Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Explosive pain blossomed along Sanji’s side, the strike effectively knocking the wind out of him and causing black to dance at the edges of his vision. He could feel his body quitting on him. Barely mustering enough strength to turn around to grasp Zoro’s shoulder and glare up at the betrayal.

The swordsman stood resolute.

Jaw held high in determination, Zoro wouldn’t meet Sanji’s gaze and instead looked beyond at the Warlord. His grip loosened, his knees buckled, then he was falling. The last image of the man alive was him staring down the Warlord with an unwavering conviction.

Sanji’s shoulder hit the ground—and he sat upright with a ragged inhale.

Body heaving around painful gasps, Sanji glanced around the dark room while trying to remember where he was. His hands trembling, his skin sweaty, and his heart pounding in his throat. The first traces of grey light from the sunrise trickled through the portholes to begin to illuminate the galley. A relief washed over him at being on Sunny, followed shortly by the crushing reality of what that meant…

That same awful disorienting sensation that had greeted him when waking on the rubble of Moriah’s castle grounds—and had looked around in horror only to realize the swordsman was gone. Fear swilling in his gut like spoiled milk – coupled with the cruel tang of hope – as Sanji stumbled through the debris only to find Zoro’s corpse in a pool of his own blood.

The blood.

There had been so much blood!

No matter how many showers Sanji had taken – rubbed his skin raw with the cloth – that scent of copper lingered. He wasn’t certain if it would ever go away. And a part of him wondered if he even wanted it to…

It was one of the only things of the swordsman’s that remained, besides his earrings; Sanji’s gaze flicked down to see the dull gold earrings dangling from a chain around his neck. The lack of light effectively cut their shimmer, but Sanji hadn’t found them to glow at all since Zoro’s death.

The heavy gold nestled against his chest as the weighted reminder of their loss.

Of his loss…

Sanji forced down a swallow that his body tried to reject. 

Hands furling even tighter in the blanket pooled in his lap while having to force himself to slowly inhale through his nose. The exhale racking out of him a painful shudder; the tang of grief halting the motion bitterly on the back of his tongue. The urge to gag caused his chest to seize. It had the gold earrings swaying, then clattering with a haunting chime.

It had been a month, but the grief still felt as raw; he remembered the shock, the numbness, and the panic as poignantly as the first time. And while the periods between these waves of grief had gotten farther and farther between, it hadn't made them any less potent.

Sanji took another few deep breaths.

As he finally finished calming himself, his breathing returned to normal, but deep in his gut he could feel that tension starting anew. And it would build, and build, and build – like the pressure from holding your breath – until he’d be forced to gasp for relief again.

The first few days it had been every few minutes, and after the first week it had been every hour, and now it was only a couple of times a day…

It was progress, but it made him bitter; every step forward felt like a step to leaving Zoro behind. He could hear the way Zoro would scoff at him. Berate him for letting it affect him so easily—and Sanji had to wonder if Zoro had let them switch places if the swordsman would be this torn up…

Probably not…

Knowing there was no point in attempting to sleep, Sanji threw off the blanket, slipped on his clothes, and headed outside. He stepped out of the galley to the early morning calm that surrounded Sunny. The waters were still, and the sun hadn’t even begun to crest the horizon yet beyond her heralding streaks of grey.

Sanji dug out his cigarettes, then lit one up.

Enjoying it languidly against the railing while watching the sun slowly start to rise, but refusing to let his mind wander. He found it always led to dark places when he did. To the what-if’s and maybe-then’s of grief's bitter bargaining—and Sanji had learned long ago that was an act of self-destruction that benefited no one…

The door to the men’s quarters creaked open, and Sanji glanced down.

Luffy stood in the doorway.

Looking much as he had the past month, the normally bubbly kid had become strangely stoic; he’d become more of a captain than Sanji could ever remember, but no doubt was carrying Zoro’s warning in Water 7.

The weight of a captain.

Sanji forced a smile, then turned back to the horizon.

Watching the sunrise again while preparing himself for the upcoming day; he would need to make breakfast, and not let his own nightmares affect the crew. All of whom were healing in their own time, but doing remarkably better than some.

They were also going to be reaching a new island today, and Sanji needed to resupply—the first island they would properly explore since Zoro…

Sanji’s eyes begin to sting.

Shutting them quickly to stave off the impending tears, Sanji hung his head while waiting for the wave of crushing emotion to pass. He listened to the soft curling of waves on the hull, and the sharp snap of the ship’s flag high on the mast, and the distinct swishing of fabric as Luffy approached. By the time Luffy stood next to him, Sanji was able to open his eyes without his sadness spilling over.

Without a word, Luffy placed his straw hat on Sanji’s head with a gentle hand, then walked away; Sanji watched their captain cross the lawn and head over to Sunny’s figurehead to watch the sunrise.

Sanji touched the brim as that familiar ache began to compound with a frightening velocity.

His hand dropped to clutch his jaw as the grief warped his face into an agonizing amalgamation of harsh, strained lines. Sanji held his breath as the wave of debilitating grief washed over him like the tide. Drowning him in sorrow before pulling back out.

A sob throbbed at his jaw, but Sanji held it back as the ache subsided—and soon he was able to let out a trembling exhale. His face relaxed—and the sting behind his eyes waned. Another few rhythmic breaths had him back in control.

Sanji took a long pull on the remnants of his smoke, then flicked it overboard and headed to the galley to start on breakfast.

~X~

Another few hours of sailing had the Thousand Sunny pulling into pretty at a small autumn island that was remarkably friendly to pirates—or at the very least ambivalent. The lack of a certain swordsman was on everyone's mind, but they all collectively – silently – agreed to ignore it. They split up for the day with everyone exploring the village at their leisure while Franky stayed behind to work on repairs.

Sanji headed for the market to stock up.

Nose all but buried in his list as he didn’t want to think about the missing swordsman any more than he had to, but even this errand was fraught with reminders. It was weird going down the supplies list without any notes for Zoro; he had the normal requests – and dietary restrictions – for everyone else jotted down, but no Zoro…

At least Sanji wouldn’t have to buy extra liquor just to keep the swordsman from drinking his cooking sherry; Sanji chuckled somberly at the thought, but it very quickly made him sad.

Damn swordsman…

Physically shaking himself to rid the somber thoughts, Sanji put his head down and focused on the list with a stern determination. He finished the rest of the shopping with relatively little problem. Stopping by the vegetable stands last so that he could properly select what he wanted to use to complement the island’s regional livestock.

After getting the necessary greens, herbs, and spices, Sanji finally stopped at a rather large stall set up in the corner of the market; it was run by a kindly old woman with a bubbly smile. She mostly sold tubers; potatoes, yams, turnips.

After some polite conversation – and some minimal flirtatious flattery – Sanji finally ordered a few crates of the golden potatoes, and three bags of the yams.

As she rummaged around her apron pocket for the appropriate change, the old woman tittered happily, “Long voyage?”

“Not nearly,” Sanji chuckled, “Hungry crew.”

“They must be monsters,” she teased, then extended her hand. Pointing out all the coins and bills to show the correct change before placing it in Sanji’s hand, “There you are, dearie.”

“Thanks,” Sanji pocketed the rest—Nami would appreciate that he kept it under budget.

“I can have that delivered to the port for you if you’d like,” she offered.

“I appreciate it,” Sanji waved the old woman off with a soft smile, “but the lunk—”

Sanji stilled with his thumb crooked over his shoulder.

Every fibre of Sanji’s body ached to turn to look – to check – but his eyes slid shut instead around the horrifying reality of what wasn’t there. He felt the swell of grief ache in his sinuses. And knew if he opened his eyes there would be nothing to stop him from crying.

“I’m—” Sanji croaked in horror. “...sorry.”

A few seconds passed as Sanji got himself together, but when he opened his eyes again he found the old woman was looking at him worriedly. Sanji’s hand fell awkwardly to his side, and he struggled for words. Sniffing childishly to pull back the snot that had been to loosen in his nose.

This was embarrassing…“Oh, dearie,” the woman hurriedly ran around the stall—and Sanji wanted to run.

Unable to refuse the fussing woman, Sanji was ushered around the stall to a chair situated nearby. He was shoved into it. Awkwardly rigid in the chair as she scooped some fresh water into a tin cup then shoved it into his hands.

Desperately trying to keep himself together through the raw ache that was currently ripping at his chest; the last thing he wanted was to bawl in the middle of a market.

“You don’t have to say a word, dearie,” the woman comforted with a soothing hum. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thanks…”

While Sanji sat sipping at his water, the old woman dealt with a few more customers; and it was evident that her kindly, motherly nature extended to everyone, not just people that broke down crying in her yams.

When there was finally a lull in customers, she returned to Sanji’s side. She sat next to him with a soft smile, “How’re you feeling, my dear?”

“Better,” Sanji forced a weak smile. “I apologize for surprising you with that—I recently lost a…”

Crewmate.

Rival.

Friend.

Partner.

Lover…

“Someone important.”

“That’s terrible,” the woman murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s a lot of people that miss him—need him,” Sanji murmured. “I know everyone says it, but I’d give anything to bring him back.”

The woman looked suddenly uncomfortable.

“Well…” Not meeting Sanji’s eyes, the woman began fixating on smoothing the folds of her apron nervously. “Now, it ain’t my place to say whether it’s right or wrong, however… there is a man on this island that’s been given a gift.”

Sanji blinked, “What?”

The woman fidgeted some more before whispering, “He grants wishes.”

“Wishes?” Sanji scoffed in disbelief, then asked shrewdly, “What’s the catch?”

The woman reared back in surprise, but eventually caved with guilty moue, “I’m not certain; a lot of people go to see him, but don’t get their wishes granted. I’ve never had the need to go myself, but I reckon it’s costly. We don’t tell many people since we like our peace here.”

Sanji couldn’t tell if she meant money… or something more.

