Chapter Text
Sanji nervously adjusts his tie in the mirror. He runs his fingers through his hair and pulls on his shirt to straighten it. He stares at his red cheeks. He can’t stop blushing. He feels like an idiot with how much he’s smiling, but he can’t find it in himself to care.
Zoro asked him to dinner. A proper, real date between the men, with conversation and prolonged eye contact, and Sanji nervously flattens his tie again at the thought. Is Zoro nervous too? Sanji hopes so. He doesn’t want to be the only one on edge, but does Zoro even get nervous? The man has nerves of steel, Sanji can’t imagine him any other way.
Well, maybe he can imagine him in a few ways. The blushing mess Zoro had been after Sanji kissed him on the boat, or how nervous Zoro had been in the days after their night together, or before, on that night a few weeks ago, when they were intimate. They haven’t done anything more than kiss and touch lightly at each other since then, but they’ve done enough that Sanji can hear Zoro’s shaky breath when he’s close, feel Zoro’s teeth on his skin, feel him pulse in his hand, all just by closing his eyes and remembering. He’s seen Zoro fall apart and blush like crazy, so maybe saying Zoro doesn’t get flustered isn’t accurate. Maybe it’s more like… Zoro doesn’t do nerves like Sanji does. Zoro can blush and fall apart and even beg for Sanji, but he doesn’t get up in his head and overthink, he doesn’t get anxious like Sanji does.
But Sanji still wonders if Zoro is nervous. Maybe Zoro is. Maybe he’s just as red in the face as Sanji is, maybe he’s adjusting his own clothes and flattening his hair and trying to breathe. Maybe he’s a blushing mess.
A blushing Zoro makes Sanji’s heart sing. He likes that he can affect the other like that. It’s nice to shatter that masculinity of Zoro’s, not that it’s unattractive, because it isn’t, but because it makes Zoro seem more… approachable. Real. It makes Sanji feel like he has control, power even over Zoro. It makes him feel special.
“Oi, eggplant! The moss is here!” Zeff yells up the stairs, and Sanji turns away from the mirror, thoughts replaced with raw nerves as he races to the door leading down the stairs. The apartment is attached directly to the restaurant, with thin stairs connecting the two. Zeff is at the bottom of those stairs, pointing a ladle up at Sanji.
“Get him out of here before he thinks he can get a free meal!” Zeff orders as he walks away. Sanji runs down the stairs past him and to the front of the restaurant, where large windows show the front sidewalk.
Zoro is there. He’s wearing a nice, black, ironed shirt, probably courtesy of Nami, and his hair is a little neater. The scar on his face cuts through his eye, permanently closing it, but his other blinks nervously, shifting from the street in front of the Baratie to the window and past it, to Sanji.
Sanji suddenly feels too nervous.
This is really happening.
Sanji stares at him a moment longer, at his red cheeks and his nice clothes, at his pretty eye and suddenly Sanji feels terrified because holy shit, this is happening. No more sneaking glances, no more yearning and believing it to be impossible. They’ve come so far from awkward teenagers fighting just for an excuse to touch. Sanji can remember wanting more from their bond all the way back when they had helped Nami those years ago, in a forest under stars and a moon and with flowers growing all around and Zoro looking so beautiful Sanji would have cried if he didn’t clamp down on his tongue and force himself to turn away.
Sanji finally works up the nerve to approach. He opens the door and steps outside. The summer heat hits him like a wall, but his cheeks had already been warm just staring at Zoro. His heart picks up as he comes closer and Zoro turns to him. Zoro’s eye widens a fraction.
“Oh,” Zoro grunts. “Uh, you look nice.”
“Thanks,” Sanji awkwardly stands there, fidgeting. “You, uh, you look nice too.”
Zoro nods. “Nami helped me.”
“I kind of figured. You can’t dress for shit on your own,” Sanji laughs.
Zoro scowls. “I can dress myself.”
Sanji just laughs and grabs Zoro’s arm to drag him down the sidewalk. “Yes, but coordination?” Zoro’s skin is warm under his fingertips. How nice it is to finally touch, to get to touch, and not have it devolve immediately into a fight.
“Why do I have to coordinate?” Zoro frowns as they walk. “It’s just clothes.”
“Coordination makes it look nice.”
“So you’re saying I look like shit most of the time.”
“Well, at least you can admit it.”
Zoro rolls his eye. “Just 'cause I don’t wear a suit every day doesn’t mean I look bad.”
“You look somewhat nice, sometimes. There are times I can even tell you showered.”
Zoro huffs a laugh. “You still think I’m hot, though.”
Sanji almost blushes. “Shut up! I do not!”
“Is that why you keep fooling around with me?” Zoro wonders out loud.
Sanji turns and presses his finger against Zoro’s lips. “Shut up!” He hisses as his whole face heats up. He hates Zoro, he decides, the asshole.
“Just admit you like how I look,” Zoro smirks, an infuriating expression that makes Sanji want to scream.
Sanji huffs and turns away. He stomps away down the sidewalk. Zoro follows.
“I didn’t hear you deny it.”
Sanji groans. “An idiot. I’m with an idiot.”
