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There was something wrong with the cook.
Correction. There was something more wrong with the cook than usual.
They were sailing towards an island that was somewhere between spring and summer, the weather sunny without being hot or excessively humid, and there was just the right amount of breeze. If it were possible for paradise to exist without any actual land in sight, this was it.
Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp were having a water gun battle in a giant, transparent pool that Franky had set up on the lawn deck. Its frame was Wapometal and its liner was made of a durable new material that Franky had been working on. Zoro gave it maybe a fifty-fifty chance of surviving their captain's chaos.
Franky was setting up a new grill nearby for the poolside barbecue Luffy had demanded after Robin had explained to him the concept of pool parties. Apparently, they were popular in nearby summer isles. Jinbe was laughing sunnily while handing Franky various wrenches and screwdrivers.
Robin and the witch were sitting on beach chairs under umbrellas, sipping ice cold drinks that were a delicate balance of citrus, mint, and booze. Brook was playing a cheery tune on a kokyū he'd been gifted after learning to play it with Hiyori during the celebrations in Wano. Zoro was sipping his own chilled drink, watching the other Straw Hats play with a warmth in his chest that was only partly due to the generous amount of alcohol in his glass.
With one notable exception, all of Zoro's crewmates were enjoying a much-needed breather after everything they'd fought through these past few months in Wano and Dressrosa. And Whole Cake, now that Zoro knew the full extent of what Luffy and the others had gone through there. What the cook had gone through...
After waking up from his week-long coma after Onigashima, Zoro had confronted the twirly-browed idiot the first chance he’d gotten to corner him alone. In a heated lapse of self-control that only the other man could ever provoke him to, Zoro had yelled and yelled at him for not relying on them to help, for being so thick-headed as to not realize that obviously Luffy was going to come after him the same way he did for Nami and Robin, and for being so self-sacrificial and self-deprecating as to think that the only way to stop him from becoming a monster was to kill him, rather than, oh, I don't know, literally any other solution the more brilliant Straw Hats might be able to come up with if the moron ever bothered to ask.
Once Zoro had finished yelling himself hoarse, they had slumped to the floor and shared a fine bottle of sake pilfered from the castle’s wine cellar while Sanji opened up about his past: about everything that he had experienced in Germa, as well as what had come after.
After that uncharacteristic and slightly awkward heart-to-heart, the cook had seemed lighter and brighter. He was practically floating while cooking even more meat for their bottomless pit of a captain; he baked twice as many sweets as usual for Chopper; and, when making special drinks or dishes for the ladies, he shocked the male Straw Hats by freely giving them nearly equal portions. He was even less antagonistic and more playful towards Zoro than usual, an attitude that left the swordsman feeling a bit off balance in a way he refused to name.
That's why, given the cook's recent good mood and the day's atmosphere and festivities, Zoro was confused—and begrudgingly concerned—that their resident pervert had barely reacted to Robin's and the witch's new bikinis. The swordsman doubted it was his Germa modifications kicking in, based on what he'd shared about his brothers' own lecherous behavior. They'd been at sea for nearly a month since Wano, encountering neither islands nor other people, so he also doubted that a devil fruit user was the cause. Robin would probably theorize that an aquatic parasite had invaded his brain and caused him to go selectively blind. Or something equally dark.
So, what was the cook's problem this time? And why was Zoro even worrying about it?
A small voice in his mind started to whisper the reason, but he told it to shut the hell up.
Since he was self-aware enough to recognize—no matter what the witch said about him—that it would continue to bother him until he could figure it out, he slurped down the last of his cocktail through half-melted ice cubes before marching towards the galley under the pretext of demanding another round.
He strode through the galley door, but didn’t see any immediate sign of the cook. His haki told him the other man was here, however, so he called out,
“Oi, Curly! You here?”
He heard a bang and muffled cursing from the pantry, so he made his way over there. He stood in the doorway watching the blond rub the top of his head, before turning to give a half-hearted scowl in Zoro’s direction. Very half-hearted. Zoro frowned.
“You good, Blondie?” he asked.
“Yeah, fine. If you want another drink, give me a minute,” Sanji replied tiredly. Zoro’s frown deepened. Even with his recent warming up to Zoro, he never offered to give him booze without protest like this. He usually shot off a couple of insults first, even if just out of habit. It had been a while since either of them had treated the other with genuine animosity.