“Doesn’t hurt to ask, I suppose,” Sanji rationalized.

“Doesn’t hurt,” she echoed with a gentle shrug, then pointed across the market to the tall forest bordering the town to the east, “He lives in a cottage on the outskirts; near the old mill.”

Staring at the forest for a while – the tall, gangly poplar with their fiery leaves twisting in the wind – Sanji sat indecisively for a few minutes before pushing to his feet. He glanced at the old woman with a smile, “Would you mind watching my things?”

She blinked in surprise, but nodded quickly, “Of course.”

~X~

Walking along the narrow dirt road – winding its way through the dense forest of stark white poplars – Sanji couldn’t quite believe he was seriously considering this. He was also still skeptical that it was real. While the shopkeeper was kind, Sanji idly wondered if it was all a ruse—though for what purpose remained to be seen.

As he rounded a bend in the road, the forest tapered to reveal a modest valley with a mellow river winding its way in a serpentine path through the fields of wheat. And true to the old woman’s word, there was an old mill by the river. Its wheel turned slowly to the cadence of the river’s heartbeat.

And beyond that – on a tiny hill that marked the edge of the massive evergreen forest – stood a tiny cabin. A delicate trail of woodsmoke trickling from its chimney.

Sanji steeled himself, then pressed on.

Trekking across the field took some time – the rolling field of wheat deceptively far – but Sanji eventually reached the house as the sun began cresting behind him. The golden afternoon glow illuminated the cabin in an almost ethereal light. And when Sanji reached up, it felt like he was about to knock on the doors to some kind of salvation.

He paused, then gave a sharp rap.

A soft, “Come in.” was his reply…

Pushing open the door and stepping inside, Sanji was greeted to a one room cabin that was well-lived and well-loved; the furniture all arranged for the use of a single occupant. The table by the window with a single chair, the clothes-horse with only a few garments, and the tiny bed in the corner was piled with several quilts in homely disarray. After a cursory look, Sanji’s gaze finally landed on the owner of the place.

An old man sat cross legged on the floor near the fireplace; he was draped in heavy red linens that made him seem far larger than he was, but for his hands that were remarkably frail. His face was sunken as time slowly attempted to drag him off his bones. Thin, silver hair poured over his shoulders.

Even through the heavy wrinkles, Sanji could tell the man was arching a curious brow—and Sanji realized he hadn’t said anything yet. Sanji swept his hand to his stomach, then gave a quick bow, “My name is Sanji.”

“Polite one, eh?”

Sanji barked a laugh in surprise, “I've been called many things, but not that.”

“You’re here for a wish?”

“Possibly,” Sanji replied.

The man gestured to a spot across from him.

Despite his age, the man was alert—and quick with his words. Sanji dropped down to sit across from the old man. The warmth of the fire washed over one side of his body. And cast both of their faces into a flickering array of shadows.

“You’re a Devil Fruit user,” Sanji noted. “Aren’t you?”

That managed to bring the man to pause—and he turned his full attention onto Sanji, “Not many people figure it out,” the old man noted. “You have experience with them?”

A wry smile tugged at Sanji’s lips, “A little.”

The old man nodded slowly in contemplation.

“What fruit did you get?”

“I’m not certain…” the old man murmured. “It grew on this island when I was a child, and I ate it without understanding what it was. Through bitter experience I learned its rules.”

“Rules?” 

“Everything for a price,” the man’s mouth twitched, but the humor was hollow.

Sanji nodded slowly; he’d assumed as much.

Judging from how the old woman had reacted to Sanji’s questions – and the lack of people lining up to see the man – Sanji figured there would be something to this whole thing that made most people shy away. And he was beginning to suspect it didn’t have to do with money. After all, a man living this modestly didn’t exactly look like wealth was particularly important to him.

“I don’t have much to offer,” Sanji spoke frankly.

“Everyone has something they value more than themselves,” the man muttered. “Otherwise I doubt you’d be here.”

It still wasn’t quite clear what the man was implying, but Sanji had an inkling that this exchange might take something sinister—like his life. And while that felt steep, it also only felt fair since Zoro had traded his life for them; Sanji could justify trading something else to get him back…

However…

“If you were to fall in the ocean,” Sanji broached, as politely as he could, “would your wishes come undone?”

Again, the man looked impressed by Sanji’s astute observation, but instead responded with a question of his own, “Do all those that die by the hands of Devil Fruit users come back to life when they do?”

“I suppose not.”

“My power is based on the person that invokes it—not myself,” the man clarified. “You’re safe.”

Sanji nodded in muted relief.

“What is it that you want?”

The man let Sanji sit quietly for a long time.

Mulling over the weight of this request – and the potential ramifications – Sanji eventually alluded with careful tact, “A crewmember of mine died.”

“And you want them to come back?”

“I think so,” Sanji whispered.

The man’s eyes flicked over Sanji, “They were important to you.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t tell you for certain what will happen,” the man broached with a pitying look, “but I can say that for others that brought back a loved one… they all lost something far worse.”

“Another person?”

“No, my power doesn’t punish other people. Only the person that makes the contract. If I had to guess,” the man touch finger to his own chest, “you’ll lose something in here.”

Sanji felt an icy chill crawl over his skin, despite the warmth of the fire currently causing him to sweat.

“If you want money, then it shall never bring you happiness. If you want love, then it’ll be with the wrong person. And if you want someone back, you’ll forget why you ever missed them in the first place.”

Sanji felt his heart stop, then whispered, “Who would want that?”

The man looked at Sanji pointedly.

And Sanji looked down at his hands.

Clasped tensely in his lap, they fidgeted nervously as Sanji thought of Zoro—and how cruel it would be to the both of them. Sanji could already taste the bitter guilt at the thought of bringing Zoro back only to break his heart. As strong as the swordsman was, Sanji couldn’t help hating the notion and fully reckoned with why so many people refused to trade with the old man…

But then he thought of the crew—and Luffy; the tears, and pain, and grief he’d been forced to witness the past few weeks had been more than he could bear. They wanted Zoro back as badly as Sanji did—and more than the crew – more than himself – Sanji wanted Zoro back because it was what was right.

Sanji’s hands flexed.

It was for Zoro. 

It was for the swordsman who gave up his dream – and his life – for Luffy, something he had claimed would never be put before anything – or anyone – else. He had given up everything for all of them. And Sanji could give up a fraction of himself to get it all back…

Sanji steeled himself, “I want it.”

The man didn’t appear surprised, but his brows lifted nonetheless.

A calm curiosity gracing his features as he murmured, “Alright.”

Blinking back his tears, Sanji huffed out a hard, nervous breath, then shook himself for good measure; he inclined his head to the old man, “I’m ready.”

“You want your crewmember brought back to life?”

“Yes,” Sanji nodded.

The man extended his hand, “And you understand that you’ll lose something in return?"

“Yes.”

Sanji reached out to grasp the old man’s hand.

The man gave a firm shake, then everything went black.

~X~

Standing outside the old man’s cabin, Sanji watched the sun slowly inching its way towards the horizon as the sky was washed in a soft peach hue. The streaks of shadows from clouds lancing across the darkening sky. And the first stars starting to twinkle high above were far too eager to wait their turn.

Sanji had watched it do this for months while being trapped on that island.

He felt a similar feeling of… apathy.

Not defeat, nor hopelessness, but a certain calm sense of acceptance to the current situation; he hadn't expected to feel this… fine with what happened.

Fingers worming their way beneath the chain around his neck to tug it free, Sanji looped the earrings free and cradled them in his palm.

The golden light from the sunset causing them to glow.

Although, maybe they were glowing again because the swordsman was alive once more; Sanji vaguely recalled finding them dimmer without Zoro’s presence. He remembered taking them out of the swordsman’s ear before they bundled him up. He remembered the excruciating pain in his chest when he had. As a crewmember, but also as something more…

Love.

And now… nothing.

Pain existed, but not fully as it once did. He still felt that pain at losing a friend, but he’d lost many friends. And he still felt that pain of losing family, but he’d lost family before. However, that pain at losing a lover… 

It felt like a shadow.

It felt like the hollow melancholy of something he hadn’t even known to begin with, like the sombre acknowledgement of never knowing a loving father. There was an apathy of what it should have been, but an understanding that he had never – and would never – know it.

These memories of the swordsman were so vibrant – and so real – and yet the corresponding emotions were absent. He remembered loving Zoro’s smile, but no longer cared. And he remembered the way his heart would skip everytime they kissed, but now its beat was steady.

Sanji remembered loving Zoro—and now he didn’t.

All that remained now was the very real relief – and excitement – of the knowledge that Sanji would get to see his crewmate again. And see the crew happy—and whole. Out of everything, Sanji was looking forward to that the most—and in that regard the old him and the current him could agree.

That being said, Sanji had no clue how the swordsman would come back to them; the old man claimed not to know the specifics, but assured that Zoro would appear safely. In the past, loved ones returned regardless of being buried, burned, or drowned.

It was likely that the swordsman was back at Sunny right now; probably scaring the living hell out of the crew as they confirmed he wasn’t merely a figment. Sanji smiled at the thought of how happy the crew would be to see the stupid swordsman—and was relieved to feel the warmth of emotion in that regard.

The crew would be happy—and that’s all that mattered.

Tucking the earrings away so that he wouldn’t lose them, Sanji flicked the remnants of his cigarette onto the ground, then snuffed the ember with his shoe. He bid the old man and his cabin a silent farewell. And began the long trek back across the field, through the forest, and back to town.

~X~

When Sanji arrived at the harbor – shopping in hand – the commotion aboard the Sunny was loud enough that it echoed across the still evening waters. The words weren’t discernible, but the tone was evident. Ecstatic relief with just a little bit of shocked disbelief.

A good sign that they figured out it was the real Zoro; part of Sanji had been worried he’d show up to the crew trying to murder Zoro for being an imposter or something…

Sanji set the bags down with the larger crates that had been delivered earlier.

