Archive of Our Own ^beta

On a quiet, sunny morning, past the salt in the sea breeze and the cloying dryness of the aged sun, Blackleg Sanji watched as the All Blue rumbled to life underneath the Baratie's feet.

Years of sailing among the worst disciplined men in his life had taught him the rhythm of life across a pirate ship. The thumping feet of hurried walking, the shouts of men fixing a sail. It's a dance that Sanji has learned to appreciate time and time again, even if it's not Luffy's cries for food or Chopper's delighted giggling hooved clops.

"They're too excited," he murmured under his breath as one of his chefs slip across the shiny wooden deck of the main dining area. He'd been staring at his clipboard for hours now, making sure everything he'd jotted down the night before was already done for the busy day they'll be having.

"They could be worse. You're worrying over nothing," his father huffed from behind him.

The Baratie was largely like itself when Zeff sailed it to the All Blue with the help of the Thousand Sunny. The large fishhead-shaped bar and its grandiose inside dining area remained intact for the journey, unshaken by the piss-poor attempts of pirates and marines alike to take it down. Not that it mattered, really, considering the Baratie's popularity (and the Straw Hats' reputation) across the Blues was enough to call off any further attacks.

Zeff's lounging by a table near the doors to the kitchen, hot coffee and a bacon and egg sandwich laid out in front of him. There's butter, scones, and a bowl of fried breakfast salad sitting alongside it—Zeff's half-eaten and Sanji's untouched.

"Sit down and eat, eggplant," he could hear the scrape of a butter knife across bread.

Sanji's thoughtless in the sense that he's thinking of far too important things to find value in Zeff's. He's muttering to himself, eyes focused on the chandelier hanging above them, while he counted the appetizers from his memory of what's on the kitchen counter. "Did we prepare the tomatoes? Or…"

"Sanji, we do not waste food under my roof and you will not start now." There's a finality in his voice that stirred Sanji from his daze. There's no real bite under it; Sanji would be a fool to not respect the rules his father instilled in him.

"This place is my roof now, old man. Not yours," he rolled his eyes and took his seat.

It's weird to look at Zeff now when years had passed of not seeing each other. He's mostly the same despite the wrinkles that grow deeper every passing day. There's gray streaking through his beard, a softness to his once-clenched jaw, a growing stiffness to his gait. Sanji recognized he's not getting younger and this stint in the All Blue was more of a retirement plan than any real job commandeering Sanji's staff.

"You've been checking that damned list the moment you woke up. Everything is ready, so you can stop worrying."

As if that ever stopped him before. He will do as he damn well pleased. But it wasn't even the kitchen or the ship that Sanji was worried about. It's the guest list.

While Sanji's grateful for meeting plenty of friends along the way, there's simply too many of them. The moment Luffy caught wind of Baratie's opening from Sanji's call with Nami, he'd began inviting every person they met in their travels to come join in the festivities. Which called for a big guest list. One that, ultimately, Sanji was not sure he's prepared for.

"Run me through the guest list again then, if you're so worried," Zeff's on his last bite of the sandwich.

So, to ease his mind, he did. Salad be damned.

The Nefertaris had already set sail a while ago according to the missive Vivi sent. They'd written immediately. It won't be long until they arrive. The same goes for Princess Shirahoshi and her family from the Ryugu Kingdom, as well as the royal family from Dressrosa. He didn't think they'd be coming considering all the work being put to the kingdom's resurfacing, but the princess insisted in her letter that they'd be attending. Sanji would not dare turn her away.

The Grand Fleet was only hours away from arriving with the minks that could leave Zou. Members of the Galley Law were also on their way as a formal expedition to check if they can plant rails to the All Blue. And, of course, the members of Kamabakka Kingdom were on their way in what most likely would be a fleet of pink ships, with Ivankov at its helm. An endless list of other folks—friends from Whole Cake, Sabaody, and even Impel Down—had promised their attendance.

"Nami-san's on the way with the Sunny. Luffy and Jinbei are with her and they went to get Usopp and darling Kaya from Syrup Village. Franky, Chopper, and Robin-chan should be here anytime soon; they went on a trip to Little Garden," Sanji listed off. "And Brook's passing by before the next stop on his tour."

"Is that all?"

Sanji's not stupid. He likes to think it's one of his best features actually. He's dependable in the sense that he might act like a fool, but was aware of his surroundings; of his standing. And with that came the knowledge that he knew the lilt in Zeff's voice. The waning attempt at seeming casual.

Teeth gritting, he slammed the clipboard on the breakfast table with a resounding thwack. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Don't wave your clipboard at me, boy," Zeff yawped with a warning tone. "I'm only asking if that's all of the people we're expected to feed. It's a party, for the Blues' sake!"