Zoro hummed but didn’t respond, just watched as the cook turned back to the pantry shelves, checking each one. The swordsman noticed a small notepad and pencil nearby, which Sanji picked up to write something down in, brow furrowing. He checked more shelves and containers, his shoulders unconsciously rising each time he did so. As Zoro observed his face and noted his posture, he realized that the cook was not merely tired, but anxious. Worried. It triggered a memory of the conversation they’d had in a back room of the shogun’s castle.
“How are we doing on food?” Zoro asked bluntly.
The blond froze and didn’t answer. Zoro felt like he finally had the answer to the question that had been nagging at him, but he was surprised. He knew the cook well enough to know how careful he was with storing and rationing their food. Especially considering what he’d told Zoro about his time on the rock with Zeff.
“What happened? I thought we loaded up with plenty of food back in Wano, and we still have a bunch of fish in the tank. Did something change?”
The cook hunched in on himself for a beat, before squaring his shoulders and meeting Zoro’s eye.
“We did take on plenty of stores in Wano. And we do have plenty of seafood in the aquarium. That’s not the problem,” the cook told him.
“Then what is the problem?”
In his current stressed state, Sanji looked like he was about to truly yell at him for the first time in weeks, but then he paused. He searched Zoro’s face, and whatever he saw there made him calm down a little. He let out a deep breath.
“We have plenty of protein options and rice,” he started.
“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me,” Zoro grinned. The cook rolled his eyes.
“Of course it doesn’t to you, you simple-minded brute,” the cook grumbled, “but you do know that those aren’t the only food groups, don’t you?”
Zoro shrugged. The cook groaned and ran a hand through his hair, giving the strands a tug.
“Why do I even bother? You won’t get it.” He pulled his hair harder. Zoro grabbed his hand to stop him.
“Hey, explain it to me, then.”
The cook took another deep breath.
“We have plenty of protein and rice,” he reiterated, “but our other supplies are getting low since we haven’t restocked since Wano. And even with proper storage, many of the remaining fruits and vegetables have ripened and turned sooner than I had hoped. We’re not going to starve—yet—but the crew’s overall nutrition is going to suffer because we won’t have enough ingredients for balanced meals if we don’t resupply soon. And knowing our luck, we’ll get caught up in another all-out war with an Emperor’s crew or the Marines or something even worse before the next island, and everyone will be weaker and lagging all because I couldn’t feed them well enough.”
His eyes had taken on a slightly manic glint as he began to spiral. Zoro squeezed his hand to snap him out of it, only now realizing he still held it. He dropped the hand like it had burned him. He coughed discreetly, before opening his mouth to respond.
“First of all, I doubt Shanks is going to fight Luffy anytime soon, and since we’re technically an Emperor’s crew now ourselves, that’s bound to give the Marines pause—at least enough of one for us to either get the hell away or to let Luffy get close enough to make them regret their career choice.” The cook’s lips quirked upwards. “As for Blackbeard—or anyone else for that matter—if we have to fight ‘em, then we will. And we’ll win, whether or not we’re in peak condition, because when have the odds ever been on our side before?”
“But what if—?”
“Don’t worry about what-ifs. We’ll deal with what we can deal with, and adapt to what we can’t. Don’t worry about something that will probably never happen.”
The cook shot him a cynical look.
“Something that might not happen today,” Zoro amended. The cook just shook his head in exasperation, before giving a fond smile.
“It must be nice to live without any worries in that mossy head of yours. Probably due to your lack of brain cells,” the blond ribbed.
“There he is,” Zoro grinned back.
After the cook made him another drink—a blend of the shōchū and yuzu liqueur that Hiyori had eagerly supplied barrels upon barrels of while staring intently at Zoro—and shooed him away from the galley, Zoro started to replay their conversation in his mind as he sipped.
“We’ll deal with what we can deal with,” he’d said. But how to deal with this particular problem? Obviously, the easiest way would be to find an island so that they can stock up. Zoro set his now empty glass somewhere the cook would eventually find it and nag him about, then wandered off in search of their navigator.