Leaving the supplies for later as he grabbed the rope ladder hanging off Sunny’s portside, then began the nerve-wracking climb to the top. He still wasn’t certain what he was going to say. More than anything he was just happy the swordsman was back—and the crew could go back to how they used to be…

Minus one small detail.

As he reached the railing, Sanji steeled himself, then hauled himself over with a seamless vault. His shoes hit the deck, and he managed a few steps atop Sunny’s soft grass before slowly faltering to a dead stop. Watching the scene, Sanji hadn’t expected it to hit him as hard as it currently was.

Apparently a lot of his fondness for Zoro as crewmate was at least still intact…

With the entire crew gathered in various states of hysteria – the tears being shed, the relieved laughter – Zoro stood at the center of it all; barefoot on Sunny’s lawn with a thick blanket thrown over his shoulders. Luffy refused to let go of Zoro as he glanced around commotion with a calm, stoic appreciation that only the swordsman could muster.

Sanji felt tears of relief sting at his eyes, but managed to wrestle them down.

Eventually, Sanji’s arrival was noticed, but it was all a haze of everyone screaming his name, pointing at Zoro, and exclaiming in various degrees of relief. Chopper and Usopp were blubbering something, but it was lost through tears. Sanji vaguely caught Nami’s panicked shouting that they’d found Zoro asleep – naked – on Sunny’s lawn just a few minutes ago; which would explain the blanket. And Franky was drowning everything else out through tearful wails while strumming on his guitar.

Whether it was through sobs, or just sincere smiles of relief, the entire crew was celebrating that Zoro was back…

Somehow…

The swordsman glanced at him—and Sanji froze.

A grateful smile twitched Zoro’s lips – like he knew – as Sanji was forced to match it with a confounding understanding of what he had given away, but the absolute lack of emotion for doing it. He could remember everything, but felt nothing. All that remained was a flicker of guilt at the knowledge that Zoro still loved him, but Sanji could not reciprocate.

Sanji’s mouth pinched at the notion.

Zoro caught it.

The swordsman’s brow twitched for just a second before turning back to the adulation from the crew.

Sanji knew this wasn’t over.

Swallowing his reservations, Sanji walked over to greet the swordsman and forced a jeer, “Well, well, well, if it isn’t my least favourite swordsman.”

Zoro gave a wry scoff.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Robin noted. “Could you perhaps have something to do with this?”

Sanji sucked on his teeth; he hadn’t considered that he was supposed to act surprised…

All eyes were suddenly on him – even Zoro’s – as a chilling silence blanketed the normally rowdy crew; Sanji floundered for a moment around the awkward situation while grimacing, “I might’ve… made a deal with a Devil Fruit user.”

A second passed before the entire crew exploded into an uproar of questions, admonishments, and disbelief; all of the screaming jumbling over top of one another so that Sanji could hardly catch a word. He leaned back – hands held aloft – while chuckling nervously. Out of everyone, the only person not engaging in any kind of hysterics was the swordsman.

Zoro was stoically silent.

“What did you do?!” Nami grabbed Sanji by the front of his sweater and started shaking him, “ARE YOU GOING TO DIE NOW TOO?!”

“No—AHGK” Sanji warbled as Nami continued to shake him, “Nami, I promise!”

Nami stopped, but continued to glare at him.

“It’s done,” Sanji gave a weak smile. “It’s too late to berate me.”

“It’s never too late,” Nami scowled.

“But a Devil Fruit?” Usopp whimpered, “Is he going to die again?!”

Chopper screamed fearfully.

Zoro’s gaze sharply followed everyone throughout the exchange, but he was carefully silent.

“No!” Sanji defended quickly, “the man’s powers don’t work like that.”

“You just believed him?!”

“Our cook is fairly sharp,” Robin interjected. “I’m sure he assessed the situation accordingly.”

Sanji sent the archeologist a dopey smile, “Thank you, my dear.”

Nami made a noise, then let go with a disgusted flick of her hands.

Landing on the lawn with a messy sprawl, Sanji braced on his hands while staring up at the entire crew, currently all looking down at him with varying levels of concern, like he was about to drop dead at any second. He could appreciate the fear. Granted, Sanji had kinda just taken the old man at his word, but he’d been distraught—and in love.

A totally lovelorn fool…

It was weird looking back on himself, even just from earlier that day – and realizing that he probably would not have made the deal as he currently was. He cared about Zoro, just like he cared about everyone in the crew, but Sanji could admit that he wouldn’t mourn Zoro’s death the same way as he was now.

“It’s…” Sanji's gaze flicked to Zoro; once again frightened to find the swordsman watching him so intently, “His powers don’t have anything to do with him. He’s just able to… trade… things…”

“Trade?”

“Yeah,” Sanji nodded nervously. “I just had to trade something of equal value.”

Nami was on Sanji again with a sharp look, “What’d you have to give up?”

“I…” Sanji glanced around the crew with his mouth hanging slack before managing with an innocent shrug, “just some memories.”

“Sanji!”

“No, no! It’s okay,” Sanji placated with a smile. “It’s okay…”

“You—”

“Nami,” Luffy’s voice cut through the common; gentle, but loud. It was the first time he’d properly spoken since Sanji returned, and he was no longer clinging to Zoro. Instead, he wore that same expression that Luffy had given him the past month.

Nami rounded on Luffy, “but—”

Luffy glanced at Sanji, “If Sanji says it’s okay, then we should trust him.”

“I—” Nami balked; she shook her head helplessly before slumping in defeat, “Okay.”

“We should just be happy to have Zoro back,” Luffy clapped a hand to Zoro’s shoulder, then smiled encouragingly, “And have a party to celebrate!”

Sanji smiled in relief, then nodded.

~X~

Avoiding Zoro initially wasn't too difficult – especially with the crew accosting him – but Sanji knew it was only a matter of time. Sanji had barely gotten started on prepping vegetables when the gallery door was pushed in—and Sanji knew it was Zoro just by the way it was thrown open.

Sanji refused to look up from the cutting board.

Zoro walked over.

Every heavy footfall had Sanji’s heart jumping into his throat; not out of any sort of residual affection, but the guilty knowledge that soon Sanji would have to tell the swordsman the truth.

As Sanji continued chopping the onions, out of the corner of his eye he watched as Zoro placed his hand atop Wado’s pommel—and for a moment Sanji wondered if they were going to fight. Then Zoro swivelled them to the side to slip easily onto one of the stools at the bar so he could sit across from Sanji.

Zoro didn’t do anything.

For an hour, Sanji prepped, seasoned, and cooked while Zoro simply watched; it appeared the swordsman wanted to be near, rather than actually talk. He knew – deep down – that this was Zoro’s weird way of ingratiating himself to Sanji. And thanking him before they eventually would have to actually hash it all out…

When there was absolutely nothing left for Sanji to do – all the dishes were either finished and in the fridge, or cooking and in the oven – Sanji finally conceded; he washed his hands, dried them, then slowly turned to look at Zoro.

The swordsman hadn’t moved.

Sanji set the hand towel down, then slowly braced his hands on the counter.

Meeting Zoro’s gaze unwaveringly while trying to decide exactly what to say to explain this complicated mess Sanji had managed to land them in. He had a lot to address, but for the moment, Sanji merely appreciated Zoro being back. Even if his feelings were gone, Sanji could admit a feeling of contentment at seeing his friend alive again. Everything from his stupid green hair and dumb face, all the way down to his smelly haramaki and stink boots.

It was nice having him back…

The lack of earrings was notable.

And Sanji was acutely aware of the heavy gold currently resting against his chest beneath his shirt. He remembered how much they had meant to him this past month, he remembered taking them out of Zoro’s ear before they had wrapped the swordsman’s body to be buried at sea, and he remembered clinging to them like a lifeline just this morning…

And yet…

He couldn’t access the grief.

It was like it was behind a glass wall; an invisible barrier to his past self that he would see with perfect clarity, but couldn’t understand. He wasn’t certain he would ever get used to this, but at least it gave him insight. Into himself—and also Zoro.

First things first…

Pushing off the counter, Sanji dug his fingers beneath his collar and pulled the chain free, then lifted it over his head; the three gold teardrops slipped from his shirt to chime gently against each other as Sanji held it out.

Zoro’s eyes watching every movement with a sharp intensity.

There was gratitude, but also confusion, as Zoro wordlessly reached out to accept the jewelry; he cradled the chain and earrings gently, but made no move to remove them to wear. He looked at Sanji instead. And Sanji wasn’t looking forward to confirming what Zoro likely already suspected…

Sanji sighed, then swallowed, “I—”

“SANJI!”

The door to the galley was thrown open with a bang.

They shared a muted smile at Luffy’s behaviour, then Zoro stood and left.

~X~

For the rest of the evening, Zoro kept a polite distance; the crew ate dinner together, drank far more than was wise, and celebrated late into the night. And Zoro – while clearly ecstatic – appeared to be making up for lost time. Drinking like he was trying to put himself back in an early grave—and never not without a crew member slung under an arm in his silently affectionate way to show he’d missed them too.

Late into the night – practically the morning – everyone made their way back to their quarters to crash while Sanji cleaned the galley. He even mopped, but found himself unable to sleep. Eventually giving up on the idea entirely and making his way to his secret spot to attempt to clear his thoughts.

In the hallway behind the aquarium, Sanji sprawled on the ground while staring up through the glass archway at the encompassing aquarium. He puffed casually on a cigarette. Watching the tendrils twist and spiral towards the glass ceiling before dispersing against it in waves that complimented the flexing water above them.

Memories of laying here with the swordsman – on cold nights he could remember the warmth of the swordsman’s shoulder against his – while watching the fish swim above them. 

Stars twinkling through the rippling water, like the fish were swimming through the stars themselves. He'd told Zoro about All Blue in this very spot. And Zoro had told him things too. A lot had happened here…

Sanji closed his eyes against the more… inappropriate memories.

