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“We should make a Strawhat drinking game,” Nami says, taking a sip. “Drink every time Luffy falls in the ocean.”
It’s a late night, the Merry now docked at a new summer island with a town they all agreed to explore in the morning. Zoro laughs from where he’s seated across from her at the galley table, and he can hear Sanji snicker from where he’s taking inventory in the pantry.
“Or every time Chopper yells for a doctor.” Zoro adds, raising his glass.
“Every time you find one of Robin’s eyeballs around the ship.”
“Every time Usopp lies.”
“Every time Luffy picks his nose.”
“Every time the cook swears.”
Sanji pokes his head out of the pantry, glaring. “How about every time the idiot moss says something idiotic?”
Nami rolls her eyes while Zoro returns the glare, biting back a grin.
“Every time the cook yells about manners.” Zoro continues.
“Every time mosshead wears the same unwashed underwear.” Sanji retorts.
“Every time the cook falls in love.”
“I only fall in love very rarely with beautiful women who deserve it.” Sanji says, adjusting his tie. “Like the wonderful Nami-san!”
Nami preens and lifts her now empty glass. “Could you make me another drink, Sanji?”
“Of course, my sweet!” The cook swoons, taking her glass and twirling away.
“What about mine, cook?” Zoro asked, lifting his own empty bottle.
“Get it yourself!”
Nami smirks at him and he grumbles. “Witch.”
“Call Nami that again and you’ll have to deal with me, shitty swordsman!” Sanji shouts from where he’s mixing her cocktail.
“Right. Because you’re in love with her.” Zoro deadpans.
“I’ll do anything for love,” the cook says, puffing out his chest as he pours the liquid into Nami’s glass. He picks it up carefully and places it down before her with a flourish. “Not that a mosshead like you would ever understand the appeal of romancing a beautiful lady.”
“Well, seeing as I’m only into guys I guess that’s true.” Zoro scoffs, making Nami snort.
“He’s got you there,” Nami laughs, “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t know already–Sanji?” She cuts herself off, concern on her face as she stares at the cook.
He looks…
Well.
Here’s the thing.
Almost everything Zoro says makes the cook upset, it was simply their dynamic. He said he wasn’t lost, the cook got angry. He said he was a better fighter, the cook got angry. He said he didn’t care about keeping the men’s cabin clean, the cook got angry.
At first he’d thought that swooning and rage were the only two emotions Sanji possessed. It wasn’t until months after knowing the other man that Zoro was able to parse his different moods and faces
For example, he would say he’s hungry and the cook would scowl and bitch at him, but he’d rush to whip up a snack for everyone. It was a kind of “mock-anger” that Zoro loved to bite back at. It didn’t even create tension among the crew, instead helping the dynamic they already had before he joined.
Zoro got to have an outlet and training partner, Nami got to yell at them for fighting, Luffy got to laugh at them, and Usopp got practice running for cover.
It still worked when two new crew members joined; Robin got entertainment, and Chopper got practice treating bruises and scolding them. It was perfect.
With all the time Zoro and the cook spent together, he became very experienced differentiating between when Sanji was actually angry, when he wanted a spar, and when he was yelling by reflex.
That’s why he can tell that it’s not anger on the cook’s face right now.
It’s disgust.
Zoro has seen the expression many times. When a man was rude to a woman, when he looked at the color of the washbin water after doing Zoro’s laundry, when he was stomping on the skull of an enemy… Sanji’s sneers were as common as anything.
But this face, this disgust, was quiet. Subtle.
A kind of cold revulsion that was usually only warranted around rotten food and infected wounds.
All because Zoro mentioned he was gay.
“What?” He snaps, suddenly feeling defensive. “Got a problem with that?”
Sanji, who’d been staring at Zoro, wearing that expression , seems to snap out of it.
“Oh. Uh, no.” He grimaced, then turned and walked back to the pantry. He pulls out a notepad, presumably containing notes on their remaining rations, and shuts the door.
“I’ll just, uh. I’m tired, so I’m gonna head to bed.” He begins to walk past them, but Zoro snags his arm impulsively, bringing him to a stop.
“What’s your–”
“Fuck off,” Sanji hisses, jerking his arm away with enough force that he stumbles.
Nami stands up, confused. “Sanji…”
But the cook is already gone, the galley door slamming shut behind him.
Zoro and Nami look at each other.
“What the fuck was that?!” She whisper-yells at him.
“How would I know?!” Zoro yells back, equally stunned.
“Does he, I mean, is he–”
“Homophobic?” Zoro growls. “I should have figured. The only thing the cook cares about is his own masculinity.”
Nami gives him a flat stare. “You know that’s not true. And I’m not sure that he’s actually homophobic. He had no problem with me kissing Vivi.”
“A straight man not having a problem with two women kissing is very different from being okay with men liking men.” Zoro points out.
“I know.” Nami sighs. “I just get the feeling there’s more to this. He looked kind of pale, right before he left.”
Zoro scoffs. “Probably just grossed out at having a gay man touch him.”
Nami’s stares into her glass, pressing her fingers against the condensed water outside of it. “If that’s the case,” she says, “then I’ll be the one to teach him a lesson about manners.”
Zoro feels a chill roll down his spine.
As much as he’d love to see that– and he really would –he can’t help but focus more on what their future would look like if the cook really is a bigot.
Would this end up becoming a big deal? They’d have a hard time finding a new cook if Sanji ended up leaving. It’d be even harder to find someone strong enough to cover his back in a fight.
Goddammit , he thinks, why couldn’t I have prepared for this?
He didn’t think he would have to. Not many pirate crews even care about sexual orientation. Being a pirate is about being free, or at least on Luffy’s crew it is.
He’d shoved the emotion down in the moment, but it had stung deeply to be looked at like that.
Now, it just pisses him off.
***
“You gonna talk to him?” Nami’s whisper tickles his ear, making him wince.
“Yes, shut up. As soon as everyone leaves.” Zoro whispers back, annoyed.
The crew is just finishing up lunch, delicious bacon and chicken sandwiches with an avocado spread. It's been a few days since Zoro’s last conversation with the cook, and it’s pretty apparent why.
If they were at sea, this conversation could’ve happened much sooner; Zoro not having to worry about a huge island for the cook to escape to. Not that he’s looking forward to this conversation much himself. He sighs, crossing his arms and waiting for the rest of the crew to file out of the galley. Nami pats his shoulder as she gets up to leave.
“Luffy, stay there for a second,” Sanji calls from the kitchen. He’s running something under the faucet, the water splashing a bit on his pink apron.
Their captain, who’d been excited to run outside with Usopp and Chopper, slumps back in his chair. “Whyyy?” He whines.
Sanji returns to the table, carrying a wet cloth. “You’re covered in crumbs, idiot,” He says, taking one of Luffy’s hands and wiping it down. “And bacon grease. Do you always have to make such a mess?”
Their captain just shrugs.
After Sanji finishes cleaning off his hands, he wipes quickly around Luffy’s mouth, making him cringe and laugh.
“All done,” the cook says, patting him on the head. “Don’t play too rough, okay?”
“Okay!” Luffy beams. “Thanks, Sanji!” He gets up quickly and races out the door, already yelling to the others.
The cook huffs, a fond smile on his face as he goes to gather the plates on the table. He reaches for Zoro’s and their eyes meet. Sanji freezes, the plates rattling quietly where they’re stacked in his hand.
“Marimo.” Sanji says, cautious.
“Cook.” Zoro responds.