Sanji leveled him with a look, seconds away from blowing a fuse. "I don't know where he is."

"Who?"

"You know who."

"Your crew will be here. Your captain most likely found a way to let him know they're all going to be here."

"Please," Sanji snorted. "That idiot wouldn't know what to board or how to get here. I don't even know where he ended up. He could be at the bottom of Impel Down for all I care."

The lies tasted like ash on his tongue. As if he'd bitten down on the burnt side of his cigarette from his morning smoke.

The world functioned on universal truths. The sea was blue, the sun was a ball of fire, and Sanji was not stupid—he knew where Zoro had been for the past three months through a series of carefully collected news clippings from the morning paper that he'd read before he started the day. It always dropped on his balcony some time in the crack of dawn, so no one would know he was reading the paper and keeping track. He'd reasoned that he did it for everyone—like how he'd read that Franky stopped by Ryugu Kingdom before journeying to the Baratie to help with their new island pier.

Zoro was in the West Blue, last he heard. Off fighting swordsmen and former enemies, it looked like, seeking the thrill of blood on his blade and alcohol in his system. Some of the sailors that passed by the restaurant briefly mentioned seeing him with Mihawk a month ago. Some days it was Perona. Quick little visits that Sanji could chalk up as him appeasing his mentor. Kuraigana was somewhere along the Grandline.

It's the kind of life that Sanji expected him to live, even if he was led to believe it could be changed even just for a moment.

"Getting lost has never stopped that cabbage from finding his way back," His mind quieted at the sound of Zeff's sensibilities. "If being geographically challenged still leads him back home, then I can't imagine anything else will stop him."

Sanji scoffed. Paused. Then, he turned to look at the window where the sun made the night sky jealous with how the sea sparkled under its gaze. "He'll come if he feels like seeing us."

Neither broke the silence that passed as they finished breakfast.

i. there ain't a drop of bad blood

Gin

The first of their visitors made himself known right before lunchtime. The wear and tear of years passed did not shred the lining of Gin's tracksuit nor the familiarity of which Sanji greeted him. His eyes looked wiser, framed by wrinkles despite never losing the exhaustion in his frame. But he looked healthier than when Sanji first met him, so it meant he'd seen happier days since.

"Blackleg," he greeted Sanji warmly from a distance. The cook tucked an arm around his waist.

"Gin! How've you been?"

Gin was red-faced as Sanji pulled away. He'd been halfway towards laying a palm on his forehead when Gin cleared his throat.

"I've been well," Gin smiled at him, nervously. "Took a boat passing through here safely enough."

"I'm glad," Sanji sighed. "Now, tell me what you've been up to."

Sanji whisked Gin away for a quick tour of the restaurant. In the distance, he could see boats and ships approaching the docks and folks of all sorts milling around. He explained as much as he could without interrupting Gin's stories.

He told the cook about living a much more humble life on the seas with Don Krieg. He detailed what it was like on Pirate Island and had plenty to say about the philosophies of piracy and success. Sanji knew the island mostly as Blackbeard's base, but that was the extent of it. So, Gin's life was a whole other world to him.

"How about you, Blackleg?" They were standing by the rails of the fishhead bar, overlooking the sea. One of the bartenders kindly offered them a drink, of which they decided to nurse by the lapping waters. "What's life been like on the All Blue?"

It flashed before him in blurry colors than full memories. Weeks spent in the All Blue trying to fix the ship up for customers. Days in colorful markets with the captain's right-hand man, treating him like a pack mule so they'd get ingredients to the restaurant without a scuffle. Then, he'd come home with him—a long day on their feet and the warmth of the sun on their skin—and share a bottle before they split ways and head to bed.

This was the routine Sanji familiarized himself with over the course of a couple months with Zoro. Months where he didn't even know why he was staying with him in the first place.

And he'd been gone since then.

"It's been wonderful," Sanji answered. He smiled at Gin. It didn't reach the apples of his cheeks, but it was genuine enough. "Like a dream come true, really."

"It sounds like you guys are kept busy around here," the pirate's musing behind the rim of his glass.

Sanji shrugged, stretching his arm. "It's alright. Got plenty of people to shuffle around when things get hectic."

The staff was largely comprised of the original cooks from the Baratie. Ones whose loyalty were sworn to Zeff—and Sanji, by consequence—all those years ago. They were more than just chefs in the kitchen he grew up in; they were family.

That didn't stop Sanji from onboarding new staff, however. Mostly men of all ages, the boys were tasked to do all the waiting and bussing, while older folks were ushered into the heat of the kitchen. There were a few old ladies working with them, most of which were employed since they'd been working with their husbands in nautical kitchens for a long, long time.