They felt like a distant dream. 

A fuzzy memory that was there, but the specifics were lost; snapshots of distorted moonlight on sweaty skin, and harsh pants echoing against the acoustical glass.

It was all there, except his feelings for the swordsman…

Sanji exhaled a perplexed cloud of smoke.

Like an out of body experience, Sanji cycled through his memories and observed himself being puppeteered by a stranger. He could vividly remember himself interacting with the swordsman in such kind, loving, and intimate ways; the emotions were right there . And yet, somehow, he couldn’t feel them, couldn't understand being so in love with someone that he’d trade anything to get them back.

In a strange way, Sanji envied himself…

Heavy footfalls had Sanji’s eyes flicking open – his heart rate skyrocketing – while sitting up sharply to see the familiar shape of the swordsman walking along the tunnel. His figure distorted by the water, but the green hair unmistakable. Eventually, Zoro rounded the bend in the pathway and came into view; he came to a stop a few steps away, then stared down at Sanji with a calm expression.

Sanji blinked.

Zoro lifted a shoulder in a lazy shrug, “Don’t act surprised—I know you.”

Sanji’s lips twisted in embarrassment.

As they stared each other down – Sanji with bated breath – Zoro’s gaze deviated for a moment to glance around the area—and Sanji didn’t doubt the memories that were being recalled.

Zoro tilted his head to the ground nearby, “Mind if I sit?”

Sanji flicked his hand invitingly, but didn’t trust himself to speak.

As Zoro removed his swords, then dropped down to sit with his back against the outer wall, Sanji shuffled to brace himself opposite the swordsman against the aquarium glass.

A long silence lingered loudly between them, as Zoro said everything that needed to be without even uttering a word—and Sanji could see in gaze that Zoro knew. Perhaps not the specifics , but more than what Sanji had told the crew. All that was left was for Zoro to confirm it…

Zoro’s mouth twisted regretfully as he asked, “What exactly did you trade?”

It was pointless to equivocate…

“My feelings for you,” Sanji murmured.

Zoro started to chuckle—and Sanji stilled.

It wasn’t real laughter; it was a callous, deprecating thing that felt like something sour and black being spat onto the floor between them. Zoro’s laughter finally subsided, and he muttered, “I suppose that’s fair then.”

Sanji ached.

“You lost me,” Zoro concluded. “And now I’ve lost you.”

“I’m sor—”

“Shut up,” Zoro drawled.

There was a comfort in Zoro’s dry, confident sneer, like things hadn’t really changed at all; the swordsman was as steadfast, strong, and stalwart as ever. He appeared to be finding humor in the irony. And Sanji couldn’t help but remember that Zoro’s unflappable nature was something that had attracted the old him to the swordsman in the first place…

“Last thing I want is your pity,” Zoro scoffed with a comforting smile.

That knot of guilt tugged a little looser, but Sanji found it loosening his tongue…

“I still remember everything,” Sanji whispered, “Just not how I felt…”

Zoro’s face was carefully blank.

“I can’t—” Sanji balked; he couldn't say the cruel truth.

“I don't expect you to,” Zoro absolved Sanji softly, easily.

And Sanji wilted.

Another heavy silence encompassed them as they sat in their new reality, Sanji could only imagine what was going through Zoro’s head. The swordsman had woken up like Thriller Bark was yesterday. And now his reality had shifted entirely.

“That old man’s power is definitely a kick in the teeth,” Zoro scratched his cheek idly. “You don’t even get to appreciate it…”

Offering a weak smile in response to Zoro’s jeering, Sanji took a lazy drag off his cigarette while mulling it over. He understood what Zoro was implying, but even his old self hadn’t been quite that motivated. And in that regard the old man had gotten his predication a little wrong.

Sanji hadn’t brought Zoro back for himself…

“I didn’t…” Sanji chewed on his words for a bit before finally meeting Zoro’s stare, “entirely do it for myself.”

Zoro arched a brow.

“You didn’t see the crew—how broken they were,” Sanji murmured the horrible truth against the tips of his fingers; his cigarette bobbing with every word. “I was suffering, but… I think it was worse seeing how destroyed they were. And…”

Sanji took a drag on the sobering thought.

Lingering on the inhale as Sanji reckoned with the knowledge that his convictions on Thriller Bark hadn’t been motivated by his feelings for Zoro. He’d genuinely believed to his core that Zoro’s dream was important. That Zoro deserved to live more than himself…

That wasn’t something he was ever going to divulge, but the sentiment remained true…

“You deserve a proper chance at your dream again…”

The swordsman listened – patient and quiet – then met Sanji’s gaze resolutely, “Thank you.”

Sanji jumped a little at the strange politeness.

A determined moue tightened Zoro’s face, then the swordsman was pushing back to his feet. He slipped his swords back into his holster, then finally looked down at Sanji.

“I know how you are, so listen to me, Cook,” Zoro spoke blunt and quick, effectively enough that Sanji couldn’t deny the uncomfortable claim. All Sanji could do was blink in surprise as Zoro’s next words were a firm order, “Don’t overthink this.”

Sanji couldn’t breathe let alone respond.

“You owe me nothing else,” Zoro promised—then walked away.

~X~

This wasn’t happening…

This wasn’t happening!

Sprinting through the mangrove forest towards Zoro, Sanji felt his vision begin to tunnel as the Warlord lumbered forward. His movements slow – lethargic – but somehow faster than Sanji could close the gap. It was like being caught in that stupid fox-faced pirate's slow-slow beam…

And that feeling…

That feeling of heart wrenching panic washed over him as the Warlord pulled back his hand while towering over the kneeling swordsman. The crew converged as fast as they could. Sanji was running so hard his joints ached. Chest heaving from the exertion, but also his anguish…

There was no way this was happening!

They’d only just gotten Zoro back.

The crew had barely returned to a sense of normalcy. 

Sanji’s foot caught—and he fell.

Skidding to a stop atop the slick, soapy grass, Sanji barely got his hands beneath himself and pushed up in time to see the Warlord take Zoro from them for a second time. His hands fisted in the wet grass. Mouth slack in horror, tears pricking at his eyes, as Sanji reckoned with what he couldn’t stop…

Sanji had given up everything .

Traded feelings that he had never had for anyone else to save the swordsman for a few days, only for it to mean nothing. He suffered, then sacrificed himself for it all to come to naught. And worst of all, Sanji had brought Zoro back to the loveless husk of himself just to kill him again.

Sanji screamed something, but couldn’t hear his voice.

This wasn’t happening…

The Warlord’s hand fell, then Zoro was gone… again .

TBC…

Chapter Text

Striding through the cherry blossom infested nightmare, Sanji held the crumpled up newspaper in hand while pointedly ignoring the trill of drag queens following after him. The words of affirmation and flirtatious catcalls falling on deaf ears as Sanji’s hadn’t stopped ringing since Iva had handed him the article—and the subsequent confirmation that the crew was all still alive.

It has been a hell of a week, starting from the moment he had woken up on the beach—a very pink beach that was thematic of this island; the ocean, the sand, and forest were all hues of pink. The birds and the animals were also pink. Even the houses, food, and people!

Everything was pink!

“Candy, darlinggggg~ ”

“Don’t be so bashful , dearie~”

“He’s just playing hard to get,” Another crooned, “He’ll come around~”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Sanji reached his temporary home, then ducked inside.

Slamming – and locking – the door before his back hit the hardwood a second later, and he stared numbly into the modest accommodations. His vision blurred while slowly sliding down the door. Settling on the floor soon after, Sanji brought the crumpled up newspaper to his forehead and pressed it there with a tense relief.

Teeth gritted – and tears threatening to well – Sanji shuddered out a relieved laugh that was more of a grating bark before pulling it away.  He slammed the wrinkled paper down on the ground, then did his best to smooth it out. Hands planted on the newspaper as he stared down at the photo of Luffy in Marineford with his Straw Hat placed over his chest.

Luffy was alive…

The crew was alive!

After arriving on this island a week ago – waking in that paw-shaped crater – Sanji had found himself reliving a hauntingly familiar moment; just like on Thriller Bark, and just like on the Sunny. The painful sensation of being thrust into reality. A place where he might’ve lost everyone this time…

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Sanji tried to stave off the memory, but it was visceral; his entire body growing clammy with the chilling spike of adrenaline. He remembered laying there – staring blearily up at the concerningly pink sky above him—and the even pinker clouds that floated lazily by – while trying to parse everything together. Everything was a lethargic blur of events on Sabaody which all culminated to those Pacifista attacking them in the mangrove forest, and—

Sanji leapt off the floor with a ragged gasp.

Scrubbing at his face while forcing down the lingering panic that had followed him for the past several days. Sanji had convinced himself that the crew had to be alive, but was unable to shake the horrible thought that this wouldn’t be the first time he had woken up to find the Warlord had killed one of their crew.

There was the very important outlier that he was alive, and if he was still alive then the crew might be too, but Sanji had no proof . Not until this very moment, and not until Iva had confirmed that the Warlord – Kuma – had purposefully been getting them off Sabaody to save them.

A sigh of relief rattled out of Sanji in a mildly hysterical laugh, his hand running through his hair to rest at his nape. He let out a harsh exhale, then pulled out his matches and lit up a cigarette. Clutching it like a lifeline while taking several heady drags to remind himself that now he knew for certain that the crew – the entire crew – was all still alive.

Sanji paced in an attempt to get the residual itchy relief out of him.

Striding back and forth across the length of the modest house while trying to think about what to do next; the crew was alive, but now they needed to find each other—and the Sunny was all the way in Sabaody. That would be the place they would all be headed fo—

Sanji stilled mid-stride.

Foot hovering over the newspaper still strewn across the floor, Sanji’s eye caught the crisp black-and-white image of Luffy, but something was off. He moved his foot to squat down. Inspecting the page as the unfamiliar tattoo on Luffy’s arm finally caught his eye—and everything became clear.

