Chapter Text
Saturdays at the Baratie were always busy.
All different kinds of people came to eat at the restaurant. Singles, couples, families and friends, a constant rush of new guests flocking in. For some, a visit to the Baratie was a special occasion while for others it was a regular tradition. The jazz playing in the background at all times gave the place a pleasant atmosphere. The never ceasing sound of clacking and clinking cutlery, pleasant chatter of the guests as well as the shouting of orders between the cooks filled every room .
Usually, Sanji welcomed the bustle. The feeling of being needed, of doing something useful was one of the reasons he enjoyed his work as a sous chef of the Baratie. Most days, doing what he loved most, which was cooking, consumed all of his thoughts. Not even Carne and Patty’s constant insults could phase him on days like that.
Today wasn't one of those days, however.
“Sanji, there is someone who wants to order takeout”, one of the waiters told him while holding a phone in his hand.
“Can’t you see I'm busy? Fuck off.” Sanji barked at him and turned back to the food he was preparing without sparing the guy a look.
“Woah, who spit in your cornflakes today peabrain?” Patty asked, mock concern written all over his face.
“I don’t have the patience for your bullshit today, Patty. So you better shut up!” His movements got a little more choppy and aggressive. Sanji had thought cooking would calm him down, but he didn’t account for the fact how easily he could be riled up by his fellow cooks.
“Aww, did you have a fight with Daddy?”
"That's it!”
Sanji threw down the knife and approached the waiter who was standing in the same spot as before, with the phone still in hand. The poor guy shrunk back a little in a way that made Sanji almost take some pity on him. Almost.
“Give me that!” Said Sanji, grabbing the object and shooing the waiter away with his free hand.
Screaming at a customer over the phone might not be the best way of dealing with his anger but it was better than giving Patty the fight he so obviously wanted.
Part of what made Sanji angry was that Patty had guessed correctly. He and the old geezer had fought. In itself that wasn’t a strange occurrence, they fought all the time, no matter what it was about.
However, this time was different.
It had started like any of their usual fights. Zeff had nagged him about something irrelevant like a misplaced glass or fork, Sanji didn’t really remember and Sanji didn’t really care. He wasn’t some waiter, that meant he wouldn’t let the old man tell him to do something he wasn’t there for. Sanji had told him as much. From that point it all escalated until the topic of moving out was brought up, specifically Sanji moving out of Zeff’s apartment. It’s not like Sanji hadn’t thought about it before but he had never mentioned it to the old geezer. Ever since Sanji was taken in by Zeff as a child, he couldn’t help but fear that any day could be the day where the man decided he didn’t want Sanji around anymore and would throw him out. That, if he didn’t prove himself by repaying Zeff some symbolic debt he owed him, he would have to go back to where he was before. And Sanji wanted nothing less than that.
That’s why moving out has always been a sensitive topic in their household.
Still, something the geezer had said ended up making Sanji blow over and tell Zeff that he couldn’t live with him anymore. Because he was 21, because he wanted to start living his own life and whatever other reason he had thought of in this moment, anything to get a reaction out of the man.
Of course, the geezer didn’t say anything. That’s what made this argument different. Usually they would have a back and forth until one or both of them would storm off angrily. Then when they cooled down they would act like nothing had happened. Because nothing did. Their fights were never that serious. Never that final. But in this fight Zeff just nodded once, which really was him jerking his face up and down once, and walked away, a blank expression on his face. With that, the fight was over. However, Sanji was left feeling like something had changed or maybe that something was about to change.
Zeff’s reaction, or lack thereof, made Sanji irrationally angry. He just couldn’t let go of it.
Why hadn’t he said anything? Was he happy? Was he relieved he didn’t have to kick Sanji out himself? Or was he mad that Sanji had waited so long to do it?
The geezer probably wants me to beg at his feet for forgiveness , Sanji thought. “Please Zeff, I didn't mean it. Can you ever forgive me?” That’s what he’d like to hear .
