Work Text:
A Father's Tear
I died.
This time I knew it.
It was different from the times I had died before. In all the battles we had fought, all the wars and battles, I had suffered wounds that would have killed anyone else instantly.
It was a miracle that I was still here. That I had survived every single war, every single wound.
If I had had the strength, I would have smiled.
Chopper said I was a medical miracle. Robin was convinced that I had a guardian angel somewhere out there. And Zoro just said I was a damn lucky bastard.
Of course they said that.
They didn't know me the way I knew myself. They didn't know what my body had already survived when I was just learning to walk. They didn't know how many kicks and punches I had taken and how many times I got back up when I fell.
And I fell.
I fell often.
I had stopped counting until their blows blurred into a single gray.
My body got used to the pain. But my mind, my soul, had trouble adjusting to this life. My brothers mocked me, laughed, and kicked me because it gave them pleasure. And my mind screamed.
It screamed until it was heard.
I never thought I would ever experience anything like fatherly care. But then I met Zeff, and my life took a turn I could never have predicted. I hadn't even dared to think about it.
To have a father.
A real father.
My lips, cracked and bloody, twisted into a sad smile, and a mixture of laughter and tears escaped my throat, echoing off the cold walls of the cave.
I would give anything to see him again. I was not a master of words when it came to Zeff. I couldn't bring myself to tell him what he meant to me. I just hoped I could show him. And yet I regretted never having told him. In my mind, I had long since called him “Dad,” but I had never dared to address him that way. Maybe he saw it differently. Maybe he had only kept me around all these years because I was a decent cook.
A rattling breath escaped me.
I wanted to raise my arm, place it on my chest, on my lungs, which were on fire and killing me with agony.
No.
This time they wouldn't find me in time.
Neither Luffy nor Zeff.
I didn't know how many days had passed since I was kidnapped. My memories of that day were blurred. There had been a violent storm, and a pirate ship crossed our path. Nami screamed something, and all hell broke loose.
It was a Devil Fruit user who finally grabbed me and dragged me away.
Hours had passed since then. Days. Weeks.
More than once, I had tried to escape his captivity. But his crew overpowered me every time. They broke my bones. Slit my skin with their knives. Pulled my hair. Scratched my clothes.
And then, when there was hardly a spark of hope left in me, the time was up.
I didn't know what limit the pirates had set, but their boss turned to me with a grim expression, one hand on his sword.
“Time's up, kid. Your friends aren't here. They didn't come to trade you for the ransom. They just signed your death warrant.”
I wanted to say something, but no words would do justice to the situation. What could I say? That Luffy would never give up on me? That he would cross the entire ocean and beyond to find me? To save me?
I wanted to say something, but only a tortured groan escaped my lips.
He's not here, is he? Maybe he doesn't want to find you. Maybe it suits him just fine that you're gone. All of them.
It had been a long time since I had heard it. The little, evil voice in my head that clouded my mind. I knew that voice. I had known it since it had taken hold of my thoughts when I was a small child.
It mocked me.
It kept me small.
And it made it impossible for me to love myself.
There wasn't a single day, not a single minute in my life, when I saw myself exactly as I was. I didn't know what kind of person I was.
Was I kind? Helpful? Loyal?
Did others enjoy my company? My presence? Did they emulate my culinary skills? Did they like the smell of my perfume? Did they listen to the sound of my voice and wish to fall asleep to it?
I didn't know.
Because I hated those things about myself. For others, life may have been colorful, full of colors, shapes, lines, and patterns, diverse and fascinating.
For me, there was only a gray veil that had been imposed on me since childhood.
Because if there was one thing I knew, it was that I would never be good enough.
It wasn't a voice that put an end to my thoughts. Nor was it footsteps or the screech of a seagull outside the cave.
It was the blade of a sword that pierced my chest, missing my heart by inches.
A tear fell from my closed eyes. It ran down my cheek to my lips, which twisted into a pain-filled smile.
No.
This time, no one would come.
This time, there was no salvation. Neither for my heart nor for my soul.
This time, I was sure.
I died.
“Zeff! Zeff, is there any news?!”
I gritted my teeth, my eyes fixed on the poster in front of me, while my hand closed so tightly around the telescope that my knuckles turned white.
Carne and Patty appeared behind me in the doorway, but I didn't turn around. I couldn't look them in the face. I couldn't tell them that I didn't know.
A hundred times, no, a thousand times, I had studied the Dark Tiger pirate crew's demand. I lay awake night after night, my room lit only by the pale glow of a single candle, until I knew every line, every tiny word by heart.
They had Sanji.