“Got it,” Sanji breathed.

~X~

Two long years brought the crew back together on the Sabaody archipelago with a bittersweet relief; the island was a nostalgic sight, but also a reminder of what they had gone through. Luckily, they had come out the other side stronger than ever.

Everyone in the crew had changed; Luffy and Usopp had grown up substantially, no longer the young boys Sanji remembered from the East Blue. And Chopper was now a proper reindeer with a full set of antlers. Nami and Robin had somehow gotten even more beautiful with time; absence truly made the heart grow fonder. Franky had definitely changed the most, and Brook the least—though Sanji didn’t know what he expected of a skeleton.

And Zoro…

Sanji made a face.

Staring up at the massive, floating remnants of the once majestic galleon, Sanji watched – with reluctant, disgusted relief – as Zoro finished sheathing his sword with a grumble, “I got on the wrong ship.”

While ignoring the indignant screaming of the crew, Zoro pushed to his feet, then hopped off the ship to land ashore with a disinterested ease. He braced his hand on his swords while using his pinky to dig some water out of his ear. And as Sanji approached, and Zoro glanced up, it became readily apparent that the swordsman was utterly indifferent.

“Oh,” Zoro grunted. “It’s you .”

Sanji was almost insulted.

No, fuck that, he was insulted…

It would be a lie to say that Sanji hadn’t missed the swordsman; he had missed everyone on the crew. He wasn’t entirely certain what he had expected from Zoro. The last conversation they had before Sabaody had left Sanji under the impression that Zoro still had feelings for him. Even if the days after had consisted mainly of the swordsman giving Sanji a wide berth, like he didn’t care anymore…

Despite the loss of his feelings for Zoro, Sanji could still remember his panic like it was yesterday; seeing that Warlord – the same Warlord – that had been responsible for Zoro’s death the first time. The same hand reeling back before hitting Zoro out of existence. And for several earth-shattering minutes Sanji had been convinced they’d lost Zoro for a second time…

“Yeah,” Sanji matched Zoro’s dry drawl, “ Me .”

It wasn’t like Sanji had relished in the idea of the swordsman’s unrequited feelings, but it was also jarring to see that their time apart had apparently healed those wounds. Zoro no longer looked at him like he still loved him. Frankly, Zoro barely looked at him at all—and when he did it was a sharp, calculated thing.

It should’ve been a relief, but…

“C’mon,” Sanji tilted his head inland, “We should start making for the Sunny.”

Zoro didn’t say anything, but gave a soft noise of confirmation.

They headed back inland with Zoro’s silence ringing loudly around Sanji; it wasn’t like he had been hoping for Zoro to still feel the same way, but Sanji also hadn’t expected Zoro to be completely over him.

A horrendous combination of elation and guilt swirled in his gut; like he wasn’t allowed to feel relief that the swordsman had moved on. He wasn’t supposed to feel happy at being let off the hook that easily. Perhaps it was Sanji’s self-destructive nature, but it felt like he was supposed to be punished.

Although, dragging a petulant Zoro through Sabaody while trying to get their resupplying done— and get them back to the Thousand Sunny without being spotted by Marines was becoming an excellent punishment…

“I wanna go fishing,” Zoro bemoaned.

“ Later ,” Sanji growled while continuing to drag the petulant swordsman through the marketplace. “There’s Marines crawling all over right now—and we need to get back to the Sunny.”

“Hmph, Number Seven,” Zoro sneered, “telling Number One what to do…”

“ Oh —ho ho ,” Sanji barked. “Your perpetually lost ass has got some fuckin’ nerve —”

“Sure, sure…” Zoro jeered proudly at getting Sanji going. “ Number Seven. ”

“That’s IT!” Sanji snarled, “I spent two years in hell training for this! I’M GONNA GUT YOU LIKE A FISH!!!”

“Bring it on!” Zoro roared, “I’LL CUT YOU IN HALF!!!”

Flames were kindled and swords were drawn, and they began duking it out right there in the market despite the wary looks and concerned murmurings of passersby—and Sanji found himself secretly enjoying it.

Perhaps they could go back to being friends…

~X~

While Sanji’s expectations of the mermaids on Fishman Island had been more than satisfactory, they probably could’ve done without the threats to the royal family and near destruction of the entire island. Luckily, the crew was there to put a stop to it, but what a dramatic interlude to the beginning of their adventure into the New World.

Although, Sanji wasn’t going to complain about the celebration the King threw in gratitude, and seeing the crew all together again – partying – was very cathartic. Sanji enjoyed the delightful variety of fishman delicacies and liquors—as well as the mermaids. And it turned out that saving a kingdom did wonders for your luck with the ladies.

As the night wore on, Sanji eventually excused himself and stepped outside to have a smoke. He found a rather secluded balcony away from the festivities; and dug out his cigarettes and matches, then lit up while glancing up at the sky. The dome of water stretching over the kingdom—and the massive whales swimming above like the fish in the aquarium.

Snuffing the match with a quick shake, Sanji pocketed it while taking a languid drag and continuing to watch the scene above; he could spend far too much time out here just watching the ocean. And fantasizing about the day he’d see All Blue.

Sanji barely had a minute before footsteps interrupted his privacy.

That annoyingly familiar cadence announced the swordsman’s approach—and Sanji idly wondered if perhaps Zoro had just gotten lost, or if they were finally about to address the elephant-tuna in the room. Sanji glanced over as casually as he could muster to find the swordsman walking over purposefully—like he hadn't wandered from the party and gotten lost.

“There’s no booze out here,” Sanji drawled in an effort to temper his fears.

“Just came to check on ya,” Zoro snorted a soft laugh—and Sanji felt completely exposed. “Had to make sure you weren’t bleeding out again.”

Sanji sneered around his smoke, then flipped Zoro off for good measure.

Zoro grinned, like that was what he’d been fishing for.

And Sanji quickly looked away.

Scowling at the realization that Zoro had succeeded at whatever his endeavour had been, and Sanji had lost the second he’d gotten riled up. The swordsman loved to piss him off. For no other reason than to see if he could—and Sanji fell for it every time like a fool…

“Oi,” Zoro grunted—and Sanji steeled himself.

After a heady drag, Sanji glanced back at the swordsman – fully prepared for whatever argument they were about to have – but froze at the sight of Zoro holding something out to him. Sanji blinked, then looked down. Staring at the tiny box that was being extended to Sanji, like it was some sort of gift or something…

Zoro gave it an imploring shove, “Made me think of you.”

A weirdly unsettled feeling twisting in his gut at the gesture, as this wasn’t the disinterested Zoro that Sanji had come to expect since their reunion. He began to wonder if maybe he’d read it all wrong. And numbly reached out to accept the gift, but couldn’t help feeling unbalanced.

The swordsman was being nice to him.

Placing his cigarette in his mouth, Sanji unwrapped the finely folded decorative paper that Zoro definitely hadn’t been the one to do. He crumpled the paper up beneath the box before cradling the gift, then lifted the lid to reveal the contents.

A lighter sat in the box – twinkling under the moonlight – nestled within a bed of rich, crimson velvet that only served to make the dazzling gold pop brighter; fine lines wove their way across the metal in a hypnotizingly intricate pattern. It looked ridiculously expensive…

Sanji glanced up, “How much did this cost?”

“That’s a fucking weird way to say thank you,” Zoro drawled.

Sanji deadpanned.

Shooting Zoro a scowl before glancing back down, Sanji plucked the lighter from the case, then turned it over in hand. The weight was satisfying. And as he flipped it over could feel the ridges ripple against his skin, before holding it up to allow the light from the palace to better illuminate it.

The gold glittered.

And Sanji could finally spot the image that was hidden within the fanciful engraving; the long flowing hair, the lines of fins, and the delicate face.

“It’s a mermaid,” Sanji noted.

“Yeah,” Zoro grumbled. “So you can always remember how badly you fumbled the ones here.”

Sanji flicked a murderous look at Zoro.

The swordsman grinned—smug and proud.

Clutching the lighter safely in hand, Sanji flung a kick at the swordsman’s head that Zoro barely dodged in time. The swordsman immediately cackled. A victorious grin lighting up his face at managing to get Sanji riled so effectively with barely a word.

Several more fiery kicks and playful punches were thrown before Zoro managed to stop Sanji’s kick with Haki coated hands. Sanji’s leg occasionally twitched just as Zoro’s arms would flex readily. A stalemate that had Sanji stilling as he could vividly remember how this used to go…

They would fight until one of them would pin the other, or until they got stuck like this—and then they’d break. Sometimes it would be Zoro, sometimes it would be himself, but every time they would collide with a heated passion.

Sanji’s face flooded with a blush.

Even without the feelings or the arousal, the memories alone were enough to make his stomach turn anxiously at the idea of the swordsman kissing him. His skin got clammy, and his mouth went dry. At the end of the day, he was a virile young man—and he couldn't exactly control the way his body reacted to the notion of intimacy.

Sanji did his best to mask his discomfort, but Zoro knew him too well.

And Sanji’s gaze cast down guiltily.

Zoro let go.

Stumbling away with several unsteady steps, Sanji caught himself on the railing, but refused to look up at Zoro. He was grateful to the swordsman for being so understanding, but Sanji couldn’t imagine how much it pained him. As well acquainted Sanji was with rejection , he’d never actually been in the position of having true, real feelings be unrequited…

Sanji bit back an apology.

Hands flexing anxiously only for the hard line of metal to force Sanji to glance down at the lighter still grasped tightly in his hand. He slowly looked back up at the swordsman, but the distraught expression he had been expecting wasn’t there. It was like none of this was actually phasing the swordsman at all…

“Thank you,” Sanji blurted.

Zoro arched a brow, but didn’t say anything.

It wasn’t just for the lighter, but there was no way for Sanji to get into it without making Zoro’s situation harder than it already was. The swordsman was already doing everything. All that Sanji needed to do was not take it for granted.

