Chapter Text
Sanji, more than anything, hated to be treated like a child.
Unfortunately for him, he was one. He was newly eleven, his birthday having been celebrated just yesterday. He still wasn’t used to his birth being treated as some momentous or joyous occasion, but the shock had settled in a little more than last year. Still awkward, but at least this year he didn’t need multiple chefs to coax him out of a pantry.
He had spent two years at the Baratie and was practically a man for it. He fought against rowdy customers, cooked better than all the chefs there, and had been taught by Zeff on how to fight using his legs in combat. He was good at it too! There was no reason to treat him like some insolent child anymore. He was growing up and loathed when people pretended that he wasn’t.
Like right now.
“You promised!” Sanji stamped his foot on the kitchen floor. A few of the cooks, new ones who didn’t understand the routine yet, glanced over. “You said I could go by myself when I got older!”
Zeff just sighed, “I meant when you were older. Like fifteen. Not eleven.”
The reason for this argument happened several days before Sanji’s birthday, when the pair were cleaning up the restaurant. It had been a busy day– which always meant messes– and Sanji had been so preoccupied with sweeping that he hadn’t even noticed the older man checking their stock on food until he heard a groan of frustration.
“We’re running low. Going to have to send Patty out tomorrow morning.” He muttered a string of curse words under his breath. “Just has to be a rush day that we’re a staff member short.”
Immediately, Sanji perked up. Even though he could cook just fine, the higher-up chefs always insisted that someone check over his food before serving ‘just in case’. It pissed him off, especially on hectic days where they didn’t have time for it and made him wait tables instead. He had been on a few supply runs before. It was peaceful, being out at sea. The restaurant might be out on the ocean, but it wasn’t the same as sailing a small ship out on the waters. Every time he went, it had been with someone, but he was sure that he could manage by himself. He had seen others go off countless times and knew the basics.
“I’ll go!” Sanji beamed up, already imagining the fantastic voyage that he would surely go on. “Let me do it!”
His excitement was crushed not even a moment later as Zeff laughed, ruffling a large hand through his hair. He had absolutely not pouted at that, but more so wilted in disappointed under his touch.
“Some day, kid. Just wait until you’re older.”
At the time, his words had made Sanji brighten up. Zeff assumed it out of excitement for something years to come, not a few days later. But here they were, shouting over it in the middle of the restaurant. Thank god it was a slow day, otherwise he would’ve had the kid’s head.
“But you said I could!” Sanji’s voice went up an octave as his chin wobbled. The sound was obnoxious enough to grate against his eardrums painfully, but he knew all too well what was about to happen if this kept up. Whenever the kid’s voice began sounding like this it was a telltale sign that he was getting too upset and would probably throw a tantrum. Usually, he would just let it happen and let the boy deal with the fallout. He would be humiliated and teased for days and, as entertaining the thought was, he knew when to pick and choose his battles.
Besides, he could partially understand why Sanji was so upset. Sure it was all a misunderstanding, but he must have been looking forward to the prospect of a solo trip– just for Zeff to crush said dream in front of everyone. Hell, he would be infuriated if it was him. But even if it made Sanji angry, he wasn’t about to give a child a boat and let him loose in pirate-infested waters. He also wasn’t going to let him throw a tantrum in the kitchen.
Instead, he took the best approach he could think of. He jabbed a stern finger upstairs, in the direction of Sanji’s bedroom. Although Zeff didn’t say anything, the venomous glare on his face said enough. The preteen’s face collapsed, visible eye widening with tears that threatened to spill out at any moment. He could barely contain his cries, teeth barred against his bottom lip to keep any sound from coming out, but conflicting emotions ran across his face. They flickered back and forth, ranging from anger and sadness, before settling on betrayal.
“You promised,” Sanji hissed out. His words were laced with anger, dampened only slightly by the spit spluttering out with them. He turned around fast enough that Zeff could barely catch the tears that were beginning to stream down his face. There was a pang of guilt in his chest as he watched the kid run upstairs. Sure, Sanji could be emotional at times, but he was still just a boy. Zeff should have explained a little better– made sure he knew the whole thing was a joke– before the misunderstanding could have reached this point.
He sighed, turning back around to resume chopping up the vegetables that he had left unattended. He would make it up to Sanji tomorrow. The kid could work in the kitchen and shove some other chef out to serve customers. After all, he knew there was a long list of cooks that the boy was plotting revenge on for making him wait tables. Perhaps he could teach him a few more fighting moves too. Not that he would ever admit it, but the kid was freakishly good at fighting with his legs. Zeff suspected he was taught how to fight before, but the style was so unique that he still struggled at times. Balance, it seemed, was the biggest problem as Sanji sometimes struggled to stay upright during more complex moves.
Yes, he would do that, he decided as he kicked some nearby chef for going too slow. Let the boy calm down tonight, then cheer him up tomorrow in his own way. He let the pull of monotony take his mind elsewhere, none the wiser to the storm brewing upstairs.