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“I don’t need a protection detail, you little brat!” Zeff huffs, aiming a kick at Sanji’s head, “You think I’m that decrepit already?!”
Sanji barely leans out of the way in time to dodge the blow, scowling back at the chef. “From where I’m standing it looks like I’m plenty faster than you! Why don’t you just admit you’re slowing down in your old age?”
“What was that?!”
They exchange a few more kicks, and though Sanji can tell that he is, in fact, faster than Zeff, it’s also apparent that Zeff can hardly be called helpless. In all honesty he probably doesn’t actually need Sanji along to protect him. It doesn’t lessen Sanji’s desire to accompany the other on his journey though, especially since Zeff will be traveling to an island they haven’t landed on before.
Said island had exclusive produce that had yet to be seen in a professional culinary environment, and Zeff had been intrigued by the samples he’d bought off a merchant that had been sailing through the month prior. It hadn’t taken long for Zeff to begin plans to chart an expedition to said island to scope it out, though it meant he’d be leaving the Baratie for around two weeks in the meantime.
Originally Zeff hadn’t wanted any accompaniment at all aside from the crew he was commissioning to take him there, but Sanji hadn’t trusted that plan one bit. He insisted on joining Zeff, but was quickly rebuffed. Undeterred, he’d asked again the next day and then the day after that and the day after that, repeat ad infinitum.
By now it had been nearly three weeks of this ongoing debate, and Sanji was pretty sure their argument was driving the rest of the Baratie out of their minds, but he was far too stubborn to let something important like this go. It was hard to tell if he was wearing down his grizzled old mentor in the slightest, but Sanji liked to think that he was, if only to make himself feel better.
Zeff huffs. “I’m going on a supply run, not to a war, eggplant. Stay here and mind the restaurant like you’re supposed to.”
“I’m not letting you sail headlong into danger, you shitty old man,” Sanji says, nearly biting down on his cigarette, “So you might as well give up now and tell me which ship cabin I’ll be in.”
“Keep dreaming, you brat,” Zeff grunts.
“Aw, come on, chef,” Carne groans, “Just let the shrimp join you, yeah? You know he’s just gonna sulk if he sticks around. Hell, that’s if he doesn’t try and swim after your ship himself!”
Patty snickers. “The kid would do that, wouldn’t he?"
“Shut up!” Sanji barks at the two of them, who just laugh harder because they’re terrible and deserve to be kicked.
“He’d be no good as the sous chef here if he’s distracted,” Patty finally says once he gets done laughing.
Sanji narrows his eyes at him. Even if they were arguing for the same thing Sanji wanted, he wasn’t about to let them get away with questioning his competence in the kitchen. “I could cook you all under the table blindfolded and with one hand tied behind my back!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Carne says, “Why not take the kid, Zeff? If nothing else, you’ll have someone to carry your bags.”
Sanji scowls. “You shitty-!”
“Fine,” Zeff says, making Sanji freeze.
His eyes widen as he turns back to Zeff, and he watches as the older chef sighs and readjusts his chef’s hat. “Did you say…?”
“You can come with me, eggplant,” Zeff says gruffly, "But you better make useful on the trip.”
Sanji scoffs to cover up the way his heart soars. “Yeah, yeah, like I don’t regularly do all the work around here.”
“What was that?!” Patty squawks.
“You heard me!”
“And I have one other condition,” Zeff cuts their argument off before it can pick up.
Sanji blinks and then frowns at the seriousness in the other’s voice. “What is it?”
“If while we’re out there…” Zeff says slowly, “If we see anything that makes you want to take an extended trip-“
Sanji already knows where this is going. “You aren’t getting rid of me, old man. I’ve already told you a thousand times, I’m gonna stay at this restaurant until I die!”
“You stubborn brat!” Zeff scowls, aiming another kick at Sanji. This one actually catches him in the side and he cries out as the air is knocked out of him. There are a few sympathetic winces from some of the other chefs watching, but none of them dare get between the two of them. “I didn’t save your sorry behind just so you could waste away at this restaurant!”