Their date, as Sanji planned because Zoro suggested an armored MMA match and beers and hell if Sanji’s first date is going to be anything like that, is simple. A nice restaurant with seats reserved overlooking the ocean is first, something even Zoro can hopefully handle due to its familiarity. Then, a park, with flowering trees and a live band and fuck is Sanji nervous. He hadn’t been this nervous when they had slept together, probably because of the alcohol and the suddenness of it all, and he hadn’t been this nervous on the Merry when he kissed Zoro, also probably because of the alcohol. But he’s sober now and the restaurant is coming into view and Zoro is staring up at the sky and his lips look so soft and his tan skin glows and maybe Sanji is in over his head. Maybe he should run-
But he told himself no more running. He told himself he would stay, and face this new world and all its possibilities. He wants to stay. But his heart is hammering away against his ribs like a drum and he kind of wants to drown the butterflies in his stomach so he can finally breathe.
Sanji looks over at Zoro. Zoro is looking at the restaurant now, and he looks confused.
“Wait, why didn’t we just go to your dad’s restaurant?”
Sanji sighs. “Because Zeff is an asshole. And because the Baratie is also not fine dining, it’s cheap and simple, and also the other chefs wouldn’t leave us alone if we stayed there.” Patty and Carne would probably harass them and lord knows what Zeff would say.
“But your cooking is gonna be better than this.”
Sanji’s cheeks flush. “It’s not about the food! It’s about the company!” he snaps, feeling flustered.
Zoro turns to him, his own cheeks darkening. He grins nonetheless, sharp, bright, and Sanji knows he’s about to say something dumb.
“Oh? Didn’t realize you liked my company that much, cook,” Zoro smirks, and Sanji has the strong urge to kick him into the water and go home.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Sanji says stiffly. He leads them down the dock to the restaurant as Zoro follows behind.
“But…?” Zoro teases.
“No buts! I’ll cancel this date right now! God, you’re an asshole,” Sanji seethes.
“Sure, but you just said you like my company,” Zoro laughs. “You don’t mind.”
Sanji’s ears burn. Maybe he doesn’t mind, and maybe he likes Zoro’s brazen audacity, but he also hates him. Zoro is an asshole. Maybe Sanji should get his brain checked for liking this guy.
“You didn’t deny it,” Zoro says again.
Sanji flips him off and stomps ahead. Zoro laughs at his back and follows a few steps behind.
Asshole!
Sanji fumes as they reach the doors. The doors open to a dimly lit lobby and idle chatter from guests, and the smell of seafood. The higher class spot is a little richer than the Baratie, with a chandelier made of delicate glass and tall windows with rich red curtains. Couples make up most of the guests, and soft music plays from a live jazz band playing on the main floor.
Sanji gives the hostess his name while Zoro looks around, not very impressed by the decorations if his expression is anything to go off of. The hostess leads them further into the restaurant and up the stairs to a second floor balcony overlooking the water. They sit and the hostess leaves them to their privacy. Curtains fall back to block most of the restaurant from view, and quiet settles between them.
Sanji’s nerves go into overdrive. He stares out at the water past the flower laden balcony. It’s sunset, and the ocean is a thousand different colors in the low light. Salty air and a cool wind drift over to them. Sanji breathes it in.
He turns to Zoro. Zoro is staring at him, and when their eyes meet, Zoro’s one twinkles in the light, same as the ocean. The steely grey looks soft despite its cool tone, and as Zoro smiles, the corner of his eye crinkles.
Sanji’s heart squeezes. He sits up and reaches across the table to touch Zoro. Zoro’s hand is calloused and rough. His thick fingers curl around Sanji’s as Sanji takes his hand and Sanji feels so lucky knowing he can just do this now. No more longing that hurts his chest or stings his eyes. No more tears or shameful nights alone with nothing but his palm and his imagination. He can just hold Zoro’s hand, and knows Zoro will hold it back.
“This is nice,” Sanji turns to look out at the water. The ocean smells nice, and the wind is cool and salty in the summer heat. A few boats float on the water.
“You used to live on the ocean, didn’t you?” Zoro asks.
“Technically, we all live on the ocean. Boston, remember?” Sanji teases.
Zoro rolls his eye. “I meant back in France,” he says.
Sanji blinks, surprised. “You remembered that?” he asks.
“The accent is hard to miss,” Zoro says. “Plus, you never shut the hell up about the ocean. Just thought it was because it reminds you of home.”
Sanji stills at the mention of home. To him, Boston is home, and has been longer than France was.
“France was just where I was born,” Sanji says. “I was raised here, by Zeff. But there was a time when I lived on the Mediterranean, before I met Zeff. That year… was the best year I had in France. I fished and shucked oysters for the fishermen, and in exchange I was allowed to sleep in one of the cabins. At night, I watched the waves and the fish, and could see every star in the sky.”
“Sounds nice.”
“What about you? Aren’t you from the rich part of the state?” Sanji changes the subject. France is tough to talk about, since so many of his memories of that place are terrible. Sanji leans on his hands. “Weren’t you raised in a mansion?”
Zoro snorts. “I wasn’t raised by Mihawk. Perona just decided I was her brother one day and dragged me to their weird house. I only lived there a few years.”