Sanji looks back down, picking up Zoro’s plate and adding it to his stack. He spins around and walks to the sink, placing the dishes on the counter left of the sink. He turns the faucet on, filling the basin with water. Then he shifts his attention back to Zoro, leaning his hip against the edge.
Sanji rubs his fingers together, a tick Zoro knows he only does when he wants a cigarette. He wouldn’t smoke in the galley though, so Zoro figures he’d have to make this quick before Sanji escapes outside again.
“You’d make a good housewife, cook,” Zoro says. He really can’t help but antagonize him.
The cook’s cheeks redden, but he surprisingly doesn’t scream at him. “I would,” he agrees, spinning back towards the sink and shutting off the faucet. “I do enough of you idiot’s chores to be an expert in housework at this point.”
Zoro opens his mouth to respond, but Sanji continues.
“You’re here for an apology, right? Well, I’m sorry.” The cook’s not looking at him. His hands are clenched around the counter’s edge, the rag he used to wipe Luffy’s face is floating in the water.
Zoro pushes down his relief. It feels too easy, the cook almost never apologizes to anyone besides the girls.
“I want an explanation, not an apology.”
Sanji scoffs, releasing the counter and grabbing a plate and the cloth. “Well, you’re shit out of luck then, Marimo.” He dips the plate into the water and begins scrubbing far more furiously than he needs to, the only thing on the plate being breadcrumbs.
Zoro can feel his anger rising. He gets up from the table and places his hand on Wado’s hilt. “Then what the hell are you apologizing for?”
The cook glances at him, and lets go of the plate and cloth, taking his hands out of the water. He turns and snags a dry rag from the oven door handle and starts drying his hands.
“I need a cigarette,” he says, throwing the rag onto the counter and walking past him.
Before he can get far, Zoro snatches his arm, a mirror to a few nights before. This time the cook lets him, though he looks beyond irritated.
Sanji takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring. “I’m done with this conversation,” he says slowly, as though he’s trying to contain an outburst. Zoro wonders why he’d bother.
“What? Don’t want to talk to a gay man?” He prods.
Sanji grimaces, yanking his arm back, but Zoro’s hold tightens.
“I don’t care if you’re fucking gay,” the cook hisses, raising his knee in warning.
“Then why are you making that face?!” Zoro snaps, releasing his arm.
The cook’s expression is twisted into a sneer, his contempt apparent. His glare hardens and he takes a step back.
“I’m not making a fucking face!” He hisses. “I just don’t want–!” He cuts himself off, teeth gritted.
“What?” Zoro demands, shooting out a hand to grab the front of the cook’s apron. “You don’t want to be gay? It’s not fucking contagious!”
“It’s fucking gross! Is that what you wanted to hear?!” Sanji screams at him, lifting his leg again and kicking Zoro across the galley and into the wall. He storms out, fists shaking.
The slam of the galley door rings in Zoro’s head.
He groans as he sits up, rubbing his chest where he can still feel the imprint of the cook’s dress shoe. He leans his back against the wall.
Shit.
So the cook really is homophobic.
Zoro clenches his eyes shut, breathing through the lingering pain.
Fucking gross .
What was so gross about it? It was the same as a man and a woman. And it wasn’t like Sanji had even seen Zoro with a man to warrant this kind of reaction. He could feel his blood begin to boil.
They’ve been through so much, every fight, every party, every day they’ve spent together, and Sanji sees him differently because of this ?
Maybe he’d have Nami teach the cook manners after all.
***
Nami is uneasy. She’s angry of course–furious, actually–but she doesn’t quite feel like she can act on it.
Zoro had told her what happened. He’d been incensed, on the verge of cutting him down. Nami could tell, however, that he was more hurt than anything. They probably wouldn’t admit it, but the two of them are friends. They respect each other’s opinions to a certain degree, which makes this all the more painful.
Nami looks across the deck, noticing a seemingly napping Zoro push his leg out just as Sanji walks past him. The cook dodges of course, gracefully stepping over it while balancing several drinks on the tray he’s carrying, but the look on his face is complicated.
He looks upset, as though he’s afraid or overwhelmed. It only shows on his face for a moment before twisting into a scowl that he directs towards the swordsman.
They don’t fight though, just glare sharply at each other, tension building until Sanji looks away, striding over to where Nami is pruning her tangerine trees.
“May I interest you in a drink, my dear?” He asks sweetly, though his smile is almost pleading. He knows that she knows about what happened the day before, correctly assuming that Zoro would tell her.
Because of course he would. Nami’s just as gay as he is, she has a right to know if a crewmate living on the same limited amount of space has a problem with who she is.
Sees her as fucking gross .
So yes, she’s angry as him, but at the same time…
She plucks a glass off the tray and Sanji’s breath catches as she looks at him.
This is what’s making her uneasy.
She has too much power over him.
Usually she loves it. Uses it. Probably abuses it too if she’s being honest. But right now, she thinks that if she were to blow up at him, their friendship would never recover. If it ever could.
As hurt as she is, Nami doesn’t want to hurt him back. She still feels like she’s missing something, that with the correct explanation his words would make sense and they could all just laugh it off.
Nami knows that if Sanji were to ever share what he’s truly thinking, though, it wouldn’t be with her.
He’s still staring at her, eyes hopeful. She looks away.
“Thanks,” she says tursely.
“Of-of course, Nami-san.” He responds, a hitch in his voice. He turns before she can look up at him again, delivering a drink to a lounging Robin and fishing Usopp.
Nami feels eyes on her and looks around the tangerine tree she was trimming to see Luffy staring hard into her eyes. She can just make out his irises, hidden underneath the shadow of his hat in the afternoon sun. It’s a little unnerving.
“Yes, Luffy?” She asks hesitantly.
Her captain continues staring until his gaze breaks away from her at an angle that she knows is towards Zoro behind her. Then his eyes swing over to where Sanji is kneeling beside Chopper, patting his head and offering him a cup of juice. And now he’s looking back at her. Still very unnerving.
Finally, Luffy tilts his hat up and breathes in deeply.
“I’m sensing a little bit of tension amongst the crew!” He shouts, catching all of them off-guard. “I want everyone to wear shoes!”
“Shoes?” Nami asks, completely lost. Almost everyone else looks equally as confused.
Robin sighs, shutting her book from where she was reading on her lounge chair. “My apologies, captain, I must not have said the metaphor correctly. The saying is: ‘To truly understand someone, you must walk in their shoes’.”
Luffy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh! Okay! Nami, put on my sandals!”
“I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean it like that,” Usopp guesses, eyes darting to Robin.
“I didn’t,” She confirms. “The phrase is meant to encourage empathy, to see things from another’s perspective. For example, to understand you better, I might imagine myself as a captain.”
Luffy nods. “Telepathy…”
Nami is extremely tempted to facepalm.
“Luffy–”
“We’re going on an adventure!” He shouts, cutting her off. “There’s a big forest on the island, and we haven’t even explored it yet.”
“An adventure?” Chopper gasps, squeezing his bendy straw between his hooves.
“Luffy, the log pose is about to reset,” Nami tries to reason, but she knows it’s a lost cause.
“Just one adventure,” Luffy promises, “But everyone is different!”
They all share a glance.
“Different?” Robin prompts, though she seems to know where this is heading by the glint in her eyes.
“Yeah! Robin is gonna be captain, Zoro is gonna be cook, Usopp is gonna be swordsman, Sanji is gonna be navigator, Nami’s gonna be doctor, Chopper is gonna be sniper, and I’m gonna be the arc-archa-arcky list!” He beams, proud of himself.