Even then, Sanji left tasks for him to do himself. Normally, this was buying ingredients at the market, fixing the menu, doing the inventory every night. His job was to make sure everything flowed together well, so the cooks could keep working peacefully. Sometimes, the itch to cook would embed itself in the palms of his hands. So, Sanji would squirrel away in the dead of night to satisfy the craving.

It'd been a long, arduous few months ensuring the restaurant was in tip-top shape for the grand opening. Now, the preparations were over.

"If there's any way I can help, then please just let me know."

Sanji couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm touched. But do you even know your way around a kitchen, Gin?"

"I'm a good student if need be. Don't worry," Gin started. Sanji's chuckle evolved into a full-bellied laugh.

"They all say that until I have 'em washing dishes in the back."

"I've been told I'm good at trying." This time, Gin sounded earnest. Though, Sanji supposed that Gin had always been earnest in everything he did. It's what sowed guilt in the creases of his mind after Sanji fed him all those years ago. The same earnestness that never allowed Sanji to think of him as an enemy.

He's looking straight at Sanji's eyes. It flustered him for some reason. Sanji didn't understand the weight of it at all, but it begged to be carried and he wasn't sure if he could. "If you'll have me."

Sanji cleared his throat. Tried to put on the charm that he'd polished over years of waiting tables and serving customers, both in the highs of the Baratie at the age of sixteen and the lows of serving criminals onboard the Merry and Sunny.

"The ship is full," he replied, lamely. "But you're always welcome to visit me here, Gin."

If his words bothered him, Gin didn't let him know.

Gin excused himself eventually to check on the merchant he'd sailed with. He walked off, leaving Sanji to his own devices. He headed back in immediately. Less time working meant more time for his brain to wander.

Then, it was past lunchtime when he saw it. Fog rarely rolled across the All Blue, so the sight of it was clear in this perfect sunny day. The Sunny's head broke through the limitless blue sky, clouds parting as if to make way for the king's journey, and the blot of red in the distance (and the endless screaming) was enough indication that Monkey D. Luffy had arrived.

Sanji's smile was bright—he couldn't help it, sue him!—and he was already walking towards the dock to welcome them back.

It's not until the Sunny was closer that he saw the familiar orange head of their lovely navigator, hair flowing in the sky… and right across from her, in a dark green coat, was someone Sanji thought he wouldn't see in a while.

Zoro's back was turned to him, facing the wind.

ii. i swear, i was scared to death

Ace

Sanji knew the sound of those boots anywhere. It's the same leather that padded across the Baratie's wooden floors for how many months before its eventual disappearance. The cadence was all the same, as well as the way he carried himself as if he never left in the first place.

Don't get him wrong; he's mad. Very mad. He'd imagined this day a hundred times over since Zoro disappeared six months ago. He knew he'd see him again no matter what, because one demand from Luffy and he'd come running back to him each time. That's simply how they were all made to be. Even before he became King of the Pirates.

Nevertheless, a hundred timelines of their reunion had flitted across the planes of Sanji's mind. He'd heard every imaginary excuse he could dream of. Thought of every falling out they could have. Zoro's face blurred in his mind in these confrontations. He could barely remember if he looked at him in these dream interactions at all. Still, none of them prepared him for when he actually saw him again for the first time in six months.

"Sanji!" Luffy's ricocheting off the wooden pillar at the front of the dining area, stretchy arms and legs wrapping around his torso before his entire body slammed into him.

He's yanked out of place. In the air for seconds before his back met the wall with a loud crack and Nami's sweet voice caressed his dizziness with the angry tone he'd come to associate with her fondness.

"It's good to see you, captain," he groaned out as Luffy unwrapped himself around the cook.

"Sanji, I've missed you." Luffy's honest and giggling, starry-eyed like always. "Food?"

"In the kitchen," Sanji let out a chuckle. "Go sit down and I'll have it served immediately."

The captain hopped towards the closest table, Nami quick on his heels after hugging Sanji. Then, Zoro passed, with no acknowledgement, just boots on wood and the clatter of sheaths as he sat down without removing them.

"I'll be back, my sweet," he blew a kiss in Nami's direction. Good naturedly, Nami laughed it off. Then, Sanji's whisked back into the kitchen to fetch their food and drinks.

The kitchen's bustling with preparations. The visitors were slowly arriving and he'd be damned that they don't have at least a snack before the event began. On the service counter laid gargantuan pieces of seaking meat, cooked to ruddy perfection.