“But still, the Berkshires?”
Zoro shrugs. “I wasn’t rich. I just lived there. Everyone was an asshole, especially the kids at school. Everyone looked down their noses at everyone else. It was stuffy, and boring, and no one could fight. Even the dojo was boring. Just Kuina was alright.”
“Kuina?”
“The sensei’s daughter. She was strong. Kicked my ass every day.”
Sanji watches the rare wistful smile on Zoro’s face. He looks fond, and nostalgic, but sad too.
“I always imagined you knew Luffy your whole life,” Sanji says. “That you two tore that place up.”
Zoro snorts. “Nah, I didn’t meet Luffy ‘til later.”
“Let me guess. He asked you to join his pirate crew.”
“He did that a few times. But no, we met in jail.”
“Jail!?” Sanji shouldn’t be surprised, given Zoro is well, Zoro, and Luffy is a menace, but still. “You idiot.”
Zoro frowns. “What was that for, asshole!?”
“Stop breaking the law!”
Zoro scowls. “But they were being assholes!”
Sanji sighs. “I swear, you and Luffy live in a different century with how often you break laws.”
“Nami said something similar.”
“That’s not something to be proud of!”
Zoro laughs. “I bet we’d have made good pirates. Imagine everyone on some big ass boat, just sailing around and visiting islands.”
Sanji glances back out at the water. It sounds nice, and if his time on the water taught him anything, there’s a certain freedom that comes with living away from society, just waves lapping against the side of the boat and a small crew as your world. Sanji imagines it, being with his friends, with Zoro and Nami and Robin.
“Luffy would demand to be captain.”
“Brook is the musician,” Zoro says. “You’d be the cook.”
“Damn right,” Sanji says. “What’d you even do? Sleep? Would we put you on sleep duty?”
“Fuck off. I’d-” Zoro frowns. “Well, I dunno. Maybe guard the boat?”
“From what? Fish?”
“Other pirates.”
“So you’d just fight and sleep.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Sanji rolls his eyes. “Who would navigate? Nami? Usopp? Would Usopp even make it on a boat?”
“Doubtful,” Zoro laughs. “But his dad’s a pirate, so maybe he’d be alright.”
Sanji imagines Usopp on a boat. He doubts the man would survive. Neither would Chopper, or Brook, who would both be having breakdowns daily.
“Maybe it’s a good thing you guys became dog groomers,” Sanji says.
“Luffy would disagree.”
“Luffy is a little freak.”
“Says the freak.”
Sanji glares at Zoro. “I’m the freak?”
The waiter arrives with menus and water. They order drinks and after the waiter disappears, Sanji unfolds his menu. He glances up at Zoro, who hasn’t looked at his and is instead looking at the alcohol available.
“Are you going to even look at the menu?” Sanji demands.
“You can order for me. You know what I like,” Zoro shrugs.
Sanji frowns, but doesn’t push it. Zoro trusts him. It’s kind of sweet. When the waiter returns, Sanji orders for them both. He gets a roasted salmon in a spicy sauce for himself, and shrimp fettucine for Zoro. Zoro orders cheap beer, after finding out there’s no sake.
The waiter walks away and Sanji turns back to Zoro, who looks around the place with a frown.
“Kind of bougie,” Zoro comments. “Baratie is better."
“You haven’t even eaten their food,” Sanji rolls his eyes. “Don’t be an ass.”
“What? Your cooking is going to be better, so why pretend otherwise?” Zoro demands. His beer arrives, and he takes a sip. “Beer’s good though.”
“You…” Sanji huffs. He’s flattered. Zoro can be sweet, can’t he?
Zoro belches.
Sanji scowls. Nevermind. Zoro is a mannerless asshole.
“Do you plan on drinking the place dry?” Sanji demands when Zoro downs his third beer.
“Yeah,” Zoro grins, all brilliant white teeth against tanned skin and mischievous glittering eyes.
Sanji’s heart jumps at the sight, and a light heat crawls across his cheeks. He looks away, towards the ocean, and tries to ignore the blush as it creeps down his neck.
God, Zoro confuses him. The man makes him want to throttle him just as much as he wants to kiss him.
“So… what’s new at the dog groomers?” Sanji asks, to give his mind something else to think about besides dragging Zoro back to his apartment and sucking the life out of him.
Zoro downs another beer and laughs. “Someone tried to bring in their rabbits to groom. Two white ones.”
“Rabbits? To the dog groomer?”
“People are weird,” Zoro shrugs. “We ended up grooming them anyway. Nami can’t say no to a paying customer. Pretty sure it was a mom and her kid.”
“Oh, wonderful Nami. Still, rabbits… I saw a family of them once back in Marseille. It was a mother leading her kids around. All pure white, with the red eyes and everything.”
Sanji smiles at the memory.
The mother hadn’t gotten close enough to his brothers for them to notice, so they were safe, and the family escaped into the woods not long after Sanji saw them. Sanji returns to the present as he notices Zoro staring. He winks, and Zoro’s ears blush.
“So, you can handle rabbits?” Sanji can imagine the other as he groomed them. Was Zoro happy about it? He rarely smiles when he works, at least from what Sanji has seen, but maybe the rabbits brought out a different side of Zoro.
