Chapter Text
The picture was a cheesy smile in front of a birthday cake. Sanji's blue eyes were more alight than the eighteen candles, looking right at the camera — at Zeff — with joy and love. Zeff's phone was ringing, and he'd been waiting for this call all day.
But he didn't want Sanji to know that, so he stared at the photo and let it ring five times before answering.
"What?" Zeff said, jamming the phone between his shoulder and ear, picking up the carrots and chopping away loudly.
"Shitty old man." Sanji's voice returned, and the tension fell out of Zeff's jaw. He hadn't truly thought that the eggplant would break down the moment he left home — but with how much kicking and screaming there was before he left, Zeff was worried perhaps some bullshit might prevent him from making it there.
"Did they feed you on the flight?" Zeff asked. He couldn't think about the little kid at his kitchen counter with ribs he could see through his shirt. Sanji was a grown man now. If they hadn't feed him, then he was perfectly capable of getting his own food.
"Pretzels." Sanji said. "I had the sandwich you snuck in my bag, don't worry."
Zeff snorted. "Wasn't me. Must've been Patty." Bless his heart. Zeff had been too busy making sure Sanji had packed enough winter clothing. He'd hid new socks into the suitcase pockets.
"No wonder it tasted like shit." Sanji said. Good. He ate it.
Zeff finished the line of carrots and swept them into a pot. "So? How is it?"
"I just got here." Sanji replied, annoyed. There was a thread of stress. The kid still wasn't sure about it, but at least he wasn't freaking out.
"And?" Zeff persisted, moving onto onions.
"My roommate is… nice." Sanji said, awkward. Never knew how to make friends his own age. "Well, actually, I'm pretty sure he's full of shit, he told me some story about how he carried the futon up the stairs by himself."
"Odd." Zeff remarked, because it was an odd thing to lie about.
"Yeah." Sanji said, then did a long exhale.
"Put that out." Zeff said, annoyed.
"I'm not smoking." Sanji said.
"Uh-huh." Zeff rightfully didn't believe him.
"Leave me alone. It's a busy day." Sanji complained.
Zeff scoffed back at him, struggling as always with mental image of burying his child due to lung cancer. Instead he said, "How are you going to make friends if you smell like shit?"
"I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to cook." Sanji said, exhaling slow again, the rat.
"So you'll be all alone in a big city by yourself? Huh? Idiot child." Zeff needled, trying to sound sarcastic instead of worried. The bite of it was sharper because of that.
Luckily or unluckily, Sanji knew better than to take the scorn at face value, "I'm going to be fine, old man. Anyway. I've got to go unpack."
Since Sanji flew instead of drove, he only had two suitcases with him. "Need anything?"
"Yeah, you to quit nagging me." Sanji laughed. "And don't let things fall apart while I'm gone."
Zeff laughed along. "I survived before you showed up at my door and I'll be just fine now. Make some friends, eggplant. At least try."
"Quit nagging me." Sanji said again, with less humour. "I'll talk to you later?"
"I'll be here." Zeff said, because he sure as hell wasn't going anywhere else. "Bye, eggplant."
"Bye, old man."
Sanji hung up. The phone screen cleared. Zeff stood in his kitchen making a meal for one for the first time in years, trying to ignore how his throat was just a bit tighter than it had been before he picked up the phone. Sue him for worrying, alright? He'd personally watched Sanji become the man he was today, and he wanted him to succeed. And that meant getting out of this town and into the city where he could get real certifications that would take him much further than the Baratie.
There was nothing Zeff could do now but listen to his side of the phone call. He had to have faith that Sanji could do this on his own. It would just be so much easier if the kid had friends, or else he'd be carrying a futon up the stairs by himself one day.
Zeff sighed, setting down his knife and blaming the onions for sniffing. He checked the time again, wondering if the cafeteria of the dorms would have anything good to eat. It was a shame there wasn't going to be any access to a kitchen, but Sanji refused any financial help from Zeff beyond what his scholarship was going to cover. Which meant dorms and meal plan. And the funds from his summertime job at the Baratie way above what Zeff usually paid, not that he told the eggplant that. Hopefully he'd have enough money to get by or reach out to Zeff if that wasn't the case.
After a moment, Zeff shook his head and returned to the onions. No, he would never ask. Zeff would just have to keep close tabs on him.