Patty's perfectly gelled hair sprung from the corner of his eye with a discerning look. "Is he there?"

"Is who there?" He repeated, coyly.

The man gave Sanji a proper stink eye, jutting his chin in the direction of the door.

Sanji sighed. "Yes, he is. Whatever."

He hated that the Zoro problem had become a Baratie problem. People who've known him for longer knew things they shouldn't about Sanji's escapades with the swordsman. It was an unspoken thing aboard the Sunny, but ever since he decided to stay behind with Sanji on this ship, it had become more tangible. Defined. At least, Sanji thought so. But he never really realized how much he took his own privacy for granted until then, when he caught Patty and Carne eavesdropping while he smoked outside where Zoro usually napped.

Zeff made a point to let everyone know not to make a big fuss over it. Sanji didn't know if he was thankful or annoyed by it. Nevertheless, it was blissful ignorance for the few months that Sanji finally accepted there was something between them and did something about it (kind of).

He's exiting the kitchen with a tray full of food and a distinct order from one of the youngins to "keep it coming." The moment he'd set down the first meals in front of them alongside their drinks, he sat down next to Nami to join them.

"So," Sanji watched them dig in. "How goes the adventuring?"

The group launched into stories of revisiting different islands. A particular trip back on Skypiea was being told and they provided him with an update on Conis' well-being. They were just arriving when Chopper, Franky, and Robin were meant to leave, so they stayed on the island for two more days to catch up before splitting off. Amongst the conversations, Zoro spared Sanji the sanity of not speaking.

"Sunsets up in Skypiea really are like nothing else," Nami sighed, swishing her drink around its glass. "We should go on a vacation there someday. Stay for a week or so."

"I agree!" Luffy exclaimed around a mouthful of meat. He swallowed harshly at Sanji's admonishing glare, though he's sure it mostly went unnoticed. "You guys should take a break. It'd be nice to have the crew all together again."

"The restaurant's just about to open," Sanji rolled his eyes, fondly. "Cut me some slack. Maybe in a few months, Luffy."

When Nami declared she'd like to get some rest before the party began, Sanji stood up to escort them back on the Sunny. Maybe say hello to it since it'd been a while.

"Oh, wait!" His captain suddenly stood up, rattling the dishware on the table. He had a palm on the crown of his straw hat to take it off before fiddling with the red ribbon sewn around its body. His fingers came away with a folded photograph pinched between them, creased to all heavens.

He's handing it to Sanji before he could process what it was. Unfolding it, Sanji's eyes widened at the sight of Ace's face. It'd been a while since he'd seen a photo of him, even less of this particular picture. It's of him from more than two years ago, seemingly talking to someone beside him that was cropped out by the camera.

"Ace always loved your food. I figured he should be here for the opening too," Luffy explained, as if he didn't crush Sanji's chest with a sea king.

It'd been years since he'd thought of Ace. Not that they were truly a special pair—Ace was never around long enough for them to squabble about anything serious—but Sanji had only put two and two together when they first met. He'd always been repulsed by men, considering he grew up in a home that flaunted their masculine prowess. But he'd never understood the half of that disgust until Ace taught him men could be equally gentle if given the chance.

When Ace kissed him under the dim lights of the Merry's kitchen, he felt seen for the very first time.

It wasn't love, per say. God forbid Sanji threw his heart away one more time. But it was something so close to it, Sanji would have imagined a lifetime with Ace if they went anywhere serious. That didn't mean his death was easy to shrug off. The Kamabakka Kingdom was probably the best place to mourn that grief when he heard about Marineford.

"Thanks, Luffy." He hoped he sounded genuine enough for Luffy to know his appreciation, but not too much that the others would pick up the depth of it.

Whether or not his captain got the message though was left unanswered. Luffy had simply smiled at him and ushered Zoro out of his seat to accompany him back to the ship. Sanji tucked the photo into his breast pocket and tried to keep his attention on collecting dishes instead of the swordsman's lingering gaze.

He'd stacked dishes on top of one another when his angel came up behind him. "We found him in a vineyard on some random island," she said in a tone that suggested she was bored. But if renowned navigator Cat Burglar Nami was asking him, then it was far from boredom. "He still wouldn't tell me what happened for him to get kicked out of here."

"I didn't kick him out, my sweet. He went on his own." He had his hands full with the tray of dishes when he faced her.

She's frowning up at him, knowing. "Sanji," Nami sighed. "I don't know what happened, but whatever it is, he seemed pretty bummed out."

"Well, that makes the two of us," Sanji deadpanned. "I don't know either. So, whatever he's feeling right now, I have no clue about."

"Can't you just talk to him or something?"