“I believe the word you’re thinking of is ‘archeologist’,” Robin says, returning his smile. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”
Sanji releases a tired sigh and turns to the galley, drink tray still in his hands. “Alright. Whatever. I’ll make us bentos.”
“No!” Luffy shouts. “You’re different now. Zoro, go get us food for the adventure!”
“Marimo?!” Sanji screeches. “No! He’ll–!” He cuts himself off.
“I’ll what?” Zoro drawls from where he’s still sitting, tone icy.
Sanji grits his teeth and looks away.
“Nothing.”
“Um, shouldn’t someone stay with the ship?” Chopper squeaks, one hoof in the air.
Luffy tilts his head, apparently thinking hard. “Chopper, you stay with the ship!”
“What?!”
“Uh-huh! You’re the sniper, you can shoot people who try to attack the Merry . Captain’s orders!”
The reindeer hangs his head. “...Okay…” He looks devastated.
Usopp rubs his back. “Hey, being a sniper is a really important job! I used my trusty slingshot to protect hundreds of ships…” Nami stops listening, turning back to Luffy.
“You really think it’s a good idea to go on an adventure without a doctor?” She asks weakly.
“But you’re the doctor?” Luffy replies, confused.
Nami does facepalm this time.
***
Nami trudges through the dense forest of bracken and deciduous trees, carrying Chopper’s medicine bag on one shoulder. The little reindeer had given her a crash course on what to do with everything inside, but she desperately hopes she doesn’t have to try to use any of it.
She had threatened everyone not to get injured before they left instead, figuring that would be more effective than whatever shoddy first aid she could do.
Now, Nami roams her eyes around the group, noticing that most of them are having just as difficult a time navigating the terrain in the heat as she is.
Robin is leading them, her many arms pulling back the tree branches and leafy bushes. Nami can see sweat drip from her forehead, but her pace is steady.
Usopp is wading just behind her, trying to pick a burr out of his overalls in one hand while carefully gripping one of Zoro’s swords in the other. Yubashiri , she thinks the name was. He’d been given strict instructions not to use it, and from what Nami can see, he seems afraid even holding it.
Zoro is behind him, hefting two large bags of food and water. She’s surprised Sanji hasn’t inspected whatever Zoro’s made for them, but it makes sense. Nami has hardly been able to focus on anything besides the tension between them.
The cook has been avoiding even looking at Zoro during the entire trek, his gaze mostly locked on the sketchy map he’s making of their progress through the forest.
His dress shoes are getting scuffed by the weeds and brambles he’s walking through, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Nami has no idea how he can stand to wear his suit jacket in the heat. He twirls his pen and looks up from the pad of paper, sending a glance over his shoulder.
“Luffy, don’t fall behind,” he calls out, catching their captain’s attention from where he’s looking at the ground with Robin’s magnifying glass. Luffy picks something up and bounds from the back of the group, showing Sanji what’s in his hand.
“Look!” he says, thrusting his palm beneath his nose. Sanji immediately recoils.
“Get that thing away from me!” He shrieks, holding his pen and notepad to his chest.
Nami walks forward, looking at what appears to be a type of beetle. Its antennae twitches, and she can feel her own stomach flip. Ew .
By this point, the whole group has stopped walking, forming a loose circle around the two. Luffy shows off the bug, looking at it closely with the magnifying glass. Zoro glowers at Sanji.
“What’s wrong, cook? Do you think it’s fucking gross ?” He taunts. Nami can feel herself already getting a headache. Are they really going to do this now ?
Sanji, who’s now a few steps away from the group, freezes. He looks up at Zoro for a moment, sends a glance to Nami, then stares at his shoes. His arms drop from his chest, and he opens his mouth to speak.
Nothing comes out. For several long moments, the group is silent.
“Can we go back to the Merry now?” Usopp pleads. “I think I’ll die if I keep walking through this forest.”
Nami looks at the angle of the sunbeams through the leaves. “It’s getting late,” she says. “We should probably head back soon if we don’t want to spend the night. Sanji, let me see your map.”
Sanji walks up stiffly and hands her his notepad while Luffy whines, “We didn’t even get to eat our adventure bentos yet!”
Nami stares down at the rudimentary map, trying to make sense of where they’re supposed to be. There’s a large blob outline, which she assumes to be the forest they’re in, a tiny drawing of the Merry at its edge, and a wobbly line coming from the ship through the forest.
“What the hell is this?” She demands, jerking the notepad towards their “navigator”.
“Uhh, w-well,” he stutters, “I can still get us back to the ship! I know the way, I’m just not the best at…making maps.” He takes the notepad from her, grimacing. “Sorry, Nami-san.”
Nami rubs at the bridge of her nose. She should have been paying more attention to where they were going, but her mind was on the tension between the two idiots. She’s going to wring both of their necks once they get out of here.
“I suppose we’ll have to take your word for it, Navigator-san,” Robin says. “We’re already in a natural clearing, so we can quickly eat and head out for the day. Does that sound good, Archeologist-san?” She turns towards Luffy, a glint of amusement in her eyes.
“Okay!” He says. He plops down to the ground and the beetle startles, wings buzzing as it flies away. Sanji and Nami flinch. “I really wanted to have an adventure though…”
Usopp pats Luffy on the back. “I’m sure at our next island we’ll have tons of adventures! I bet there will be huge beetles that brave knights have to duel to save long lost princesses…” He trails off, looking at the bags that Zoro had pulled to the center of their circle.
Robin had opened the bag containing their water. Only, it isn’t water. It’s an assortment of alcoholic drinks: beer bottles, sake jugs, and rum jars. There’s even a bottle of Sanji’s vintage wine he’d been saving for a special occasion.
Then they all look at the bento boxes Zoro’s opening. Each one is filled with nothing but pure white rice.
“No meat?” Luffy asks, breaking the silence.
Sanji explodes.
“What the fuck is this?!” He screeches, fuming. “No water? No food with any nutritional value? In the middle of this shitty forest?! Are you trying to kill us?!”
Zoro’s ears flush, but his gaze is stone cold. “What, is the rice fucking gross because it’s made by me?”
Sanji steps forward, glare hardening. He only stares at Zoro though, and his anger slowly morphs into a bitter fatigue. He snatches his wine bottle and a bento, sitting at the edge of their circle, farthest from him.
In an awkward maneuver, he brings the bottle forward and kicks at the top of it, breaking the seal and removing the cork. He starts chugging the wine, seemingly still fully aware of their eyes on him.
Nami is extremely tempted to do the same. And then bang her head repeatedly against a tree.
***
Robin had started with good intentions.
When she told Luffy to watch Sanji’s interactions with the crew, she’d explained that there could be some infighting if the crew didn’t resolve their issues on their own. He’d asked how they might resolve their issues, and instead of answering, she provided a proverb and hoped that was enough of a hint. It wasn’t her place to get involved, after all.
She really should have known he’d take it literally. But even then, she’d thought that this role-swap might be a good idea. It would get everyone out of their heads, at least. Maybe give them a reason to laugh.
She’d noticed the few days of tension between Sanji, Nami, and Zoro. The cook was avoiding them, disappearing for long stretches of time on the summer island, only coming back for brief periods during mealtimes.
It was almost…fearful in a way. There was a level of anxiety in him that wasn’t present during most fights. Something was off, and it had to do with the swordsman.
