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It's not usual for Sanji to stay behind and watch the Sunny when they dock on a new island, himself being a fighter, Zoro's personal tracker, and the only person he trusts enough to get their grocery shopping done right. So, as the sun is still rising in the horizon, Sanji waves goodbye to his crew and plants his hands on his hips as he looks around, wondering what to do and huffing a laugh at the echo of Luffy's excited shouting in the background.
Well, first things first. A cigarette and cleaning up the dishes after breakfast and the lunch boxes he send everyone with.
He finishes sooner than he'd like. Doing the dishes after a meal for ten is not easy but he's had practice, so he simply dries his hands with a rag of the week, hangs it on the edge of the sink and leans on the counter.
The first that bothers him is the silence and he knows the crew will only be gone a day but he can't help but miss them already. The usual ruckus of Luffy and Chopper running on the deck and Jimbe's deep laughter at the sight, the hammering and mysterious drilling he hears whenever Usopp and Franky are working nowadays, Zoro switching between training and snoring, the occasional shout from Nami as she corrects their course, Robin calmly flicking the pages of a book by the table as she keeps him company when he's preparing lunch, Brook's violin playing in the background. And now, without the clinking of the dishes in the sink, there's just... silence.
Usually, he would start on morning snacks by now and then lunch but there's no one to feed here. Yes, he will make himself lunch, but he would lie to himself if he said he'll cook up anything fancier than a sandwich. He may miss them, but he won't miss the chance of letting himself rest for one meal.
He could actually rest, perhaps even take a nap, but his heart is beating a little too fast for his liking and he knows that if he lays down, he'll only be able to stare at the roof until it's lunch time and won't sleep a wink. Reading won't do, he'd only keep getting distracted. He can't really cook. And as tempting as it may seem, chain-smoking while staring at the ocean is not an option. At least right now, he'd right spend his time doing something useful instead of brooding or sulking, thank you.
It hits like a punch to the gut the realization that he's bored. Standing still, glancing everywhere for anything to do. He can't remember the last time he got bored.
It's with another cigarette that he decides to do the only thing that he can come up with: chores. He tells himself that someone has to do them, so if not him and now, then who and when?
Laundry is first, so he just sets everything by colors and starts one, leaving the rest in an up-next pile. In the meantime, he busies himself organizing the pantry, something he's been meaning to do for a while but just hasn't had the time to actually take out everything, clean the shelves and put everything back in. He stops only when the washing machine beeps and he has to hang the clothes after putting another load in. By the time he puts every sack, jar and can back in the pantry and the third load of laundry is up, it's lunch time and he only wastes half an hour making up a simple sandwich and eating.
In a spike of motivation, he grabs a broom and later a mop. He starts at the kitchen, because it's been a while since he's mopped, then the galley, the aquarium bar, the crow's nest and finally the deck, watching with satisfaction, aching arms and a bead of sweat sliding down his temple as the murky mix of water, mud and blood slides off the ship under the mid-afternoon sun.
It's when the sweat has dried on his skin and he registers a slight chill on the back of his neck that he realizes time is slipping away and he should get started on dinner soon if he wants food on the table by the time the crew gets back.
It isn't his intention to go all out, it just sort of happens in the blur of worry and anxiety of needing to get everything ready by the time everyone comes back and knowing they'll be hungry, either because Luffy just dragged them in every direction all day or everyone just spending their allowance on things they want instead of food because they know they have food on the ship waiting for them.
The sun has disappeared by now, the sky darkening, and Sanji tries not to overly worry. If something was wrong, surely he'd see an explosion in the distance or hear shouts incoming. Whatever, it's fine, it gives him time to properly set the table as he rarely has time to do, tablecloth and everything. He might even hear a tale of a single-day adventure if they're taking so long, so he pulls some glasses in case anyone wants to drink something else. Hell, he even has time to knead some flat bread and make a spicy green dip and set it as an entrée in case Luffy is really hungry.
No one's here.
The stars are shining bright in the sky and no is yet here.
And Sanji tries not to let his heart sink but it's just... the food is getting cold.
