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When he reached the cliff, a man was already sitting there.
The view was breathtaking: a mountain range stretched far beyond the horizon, the bluish haze of the trees concealed a lake below, and the setting sun painted the sky a dull gray. Leaves swayed gently in the wind as the last birds of the day sang their lullabies.
Law admired the scenery for a moment before sitting down beside the guy. The stranger didn’t seem to mind, though his expression was unreadable. The doctor shot him a quick glance but, receiving no reaction, fixed his gaze into the distance. They sat in silence, interrupted only by the occasional whisper of wind from the nearby forest.
"I planned to be here alone. Could you leave, please?" A hoarse voice broke the quiet.
Law turned his head. The stranger’s golden hair fluttered in the wind, obscuring his face. But his voice betrayed either recent tears or a throat condition. Law didn’t dwell on it. Some random guy’s life didn’t interest him.
"Same, but as you can see, there were already people here when I arrived," Law clicked his tongue. "Not all our wishes come true."
He sighed and looked down. It was a long way down. A river ran directly beneath them — an incredible spot. Why wasn’t it more popular? Even online, it was hard to find pictures of such beauty, yet here it was, free of charge, no electricity or internet required.
The stranger pulled out a pack of cigarettes and searched for a lighter. Law demonstratively rolled his eyes: he’d come all this way to escape the city, only to still breathe in smoke. Thanks, random guy.
But then his gaze fell on the shoes behind the stranger. He’d taken them off. The most logical explanation came to Law, and he smirked:
"What, your last moments alive?"
The stranger was silent for a beat before taking a drag and slowly exhaling. The wind instantly scattered the smoke, carrying it away.
"Yeah," the guy replied. "And someone’s really getting in the way."
"People with your attitude don’t usually end things themselves," Law leaned back slightly, staring at the mountains.
"You know so much about me to judge"
Sharp. Law usually dislikes such people: as they said, after all, we hate in others what we see in ourselves. But whether it was human sympathy for someone desperate enough to die or simply Law’s good mood, the guy’s words didn’t anger him much.
"You came here yourself and now you’re lecturing me," the stranger flicked his cigarette butt down.
"Hey, don’t litter," Law chided.
"Let me have this one last indulgence before I disappear."
Law sighed. It was a bad idea to escape from people in the most popular place for suicides from the very first day. He’d even brought beer, hoping to enjoy the view and silence. Raising his head, he realised that this was why people avoided the place. Not even the scenery could outweigh its grim reputation. He’d chosen it for that very reason,after all.
"Aren’t you leaving anything behind?" the stranger asked. "Or will you just remain a missing person forever?"
"I’m here for something else," Law chuckled. "Work, friends, filial duties, and a mentor who’s been drilling my brain. It all got to me. And it’s usually quiet here, with no one around. Perfect for a breather."
"You know you sound like a serial killer, right?"
Law turned and raised an eyebrow. The stranger seemed to sense his irritation:
"Coming to a place where three or four bodies turn up a year and just… admiring the view. Like a killer revisiting his trophies."
"...Never thought of it that way. But now I can see the headlines: ‘Deranged Surgeon Kills Depressed Teens for Years.’ Except you’d be my first victim."
"I can’t do it with someone watching. So relax, you won’t be making headlines tonight."
Since he was stuck with this company, Law decided to make the best of it. He reached into his bag and pulled out two bottlesof beer, handing one to the guy.
"Call me Law."
"Sanji," the man accepted the drink.
As Law fumbled for a bottle opener, Sanji deftly popped the cap off with a rock. Law couldn’t do that but maybe he’d learn something new today.
"So, Sanji. What’s got you settling scores with life?"
"My fiancee, the one I fought my best friend over, lost all my other friends, and got fired for… Turns out she was only with me because her mother wanted my family’s inheritance. Except I’ve been disowned since I was six. It all came out at the wedding, live-streamed, and she threw the ring at me, cursed the world, and ran off. That bit… My father immediately started arguing with her mom, my brothers laughed, and my sister just stood there, confused. So I went home to an empty house, left with nothing, and thought… Maybe I can’t survive this one. So I changed clothes, took the first bus, and here I am."
"Spent the whole trip rehearsing that speech?" Law remarked.
"Still tweaking the details," Sanji smirked.
"You don’t act like someone who wants to die. Just someone who’s desperate. You’ll regret it."
"The dead don’t regret."
"Fair point."
Law took a sip. Unlike Sanji, his own troubles weren’t so terrible. He’d just come to unwind.
"Was she at least pretty?" Law asked.
"The most beautiful," Sanji closed his eyes, letting the wind hit his face. "I’d already imagined our family, our kids…"
"Hurts that bad?"
"Enough to die," Sanji laughed at his own joke.
His gaze turned hollow. Poor guy, Law thought. He couldn’t imagine himself in that situation — he had too much to live for. His parents, friends, mentor… He didn’t know who exactly to thank, but he’d do it tonight.