“This restaurant is my life!” Sanji coughs.
“There’s a whole sea out there waiting for you-!” Zeff lets out a long breath, seemingly unwilling to tread another ancient argument they’d been having. “The boat’s leaving in two days. If you oversleep, I ain’t turning around for you.”
Sanji sniffs haughtily. “Are you sure I won’t be the one having to wake you up, old man? I hear senior citizens need more sleep than most.”
Zeff rolls his eyes and reaches over to cuff Sanji on the back of the head. “I oughta put you on dish duty until we cast off.”
“Like you don’t already,” Sanji mutters under his breath.
“What was that, brat?” Zeff asks.
“Nothing, chef,” Sanji salutes lazily.
Zeff shakes his head. “You’re gonna have me going gray, eggplant.”
He stomps off back to the kitchen to start washing up for the night, and all the other chefs follow suit once they realize the show’s over. Sanji stays out on the Baratie’s deck for a second to stub out his burned down cigarette and light up a new one. He takes a drag and watches the smoke spiral up toward the rapidly darkening sky.
It’s not a long trip, despite all the dramatics. They’d barely have time to do more than go there, assess the island, pick up a few supply crates, and come back. Zeff’s earlier words come back to him, and Sanji scowls again.
“There’d be no time to leave, even if I want to,” Sanji mutters. “Which I don’t.”
He glares out at the swirling waves off the deck and the distant horizon line that shines with the dying sunlight. Maybe when he was younger he had dreams about sailing out and finding a place in the sea where everything connected, but the debt he had to Zeff far outweighed any dreams that once filled his head.
“I don’t have time for that,” he says uselessly to the sun, as if the burning light a million miles away might be judging him. “I have to stay here.”
He turns and heads back into the Baratie, ignoring the ever-present pull in his chest that pulls him toward the sea.
Despite Zeff’s earlier words Sanji is up bright and early on the day of their departure, bags packed and loaded well before the scheduled cast off time. There are a few other chefs that will be accompanying them, mostly as muscle to carry the ingredients onto the ship, but Patty, Carne and the other other senior chefs are remaining behind to mind the restaurant. As much shit as Sanji gives them, he knows they care about the Baratie enough to keep it running well in their absence.
That doesn’t stop him from explaining all the duties they have to fulfill in a sarcastically condescending tone while both Patty and Carne cuss him out.
“You two do remember where the storehouse is in case we run low on ingredients, right?” Sanji asks, fluttering a stack of papers in their direction that include inventory lists, ledgers, and delivery schedules.
“We’ve been with this restaurant as long as you have,” Patty grouses, “You could stand to not be a shitty little brat to us for once.” He still takes the papers and flips through them before grimacing. “Lots of deliveries coming in next week.”
Sanji can’t help but huff sympathetically. “The storm last week delayed a few of our normal delivery ships so… everything’s coming in at once.”
“We’ll make it work,” Carne says. “You keep the old man safe, yeah?”
And though Sanji knows that most of the people he works with are crotchety old sea dogs - everything from former pirates, to mercenaries, to just people who had been down on their luck - he also knows they’d defend the restaurant, Zeff, and even Sanji with their lives. It’s enough that he feels a spark of something that might be labeled affection if he doesn’t look at it too closely warm his chest.
“Yeah, I will,” Sanji says, “Don’t worry about him.”
“And you stay out of trouble too,” Patty snorts, “The last thing we need is our sous chef making headlines because he’s causing international incidents.”
And that spark is gone.
“Fuck off,” Sanji huffs.
“You ready, eggplant?” Zeff approaches with a bulky canvas bag slung over his shoulder.
“That all you’re taking?” Sanji asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Kitchen equipment’s already aboard,” Zeff says with a half-shrug, “And some of us don’t need to pack more fancy hair products than the queen of Tajine.”
Both Patty and Carne laugh at that.
