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It started on a night like any other. Sanji and Usopp were resting side by side on the soft, lily white wool of the Merry, admiring the vast night sky above. Between them, two empty wooden steins sat, forgotten. The two were engrossed in their conversation, talking about anything and everything that came to mind.
When their conversation reached a lull, soon after the moon had reached its highest point in the sky, Sanji disappeared into the kitchen. His slender tail wagged behind him, as it is oft to do when the chef gets excited, the tuffet of golden blonde fur at the end never quite brushing the ground. Just as Usopp started to worry - which, admittedly, did not take long - the cook came back out with a bottle of wine. Usopp recognized it immediately, it was the bottle Sanji reserved for “beautiful ladies”. He must be more drunk than I thought, Usopp reasoned to himself. Or maybe it's some kind of test? Will he pick a fight as soon as I touch it?
But it didn’t look like a trick, as far as Usopp could tell. The blonde was still sporting an unbothered, lopsided grin. He flopped down beside Usopp and held out the bottle.
“C’mon, I promise it’s good stuff,” Sanji shook the bottle back and forth, the deep burgundy liquid churning inside like a crimson ocean. Usopp’s eyes narrowed, and Sanji let out a weary sigh. “Just try some, long nose. If you don’t like it I’ll get us something else.” His tail thumped on the ground behind him, which Usopp figured to be a display of annoyance.
Quick as a whip the sniper’s hand shot out, grabbing the bottle. In one motion he pushed the cork out with his thumb and took a heavy swig of the liquor.
Sanji stared at the man next to him, curled eyebrows raised high on his forehead. Then, he began to laugh. An unbridled howling filled the air, the tittering of a lively fox. To Usopp, it sounded like silver bells. Sanji held his stomach, rolling over the field of white fur under them. “What was that?!” he squealed between breaths.
“Wha- I-“ Usopp struggled to find the right words without embarrassing himself. “I didn’t want you to hit me!”
“Why would I hit you?”
“That’s, I mean, I’m a guy! You only ever splurge on the ladies.”
“As a proper gentleman should! You wouldn’t understand. A lady deserves to be courted with chivalry and charm.”
“Like this?” Usopp took some weeds, now wilted, from his pocket and sat up on one knee. “Oh fair m- cook, I present thee with this! A token of my…” Usopp struggled to find the words. “Uh, my… appreciation?”
Sanji’s cheeks flushed red, whether from the alcohol or the chill of the night Usopp didn’t know. Like blooming roses it spread from his nose to the tips of his pointy ears, disappearing under the tufts of blonde fur at the ends.
“Yeah, just like that.” Sanji said in a voice that sounded strangely breathless.
Silence fell over them like a shroud, robbing them of whatever they would have said in its place. The night felt suddenly colder to Usopp. He couldn’t help but notice the tightness in Sanji’s shoulders, his lips parted in silent surprise, his ears pressed back against his head. Nor could he ignore the way the cook leaned away from him ever so slightly. It reminded Usopp of a wild animal, readied to make a run for it if need be.
Oh crap. Why did I do that?! Stupid, stupid! Sanji hates any attention from men, I’ve seen him beat guys to a pulp for less! What the hell was I thinking?! Now I've gone and ruined his night…
In a desperate attempt to break the silence and put an end to his spiraling thoughts, Usopp opened his mouth and said the first thing that came to mind.
“So, haha, what’s your favorite flower?”
If there are any gods looking down upon us, please end my misery.
“I mean, you really like flowers, right? You always stop to admire the ones on the side of the road. And when we go into town together, you always ask if there’s a local flower shop! Even though you never buy anything- But that’s beside the point! You must have a favorite, right?” Usopp rambled on until he ran out of air, waving his arms around in some panicked attempt at a placating gesture. Sanji stared back at him, the picture of bewilderment.