When he finally found her, she’d moved from lazing away on the beach chair on the lawn deck to standing at the back of the ship in the tangerine grove next to the main mast. As Zoro approached, he saw that she was picking some of the tangerines from a nearby tree and gathering them into a medium-sized basket nestled in the crook of her arm.
“Oi, witch!” he called out.
Nami startled and smacked her forehead on a nearby branch. Zoro snickered. Everyone was so jumpy today.
“That’s 100,000 berries for physical and emotional distress,” she snarled at him.
“Yeah, yeah, add it to my tab,” he drawled, rolling his eye.
Nami placed another tangerine in her basket, then reached out to a nearby branch to pinch off a few leaves that had browned. Zoro watched her as she started checking the next tree, the question he’d come to ask temporarily forgotten. Her tangerine trees weren’t exactly overflowing with fruit, but there was definitely enough to supplement part of the crew’s diet for a bit. He didn’t usually pay that much attention to the trees—or to any of the witch’s things, unless it would affect his debt—but now he watched as her deft hands picked fruit, checked branches, and plucked withered leaves. Huh.
“Hey witch, how much fruit do your trees produce usually?” Zoro asked.
Nami raised an eyebrow at his sudden interest, but answered easily, “A decent amount, but not that often. Back in Coco Village—” she paused for a moment, her eyes softening, “—back in Coco Village, we would usually harvest the groves once a year, in the fall, but these trees have started bearing fruit more sporadically since entering the Grand Line. Probably on account of the seasons not being consistent.” She looked at him curiously. “Why do you ask?”
“Uh…” Zoro mentally debated what to tell her, knowing that somehow she would use his answer against him. He was trying to find a way to help the cook help all of them, but it was the cook. Everyone knew the two of them well enough to know that it was unusual for Zoro to get personally involved in his problems.
...Fuck it, he was just trying to look out for his crew, same as he’s always done. Nothing unusual about that.
“Dartboard Brows is being neurotic over some apples and carrots or some shit, overthinking things as usual. Just trying to find a way to calm him the fuck down.”
Nami raised her eyebrow higher. Zoro swallowed, but didn't look away. Her expression turned sly, but before she called him out, her expression turned more thoughtful.
“I had noticed that he’s not acting like himself today—which, I’m not complaining about getting to sunbathe in relative peace for once—but I wasn’t sure what was going on. Or if he’d tell me if I asked,” she said a little sadly. Zoro knew that their relationship wasn’t quite as smooth after Whole Cake as it had been, but he also knew that Nami still cared about the cook, in her own way. He was sure they’d figure things out eventually.
“He said that we’re good on fish and rice, but need more of everything else. How close do you think we are to the next island?” he asked.
“We should arrive at the next island in…” She turned her focus inward, calculating, “…maybe four or five days?”
Zoro nodded at her answer.
“That’s not too bad, we should be fine, then. Can you let the cook know so he can stop freaking out?”
“Why don’t you let him know yourself?” Nami retorted with a knowing gleam in her eye, which Zoro tried not to blush at. He wasn’t sure how successful he was.
“You and I both know it would make him feel a lot better coming from his precious Nami-swan than from me,” he shot back.
“Fair point,” she conceded. “Fine, I’ll tell him, but I’m charging you for my time and patience.”
Zoro grimaced as she walked past him to the main deck, gently swinging her basket of tangerines by its handle.
After the witch left, Zoro decided to stay and nap by the trees. The good weather still held, and the gentle warmth, combined with the sound of the breeze rustling through the leaves, quickly lulled him to sleep.
He woke an hour or two later, the sun still shining in the sky, although more softly than before. He stretched widely and stood up, scratching his chest. The skin around Mihawk’s scar itched now and then, but not enough to bother him. His skin wasn’t the only thing itching at the moment, though, as he considered whether to go grab some weights or work on sword forms with Enma. Or, I could drag the cook out of the galley for a spar. It’s been too long since we’ve fought properly.
As he weighed the three options in his mind, he noticed their sniper strolling towards him, whistling the tune Brook had been working on a few hours ago. When he saw Zoro, he waved.
“Hey, big guy! Just wake up?”
Zoro grunted in response. Usopp didn’t seem at all put off by his lack of words, more than used to it after sailing together for so long.