“S’not like they’re stronger than me,” Zoro shrugs.
Sanji shakes his head. “I don’t mean in a fight, dumbass. I mean, does your little magic trick work on rabbits too?”
“Magic trick?”
“Yeah, where you talk to them and they calm down. Like what you do to dogs.”
“Oh. I guess?” Zoro shrugs. “S’not like I do anything special. They just listen.”
Sanji has seen it in action. Zoro’s little trick with animals is part of what made Sanji fall for him. That calmness, the care and patience, Zoro’s gentleness around animals is heartwarming. Sometimes Sanji goes down to the dog groomer's business just to watch Zoro.
“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve groomed?” Sanji stares at Zoro as the other thinks.
Zoro huffs a laugh. “Robin brought in her pet snakes once for a bath. Chopper brought his guinea pigs… Luffy keeps bringing in wild pigeons. That’s probably the weirdest. And the most annoying.”
Sanji can imagine them running around the grooming room trying to wrestle a pigeon to sit. He laughs at the image of Zoro, stoic, bitch-faced Zoro fumbling with the wild bird, feathers everywhere.
“At least he doesn’t bring back wild geese to the apartment anymore,” Sanji shakes his head. It happened twice.
Zoro snorts. “Waking up to take a piss and I get attacked by a goose? Yeah, I’m glad that doesn’t happen anymore.”
Sanji and Zoro chat while they wait for their food. Sanji asks after the groomers, then pokes Zoro for stories about Perona and him growing up together.
“So, Perona forced you to be her brother?”
“She gave me no choice. I tried leaving four times and every time, she would find me and drag me back. Mihawk finally had to agree to give me free sword lessons for me to stay.”
Sanji takes all this in, and comes away with a concerning realization.
“Wait… what about your… other family?” Sanji words carefully. He always hated it when people called his biological family ‘real’, and felt insulted on Zeff’s behalf. He never knew Zoro might have had a similar upbringing.
“My parents died. Grew up in a dojo,” Zoro shrugs. “Then I left when I was a teenager. Lived in barns and shit until I met Perona.”
“You were homeless?” Sanji gapes at him.
“I guess? I was taken in by my instructor. But after… He wasn’t really the same,” Zoro says. “So I left.”
Sanji stares at Zoro, studies him. “That’s… kind of a terrible way to live.”
Zoro shrugs again. “I met Mihawk and Perona and they took me in, so it wasn’t all bad. Then I met Luffy and Nami, and now we’re here.”
Sanji studies Zoro. He doesn’t seem that broken over his past, despite it sounding downright nightmarish. Zoro just downs another beer.
“So, Miss Perona saved you,” Sanji smiles.
Zoro scowls. “More like she kidnapped me.”
Sanji laughs.
Their food arrives. Zoro digs in, nodding his approval. Sanji eats, looking up every once in a while to stare at Zoro, or to look out at the ocean.
They eat and chat in the comforting restaurant, until their plates are cleared. Sanji orders some tea, Zoro another beer.
“This is nice,” Sanji sighs. He closes his eyes. “Very nice.”
“Food’s alright,” Zoro shrugs. “But you were right. The company was better.”
Sanji’s face heats up.
“Let’s do it again,” Zoro suggests, and Sanji cracks open his eye to smile at Zoro.
“Yeah. Let’s.”
■□■
“C’mon, we don’t have all day.” Nami taps her foot impatiently against the floor. “The pharmacy is gonna close in half an hour.”
“I don’t need my pills,” Luffy says as the microwave goes off. The smell of corn dogs fills the apartment. “They make me tired.”
“Yeah, they also help with the pain,” Nami points out as Luffy takes a huge bite from his corn dog. “You know, that chronic thing your doctors told you about?”
Luffy shrugs. “Doctors tell me stuff all the time. The only doctor I like is Traffy.”
“Well, Traffy is a surgeon, not a pharmacist, and he’s also not your doctor,” Nami grabs Luffy’s arm and drags him towards the door. Luffy’s corn dogs come with him. “C’mon. And we have to go collect Zoro, too. He was supposed to be back by now, but I am positive that idiot got lost. If we don’t hurry, he’ll wander off and we might never see him again.”
“Shishishi!” Luffy laughs. “His sense of direction is so bad.”
Look, it’s the kettle calling the pot black. Nami rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, and yours is about the same,” she opens the door and drags Luffy outside with her. She locks the door behind them.
“I bet he’s in the park,” Luffy grins. “Or under a bridge.”
“You just want to go to the park,” Nami accuses. “Wait… you guys are hanging out under bridges again? I told you guys to stop doing that!”
“But the stray dogs hang out under there! And the spiders! I want a pet spider so bad!”
“Absolutely not,” Nami says. “You have the brown recluses in the basement. Freak.”
Luffy laughs.
They walk down the street towards the pharmacy a few blocks away. Luffy eats his corn dog, standing on the sidewalk while Nami goes inside to pay for the medication. She joins him a few minutes later. After, they head for the grocery store nearby, where Zoro was supposed to go. They pass a park near the store, the sweet notes of a violin playing
“Hey, I know that sound,” Luffy turns in the direction of the violin.