Robin had heard the stories of how everyone had joined the crew. She could tell that the chef who raised Sanji gave him traditional values of how men should treat women, and she assumed these beliefs extended a little deeper than simply being a gentleman.
Add into the fact that Zoro was openly gay…well, Robin could put two and two together.
Her current theory was that the swordsman had propositioned him and things had turned sour. During a confrontation between the two of them yesterday, Sanji had called him disgusting, or something along those lines, leading to the resentment emanating from the swordsman since.
So, as the first mate was one of the crew members involved, it was up to the captain to solve the dispute.
Which leads them to now, sitting in the middle of a forest in the heat, without water, eating the driest rice Robin has had since Alabasta. Sanji, the only one who knows the way out of the forest, is well on his way to inebriation, Nami is staring into her bento looking sick, Luffy is inhaling his rice in heaping mouthfuls, Zoro is glaring at the cook, a jug of sake in his hand, and Usopp is sweating bullets looking between them.
She’s starting to wish she’d never said anything.
The sun finally dips below the horizon, and they are left in the half-light of dusk.
“It seems like we’ll be spending the night,” She announces to the crew. “It might be wise to start a fire lest we become unable to see potential attackers waiting in the trees.” She chuckles darkly and Usopp pales. Zoro sighs, getting up and snatching Yubashiri from where it rests in Usopp’s lap.
“I’ll cut some wood.”
By the time the fire is going strong–the flame provided from Sanji’s lighter–the sky is dark with stars. The flames cast long trembling shadows onto the surrounding trees and beyond. The logs Zoro provided crack and pop loudly.
They all quietly stare at each other, the silent tension from the day apparently hitting its limit when Usopp speaks up.
“So, uh, are you guys fighting or something? Because you look like you’re about to kill someone, Zoro.” He ducks his head when Zoro glares at him.
“The cook’s a homophobic prick who thinks gay people are fucking gross .” Zoro says bluntly, a flat glare directed towards the now thoroughly drunk Sanji.
The cook throws his hands in the air artlessly.
“It’s not you !” Sanji slurs, looking frustrated.
“Shishishi! You always think Zoro’s gross, Sanji!” Luffy laughs.
“I–yes, I do, but–” He pauses, hands fisting in his hair in a way that almost looks deranged. “That’s not what I’m trying to say.”
“So what? What you said doesn’t apply to Zoro, but it applies to gay people as a whole?” Nami asks sharply. “What’s so gross to you anyway?”
“No! It’s the…the–” Sanji cuts himself off with a growl. He looks pained.
“The what? The sex ?” Zoro looks about ready to growl back. “Is that what you think is gross? It has nothing to do with you! No one’s going around forcing you to have gay sex with them!”
The cook is silent for several long seconds. His hands start sliding out of his hair, and he wraps them around his knees.
Robin presses her eyes closed, praying she’s wrong in her assumption.
“Unless, someone did, didn’t they?” She asks gently.
She opens her eyes again when she hears Nami gasp. Luffy and Usopp look confused, and Zoro’s eyes are wide. Sanji himself just stares blankly into the fire.
“Sanji,” Nami says hesitantly, her hand over her mouth. “It wasn’t recent, was it?”
The cook balks, “ No! Not since I started traveling with you guys. It was just some…chef, back at the shitty restaurant.”
“What happened?” Usopp asks, upset. He yelps when Nami elbows him in the side. “I mean, uh, he went to prison, right?”
Sanji furrows his brows. “What? No, he’s still working there as far as I know.”
Nami and Usopp are visibly distressed by that.
“He’s still there?!” Zoro demands. “Why the hell didn’t Zeff get rid of him?!”
Robin speaks up when Sanji’s shoulders sag. “Sanji, does he know?”
He grimaces. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. I never told him.”
“Why not?” Usopp asks, dismayed.
“I–” Sanji gasps, suddenly teary-eyed. He swallows. “I tried to tell him, but…he just told me to get along with the crew. I was–I had to get along with him. I was causing problems.”
He looks at Zoro. “I’m sorry,” He slurs, eyes glistening. “I know you’re not like him , but he said he wanted it because he was gay. That was his excuse. I’ve been trying to be okay with it. I can separate it in my mind with women for the most part, but it’s different with men. I’m trying to be…normal, or whatever, but it’s fucking hard. It’s like everyone else is just naturally fine with it, only I can’t help but find it all disgusting.”
His shoulders creep around his ears. He looks exhausted and ashamed, and Robin wants nothing more than to wrap her arms around him. She wonders if it would be welcome.
Zoro nods once, his expression dark.
Nami looks to be on the verge of tears herself. “Does Zeff really not care?”
At Sanji’s shrug, Luffy finally says “Sanji’s dad loves him! If someone was hurting him, he’d wanna know!”
Robin feels a pang in her heart. Of course Luffy really only understands it as “someone hurt Sanji”. Their captain still looks confused, but a hard edge can be seen in his eyes. He really does care about this crew.
Sanji’s face turns a bright red. “Zeff’s not my dad!”
“He’s not?!” Usopp asks. Nami and Zoro look equally shocked. Robin herself had assumed from the way Sanji talked about the old chef that they had a strong father-son relationship.
“The shitty geezer, he’s–we met when I was nine. And we built the Baratie together. He took me in when he didn’t have to, and…he showed me kindness when he shouldn’t have. He deserves a better son than me.”
“Sanji,” Nami says gently, sadly, “If he cares about you at all, he’d want to know. He wouldn’t want to work with someone who would do that to you. I think you should tell him.”
He’s shaking his head even before she finishes talking. “I can’t, I…” Sanji’s eyelids start to droop. He stretches, slowly lowering himself onto his side, still facing the fire.
He yawns and mumbles, “I just can’t, okay?”
The crew share a glance.
“It’s okay, Sanji!” Luffy says. “You go to sleep. We can call your dad later!”
The cook doesn’t respond, eyes already closed. Luffy stands up and tiptoes loudly over to him. He takes off his hat and places it gently on the side of Sanji’s head.
Robin hears a slight intake of breath from Nami, and the significance is not lost on her. She knows how important the straw hat is, and wonders if this is something Luffy has done for any of the other crewmates in the past.
Zoro leans back on his hands, sighing.
“He’s gonna be so pissed tomorrow.”
Usopp and Nami nod tiredly in agreement. Luffy just laughs.
Robin looks at their cook, the hat askew on the side of his head. She knows that Sanji was more honest tonight than he would have ever been comfortable with sober, and wonders if it would help or hurt more for him to remember.
She knows for certain, however, that whatever happens, they’ll have his back.
***
Sanji wakes to something splashing lightly on his hand. He cracks an eye open and winces when another drop of water lands on his neck. He sits up, trying to steady himself despite the throbbing in his head. His mouth is so dry.
He looks up. The sky is a blanket of dark clouds, the beginnings of a rainstorm dripping from above. More raindrops hit his shoulders.
He looks around their little campsite, if it can be called that. The fire is out, the remains not much more than ash. He can barely remember lighting it. Luffy is snoring away on his back, and Zoro is sitting up against a log, his head leaned forward. Nami is using Usopp’s stomach as a pillow, who’s splayed out like a starfish.
Robin is already awake, holding her hand out as if to catch a raindrop. Their eyes meet. She looks strangely sad.
An odd feeling twists in Sanji’s gut, like something bad happened that he should know about, but he can hardly think beyond the pain in his head.
“Robin-chan,” he tries, hand coming up to press against his brow. “Are you alright?”
