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Quiet. Darkness.
That’s all Sanji had noticed after he got separated from Zoro during the fight. He didn’t know what had happened; he was just about to kick Prince Gallant. Why would someone want to be a prince? In Sanji’s opinion, it was a horrible life.
Letting his eyes get used to the darkness, he gathered the strength to stand. Surveying the surroundings, he concluded that he must have ended up in some kind of shed, with a small, broken bench pushed to one side, next to an even more broken table. Broken glass and shards of wood were scattered throughout the small space.
Why couldn’t he have ended in the middle of beautiful women, or even pretty men? Either would’ve been fine with Sanji, anywhere but here.
Focus. Get back to Zoro.
A stench penetrated Sanji’s senses, his face contorted into one of disgust rather than that of curiosity. A minute later, he found the source of the smell, a dead rabbit.
“Damn, you would’ve made a great stew.” Sanji poked at the rabbit with his foot before moving to leave the shed.
Weaving through trees, he tried to follow the sounds of fighting to find his way. If only it didn’t sound like it was coming from all over.
He felt like Zoro right now. Officially lost.
The sounds of swords clashing got closer and then further away with each turn he made. He somehow ended up next to a creek. The island was weirdly normal, if it didn’t have giant people wanting to kill them at every turn.
Sanji just had to find the clearing. That was the last place he remembered Zoro and him being at. Back to back, fighting as if they’d never lose. Then he was plunged into still darkness.
Lost from his partner. Lost from the fight. Weakened and unable to find his way.
“Just wait till the cook gets back, big mouth!” Zoro’s voice carried through the woods. Followed by a yell and a cry. Sanji took off.
He got there just in time to see the enemy strike Zoro down. Sanji screamed, unable to witness the scene unfold in front of him. The giant disappeared and Sanji ran towards Zoro, who had now been covered in his own blood and fallen to the ground.
“Zoro! Baby! No, oh my god!” Hesitantly, Sanji grabbed onto Zoro, pressing his lips against Zoro’s forehead, the taste of iron filled his taste buds. Sanji felt the tears fall, blurring his vision. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. I should’ve fought harder.”
Sanji cried as he held Zoro close. He didn’t know how long he’d stayed in that position. It wasn’t until Chopper had shown up at his side that he looked up from Zoro’s pale and bloodied face.
“Let me take him,” Chopper urged. Sanji just held him closer, not willing to let him go at all. “Sanji, I have to fix him.”
“I will carry him back to the ship,” Sanji snapped. His grip tightened on the swordsman. “I’m not letting him go ever again.”
The next while became a blur for Sanji. It wasn’t until Nami shoved a sandwich in front of him, forcing him to come back to reality.
“Eat,” she demanded.
“Not hungry.” Sanji pushed the plate away. His voice showed how worried he actually was; he was quiet and still, rather than the joyous and expressive that he normally was with the navigator.
“It’s been three days, Sanji. You need food.” Nami held out the sandwich again. Sanji let out a sigh, taking the plate from her.
“Thanks,” he muttered, setting the plate on the side table.
Sanji flicked his gaze between the sandwich and Zoro lying unconscious and bandaged on the bed in front of him. He looked worse than when Kuma had given him all of Luffy’s pain and he was on death’s doorstep.
It hadn’t taken long after that for Sanji to realize just how much he loved and wanted to be with the swordsman. He had cornered Zoro and confessed, shocked by the way Zoro had reciprocated his feelings. It wasn’t until they had docked at the next island and Zoro had rented a motel room for the two of them that night that Sanji actually believed him.
They were supposed to find the all-blue together. A team. Zoro wasn’t supposed to die because of a stupid fight. He was supposed to live to become the world's greatest swordsman.
He wasn’t supposed to die.
Not yet.
“I’m so, so sorry. Wake up, please. I can’t lose you like this,” Sanji said. Tears threatening to fall, he wiped his eyes, not wanting to let Zoro see him crying when he woke.
Because he will wake.
Sanji knows it.
Days turned to weeks until Zoro made any kind of improvement. He hadn’t woken up yet or even reacted to anything that anyone said or did, but he was able to get some bandages taken off. Sanji hated watching the way his heart rate shot up each time Chopper checked on him. He hated seeing Zoro in so much pain, hated knowing that it was his fault.
It was his fault. His fault.
Sanji knew it. It was all his fault.
Your fault. Your fault. Zoro is gonna die and it’s all gonna be your fault.
Sanji had to look around to make sure that Perona didn’t somehow sneak onto the ship and infect him. He let the tears fall upon realizing that his thoughts were all on him.