Maybe I’m just overreacting. Tomorrow this will be a hilarious story, and we’ll all laugh… Oh, who am I kidding?! Sanji’s going to hate me! He’ll never want to hang out with me ever again, and he’s going to ban me from tinkering in the kitchen, and-
“Espoir de l’impératrice,” Sanji bit out. Usopp turned to face him with a questioning stare, but the cook was staring at Merry’s fur.
“Espwah… What?”
And Sanji sighed - soft yet dramatic, the sound of a man making a decision fully knowing it will be the end of him. “Espoir de l’impératrice,” Sanji repeated, louder this time. More confident in his words. His eyes flitted to Usopp and his expression softened. It was barely visible in the soft moonlight that bathed them. “That’s my favorite flower. But I… I haven’t seen one in a while,” the cook trailed off with a grimace.
Usopp leaned in closer, bracing on his hands. “Why not?”
“It only grows in the North Blue.”
Several agonizing weeks later, Usopp knew nothing more about the flower than the night Sanji had whispered its name into the cold night air. Not for lack of trying. The sniper had gone to every florist, botanist, herbalist, and farmer in the few towns the Straw Hats passed through. Not a one knew anything about the espoir de l’impératrice.
With no one else to turn to, Usopp is forced to take drastic measures.
Relatively drastic measures.
Nico Robin had been traveling with the Straw Hats for a good while, but Usopp still took caution when interacting with her. A completely logical, fair, understandable caution. Nico Robin was a demon, in everything but name. A self proclaimed specialist in assassination and ancient, forbidden magics. She towered above every other member of the Straw Hat Adventurers, with twisting horns sprouting from a mane of jet black hair. If that was not bad enough, Nico Robin had a penchant for scaring Usopp in particular.
The door to the library opened before Usopp could knock, revealing the archeologist lounging in the green bergére chair she had seemingly claimed as her own. She was reading a book - some strange tomb, Usopp assumed - occasionally using the spade-like tip of her tail to turn the page. Without looking up, she called out, “Is there anything you need, little sniper?”
Usopp jumped at the sound of Robin’s steady, even tone. After giving himself a second to recover, Usopp puffed out his chest and cleared his throat. Willing his nerves to quiet, he strode into the room. “Oh, well yes, actually! I’ve been looking for this flower,” he began. “Uh, the name is a bit hard to say, but it sounds like a bird. Or a monster? Yes, like a cockatrice-”
“Espoir de l’impératrice.” Robin interrupted, pronouncing the name just as Usopp had heard Sanji pronounce it.
“Yes, that! I’ve looked everywhere and nobody knows anything about it! And I was just wondering if, maybe, one of your books has some information?”
Robin’s lips curled into a small smile “You are in luck. I believe I have just the thing.” The sweet smell of freesias filled the room. Long inky black limbs rose from the floor, reaching for the botany section of the tiny library. Spindly fingers tipped with needle-like claws carefully flipped through several books at once. Before Usopp could change his mind and flee the shadowy hands shut the books, save for one, creating a single resounding thump. One of the limbs pressed a dark green and gold leather bound book into Usopp’s hands, then sank back into the ground.
In just a second, the room had returned to how it was when Usopp first entered. Robin had never even looked up from the tomb she was engrossed in. The sniper looked down at the book he had been handed, and found it had already been opened to a specific page.
Espoir De L’impératrice
The Empress’s Hope
And stuck between the dusty pages was a bag of seeds.
Usopp’s eyes lit up in surprise and delight. “Oh, Robin, this is perfect!” he exclaimed. He began to back out the door again, when Robin spoke up.
“That flower is from the birthplace of our dear cook, yes?” Usopp froze. He slowly turned, giving Robin a look like a deer in headlights. Robin’s smile was impossibly wide, showing off a mouth full of hook-like teeth. Her eyes glowed like half moons framed by a gleeful self-satisfaction.
Usopp let out a nervous chuckle, which twisted into a manic squawking. “D-does it? What a coincidence!” he squeezed out between wheezes. Before Robin could respond, Usopp was already slamming the door behind him.
