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Red-Leg Zeff had only beed dead a few months when Baratie was starting to get a steady stream of customers. His new peg leg was still something he was adjusting to, and some days when the lingering pain got too bad, he left Sanji and the few other cooks they'd managed to hire in the kitchen while he rested for a while in his room.
He was just about to get settled on his back when loud footsteps thundered up the steps and his door was thrown open.
"Boss Zeff!"
He groaned and sat up, reaching for his hat. "What is it?"
"There's a problem in the dining hall! One of the customers wasn't happy with his meal and attacked the kid!"
"Sanji?" He was up and hurrying down the stairs before he could think twice.
On the way down, the aches in his joints and muscles grew. He clenched his teeth and stepped into the dining hall where a customer sitting by one of the windows was glaring down at Sanji, who was pushing himself off the floor.
Despite nearing eleven years at this point, the kid was still small for his age. But he was getting better at standing up for himself, so that was something.
"What the hell is he doing out of the kitchen?" Zeff sighed.
Behind him, Patty cleared his throat. "The guy down there demanded to talk to the person who made his meal. Said some of it was raw."
Zeff frowned.
"You wanna say that again, punk?" The customer demanded. He was a pirate, old, but Zeff had never seen the guy. He was either new to the game or from a different Blue.
"Gladly you old fart!" Sanji wiped blood from his nose. "The food I make isn't raw! I'm the best chef here!"
"That so?" He glared harder, the tension growing stronger in Zeff's body, he felt heavier.
He would have dismissed it as concern for the boy if it weren't for the fact that some customers seemed to also be in pain. A woman flexed her wrists, a man rubbed at his shoulder blades. Sanji winced as he tried to stand. He took large, heavy breaths, and the customer stepped forward.
Zeff took a step down the stairs and damn near fell over. He clutched the railing as the weight around him in the air increased. He wasn't so old yet that he should be struggling on the stairs. A fight between a cook and a customer wouldn't be tolerated no matter which side was in the wrong, but he couldn't get up and stop it. Every muscle burned and ached.
"If you're the best chef," The pirate grabbed the front of Sanji's shirt. "Then everyone here is worse than you, right?"
"That's right!" Sanji shouted. "So take back what you said about my food!"
The air shifted, like a wall closing in, but passing through Zeff. The customers all seemed to relax a bit,a side from the tension watching as Sanji and the customer glared daggers at each other.
"Do you feel that?" The pirate asked, a smile wide on his face. "Heavy, right?"
"What did… you do?" Sanji gasped a few times.
"What's going on, boss?" Patty whispered.
Zeff coughed once and got himself vertical again. "The man has a Devil Fruit."
"What do we do?"
"Go find a bucket and fill it up outside."
He ran down the stairs, hurrying for the door as Zeff stormed across the floor. The pirate side-eyed him before pulling a pistol from his belt. Sanji gripped the hand holding him up, leaving light red scratches on the skin.
"Put the boy down," Zeff demanded. "Take your complaint out on me."
"Stupid geezer!" Sanji coughed. "Don't!"
"You wanna get shot? Fine. But it's not a pleasant experience," Zeff took a step forward and slammed into the ground. Ringing exploded in his ears as he tried to stand, only to fall over again. His peg leg had been shot through.
"Stay out of this," The pirate warned. "This brat's got an ego, needs to be taught a lesson."
"You're the one who needs a lesson!" Sanji shouted.
"If you're the best cook here, then that means you and all the others who make food and claim to be the best in the East Blue are just failures."
He threw Sanji hard into the ground and opened his palms. The air around them rippled, and as he tried to stand again, blood violently spurted from Sanji's nose. He coughed and moved to wipe it, then his breaths became thin. Zeff tried to stand but the pirate closed one fist and the weight of the air pressed his body down.
"Not fun to pick on me, is it?" The pirate grabbed a fistful of Sanji's hair. "I ate the Pressure-Pressure Fruit. I can change the barometric pressure around me, and you… little failure of a chef… have just experienced the change from the type of pressure you'd get at the bottom of the ocean, to suddenly being on top of the Red Line."
Sanji whimpered and grabbed for the pirate's hand, leaving another scratch on his arm before going limp. Zeff would kick the shit out of this pirate for causing a scene and making a mess in his restaurant if he could just move his damn body.
Patty splashed a bucket of water over him and the pressure dropped.
Sanji woke up on Zeff's back, his arms held gently in one hand and blood seeping into the back of his shirt. Zeff's other hand was braced over a crutch as he hobbled up the stairs.
"What happened?"
Zeff turned his head just a bit. "Damn Devil Fruit. Think you can keep cooking today?"
Sanji grunted and looked around. The world seemed to spin and spin endlessly. He closed his eyes and buried his face in Zeff's back. His stomach was spinning as much as the Baratie and he could taste his breakfast in his throat. And his head hurt.
"Talk to me, Little Eggplant."
Sanji grunted again and felt his eyes water. "I feel sick."
"Well we don't want that being passed on to the customers, now, do we?" Zeff sighed. "To bed with you now."
He coughed and Zeff's shirt got bloody again.
"One of the customers should be a doctor," He muttered as he stepped into Sanji's room.
"Sorry," Sanji buried his face again. "I messed up."
"You didn't. I know you're a better cook than that bastard says."
"But he's right. I am a failure."
"And who told you that?"
Sanji clenched his jaw. His father and brothers' words haven't left him. He thought once he was free of them he'd be free of the pain. Why wasn't he better yet?
Zeff steadied him on his feet and walked him over to his bed. "Stay here until you feel better. Don't come down crying or throwing up."
He nodded and climbed into bed. "Are you bringing a doctor here?"
Zeff paused, but nodded. Sanji curled into the sheets more.
"You need to see one or you won't get better."
"I know."
"Then stop being so afraid. What's scarier to you, the doctor or dying?"
"Dying."
"Good. Now rest until I come back."