Over a wall, about halfway across the park, Nami sees a familiar black head of curly hair. As if sensing someone looking at him, the curly-haired musician turns, locking eyes with her and grinning wide.
Brook isn’t alone. He has two somewhat familiar faces with him. Nami knows them because they had only recently reached out to her about a previous dog-snatching incident.
“Smokey!!” Luffy shouts, waving at the cop.
Smoker is the only cop Luffy likes, probably because he isn’t a dick like the other cops. He’s still an asshole, and a cop, so Nami hates him by default, but she can also tell he genuinely cares, and doesn’t seem to hate the homeless. He’s even rescued a few dogs and brought them to the groomer’s, which is how they met in the first place. Luffy seems to like him, though Nami isn’t sure why. At least Luffy isn’t trying to fight him.
Smoker scowls. Beside him, his partner Tashigi crosses her arms. Both cops wear their summer uniforms, the summer heat making them both flush and sweat. Tashigi fans herself as Nami and Luffy come closer.
“Great, what do they want?” Nami mutters. They veer into the park as Brook comes running over. The cops don’t join them, instead walking away, talking to each other. Tashigi gives them one last look over her shoulder.
At least they’re leaving. Nami watches them go before looking over at Brook.
“Nami, Luffy!!” Brook calls, tall and thin, waving one arm above his head. Nami recognizes Laboon, a large black parrot perched on Brook’s shoulder. He looks unbothered by the noise. “Is that you?!”
As Brook comes around the wall, several heads poke out behind him, children who from the looks of it had gathered around Brook to listen to his music. Their faces light up at the sight of Luffy.
“Rubber guy!!” Pepper screams, while the other three run to Brook.
“Why’d you stop playing?” Carrot pouts.
“Play that one song! The one about beer!” Otoko begs, giggling loudly.
“Sorry, sorry, of course!” Brook lifts his violin and strikes the strings, picking up where he left off seconds ago.
The three boys are friends of Usopp’s, and Otoko is a new girl in the neighborhood, having moved to Boston just recently. The four grew close to Luffy and Usopp, but have a particular attachment to Sanji, given how often the cook has made food for them over the few years they’ve known each other. They also rather like Zoro, especially when he lets them swing from his arms. But their favorite is Luffy. Probably because Luffy is pretty much a kid himself, having not grown up in most ways. The kids adore him, especially when he leads their games.
“Let me climb you!” Pepper raises both arms, grinning widely up at Luffy.
“Swing! Swing! Swing!” Onion chants.
As Luffy plays with the kids, Brook plays along to the chaos with his violin while Nami sits on the low wall beside him. “So, those cops were bothering you too?” she asks Brook.
“They were quite curious about our recent adventure this past spring,” Brook says.
Pepper has whipped out a water pistol and is shooting it at Luffy. Luffy pretends to die. As the kids gather around him, he suddenly leaps up, tackling them all while screaming, “PSYCH!!”
“Yeah, they’ve been hounding me too,” Nami sighs. Nami and her friends haven’t been treated like suspects, but they’ve still been harassed nearly every day for the past month. She wonders what could have triggered their investigation.
The children scream as Luffy chases them through the park. Pepper and Carrot run and hide behind Nami and Brook, giggling as Luffy circles the wall. As Brook continues to play, Nami leans back and stares at the sky. It’s blue, cloudless, but starting to darken as the sun sinks.
“Ah, perhaps I am mistaken, but that looks to be Zoro and Sanji, does it not?” Brook says suddenly.
Nami looks up. She can see a bright gold head and a green one walking down the street across the way, locked in an argument. They both hold brown paper bags.
“So that’s where he wandered off to,” Nami says. At least Zoro seemed to have gotten some shopping done, if the bags are any indication.
“Sanji~! Zoro~!” Brook sings, waving. They look over, Zoro blinking and Sanji’s attention shifting from Brook almost immediately to Nami, who he twirls over to without hesitation.
“Nami, my dear~, “ Sanji cries. “What a visage to be met with!” he stops in front of her, dropping to one knee. “I am truly a blessed man!”
“Oh, stop, you’ll make me blush,” Brook giggles, covering his cheeks.
“Shove it, old man!” Sanji yells, pointing his lit cigarette at Brook.
“SANJI!!” Onion runs over. “Are you here to cook for us??”
Carrot, Otoko and Pepper run over too, joined a second later by Luffy, who almost tackles Sanji in a hug. Sanji holds him back with one hand.
Luffy grins. “Hi, Sanji!!”
“Hi, Luffy,” Sanji pushes him back so Luffy stumbles to stand with the kids.
Laboon on Brook’s shoulder flaps his wings a few times before taking off to fly past Sanji, aiming for Zoro. He lands on Zoro’s shoulder as Zoro walks into the park. The bird nuzzles against the side of his head.
The children rush past Sanji to swarm Zoro, all pointing at either his hair or the bird on his shoulder. They look to be teasing him, if the tense grimace on Zoro’s face is anything to go by. Otoko has a wide toothy grin as she points between him and Sanji. She says something that makes the green-haired man blush.
Brook titters, his quiet yohohoho muffled behind a thin hand. He ignores the look Sanji gives him in response in favor of leaning over the bag Sanji is holding. “Shopping?” he asks, innocently.