The rain picks up before she can answer, a cold gust of wind rushing through the trees. Suddenly, Sanji feels very awake. He remembers…
They were on one of Luffy’s “adventures”, right? And for some reason it was his job to make a map? Right. Another one of Luffy’s stupid ideas, making everyone switch jobs. To improve empathy or something? Shit, his head fucking hurts.
“I think it’s best we head back to the Merry, ” Robin says to him. “Do you still remember the way?”
Sanji nods, wincing when his head aches more. “I think so. We should get out of here.”
He walks over to Luffy as Robin goes to Nami and Usopp, and kicks him harmlessly in the side.
“Hey, shitty rubber! Wake up!”
Luffy scrunches his face up and stretches, limbs spread wide. He opens his eyes and grins when he sees Sanji.
“Shishishi! Good morning!”
Something in Sanji’s heart softens. “Morning, captain. Unless you’re still an archeologist?”
Luffy laughs again. “Nope, I’m captain! But being an archy list was fun!”
“Good,” Sanji says, “I can find my way around, but I’m no navigator. Now get up, let’s get out of here.”
Turns out, he does remember how to get back. The crew follow behind him, oddly quiet as they push through the woods as fast as they can.
The rain doesn’t help. His socks are wet in his shoes, the leaves beneath them slippery. He ducks under a tree branch and the straw hat on his head brushes against it.
Wait…
He brings his hand up, tracing the straw brim. He usually hates wearing hats, the pressure on his head particularly uncomfortable. It’s odd the straw hat doesn’t cause the usual distress; he didn’t even realize he was wearing it.
But why is he wearing it?
Sanji stops in his tracks. A flood of emotions crash into him from the night before.
He’d told them. Why did he tell them? It wasn’t their business, he was fine, perfectly fine! And he would be better about the whole homophobia thing! He could get over it! He just needs a little more time is all.
He can feel his pulse in his ears, can feel his fingers start to shake. He wants nothing more than to sink to the forest floor and shove his face between his knees.
The rain pours from thick clouds, the wind through the trees sounds like ocean waves in a storm. He can barely hear it.
Zoro swears from behind him, apparently realizing what’s happening. “Cook, hey, it’s fine. We don’t see you any differently, alright?”
Sanji makes a strained humming sound.
Luffy comes up from behind, poking his head into Sanji’s line of vision.
“Sanji?” Luffy asks, concerned.
He takes a deep breath. Now’s not the time.
“Right,” he says, then more firmly, “Right. Follow me.” He begins leading them through the woods once more.
“You’re back!” Chopper cries once they finally reach the Merry. “Why were you gone so long?! Being a sniper is horrible! I was so lonely, and all Zoro made for me to eat was rice!”
Chopper hugs Sanji’s legs, the wet fabric clinging to his fur. Sanji reaches down, brushing his hand along the reindeer’s hat.
“I’ll make us something after I take a shower.” He says tightly, pulling away and heading below deck to the bathroom.
He really should stay and comfort Chopper. Whip up something warm and filling, get towels for the girls to dry off, wash the dirty bentos Zoro used.
But he feels as though he’s going to melt into an inconsolable puddle and he really wants to be alone when that happens.
He closes the bathroom door harder than he intends to and leans his back against the wood. He slips out of his muddy dress shoes and takes off his suit jacket. His dress shirt clings to his skin as he peels it off, and he shucks off his pants, socks, and boxers soon after.
Sanji’s head still pounds, and he turns on the sink faucet to take a few gulps of fresh water. He looks in the mirror, and sighs.
He doesn’t look as bad as he feels. He did get a full night of sleep after all, and he shaved just the day before.
He’s still wearing Luffy’s hat. It looks strange on him, the straw dark on his pale hair. He trails his eyes downward.
Sometimes, he expects to hate his body. He used to. It was never what it was supposed to be when he was a kid.
First, he never measured up to his brothers, his skin never hardening into steel, his physique never strong enough.
Then came the starvation, his body shriveling into a skeleton, his tendons and bone prominent under pale skin. He became something he didn’t recognize, was rattled by what he saw in the mirror when they were finally rescued.
And then he came along, and none of Sanji’s thoughts about his body mattered anymore.
What’s the point in caring when your body doesn’t even belong to you?
Sanji drags his eyes away from the mirror and leans over the tub to turn the hot water on. If he’s going to shirk his duties, he might as well go all the way and take a bath.
***
***
***
“No! I don’t want to!” Sanji shouts, folding his arms and refusing to step off their tiny boat and onto the dock.
“Eggplant,” Zeff says, tone warning. “Get yer ass over here.”
After months of recovery on the passenger ship that saved them from that Rock, the two were finally being dropped off at a calm and prosperous island, both determined to make Zeff’s new dream a reality. But…
“I don’t want to! Get back on the boat, shitty geezer!” Sanji yells, not budging an inch.
“Dammit, Sanji,” The old chef growls. He positions his legs in line with his shoulders, extra careful with his new peg leg, and reaches over the gap between the small boat and the dock. He picks up Sanji from under his armpits, ignoring his yelp, and sets him down beside him on the wooden planks.
“No!” Sanji screeches as he’s dragged by the arm towards the island. “Let’s go back, we can’t stay here!”
Zeff stops, towering over him. “Why the hell not? Eggplant, we can’t stay on that dinghy forever.”
Sanji pulls his arm free roughly and falls down. They’re still on the dock, the wood warm underneath his palms, but it’s enough to send him into a panic. He curls up into a ball, hugging himself.
Zeff makes a distressed noise. “Brat, Sanji, what’s wrong? Have you been to this island before?”
Sanji shakes his head, his words coming out choked. “It–it’s an island .” He wipes a hand across his face, surprised to feel that he hasn’t cried yet. He’s a little proud of himself for that.
The chef stares at him for a few long seconds before his eyes widen. “Eggplant, how much time have you spent on land?”
“Um,” Sanji mumbles, “Just the Rock, and one other time.” The time he escaped Germa. He hates to remember that, hates that he can’t feel the waves beneath him. He clutches his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t wanna stay on land!”
He hears Zeff sigh, and feels the thud in the wood as the old chef sits down beside him heavily.
“Deep breaths, Eggplant.” Is all he says.
They sit like that for a while, until the sun is at a different point in the sky and the tide has changed. A warm breeze rustles Sanji’s hair.
He uncurls, sniffing a little. He feels exhausted, and hungry, and mostly awful, but…when he looks at Zeff he doesn’t really feel afraid anymore.
“Okay,” he says quietly. “I’ll stay.”
***
***
***
By the time Sanji’s out of the bath, It’s well past lunchtime. He mentally kicks himself. The crew probably found food in town, but he feels shitty for not having cooked for them. Whatever. He’ll get a head start on dinner.
The sky is still cloudy, but it’s stopped raining. He puts on a new suit, a black one with a light blue shirt. Sanji’s still wearing Luffy’s hat, the gentle weight of it somehow soothing. He heads up to the galley.
He ignores the stares of the few crewmates on deck on his way. He assumes that the rest of them probably went back on the island to get more supplies or shop. He enters the galley, surprised to find Chopper twiddling his hooves at the table.
He perks up when Sanji walks in. “Sanji! You’re here!”
“Yeah. Need something, Chopper?” He asks as he walks to the counter. Zoro had apparently just dumped the bags of booze and bentos next to the sink without putting anything away. Shitty swordsman.