“I feel bad,” Sanji felt the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. Zoro’s silence summoning some sort of need for Sanji to fill it, “I didn’t get you anything.”

Zoro stepped forward—and Sanji stopped breathing.

Even though the swordsman didn’t touch him, Sanji could remember every time that he had—every single one. The way Zoro’s rough, callused hand would rest along his jaw. And how it would slip down to curl at the back of his neck – buried deep in his hair – to hook Sanji and reel him into a kiss…

Sanji could remember how it used to make his heart jump.

A memory that was so real Sanji could’ve been convinced his own heart jumped just at the thought, but it was just his imagination. He could only feel remorse for the part of himself that was now gone…

After a long time of simply staring at Sanji, Zoro reached out to drop his hand heavily to Sanji’s shoulder; it was warm, and solid, and… nice. Zoro gave a short squeeze, then finally murmured, “That’s not the point of a gift, Cook .”

Something far different from anything Sanji could remember happened; everything zeroed in on the weight of Zoro’s hand—and the presence of the swordsman in front of him. The harmonic ambiance of the underwater city was blanketed by a harsh buzzing. And Sanji could feel his blood pounding in his ears. It was a sensory overload as Sanji tried not to panic.

Zoro let go—and everything righted itself.

Sanji slammed back into his body painfully.

Completely unaware of what had just transpired, Zoro offered the barest of smiles, then returned to the party—and Sanji was left alone on the balcony. He was shaken and confused. Certain that it wasn’t guilt that was causing this reaction, but definitely not sure what it was exactly that had his knees threatening to buckle.

Sanji swallowed a stiff, loud thing, then pocketed the lighter.

Returning to the party while trying not to panic over this weird fluttering in his stomach at the memory of Zoro’s touch…

~X~

They left Fishman Island, and had hardly been in the New World for a few days before they had stumbled onto Punk Hazard—and everything that had entailed. An island of ice and fire with dragons, giants, and samurai(Oh my!); not to mention the mad scientist doing experiments on children. There were Marines there too—and Sanji would be remiss if he forgot to mention the fact half the crew had switched bodies due to Devil Fruit shenanigans…

It was a hell of an adventure – having gotten to spend several hours in Nami’s body had certainly made up for the more insane parts – but Sanji was happy to be back in his own body—and everything having worked out alright.

A heady steam curled off the stew while Sanji slowly dragged the ladle across the bottom of the pot to collect the heavier meats and vegetables that had settled to the bottom. He carefully scooped out a hearty portion into a bowl to hand off to a shivering Marine. It was still a bit of a shock to have pirates and Marines mingling so amicably, but Sanji wasn’t complaining—and a hungry man was a hungry man.

The next person stepped forward, and Sanji started on another bowl.

Frankly, as much as the chaos was stressful, Sanji had appreciated the reprieve from his tormenting thoughts. He’d been out of sorts ever since Fishman Island—and the balcony. The lighter Zoro had gifted him a heavy weight in his coat pocket while attempting to focus on serving up the stew to the line up of pirates, children, and Marines alike.

When they had met up in Sabaody, Sanji had assumed that any remaining feelings the swordsman might have had for him were gone; and up until Fishman Island, Sanji had felt relatively assured of that fact. The swordsman had been distant, dismissive, and dry. Everything had been fine until the palace where Zoro had given him the lighter—and it all fell to parts…

That wasn’t a typical gift—and Zoro wasn’t likely to give anyone something thoughtful like that, so there was only one logical conclusion; the swordsman still had feelings for him. He’d never forgotten at all, but had just gotten better at hiding it. Or maybe it was just a gift—and Sanji was reading too much into it.

Sanji’s head slumped forward with a frustrated sigh.

That damn swordsman…

After making sure that everyone was properly served, Sanji stepped away from the main commotion of the party and dug out his smokes. He lit up a cigarette, then glared down at the lighter. Hand tightening while trying to rationalize why the swordsman would get him this when they had agreed to move on.

If the swordsman did still harbor feelings, then Sanji knew it shouldn’t have surprised him – and it wasn’t allowed to annoy him either – but a small, selfish part of him had hoped that wasn’t the case—if only to absolve him of the guilt. He knew it was a horrible thought, but if Zoro didn’t care for him anymore, then Sanji didn’t have to hate himself for how cruel this all was. It wasn’t fair, but then again, none of this was…

Sanji exhaled a cloud of conflicted smoke.

He was overthinking this…

‘Don’t overthink this.’

Sanji scowled.

Clutching the lighter furiously in hand, Sanji stormed off to locate the vexing swordsman, only to find him a little ways from the crew. He was seated on moderately sized rock jutting out of the snow while enjoying his meal. Cradling the bottom of the bowl in one hand while picking at the stew with his spoon.

As Sanji neared, the swordsman didn’t respond to his presence beyond a glance to acknowledge him, then returned to scooping up his next bite. He was spectacularly unbothered. Which only served to piss Sanji off more as he’d spent the last several days losing his mind.

Sanji sat abruptly, then glared Zoro down.

Zoro arched a brow, but continued chewing his food.

Sanji finally gave in.

Lighter still angrily in hand, Sanji displayed it between thumb and forefinger for the swordsman. Zoro took another bite of stew. And Sanji finally snapped, “What was this?”

“A lighter?” Zoro broached dryly.

Sanji’s face twisted irritably—and he debated hucking it at Zoro’s stupid, large forehead.

Zoro smirked, then looked down at his stew.

Shuffling the food around with his spoon with a lazy ease while gathering a decent portion of meat, potato, and sauce before scooping it up into a bite. He chewed while glancing back up, but clearly had no intention to elaborate. It was infuriating the lengths to which Zoro was willing to play stupid to make Sanji spell it out.

“I meant that night,” Sanji murmured around gritted teeth, “Why?”

“Whaddya mean why?”

“Are you stupid?!” Sanji snarled. “Why means why; why are you giving me a gift? Why would you give me a gift?”

Like a fact, as simple as stating the colour of the sky, Zoro didn’t even flinch as he spoke, “because I love you.”

And Sanji felt like he was falling.

“I—” Sanji balked; he’d suspected it, but hadn’t expected Zoro to be so blunt about it. Although perhaps that was his own fault; Sanji knew Zoro better than this. Knew Zoro was the type to see something through to the very end, “I just thought…”

“That I’d stop?”

“I mean…”

That would be the easiest option, wouldn’t it?

An escape from the tragedy, the pain, and the grief; the swordsman could just let it all go and no one would get hurt, but that wasn’t who the swordsman was. Zoro didn’t do things the easy way, and certainly didn’t take the shortcut no matter the pain. It was who Zoro was and…

It was the reason Sanji had fallen in love all those years ago…

Sanji floundered, “It’s been two years?”

“That’s not how this works, Cook.”

So simple, like it was obvious, Zoro spoke exactly as Sanji expected him to; as he knew he would. He knew Zoro well, despite everything. And was almost more shocked with himself for thinking the swordsman would be anything other than effortlessly stalwart.

“I can’t get rid of it,” Zoro drawled, “any more than you can get yours back.”

“What…” Sanji felt a tight panic starting to form in his chest, “what the shit am I supposed to do with that?”

Zoro’s face scrunched, like Sanji had just said something profoundly stupid.

“I’ll rearrange your face like that permanently,” Sanji snarled.

And that caused Zoro to break.

A perfect, charming smile lit up the swordsman’s face as he began laughing – really, truly laughing – at Sanji’s threat like it was actually humourous. Sanji scowled harder. His irritation bringing Zoro that much joy always felt insulting. And all Sanji could do was sit and wait for it to be over…

Zoro eventually stopped laughing, but Sanji almost regretted it.

In the aftermath of his laughter, Zoro’s face was now tragically soft; he looked at Sanji with a fondness that was debilitating. And reassured Sanji with words that were far too easily spoken for how much they cut to his core, “You aren’t supposed to do anything , Cook. You already did everything.”

Sanji scowled, but didn’t understand.

With a fond scoff and soft shake of his head, Zoro turned back to finish his meal; carefully scraping at the last remnants of the heavy sauce before taking a bite. Sanji watched the swordsman chew while remembering their conversation two years ago.

‘You don’t owe me anything…’

Zoro stood.

And Sanji glanced up sharply.

“I already told you; you loved me enough to give that up to save me,” Zoro murmured. His words soft, and slow, and smooth like a reassuring melody, “That means more than you’ll ever know.”

And that cut deep.

Everything had spiraled out of their control so quickly after that conversation that Sanji hadn’t really had the chance to properly internalize those words, but even now, Sanji still didn’t quite feel like he understood. And in the cruelest way, Zoro was right; by giving up his emotions he wouldn’t know…

But he remembered he had.

For a single, agonizing month Sanji remembered what that had felt like, and even if it didn’t hurt now , Sanji didn’t relish the memories of how it had felt. He remembered how destroyed he was. He remembered not feeling grateful in the slightest. And above all else, he remembered being in enough pain that he’d been willing to die to reverse it.

And Sanji was expected to believe that Zoro was fine with this…

As the swordsman moved to walk past, Sanji’s hand shot out and grabbed the hem of Zoro’s coat; words hadn’t even finished forming by the time the action was done, then Zoro was turning to glance down at Sanji expectantly.

A beat passed, then Sanji whispered, “but I do know.”

Zoro arched a brow.

“You died ,” Sanji breathed the word. A hushed, horrible thing, “for us —”

Hand flexing in the thick fur of Zoro’s jacket while wrestling with the visceral reaction evoked by the memory; even without his feelings towards Zoro, the memory made him sick. Waking up to Luffy’s exuberant yelling

the stone of worry sinking in his gut, then running about the field of rubble only to find Zoro in the crater of blood.