"So who won the water gun fight?" Zoro asked him after a moment, rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his eye.
"The great Captain Usopp has never lost a contest of arms. After thoroughly overwhelming my opponents with the relentless barrage of the five hundred water cannons I had positioned around the perimeter, I decided to remove myself from the field of battle so that they could have a fair fight. Definitely not because Luffy wanted to do a Gum-Gum Cannonball the same size as the pool."
Zoro snorted. "How thoughtful of you."
"I'm always thoughtful," Usopp agreed. "People say that sometimes I'm too thoughtful. One time, my crew of eight thousand brave warriors and I washed up on an island of talking animals. Not Zou, of course; uhh, a different island of animals.
"And wouldn't you know it, the very day that we arrived was their most important holiday of the year, which they celebrated with a race. They begged me to also partake in this race as an honored guest. I knew that I had an unfair advantage, being blessed with superhuman speed, but it would have been rude to refuse.
"As soon as the race began, I rushed past the other animals, leaving all of them in my dust. I decided to slow down a bit and rest so I wouldn’t upstage them too badly. And that's when I noticed: at the very back of the pack was a tortoise, moving as fast as she could, but still near the starting line.
"Overcome with compassion, I raced back to her, picked her up, and zoomed past the greyhounds, the ostriches, and the cheetahs—all the way down the road until the finish line came into view. Then I set her down and watched as she crossed it, knowing that I could have won, but my tender heart would have found the victory hollow. And that's how the tortoise won the race."
Zoro couldn't help but chuckle fondly as he animatedly spun his tale, gesturing wildly as he mentioned each animal he supposedly outran.
He clapped him on the shoulder, "That's our thoughtful, unbeatable Captain Usopp." Usopp preened a little under the praise.
"I'm a man of many depths and talents. Speaking of which..." Usopp raised the canvas bag he was carrying as he started to walk around the tangerine trees and the main mast. A series of pockets ran around the edge of his bag, various tool handles sticking up out of each of them.
"What are you working on?" Zoro asked, following him idly.
As they rounded the mast, they passed by Robin's flowerbeds and came to the garden space allotted to Usopp for growing his peppers and pop greens.
"Eh, I'll probably tinker with some exploding stars a bit later after I check on my babies," the sniper replied. He set down his bag and started examining the leaves on a nearby pepper plant.
Usopp's garden was divided into two parts—or rather, two boxes, one significantly larger than the other. The smaller box was filled with tall, thin plants all tied to stakes. The plants themselves all looked mostly the same, to Zoro's eye, but some had ripening peppers on them, with each plant yielding peppers of different colors and sizes.
The other, larger box was covered with a fine mesh cage and filled with a diverse assortment of strange-looking plants that all radiated malice. Usopp crouched by this box next and started cooing to the plants inside. Zoro looked at him incredulously.
"I have to soothe them first before I can harvest their seeds for my pop greens. Otherwise, they'll try to attack me," Usopp explained. "But even so, they're still plants, and all plants like being talked to like a friend,” he said with a soft smile that crinkled his eyes.
Zoro thought about what the cook would say to that. The image of the cook cooing at him as Zoro swung Wado at the other man suddenly popped into his head, and he shuddered.
But maybe the talking part, like they did in Wano—and had done occasionally before that on the ship on calm nights—wasn't so bad. Zoro certainly didn't feel like attacking him then.
Damn the shitty cook, I'm not a plant! Zoro shut down the imagery that had crept up on him without his permission, and shoved it somewhere he hopefully wouldn't have to think about it again.
He turned his attention back to Usopp, watching him water each of the plants and then stick what looked like one of the cook's thermometers—only bigger—into the soil.
"You take their temperature?" Zoro wondered aloud. Usopp laughed.
"Not temperature, though I get why you might think that. I’m checking their pH levels—basically, how acidic or not their soil is. Plants require a certain chemical balance to live and thrive. If the pH levels are too high or too low, that can cause a lot of problems. Those levels can be affected by the type of soil used, what’s added to or stripped from the soil nutritionally, and even what kind of water is used for watering. Not all water is equal, especially rainwater in different places and climates, which means that I have to monitor my babies even more closely as we sail than I would have to if I were living on land.”