“Um, well, I’m hungry, but I’m also worried about you! You seemed kinda off and no one will tell me what happened on your adventure. Except for Luffy, he said he found a cool bug.”
“Everything’s fine,” he says, already annoyed at this conversation but not yet at the point where he’s willing to yell at Chopper. He loads one of the sink basins with the dirty bentos. “Do you want a cookie?”
At the reindeer’s excited gasp, Sanji opens the pantry and lifts the lid on his cookie jar. It’s shaped like a fish, a gift from Robin a few islands ago, and he usually has it filled just for feeding Chopper between meals.
Once the doctor is happily munching on the treat, Sanji walks to the fridge. “I’ll be finished with dinner soon, okay? Go let the others know.”
“Okay, Sanji!” Chopper yells happily, and bounds out of the galley. Sanji lets out a slow breath and rests his head against the fridge door.
I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine , he thinks, pulling himself together. He opens the fridge and brings out a block of cheese. Just finish dinner.
Dinner is a hit, as usual: cheeseburgers with sweet potato fries and freshly squeezed tangerine juice. The crew chat away, enthusiasm for the meal defrosting much of the earlier tension.
Once he’s finished serving everyone, Sanji walks back to the sink and begins washing the used bentos and cooking utensils, setting them on a rack for drying. After a while, he feels Zoro sidle up beside him, placing the crew’s used dishes on the counter.
Sanji glances at him, then at the now empty table. He hadn’t noticed everyone leaving.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Zoro responds, grabbing a dry rag. He walks to Sanji’s other side, and picks up a wet spatula to dry. “You didn’t eat.”
“And?” Sanji asks. “I wasn’t hungry. Didn’t know I had to run my eating schedule by you first.”
Zoro stares at him pointedly. “You wouldn’t let one of us go without a meal without throwing a hissy fit.”
“I don’t–!”
“Not counting today.” Zoro adds.
Sanji clamps his mouth shut, turning back to the dishes. His guilt has slowly been building in him all afternoon. He should have gone straight to the galley, everything else be damned.
“Dammit, cook,” Zoro grunts in annoyance, setting the spatula down. “That wasn’t a dig at you. You’re allowed time alone, especially after…” He trails off.
Sanji’s eyes cut to his sharply. For some reason, Zoro’s words infuriate him.
“Oh, so that’s how it is,” He says nastily. “You think I’m weak now that you know–”
“You’re not weak!” Zoro cuts him off, eyes blazing. “It’s just…I get it now.”
“You get it?” He can hardly believe this. “What’s there to get? Nothing’s changed! I’m still a homophobic asshole who thinks sex is repulsive! You have no reason to suddenly act like you’re forgiving me or something!”
He heaves a deep breath in, clenching his hands where they rest on the sink’s edge.
Zoro folds his arms, taking his time to answer. Finally, he says, “I said it yesterday, didn’t I? I didn’t want an apology, I wanted an explanation. Now that I have one, I can get where you’re coming from. And sure, yeah, I hope you can change your views on gay people in the future, but I don’t need that from you and it wouldn’t be fair of me to ask.”
Sanji stares at him, wide-eyed. He doesn’t know how to respond to that, doesn’t know why Zoro is being so…kind about it. Kindness Sanji doesn’t deserve. Never deserved.
He tilts his head down, the straw hat covering his eyes.
“Marimo,” he grits out, “Get the hell out of my kitchen.”
He needs time to think.
***
***
***
Steamed fish fillet. It’s the first solid food Sanji and Zeff are allowed to eat after weeks of recovery subsisting on bone broth.
He’s seated at a proper dining table in the ship’s galley, surrounded by various crewmembers and passengers. It’s a large ship, though he hasn’t had much opportunity to explore it under the supervision of the doctor.
Said doctor is seated on the other side of Zeff, explaining something to him when the food comes out. Sanji’s mouth starts salivating at the smell. He’s so excited.
Many of the others are served first. Fish slathered in a tangy sauce on a bed of rice with a side of tomato salad. When he and Zeff are finally served, however, it’s just a simple plate of steamed fish. Sanji doesn’t even think it’s salted.
He isn’t upset about it. It still smells divine, and being able to actually chew something is too tantalizing to turn away. He quickly grabs his fork.
“Eggplant,” Zeff says, placing a hand on Sanji’s arm. “Go slow. We still want to avoid getting sick.”
Sanji glares at him. “I know, shitty geezer!”
Zeff takes his hand back, a placid expression on his face. He picks up his own fork, but his eyes remain on Sanji.
Sanji decides to ignore him. He gets a small forkful of the fish and places it in his mouth.
It’s amazing.
He chews and chews and chews, just for the act itself and the satisfaction of tasting it. He takes another forkful, then another, and another. He looks down at the plate and freezes.
There’s about half of the fish left. His field of vision narrows as he stares at it. He’s going to run out if he keeps eating. This could be the last food he gets in a long time. He needs to make it stretch. If he tried, he’s pretty sure he could space it out so that he only takes a bite a day. That would give him a few more weeks.
He puts his fork down.
“Eggplant? Are you feeling sick?” He feels a prodding at his arm again and looks to the side at Zeff. The old man’s eyebrows are furrowed. His own fish is almost gone.
“No, shut up,” Sanji snaps. He looks to the doctor. “Can I save this for tomorrow?”
The doctor’s eyes cut quickly to Zeff and back. “Are you not hungry?”
“I…” What a question. When was he not hungry? “I’m hungry. But I need to save this.”
Zeff’s eyes narrow. “Eggplant, eat the damn fish.”
Sanji glares at him. “No, I need to save it.”
“Are you feeling nauseous?” The doctor asks.
“No!” Sanji’s pulse is jumping. “I just need to save it!”
There’s a pause of surprised silence. Then, Zeff turns to him fully and grabs his hand. Sanji can feel the warmth through his rough fingertips. It’s oddly soothing.
“Sanji,” He says, rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand. “There will be more food. This isn’t even the last meal of the day. You don’t need to save it.”
“But–” Sanji can feel his eyes start to water. Why does he feel like this? All the noise in the galley is suddenly overwhelming.
“Deep breaths, Eggplant.” Zeff says, still rubbing his hand. “There will be more food. I promise. Now finish that up. If you’re still hungry after, we can always ask for more.”
Sanji blinks the tears away, nodding. He pulls his hand back, already missing the warmth, and grabs the fork again.
***
***
***
The log pose finally resets, leading them to their next adventure, and the Merry happily cuts through the rough waves.
Sanji’s in the galley, securing all the cupboard doors closed with twine to prevent dishes from falling out while the boat rocks. He’s just about finished when Nami steps in, shivering a bit from the few raindrops that had begun to scatter outside.
“Nami-san!” He sang, pulling out a seat from the table for her. “Radiant as always! What can I get for you, my dear?”
She sits down, placing a small wooden box on the table. “Thanks, Sanji. Just a dish towel, if you don’t mind.” She smiles at him gently.
“Anything for you, my sweet!” He twirls, opening one of the drawers and taking out a cloth. He sinks down to one knee, presenting it to her as though it were an engagement ring.
Nami laughs, surprised. She takes the cloth and starts drying off her arms and hair. “Thanks.”
“Of course!” He stands up, delighted by her smile. It feels normal for the first time in days, until she looks away.
“Sanji…” Nami starts, and he can feel dread start to climb up his chest. She huffs, then opens the box in front of her. She reaches inside and pulls out a large pink den den mushi.