[]
Sanji called first thing in the morning. Zeff was driving to work for prep, still half asleep and nursing the coffee in his travel mug.
"My roommate is insane." Sanji hissed down the line, instead of 'hello'.
Zeff took a nice, long, sip of coffee before answering. "He's in good company, then."
"Shut up." Sanji snapped back. "I'm not like him. Do you know what he did in the cafeteria last night? He microwaved a hot dog for three minutes. Do you know what happens to hot dogs after three minutes in the microwave? They cease to exist in this physical world."
Zeff clicked his tongue. "Well. He sounds fun."
"And he won't stop telling me bullshit stories!" Sanji hissed louder. "This morning he told me he once floated off the top of Niagara Falls in a barrel!"
"I had a friend who did that once." Zeff said.
"Who?" Sanji demanded.
"Oh, from before your time." Zeff dismissed, thinking of his old crew and their stunts.
"Yeah, well, it sure as hell wasn't a lanky teenager from the other side of the country." The sound of audible footsteps back and forth on concrete. "I don't know if I can do this?"
Zeff knew it was fruitless to ask, but maybe he'd been worn down enough, "My offer to get you a one person apartment in town—"
"Stop that." Sanji said, sharp. "I don't want to owe you anything else."
Zeff scowled, equally annoyed. "I've told you a hundred times, shitty brat, you don't owe me anything."
Sanji scoffed, in the exact same way Zeff always did, loud and disbelieving. Neither of them said anything for a minute, the sound of Sanji's pacing and the car rumbling in the background.
When Zeff turned on the turn signal for the Baratie, Sanji sighed and stopped pacing. "I'm just being dramatic."
"You?" Zeff snarked.
"Jerk." Sanji said, without heat. "Whatever. I'm just saying, if I end up on the news, it's gonna be from this weirdo I'm living with."
"Bah! I'm sure your roommate could say the same thing. Did you bring your knives?"
"Of course I brought my knives." Sanji said, offended. As if it wouldn't be weird to have a knife-block with custom cooking blades in your dorm room. "He didn't seem to mind."
"Didn't seem to mind because he's also a culinary student or because he thinks you're going to eviscerate him in his sleep and doesn't want to piss you off?"
"Mmm." Sanji hummed, and finally there was some amusement in his tone. "Probably the second one. His knees were knocking, and he's an engineering student."
"Engineering student doesn't know how to microwave a hot dog?" Zeff said.
"Well, he hasn't actually attended any classes yet."
Defending him already. Zeff suspected that this roommate might work his way into Sanji's guarded heart if he was persistent enough.
"You're late." Sanji said, after another moment soaking in mutual silence.
Zeff glanced at the dashboard clock. It had just ticked one minute over the hour. He was sitting in the parking lot, car off, not moving. Every morning for the whole summer his kid had driven to work with him, the two of them sipping coffee and listening to classic rock. It had been less than twenty-four hours and he already missed Sanji. The phone-call told Zeff that Sanji missed him too.
"Can't be late when you own the place." Zeff drawled.
"You better go inside before Patty thinks you crashed your car." Sanji said, amused. Zeff was never late.
"Alright." Zeff relented. "If you need me and I don't answer my cell, just call the landline."
"Like hell I wanna talk to the peanut gallery. And I'm not going to need you. Everything is fine here."
Zeff pinched his brow. "Mhm. Don't kill anyone on the first day, kid."
"No promises." Sanji said. "Bye old man."
"Bye eggplant."
Zeff hung up and stared at the dashboard clock tick another minute later. He imagined his kid showing off his knife collection to a terrified roommate and laughed until he was in a better mood.
[]
It was three days later when Sanji called again. Zeff was shopping the markets on Saturday morning, in the September salt air of the pier. He glanced down at the beaming smile of his son on his photo and felt the ambient worry over the lack of contact ease. Then answered with, "What, too good for your old man already?"
"Oh my god, Zeff, it's been three days." Sanji scoffed.
Zeff didn't say — they'd seen each other pretty much every day since he rescued Sanji like a battered kitten off the side of the road and this whole thing was more painful that he thought. That when he was working he was distracted with thoughts of Sanji, alone, hungry, upset, lost in a new city surrounded by people who didn't care about him.