Zoro let out a low whistle, impressed.
“Do you know how to grow other kinds of plants, too? Maybe some vegetables, besides those?” He nodded at the peppers.
Usopp puffed out his chest. “The great Gardener Usopp can grow anything! Back in Syrup Village, I won first place in every farming competition. It was lucky for them that my heart was set on piracy, or I would have put every other farmer in town out of business. My crops were always bigger, healthier, and more productive than anyone else’s on the island,” he declared proudly.
“Then it seems that Nami’s trees and my flowers are in the best of hands.” Usopp jumped at Robin, who had appeared right behind him.
“Our dear sniper helps look after our plants in addition to his own, on occasion,” she confided to Zoro. “And I must say, my flowers do always seem even more vibrant under his care.” Usopp blushed faintly at her endorsement.
She turned to Zoro. “I didn’t realize that you were interested in gardening. Are you perhaps picking up a new hobby?” she asked.
“Huh? Ah, no, I was just curious,” he replied.
“That’s a shame. I find tending my flowers to be quite relaxing. Meditative, even. I imagine that tending an herb or vegetable garden would be even more rewarding, since you would also have the satisfaction of eating the fruit of your labor.” Her smile turned slightly sinister. “Though perhaps if I were to grow poisonous flowers, then I might be able to experience that same satisfaction, albeit vicariously through my victims.”
Usopp chuckled nervously. “But, you’re not going to do that, right?” Robin just smiled serenely at him.
“You know what, I think I’ve got enough pop greens for now. I should probably leave before I come down with a case of deadlygardenitis.”
Zoro looked pointedly at the pop green garden, then back at Usopp’s already-retreating form, and shook his head. He turned his attention back to Robin, expecting her to make for her flowerbeds since everyone seemed to be in a gardening mood today, but instead he found her staring at him appraisingly.
"What?" he asked.
She hummed. "I noticed that our dear cook has not been feeling quite himself today. And he had been so happy since we left Wano," she observed mischievously.
"Of course he's happy, he's finally free of his shitty family," he responded, feeling slightly defensive. "Not that they have any right to call themselves that," he added darkly.
"No, they don't," she agreed. Zoro waited for her to say more, but she seemed content to remain silent. Finally, he asked,
"Do you regret not going with Luffy to Whole Cake?"
It was a question that had plagued his mind ever since Sanji had told him about his childhood. Zoro couldn't believe that his past self had been a big enough asshole to tell Luffy to leave his rival to his fate, even if he had never truly meant it.
Robin considered his question, before answering carefully, "I wish that I also could have gone to be there for him, to let him know that he was loved and supported the same way that he's always done for me, for all of us. But," she continued slowly, "I also understand why that wasn't a practical course of action at the time. So, I won't waste my time with regret for the past, and instead choose to think of what I can do for him in the present."
Zoro felt a weight being lifted at her words. Not completely, but enough that he could see a way forward unfettered by his shame. His mind started thinking of what he could do for Sanji now.
Be nicer to the cook? They had both already started being nicer to each other recently—by their standards, anyway.
Carry the shopping with less grumbling at their next supply run? Sanji would think something was wrong with him.
Offer to help with food prep? Sanji would punt him out of the galley at the mere suggestion, claiming that Zoro would ruin the dishes with his brutish chopping. Not that Zoro could necessarily disagree with that assessment—except for the last part, obviously. There was nothing brutish or sloppy about his bladework, no matter what the shitty cook said.
So then, how could Zoro show Sanji that he had his back outside of battle, too, without the other man balking?
Robin laid a hand on his arm. "When you decide what you'll do," she said gently, as though reading his mind, "let me know if I can help in any way." She gave his arm a light squeeze before turning and gliding toward the library.
As she was leaving, Zoro felt an idea that had been forming in the back of his mind all afternoon suddenly claw its way forward.
"Wait!" he called. She turned and waited for him to continue. "Actually, I might already have something. But I'll need your help to figure out how to pull it off." This time when Robin smiled, it was warm and earnest.
Zoro and Robin spent the next four days holed up in the library studying documents of all kinds. They went through history books, manuals, treatises, trade agreements, notes on aquatic ecology, agricultural records, and maps. Nami even lent them copies of her own maps that she had drawn throughout their travels. They were accompanied by meticulous notes on the resources and cultures of each island, which Zoro learned that she and Robin had been collaborating on since Skypiea.