“I didn’t know you had such a green thumb, long nose.”
Usopp jumped at the sudden voice and turned sharply to face the intruder. There, leaning against the closed door, was Sanji. “S-Sanji? What are you doing down here?”
“You missed breakfast. I guess you didn’t hear me calling for you…” Usopp looked at the plate in Sanji’s hand, one of the only plates left without a single chip or crack, piled high with eggs, thick sliced ham, and golden hash browns. Sanji placed the plate on the worktable in the center of the room. Usopp could feel his mouth start to water as the delicious smell of Sanji’s cooking filled his workshop. “I uh… I brought you some,” Sanji mumbled, his head turned in such a way that his wavy blonde hair shielded his expression. “But don’t you go making a habit of this! I’m a chef, not your butler.”
He looked back to see Usopp already digging into the meal. A smirk ghosted across the cook’s tea rose lips - this was answer enough for him.
While Usopp ate, Sanji’s sharp, ocean blue eyes scanned the workshop with open curiosity. He looked over every knick knack with a mix of intrigue and admiration - though he admittedly could not figure most of them out.
His gaze landed on the small container Usopp had been working on before Sanji interrupted him. Upon closer inspection, the cook realized it was a small, handmade wooden box - longer than it was tall. It was made of at least two distinct kinds of wood, most likely scraps, but every plank had been wiped down and polished.
Large, Eastern runes had been carved on each side. They were carved deep, the symbols rounded at the edges in a script Sanji immediately recognized as Usopp’s writing style. He took a few steps closer, and leaned down to inspect the runes.
Growth
Fertility
Potential
Protection
Abundance
Renewal
And one final rune that Sanji had never seen before, that he roughly translated as-
To Bring Joy
Rising again, Sanji noticed that the container was filled with dark brown, loamy soil. A few sprouts broke through the surface with determination. Though only one was mature enough to have a set of true leaves.
It looked familiar to Sanji - ornate leaves, with a crenate pattern that reminded the cook of a lace doily. Carefully, he reached out to stroke the surface. Downy, despite the bright shine of the pale leaves.
That is when Sanji realized he had felt this texture before. Long, long ago. Just as the Northern snow began to melt, peaking through the frost-cloaked blades of grass. His short, pudgy fingers clumsily grasping at it. Running to his mother, who had accompanied him in a rare respite of her illness, and pulling on her skirt. Back then, he was still small enough - and her, strong enough - to be lifted in his mother’s arms and held to her chest. She took Sanji’s rosy fingers in her hands, encasing them in warmth.
Sanji turned to Usopp with a stunned expression. “Usopp, are those..?"
Usopp looked at Sanji from the corner of his eye, and nodded. Sanji turned back to the plant. He could feel a burning pressure grow behind his eyes. Involuntarily, Sanji let out a small gasp. Then, a trembling voice spoke out. “I’m sorry,”
Sanji’s mind went blank, he simply couldn’t understand what he was hearing. “What?” he spoke, just above a whisper.
“I’ve been trying for weeks but,” Usopp bit his lip, anxiously running his tongue over the thin scar that bisects his lower lip. “No matter what I do, they won’t bloom.” he said with his head hung low in shame. The sniper curled in on himself, as if the thought of his own failure was pressing down on him from above. Usopp didn’t notice as the hands that gripped his biceps tightened, even as his nails left crescent-shaped indents on the soft expanse of his skin.
“Usopp, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Sanji said with a tone so earnest, so sincere that Usopp was forced to look at the man.
Sanji’s feelings were laid bare on his svelte face. There, Usopp saw an honest amazement he had scarcely seen before - and never directed at his own person. It was not just the respect of a fellow adventurer that Sanji expressed, but the admiration of one who saw the hard work and dedication that Usopp put into every one of his inventions. Not many people had held him in so much esteem, and Usopp, admittedly, did not know how to respond.