“Big words from a man I know has three different mustache waxes,” Sanji gripes, “Just get on the ship.”
“Last time I checked, I gave the orders around here, brat, not you,” Zeff says, but he does head over to the gangplank to the ship. “Well, let’s hurry. We’re burning daylight!”
“I was here before you!” Sanji complains before he stuffs his hands in his pockets and hurries up the gangplank after Zeff.
They cast off not long after, and Sanji stares over the side of the railing until the Baratie is nothing more than a speck on the horizon, and then gone entirely. Before long they’re sailing on an empty stretch of open blue water with nothing but the sun and wind to guide them. Sanji supposes it should feel more lonely or isolating being on a ship in the middle of the ocean, but instead he feels…
“Good to be sailing, isn’t it?” Zeff asks, leaning against the railing next to Sanji.
“We’re always sailing on the Baratie,” Sanji counters, but he knows what Zeff means. The horizon looks different somehow from here and, even if he won’t admit it aloud, the pull towards it lessens slightly.
“Eggplant…” Zeff says slowly.
“I’m not leaving,” Sanji says preemptively, partly to reaffirm his stance to Zeff, and partly to convince himself. “This is just a short trip.”
Zeff lets out an explosive sigh. “Right. Just… keep an open mind. Can you at least do that?”
Sanji can’t find the words to say in response, but thankfully Zeff doesn’t seem to be expecting one. He heads back below deck before long, leaving Sanji alone with his thoughts once more. He digs in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes, lighting one up just to have something to do with his hands.
‘It’s no use,’ he thinks ruefully as the cigarette does little to calm him down. He still can’t help the way sailing makes his heart soar. He needs to stop getting carried away.
Thankfully they make land after only three days of sailing, and Sanji is more than happy to get off the boat. The longer he stayed aboard the more ideas he started getting about sailing and exploring and searching for something, and he knew he needed to nip all of that in the bud before he did something he regretted.
It’s quick work to unload their supplies, and they’re met at the docks by the merchant Zeff had been in contact with. They’re quickly ushered to a nearby inn to drop off their luggage before the merchant leads them on a brief tour of the city.
The first two days are mostly acclimating them to the island, and Sanji is quick to find the inhabitants of the place live simple but seemingly fulfilling lives. There’s a lot of emphasis placed by the locals on agriculture and community with city-wide dinners happening nearly every evening.
It’s both jarring and oddly heartwarming to see their town square regularly filled at mealtimes with people bringing dishes from their homes, jobs, and farms. All of the food is shared buffet style in the large square, and Sanji has the time of his life trying an assortment of dishes while questioning each person who cooked them. The locals are more than happy to share their recipe, and before long the nearly empty journal Sanji had brought to take notes in is close to bursting with culinary ideas.
What’s also fascinating is the many different ways the islanders have managed to stretch their relatively limited supply of crops into different dishes. The produce they have on the island seems to change its flavor palette completely based on its cooking style. The same vegetable can completely transform depending on whether it’s grilled, roasted, boiled, fried, or a dozen other applied techniques.
Sanji feels like his hands are itching to get to a kitchen and start trying out new dishes, and he can tell Zeff is feeling similarly from the way the old man’s eyes light up with each meal he samples. While Sanji hadn’t doubted traveling to this island would be a worthwhile experience, he hadn’t expected it to be this interesting.
Of course, this has the negative side effect of making him wonder.
Every night as he goes to bed with a full stomach and mind racing with ideas for new recipes a small part of him wonders what else could be out there on other islands he hasn’t visited yet. Are there more vegetables like these? Had the locals in those places come up with even more combinations and dishes? How much food out there existed that he hadn’t even heard of? And every night it becomes increasingly difficult for him to stop himself from wondering any further.
Because wondering would lead to wandering and Sanji wasn’t leaving the Baratie for any reason. Even if there were plants and animals he’d never seen before, even if there were dishes he’d never tried, he knew where he stood. He knew where he’d always stand.