"You’ll find another job," Law sighed. "But a woman after this… Doubt it. That kind of trauma sticks."
"Playing psychologist now?" Sanji asked.
"A good friend of mine’s a psychiatrist. Guess I picked up some habits."
Sanji nodded.
"Besides, I’m sitting at the edge of a cliff with you. Pretty sure the rules say I have to talk you down," Law scratched behind his ear.
"Keep ‘comforting’ me like that and I’ll jump just to end the conversation," Sanji laughed.
"A tired man can’t fix a broken one. Unfortunately."
Night crept over the landscape. The last traces of sunlight clung to the mountain peaks. The trees vanished into darkness, but the silhouettes of the mountains still loomed in the mist.
"I only got one piece of advice," Law said. "Morning always brings better decisions. Sleep on it, then decide."
"I’ve got nowhere to go," Sanji replied firmly.
Law raised an eyebrow:
"She took your house too?"
"I threw my keys down. And my phone. And my bag. Easier to commit that way."
"...Well, we’re not finding them in the dark."
Law stood, tucking his bottle into his bag. He held out a hand, and Sanji took it, pulling himself up though Law had only meant to take the empty bottle so Sanji wouldn’t toss it. Can’t litter.
"Consider me the Virgin Mary," Law grinned. "But you can crash at my place tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll find your stuff."
"...You’re sure you’re not a serial killer?" Sanji eyed him warily.
"I will be if I let you sleep in those clothes up here. You’ll die of hypothermia, not the fall. Let’s go."
Law pulled out his phone and dialed Shachi. He and his brother were probably out driving. They’d be happy to make the trip to pick them up. And as they walked, Law’s phone buzzed with his friends’ excited voices.
The guys sat at the bus stop. Darkness and silence surrounded them. The lone streetlight had been shattered by kids a month ago, and no one had bothered to replace it. Sanji lit a cigarette, and that became their only source of light. Law didn’t want to drain his phone battery using the flashlight, especially since he still had to get back.
They knew his friends were approaching by the blaring music and headlights. At first, they drove right past, but soon screeched to a halt in reverse. Law sighed.
"When was the last time you checked your brakes?" he asked Penguin as he stepped out.
"It’s the suspension, relax," the guy shook his hand, then eyed Sanji. "With you or…?"
"With me," Law shut down further questions. "Got room?"
"Always space in the trunk!" Shachi yelled from the driver’s seat.
"...You’re sure you’re not a serial killer?" Sanji asked.
"You wanted to die anyway. Get in," Law opened the back door.
Sanji cautiously climbed inside, where Bepo was already sitting with a bag of food. He blinked in surprise at the unfamiliar face but immediately brightened and introduced himself.
"So, where to, star-crossed lovers?" Shachi laughed.
"I’ll knock your teeth out in a second," Law replied.
"We’ll love you no matter who you are or who you love," Penguin added solemnly.
"Stop."
Law exhaled heavily.
"Destination: my place. Till then, drive wherever."
"The bar on Litovskaya!"
"Better the one on Latgales!"
"I want Lütkrewerg! Their donuts are amazing!"
"Or Gaoqing! They serve killer infused vodka!"
"Hey, why are you barefoot?" Bepo’s question cut through the chatter.
Sanji glanced away. His hollow stare said enough. For a second, Law even felt the urge to physically comfort him: a hug or a pat on the back.
"Long story," Sanji muttered.
"Left ‘em in the heat of passion?" Penguin teased, earning a kick from Shachi. "The hell?!"
"I’m guessing bars are off the menu?" Shachi asked.
"Sharp as ever, Doc," Law said. "But I’ve only had one beer. I refuse to end today sober."
Shachi shifted gears:
"Hey, what’s your name?"
"Sanji..."
"Like Vinsmoke?" Penguin joked. "Have you heard about that scandal?"
"Saw it live," Sanji replied.
"Penguin," Law cut in. "Are you drunk or just stupid?"
Bepo handed Sanji and Law donuts. The latter refused, but the blond thanked him and took a careful bite, wincing as the sudden sweetness made his jaw ache.
"Let’s just crash at your place, Law," Shachi said, eyeing the rearview mirror. "Cool with you?"
"Hey, what about Litovskaya?" Penguin whined.
"Thank God you went into anesthesiology and not psych like Dad wanted."
"Still smarter than you."
Penguin raised a fist.
"Where’s the booze coming from?" Law interrupted the siblings’ squabble. "It’s getting late."
"Ikkaku's a help," Shachi grinned. "She always knows where to get it. Call her."
"None of you find it concerning that a pathologist always knows where to get alcohol?"
One phone call and forty minutes later, Sanji sat in a massive house surrounded by a crowd. At least forty people laughed and debated loudly. He hunched slightly, uncomfortable, and stayed quiet on the couch, avoiding attention.