A slender yet strong hand fell upon Usopp’s shoulder - a firm, grounding weight. “You are more than capable of doing things no one else can,” Sanji’s tone was serious, but not stern. Gentle, in his own gruff way. “I don’t know if espoir de l’impératrice can grow outside of the North, but I know that if anyone was to do such a thing, it would be you.”
It wasn’t something Usopp could have expected, for Sanji to feel gratitude for the simple act of trying - of undertaking this mission, completely unbidden, regardless of the fact that he was so likely to fail. But nonetheless, that gratitude fueled him like a forest to a flame.
Merry was eerily still. Her chest barely rising with each long, shallow breath. The moonlight illuminated her fur, giving her the appearance of a glowing apparition. The cool breeze that carried sea air through the streets of Water Seven tousled the nature golem’s fur. It reminded Sanji of another night, now months ago. One he had trouble keeping his mind off of.
But Sanji had little time for reminiscing.
He pressed his forehead to the curve of her giant muzzle. “Please, let me up. I must talk to him,” the blonde whispered. Merry didn’t respond, no light bleating or defiant snorts. The only answer to Sanji’s request was the swift unfurling of the rope ladder attached to her side. All the same, he whispered a quick thank you.
There was no need for a search, Sanji knew exactly where to find who he was looking for. He couldn’t explain, even to himself, why he spent so long wandering the winding halls of the Straw Hat’s dwelling. Straining his ears to hear the soft creak of the floorboards under his boots, feeling the dust gather in the fur on his tail. In his mind, Sanji imagined all of the ways this could go horribly wrong. Slowly, his worry chipped away at what little confidence he carried that night. The blonde shut his eyes tight and tried to will them away, but anxiety had overtaken his every thought. So instead, Sanji sighed and allowed the growing feeling of unease to carry him on his way.
Soon, he was in the doorway of Usopp’s workshop. The room was pitch black, save for the low light of the melting candles. Across the room stood the sniper, with his broad back turned to Sanji. “What are you doing here?” Usopp asked, without turning around. When he spoke, his words sounded hollow and detached. Distant, as if he were speaking to Sanji from another world entirely.
“Just… Checking up on things, long nose,” Sanji’s answer sounded unsure even to his own ears.
Usopp straightened, angling his body towards Sanji without facing him. In the darkness Sanji could only just make out the silhouette of his lips as he spoke. “‘Checking up on things’?”
A twisting feeling began to build in Sanji’s chest. A churning pit stuck behind his ribcage, that sent a wave of nausea rising up his throat. Like a stone the feeling sat heavy on his tongue, and he forced himself to swallow it back down.
“You don’t look so good-” Sanji began, but was interrupted by a sharp scoff.
“Is that why you’re here, Sanji? You want to see Luffy’s handiwork?” With a flourish Usopp spun around. He spread his arms wide, showing the cook the many scrapes and bruises littering his umber skin. Sanji’s focus was drawn to the sniper’s eyes, encircled by a smear of shiny purplish-black. Traces of blood were still visible above his lip and at the corners of his mouth.
But Sanji was used to the sight of such injuries. What really irked him was the frenzied gleam in Usopp’s amber eyes. Despite his efforts to remain stoic, Sanji’s ears twitched and lowered. Abruptly, Usopp’s arms fell slack against his sides. “I mean- Damn it, I don’t…” he stuttered through his words with a deep grimace on his face. “I didn’t mean that.”
Sanji sighed with a weariness that seemed misplaced in a soul so young. “Yeah. I know.”
The silence that followed was a fragile thing - teetering on the edge of unbearable. But neither man could muster an attempt to break it. Everything they wanted to say could not leave their thoughts. Yet, they could not stay apart. Their bodies slowly drifted towards one another, until they were standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the wooden planter.
Usopp could feel the heat of Sanji’s body through the soft silk of his bishop sleeves. Impulsively, the sniper wanted to reach out and tug on the billowing fabric. Instead, Usopp settled for shuffling closer to the other man.