They had my Sanji, my boy.
My little Eggplant.
My lower lip trembled, and with a deep growl, I swept the poster showing Sanji's face and the demand off the table. Patty and Crane flinched, but said nothing.
They knew how I felt. They understood my grief and my pain. But they could never truly empathize. Sanji was a comrade to them, a brother, a boy they had watched grow up. They were friends, good friends.
We all were here.
More than that.
Here at the Baratie, we were a family.
And nothing could ever change that. But Sanji was more than just a good friend or someone I looked after.
Sanji was my boy.
The same blood may not have flowed through our veins, but I would have given my own without batting an eyelid if it meant saving him from the clutches of those despicable bastards.
They demanded money in exchange for Sanji's life.
A lot of money.
Money we didn't have. And neither did the Straw Hat Pirates.
But that wasn't the biggest problem. I couldn't find him. The ransom note included coordinates that simply didn't make sense. No matter how hard I racked my brains, I couldn't figure it out.
“Boss, maybe we should...”
I didn't even let Patty finish. With an angry cry, I jumped up, swept the telescope, compass, and maps off the table, and kicked the chair so that it flew across the room.
My shoulders shook. My beard trembled, and with a jerky movement, I ran my hand through my hair, causing my chef's hat to fall to the floor. My heart contracted rhythmically, painfully, as if mocking me.
I had failed.
I had let my boy down.
My son.
I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as I felt the burning sensation behind them and clenched my hands into fists. I made many mistakes in my life. I ended many lives, robbed people, and was a bad person.
But never before had I regretted anything as much as not being able to protect Sanji.
I had failed.
“Boss—”
I raised my hand. I didn't want to hear anything. I wanted to be alone.
“Boss, over there, look—”
“Not now, Carne!” I barked.
I spun around, my face contorted with anger and despair. Then my gaze fell on their faces. Ash-pale. Eyes wide, bulging from their sockets. I frowned and followed Carne's outstretched finger.
My heart leapt.
“An island!” Patty exclaimed.
Frantically, I dropped to my knees, blindly searching through the many maps I had scattered on the floor earlier.
“Where is it? Where is it?!” I muttered to myself.
A shadow to my left made me pause. Carne and Patty crouched down next to me. My breath caught in my throat.
“Who's watching the restaurant?” I said in a hoarse voice.
Then Patty put his hand on my shoulder, gave me a reassuring smile, and nodded toward the island.
“Do you really think we could be working in the restaurant when our boy is in danger?”
A lump formed in my throat. Gratitude welled up in my chest, but I couldn't manage to form a coherent sentence. I swallowed, squeezed Patty's hand, and together we began to search for the wanted poster.
“Here it is!” Carne exclaimed.
I leaned over his shoulder and looked at the coordinates again.
"This island isn't marked on any map. That's why the coordinates led us astray. See that? The last two degrees of latitude are reversed. It should be 54, not 45!" I exclaimed in horror.
Oh God. The coordinates were wrong. That meant there was very little chance that the Straw Hat Pirates had already found Sanji. He was all alone. If he was still even...
As if in a trance, I stood up, my gaze fixed on the island in front of us. A dark shadow fell over me, so sharp, so cold that even Patty and Carne recoiled from me.
“Set course for the island. We're going to get our boy back,” I growled.
The island was deserted.
There was nothing to see but jagged rocks and steep cliffs. Just a lonely little island in the middle of the vast ocean. Carne, Patty, and the others combed through the sparse jungle in the west of the island, while I climbed over the rocks in the north.
Grey clouds gathered on the horizon, heralding an impending storm. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I climbed stone by stone. My heart was racing, pounding in my ears, much too loud, too overwhelming.
Sanji's name repeated itself in my head like a mantra.
The only mantra that kept me going.
I didn't want to give up.
I couldn't.
Because if I gave up, it meant Sanji was gone.
A sharp pain shot through my chest and I gasped, placing a hand over the spot. Right where my heart was pounding painfully against my ribs.
I would find him. And if it was the last thing I did, I wouldn't give up. I would bring my boy home.
I was about to turn around and continue searching down on the beach when I paused.
What was that?
With a furrowed brow, I stared at the black spot directly above my head. I reached out my hand and—
A gasp escaped me.
A cave!
Hidden in the shadows of the rocks, I had overlooked it at first, but now it opened up before me like a giant maw, just waiting to devour me. I hastily pulled myself up the rocks, hoisted my large body over the edge, and stood up.
Blood rushed in my ears as I entered the cave.