Sanji wanted to be angry. It's not Nami's fault at all, but he wants an excuse to lash out. Why should he be the one to reach out when he was the one who left without a word in the first place? He doesn't, because she doesn't deserve that, though he's nearly there.

Instead, he sighed. Loudly. "Nami-san, just leave it alone. If mosshead doesn't want to talk, then he won't. That's just how it is and you know it."

"He's always good at talking to you, though." She's following him towards the kitchen and Sanji could practically hear the frown in her voice.

"Complaining," he corrected, "not talking."

"Right. Sure. Sanji," Nami stepped in his way right before he was meant to disappear behind the kitchen doors. There's a wrinkle in her brow and exhaustion in the creases of her eyes. "I know you guys never talk. And I know you will never tell me what happened. But can't you try, at the very least? For Luffy, if not for him or me. Before he figures out you guys aren't friendly right now."

Sanji had an inkling the captain already knew. Luffy always had a sixth sense for trouble in paradise. He always had his own weird way of fixing the crew's more personal problems. It often worked out for them, but outside of Sanji's family trouble, Luffy never had any problems with him and Zoro. They were his wings, after all. Being at odds with one another and getting caught in a tiff was one thing. Still, they had an unspoken agreement to never let it bleed into the crew's worries. It was theirs and theirs alone.

So, this was a new thing. Someone stepping in. Someone asking him to talk to Zoro. Did that mean this was worse than Sanji thought? Well, shit. Maybe he really should talk to him.

"I'll see what I can do," he relented. Because it's Nami asking—there's no other reason!

Her smile brightened. It's the highlight of the afternoon. She squeezed his arm as she passed to leave.

"Let's catch up soon, alright? I'll go back to the Sunny and wait for Vivi to arrive. She should be here soon."

"Tell the princess I said hello, my darling," Sanji bid her a goodbye, and she was off.

When Sanji reentered the kitchen, Patty's standing by the service counter with a terribly hidden curiosity displayed clearly on his face.

"So?"

"Do we have a picture frame I could borrow?" Sanji asked instead.

iii. now i know your name, but not who you are

Viola

Viola arrived briskly, almost at the same time as the Nefertaris, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. There's no room to blush, she moved on just as quickly as it came.

"How was the trip, my dear?" Sanji asked, lovelorn.

"Exhausting," she replied with a laugh, "but riveting. If I'd known the gems you'd find out at sea, I would have come with you like you asked, mi amor."

It's a lie, but Sanji didn't mind. Nothing could ever pry Viola from her family and Sanji had quickly accepted that the first time she'd rejected his proposal to leave Dressrosa with him. (Not that the string of events that came after was any indication of their romantic getaway failing.)

"I'd have given you a full tour if you wished," Sanji laughed with her as he walked her across the dock.

Even after rejection, Sanji's relationship with Viola had always been like this. Full of flirtations and teasing and dancing—Sanji knew the limits of her affections. The responsibilities she'd learned to put first before anything else. He could play along because he understood them. And with his feelings about a certain green-haired man growing as the sun sank and rose, Viola was never a "missed opportunity." She was simply a friend.

"I don't mind the letters though," she hummed. "The way you describe this place was beautiful. I'm so glad I'm seeing it for myself."

The sea was twinkling underneath them. The sun setting in the horizon, skies as clear as it was this morning. Sanji liked to think the All Blue wanted to show off after decades of hiding. Pride leaked from his chest like a faucet unable to close.

"I spy with my little eye," Viola glanced backwards, a giggle stuck to her throat, "a man that you said wasn't on the Baratie for six months. I assume you have reconciled?"

"He hasn't said a word to me and I'm worried I'll cuss him out," Sanji admitted.

"You do that every other day, darling."

"Nami-san told me to talk to him. I don't think calling him a piece of shit will do me any favors."

He'd been writing letters to Viola after everything that happened in Wano. Small ones addressed to Dressrosa, in hopes of winning back her affections. Eventually, it evolved to simple stories about everyday life. He'd try to let her know where she could send her reply, but even then, it was hard to keep track. Life as a pirate warranted careful lodgings. He often wrote to her as his old moniker, Prince, and she Violet.

When the adventure was over and Luffy left him and Zoro onboard the Baratie, he'd slipped and told her about life with Zoro. Small things like what he cooked for dinner or that they went fishing. When Zoro eventually left without a word, the unexplainable grief was written in those same letters. Viola was kind. She held his hand through it all despite being miles away.

They stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the main entrance of the restaurant. He's looking out at sea with Viola, the colors of the sky painting them orange and violet.

"I don't know what to do," was his second confession to her.