Meanwhile, Sanji chose to focus his attention on the small leaves emerging from the soft soil in the planter. The long frilled leaves, usually a mild sage green, appeared like a sunset, bathed in candlelight. The sprouts were just a bit longer than the last time he had seen them, nearly full grown. Sanji could almost imagine what it would look like with more time to grow; With a full, pearly white flower blooming at the apex of the stem. Feathery petals cupped around a blush pink center, protecting the delicate stamen like the embrace of a mother. And a crown of long, thin outer petals, creating a glowing halo around the flower. Sanji had never seen another flower like it, and he was sure he never would.
Usopp had returned a hope Sanji hadn’t realized faded, hadn’t realized he wanted back. He turned to Usopp, finding that Usopp had already been looking at him. The sniper swiftly averted his eyes with a light blush dusting his cheeks.
“It doesn’t have to be like this.” Sanji suddenly spoke up.
Usopp's eyebrows knitted together, his head quirked to the side.“What?” he mumbled, barely loud enough for Sanji to hear.
“You could come back with me, to the others,” Sanji reached out and took Usopp’s hands in his. Without thinking he threaded their fingers together and pulled Usopp closer. “Or I could bring them here and-”
“No!” Usopp cried out, tearing himself out of Sanji’s hold. As he backed away from the blonde, his expression contorted into a dismayed shock. “I- You- How can you even suggest that?!” just as his volume rose to a shout, Usopp took a deep breath. His eyes seemed to search Sanji’s face for something; when he did not find it, he continued. “Luffy made his decision, and I made mine. There’s no going back on that.”
“I’m not asking you to go back on anything!” Sanji argued back.
Usopp shook his head, a loud groan rumbling in his throat. “It wouldn’t… They’re not going to welcome me back that easily.” Usopp’s hands raised to cradle his temple, pressing into the wrinkles of his furrowed brow. “And- and even if they did, that wouldn’t fix anything! Luffy, he- he wanted to abandon Merry! He wanted to abandon me!”
Sanji tried to approach the sniper, but Usopp backed away once again. “Nobody’s abandoning anybody! We can figure this out, just-”
“No! You aren’t listening, Sanji!”
“I-”
“Do you even care about Merry?! Huh?! She’s dying! She’s dying and everyone would rather leave her to rot than try to save her!” Usopp spat, bitterness and shame reflected into poisonous vitriol. Eyes burning bright with an outrage Sanji could not quell. It came from a place too personal, too raw. The deepest depths of the tangled mess in Usopp’s heart. The voluminous coils of his hair swelled and rippled, framing his face with an enraged mane.
“No, wait-”
“So we’re supposed to leave everything behind? What about all of the memories we have here? What about the flowers?”
“They don’t matter!” Sanji screamed like the words had been ripped from his throat. His eyes were wide and desperate, fixated on Usopp’s face. “None of it matters if you aren’t with me!” he gripped the fabric over his chest with a shaky hand. The only sounds were his deep, ragged breaths. For a second Sanji looked away, his ocean blue eyes searching for something in the tattered remains of the Merry.
“I… We want you back. Please, Usopp,” he pleaded. Usopp had never heard Sanji plead, not like this at least. A quiet, hopeless begging for something he knows will not happen. His sharp teeth were clenched tight like the sneer of a predator, but his eyes were so, so sad.
He looks like he’s in pain, Usopp thought belatedly.
The sniper wondered what he was supposed to do now. Some part of him wanted to run to Sanji, to be held in his warm embrace and never leave. That urge pulled at his chest and stole his breath away from him. Yet Usopp’s feet stayed planted where they were. He looked at the blonde with a blank, wide eyed stare.
“Usopp say something!” Sanji howled, words dripping with an insurmountable anguish.
“Get out.”
“Usopp, I-"
“I said get out!” Amber eyes sharpened, two daggers ready to attack. Every hair on Usopp’s body stood on its end. An ugly, wild thing took root in his spine - filling his lungs with a venomous rage.