But Zeff knew Sanji was a strong boy long before Zeff took him in. It would be an insult to Sanji to suggest as much, let alone the guilt his son would carry if he knew how much Zeff was worrying since Sanji didn't even want to go in the first place and Zeff had to strong-arm him into it.
So Zeff said as he inspected a pile of fresh oranges, "Idiot. The crew has been pestering me non-stop about how it's going."
"Tell those lazy asses to get back to work and mind their own business." It was fond despite the words. "Are they giving you trouble without me? Come on, old man, you gotta keep them in line."
"The only thing you were good for was pissing customers off." Zeff said. "Hopefully that school is teaching you more."
"Hah! As if. You taught me way more than the ridiculous basics they're starting with. I could do these classes in my sleep."
"If you don't get the certification—"
"I heard you the first hundred times." Sanji cut him off, genuinely annoyed.
Zeff moved on, sitting on a bench in the wick of morning air. Sanji could've worked his whole life at the Baratie with only the training Zeff gave him, sure, but if he was missing the certifications he could never move further. Sanji insisted he didn't need to move further. Zeff wanted more for him than that.
There was no need to beat a dead horse. "How's the crazy roommate?"
"He's made crazy friends." Sanji said, deadpan. "One of them slept on our floor last night because he was locked out of his dorm. He climbed in through the window. Then he ate all of Usopp's snacks."
"Usopp?"
"My roommate. The friend is Luffy. I was offended on Usopp's behalf, but then Luffy dragged him to a waffle place to make up for it. Apparently he's got a rich family or something to pay for it, which makes sense considering how much I've seen him eat." Sanji explained, sounding idle but on edge. Sanji had an understandably wary history with 'rich families'.
"Did you go with them?" Zeff asked. Crows were gathering at his feet and cawing. He threw them some nuts, watching them peck.
"What?" Sanji said, as if he was an idiot.
"Oh, were you not invited?" Zeff said, betting on it. There was no way these kids who were in the glamour of new college experiences weren't inviting Sanji out to make friends. That was the whole point of being set free as a young adult.
"I… they asked, but I don't think they meant it. I was just there. I let them off the hook." Sanji sounded uncomfortable.
Zeff grunted. He mulled over how to approach the topic, since Sanji was two seconds away from getting snarly and defensive. "Dumbass. What, they only invited you out of pity? That's stupid. If they didn't want you to come, they wouldn't invite you. Otherwise how the hell could they get you to come along? You have to assume that people's intentions aren't so mean."
"I don't think they're being mean." Sanji defended, but with much less heat than it could've been. Unfortunately, Sanji's default assumption was that everyone didn't want him. It wasn't his fault. Zeff had been trying for years to break that mindset. It wasn't about to bend now. "I just haven't given them much reason to want me around, I guess. It's not like I want to be surrounded by crazy anyway."
Zeff rolled his eyes. The crows cawed, like they were laughing. Zeff agreed. "I repeat, dumbass. What, you're gonna make normal friends? You wouldn't know what to do with those. It's not like the crew here are a paragon of normal."
"They're not my friends, they're your employees."
Perhaps banging his head against a wall would be more productive. "Did you not hear me say they've been pestering me every five minutes about you? Christ on a cracker, kid. You're in a sullen mood today. Did you just call me to knock some sense into you? Because I'll tell you as many times as you need to hear it. People want to spend time with you."
Quiet. Zeff leaned back on the bench, feeling the ache in his knee and rubbing the joint of his prosthetic. This kid felt like he aged Zeff more every day.
"I dunno, Zeff." Sanji said finally.
Adulthood was all about figuring it out. No teenager wanted to hear that, however, and Zeff merely grunted again, pinching the old skin around his leg and massaging the scar tissue.
Sanji grunted back, mockingly.
"What do you want me to say? You never listen to your old man when he's right." Zeff complained.
"You're such a pain in the ass. I don't even know why I called you." Sanji complained in return. He changed the subject. "Has everything fallen apart there without me, then?"
"Psh. As if we needed you." Zeff said. "Besides, not even you could've stopped the new kid from starting a grease fire."
"You've told him a thousand times." Sanji commiserated. "Is it all a mess now?"
"Nah. Cleaned up. Gave the firemen a meal for their trouble. Never a dull moment."
"Yeah." Sanji said, fonder. "Well. Tell them all I say hi."
"I will not." Zeff sniffed, even though he would.