“Yes…?” Sanji answers slowly, studying the tall man.
“Together?” Brook tilts his head.
“Obviously,” Sanji answers.
Brook’s face breaks into a grin. “Oh, obviously?” he giggles.
Nami snorts as Sanji’s face turns red. “Oh, real smooth, ladies man,” she laughs at him. When Sanji sputters out something like, “not- not together- well, yes, together, but not that kind of together,” Nami and Brook both just laugh.
“How did you even find him?” Nami asks.
“The houseplant was outside the Baratie.” Sanji replies. “I assume he’s not supposed to be there.”
“You’d be correct,” Nami shakes her head. “He was supposed to be grocery shopping. Guess that’s what happens when we let him go alone.”
Zoro chooses that time to stomp over to them. Laboon is going between cleaning under his wing and rubbing his beak on Zoro’s cheek.
“Take your bird. He’s being weird,” Zoro says with a grimace. Laboon takes that moment to bury his beak into Zoro’s ear.
“Nice of you to show up,” Nami says. Laboon flaps his wings a few times but just hops up on top of Zoro’s head. “Get lost a bit?”
“Shut up,” Zoro scowls. He looks away. “S’not what happened.”
“So you just went to the Baratie because you like the company?” Brook asks, all innocence even if Nami can hear the undercurrent of teasing in his voice.
Zoro huffs, looking away. His ears are red.
“At least we can always rely on the him showing up outside the Baratie whenever he’s lost,” Nami points out.
“Shishishi! Yeah, Zoro always ends up there,” Luffy grins. “Hey, can we go? I’m hungry.”
“Zoro has supper,” Nami replies automatically.
“And Zeff won’t let you eat for free, again,” Sanji adds.
“Aw, man,” Luffy frowns.
Sanji pulls out another cigarette and lights it one handed, his other arm wrapped around the grocery bag. “Well, I have to go. Zeff will have my head if I’m not back soon.” He exhales.
“Aw,” one of the nearby kids pouts.
“Stay and make us supper!!” Luffy tries to wrap Sanji up in his arms.
Sanji dodges the rubbery limbs with ease. “I’ll cook some other time. But only for you, madam Nami,” he bows to Nami.
Nami rolls her eyes. “Just go home.”
“As you command, my dear!” Sanji swoons. “You’re beautiful even when pushing me away~!” he twirls away, happily, and is out of the park in seconds.
“Weirdo,” Nami shakes her head fondly. When she looks up, Zoro is still staring at where Sanji had disappeared. Nami sees this, and gives Zoro a sharp grin that he sees when he pulls his eye from the gate.
Nami knows about their date. She had seen how nervous Zoro had been leading up to it. She had teased him relentlessly, even as she helped him dress for it and brush his hair and even suggested cologne, which Zoro refused. As much as Nami made fun of, and continues to make fun of Zoro, she also knows his feelings are sweet, and real, and deep. She knows he’s felt this way for a long time. She’s happy he finally did something about it.
“Let’s head out ourselves,” Nami says, pushing off the wall. “We’ve got stuff to do. Zoro, with us. You will get lost.”
“I will not,” Zoro doesn’t sound convinced.
“Let’s hurry so we can eat!” Luffy drags Zoro and Nami towards the gate. “Bye Brook!!!”
Brook waves goodbye and continues to play his violin. He’s playing it like a fiddle at the moment, and the children cheer. The sound follows them out of the park and down the street.
□■□
The letter had been sitting on the doorstep to Sanji and Zeff’s apartment, just a small black square envelope sitting on the doormat, when Sanji returned with his groceries. Sanji picked it up and flipped it over to read the addressee.
It was for him.
Sanji hadn’t recognized the writing on the envelope, nor was there a return address, but he knew exactly who it was from regardless. It would have been a mystery if they hadn’t used a certain name when addressing him.
Vinsmoke.
Sanji’s hands shake as he stares down at the letter, blood running cold. Sanji reads the name written there over and over.
Why? How did they find me?
The paper the envelope is made from is thick and hides its contents well. Even holding it up to the light reveals nothing.
Hands still shaking, Sanji brings the letter inside and opens it. He reads it. When he’s done, he reads the letter again to make sure he wasn’t mistaken. It’s short.
It reads:
Third son of the Vinsmoke family,
You are hereby ordered to report to the attached coordinates to meet with your family. Vinsmoke Judge demands your appearance. If these orders are not followed, there will be dire consequences.
Vinsmoke Ichiji.
The envelope also has a few photos. One is of Zeff, one of Nami and Zoro, and one of Luffy and Chopper.
Sanji’s hands continue to shake as he folds the letter and puts it back in its envelope. He steps outside and lights up a cigarette. He crouches against the wall.
The buzz of nicotine calms some of his nerves. He smokes the whole cigarette without moving from his spot, then, when that cigarette is burnt down to its butt, he lights another and smokes through that one too. He considers a third when his phone rings.
“Eggplant, I needed you back here ten minutes ago,” Zeff’s gruff voice says when Sanji answers.
Hearing his voice makes something in Sanji’s chest twist. He remembers the letter, the threats made against this man’s life.
