Chapter Text
Sanji set the last plate on the table and finally sat down to have breakfast. The sleepy Straw Hats, not quite awake yet, poked at their food with their forks. Even Luffy was chewing with his eyes closed — with a huge appetite, but without opening them.
Nami yawned sweetly and stretched. The day promised to be calm, unlike yesterday. She poked at her breakfast with a fork.
“Sanji... omelet again?” she asked, glancing at the plate. “Usually you’re a little more creative with food, but this is the same thing two days in a row.”
Sanji was pouring coffee for Robin. He looked up to give attention to another beloved nakama.
“What are you talking about, Nami-swan? This is the first time this week I’ve made it. I keep everything on schedule—every Tuesday is omelet day for my beautiful mellorine. But if you’re tired of it, I can make a fruit salad right now, my dear!”
Sanji sprang to his feet and dashed to the refrigerator.
“Cook-san, today is already Wednesday,” Robin quietly pointed out.
Sanji froze and stared at her in confusion.
“It’s nothing, Sanji, if you got it mixed up. The omelet is perfectly fine for me. Though I do want a fruit salad for an afternoon snack,” Nami winked.
The cook stayed by the fridge, nervously gripping the door handle.
“I’d remember if I cooked the same dish two days in a row. But I’m absolutely sure we had sandwiches for breakfast yesterday.”
By then the whole crew was confused. By then the whole crew was confused. Sanji stood with his back to them, replaying yesterday’s events in his head and trying to figure out how such a mix-up could have happened. He stood there without noticing the worried looks fixed on him.
“Maybe you don’t remember yesterday’s fight either?” Usopp asked.
“A couple of kicks don’t count as a fight. Don’t dramatize, Usopp. You should be used to Marimo getting beaten by me by now.”
“So I wasn’t imagining that you got hit yesterday,” Zoro muttered, remembering what had happened.
The Marines had appeared without warning. There were no islands nearby, but they had risen out of nowhere like sea devils. Their ship was tiny—about fifty men—so dealing with them hadn’t been much trouble.
But just when Zoro had gotten distracted by the rowdiest ones, a rat had crept up behind him and struck the cook on the head. Not hard. Just with a hand. No blood. Zoro hadn’t worried about it: he had knocked the bastard out immediately and thrown him overboard.
The cook had looked perfectly alive and healthy—there wasn’t even a bruise left. Zoro had checked, and ended up getting kicked for it. A friendly scuffle had followed, which meant everything was fine. So they had both agreed not to bother Chopper with something so small.
“And you said nothing, Zoro?!” the doctor exclaimed.
“He was acting normal. Same vicious mutt as always: barking and biting. So I thought nothing was wrong.”
Now Chopper wanted to smack both stubborn idiots. Why did these hardheaded brutes always hide their injuries from him? Did they really not trust his medical skills at all? Besides, if everything had been fine, he would have confirmed it himself and sent them off in peace.
But no, they always had to hide something. And now Sanji might have a concussion!
“What are you talking about? What fight?!”
“Sanji-san, it seems you’ve forgotten the entire day yesterday,” Jinbei said.
“I’d definitely remember if I’d forgotten something! I never forget anything!” the cook shouted. “I made sandwiches for breakfast. Washed and hung out the laundry. Seafood pasta for lunch—Luffy was whining again that it wasn’t meat. Then cocktails for my beautiful ladies. I barely convinced these stinkers,” he said, pointing at the ‘children’ of the crew, “to take a bath. And then barbecue for dinner, because our ‘wonderful’ captain finally deigned to wash himself! And you’re telling me I don’t remember what happened yesterday?!”
“Phenomenal memory, bro, but that was the day before yesterday,” Franky confirmed.
Sanji roared and slammed the refrigerator door shut. It gave a sad creak. He returned to the table and kept eating, ignoring everyone. You can’t show blind people, and you can’t prove anything to fools. If they didn’t believe him, he couldn’t do anything about it.
“I don’t think a concussion works that selectively: perfectly remembering one day and completely forgetting another,” Robin said thoughtfully. “Maybe the cause is something else.”
“Right. A concussion usually comes with other symptoms—dizziness, pain, nausea, coordination problems... We definitely would have noticed,” Chopper added.