Well, he wouldn’t get that from him because from now on, Sanji was serious about his intent on moving out. See how the geezer likes that. Right after this shift Sanji would start looking for free apartments in the area, he decided.
In the meantime he had a customer to scare off.
“What do you want?”, Sanji said without schooling his aggressive tone.
“Excuse me?”, a female voice said over the speaker. A female voice Sanji recognized very well.
Oh shit.
This woman ordered at the Baratie at least once a week. Now Sanji truly felt bad for the waiter, who had just wanted to give him the opportunity to serve this specific customer. The mystery woman. That’s what Sanji called her in his head, because he didn’t know her name. He always wondered what she looked like. If her voice could be seen as an indicator of her beauty then she would have to look absolutely mesmerizing. Sometimes he fantasized about meeting her. Stroking her hair gently, cupping her rosy cheeks and leaning down to-
Sanji awoke from his daydreams when he realized how brazenly he had just spoken to this wonderful lady. Sanji would never dare to be this disrespectful to a woman, especially not this one.
“Apologies madam, I didn’t mean to use that tone with you. Something must have come over me. I don't know how I could ever make it up to you,” He said, genuinely distressed by his own gap in judgment.
“Ah, it’s you!.”, she said with that honeyed voice of hers.
“Of course it’s me. I love to serve wonderful ladies like you.”
“Well, I know a way you could make up for not only keeping me waiting but also shouting at me.”
“Anything for you.”
“An extra discount would make me forget all of this, but only because you’re usually so good to me.” A grin spread on his face when he heard this.
“So the usual order with an extra discount?”
“You know me so well.”
Sanji had to suppress a sigh when he hung up. This little interaction had improved his mood exponentially. Sanji could be described as a lover of women. Any woman was beautiful to him and he couldn’t help fawning over every lady he saw. Despite his best efforts he still didn’t have a girlfriend though, which bothered him. The romantic in him hoped to one day meet this mystery woman and sweep her off her feet. At that thought, a sigh escaped his mouth anyways.
“Stop drooling over the female customers Sanji, you’re gonna scare ‘em off!”, a random cook called out and made everyone in the kitchen laugh.
“Shut the hell up!” Sanji shouted at no one in particular.
On his way home Sanji had to stop at a red light. Usually Zeff was the one driving him home when their shifts ended at the same time, that was the case on most days. This time Sanji had decided to finish earlier, so he was walking home instead, which sucked considering temperatures had started to fall as autumn rolled in.
Sanji had managed to avoid Zeff for his entire shift. It hadn’t been easy but luckily he pulled it off. He didn’t want to talk about the fight, but what made him truly avoid the old man was the prospect of not talking about it and acting like nothing had ever happened. It would have felt too much like one of their regular fights and Sanji wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
Sanji pulled out a cigarette and lit it carefully. He already felt much better, after the first drag
The street was empty, no cars, no witnesses and Sanji was about to jaywalk when something caught his eye.
It was a paper pasted to the post of the traffic light he was standing next to.
Some sort of flyer with small, silly, colorful illustrations and something that seemed to be a profile. The top of the paper read: “Looking for a roommate?” At the bottom someone scribbled down their number alongside the phrase “Call me”. After reading the profile Sanji deduced it was written about an apartment. It said:
- three rooms (two bigger, one small)
- living area
- built-in kitchen
- one bathroom
This was perfect! Sanji couldn’t believe his own luck. A small part of him wondered what kind of person posted this flyer and if they could be trusted. After all, there wasn’t really any information except for a phone number. Whoever this person was, an opportunity like that shouldn’t be ignored and so he ripped the flyer from the post and stuffed it into his coat pocket. That way Sanji wouldn’t have to take out his phone for a photo and anyone that walked past, who could have possibly taken interest in this offer as well, was no longer competition. With newly ignited motivation Sanji decided to call the number the moment he arrived at his soon to be ex-apartment.