Sanji would come in from time to time to bring them refreshments: usually tea with sandwiches, and sometimes peeled and separated tangerine slices from the nearly ten basketfuls that Nami had recently given him.
He would always have a perturbed look on his face when he saw Zoro curled up on one of the cushioned benches near the windows, face buried in a book. Once, when Zoro was reading a thick tome about horticulture, Sanji made a quip about a plant trying to grow other plants, and seemed upset when he was only waved off mildly. Every time he came back after that, he would toss ever-sharper barbs Zoro’s way, and look like he wanted to strangle the swordsman each time he failed to respond with his usual aggression. An even stronger tobacco smell than usual began to linger around Sanji.
Usopp finally spotted an island in the distance on the fifth day, and the crew excitedly prepared to make landfall. As they sailed into port, Sanji was practically vibrating in place, clearly anxious to go see what the dockside markets could offer them.
The crew furled the sails and began the rest of the docking sequence. The moment the dockhands had secured their mooring lines to the cleats and Franky had lashed down the gangway, Nami gave them all their allowance and turned them loose. She grabbed Luffy's ear before he could slingshot off, threatening to take his coin back and inflict bodily harm if he caused an uproar before Sanji had the chance to finish restocking the Sunny. He shishishied away, and the cook thanked her effusively before grabbing Zoro by the back of his coat and dragging him stumbling off the ship.
As they walked down the busy streets, Sanji seemed to regain his previous lightheartedness. He flitted from stall to stall examining wares, asking about local specialties and recipes, and plying the female vendors with excessive but sincere praise. Zoro didn’t even grumble at that last one for once, simply happy to see the cook’s spirits lifted. While the cook chatted away with the island’s merchants, the swordsman thought of what he and Robin had discussed the night before. He hoped she found a shop that had what they needed.
After an hour or two of walking around—and in Zoro’s case, pulling around a cart containing the multitude of bags, boxes, and crates that Sanji had purchased—they saw a small bistro with outdoor seating near the waterfront. Zoro tucked their cart into a corner near their table, and the two sat down to look at the menu. Both ravenous by this point, they ordered a variety of local dishes: spicy, crispy pancakes made with fermented cabbage; tender pork slices served with lettuce and other leaves for wrapping; grilled fish with crispy skin brushed with a buttery lemon glaze; rice mixed with marinated beef and at least five different vegetables cut into thin ribbons, served in a warm stone bowl. Their waiter also brought them a bottle of the milky rice wine that their island was famous for. Zoro found it much milder than sake, but enjoyed it enough that he made a mental note to pick up a case or three before they set sail.
Once they had finished their food and sat there sipping small bowl-shaped cups they'd refilled with a second bottle of the rice wine, Sanji cleared his throat and glanced at Zoro.
“You and Robin have been spending a lot of time together recently,” he commented uneasily. He seemed to realize how that came out, and continued with his usual prickly tone, “You shouldn’t be bothering her in the library, desecrating our goddess' temple with your stench and poor manners!”
Zoro leveled a flat look in his direction. “I wasn’t bothering her; she invited me in. We're... working on something together.” The cook bristled, a sharp look crossing his face.
"Oh yeah, like what?" he demanded.
Zoro hesitated, his ears turning pink.
"Just...something," he said, gulping down the rest of his rice wine. The cook stared at him, analyzing the swordsman's uncharacteristic self-consciousness and arriving at an unknown conclusion.
"I see," he said icily, standing up. He gathered the few bags and packages that he had carried himself. "We should get these back to the ship," he said, gesturing to the cart, before walking away stiffly to settle their bill. Zoro groaned and followed him.
"What exactly is it that you think you see?" Zoro asked him once they were back outside, walking towards the docks. Sanji ignored him.
"Hey, cook, what do you think you see?" Zoro persisted. Sanji remained silent and walked a little faster. Zoro easily matched his stride.
"Curls, talk to me," he pleaded. Sanji whirled to face him.