Standing by the kitchen counter, he switches glances between the laid out table and the door and he stares and stares, and he should just sit down but he can't, his heart beats too fast to sit still so he covers the meal, walks out and lights up a cigarette before he does anything rash.
He's on the third cigarette by the time he spots colors in the distance and it's ashes when he hears Luffy shout, "Sanji! Look what we got you!"
What?
Luffy comes rushing in but that's not what's strange. Instead, he just bounces by Sanji's side and, Sanji realizes almost with a startle, waiting. Since when has Luffy ever waited for anything instead of running headfirst into the kitchen?
A minute after Luffy, the rest of the crew climbs on and Sanji's heart sinks.
Oh.
They look... satisfied.
Jimbe, Franky and Usopp all have pleased grins on their face, Chopper is walking with his eyes almost closed, the permanent scowl on Zoro's face is practically gone, Nami's hair is down and her shoulders are relaxed, there's an almost imperceptible orange stain on Brook's cheekbone but still visible against the contrast of the white bone, and, most importantly, a small bag hangs from Robin's hands.
She offers it to him with a gentle smile and Sanji knows, before he even takes it or smells it, that it's food.
They all already eat and Sanji wants to die.
It takes everything in him not to deflate, offer a smile as best as he can and choke out a, "Why, thank you, Robin dear."
He has a split second to panic, breathing cut short, before everyone walks right past him in the direction of the galley.
No...
No, no, no...
He's frozen on the spot, hands shaking and clutching at the bag so hard that his knuckles turn white at the same time, on the verge of cursing and sputtering and shouting at everyone to stop, stop and give him a minute or two to hide everything, but the world has always liked to make him the butt of cruel jokes so Luffy simply slams the door open and barges in, quickly followed by everyone else.
Still on the deck and with his eyes on their backs, Sanji catches the exact moment they all freeze too.
He sees a sudden guilt taking a whole of them but before they can turn and look at him with pity, Sanji inhales a shaky breath and slips through them on instinct, walking right past the table in the direction of the stove without meeting anyone's eyes.
The food in the little carton in the bag is not hot, so he has the perfect excuse to give himself a moment as that heats up, switching effortlessly between stirring the pan, picking everything from the dinning table to put it back in the counter and pulling containers to save the food for tomorrow. No one comments on the faint tremble of his hands.
"So, how was your day?" He says, and it's no small miracle his voice doesn't crack. "I would say a little boring, since I heard nothing explode, but I could be proved wrong."
The food is hot by now so he turns off the stove but doesn't serve it on a plate yet. He simply takes the tablecloth and carefully folds it as he tries to swallow the lump in his throat.
Nami is the first one to dare taking a step forward, her tone apologetic. "Sanji—"
"Yes, Nami dear?" He interrupts because he won't stand any gentleness right now.
A single kindness and the crushing pressure in his chest, the squeeze of his ribs, might become actual tears.
Nami doesn't continue because, what can she say to fix the situation? Sorry? They can't just apologize or be blamed for eating.
Stupid, Sanji says inside his head. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Of course they ate, they were hungry. It's not resentment he feels, never for his crew, but he just can't help feeling disappointment and promptly hate himself for feeling like that because it's no big deal. In fact, he should've expected that—it's a new island, of course they wanted to try the local cuisine. He should've known. He should've known and he's about to cry because of a fucking meal, for fuck's sake! It's pathetic.
The worst part? It's good. Whatever they brought him, some kind of meat in a bittersweet sauce accompanied by a rice-like grain spiced with greens, is fucking delicious.
Now, the very worst part is that his eyes are stinging and everyone is still staring at him.
Look away! Look away, dammit! Look away!
Softly, Robin tries again. "Sanji—"
"Mmh?"
She's speechless, glancing at the empty table, the food on the counter and himself between the plates, and Sanji decides to save everyone the weeping.
"Oh, this?" He says, forcing himself to shut down everything in him that feels emotion as he vaguely points at the food. "Oh, no, don't worry. If anything, it's more for tomorrow. I've saved myself half a day's work."
