seen anything so beautiful. His brothers have never looked so human.

Sanji doesn't know for how long he simply sits there admiring the three while they stare at each other, still grinning from ear to ear and looking like fools falling in love for the first time—which honestly, is a fairly accurate assessment of the situation—, but soon his body starts convulsing again.

More stems come out of his mouth, longer and thicker than before, and he can feel himself choking on them. He uses a hand to help pull them out, while the other grips at the bedsheets for purchase, trying to keep himself grounded so he doesn't get completely overwhelmed by the desperate heaving motions his body's going through.

Ichiji, Niji and Yonji turn to him in horror, outright lost and powerless in finding a way to help him, and Sanji barely registers them taking careful steps closer, only catching a glimpse of their colorful outfits from the corners of his watery eyes. His hand trembles as it continues to pull stem after stem, and flower after flower from inside of him. At last, roots come flying out of his mouth, all torn up, as if they'd been ripped from their foundation, and covered in spit and blood.

The sound of footsteps rushing towards the room fills Sanji's buzzing ears and he blearily realizes the sounds of his retching might've been loud enough to alert everyone in the ship, evidenced by Chopper rushing through the door with the others in tow.

"Give him room to breathe! Stay outside!" Chopper yells as soon as he approaches the bed and carefully climbs on it, starting to examine Sanji with expertise. Ichiji, Niji and Yonji are quick to close the door and block the entrance with their big frames and, although they're not fully following the orders given by the doctor, as they're overtaken by feelings akin to worry and protectiveness, relief still washes over them for finally being able to do something, even if small, to help.

Chopper checks Sanji's breathing, asking him to take deep breaths in regular intervals, and takes his blood pressure, followed by a request for him to open his mouth so he can check his throat for any signs of infection. Lastly, he takes a blood sample, mostly to make sure nothing else was wrong rather than to confirm what he can already observe.

"This is the first time I see something like this other than in books… You're cured!" Chopper exclaims in wonder, looking at Sanji with teary eyes. He takes his stethoscope off and places it back inside his suitcase along with the blood vial he took. "You need to rest for a couple of days considering the stress your body's been through. There's bound to be internal bruising to some of your organs and your throat is obviously irritated, so please don't do anything too strenuous and smoking is still out of question!" He scolds, pointing a finger at Sanji's chest. "I'll run a blood test and a few more exams later to ensure all the roots have been expelled, but as it stands, I can assure you they're completely detached for your lungs and there shouldn't be any lasting effects."

"Thank you, Chopper. For everything." Sanji's throat feels raw and his voice is hoarse as it comes out of his mouth, but he still smiles warmly at the reindeer.

"It's nothing, you bastard! I'm just doing my job, you don't need to thank me!" Although sounding angry, the dopey smile Chopper's sporting, along with his closed eyes and wiggly movements of his body, are more than enough indication of how pleased he actually is for the recognition. While his behavior isn't unfamiliar to Sanji, Yonji audibly snorts at the scene and the sound takes the doctor out of his trance. Chopper clears his throat and tries not to look too sheepish, "I'd also like to take some plant samples to study the disease further, if you don't mind."

"Be my guest." Sanji shrugs and that's all it takes for Chopper to get to work, fetching some more glass vials and tweezers out of his suitcase and collecting parts of stem, roots and flower buds that are scattered all over the bed.

"Thank you, Sanji! I should let you rest for now." Chopper says when he's finished, already making his way out of the room, lest he embarrasses himself even further in front of everyone. "And you three," He doesn't forget to add, raising a hoof in Ichiji, Niji and Yonji's direction and pointedly glaring at them as they step out of his way, "Don't put too much strain on him, he's been through enough already!"

The three brothers immediately stand with their backs straight, chins held high, and do a salute, "Yes, doctor!"

"You calling me doctor and listening to me doesn't make me happy at all!" Chopper shrieks one last time before scurrying outside and closing the door with a bang.

Sanji chuckles airily and his brothers turn to him expectantly, wearing smiles in different levels of enthusiasm that range from subtle to eagerly waiting to pounce, but that still send shivers down his spine all the same. None of them is doing or saying anything, as if they're waiting for his permission to finally start moving; "Following Chopper's request, I suppose…"

He might be cured of the disease, but his heart continues beating faster. His hands are sweating and the resolve to take it easy and rest is quickly wavering under his brothers' intense gazes.

"So," Sanji clears his throat at last, "I know you're just starting to get used to these new emotions of yours, in fact, I don't even think you realize they're actual, proper human emotions yet, but huh… Are you just going to stand there at the door looking like fools?"