Blood everywhere…

Even now, Sanji could still vividly remember the heavy stench of exsanguination that hung in the air and suffocated him. And Sanji – for all his stolen emotions – could remember a grief so palpable it had felt like getting his lungs ripped out through his mouth.

Agony…

Inescapable, debilitating agony…

And Zoro was fine?

Bullshit.

Sanji swallowed around the memory, “For me.”

Zoro stared—quiet and kind.

“I remember that,” Sanji glanced around nervously, but no one was looking at them. Everyone was still eating, and celebrating, and drinking. The painful lump in his throat refused to subside. Sanji glanced back at Zoro, “It nearly destroyed me—I don't understand why it's not destroying you. ”

A long moment passed where they stared at each other, then understanding eclipsed Zoro’s face; the swordsman dropped to a crouch, and Sanji hated it even more than when Zoro was towering over him. He didn’t like being eye level with the swordsman. It was suddenly far too personal—and Sanji had to fight the urge to lean away.

“It’s not the same, Cook.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re still alive ,” Zoro drawled.

Sanji’s lip curled at the tone.

“I haven’t lost you; not in any way that truly matters. Everyday I get to spend with you,” Zoro gently tilted the empty bowl, “And everyday I get to eat your cooking. That’s more than enough for me.”

Sanji blinked—stunned.

“I don’t need to have you to love you,” Zoro murmured. “And you don’t need to love me to make me happy.”

Zoro smiled, then stood.

And as the swordsman walked away, Sanji was left frozen in the snow for a long, long time staring at the spot where Zoro had been.

~X~

It had been several days since that Devil Fruit doctor – Trafalgar – had joined them on their sailing to Dressrosa to confront that creepy Warlord. The ship had been lively—and a pleasant distraction. However, Sanji was grateful to the momentary solitude he’d managed to find in the safety behind the aquarium.

Laying on his back while watching the fish swimming above him in their lazy paths, Sanji found the hypnotizing flex of the evening light trickling through the water soothing. And even though they’d only had Sunny a short while before parting, this place really had become his sanctuary, but it was hard not to think that this had also been a spot he’d shared so often with Zoro…

Zoro…

His mind had been jumbled ever since Zoro’s blunt confession.

It was difficult trying to balance the swordsman’s request to just let it all go with the overwhelming emotions of it all. For someone that he was supposed to no longer have feelings for, the swordsman certainly was doing his damndest to plague Sanji’s every waking thought. He’d assumed having all his romantic intentions taken would’ve made this easier. Although, Sanji would hazard a guess that most people that would make that deal with the old man wouldn’t also be subjected to sailing with them indefinitely.

It would be a hell of a lot easier to forget these memories if not constantly in Zoro’s presence. As a matter of fact, that was what had made the last two years relatively easy; Sanji didn’t have to constantly see Zoro—and be reminded of what he did.

Out of sight; out of mind.

Sanji took a jilted puff, only to taste acrid smoke.

Eyes flicking down to the barely visible filter that remained of his smoke, then quickly reached up to pluck it away and set it aside in the nearby ashtray. He placed another cigarette between his lips, then dug out the lighter. Flicking the cap, then striking the flint until a beautiful flame blossomed.

It truly was a gorgeous gift—and far more convenient than a box of matches…

It was a little awkward lighting it while laying down, but with a masterful tilt of his lips and the lighter Sanji managed to get just enough of the flame to kiss the tip. He took a few hearty puffs, then snapped the lid shut. As Sanji nursed the smoke, he held the lighter high above while glaring at it.

The dazzling gold framed elegantly by the deep cerulean of the aquarium above.

Damn swordsman…

Saying something so stupidly romantic…

He was the lovecook!!!

Sanji’s lips twisted in a puerile pout.

It wasn’t a competition – and if it was it would be a stupid one – but Sanji couldn’t help feeling like he had somehow lost to Zoro—like the swordsman had won their break up.

Sanji’s eyes bugged at the thought.

While technically true, Sanji had never considered that their conversation behind the aquarium had – for all intents and purposes – been a break up, especially on Zoro’s part. Sanji wheezed at the realization. It had been two years since all that had happened, and Sanji had reminisced on it as little as possible in hopes to help both of them move on from it.

The lighter slipped—and smacked him in the forehead.

Sanji clutched his brow while whining a puff of smoke, “ Shit… ”

Sitting up with a groan, Sanji rubbed at the spot while glancing around to locate the fallen lighter; he quickly snatched it up off the floor. He let it fall flat in his palm. Tilting it a little to let the dim light filtering through the aquarium illuminate the lines of the mesmerizing mermaid.

This too…

A constant testament to Zoro’s feelings for him—Zoro’s love…

It was impossible for Sanji to not obsess over his erased feelings when a constant reminder of them was in his pocket at all times—and it was only going to remain complicated as long as he did…

Sanji pushed to his feet.

Storming down the hallway to the door nearby, Sanji shouldered out onto the narrow balcony that hung out over the ocean. The evening sky was clear—and the weather was balmy as they neared the summer island of Dressrosa. Even so, the wind wiped up to tug at his clothes and card through his hair in harsh, cloying gusts.

Sanji clutched the lighter, then reared back…

Frozen like that while goading himself to follow through, to throw the lighter into the ocean and rid himself of the constant reminder. His body tight like an engaged trigger; on the cusp of snapping, but he couldn’t let go. Just like Zoro couldn’t let go, even after all this time, and just like Sanji couldn’t forgive himself from moving on from what he had done.

Selfishly, Sanji didn’t want to forget; even without the capacity to love, it felt good to be loved…

Sanji felt the barest ache in his sinuses, then blinked away the beginnings of tears.

A startled laugh bubbled out of him as he collapsed forward  – lighter still clutched tightly in hand – to lean heavily on the railing. His chest ached. That weird twisting feeling that had been growing ever since they’d been reunited, but Sanji was starting to understand it.

The swordsman was still in love with him…

And Sanji could never forget that.

~X~

Another few days landed the crew on Dressrosa—the island of passion . And oh, what a place it was; the music, the food, the women! Just like Fishman Island, Sanji could see himself building a life here, but now was not the time for flighty fantasies. They had a warlord to deal with…

The crew split up three ways.

Part of the crew stayed back to guard the Thousand Sunny, the second were headed up the coast to Green Bit to deliver Caesar while the rest of them headed into the heart of the island—and the darling town of Acacia. A bubbling port that was almost too cheerful with a strange amount of animated toys running around, but then again they had seen stranger things.

They slowed upon entering the shopping district as Luffy demanded they get something to eat before continuing on, but even with the toys they were still drawing attention. Sanji could see the locals' gazes lingering a second too long. Whether it was because they were recognized, or because they had a cyborg and an almost ten foot tall samurai in tow, Sanji couldn’t be certain.

“We should probably get something less conspicuous,” Sanji muttered, then glanced at Luffy, “We’re not exactly unknown anymore—and that Warlord might be expecting him.”

“Hmm,” Kin’emon rubbed at his chin thoughtfully, “That’s an excellent point, but I can’t exactly use my powers out in the open like this.”

“Keep an eye out for an alley or something,” Sanji ordered—adding as Luffy whined, “The sooner we get disguises, the sooner we can eat.”

Luffy’s head lolled back with a groan, “I’m hungry~”

“IN A MINUTE!”

It wasn’t long before they found a bustling marketplace with many alleyways and side streets between the towering buildings that provided more than enough cover. The crew loitered casually while pretending to take in the sights while Kin’emon ducked down the alley to set up the archway.

Sanji took in the nearby market stalls while making notes of what he might like to stock up on, but the others were not nearly as convincing. Franky and Luffy were gushing too performatively. And Zoro’s hand over his brow looked more like a bad salute than him actually blocking the sun from his face to look around.

“Now you guys definitely look like you’re up to something!!!” Sanji growled.

Zoro dropped his hand to flip Sanji off while his other shot out to snag Luffy’s collar.

Kin’emon’s head popped out surreptitiously, “Okay, ready.”

Sanji flicked his hand impatiently at Franky.

As Franky wedged his ridiculous body down the narrow space, the rest of them stood watch out front; Zoro kept a hand on Luffy to stop their captain from wandering over to a nearby fruit stand. The swordsman was grumbling something—and Luffy was whacking at him petulantly in return. It was hard to fathom they were fearsome pirates when acting like this.

Sanji shook his head, then moved to inspect a nearby storefront.

After Punk Hazard they were a little low on supplies, and if all went well then this place might be worth coming back to stock up at. He bent down to inspect some of the interesting fruits that were local to the area. Already fantasizing about the innumerable desserts he could conjure up for the ladies when they all got back to the Sunny…

“Doing alright here, sweetie?”

Sanji glanced up to see the shopkeeper smiling warmly at him, “Wonderful, thank you, ma’am.”

“You holler if you need anything,” she smiled, then turned to help another customer.

As Sanji watched her bubbly conversation with the other stranger, he slowly straightened while shoving his hands in his pockets. He was reminded of an old memory; that market from two years ago—and the kind shopkeeper that had mothered him so warmly.

And he remembered how much it had ached to motion over his shoulder only to know that Zoro wouldn’t be standing behind him with a bored look and sneered insult. Sanji felt his own heart flutter at the thought. Mouth going dry and hands getting clammy – worsened by the summer island heat – as Sanji slowly turned with bated breath only to exhale in sharp relief.

The swordsman was there.

Of course , he was there—Sanji knew he was being ridiculous, but…

Sanji watched covertly through his bangs to ensure the swordsman wasn’t looking.

With Luffy gone down the alley next, the swordsman was currently being accosted by a vendor trying to push their snake oil products on him. Zoro looked perturbed. That awkward grimace that the swordsman always got when he was particularly overwhelmed.

Sanji chuckled.

It was kinda cute…

REMEMBERED!

HE REMEMBERED FINDING IT CUTE!!!

Sanji braced a stressed hand upon his chest at the close call.

What the hell was that?!

The swordsman was not cute!