Even if the All Blue was out there…
Sanji huffs and rolls over in bed, trying to think about anything else but the waves crashing outside his window.
Another thing Sanji quickly realizes about this island is that they have their own religion. Such a thing wasn’t detrimental, or even unexpected. It made sense for a society that so highly valued plants and agriculture would hold the sun in such high esteem that it eventually became its own religion.
The sun god - Nika, he was told - was the most free, unrestrained deity in the world. He brought light, hope, and joy to everyone and was worshipped for his boundless enthusiasm. All the buildings that Sanji and Zeff entered - everything from homes, to places of business, to even public bathhouses had at least some sort of tribute to the sun god somewhere on the premises. Sometimes it was a full shrine, while others it was simply a hanging tapestry with spiraling sunbursts embroidered on it.
The sun motif also found its way into clothing, jewelry, dish ware, furniture, architecture, and statues. The town square had a spiraling sun worked into the painted tiles of the pavement, its rays stretching far enough to reach into the streets that branched off from it.
And truly Sanji could almost believe the place was blessed by some solar deity. Every day was warm and bright, sunshine heating the air and pleasantly and making all the farms grow large and bountiful. In many ways this place felt like paradise, and it made sense why so many people were content to call it home.
It was after dinner one evening that the merchant who had been acting as Sanji and Zeff’s guide the whole time brought up the sun shrine.
“To Nika, I presume,” Sanji says when it’s mentioned.
“Of course,” the man laughs, “There’s no other we worship on this island.”
“And it’s out in the forest?” Sanji asks, looking uncertain.
“Yes, but don’t worry. Most wildlife avoid the area, and we regularly make sure it’s well-maintained, so the path there is safe,” the man rushes to assure him.
“Might sit this one out,” Zeff grunts, tapping his fingers against his peg leg, “But don’t hold yourself back on my account.”
“I don’t see why-“ Sanji cuts himself off as he sees the guide’s expectant expression. “Uh…”
“Even if you don’t worship Nika, many visitors we’ve hosted before said they had some kind of revelation at the shrine,” the man adds, “Perhaps it could help you with your restaurant?”
“You really, I mean, do you think that actually happens?” Sanji asks, not exactly wanting to call bullshit in front of the guy who’s been nothing but helpful to them so far but disinclined to believe the claims.
“I’ve heard stranger things on the sea,” Zeff says thoughtfully, “Couldn’t hurt to at least take a look.”
“Are you just trying to get rid of me for the evening, old man?” Sanji grouses.
Zeff snorts. “If I was, I’d just point out a nice young lady so you could make a fool of yourself in front of her.”
“What are you-?!”
“Just go on, eggplant,” Zeff says, ignoring Sanji’s dramatics, “What have you got to lose? Sounds like you might even learn something at this shrine.”
“I’m certain Nika will give you guidance!” Their guide adds enthusiastically.
Sanji exhales through his nose before lowering his voice so only Zeff can hear. “You really believe this?”
“Who knows?” Zeff mutters, “Maybe you can ask this god of theirs where the All Blue is.”
Sanji’s heart does a funny jump in his chest, but he pushes it away. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll work.”
“Get outta here,” Zeff says, waving him off, “And let me get some peace for an hour or two.”
Sanji rolls his eyes but does stand from the table. He gives the town square around them one last look, seeing there are still tables laden with food, but they’ve been pushed aside in favor of a large bonfire that some of the locals seem to be dancing around as a group of musicians play a fast, playful beat.
“Alright,” Sanji says, “But I’m not expecting anything.”
“That’s usually how you stumble into things,” Zeff replies.
Sanji doesn’t bother to respond as he shoves his hands in his pockets and heads down the trail the guide indicated to that leads into the forest. He’ll need to be quick, he thinks as the sun begins to dip downward. He definitely doesn’t want to be stranded at some decrepit old shrine when the sun goes down.