"I did talk to you! Back in Wano!” he cried. “I opened myself up to you and told you things I've never told anyone else, not even Luffy or Nami—who, by the way, actually came to Whole Cake and witnessed the shitshow that is my family in real time!" Zoro flinched at the implied accusation.
"I thought that you and I were finally moving beyond just being crewmates who fought all the time and barely tolerated each other. I thought that we were finally getting closer. You even comforted me in the galley, and I guess I thought- I thought..." He trailed off, blinking rapidly. Attention caught by the movement, Zoro was horrified to see that Sanji's eyes were slightly wet. The cook ran a hand over his face, surreptitiously wiping his eyes.
"But then you started spending all your free time with Robin, and suddenly it was like I didn't exist. You wouldn't even argue or fight with me anymore. It made me feel so stupid, like maybe I had been seeing signs that were never really there, since now you're together with Robin." Sanji looked at him with a brittle expression that was so out of place on the spitfire Zoro had thought he knew so well.
"Of course I've been together with Robin, we've been working on something," Zoro said slowly, unsure why that was what the cook was focusing on. Sanji laughed mirthlessly.
"So you've said," he replied bitterly. Zoro felt like he was missing something pivotal. He decided to just get straight to the point.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked calmly.
"What do you think?" Sanji said heatedly. "You spend all your free time with her, even time you usually use for training. And always in the library, her personal space. Every time I turn around, the two of you are always together, and you actually read books with her. Books! You!"
"Hey!" Zoro squawked, mildly offended. Sanji continued on as if he hadn't heard him.
"You've been acting completely different, and it feels like there's no room for me anymore. I would never begrudge Robin, of course," he said solemnly. "She deserves everything she wants, even if it's you. I just..." He sighed, deflating.
Zoro stared at him, dumbstruck.
"When you say that Robin and I are together," he began disbelievingly, "you don't mean..." He couldn't even finish that ridiculous thought out loud. Ridiculous to him, maybe, but Sanji refused to meet his eye.
"Curly," he said slowly, "you do know that I like men, right?" The two of them hadn't ever discussed his sexuality, but Zoro had never hidden it from the crew. All of them had seen him chatting up different men at one point or another during their travels, even Sanji.
"I-I know," Sanji stammered, still not meeting his eye. "But I thought that, I don't know, maybe it’s different with Robin. That maybe she’s the exception."
Zoro laughed. "I don't think being gay works like that," he said drily.
"It does for some people, you idiot!" Sanji yelled. "At least, it does for me," he continued softly, as if to himself. His head shot up, a shocked look on his face. "I-I mean- That is- I—"
Zoro could barely hear his panicked stuttering over the sudden rush of blood in his ears. What did the cook mean by that? Even though there could be no doubt how much the other man loved women, was he actually saying that he had exceptions to his clear preference? That he also had men that he liked?
Or maybe not men, but a man. If that were true, then who— oh. His eyes widened, and his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. If he was reading the cook right…
"Sanji," he forced his name out in a strangled voice, "I'm not together with Robin. I promise, nothing could be further from the truth." His face felt like it would melt any moment with how hot it felt, but he pressed on. "You want to know what we've been working on? Let me show you," he said beseechingly.
Sanji finally looked at him, his own face flaming and the eye not hidden by his bangs looking cautiously hopeful. He gave a shaky nod. Zoro let out a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding.
"Okay," he exhaled again, returning Sanji's nod. "Okay. Let's go back to the Sunny, and I'll tell you everything."
They made their way back to the ship, the air between them charged. As they walked up the gangway, they could hear Brook playing in the background.
They went to the galley first to put away their groceries. They worked as a team: Zoro handing him things from this bag or that crate, and Sanji carefully placing each item where it belonged. When they’d finished, Sanji wiped his hands on a nearby dishcloth before looking at Zoro expectantly.
“…Right,” said Zoro nervously. He opened the galley door and let Sanji go in front of him for once, before stepping through himself. They walked across the deck and up the stairs to the library. As they entered, they discovered Robin already there. She smiled at Sanji in welcome, then turned to Zoro.
“I was able to find what we were looking for further inland. I’ve already given it to Usopp to get started. I think that we should talk to Luffy and Franky to finalize where to put everything,” she suggested.
Sanji looked questioningly at Zoro. The swordsman glanced at Robin, who nodded encouragingly. He took a deep breath.
