Chapter Text
Zoro’s attitude towards food had always been somewhat utilitarian: he never loved it, certainly never hated it, but in the end it was a source of fuel. Fresh fish has always been a particular favorite, but he never thought that he could love food. Then, being stranded on Kuraigana island for two years renewed his appreciation for the cook’s recipes. He especially missed it on his birthday.
Zoro never cared much about his birthday, but now he looks forward to being kicked violently awake, an especially large bento box and an expensive bottle of sake thrown in his face, the cook’s threats issued before Zoro can rub sleep from his eyes. “Eat it all or you’re dead.” By then, the cook is already gone, and Zoro opens the box to find his favorites. Tucked away in the shadows of the ship, he can enjoy his meal alone prepared especially for him. He always makes the alcohol Sanji buys him last longer than his usual stock, making the effort to savor the flavors.
Over the course of their time together, Sanji has figured out the exact combinations of flavors Zoro prefers, his favorite fishes, his favorite spice blends, and his favorite sake. It’s been just as much of a learning experience for Zoro.
The smell of cooking wafting across the deck wakes him up as it always does at mealtimes. Zoro eases awake, tasting the spices with a deep inhale. He lets the flavors settle in the back of his throat, imagining how much better it’s going to taste.
The rest of the crew is relaxing on deck in the sunshine. It’s a beautiful day outside: clear skies, mild weather, easy seas. Zoro can hear the splash of fishing rods and the whoops and cheers of success. He smiles to himself as Chopper screeches with equal parts delight and fear as he reels in what sounds like a massive fish. Usopp shouts something about a swordfish, and Luffy fantasizes about what he wants Sanji to cook it into.
Zoro doesn’t know how Sanji manages every day, three meals a day, plus endless snacks, without getting fed up. No meal is given less care than the others. To Zoro it would be a chore as much as washing dishes or doing his laundry. Washing dishes isn’t just about getting the plates clean, though. Those moments of quiet time alone with Sanji in the kitchen are valuable to him. And the less dishes Sanji has to deal with, the more time he can spend cooking.
“Lunch is ready, losers!” Sanji yells.
The Sunny erupts with joyous cries as fishing is abandoned. Luffy thunders up the steps first, Usopp and Chopper on his heels. Franky emerges from his workshop, and Brook waits at the bottom of the stairs to let Nami and Robin up first. Zoro stretches with a yawn and gets to his feet, walking out of the shade to follow the rest of the crew up to the kitchen.
Some food is already laid out to keep Luffy occupied so that Sanji can serve the others without getting tangled up in rubber limbs. The sea beast caught yesterday has been seared, shredded, and cooked in a sweet glaze. It smells like soy sauce, garlic, and the maple syrup Sanji found on the last island they stopped at. There is always something sweet for Chopper’s palette, no matter the meal. The second portion of meat is dotted with red chilies, cooked spicier for Robin and Usopp’s tastes but clearly distinguishable from the milder portion. Zoro will taste some of each. Sanji sprinkles green onion over the plates as he passes, laying out a bowl of shredded greens and a huge platter of rice. Zoro serves himself a bowl of steaming fresh rice, unable to fathom how Sanji manages to time his cooking so that everything is finished at the same time.
Sanji pours glasses of water over their shoulders, cracking an egg one-handed over Zoro’s rice while offering juice to Chopper.
Zoro gives the rice a quick mix and stuffs in a mouthful to stop from grinning.
No-one is ever forgotten. Sanji somehow manages to satisfy the palette of every crew member at every meal, making as many variations as necessary to make sure that everyone is served their favorite stylings of the meal. Zoro can’t imagine maintaining that pace for so long, but Sanji never looks happier than when he’s ferrying armfuls of plates at once and distributing them to the table, pouring drinks, providing refills, dodging rubbery arm, and never spilling a drop.
As far as Zoro is concerned, the crew should make sure that Sanji never has to clean the kitchen as thanks for the spoiling they get day by day. Thank-you isn’t enough. They could savor their food at least a little longer...
It’s difficult to slow down. Zoro serves himself another bowl of rice with some meat on the side. He glances away for just a moment, and another egg appears on top. Sanji is already down the other end of the table with a glass of milk for Chopper who accidentally sampled the spicier glaze. Zoro serves some vegetables on top of his rice, having learned that just because he prefers the meat doesn't mean that the vegetables have no place in the dish. The fresh vegetables elevate the strong, rich flavors of the meat, balancing them out. Their crunchy texture is also a good mix with the soft rice and melt-in-the-mouth meat.
The meal is loud from start to finish, and Sanji never seems to sit down. Zoro knows from staying after to clean dishes that Sanji often eats after the rest of them, preferring to tend to their needs until they’re finished.
Desert is an arrangement of mini squares with different toppings, arranged from sweet to bitter. Zoro knows which ones are for him by the mint leaves placed on top, resting on the bitter end of the platter. The frosted strawberry ones at the other end are for Chopper. Between there and here are lots of other types that seem to change every time, but all of them look delicious.
Not as delicious as the bitter mint-marmalade squares for Zoro. The marmalade is laced with rind and shredded lemon, giving it a strong citrus flavor. There is very little sugar, just as Zoro likes them. He thinks he can taste alcohol in the marmalade. Tequila, or rum? Anyway, the strong flavors go down well with the cup of alcohol that appears next to him, a twist of tangerine peel dropped onto the ice. Hmm, rum then.
Sanji is smiling, rolling up his sleeves and walking toward the stack of bowls in the sink. Not on my watch. The platter is almost empty, but not quite.