The shrine is, as promised, old but clearly well cared for. It’s an open air sort of structure that consists of a large, circular platform surrounded by massive rectangular stone blocks that must be used for seating. In the center of the circular platform Sanji can see what looks like a podium or altar of some kind, though he can’t make out the details of it from where he’s standing. Everything looks very well maintained with the plant growth from the surrounding forest carefully cut back and no signs of overgrowth on any of the stones.
He walks up to the platform, glances around to see if there are any stairs up, but when he finds none he mentally shrugs and jumps the two foot height with little effort. The top of the platform is engraved with deep lines in the stone that he recognizes as yet another sun-shaped pattern with a deep ring-shaped groove around the edges.
Sanji walks over toward the podium he spotted earlier, eyeing it up and down to see if there’s anything special about it. At first it doesn’t seem like much, a raised block of stone with a few more unfamiliar symbols carved into it, but there are no depressions or hidden compartments he can find as he walks around it. He traces the grooves of one of the symbols with his finger, but nothing happens and he feels a little ridiculous for expecting anything to in the first place.
Eventually, after a few minutes of circling the area before returning to the center, Sanji realizes it does just seem to be an empty shrine he’s wandered into.
“Of course it is,” he sighs into the empty air as he drums his fingers uselessly against the podium. He wonders if lighting up a cigarette inside the shrine might be considered blasphemy on the island before mentally saying ‘fuck it’. It’s not like there was anyone around to snitch on him.
Sanji pulls out his lighter and flicks the wheel when-
FWOOSH!
The flame from his lighter jumps from the end to ignite the podium in front of him. Sanji yelps and leaps backward, nearly landing on his ass as he watches the fire trace through the symbols on the altar. There must be oil or something in the grooves that he hadn’t noticed before, he thinks nonsensically as he watches the fire trace its way down the sides of the altar and then spread out to the edge of the circle he’s standing in the middle of and-
Well, shit, now he’s trapped in a ring of fire.
“What the hell?!” Sanji mutters, running his fingers through his hair as he stares at the leaping flames around him. They don’t seem to be going down anytime soon, and he wonders what it is that’s fueling them.
Ah shit, should he try calling for help? He’s far enough from the town square that he doubts anyone will hear him, but it’s not like he can stay here. He squints at the podium nearby, wondering if there’s an off switch on it somewhere. Maybe he can try and kick hard enough to create a gust of wind to make an opening in all the fire? He thinks he might also be able to leap over it if he can just-
“Shi shi shi shi!”
Sanji pauses mid-motion as he was about to take a running leap at the flames at the sound of laughter piercing the air. He blinks and spins around, trying to pinpoint the source, but he doesn’t see anything until- there!
There’s a man with curly dark black hair sitting on one of the stone blocks on the other side of the flames, laughing and clapping his hands as he watches Sanji like he’s some kind of zoo exhibit. Sanji reflexively feels himself flush in embarrassment as the other continues to laugh. He makes no move to help Sanji, instead just leaning back on one hand and wiping tears from his eyes with the other.
“Hey!” Sanji yells indignantly, “Hey, asshole, a little help here?!”
“Hm?” The man says leaning forward to squint at Sanji. “You talking to me, weird guy?”
“Who else would I be talking to?!” Sanji says, gesturing at the empty shrine.
“Ah, right!” The man laughs again, “Looks like you got yourself stuck!”
“I didn’t know this would happen!” Sanji huffs, “Look do you know how to turn all this shitty fire off or whatever?”
“You can’t turn off fire, weird guy, even I know that,” the man says, “Then again, I think maybe my brother can turn off fire? I dunno, I’ll have to ask him the next time I see him.”
Sanji’s brow furrows at the other’s nonsensical response. “Well that does me no good, seeing as I need to turn the fire off now.”
“Hm, yeah,” the man says, still completely unbothered by Sanji’s dilemma.
“Look, are you gonna help me or what?” Sanji asks, “If you aren’t going to do shit, can you at least go into town and get someone who will? You can ask for a guy named Zeff-“
“Can’t go into town,” the man says bluntly. “I’m supposed to stay out here.”