"I should go." Sanji said, not too enthused about the concept.
"Try to have some damn fun, okay?"
"I'm not here to have fun."
"God forbid you be a kid for once."
"Come on, Zeff." Sanji said, because he'd lived the kinds of things the kids around him would never have to experience.
But it didn't make Sanji less of a kid. "Don't be stupid."
"Shut up already, old man."
"Bye eggplant."
"Yeah, yeah. Bye."
Zeff waited until he hung up, then he folded his arms over the back of the bench to think. He didn't know how to help Sanji from afar, especially since ninety-percent of his hang-ups were all in his head.
Carne called Sanji 'an old soul'. Zeff thought it was a nice way of saying 'had to grow up too soon'. He'd worked his ass off at the Baratie for years and kept his head down in school until he graduated, a lonely existence with only grumpy old chefs for company. He understood not wanting to attract the attention of certain individuals, of that stupid damning sense that he owed Zeff for basic human decency, but it didn't mean that Sanji had to give up his life to being friendless and without any prospects.
Zeff sighed, weary, and picked up his bags to continue through the market. All he could do now was wait for the next phone call.
[]
Eleven PM on a Saturday. Zeff was on the couch, drowsing and watching an old movie on TV when his phone rang. He lifted his eyebrow when he saw Sanji's contact, wondering if he'd lost track of time or something -- when the kid first moved in, he never dared disturb Zeff past nine PM from fear of being annoying. Zeff had dissuaded him that he gave a shit about his sleep in the face of Sanji's needs, but that didn't mean it wasn't surprising that Sanji would call at this hour.
"What?" Zeff answered with a grunt, then added so Sanji would know he hadn't woken him, "You're making me miss the best part of Die Hard."
Silence. Zeff checked that he'd actually answered, just in time to hear a singular sniff.
"Aw, shit." Zeff turned the movie off and leaned forward with his arms braced against his knees. "Hey eggplant."
Another sniff, more miserable than the last. Sloppy. Zeff saw the kid cry more than once but it was never easy to hear. He still didn't say anything.
Zeff sighed, staring at the blank TV screen and imagining Sanji's face. His eggplant. Sometimes it took all his will power not to commit crimes that would send him back to jail for those who hurt him.
But Sanji needed him more than he needed another person to leave him. He didn't push, instead breathing slow and controlled down the line until Sanji sucked in his own inhale -- shaky. Lost.
"Can I come home?" Sanji asked, and damn Zeff's old heart for wringing like that. It was gonna be the death of him.
"Sanji." Zeff said.
"Please?" Sanji sniffed again. The wobbly tone of his voice also slurred a little. Under the influence? Beyond cigarettes, Sanji had never shown any interest in such vices. Or maybe he just never had access — Zeff only had cooking wine at home.
"What's going on?" Zeff said, instead of answering. He tried to stay gruff sounding in the face of Sanji's misery, because too much compassion would just unravel him further. His sensitive little eggplant. Complicated and sweet. Somehow still so good after his upbringing.
The next sniff broke into more of a sob. "I just want to come home. Please."
"You've never given up on anything." Zeff scoffed, prodding. "Tell me what happened, eggplant."
"Nothing happened." Sanji choked on the words. "I'm just not cut out for -- this."
"This?" Zeff asked, because it sure as hell wasn't cooking related. Sanji knew he was good, that was never the issue.
"I got in a fight." Sanji said, louder. Upset. "Okay? I got in a fight with some guy over something stupid and now they're all gonna hate me."
Zeff cast his eyes to the ceiling, as if Sanji bickering with someone was something new. "Did you win?"
"I -- I don't know."
Zeff raised his eyebrows. Sanji learnt everything that Zeff ever knew about fighting, which was a lot, and he certainly was no slouch if it was a physical fight. "Back up -- are you hurt?"
Sanji made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a sob. "As if it's half as bad as I used to get. We weren't like, trying to hurt each other, just win. If that makes sense. But I got a split lip anyway. Bastard."
Well now Zeff was even more confused. "It was a physical fight but you weren't trying to hurt each other?"
"You haven't answered me." Sanji evaded. "I can't stay here. Usopp is friends with them, I can't go back to that dorm and face him. I'm not cut out for this, can I please, please come home?"