“Cook, more booze!” Zoro yells around a mouthful of marmalade, thrusting up his cup.
Sanji whirls around and storms over, swiping the bottle from a shelf on his way over. “Don’t talk with your mouth full in front of the ladies!” He pops out the cork with his thumb and twirls the bottle aggressively, snatching Zoro’s cup out of his hand and filling it without breaking his glare. His eye darts down to Zoro’s full mouth, then to the last remaining mouthful of the desert square. Sanji thrusts the cup back at Zoro whirls around, pounding the cork back into the bottle and storming away.
Zoro smiles and leans back in his chair to sip his drink, finishing his desert. The rest of the crew is finished now, dusting crumbs from lips and emptying glasses of drink paired meticulously with each member’s chosen desert. Zoro watches them filter out as he swirls the last mouthful of sake in his cup. They should be thanking Sanji at least twice as much, but at least Sanji looks happy.
Robin is the last to filter out, praising the pairing of espresso with the dark chocolate of her cake. Zoro downs the last of his sake and stands up as the door closes. He walks to the sinks and turns on the water as Sanji finishes fawning.
The noise migrates down the steps and back to the desk where fishing resumes. Zoro shrugs out of his yukata and ties the sleeves around his waist so he doesn’t get them wet, plunging his arms into the soapy water to scrub.
Sanji sighs as he gathers plates, but Zoro knows a happy sigh from a sad one. He smiles to himself and lets it linger until Sanji appears at his side with a stack of plates and cups from the table.
“You don’t have to do those, you know,” Sanji says.
“Don't tell me what to do,” Zoro snaps. “I’m better at washing them than you anyway.”
Sanji walks away again, shaking his head. Zoro smirks and keeps scrubbing.
The next sigh is a dismayed one. Zoro turns around as Sanji crouches down by the table and scoops a fallen desert off the floor. Despite the rowdiness of some members, it’s rare for food to land on the floor, even rarer for Luffy not to scoop it up and eat without discernment. It’s landed upside-down, the strawberry squished into the frosting gluing it to the floor. The cake is broken into two pieces. Sanji scoops it off the floor with a sad sigh.
“Gimme that,” Zoro says, opening his mouth.
“You hate sweets,” Sanji replies.
Zoro stares at him with his mouth open. The floors are kept clean, and Zoro has certainly eaten worse. He waits patiently until Sanji sighs again and walks over, carefully putting the disgraced cake square into Zoro’s mouth.
It’s very sweet, but the thin layers of cake are separated with cream. That and the fresh strawberry balance out the sweetness. Zoro wouldn't choose it over the deserts carefully engineered just for him, but it’s still good. He licks frosting from his lips.
Sanji pours him another cup of rum and puts it on the counter, walking away to clean up the floor. Zoro smiles and lets the cake spend a bit more time in his mouth before swallowing. The rum goes well with this, too. Not as well as with the marmalade, but still good.
“I’m getting more cloths,” Sanji mutters.
“Hm.” Zoro grunts in reply. The cook can go relax for all he cares. He earned it, after all. The man would benefit from learning how to take a nap. Sanji shuts the door behind him, his footfalls light on the staircase as he goes to the deck where the laundry is hanging.
It’s very strange being in the kitchen alone. Zoro puts another plate into the sink and scrubs as he looks around. There are notes and lists carefully organized on the fridge and cupboards, notebooks stashed on a shelf. Recipes? Zoro wonders what sorts of recipes might be inside, and what steps go into creating a meal like this. A calendar is hanging on the wall by the knife block. There are a few days circled, marking dates when certain foods were purchased and when the next stock check is due. A day a week from now is marked with a small ‘x’, but with no accompanying notes. Curiously, Zoro dries his hands and walks over to the calendar. He flips through the months.
Everyone’s birthdays are circled. Expectedly, Zoro finds his own penned into November. The only person missing is Sanji.
Unless that ‘x’ marks it. Come to think of it, Zoro seems to remember that Sanji’s birthday is around this time of year. He doesn't remember the crew ever celebrating it though. The ‘x’ seems to be more for documentation purposes than to mark a special day.
Sanji’s footsteps are coming back up. Zoro leaves the calendar and gets back to work washing. Zoro has never been that interested in celebrating his birthday, and Sanji seems to feel the same about his own, but it seems odd that the person who puts the most effort into celebrating everybody else’s is the one person not to receive anything. Even though it seems to be a decision, Zoro can't help but be sad about it.
One week.
If Sanji doesn’t want a fuss, then Zoro won't make one. Sanji would prefer a fuss from the girls anyway, certainly not from Zoro.
But if he did want something, what would he appreciate? Zoro looks around the kitchen as Sanji gets closer. All the necessary tools are here, and Sanji is very careful about what stock he buys so that he can plan his recipes without any ingredients spoiling. Canned ingredients that could be stored for a long time don't seem like a very nice gift. Spices? Zoro doesn’t know anything about spices. A bottle of wine? He doesn't know what sort of wine Sanji even likes.
A gift for the sake of a gift isn’t a great gift. If there is to be a gift, it should be as meticulously prepared as what Sanji prepares for them. The one thing Zoro knows for sure is that Sanji loves food. And if a meal is to be given, then it should be made especially for him.
There’s just one problem: Zoro can count the things he knows how to cook on one hand. He can’t see Sanji letting him use the kitchen to learn, either.
If anything, it’s a challenge. Zoro smirks slyly at the soapy water. He has one week to make a plan and execute it. Zoro never strays away from a challenge.