Sanji blinks. “Out here? Like in the woods?”
“Yeah,” the guy shrugs.
“Are you… a priest or something?” Sanji asks, half-doubting it already considering the man is dressed in an open red vest, jean shorts, sandals and a straw hat. He can see a huge sunburst looking mark in the middle of his chest, but at this distance and through the fire he can’t tell if it’s a tattoo or a scar.
“Bleh, no that’s boring!” The man says, sticking out his tongue, “I just live here.”
“Oh…kay,” Sanji runs his fingers through his hair, “Whatever, I don’t care. Just get me out of here!”
“Sorry, can’t,” the man says.
Sanji can feel his eyes starting to twitch. “And why not?”
“Gotta wait for the flames to… judge you or whatever,” the man waves a hand carelessly at the ring of fire.
“Judge me?!” Sanji blurts incredulously, “What the hell are they judging me on?!”
The man’s face screws up like he’s trying to remember. “Uhhh… I think it’s like honesty or something? Yeah, that sounds right.”
“What the hell?!” Sanji just about pops a blood vessel right there. “What am I even supposed to be honest about, and how the hell are these flames going to know if I’m telling the truth or not?!”
“I dunno, that’s just what I was told when I got the place,” the man says.
“Could you be more useless?” Sanji snaps.
“Probably,” the man replies cheerfully. “But you’d still be stuck there.” Which, well yeah, he’s got a point.
Sanji counts to ten in his head and tries to calm down. “Alright,” he says through gritted teeth, “Let’s try this your way and say I do need to tell the truth about something. Where do I even start? You want to know my favorite color? What shoe I put on first? My tragic backstory-?”
He cuts himself off on the last part, blood freezing in his veins despite the fire surrounding him. God, he hopes it’s not anything to do regarding his past. He can barely stand to think about any of that much less voice it aloud. If he has to talk about… If he has to think about…
“Sanji’s a worthless failure!”
“Nahhhh,” the man says, digging a finger into his ear and then flicking whatever he finds into the grass, “I don’t care about any of that.” He squints at Sanji. “Tell me what your dream is.”
And for a second the man’s eyes burn, like molten sunlight being poured directly into Sanji’s veins, but then it’s gone as soon as it arrived. Sanji thinks he might be getting light headed from all the smoke he’s doubtlessly inhaling from the fire. Though… now that he thinks about it he can’t really feel much heat from the flames around him. Even though the fire is leaping nearly ten feet in the air, he feels barely warmer than when he was standing in the middle of town square.
What the hell is going on?
“My dream,” Sanji says, trying to refocus on what the man had been asking, “Why do you want to know that?”
The man shrugs. “I wanna hear about it.”
And strangely enough Sanji finds himself wanting to tell the other about it, some odd compulsion from deep in his gut that he can’t quite place. He gets the feeling that this guy, whoever he is, won’t make fun of him for his dream like so many other people had.
“I…” Sanji swallows, “I want to help at a restaurant called the Baratie. My… mentor runs it, and I’ve been working there since I was a kid-”
The man in front of him finally sits up straight and squints at Sanji. “No.”
Sanji blinks. “No?”
“No,” the man repeats, all traces of his earlier laughter gone, “That’s not your dream.”
Sanji freezes in shock, then burns in indignation. “Of course that’s my dream! I- what the hell do you know-!”
“What’s your dream, Sanji?” The intense looks is back, searing now. Sanji feels like an ant under glass, twitching and burning under the force of magnified sunlight.
Sanji’s eyes widen. “I- I didn’t tell you my name.” He knows he didn’t. He can’t remember saying. How the hell did this guy…? “Did Zeff put you up to this-?”
“Sanji,” the man sounds a bit frustrated now, “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me your dream!”
“It’s to work at the Baratie!” Sanji snaps.
“It’s not!” The man presses.
“You don’t know that!”