“Oi! You hear me-”
“I have to go somewhere,” Sanji informs him. His voice isn’t shaking even if the rest of him is.
“Yeah, back to my damn restaurant-”
“No,” Sanji swallows. “Uh… I have to go.”
“What the hell are you talking about-”
Sanji hangs up. He slowly lowers his phone, feeling numb. All around him, the evening city celebrates a hot summer’s night. It’s loud, and smells like food cooking, but nothing gets through the gloom settling over him.
□■□
“Nami, my dear~,” Sanji says as soon as Nami picks up the phone.
“What do you want?” Nami demands. “Did you forget something?”
“Oh no, nothing like that,” Sanji chews on his lip. He feels guilty lying to Nami, but he can’t let her know what’s going on, either. He can’t involve any of them with the Vinsmokes. “I just have a bet with Patty. He thinks the coordinates are on land, I say water.”
“Hm,” Nami hums. “What are the coordinates?” Sanji gives them. Nami types something on her end. “They’re on water,” she says.
“Can you send me the proof? Patty won’t believe me, otherwise.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll send them. Boys and their bets,” Nami sounds like she’s rolling her eyes. “Anything else?”
Sanji wants to keep listening to her voice, if he’s being honest.
“Nothing else, my dear. Thank you!”
“Uh huh. Bye, Sanji.”
They hang up. Sanji checks his messages. Nami had sent him a map with the coordinates marked on it. Sanji calls a taxi to drive him to the wharf, spends the whole ride feeling cold and numb, and now he stands on the docks edge, staring out over the water.
The Vinsmoke’s boat is out there. Judge, his brothers, his sister… All around him, the city is getting ready for sleep. He would be working right now, but instead he’s standing here, looking out over the ocean towards his end.
How did they even find him? He had run, cutting ties with them and never told them where he had gone. Hell, he had left the entire continent behind, moving to Boston with Zeff. Marseille is an ocean away, and Sanji isn’t exactly famous - he’s a damn cook for fucks sake, at some small seafood restaurant in a city full of seafood restaurants. Were they spying on him? How did they track him down? How did they know who his friends were? Has he always been under their eye?
Sanji exhales shakily.
Was he ever free?
He finds an old fisherman planning on doing some nighttime fishing and Sanji asks if he can bring him out to the sea. The old man agrees, if Sanji sorts his bait and tackle. So now Sanji sits in a rickety old boat, sorting the fisherman’s tackle box as they sail out to the open water. The old man hangs an oil lamp from the bow of the boat, the only source of light besides the glow of the city behind them.
“Now that’s a ship,” the old man comments after about half an hour.
Sanji looks up from where he’s been working, and his heart sinks as he sees the warship that belongs to the Vinsmokes. He recognizes it immediately, as his father had frequently brought the kids on board when Sanji was still with them. Memories of his brothers beating him flood back. They had shoved Sanji into the sea one day, and forced him to tread the water for hours before finally kicking down a ladder so Sanji could climb out. Judge’s only reaction was anger that Sanji had missed supper.
The ship is far enough away from the shore that Boston is just some lights on the horizon. That such a significant, bright city is nothing more than a blip makes Sanji feel so alone, so far from safety. Zeff is back there. Nami, Robin, Luffy, Zoro, they’re all somewhere in that hazy light. It’s late, so Zeff is definitely asleep by now. Nami and Robin are early sleepers, so they’re in bed by now. Luffy and Zoro… well, Luffy is probably stuffing his face, planning to pass out in a food coma, and Zoro is most likely working out. Franky, Usopp, Chopper, they’re studying, Brook likely playing music for Laboon. Thoughts of his friends make Sanji’s heart squeeze, and he feels even more alone.
Fuck, he had been grocery shopping with Zoro not even four hours ago. He had seen Nami’s angelic face, listened to Brook’s violin and teasing. He had kissed Zoro behind the supermarket, gotten yelled at by Zeff before leaving, woken up that morning and got called in to work an early lunch shift. Things had been normal, they had been his every day, and now… now everything feels unattainable. It feels like a lifetime ago, like he never actually left France.
Sanji stares up at the boat as they approach. They sail up to a platform lower on the ship, a metal dock for smaller vessels. The fisherman wishes him luck as Sanji climbs out and onto the dock before he rows back out to sea, his lamp glowing in the light fog.
Sanji watches him go and feels truly stranded now.
“So you decided to come,” says a woman’s voice, and Sanji whips around, searching the dock and then going higher when he doesn’t see anyone.
His sister is sitting on the edge of the ship above him. Her legs are crossed as she stares down at him, barely a flicker of emotion passing through her eyes. She’s wearing a dress, which exposes giant tattoos on her legs. Other than the tattoos, she looks the same as she did when they were kids, with the same pink hair and curl in her brow.
“Reiju,” Sanji greets her.
Reiju’s eyes flicker with some emotion, but it’s too fast for Sanji to register what it is. She doesn’t move. “Father is waiting,” she says.
“He’s not my father,” Sanji corrects her. A gust of wind blows through him, chilly with the night air. Sanji finds the ladder up and climbs until he’s on the deck of the carrier. Reiju watches him silently. When he reaches her, Reiju stands and turns to him.