It was just his memories of Zoro that had him considering the possibility—it wasn’t him . The old man had said as much; and Sanji had spent the last few years feeling the same. Those were just thoughts from a different him that no longer existed…

Right?

Sanji’s hand tightened.

Why was his heart beating like this?!

“Mister Cook, sir,” Sanji whipped around to see the rest of the crew waiting nearby.

They were now all wearing crisp black suits, and if anything, they almost drew more attention to themselves all dressed the same, but he supposed the fake facial hair was a nice touch. And none of them looked like their wanted posters anymore.

Sanji sighed, then ducked down the alley.

Decidedly ignoring these confusing thoughts, Sanji stepped through the arch and came out the other side donning a simple black suit—the quality of which Sanji was pleasantly surprised with. And a fluffy fake beard that thankfully didn’t itch.

“Thanks,” Sanji muttered, then followed Kin’emon out of the alley to join the rest of the crew. Luffy was already impatiently bouncing in place. And immediately took off towards a nearby restaurant that was clearly calling his name.

They all began following after Luffy, but Sanji caught Zoro still watching him, “What?”

Zoro snorted, “Nice beard.”

“ Nice face ,” Sanji snarled.

Zoro chuckled, then followed Luffy.

~X~

Sanji had lost track of time.

It could’ve been hours – or even days – but they hadn’t stopped working until every single poisoned and injured Mink had been tended to. Chopper and Caesar had worked endlessly on their antidotes while many Minks assisted with bandaging the wounded. It was only when the worst of it appeared to have passed that Sanji snatched a spare waterskin—and went to find somewhere to have a smoke away from the injured.

After a bit of walking, Sanji found a decent spot on an elevated walkway that hadn’t been destroyed by Jack and his men. He plopped down on the edge, and let his legs hang over the dense jungle below. He took his time enjoying the view of the forest surrounding the village. And when he finished the water, then dug out his smokes.

His Haki piqued, but he ignored it.

Pulling out a smoke and placing it between his lips, Sanji methodically tucked the pack away, then dug out his lighter before glancing over his shoulder. Nami finished her approach, then dropped down to sit next to him. She had a tired, but satisfied smile on her face. Both of them feeling equally exhausted, but happy in what their efforts had managed to accomplish on Zou.

It went unsaid that they couldn’t imagine what would have happened if they hadn’t come—or even if they had arrived a few days too late…

Sanji smiled, then flicked open the lighter.

Lighting up, then taking a gratified drag, as they both just enjoyed each other's company and the view of the jungle afforded to them. The forest was dense, but the sunset washed undergrowth with a faint orange light. Almost as though the trunks themselves were glowing with light from within…

Sanji exhaled a happy cloud of smoke.

“That’s a cute lighter,” Nami pointed.

“Ah… thanks,” A little caught off guard, Sanji glanced down at the lighter he’d been absently spinning between his thumb and forefinger; he flipped it over carefully to better illuminate the mermaid to her. “The crap swordsman got it for me…”

She was thoughtfully quiet—and Sanji wondered if maybe he’d said too much.

Eventually, she spoke, and Sanji could hear the heartbreak in her voice, “What happened with you two?”

Sanji sucked in his lips while blinking innocently, “Hm?”

“Don’t play dumb ,” Nami snapped. “You two were never subtle—and you’ve avoided each other ever since we got back.”

Sanji flushed.

It was embarrassing enough to be confronted about it by Nami, but to remember the times that Sanji knew they hadn’t been careful enough was equally terrifying. Sanji had pointedly tried to avoid those memories at all cost. He and the swordsman hadn’t been obnoxious about their arrangement in front of the crew, but they hadn’t exactly tried to hide it either. It had been complicated…

In hindsight, the tragedy was that Sanji hadn’t realized the extent to which he’d loved Zoro until he had died—and Zoro had only found the ease to admit his feelings after Sanji had stopped; the word love had felt forbidden prior to Zoro’s death, and now it plagued Sanji’s every waking thought.

“I…” Sanji floundered. His thumb worrying the lighter while remembering how angry Nami had been when Zoro had initially returned—and knew he should have expected this sooner or later, “I may have traded a little bit more than just my memories…”

Nami’s face darkened while raising a shaking fist, “I knew it…”

A loud, hard thwack echoed through the jungle—and Sanji yelped.

“ That’s for lying to me,” Nami huffed.

Rubbing at the goose egg already forming on his head, Sanji gifted the navigator a sheepish smile that was swiftly cut short as Nami hauled him into a tight hug. She wasn’t crying, but Sanji could tell she was on the cusp. Burying her face stubbornly into his shoulder as her breathing grew jilted and her arms tightened with a punishing squeeze.

And Sanji’s smile softened.

Reaching up to gently pat her shoulder to console while slowly tilting his head to rest his cheek atop her head. Her hair softly tickling his nose. And it was nice to just sit with someone that finally knew this tragic secret…

Sanji felt a tiny bit of the weight lift.

“I know it’s not fair, but…” Nami murmured against his shoulder—and Sanji could feel she had started to cry, “thank you.”

Sanji squeezed her arm gently, “Of course—anything for the crew…”

Anything for Zoro…

A memory that had been buried deep, deep down came slowly drifting to the surface, as Sanji recalled sitting in the old man’s house while making his decision. And ultimately, it hadn’t come down to himself. Or even the crew. They were factors, certainly, but the deciding one was Zoro himself…

Sanji had loved Zoro enough to know it wasn’t a choice, but a necessity, to bring him back.

Zoro deserved to live.

And Sanji knew he still believed that…

Perhaps it wasn’t love, but Sanji respected the swordsman; and if they were confronted with the Warlord again, and the same choices had to be made, Sanji knew – feelings or none – that he would step in front of Zoro again—again and again and again…

~X~

Leaning against the war-worn parapet of Germa Castle, Sanji stared down balefully at the soldiers in the courtyard below practicing their form. His cheek rested his palm, and hid the disdainful sneer that pulled at his lips. It was an unsettling reminder of his childhood…

Not just the hours – days – Judge spent having them train, but also how much of a disappointment he had been to his estranged family. He’d prepared himself for so many things when coming to the New World, but having to face them hadn’t been one of them—the only consolation was that the crew – and Zeff – were safe…

As he watched – much to his own surprise – Sanji found himself critiquing the form of the soldiers; the foot placement wasn’t quite right, the striking form was off by several degrees, and the way they held the bokkens wasn't how Zoro would…

Zoro…

The swordsman had certainly changed Sanji’s opinion on the art of swordsmanship.

Early on in their sailing journey together, Sanji remembered hating catching the swordsman training, but over time, Zoro had come to replace those tainted childhood memories. He had left his mark in a profound way. It had been a long time since swordsmanship had reminded him of his family; it now belonged to Zoro…

Sanji shut his eyes—and turned away.

Back braced against the battlement, Sanji pulled his smokes and lighter from his pocket, then lit one up with an aggressive flick of his thumb. He puffed on the cigarette while glancing down at the lighter Zoro had given him. That weird, flurry of unsettling emotions swirling in his chest ever since Dressrosa…

A concerning contradiction to his feelings – or lack thereof – since before they had been reunited—and Sanji lamented losing the chance to explore them further. He still didn’t know what they meant, but they meant something…

Sanji flicked the lighter cap open, then shut—over and over and over.

Those repetitive snaps replicating the whirring cogs in his mind while thinking about Zoro, and this weird sensation of regret at the thought of marrying Pudding—and the memories it evoked. He remembered his younger self. All the time spent imagining his marriage to the swordsman of all people…

The lighter snapped closed.

He'd never told the swordsman that…

Sanji flicked the cap open, then flicked the flint so a flame bloomed.

A delicate petal of fire that fluttered in the breeze—the destructive element so easily snuffed out in these unfamiliar conditions. Sanji watched it dance while thinking about Zoro—and marriage. It would be cruel for the swordsman to know since it was too late, but Sanji couldn’t stop thinking about it—and how he didn’t entirely hate it…

There were a lot of things about himself – when concerning Zoro – that Sanji didn’t entirely hate; like how effortless it always was with the swordsman, even when they were intentionally riling the other up. He never truly had to tell Zoro anything when it was important. The swordsman always implicitly knew; and Sanji reciprocated in kind…

And there were a lot of things about Zoro that Sanji also didn’t entirely hate; like how loyal the swordsman was—and so charmingly reckless. He was as stubborn as a cow, and vindictively blunt, but he always cleared his plate. His temper could rival Sanji’s, but his smile was disarmingly gentle. His hygiene left a lot to be desired, but his dedication to his training was frighteningly admirable.

But the most overwhelming of all; the notion that Zoro still loved him despite Sanji’s utter apathy. It was a testament to the swordsman’s unwavering dedication to whatever he deemed important…

Sanji flicked the lighter shut with a definitive snap.

Everything about them was a strange dichotomy of good and bad…

Tolerable—and insufferable …

Heaven and hell.

Bracing the cold gold against his forehead while ruminating on several slow, deep breaths, Sanji couldn’t help feeling… regret; regret that he wouldn’t be able to see where these transformative feelings were headed. And that maybe—

Sanji tapped the lighter against his forehead.

None of it mattered…

There was no point in mulling over the what-if’s and could-have-been’s anymore; his time with the Straw Hats and on the Thousand Sunny were over. All Sanji could do was make the best of the situation to come, and if Zoro could do it unflinchingly, then Sanji could do the same; he could do the right thing for this girl that was just as trapped as he was.

And maybe…

Maybe he couldn’t be happy, but at the very least he could make her happy; it seemed to be what he was best at.

A knock at the door had Sanji glancing up, “Come in.”

One of the many – freakishly similar-looking – soldiers pushed in the door, then gave a bow which made Sanji roll his eyes, “You are requested for the Tea Party, sire.”

Sanji looked down at the lighter, then pocketed with a determined sigh.

TBC…