“I do!” The man scowls, “I can tell you aren’t being honest. Why aren’t you being honest?”
“Why the hell should I tell some stranger my dream?!” Sanji says, feeling oddly defensive.
“Because that’s one less person you’ll be lying to!” The man says, jumping to his feet now.
Sanji sucks in a sharp breath, throat going dry. “I-I’m not-“
“You’re lying!” The man insists, “Just be honest! What’s your dream?”
“I…” Sanji feels sweat running down his back that has nothing to do with the fire around him. “I…”
“Sanji.”
His gaze meets the mysterious man’s and all at once it feels like a wall that he’s been building ever since he got off that damn rock in the ocean, no, ever since he left that godforsaken dungeon in Germa finally comes crashing down.
“I want to find the All Blue,” Sanji admits. “It’s a place where every ocean in the world is connected, and there are supposed to be fish from every corner of the earth there. I want to see it with my own eyes.”
It’s something he hasn’t talked about since he was a kid, something he was told was just a fairy tale pipe dream or sea born legend. Anyone who he’d told about it had been quick to dismiss it and tell him he was delusional if he thought such a thing had existed. The only one who hadn’t was Zeff, but Sanji wouldn’t dream of leaving him just to chase after something that may or may not exist in the first place-
“Shi shi shi shi!”
Sanji’s snapped out of his thoughts by that strange laughter again. When he looks out at the strange man on the other side of the flames, the other has his head thrown back as he laughs.
“Ah, that’s a good dream!” The man says, “I wonder what such a place would look like!”
Sanji can only manage to stare at the other for a few seconds before he says. “You…you believe me?”
“Yeah!” The man says, stretching now. “That sounded real! I’m sure if there’s a place like that out there, you’ll find it, Sanji.”
Sanji jolts as he remembers he still doesn’t know how the other learned his name. “Who the hell are you?”
“Hmm…” the man scratches his chin, “Let’s go with… Luffy! Yeah, I like that name right now!”
“What?” Sanji asks, officially confused by this guy.
“Let’s get you out of there, Sanji!”
Then the man squats down, like he’s getting ready to jump and Sanji’s jaw drops.
‘He’s flying,’ Sanji thinks nonsensically, though it really isn’t like any flying he’s ever seen. It’s more like he squashes and stretches, like a rubber band pulled too tight and suddenly released or ball being launched into the air.
“What…?”
The man, Luffy?, lands inside the ring of fire and bounds over to the altar. It’s still ablaze with flames but Luffy rests his hand on it like it’s nothing. Immediately the flames around them die down and vanish, almost like they’re being sucked into the other’s skin, leaving them alone in the once more empty shrine.
Sanji’s pretty sure his jaw is scraping the ground at this point, but Luffy just beams at him and moves over to stand in front of Sanji. Up close now Sanji sees that the other looks younger than he expected, but still somehow feels older than he should.
“Who…what are you?” Sanji asks.
The man scratches the back of his neck. “I’m Luffy, like I said!”
“Have you eaten a Devil Fruit?” Sanji asks, trying to rationalize what he’s just witnessed.
Luffy shrugs. “I’ve eaten a lot of fruit so, sure maybe!” And that is not a fucking answer.
“I’m losing it,” Sanji mutters.
“Hope not,” Luffy says, “How are we gonna get to the All Blue otherwise?”
Sanji’s head snaps up. “We?!”
“Yeah,” Luffy beams, “You and me! And maybe some other people, but only if we like them.”
“I- there is no we!” Sanji says, arms flailing, “I did not agree to any we!”
Luffy frowns. “But how are you gonna find the All Blue otherwise?”
“I’m not going!” Sanji says, “I have to- I work at a restaurant!”
“So?” Luffy says, tilting his head like he really can’t comprehend the idea of having a job or anything that might stop him from immediately taking to sea in pursuit of a fairy tale.
“What do you mean ‘so’?!” Sanji asks, “I can’t go on some wild goose chase when I have actual things to care about! I have responsibilities and and-!”