Zeff squeezed his eyes shut. It was too late for this nonsense. How could he tell Sanji had to stay without poking the sore spot of denying him the home Zeff gave him after he was kicked from his own? These were the kinds of questions that weren't in any parenting books. Carne was right, he should've just gotten a cat.
"If I start driving now, I'd be there by morning." Zeff told him, listening to the shaky breathing on the other end. "I'd call the crew to cover, family emergency. Your two suitcases would fit in my trunk. If you drove on the way back, we'd be home before the restaurant opens the next day. I'd take my sous chef back. We'd call and get your scholarship cancelled. That could all be done. You could come home at any time, eggplant. I'm not going anywhere."
Quiet. Sanji said, quiet, "But?"
"You already know." Zeff replied.
"Fuck you." Sanji said.
Zeff bore the curse without retaliation. Waiting.
"You'd come?" Sanji asked next.
"I'd grab my keys and be out the door in five minutes."' Zeff said. "You'd have to listen to me bitch about my aching back the whole ride home."
"Would you tell me it was a mistake?"
The quiet of the house was too much without the teenager curled in his armchair eating popcorn. "Idiot."
Momentary truce while Sanji sniffed and snuffled, hopefully cleaning up the sopping mess he became while crying. Zeff knew he hated it, memories of his family calling him a crybaby. Zeff watched him break a toe while practicing kicks and not even flinch, but Zeff was one of the only people Sanji allowed to see the more fragile side of his rampant emotions beyond annoyed outbursts and swears.
Listening to the struggle it took to pull himself back together, if Zeff could see him in person he'd give one of his crushing hugs. It had been a while since Sanji had needed one. Zeff just had to believe in Sanji's strength, his resilience, and his stubborn persistence.
"You'd come?" Sanji said again, but it was quietly more composed. Less gasping-for-air hiccups.
"The devil himself couldn't stop me." Zeff said, on edge, wondering if he was going to have to get up off this comfy couch and drive all night instead of going to bed.
But no. He had faith in his eggplant. He didn't survive all that to quit now. Maybe he just needed a poke right in his competitive bone. "It would probably mean you did lose that fight though, if you ran."
"You bastard." Sanji said, with far more life.
Zeff shrugged, smiling now, relieved. "What? Seems to me you better stick around and kick his ass properly, if there's any doubt. I taught you better than that, didn't I?" He slipped into teasing, feeling the fragile nature of the phone call fade as he said, "Unless you want me to come up there and kick his ass for you?"
"The last thing I need is an old man fighting my battles for me."
"Well then."
Sanji sniffed wetly then blew his nose.
"Are you drunk?" Zeff asked.
"Barely." Sanji replied. "Okay, maybe a little. It didn't help the situation."
Judging by the consistent slur in his words, 'maybe a little' was maybe a lot. "Drink water before you go to sleep, eggplant. And call me in the morning."
"Clingy, are we?" Sanji snarked.
"Call me or I'll drive up there to check on you myself."
"Bastard."
"Idiot."
"G'night."
"Water. I'm serious. Go."
Sanji hung up on him. Zeff pulled the phone away and tossed it to the side, exhaling hugely. He rubbed both hands down his face.
[]
When Sanji hadn't phoned by eleven the next day, Zeff called him before the lunch rush at work. He pulled out his cell in the walk-in freezer and leaned against the door.
"What, shitty old man?" Sanji answered on the second ring.
"Oh, you are alive." Zeff said, mild, even though he'd thought about alcohol poisoning most of the night. He'd lost a few friends that way, alright?
"Of course I'm alive. Christ, it's bright. I don't have to be awake yet, you know."
"Lazing around until noon? Tsk." Zeff started rearranging the shelves since he was already in there.
"You're right, I'll just go to work — oh wait, you fired me and sent me to college."
"Ah yes, I'm the jerk in this situation."
Sanji groaned, loud and hamming it up.
"So? What's the verdict? Now, that you've gotten some sleep and you're no longer wasted, is it the end of the world?"
A muttered answer under his breath.
"What's that? Can't hear you kid." Zeff said, but he was grinning, because he knew.
"No." Sanji said. "I'm gonna stick it out."
"Good." Zeff said, undeniably pleased. "Now get out of bed and go eat some damn breakfast. It'll help with your hangover."
There was the sound of possibly suffocating with a pillow.