Her palm was pressed onto his cheek. She's smiling so lovingly at him and Sanji wondered why he didn't chase after her instead of falling for a buffoon. "Talk to him. Nami's right."

He's shaking his head before he could even form the words. Then, Viola's brushing the hair away from his right eye and stroking right under his eye. He felt overwhelmed. Like he dunked his head into the sea to clear his head; like he's here, again, in the water, because Luffy fell off the Sunny. "Sanji."

"What do I do when he doesn't want me?"

"Ridiculous. Truly, we need to work on what the Vinsmokes have told you all these years," she scoffed. "There will always be someone who loves and wants you, mi amor. If it's not him, then you just need to look around a little more."

Sanji smiled at her words. He's not quite sure how much of it he believed. That didn't matter at the end of the day. He knew he would have her support regardless.

"We should probably head inside," he said. He grasped her elbow to turn her towards the stairs. "Get you somewhere warm before the party began."

"Alright."

As they move to leave, he looked over her head and saw the man of the hour. His hair was shining under the glare of the sinking sun. He looked kind of silly standing on the rails of the Sunny that it didn't even register to him that he's looking at Sanji.

What do you want? Why are you here? Sanji wanted to scream. Zoro was looking back at Chopper and Jinbei—who'd arrived nearly at the same time an hour ago—before the words coagulated on his tongue.

iv. stole the word from my tongue

Pudding

No matter how many times they talked, Sanji will never know how to approach Pudding.

He was surprised that she even showed up, knowing the terrible territory war going on in Whole Cake Island. He'd rather not touch that mess. Chiffon and Bege had surprised him with her arrival and Sanji's none the wiser.

He's thankful, still, and feeling overly apologetic with how things were like between them. Not for leaving her unmarried, just simply because she got dragged into his problems. If giving her a luxurious dining experience could make up for a thousand of his mistakes, then perhaps this was the right moment to see her again.

The party's already in full swing when he finally got to talk to her. He'd fought over the scissor during the ribbon-cutting with Zeff, but that was something that happened daily without fail. A man gives his restaurant over to his son before he keels over, you're bound to have a fistfight in front of the clientele, he supposed.

Afterwards, everyone was ushered inside to eat a five-course meal. It's a lot, Sanji quickly learned. It came with the business though, so he's not surprised.

The kitchen door opens and closes every few seconds. A stream of waiters with plates served to their guests was coming through. Sanji barely sat down so he could go around to talk to the guests. He reminisced the best of their adventures together and accepted their compliments and glad tidings for the Baratie. The night was winding down to the final course—a glass bowl of light vanilla ice cream he'd learned from one of the summer islands they passed before settling in the All Blue.

When he arrived at Bege's table, he saw the difference immediately. Pudding's third eye was out for the Blues to see and he smiled at the sight of it.

"I'm so glad you're here, Pudding-chan. It's been a while since we saw one another," he placed their bowls in front of them, including a smaller one for Chiffon's son. Pez gurgled happily.

He stood there awkwardly as she turned red without another word. He waited if she would say anything, but she only nodded.

"I hope the food was to your liking," Sanji continued. "I–"

"It was fine," Pudding blurted out. If she could turn even redder, she would've looked like a tomato in the marketplace.

"Oh! Uh, that's great."

"You two are pathetic," Bege cut in. Was Sanji red? Ah, shit.

"Bege!"

"It needs to be said. They're painful to watch." He'd replaced his cigar between his teeth with a roll of his eyes. "You lot should talk it out somewhere where people won't hear you fumbling through your words."

Sanji blinked because, whoa, there's a lot to unpack there, he thought.

"Shut up, Bege," Pudding gritted her teeth, all three eyes glaring at her brother-in-law.

"I mean, I could give you a tour," Sanji chuckled. "As a chocolatier, perhaps you would like to look at the kitchens. I know I'm not a dessert chef so it's probably nothing as wonderful as your kitchen, but I don't mind showing it to you."

He barely heard her agree to it. Honestly, if Chiffon didn't repeat it, he would've thought he was ignored. He's proven wrong when, after chatting with Bege and Chiffon for a few minutes longer, the party began to disperse across the rest of the Baratie's grounds and the kitchen slowed down its manic state. Sanji found the opportunity to slip in undisturbed with Pudding at his heels, and he hoped to the heavens and trenches that she could hear his chattering above the noise.

When they enter, he pointedly ignored Patty and Carne as they looked their way. He led Pudding through his little kingdom of stainless steel and marble countertops where, in the very back, was a station of large metal refrigerators and industrial cooling racks. Emma, a gifted patissier in her sixties, was stationed there, wiping drops of vanilla from the countertop.