“Boring!” Luffy says, sticking out his tongue, “You want to go to the All Blue anyway!”
“There are plenty of people out there who want to do plenty of things that they can’t,” Sanji stresses.
“You don’t have to be one of them,” Luffy says.
Sanji vaguely feels like he’s repeatedly smacking his head against a wall. “You know what, I’m not doing this.” He has no reason to entertain this guy he’s just met who clearly has a few screws loose. He stalks to the edge of the platform and jumps down. “Whatever. Thanks for getting me out and all, but this conversation is over.”
He starts power walking back to the city. He makes half a plan to go back to the inn room, take a hot shower, and forget this whole night ever happened. Yeah, that sounds good. Maybe when he gets back to the Baratie he can schedule a doctor’s appointment to look at his head too.
“Wh- but Sanji!” He can hear Luffy yelling behind him. “What about our adventure?!”
“There is no adventure!”
There’s an odd sound, like something being stretched and then-
“Oof!” Sanji is nearly knocked off his feet when something slams into his back. He staggers forward, only to yelp as something coils around his arms and legs. For a second he thinks it might actually be a goddamn octopus somehow, but then-
“Sanji!” Luffy whines right in his ears.
Sanji makes a noise of shocked disgust when he realizes the thing wrapped around him is not an octopus but is, in fact, an actual person.
“What the hell, Luffy?!” Sanji yells.
“Let’s go to sea!” Luffy insists, “We can get a boat and then, oh, you need a crew for that, right? Let’s get a boat and crew, and then we can find the All Blue!”
“I’m not going anywhere with you, you shitty rubber!” Sanji bellows, trying to extricate himself from the other’s weird limbs.
“Why not?” Luffy pouts.
“I don’t even know who you are!”
“I said, I’m Luffy-“
“Not like that!” Sanji huffs, “I mean we just met! What makes you think I want to go on a journey with you?!”
Luffy’s face screws up like he’s thinking. “What if I could find where the All Blue was?”
Sanji rolls his eyes. “And how exactly would you know where it is when no one else even thinks it’s real?”
“No one thinks I’m real,” Luffy mumbles, voice vibrating through Sanji’s body as he presses closer. Sanji shivers despite himself. “But I am, and I want to help you.”
Sanji feels his ears heating. “That- that doesn’t mean you know where it is.”
Luffy sighs, and Sanji tries not to flinch at the puff of air against the back of his throat. “I can only promise you I’ll find it, Sanji. But I keep my promises.”
And that rings inexplicably true.
Sanji finally sags in defeat in the other’s grasp. “I can’t leave the Baratie.”
“Why not?” Luffy asks.
“I owe Zeff. I can’t leave him.” Sanji ignores the thought that Zeff’s been desperate to push him out to sea for years now.
“I’ll talk to Zeff then,” Luffy says, “I want to travel with you.”
“Why me?” Sanji asks. Because really, who would want to go anywhere with him?
“I like you, Sanji,” Luffy says plainly.
Sanji’s face colors. “You- you don’t even know me.”
“But I want to,” Luffy says, and Sanji can practically feel his grin, “I want to know everything about you.”
Sanji shakes his head, but he can feels his resolve slipping away sand under the tide. “This is ridiculous. We’re gonna die in the middle of the ocean.”
Luffy laughs, bright and loud. “You said ‘we’!”
“I-“ Sanji pauses, “I guess I did.”
Luffy finally unwinds his limbs and drops down to stand next to Sanji. “Come to sea with me!”
“I…I don’t know,” Sanji says. He feels crazy for even considering it.
“I won’t give up on you,” Luffy promises.
That at least Sanji believes.
“You’ll have your work cut out for you,” Sanji says.
Luffy shrugs. “That’s fine.” He smiles again, and Sanji could swear that the air around them warms with sunlight. “I’ve waited a long time to find someone who shines like you do, and I want to see how brighter you’ll become when you reach your dream.”