“I bought it in town before we left,” she explains. “The shop keeper said it can make calls from anywhere in the world. I know you know the number for the Baratie –”
“I don’t need to call anyone.” Sanji interrupts. He can hear his pulse in his ears. “I really don’t. There’s nothing to say.”
Nami looks like she wants to protest, but she simply nods instead. “Okay. That’s fine.”
Sanji’s eyebrows raise in surprise. She lifts a finger before he can respond.
“But! If you do want to, feel free to ask any of us to be with you when you call. Or don’t, if you’d be more comfortable alone. Just…keep it in mind, okay?”
Nami gets up, placing the den den mushi down on the table next to the dish towel. She walks to the door, but stops just before it, glancing back at him.
“We’re here for you, you know. All of us. If you ever want to talk about it.”
Once she’s gone, Sanji has to force himself to unclench his fists. He rushes to the table and stuffs the snail roughly back into the box. After about two seconds he takes it out again, rubbing its shell in apology.
He strides to the fridge and pulls out a leftover head of lettuce from the wraps they had for lunch. He rips off a large leaf, then stuffs the rest back in the fridge for tomorrow.
He walks back to the table, slumping down in the chair Nami was using. The den den mushi blinks up at him, and he stares at it for a few moments before tearing off a piece of lettuce and feeding it.
“Keep it in mind, huh?” He asks the empty room.
***
***
***
“Shut the fuck up!” Sanji screams, throwing a saucepan across the kitchen. A few of the cooks have to dodge out of the way as it sails through the air and slams hard into the wall. The backsplash tiles where it made impact are cracked.
“Sanij! What the hell?!” Carne shouts. “Calm down!”
“You calm down!” He screams back, kicking out hard. Before he can do any real damage, however, a firm hand wrenches him backwards by the collar of his uniform.
He fights back with all the strength of his thirteen year old body, but can’t get any hits in by the time Zeff drags him out of the kitchen and into the back hallway.
“Deep breaths, Eggplant,” Zeff says, finally letting him go. “You want to tell me what the hell’s gotten into you?”
Sanji growls at him. “Fuck off, shitty geezer!”
Zeff glares. “Eggplant, if you don’t tell me what the hell’s wrong with you, you can forget about going back in that kitchen tonight.”
Sanji grits his teeth, balling his hands into fists. He…doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. His attitude and emotions have been all over the place since…
He doesn’t want to think about it. It’s fine. It only happened twice. He can handle it by himself.
But he feels so out of control. One second he’s fine, and then he feels his eyes on him and everything falls apart.
He wants to deal with this himself, but…
“It’s–” he doesn’t know what to say. “Ugh, it’s, um, Sal’s been touching m–”
“Zeff! We’re getting backed up here!” His voice calls from the kitchen.
Sanji’s temper flares and he kicks the hallway wall forcefully. “FUCK! OFF!” He roars back.
“Dammit, Sanji!” Zeff yells at him, kicking his leg. “I don’t have time for this. You either learn to get along with them or you stay out of the kitchen. You got it?”
Sanji can feel the blood drain from his face. Stay out of the kitchen? He opens his mouth to protest, to plead, but…maybe Zeff doesn’t care. Maybe Zeff already knows about it. He can feel the thought settle into him, seeping into his bones, leaving him cold and empty.
He closes his mouth and nods, casting his eyes downwards. His anger has vanished, and he can’t quite parse the emotion that’s replaced it. Everything feels numb.
“Good,” Zeff says, bringing his hand up to place on his shoulder.
Sanji flinches.
They both freeze. Sanji hasn’t flinched from Zeff in years . Sanji himself doesn’t know why. Everything is so confusing. He can’t fucking think.
Zeff starts to say something, but–
“Owner! We could really use your help!” Carne shouts, followed by a loud crash.
“I’m coming!” Zeff shouts back. He turns to look at Sanji again, his mouth a tight line, before limping his way back to the kitchen.
Sanji, now alone, sinks to the floor.
He doesn’t go back to the kitchen that night.
***
***
***
On his fourteenth birthday, Zeff had given him two things: his own knife set and a book titled “ Human Development 101 ”.
It was his way of giving him The Talk , apparently covering the stages of development children and teenagers go through. Sanji had rolled his eyes and protested needing such a thing. He had no idea where Zeff had even gotten it from, it was more of a textbook than anything.
He remembers that a chapter of the book detailed a study on kids with some kind of condition. Chronic anxiety maybe. According to the study, when one of these children were left alone in a room for long periods of time, they’d begin crying, begging for their parents.
When a parent did come, the child continued to cry, no matter how much comfort was given.
Sometimes…Sanji can relate. He could have everything he wanted; sailing on a ship he loves, cooking for the people he considers family, chasing after his dream…and still, a part of him is almost always afraid, confused, angry; crying out for a comfort he already has.
He’d read the book cover to cover multiple times over the years.
It never said anything about consent.
***
Sanji takes a drag from his cigarette. He’s on the deck of the Merry , looking out at the dark waves. The wood beneath him is still a little wet from the earlier rain. The dark clouds still cover the sky, making the early morning appear more like night.
He trails a hand across the brim of Luffy’s straw hat still resting on his head. He’d been up for hours, a sick feeling in his gut making sleep unattainable. Smoking helped.
“Saaaaanji?” He hears Luffy say through a yawn. He’s just coming from the men’s quarters, his hair a mess.
“Luffy? What are you doing up this early?” Sanji asks, taking another drag from his cigarette. The cowlick on his captain’s head makes him smile.
“I’m hungry! Can you make breakfast?”
Sanji snorts. “It’s too early for breakfast, idiot. I’ll make you a snack though.”
“Meat?”
“Sure.”
“Hey, Sanji?” Luffy asks just as he’s loading a pan with heaps of raw bacon.
“Mhm?”
“What kind of fish do you wanna cook in the All Blue?”
Sanji’s eyebrows raise. The question makes his heart feel lighter, and he smiles.
“I’m not sure. There are a lot of fish from the other Blues that I’ve never even heard of. I want to be surprised.”
Luffy hums. “Are you gonna bring your dad there when we find it?”
Sanji blinks in surprise. Instead of correcting Luffy about Zeff, he responds, “Maybe. I think it would be pretty tough to get the Baratie up Reverse Mountain. I’m sure everyone would want to come see it though.”
“No.” Luffy says firmly.
“Huh?”
“No. I’m not letting the cook who hurt you come to the All Blue. Your dad can come though.” His jaw is set.
“Luffy,” Sanji says weakly, “it’s not that big of a deal.”
“It is!” Luffy shouts, surprising him. “He hurt you, and he’s still hurting you. I can tell. If I need to go all the way back to East Blue and kick his ass, I will!”
Sanji growls in frustration and throws the rest of the bacon into the pan. “I don’t need that! And Zeff already has enough trouble getting enough chefs to stay full-time. It’s not worth it.” He turns on the sink and starts aggressively washing his hands.
“It would be! And Zeff loves you! He would do it himself if he knew!” Luffy tilts his chin up and glares determinedly.
“I’m not fucking telling him!” Sanji yells. He shuts off the water and sharply flicks the water off his hands. He grabs a spatula and begins roughly rearranging the now sizzling bacon in the pan. “Either he knows or he doesn’t, what does it matter?”
“He wouldn’t want to work with someone who hurt you,” Luffy says seriously. “What are you so afraid of? What do you have to lose?”
Sanji wants to scream back, to kick Luffy out of his kitchen. Why is he pushing on this? It’s none of his business! His blood pulses with anger.