"Pudding, this is Emma," Sanji gestured towards the woman with graying hair and smile lines across her cheeks. "She is my patissier."

Sanji watched them exchange pleasantries before Emma excused herself with the last batch of desserts.

"I better get this to your captain," Emma said. "Or he might barge in."

He's left all alone with Pudding for all of five seconds and it's reminiscent of all the times on Whole Cake Island where he'd try to start a conversation. He never knew where to begin or how to keep it going, so he often let things pass, even if she'd say something incredibly mean. Something inside his brain told him that none of it was true.

"Your kitchen is lovely." It was Pudding's first words to him. At least, ones that he could hear clearly.

"It's incomparable to yours, surely," Sanji replied. "It's a small one, but I'm thinking of making it bigger later on. Once we have more staff around to try and whisk a few pastries together for the menu."

She shook her head, shy as ever. "I'm sure your bakers are having a wonderful time here because of your consideration… Not that I care or anything."

"Well, I try."

Conversation lulled between them. As usual. He turned towards the other side of the room, suspiciously devoid of half of its chefs at the wake of the party's end, and stepped aside to wave her over.

"I can show you the rest of the kitchen, if you'd like—"

"Sanji," Pudding interrupted. Her cheeks were red as ever, yet a determined expression was visible on her face. "I have something to tell you."

"Of course, Pudding-chan, what is it?"

Pudding's eyes widened. She's looking up at him, the very picture of courage. Though, Sanji didn't know what courage she needed to be here with him when he'd all but opened the doors for her welcome. If she was scared of him, then he should address it, no?

She took a deep breath. "I—"

"Hey, cook."

Sanji's ears were ringing. Or the room was? He's not entirely positive which one it was. But his ears were ringing and Pudding looked like a blur of vaguely rounded colors in front of him as he zoned in on Zoro's voice behind him. It's the first thing he'd said to him in six months.

"What?" He let out a breath. He's gritting his teeth, he thinks.

"Let's talk. Outside." Then, he left.

The kitchen was silent.

"I-I think you should get to that first," Pudding exclaimed. "We can talk later."

Sanji's going to kill him.

v. you said, "i'll never let you go" (you got all my love)

Zoro

As soon as Pudding passed through the kitchen doors, Sanji wanted to throw a fit.

He didn't care if the rest of the goddamn staff saw him at this point, he thinks he deserved to throw one hissy fit from the audacity that a man could enter his home like he owned it and demand his presence.

"I'm going to kill him," he hissed. He could feel his leg burning already.

"Maybe not do that," Patty's by his side already. "He probably just wants to apologize."

"Apologize? When has he ever done that? Zoro doesn't apologize. And since when were you rooting for the enemy?"

"He's not your enemy, he's your nakama." Zeff's towering chef's hat casted a shadow over him as he approached.

"Not you too," Sanji scoffed. "I'm your son!"

"And you're being stupid."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Zeff barked. "Any man that walked into this damn restaurant could see you sulking from across the All Blue. He was shitty. You were hurt. Now you can mend it."

Sanji hated this. Why were they fighting him over this? What was there to fight about? He's more hurt than that dickhead ever would be! "Yeah? And what if I don't want to mend it?"

"Oh, don't be foolish, boy!" His father huffed with a twitch of his mustache.

"You don't know what you're talking about, old man."

"Eggplant, I've been on the seas for how many years, and have dealt with human nature for much longer!" He rumbled on, voice warbling louder than before. "You refuse to see it around you, but there are people out there who, if you asked, would be happy to settle down and be your bride. Or groom. Or whichever you fancy."

"You don't know that—"

"The problem here isn't that you don't know," Zeff scoffed, "it's that none of them is who you want."

"And who exactly do I want?"

He leaned in, eyes squinting, all-seeing. Sanji could feel his heart thumping loudly inside his ribcage. "You and I both know there is one man you've got your eye on who has been on this boat longer than the rest of your guests," he whispered. "And it is not Miss Pudding, seas bless her soul."

"He doesn't want that."

"And if I bet on his grassy little head, would you win then?"

Sanji stared at him in disbelief. "That's a losing bet."

He shrugged. "You sure?"

He doesn't dignify him with a response. So, Sanji did what he thought he might never be able to do.

When Sanji stepped out of the kitchen, ready to give the swordsman a piece of his mind, he found Zoro out there already with a broom. The dining room was empty. They've probably taken the party to the bar. Zoro's sweeping trash across the wooden floor, his three swords leaning by the wall, and Sanji falls in love all over again.

"Oh, you're actually here."

Zoro grunted, his back facing Sanji. Typical.