And that seems to be the sign. Ichiji, Niji and Yonji share a quick knowing look and sprint for the bed, grinning all the while. They stop right at the edge, almost falling over, as if stricken by the reminder they're not supposed to accidentally smother Sanji by jumping on top of him and engulfing him on a tight embrace.

Instinctively, Sanji moves slightly away, scooting towards the wall and preparing himself for impact. He raises both eyebrows when nothing happens, chuckling under his breath. He takes a hold of Ichiji's sleeve first, as he seems to be the one in more control of himself, and pulls him closer.

The oldest brother stumbles, but places a hand on the mattress and catches himself before he falls on top of Sanji. He looks to the side, ready to call out Sanji on being too careless, but the sight of intense blue eyes, staring right at him, renders him speechless. They've never been this close before.

Ichiji doesn't move, almost in a trance, and Sanji has to suppress a laugh and a roll of his eyes at how dumbfounded he looks. He pulls him again by the hand he still has fisted on his shirt and this time Ichiji goes willingly, allowing their lips to meet.

Sanji moves tentatively, exploring slowly with the softest touch of his lips. He's carefuly testing the waters and a feeling of uncertainty settles in his gut when he realizes Ichiji's not following his lead. He's afraid of opening his eyes, of catching Ichiji pulling away, but is pleasantly surprised when, instead, he finally feels Ichiji's tongue licking against his mouth and demanding entrance.

His lips part easily, letting Ichiji take control of the kiss and explore every inch of him. Ichiji's hands find the back of his neck and his waist, holding him firmly and lifting him of the bed slightly, bringing their bodies together.

Sanji revels in being at his mercy, in feeling weightless in his hold. He moans softly when Ichiji's tongue brushes against his and Ichiji groans in response, fingers digging into Sanji's hips.

Sanji's breathless after they part, his cheeks a light shade of pink that grows darker when Ichiji licks his own lips as if chasing the remnants of Sanji's taste.

A shiver runs down Sanji's spine at the sight, a stark contrast to the warmth on his face, and in his moment of distraction he doesn't notice Niji approaching.

Niji's eyes are hidden behind his goggles, obscuring the predatory glint in them, yet, his intentions are made clear by how he disregards any sort of hierarchy between them and pushes Ichiji to the side. His eagerness only makes the eldest brother smirk and willingly move the rest of the way out, though he stands close enough to watch in amusement as Niji plants a knee on top of the mattress and both hands against the wall behind the bed, all but caging Sanji in between his extended arms.

At the raise of both of Sanji's eyebrows, as if daring him to continue what he started, Niji huffs and holds him by the chin, flipping the table in his favor and taking his turn to stare right into Sanji's eyes and dare him to tell him to back away. To Niji's surprise, Sanji does the exact opposite and closes the distance between them.

Not one to back down from a challenge, Niji is quick to set the pace and Sanji's more than happy to let himself be ravished by his aggressive kiss.

Niji's teeth scrape against his lips, teasing and nibbling, pulling until Sanji's forced to follow his movements. Sanji winces lightly at a particularly hard bite and Niji hums appreciatively, licking over the forming bruise to soothe it.

Not fully satisfied with his work, Niji's hold on Sanji's chin tightens and he forcefully demands entrance with his tongue, shoving it into Sanji's mouth and coaxing his tongue out, sucking on it like his life depends on it. Spit dribbles down their chins and Sanji's lips are starting to swell, but Niji is relentless, entangling his fingers in Sanji's hair so he can continue devouring him. His other hand teases the hem of Sanji's shirt, threatening to slip under, but a tap on his shoulder makes him grunt in annoyance and stop his assault to turn around and curse at whoever dared interrupt him.

The insulting words die on his tongue as Yonji stares at him from above, a huge smirk stretching his lips. The youngest brother doesn't even have to say anything for Niji to grumble instead and get up. He clicks his tongue, still annoyed, and before he's completely off the bed he goes back to give Sanji a quick peck, taking the opportunity to capture his bottom lip in between his teeth one last time and pull it lightly. He winks at Sanji teasingly, watching as the blond sits there stunned, and then he's finally out of his sight.

Yonji sits at the edge of the bed facing Sanji and his calm demeanor is a contrast to how energetic and daring he usually is. Sanji can still tell he's as eager to kiss him as the others, both by the glint in his eyes and by the way one of his hands immediately goes to the back of his head, pulling him closer with a firm hold. It has a gentleness to it that Sanji doesn't expect, almost like Yonji's afraid of being too rough and accidentally hurting him, and Sanji can't help but find it endearing.