“Your dream,” he began, looking Sanji right in the eye, “is to find the All Blue. And you’ll find it, Curly, no matter how long it takes.” His voice rang with conviction. Sanji held his gaze, attention rapt. Zoro continued, “But what if you could do more than just find it? What if you could become it?"
The cook stared at him as if he were insane. "Me, a person... become a mythical ocean. Have I kicked you in the head too many times?" Zoro ignored the insinuation that Sanji had gotten the upper hand in any of their fights.
“Think about it. We’re sailing all over world, to so many different islands with different climates and terrain and plants and animals. We resupply wherever we dock, and when we use up those supplies, we get new supplies from a new island in a new part of the ocean. But what if we saved some of our supplies each time? We already have the aquarium for fish, but we could do the same thing with crops, too. Keep them, collect them, grow them, to be used whenever we want. All of the world’s ingredients, all in one place—this ship.”
Sanji eyes filled with emotion as he started to realize what Zoro was saying.
Robin chimed in. “We wouldn’t be growing everything at once; there simply wouldn’t be enough space for that. But we’d be able to have a consistent rotation of fresh produce, grains, and legumes, with the option to plant more at any time. I’ve read about a fascinating practice that many farming communities use, especially in areas prone to difficult years. In those communities, the farmers all band together. Even though each farm might specialize in different crops, they share their resources—in particular, their seeds. After each farm saves the seeds to be used in future planting seasons, they donate a portion to a storehouse that everyone has access to. A seed library, if you will.”
“We can do that, too,” Zoro explained. “Create our own seed library, with the plants from every island we visit. Robin said she’ll help curate it, and she and the wi- Nami,” he corrected himself, a measure of his gratitude towards her in this instance, “will add all the details to the records they’ve already been keeping of each island we visit.
“Franky will build a greenhouse, somewhere with climate control, watering systems, and regulated sunlight so the plants won’t be affected by the weather of wherever we sail to. Usopp has already agreed to be in charge of the greenhouse, and he promised to teach me how to grow things so that I can help, too. We’ll never have to worry about fresh food again. Plus, think of what Zeff will say when you show him.”
Sanji laughed wetly.
“Did you… come up with all of this for me?” he asked. Color bloomed across Zoro’s cheeks, and he averted his gaze to the wall on his right.
“And for the crew, obviously,” he deflected weakly. He snuck a peek back at Sanji with his good eye. “But yeah, I saw how worried you were, and wanted to find some way to- mmph!” He was cut off by Sanji grabbing his face with both his hands and kissing him right there in front of Robin.
“Oh my,” she gasped in delight, then slipped out of the library to give them some privacy. They didn’t notice her absence until much, much later.
“You’re sure this is alright?” Sanji asked his crewmates for the hundredth time. “It’s such a big project, and however big the Sunny is, space is still limited.”
“Don’t you worry about space, Cook-bro,” Franky bellowed. “That’s my job, and I’m damn good at it! By the time I’m done, it will be like our super new greenhouse was always a part of the plan!” He gave two thumbs up, the left with his usual enormous hand, and the right with his mini hand that he currently had out to draft the blueprints.
“But-”
“Can it, Pretty Brows. We’re doing this,” Zoro overrode him with an air of finality. His cook spluttered at the nickname, while the witch and Longnose catcalled.
“Shishishi, of course we are! It’ll make Sanji happy,” Luffy reasoned, smiling widely.
Sanji’s eyes glistened at their captain’s simple declaration. Blinking his eyes a few times, he ruffled their captain’s hair affectionately. Then he reached over and ruffled Zoro’s, for good measure. He loudly announced that he was going to go prepare for the large barbecue he was planning tonight.
“Ooh, MEAT!” Luffy exclaimed, bouncing after him. Suddenly he stopped and looked at Robin and Nami. With a serious look in his eye, he told them, “If we find an island with a meat tree, we have to plant some of those, too. Okay?”
Sanji let out a bark of laughter, the sound continuing to bubble out of him until it had infected the rest of the crew. Zoro watched him, the love cook's head thrown back and eyes squeezed tight, and his heart swelled with affection. He looked forward to giving Sanji many more reasons to smile.