Zeff hung up and returned to work, finding all the heads of his crew watching as he exited the freezer. He snapped, "Get back to work, you hooligans!"
Patty slid up next to Zeff at the prep station, unmoved by the reprimand. "You've been tense all morning. Brat okay?"
"Pah!" Zeff whipped a knife in his direction. "Of course he is."
Patty's shoulders relaxed despite the sharp object in his proximity.
[]
Luckily for Zeff's sanity, the next time that he spoke to Sanji it wasn't nearly as fraught. His phone rang just as he was leaving the Baratie a few days later.
"What?" Zeff said, pulling his keys out of his pocket and getting a face-full of rain before he made it to his car.
"Should've brought an umbrella." Sanji said in his ear from hundreds of miles away, cheerful about it.
Zeff slumped into his driver's seat, grateful for a moment to have his voice along for the ride, as if Sanji was climbing in his car after the shift alongside him again. The windows were fogged and streaked with rain. "Got cameras on me or something?"
"Nah. I just have a weather app." Sanji said.
In all his moments of missing Sanji and pretending he didn't, he forgot that Sanji would be missing him too. Zeff pulled up his weather app for a moment, where he also had the weather for a city hundreds of miles away pinned at the top. Cool and clear sky.
"Get in any more fights?" Zeff asked, starting his car and setting his phone on speaker in the cup-holder.
"Hah, nearly." Sanji scoffed, but it was in good humour. "I didn't tell you the whole story, did I?"
"You said you got your ass kicked." Zeff said, to be an asshole.
"As if, old man!" Sanji gave a long exhale, so he was smoking. "No, I had let Luffy strong arm me into coming out with them."
"Luffy?" Zeff couldn't remember which one that was.
"The weird guy who slept on our floor, he adopted Usopp into his friend group on like the third day of class. And the most angelic lady named Nami is with them, so I tagged along."
If there was anything that could convince Sanji to put himself out there, it would be a girl. Zeff chuffed a small laugh, but didn't otherwise interrupt.
"But they also have this… moss-headed jock, who was being a dick to Nami. And I wouldn't stand for it. So we fought and I embarrassed myself in front of everyone because Nami wasn't pleased that we caused a scene and got kicked out." Sanji sighed, taking another moment inhale.
"Put that out." Zeff snapped.
"I'm not smoking." Sanji lied. "Anyway. I guess they weren't that put off, because Luffy showed up and dragged me to dinner with them the next night. We hit up some food trucks. Ever thought about serving street food?"
"In my nightmares, maybe." Zeff said. That amount of close contact with his crew would end in so many murders. "So you're all friends now?"
"Hm." Sanji breathed. More smoke, surely. "I dunno. It's hard to say no to Luffy. He's… contagious. Infectious? Something like that. I'm sure my novelty will wear off soon."
"Idiot." Zeff told him. "And what about the moss-headed jock?"
"I think he's annoying. But he was bugging me because we got kicked out before we could finish our fight and was trying to convince me to arm wrestle him to prove who's stronger."
"And you wouldn't?"
Sanji's voice twisted like it hurt him to admit, "His bicep is like the size of my head. I told him we'd have to leg wrestle, and he was like, way too down. I didn't entertain it. I don't get him. But I'm glad he's not sour about the fight, because it seems like I'm gonna be seeing them at lot thanks to Usopp."
Zeff would bet his abnormally large hat that Usopp wasn't the only reason these people wanted to hang out with his boy. Sanji was charming and kind and competitive, there was no way they didn't like him too.
Sanji wouldn't want to hear it, and wouldn't believe it even if Zeff could manage to say something that sentimental. So instead he said, "Sounds like pigtail pulling to me."
"Please never say that to me again." Sanji groaned. "He's so annoying. I don't even want to think about it. I never should've told you anything."
Last Christmas, the two of them had a quiet dinner at home and then spent the rest of the holiday preparing food for a soup kitchen. For them, the familiar back and forth of cooking was more peaceful than any time off from work. With Sanji at his elbow as they created hot food for poor souls on the loneliest time of year, his eggplant had asked him if it would change anything if he liked both boys and girls.
Zeff had raised an eyebrow. "Everyone likes both, don't they?"
Sanji stared back at him. "I can't tell if you're messing with me."