The kiss starts slow, Yonji's mouth covering Sanji's and moving against it with a smooth slide. The hand at the back of his head massages his scalp gently and Sanji finds himself leaning into the kiss, seeking more contact.

A switch flips in Yonji at his readiness and his other hand moves to Sanji's tight, taking it in a strong hold. It inches closer to Sanji's groin as Yonji seems intent on taking all of him with just a single kiss, his tongue gliding over Sanji's lips and pressing hot and wet against them, asking for entrance. A gasp leaves Sanji when Yonji's fingers rest against the junction of his hips and the younger takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss and explore every inch of Sanji's mouth.

Sanji's whole body is tingling from the hold Yonji has on him and he finds himself scooting closer to the man and seeking more of it. Their tongues dance against each other and he's growing breathless, mind going hazy as he's overwhelmed by the tender, yet intense touches delivered to his body.

They separate with a soft brush of lips and Sanji returns the smile Yonji's giving him. It's wide, making Yonji's eyes close into crescents and crinkle at the sides. It's a good look on him and Sanji feels slightly overwhelmed, needing to look away before his heart starts doing somersaults in his chest. He catches sight of his two other brothers in the process and doesn't miss how they both have small smiles adorning their lips as well, looking happy and satisfied in a way he's never seen them before.

This time, Sanji doesn't try to stop himself from being overfilled with affection, happiness and unbridled love. He extends his arms and beckons all of them into a group hug that leaves him warm all over and finally sets the missing piece of the puzzle in his heart in its rightful place.

Extra

"So, should I tell Luffy you'll be joining our alliance?" Sanji asks his brothers amidst dinner preparations. After the developments of earlier in the day, he deemed it fitting to prepare a feast to everyone and the three didn't seem keen on leaving his side while he worked on it.

To his defense, he did try keeping Ichiji, Niji and Yonji out of the galley while he focused on his work, but it proved to be an impossible task as the three sat themselves on the long bench by the table and refused to move. Sanji sighed, aggravated at their stubbornness, but let them be as he could only assume they were awkwardly trying to make up for wasted time. And honestly, he's not really complaining now, it is kind of cute to see them behaving like this. Nevertheless, he still demanded them to behave themselves and not disrupt him.

Despite telling them to be quiet, Sanji still expects an answer to his question, but no sounds come out of the three and he has to turn around to make sure they heard him. He's met with three pairs of crossed arms, three pairs of eyes glinting and three smirks that are more than enough answer.

Sanji shakes his head, huffing in exasperation. He's pleased, though, and relieved at their positive response. He finishes the last touches of the meal with an easy grin on his lips and walks towards the galley door to call everyone in for dinner.

The crew's all in their seats and the galley is bustling; the sounds of glasses clinking against each other for multiple impromptu toasts and of boisterous laughter fill the air. Everyone's talking, sharing tales about their travels over the delicious food and rich wine being served, but Nami feels like she needs to be the voice of reason, like always, and address the elephant in the room.

She's barely touched her food when she stands up and call attention for herself. "Earlier I intended to walk in and get a glass of water, but as I came to the door I couldn't help but eavesdrop. I heard something about you joining the alliance and… Well, it's not that I don't trust you or don't want you to do it, but what about Judge?"

The silence that falls over the galley is instantaneous and the three brothers stare at her with mouths full of food. Yonji, specially, has a fork halfway through his mouth and frowns at the interruption.

Nami cowers under their intense stares instinctively, but she powers through and holds their gaze even though her legs are shaking.

The tension is broken by Luffy screaming in enthusiasm, clearly overjoyed at the prospect of having four people with super powers joining the alliance he created back in Dressrosa. The commotion he creates is enough to distract everyone, and for the brothers finish swallowing and exchange a look. They look at Reiju, indicating they deem her as the most fitting one to offer an explanation, and she sends them a slight shake of her head and low chuckle in turn, before turning to Nami.

Reiju stares at her intently, head propped up on one hand and completely ignoring the ongoing ruckus around her.

Nami swallows and finds herself entranced by Reiju's blue eyes, staring back open mouthed. No matter how many times she sees the woman, she can't get used to how mysterious, beautiful and silently deadly she looks. But she also can't let herself get distracted by her, the Vinsmokes' small exchange didn't answer her question in the slightest!

Before she can express her concern again, Ichiji's unperturbed voice fills her ears and she almost jumps on her spot.

"He won't be a problem."

Nami blinks, unsure of what he means, but Sanji's shaky exhale from the other side of the table tells her everything she needs to know; they have nothing to worry about anymore.