But he couldn’t stop the truth. It was all his fault. He should’ve fought harder, should’ve protected Zoro.
He hadn’t cooked anything in weeks. Nami had all but kicked him out of the kitchen; she even went as far as to call it her kitchen. Sanji couldn’t believe it.
Staying by Zoro’s side for weeks had taken a toll on Sanji’s health. He’d gone through almost three packs of cigarettes a day, despite Chopper’s pleas for him to stop. He hardly ate, hardly slept, hardly did anything other than just watch Zoro breathe.
He needed to know he was still alive.
Your fault. Your fault. Your. Fucking. Fault.
The whole crew tried convincing Sanji that it wasn’t his fault. And maybe he knew that. But right now, he just couldn’t - wouldn’t believe it. Keeping his grip strong on Zoro’s hand, he looked up to the ceiling.
In the stillness of the night, Sanji prayed.
“You really should take a break from smoking.” Nami’s voice filled the small recovery room a week later. Sanji turned to look at her and let out a small sigh. “Oh, Sanji.”
Setting the plate of food on the table, she wrapped her arms around him. Sanji didn’t try to hold anything back. His body trembled against hers as sobs wracked his body; he slumped down, almost falling from his chair.
“I’m so scared.”
“I know.”
“I can’t lose him,” Sanji said quietly. “I can’t. We’re supposed to — I was supposed to… I couldn’t protect him.”
“Sanji. This isn’t your fault. Sir Gallant transported you away. Zoro knew what could happen and he stayed.”
“I was supposed to protect him. He almost died because of me.”
“He’s not dead.”
“It’s been a month and he hasn’t woken up yet. I killed him.”
Nami pulled away, cupping Sanji’s face. Her face was stern as she stared at Sanji. “You did not kill him. He’s going to wake up and be okay. Chopper will make sure of it.”
Sanji went back to his spot at the bedside. Taking Zoro’s hand again, he leaned down and pressed his lips to his palm, letting the kiss linger as tears fell.
He stayed, no matter what was happening on the ship. He listened to the sadness and the celebrations that passed, listened to each battle and each game night that took place. Each member had started showing up to talk to Zoro and update Sanji on things that had happened that day.
Sanji was quite pleased to hear that Nami had invested in a durable lock for the kitchen after Luffy had ransacked it… again. Not quite so pleased when Robin had accidentally dropped the bowl and they had to waste their dinner that night.
It had been two months since the battle and Zoro hadn’t made any indication that he would wake. Sanji was terrified with each day that passed, scared that Zoro wouldn’t wake up or that he’d hate him if he did.
Sanji prayed every night at this point, never leaving the bed. Just looked up to the sky and talked, unsure if anyone was even listening. He watched the stars, just hoping for an answer of some kind.
“Sanji, you should stretch. Go sit on the deck for a little bit,” Chopper suggested.
“I’m fine.” Sanji kept his eyes on Zoro, watching as his chest rose and fell.
“You’re not fine.”
“Chopper.”
“You have almost passed out multiple times. You haven’t been eating and you’ve been stinking up my infirmary with cigarette smoke,” Chopper said.
“I’m not going anywhere. Not until he’s okay.”
A moment of silence passed until Chopper spoke. “Sanji! Get out.”
“No!”
Chopper turned to his human form, standing tall over Sanji. He grabbed onto the cook’s arm and pulled him away from Zoro. Throwing him out of the infirmary, he shut the door loudly, locking it in the process.
“Chopper! Let me in!”
“You are banned until I tell you so!”
“What? No! He needs me there, Chop–”
“I am a doctor, I can handle his recovery. Go get some sleep or something.”
Sanji sank onto the floor across from the door. He flicked his lighter on and off, watching the flame come and go.
“Get away from the door.” Chopper’s voice came through the door. Sanji groaned, standing up.
Walking across the deck, his eyes caught Zoro’s weights. There had been silly faces drawn onto each side, no doubt that had been done by their captain. A small smile tugged at his mouth as he noticed each drawing.
Chopper had told him to sleep but he didn’t want to. He couldn’t. Not when Zoro wasn’t okay. Instead, he opted to light a cigarette as he leaned over the railing off the side of the ship. He needed to do something, otherwise he’d go crazy. Needed to distract himself, keep himself busy.
“Cook?” Robin’s voice infiltrated his mind.
“Yes, Robin dear?”
“Can I trouble you for some help with this recipe?”
Maybe that’s what he needed. To cook.
He nodded, tossing his cigarette into the water. Sanji followed her into the kitchen, his eyes bulging at the mess that had accumulated, bowls and pans scattered across each surface. He looked towards his beloved Robin, who wore a sheepish smile.