The further my steps took me, the narrower the passage became. It smelled of mold and salt. Only the pale daylight fell through the entrance, illuminating the gray stone and making it shimmer in a dark blue.
Coldness took hold of my limbs.
Coldness and the smell of iron.
I froze.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and from one second to the next, my blood turned to ice-cold lava.
The smell of blood wafted through the cave.
A deep growl, beyond all humanity, rolled over my lips, and before my head could comprehend what I was doing, I was already running. My wooden leg limped behind me, but this time I hardly felt it.
For the first time in years, I forgot that I was an old man.
Because now, at this moment, there was room in my heart for nothing but morbid concern for Sanji.
My footsteps echoed off the cave walls, frantic, desperate, marked by sheer fear.
The corridor ended in a bend, and I leaned against the wall, panting, and—
Suddenly, the world stood still.
I stopped breathing. The blood in my ears fell silent, and every sound, every wave, every flap of wings outside in the world ebbed away into a single murmur.
His blond hair stuck to his forehead, damp and stained with blood. His eyes were closed, and his arm—his much too thin arm—lay on his chest.
A whimper escaped my lips, unconsciously, and I shook my head, again and again.
The blood that had spread across Sanji's shirt was dark. A large, dark stain that flowed into an even larger pool directly beneath his body. A once strong body, now adorned with sharp bones, bloody scrapes, and purple bruises.
“E-Eggplant...” I gasped breathlessly.
My knees trembled and failed me.
I let myself fall next to him, not feeling the stones digging into my knees or his blood soaking through my pants. Trembling, I reached out a hand and touched his cheek, very gently, very carefully, as if he might shatter at any moment.
My lower lip trembled. A single tear ran down my cheek.
“No. No, my boy. My boy,” I whispered.
Paralyzed, I ran the back of my hand over his cheek and into his hair, brushing the strands away from his face. But his eyes remained closed. My face contorted into a painful grimace.
“Sanji. Don't do this to me. Please, I beg you, don't do this to me.”
A second tear stole from the corner of my eye. Behind me, I heard voices and hurried footsteps approaching. Patty and Carne had found the cave. But they were too late. They were too late—just like me.
My whole body shook as I pulled Sanji into my lap, pressed him to my chest, and buried my nose in his hair.
“DON'T DO THIS TO ME!”
My scream, torn by pure pain, echoed thunderously off the walls.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, dripping onto Sanji's head, drying in his hair.
Patty and Carne gasped sharply as they reached us. I could feel them stop and cover their mouths with their hands. But I didn't turn around. It didn't matter.
Nothing mattered anymore.
The most important thing I had left in my life lay in my arms, covered in blood, his eyes closed, never to see again. Not even the All Blue. A tortured sob escaped my throat and I pressed Sanji closer to me.
A moan, so quiet that I hadn't heard it at first, reached my ears.
I paused. I clung to Sanji as if he would otherwise vanish into thin air. And then I felt him. His heartbeat. Irregular, much too weak, much too tired, and yet it was there.
I turned my head and stared into his face.
His eyelids twitched.
And my heart skipped a beat. I felt like I was going to throw up. Something that had been foreign to me for years.
“Sanji?” I whispered, placing a hand on his cheek.
Another groan. Behind me, Patty gasped for air, clinging to Carne's arm, tears in his eyes.
Sanji opened his eyes, his eyelids fluttering.
And his gaze found mine, as if he had been waiting for it, as if he had been searching for it all these days, for nothing else but that. A mixture of crying and laughing escaped me and I let my forehead sink against Sanji's.
“My boy. You're alive,” I whispered.
“Y-you...”
“No! Don't speak, boy! You mustn't speak now, do you hear me?” I cried in horror.
But Sanji ignored me. Just as he had done so many times before. And that alone, that fleeting familiarity, made my heart stumble.
“You came,” he said in a choked voice.
I shook my head, incredulous and stunned that he had ever doubted it.
“You stupid, stupid brat,” I sobbed.
Sanji's eyes wandered over my face and a strained smile tugged at his lips. He saw the tears in my eyes, the reddened cheeks, the tousled hair, the worry lines on my forehead. And suddenly his smile faded and he became serious again.
“I love you, Dad.”
My eyes widened. It was like a bolt of lightning striking me. Sanji's eyelids fluttered and all his weight pressed against my chest. I put my hand on the back of his head, lowered my lips to his forehead, and closed my eyes.
“I love you too, my son. More than anything else.”
And this time, a tear of joy, of pure and complete relief, stole from the corner of my eye.
Because as I lifted Sanji into my arms and carried him out of the cave toward the ship with Carne and Patty, I knew that everything would be all right again.