When he came back to himself, Sanji was gone. Usopp was alone in the drafty workshop, the candles long since burned out. The crusty remains of tear tracks stuck to his cheeks and down his neck. In a stupor, Usopp turned to the flower. He gripped the edge of the container with a shaking hand. His entire body was trembling, his chest heaving with every breath. Cold and clammy fingers gripped a delicate, velvet leaf.
I can’t. It's so close… So close to blooming…
Usopp bit down on his knuckle and screamed.
Neither said a word, standing in the light of Merry’s dying body. Slowly disintegrating into a golden mist, like fireflies in the summer night sky.
They stood together. Existing, together. Surrounded by their fellow adventurers, but only feeling the presence of each other.
And no word was spoken, because no words were needed.
“I thought you would be in your workshop.”
Usopp jumped, his newly grown feathers flaring out in an instinctual display of surprise. He whirled around, fast enough to make his head spin. It’s been two years. Two years apart, two years of adventuring without the other beside them. Usopp could spend a millennium travelling the world, but he would always recognize that voice.
“Sanji,” Usopp spoke the name like a hymn, under his breath and overflowing with endearment. His chest ached with something foreign, the emotions that had built up over two years begging to be released and laid bare.
Sanji didn’t move, leaning against the entrance to the rebuilt workshop. He met Usopp’s gaze and smiled, the smile that tugged at one side of his mouth more than the other and flashed a row of gleaming pointed teeth. The smile that left Usopp feeling wistful on lonely nights, imagining the day he would see it again.
The cook looked different now. His hair longer, the fur on his tail fuller. None of it affected Usopp like he thought it would. In that moment there was no confusion or curiosity, just an overwhelming relief to be reunited.
“Wait!” Usopp suddenly crowed. He rushed to Sanji with a wide grin plastered on his face. “I need to show you something!” Before Sanji could respond, the sniper was dragging him across the room to a small set up placed in front of the only window in the room. A simple wooden planter, placed in a tray full of water. Water droplets fell from a bamboo channel that extended out of the window. “I didn’t get to show you this before, you know… I was honestly worried it wouldn’t be here, or that it would break down or… I mean, it wasn’t built to be left alone for this long!” Usopp rambled on with excitement. “Its a pretty crude irrigation system, but-”
“Long nose,” Sanji looked away from the flowers, now as tall as Chopper with one or two small buds. He leaned closer to Usopp, and seemed to hesitate. His mouth opened, but no words were said.
Then Sanji surged forward, capturing Usopp in a tight embrace. Usopp tensed as a shudder traveled up his spine into the taut muscles in his shoulders. Slowly, his arms wrapped around Sanji’s waist, calloused hands grasping at the cook’s shirt. Long blonde locks fell around Usopp’s face, smelling like a mix of flowers and smoke. A long tail loosely curled around his leg. Usopp allowed himself to be held in tender warmth, while fighting against the urge to snuggle closer.
Then the blonde pulled away. He gazed down at Usopp through his lashes, and cautiously reached for the sniper’s cheek. Usopp could feel his heartrate pick up at an alarming rate - threatening to beat right out of his chest if he let it. His head spun trying to catalogue every little detail of Sanji’s touch. How the flesh of his palm was hard, yet smooth. Unbelievably smooth and perfect, with just a small knick on his thumb.
Sanji angled Usopp’s face upwards. His gaze softened, and Usopp’s lips were caught in a firm kiss. Usopp’s eyes fluttered close. He found his hands climbing to Sanji’s shoulders, tangling themselves in his hair. Wildfire replaced the red blood in his veins. Sanji tilted his head, and their lips slotted together like waves crashing against the shore.
Their hot breath mingled between them as they withdrew. Foreheads pressed together, hands still roaming. Sanji hummed, sending vibrations to Usopp’s flushed skin. “I knew you could do it.”
And Usopp murmured a response. “You did, you really did…”