“First things first, this kitchen needs to be cleaned up.”
“Of course, Cook.”
They worked in unison to quickly clean the kitchen before Sanji turned on chef mode and helped Robin perfect her recipe. Each time his eyes glanced towards the bench, he couldn’t help the pain that emerged in his chest.
He wanted to kick down Chopper’s door and just stay there, no matter what Chopper threatened to do to him. But he knew that wouldn’t do any good, for either Zoro or him.
“Sanji! Can I have meat?” Luffy asked, barging into the kitchen. Robin let out a giggle as her extra hands dried the dishes.
“Sure.”
“Welcome back, Mr. Cook.”
Sanji moved around the kitchen, preparing a meal for the captain, complete with three servings of meat, along with piles of rice and even a dessert. He tried to keep his focus off Zoro as he cooked, but each glance towards the bench made his heart hurt.
He was supposed to be there, cleaning his swords or making some jab at the cook as he worked. Sanji missed seeing him there.
Sanji stayed in the kitchen long after Luffy had finished his meal. He couldn’t bear to see Zoro through the small window, knowing that he couldn’t do anything to help right now.
As the days passed, slowly turning into another week, Sanji realized that he needed to do something to distract himself, and cooking turned out to be that something. The love and joy emerged once again, and by the time the sun went down each night, surfaces would be covered in rice balls, onigiri, and different kinds of sushi. All the favorites of Zoro’s.
Sanji decided he’d finished. He couldn’t just cook because he was worried.
He’d run out of rice.
Bringing up a container to Nami for her watch that night, he decided to package the rest, refusing to waste anything. Placing the box of onigiri on Zoro’s pile, he let out a sigh. He knew that the swordsman would want some if he woke up.
“Sanji!” Chopper ran into the kitchen.
“What is it, Chopper?” Sanji asked, wiping down the counter.
“It’s Zoro,” Chopper said. Sanji dropped the knife he was holding. He swung around, looking down at the doctor.
“Is he -” Sanji couldn’t bring himself to ask the full question. A lump formed in his throat, and he swore he stopped breathing for a second. He didn’t want to think about that. He couldn’t think about it.
“He’s awake.”
Sanji didn’t say anything as he tore off running to the infirmary. Practically tearing the door off its hinges, tears streamed down his face as he took in the sight. Zoro was sitting up.
Awake.
Alive.
“Curly.” Zoro’s voice was hoarse, evidence of being out for months.
“Zoro,” Sanji said quietly. Coming to his side, Sanji cupped his face, pressing his lips against Zoro’s. “You’re okay. You’re alive. Oh god, you’re okay.”
Sanji peppered kisses all over Zoro’s face, causing him to smile.
“I’m okay.” Zoro smiled. He pressed his lips to Sanji’s knuckles, his eyes meeting the cook’s. “I’m okay. It wasn’t that bad.”
“Wasn’t that bad?” Sanji pulled away slightly. “You were out for over two months. I thought you were going to -”
Zoro pulled him close, Sanji sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
Sanji let himself relax.
A week passed before Zoro could move on his own. Two before he could eat solid food, despite his insistence that he was fine. Three until he was cleared for training again.
Sanji had been put on “Zoro duty”. He was quite glad that it was him and not someone else. He did enjoy seeing the mosshead shirtless, lifting weights or working with his swords while he worked on a new recipe.
A month after waking up, Zoro pulled Sanji into the pantry. Zoro pushed Sanji against the wall, kissing him.
“What’re you doing?” Sanji asked.
“I just wanted some time alone with you.” Zoro kissed him again, his hands gripping Sanji’s waist. “I love you.”
Sanji let himself be pulled tight against Zoro; he knew how much the swordsman loved him. Could feel it in the way he touched him and heard it in the way he spoke about the cook. They still fought just as much, but now the Sunny didn’t get as much damage as before.
“You know, Franky offered to build us a room,” Sanji said through shaking breaths. Zoro had kissed down his neck, his hands ducked under Sanji’s shirt, fingers lightly running over his sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“Oh yeah? What’d you say?” Zoro mumbled against his neck.
“He’s making us a room,” Sanji responded. A laugh — Sanji would deny the giggle that actually happened — came out when Zoro peppered kisses on his neck. “With an actual bed, ah!”
“Why don’t we go test it out?”
“You are still healing.”
“I am fine. Now, come on, Curls,” Zoro murmured in his ear, leaving a bite on his neck.
Clothes became littered throughout the Merry as they made way to their new room. Embarrassment followed the next morning when they had finally emerged from the room, late for breakfast, flushed, and covered in marks.
Although they were both too happy to actually care what the others had to say.