“Let me guess: another Devil Fruit?” Usopp asked.
Robin nodded, and the sniper rolled his eyes. On this damned Grand Line, it was always the same: if something happened, look for the Devil Fruit user.
“It could have been that Marine sneaking up from behind that Zoro noticed. That would explain why he hit Sanji with just his hand and not a weapon. And why there were no visible injuries.”
The crew perked up, having formed a rough picture of what had happened. Sanji kept chewing his breakfast, scowling in hurt silence. He didn’t believe them. In return, they didn’t believe him either.
“So what are we supposed to do about it?”
“For now, mostly wait. But of course I’ll check the encyclopedia for what kind of fruit it was and how we might reverse its effect.”
That settled it. The Straw Hats finished eating and went off to do their own things. Sanji stayed in the galley to clean the dishes, and Zoro stayed to help him.
Sanji washed the plates, thinking about what to cook for lunch: should he follow Tuesday’s schedule or Wednesday’s? If he cooked Tuesday’s menu, his friends would supposedly have to eat the same thing twice. But if he switched to Wednesday, his entire internal routine would shift. And that would mean he believed this nonsense about losing his memory. Forgetting something? That would mean losing the last bit of control over his own life. It sounded too terrifying to be true.
Zoro wiped the dishes and thought about how irresponsible he was and how he had failed to protect his nakama. He had been right there, knew that Cook was careless, and still got distracted in the middle of battle. As first mate, he was responsible for the whole crew. And it was lucky his mistake had only cost the cook his memory, not his life.
Meanwhile, Robin was leafing through an old encyclopedia of Devil Fruits and found the closest match: the Memory Fruit. It stripped its victims of their memories of the ‘infected’ day. In practice, the person lived in an endless cycle where today never existed, starting from the moment of infection. He remembered only what had happened before contact with the fruit, and after sleep he forgot the day he had lived through. The book also said the length of the curse depended on the strength of the user. That meant Cook-san might lose his memory for three days, or a month, or maybe even... a year. It all depended on how strong that Marine had been.
At lunch, the crew gathered to discuss their strategy. All they could do was wait and hope the effect wouldn’t last long. There was no way to convince the cook that he was forgetting the days. Even now, with all the facts and evidence, Sanji still didn’t want to fully accept it. And repeating the same thing every day felt like pure cruelty. It was decided that Nami or Robin would remind him daily to adjust the menu. They were the only ones the cook would listen to, even if the girls’ words sounded like nonsense to him.
And just when it seemed that all the questions had been settled, the captain called another meeting—this time without the cook present.
“We should prank Sanji!” Luffy shouted happily. “When will we ever get such a great chance again? Besides, he won’t remember anything, so he can’t get offended!”
Jinbei and Chopper frowned, clearly unhappy with the idea. Nami and Zoro had their doubts too. The plan sounded morally questionable. But Usopp and Franky brightened up and supported the captain.
“We could ask Cook-san questions we were too afraid to ask before, because we didn’t want to hurt him,” Robin said thoughtfully.
“And we could also hurt and offend him,” Jinbei added. “That’s exactly why we didn’t ask.”
“We didn’t ask because we didn’t know how he’d react,” Zoro muttered. “He always blows up like a maniac the second you say anything to him.”
“Yeah,” Nami agreed. “And what if there are things he wants to talk to us about, but he’s too shy or afraid to start? If it’s something bad, we just never bring it up again. And if everything goes well, then we can talk to him again after the memory problem is over.”
Silence fell over the room. Everyone was thinking about their own reasons, silently bargaining with their conscience. They remembered Sanji’s family, how he had hidden information, and what that had led to in the end...
“How will we know if we’ve gone too far and something’s wrong?” Brook asked.
“He’ll say so himself,” Luffy said easily. He had no doubt about the plan. Especially since he was the one who had come up with it.
In the end, the captain received a series of nods. Some were eager and cheerful, others more restrained.
“Great!” Luffy shouted. “Since I came up with this awesome idea, I go first!”
Usopp and Franky exchanged sly smiles. Whatever the captain was about to do, they had something of their own in mind.