"If you want," Law noticed his tension, "there’s a bed upstairs."
"...Can I use the kitchen?" Sanji asked unexpectedly.
"Go ahead. Straight down the hall, right side."
Sanji left, and Law kept drinking. Ten minutes later, he jolted up and sprinted to the kitchen. What was he thinking than letting a suicidal guy into the one room with knives? What cosmic oversight made him miss that detail?
His abrupt movement killed the party’s buzz. Some followed, exchanging glances, while others waited or resumed drinking.
The kitchen lights were blinding. When Law bursted in, he froze.
Sanji was just... cooking.
An e-cigarette dangled from his lips (politely borrowed from someone), his hands deftly manoeuvring a spatula over a sizzling pan. He hadn’t expected an audience, so he blinked at Law and exhaled a stream of vapour.
"What’s wrong?"
"...You’re cooking?" Law asked, mostly to convince himself.
"That’s how I calm down," Sanji shrugged. "Forget my problems when I’m at the stove."
Then familiar faces crammed into the doorway, voices overlapping:
"Why’s it smell so good in here?!"
"Sanji! What’re you making?"
"Sanji? Nice name. Didn’t even notice you earlier!"
"Oh God, is that meat? Please say it’s meat."
Sanji smiled and kept cooking. Law stared, baffled. He didn’t get it. But if this brought him peace, who was he to judge? Grabbing a beer, he decided to stay awhile.
Law woke up with a hangover and a floor littered with passed-out drunk friends. Sanji was asleep on the couch next to him, face buried in Law’s chest. He didn’t want to wake him, but last night’s revelry pounded in his skull like a drum, his eyes gritty with sleep. Gently, he extracted himself and trudged to the bathroom.
Law brushed his teeth and glared at his reflection. He looked as if he was the one who’d been dreaming of oblivion on a cliff’s edge yesterday. Splashing water on his face, he skipped shaving and headed to the kitchen.
He planned to start cleaning after painkillers, but to his shock, the place was spotless. Aside from the humans, there was no trace of last night’s chaos — no glasses, no dirty dishes, no overturned furniture. Law knew his friends. They hadn’t done this. That left one person, and the responsibility for this miracle order fell directly on him.
Law brewed coffee and scrolled through his phone. Soon, Shachi joined him, eyes still sealed shut. He poured coffee directly into the bean jar instead of a mug, then face-planted onto the table. And while his drink was cooling, Sanji shuffled in.
His eyes were barely open. Yesterday’s clothes clung uncomfortably to his skin. His hair was a disaster. Yet instead of fixing any of that, he opened the fridge and started cooking.
Cooking. Law stared, equal parts baffled and impressed. After all that alcohol, he could barely sit straight, yet this man was somehow functional. Not just functional but working for free, half-asleep. How has anyone ever thrown him away? Law felt like he’d stumbled upon a diamond.
"Oof," Penguin muttered, sipping his brother’s coffee while scrolling his phone.
No one noticed his arrival, so his words were ignored. He scratched his head, then slid the phone to Law, who blinked at it before finally reading:
"Belongings and shoes of Vinsmoke Sanji found in the canyon. Preliminary theory: suicide. The search for the body is ongoing."
"Oof," Law echoed. "Sanji, we don’t need to look for your keys anymore."
Sanji turned, raising an eyebrow. His hair was still a wreck.
"Police found them. Just gotta pick them up."
"I’ll go later," the blond sighed. "After a beer. I can’t live with this headache anymore ."
"Fridge," Law offered.
"Thanks."
Shachi slid off his chair and thudded to the floor. He woke up, rubbed his lower back, and left the room. Then Law stood up and grabbed a cold beer: the best hangover cure he knew.
"So," he said, sidling closer to Sanji. "You’re a free man now?"
Sanji shot him an unreadable look.
"Guess so."
"And I’m free," Law took a swig. "Catching my hint?"
"Catching it. Still deciding if I should kick you with my leg or hit you with this pan."
He stirred the potatoes — since when did Trafalgar own vegetables? — then turned fully toward Law. He tried to glare, but his bedhead and morning scruff ruined the effect.
"C’mon," Law clicked his tongue. "You were ready to die. Gotta try everything before then. No take-backs."
Sanji fell silent, studying the floor. His beer was warming near the stove, so Law helpfully moved it away. He wasn’t a chef, but he knew beer tasted better cold.
"I like red roses and wine," Sanji said abruptly. "Just so you know."
Law blinked twice, processing that, then grinned. Despite their morbid “cute” meet, he saw a strangely bright future ahead. Maybe too bright. For the first time in ages, he’d have a proper breakfast and someone to talk to at the edge of the world.
"Well," Law rasped, "Noted."
"Guys," Penguin whined. "I’m happy for you, but I’m still sitting here."
Once again, everyone ignored him.