Zeff laughed and wrangled Sanji under his arm, the kind of hug he gave when his kid's voice started to shake with nerves. And he felt him relax into the touch, because it was okay. And Zeff wasn't messing with him.
The dark and quiet house appeared in the distance and Zeff pulled into the driveway. He put the car in park but didn't turn it off.
"You're home." Sanji guessed. Maybe the sound of his old car shifting gears. Or maybe he had an app for that too.
"You're still smoking." Zeff replied, because he'd heard the lighter flick for another one.
Sanji sighed. "This just all takes a bit of getting used to. I'd rather be there, you know."
"I know. Buck up, kid. It builds character."
"I literally hate you."
"I know that too."
"Heh. Bye old man.
"Bye eggplant."
Sanji hung up. Zeff sat in his driveway listening to the rain and the rattling heater. Then he went inside, alone but happier.
[]
"There's someone here looking for Sanji." A young server leaned his head in the door.
"Tell them he's gone." Zeff grunted, not looking up from his flambé.
"She's not taking no for an answer."
Zeff's heart sunk. That kind of behaviour came from a group of people that Zeff didn't want to meet. He almost considered sending her off without a word, but knowing them the escalation would be worse.
"Fine." Zeff set down his pan. "Take over, two more minutes."
"Yes chef." The cook beside him replied. Zeff strode from the hot kitchen into the cool AC of the front of house, heart pumping before he even saw her pink hair.
"Reiju." Zeff grunted, not happy to see her in the slightest despite being the nicest of Sanji's blood family. It didn't mean much, in his mighty opinion.
"Zeff." Reiju inclined her head. She had an umbrella folded neatly at her side, black and dripping, and her eyes were steely and cool. "Where is my brother?"
"Nice of you to call him brother now." Zeff was unable to stop himself from sniping without Sanji there. "He's not here."
The cold eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
Zeff spread his calloused hands. "What do you think I mean? He's not here."
For a moment, the two stood in the chatter and warm atmosphere of the Baratie. His shoulders were tense, looking at the face of the person who could swoop in and ruin everything Sanji had built. The kid always had a soft spot for his sister, since she was something Sanji called kind and Zeff called absolute bare human decency.
"Forgive me," Reiju said, straightening her spine and meeting his vitriol with her own. "But I was under the impression that Sanji wanted to be here with you. So why is he not?"
Zeff knew that Sanji trusted her. But he didn't, and he wasn't about to give up his son's location to someone who allowed so much hurt to happen in his life when he'd only managed to get free physically but never mentally. "That's his decision. Why do you want to know?"
Reiju scanned his face. Then her jaw tensed, and she said, "I need to talk to him."
"I'll pass a message along." Zeff replied, dry as a bone.
The biting scoff cut over the wine and dining behind them. Reiju tapped her umbrella to the floor and sent a shower of raindrops to his floor. "Give me his number."
"If you don't already have his number," Zeff leaned in to glare, letting his teeth show. "Then I'm not giving it to you."
Reiju was not intimidated. But Zeff heard about her family, so that didn't surprise him. The two had a nasty staring contest, and Zeff had nothing to gain by giving in, so he didn't. After a long minute, Reiju clicked her tongue irritably, otherwise keeping her cool expression.
"I'm here to warn him." Reiju said at last.
Zeff's heart sunk even further, past his toes. Exactly what he didn't want to hear. "He's an adult now, you know. Judge can't touch him."
Reiju gave one icy laugh. "Do you really believe that?"
No. Zeff didn't. He'd never been able to legally adopt Sanji as Judge never renounced his parental rights. "Judge wanted him to never acknowledge he was a Vinsmoke again. Why would he want him now?"
"Because he has something to gain." Reiju said, simply.
"Fucking shit." Zeff swore and turned away, stomach twisting. The only solace they'd had was Judge's lack of interest in Sanji's existence post-exile. He was rich and powerful and had the capability to screw Sanji royally.
"So where is he?" Reiju asked, unmoved as ever. The uncharitable part of himself shot her another poisonous glare. She still didn't flinch.
"He's left town." Zeff allowed. "And no, I'm not telling you more. I can pass a message along."
"Difficult." Reiju said. "Whatever. Fine. I'm putting my neck out coming to see him like this, you know. Tell him that Judge is thinking about using him to secure a political alliance. I've tried to talk him out of it, but there's still a chance he'll go through with it."