“Then Judge,” she watches him. “Judge is waiting,” Something in her voice gives Sanji the slightest pause. She sounds stricken, just barely a twinge of something deeper in the way she talks and looks at him.
Like she’s mourning.
“Where is he? I want to get this over with,” Sanji walks past her.
Reiju turns to follow. She takes a few steps to catch up and pass him, then leads him through one of the doors on the ship and down a long corridor. The hall reminds him of the long dark halls in the house he grew up in - windowless corridors, dark musty offices stuffed with furniture. It gives him a choking feeling like there is mold on the walls.
They walk until they reach a door. There are voices on the other side, voices Sanji recognizes with a sinking feeling. Reiju pushes the door open and they step into a large throne-room like hall with a large, high-backed chair sitting on a platform a few feet off the ground.
Judge sits on the throne, looking down his nose at Sanji. On the lower platform below him are four more chairs, three of which are occupied.
Yonji sneers. “So you really came.”
Niji laughs beside him. “Of course he did! The little weakling probably cried when he saw our threats,” he stands and walks down the steps to stand in front of Sanji. “So, did you piss yourself when you read our letter?”
“I see you are still as unpleasant as ever,” Sanji says, sidestepping Niji’s attempt to clap him on the back.
Reiju smiles slightly as she takes her seat.
Niji scowls. “Don’t get cocky with me, shitstain.”
“Niji. Sit,” Judge commands. Niji follows his order, taking his seat and frowning down at Sanji. Judge turns his attention from his son to Sanji. “And you. I expected you sooner.”
Sanji glares up at him.
“Well, I’m here now,” Sanji doesn’t flinch when Judge stands. “Now what the hell do you want?”
“I’d put more respect in my tone if I were you,” Ichiji says.
“Fuck off,” Sanji spits at him.
“Oi, you want a beating?” Yonji cracks his knuckles.
“Now is not the time,” Judge says. He stands. “Sanji.”
Sanji waits.
“You are the third son and fourth child of the Vinsmoke line, my son,” Judge rumbles. “You are to marry.”
The words take a second to sink in.
“What!?” Sanji gapes at him. “Why the hell would I do that? And I’m not your son.”
“You will marry,” Judge’s tone is final. “And unite our families.”
“Why the fuck are you asking me?” Sanji glares up at Judge. “I left, remember? And I’m not your fucking son! You disowned me!”
The memory stings. Judge’s final disappointment, his final words to Sanji, before Sanji ran. Judge had said so himself that Sanji was no son of his, so why now!? And marriage!? What the fuck kind of game is Judge playing!?
“Because I don’t want to lose one of my real children to that family,” Judge stares down at Sanji. The words real children feel like a stab to the heart, but Sanji ignores it. This man before him is no father of his. That was decided a long time ago. “This marriage will unite two powerful families, but I would have lost a son in the process. It was unbearable, until I remembered I have a useless son somewhere in the world that I can throw at them.”
Sanji grits his teeth.
“How perfect that you can finally be of use,” Judge continues. “My pathetic, worthless disappointment.”
Sanji wants to attack this man before him. He wants to kick him in the teeth, break his nose, skin him alive. How many Judge sit here and demand this of him!? How can Judge think Sanji would just go for it-
Sanji remembers the photographs. He remembers the threats, and his anger grows.
Judge thinks he can just drag Sanji back into this world. Judge thinks nothing of Sanji’s life, of his freedom, of his friends lives. And Sanji can’t do anything about it. He can’t fight back, because he knows Judge’s agents will follow through on it. He knows they’d really kill Zeff, and Luffy, and Zoro.
Not three days ago, he had been on a date. Not four hours ago, he had listened to Brook play music for children in the park. Now, the world feels dark. Now all their lives are in danger, and it’s because of this man before him.
“This is the end for you,” Niji sneers at him.
“Yeah, do what father says. It’s not like you have a choice,” Yonji chimes in.
“Do what you're told and your friends live. That pathetic old man, too,” Ichiji says.
Zeff, Luffy, Nami, Zoro… every last one of them is in danger, and it’s because of Sanji’s family. He inadvertently put them at risk just by associating with them in his past. A deep, cold dread sucks the heat from Sanji’s body, leaving him empty and flooded with fear.
Ichiji, Yonji and Niji all laugh. Judge glares down at Sanji, and Sanji glares back.
“There is no choice,” Judge says. “You will obey.”
Sanji’s brothers laughter chases him out the door as Judge dismisses him, following him down the hall and out onto the deck.
Sanji nearly collapses. He sinks to his knees and exhales shakily. He feels cold despite the heat in the air. The black skies are bright with a field of stars. They might have been beautiful, but Sanji doesn’t look at them.
He stares at his hands. Sanji chokes, and brings them to his chest. He’s shaking.
He and Zoro were supposed to go out again tonight. Sanji had bought a new tie and everything, he had been so excited, so happy- but now…
Now Zoro is probably wondering where Sanji is. Sanji curses again.
“Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry,” Sanji grabs his hair. He pulls on the strands, bunching them in his fists.
Everything has gone to hell.
“I’m so sorry.”
■□■