"So, what are we meant to talk about?" Sanji closed the distance between them step by step. He could hear the music and laughter raging on at the opposite side of the restaurant. He thought he heard something break—the sound of porcelain over wood—and chalked it up to the ale finding parched throats.

Sanji's aware that Zoro was never good at talking. Not that you couldn't wrench an emotion or two out of him, just that he's disciplined in all forms and he never could find the words to piece it together for anyone. That being said, months in the All Blue taught him a few tricks regarding Roronoa Zoro.

He could speak about it if they went in his pace. He had plenty to say when the words find him. It'd always been Sanji's ire that stopped him from completing his thought. That was something Sanji's attempting to work on for himself.

But above all else, Zoro could be gentle. He always said this before: that a true swordsman knew how to wield a sword to cut or simply touch something. It was only a weapon when wielded as such. He could brush a palm frond with it and not cut a single stem.

So, when Sanji's anger had been long gone and the confetti was scrounged up into a pile, the cook wasn't too surprised by the words that rumbled through Zoro's chest.

"I'm sorry."

Timelines. Instances. Situations. Imagined interactions. Sanji found himself at the forefront of all those envisioned rejections. They fell flat at the face of what he knew was the real Zoro.

"Can you say that while looking at me or am I supposed to talk to your back this whole time?"

Zoro clicked his tongue. He placed the broom against the table near him and faced Sanji. Properly. For the first time in six months.

And he's so close.

"You owe me an explanation." He's too close. Sanji's eyes were fluttering shut at the feel of Zoro's breath on his cheek.

"For what?"

"You ran away," Sanji murmured. "The moment things got hard, you left."

He could hear Zoro's teeth click, his jaw clenched. "I'm sorry. I… heard something I shouldn't have believed and left."

"What?" He gave him an incredulous look. Confused, he pulled away.

"She visited," Zoro sighed. "The girl from the kitchen earlier. She came here months ago to see you. Said you were his bride."

He didn't know she visited the Baratie. This was the first time he'd seen her since her mother's huge meltdown on Whole Cake. He wasn't alerted that she'd come to see him.

"Pudding-chan?"

Zoro grimaced at her name.

"That was from way back with my shitty father, mosshead. I was marrying her so he wouldn't kill my actual family."

"I know."

"Do you?"

"I know now."

Sanji scoffed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What even got you the impression that I'd want to marry her?"

"I don't know. You've always been a little… crazy with women, love-cook."

He shouldn't be as endeared by the nickname really. Unfortunately, he was. "So, what? You decided to leave me behind because of it? We couldn't talk about it?"

"I didn't want to overstep," Zoro rolled his eyes. "I wasn't sure if I was misreading what we had."

"We could've talked."

His stare felt pointed. "Right. 'Cus that always went over well."

"Zoro, I did everything with you."

"That's not enough, cook, I—"

"We had dinner together without fail. I brought you sake from the market every other week. I put a sword rack in my room for you."

"Yeah, but that's not—"

"Oh, for crying out loud, marimo, we've made out in the pantry how many times already!" He yelled in frustration.

"Okay, maybe not announce that." Zoro slapped his palm over Sanji's mouth. He watched his eyes circle the room before letting go. “It’s hard. You don’t realize it, but everyone loves you, cook. And they’d all be pretty damn lucky to have you by their side. Hell, they’d fit you like a glove. A cook, a princess—just someone devoted to you. All I have is iron and steel, and even then, I’m not sure if there’s anything else I have left to give. It’s a lot. And it’s the first time it felt like I should run away.”

The silence that followed was palpable. He could practically taste the electricity in the air. He doesn't want to miss his chance. He won't.

"I want this. Us. Not anyone else," Sanji began. "Whatever we had before, I want it and ten times more. I know I've been the coward most of my life—I always had one foot out the door in situations like this. And I'm not very good at love. But if it's what you want to, then maybe," he inhaled, not wanting the overwhelming feeling to pester his vision with tears, "maybe we can have it, Zoro. Maybe you can run and I'll run after you. Here. With me. Is that so bad?"

"No," Zoro's palm is rough on his cheek. Sanji missed it. "It's not bad at all."

Kissing was always Sanji's favorite part. He always felt like the intimacy it possessed for something so easily given away was the most worthwhile. He could kiss any of his dear friends and it would mean nothing like the force that drove the one Sanji and Zoro's had.

His lips were rough on his; his tongue a battlefield. If the All Blue and the rest of what followed meant he kept the swordsman like this, with him, then he could say he'd achieved his dream.

So, when they broke apart and Zoro rested his forehead on his—a far cry from the way they used to do it in the middle of battle—he knew the lifetime he'd imagined before was right in front of him already.