That was probably the worst case scenario. Zeff's hands curled into fists at his side. "And what do you want him to do?"
"Well, if he declines, I suspect that Judge would make his life hell. And yours."
"Mine?" Zeff wondered, annoyed.
Reiju eyed the restaurant around her. "It wouldn't be hard to get this place shut down. Maybe frame you for something that gets you back in prison."
Any threats on Sanji himself were likely just to piss him off, but if they dragged Zeff into the matter, he'd buckle like a wet paper towel. "Gee, feels like your warning is more like an ultimatum."
"I'm realistic." Reiju said. "Perhaps it's for the best that Sanji isn't around. Is he still using Black?"
Forbidden to use Vinsmoke, Sanji had spent the last decade under his mother's maiden name. "Hm."
"It wouldn't take our father long to find him."
Zeff glanced back at his kitchen. There was a few pairs of eyes peeking through the window, curious about his extended absence. He crossed his arms over his chest, fed up with this conversation. "I'm still not hearing any solutions. What do you suggest he do?"
And Reiju… hesitated.
"Ah." Zeff's eyes flashed. "Were you here to warn him at all? Or to convince him to go?"
"I want to warn him." Reiju didn't back down in the slightest. "He's my brother. Pass along the message."
Then she turned and left, popping up the umbrella and disappearing her shadow into the dreary sidewalk out the front window.
"Chef?" Patty said, when Zeff reentered the kitchen with his own personal stormcloud. "Who was that?"
"Mind your business." Zeff said, too wound up. "Keep to your stations. I need to make a phone call."
"Oh, what's happening with the brat now?" Patty asked, pretending to be annoyed. It didn't work and Zeff didn't have the time. He took his anger cloud out the back door and stood in the alleyway. Perhaps he understood in that moment that a cigarette might be nice.
Sanji answered on the fourth ring. "What, shitty old man?"
It was loud in the background. The most prominent sound was peels and peels of laughter. Even Sanji himself sounded amused, over the front of his curt greeting.
"Blow my ear out, why don't you?" Zeff grumbled, as someone screamed.
"Sorry, that's Luffy." Sanji didn't sound that sorry. He was suffocating another laugh. "You're calling me during the dinner rush. Has the kitchen exploded?"
"Is that your dad?" Another person crowed, excited. "Can I say hi?"
"You just did." Sanji said, but still repeated, "Chopper says hi."
"Chopper's a new one." Zeff leaned against the brick wall and put his head in his free hand. The weight of his chef hat tipped his chin down further.
"He says hi back." Sanji told the friend. They cheered.
"Why did you call him shitty?" A feminine voice asked. "That's not very nice."
"Ah, my dear, that's because he's not very nice." Sanji's tone changed entirely, the prick.
"Rude." Zeff scoffed.
"I thought you said that he means the world to you?" Another voice asked, confused.
Sanji stammered. Zeff's ears heated up. He spat, "Quit lying to your friends."
"They're not — anyway. What do you need?" Sanji was flustered. It would be fun if it wasn't for the infuriating conversation he'd just had with his sister.
"Oh my god, Luffy, no!" Someone yelled, then the phone was incomprehensible chaos. Zeff had to wait, as Sanji was laughing too hard to talk.
And Zeff stared at the opposite wall in dread, because he couldn't burst this bubble. He hadn't heard Sanji laugh that carefree — well, ever. It broke his heart a little. And to think that Judge wanted to take that away? Again?
There was no way. He couldn't do it.
"I'll let you get back to it, kid." Zeff said, shoulders dropping, resigned to keeping this to himself.
"What?" Sanji was confused, understandably.
"I gotta get back to work." Zeff dismissed. "It's the dinner rush, you know."
"Okay? Are you sure? I could—"
"Take care of yourself. Bye, eggplant."
Another roar of laughter in the background. Zeff's heart was still coming down from pumps of adrenaline when he hung up, thinking about steely eyes and pink hair and the fragile peace he'd cultivated with Sanji over the last decade. And how it was a house of cards, ready to fall.
The contact photo beamed up at him. Sanji, blowing out candles. Sanji, his son not in blood but everything else. Sanji, who deserved to be happy.
Zeff's fingers curled around his phone and he made a private vow that he wouldn't let anything wipe that smile off his face. Never again.