Then, Zoro. "Cook—"
But he doesn't make it very far because Usopp interrupts him, "You sure?"
"Yeah, yeah," Sanji replies, shoving another spoonful of food into his mouth to push down the lump in his throat. "No worries."
"Alright, everyone," Usopp continues, louder and clapping once, twice, "you heard the man. It's been a long day, let's go to sleep!"
Usopp knows Sanji's lying, because he's always been the most perceptive out of all of them regarding their feelings, and Sanji knows that Usopp knows but he can't be bothered gathering the energy to say something or deny anything. Sanji simply gives Usopp a nod as he drags half of everyone out or inside, slapping a hand over Luffy's mouth to stop him from talking, and usually Robin, Jimbe and Brook keep him company as he does the dishes but this time, Sanji's left alone in the kitchen.
The second the door is closed is when Sanji finally bursts into tears, face scrunching up and sight blurring. Trying hard to breathe in between sniffles and chewing because he's not about to waste food his crew went through the trouble of getting him. On the plate, amidst the stains of the sauce and the spoon, little clear, salty circles interrupt the sight of a meal well-finished.
He wishes he could say he stopped crying after that, but stray tears keep slipping as he puts everything in the containers and does the dishes.
When he goes to bed, everyone is already sleeping and although it takes him a little effort to let go of the tension in his body, the absolute exhaustion of the day hits him as soon as he lays down.
He must have been tired—because when he wakes up at the faraway sounds of people chattering and looks around in the room to find himself once again alone, he can't believe he missed everyone slipping away. Luffy's not exactly subtle, at all, at anything, and Sanji almost attuned to Zoro's snoring, to the point he blinks awake if the noise stops too suddenly.
It's strange enough that he cannot help the need to know what the hell is going on, rubbing at his eyes to get rid of the puffiness as he walks. The sounds get louder, distinctly voices, and confusion takes over his face as he opens the door.
Breathing faltering and heart skipping a beat, Sanji freezes at the entrance of the galley.
Everyone's here, spread all around the galley and the kitchen, dressed in pajamas and with sleep still clinging to their eyes and rosy cheeks and lazy grins—eating.
More than half of the dinner he prepared is gone. The only remains of the spread of onigiri he made is the plate, with only a single grain of rice that Zoro and Jimbe seem willing to duel for. Franky is getting spoonfuls straight from a pan, while Nami is picking at the flat bread and gathering sauce even though there's hardly any sauce left—the dip seems to be long gone. Multiple wrappers surround Chopper, his hooves stained with powder sugar and caramel. With remarkable grace despite the two bottles already empty on the table, Robin pours herself and Brook some wine, their glasses filled to the very top. Luffy is busy licking, actually licking, a bowl, getting the rim of it marked on his face, while Usopp laughs at him from the other side of the room, stirring soup by the stove.
"Luffy wanted a midnight snack," Nami explains, nonchalant as she throws the last of the bread into her mouth.
And Sanji's inside warm up.
Because yes, of course, he can believe Luffy wanted a midnight snack but the rest of them have no obligation to be here. They want to be here.
"We got hungry and we didn't want to wake you up," Robin adds with a soft smile, pouring a third glass and offering it to Sanji.
Usopp turns off the stove, grabs some mittens and brings the soup to the table. "And it's also been a while since we've had a pajama party."
Sanji knows he told himself he'd stopped crying but the lump in his throat seems determined to make him break his word.
At last, Luffy lets go of the bowl and grins, as bright as the sun, before saying, "Sanji! This was so good, can you make more?"
He sputters for a second, eyes widening. Can I make more? Of course I can more! What kind of question—
When Luffy reaches out to grab the pot and probably bring it closer to himself, Sanji reaches out just in time to slap his hand away.
And before he can react, Luffy pushes a ladle into his chest and picks his bowl with both hands, lifting it up until it's almost on Sanji's face. In the background, everyone has their bowl at the ready.
Ignoring the sting in his eyes and shaking his head at the utter silliness of his crew, Sanji softly chuckles and starts serving his family some food.