But another part of him, equally as loud, wonders: what does he have to lose?
The answer comes to him in an avalanche of emotion.
He would lose the small kernel of hope that Zeff doesn’t know. That he really does care, that he wouldn’t stand for it. Because what if he knew?
If Sanji got that confirmation, if he found out that he knew all along, that he let it happen, he doesn’t know if he can handle it. It’s been fine so far, living in the in-between where the answer could go either way.
But really, what does it even matter? What does he have to lose? What can be worse than what’s already happened?
Sanji doesn’t respond to Luffy, just shoves a plate of bacon in front of him once it’s done cooking and begins to clean up. He thinks now would be the time to give Luffy his hat back, but he can’t bring himself to part with it just yet.
His captain doesn’t ask for it, just sits in uncharacteristic silence as Sanji begins to prepare breakfast for the rest of the crew.
***
“Luffy, Nami. Could you stay for a minute?” Sanji asks once the crew are about finished with the heaping piles of waffles and diced fruit. He’s already sweating.
The crew share a look before quickly getting up from the table and filing out of the galley, with the exception of the captain and navigator. Robin gives him a light pat on the shoulder as she leaves that helps steady his nerves.
“Sanji?” Nami asks, tone gentle. Luffy looks at him expectantly.
Sanji walks over to the counter and retrieves the den den mushi from where he’d been keeping it and places it on the table between the dirty plates and a butter dish.
Nami stares at it, eyes wide. Then her gaze cuts back to him as he sits in the chair between them.
Her face blooms into a compassionate smile and puts her hand on his arm. “We’re here, whatever you need.” Luffy nods in agreement, his arms crossed.
Sanji takes a deep breath. He’d struggled to decide whether he wanted anyone on the crew to stay, but…Luffy and Nami made sense in his mind. He doesn’t want to do this without them.
He reaches out to the den den mushi, plugging in the number for the Baratie on the side of its shell and picking up the receiver. After a few rings, someone picks up.
“ This is the Baratie, would you like to make a reservation? ” Zeff’s voice says from the snail, it’s face morphing into a scowl and a braided mustache.
Sanji immediately hangs up, startling both Luffy and Nami.
He hadn’t expected it to be Zeff answering! He’d thought maybe Patty or one of the other chefs who deal with schedule shit would pick up. Not the fucking head chef!
Then he remembers that the old geezer had moved the snail to his office to avoid noise from the kitchen. He realizes very suddenly that he’s not prepared for this.
“Uh,” he says, not knowing what to do now that he’s here. He glances at Luffy. His captain looks proud, despite Sanji barely having done anything.
“It’s okay, Sanji,” he says simply.
And that, more than anything, makes him pick up the receiver again.
This time when Zeff answers, he sounds more annoyed. “ This better not be a prank call, ” he grumbles.
“Geezer,” Sanji says hesitantly. “It’s me.”
There’s a pause before Zeff shouts, “ Eggplant?! ”
“Yeah,” he laughs weakly.
“ It’s about time you called! Didn’t send any letters or nothin’, ungrateful brat! ”
“Well…” Sanji says, not sure how to continue. He honestly hadn’t thought the geezer would want any letters or calls. They didn’t really have that kind of relationship.
Zeff seems to pick up on his tone. “ Eggplant, did something happen? ” The den den mushi’s scowl deepens.
“Not exactly.” Sanji steels himself, gripping the receiver tightly. “Look, is Sal still working there?” He’s almost praying he isn’t. Then, he could simply hang up and put everything behind him.
“ Sal? Yeah, the idiot hasn’t quit yet if that’s what you mean. ”
“Oh. Uhm, geezer,” His hands are shaking. “Okay. Just…Sal and I. We’ve, uh, been in a…sexual relationship since he got hired.”
Sanji slams the receiver back down on the snail’s shell, hanging up.
There. He did it.
He pulls his legs up onto the chair he’s sitting on, curling around his knees. He pulls Luffy’s hat down on his head.
Nami puts her hand on his arm again and he feels ashamed for being so weak in front of her. Luffy begins to say something before the den den mushi starts ringing.
Sanji panics, picking up the receiver and shoving it into Nami’s hand. She takes it, her surprised expression soon morphing into understanding.
“ Eggplant?! ” Zeff demands. Sanji shoves his face into his knees, still tugging on the edges of the straw hat.
“Uh, this is Nami, Sanji’s crewmate.” She says, saving him. “He needed to take a break, but he’s still here.”
There’s a pause on the other end, and Sanji’s dread builds. “ You mean to tell me, ” Zeff says slowly. “ That one of my cooks has been raping my son for the past six years? ”
Sanji clenches his eyes shut. There’s just…so much wrong with that sentence.
“Yes.” Nami says firmly. “He said he tried to tell you. He thought you might’ve already known.”
“ I didn’t! ” Zeff says forcefully. “ Of course I didn’t, I– ”
He’s quiet for a moment before continuing. “ Nami, is he listening? ”
Sanji can hear Nami shift in her chair. “Yes, he’s still here.”
“ Sanji, ” he begins. There’s a few moments of silence before he says, “ I’ll call you back. ”
He hangs up.
Sanji brings his face up from his knees, staring at the now blank-faced snail. Nami looks at him, distressed.
“Why did he…?” She begins. She looks on the verge of tears. Sanji himself just feels numb.
Inexplicably, Luffy laughs. “Shishishi! He knows what to do!”
“ Luffy ! Take this seriously–” Nami starts yelling, but Sanji cuts her off.
“It’s fine, Nami-san,” he says. He uncurls, letting his feet drop to the floor from his chair. He takes a deep breath and stands up. “I told him, and that’s it.”
“But–”
“Nami, please ,” he begs, some of his numbness being replaced by a horrible wrenching feeling in his chest.
She falls silent, and Sanji turns away. He takes off his hat, extending it towards Luffy.
“I don’t need this anymore.”
Luffy stares at it, his arms still crossed. Then, he smiles and stands up. He takes the hat and immediately plops it back on Sanji’s head.
“It’s okay! You can keep it just a little bit longer!” Luffy says right before wrapping his arms around Sanji in a tight hug.
“You–” Sanji wheezes, sinking into the hug. Before long though, Luffy unwinds his limbs and jumps back.
“Come get us if you want to when he calls back. Let’s go, Nami!” He steps around Sanji and grabs her arm, pulling her up.
“Oh. Okay,” she says, correctly guessing that he needs some space. Her face relaxes from the troubled expression it was in. She smiles at Sanji and leans in for her own hug. “Thanks for trusting us.”
His face reddens despite everything. “O-of course, darling! There’s no one more trustworthy than you!”
Nami lets him go, swatting his arm playfully. Luffy laughs and grabs her arm again, leading her to the door.
They both throw warm gazes at him before they leave. Sanji’s heart squeezes. He really has the best crewmates.
His eyes scan the table. Dirty dishes still litter the surface, though no food was left behind. He begins gathering the plates. He has more than enough to do while waiting for the old geezer to call.
Turns out, Zeff takes a lot longer to call back than he anticipated. The dishes are washed, the counters are wiped, and the floor is pristine. Still, no call.
It sets Sanji’s teeth on edge and his mind starts racing. All the emotions he’d pushed down are welling up like blood under a bandage.
What if Zeff wanted the other side of the story? What if he didn’t believe Sanji? What if this changed the way Zeff saw him? What if he saw him as weak for letting someone do that to him?
Because he did. He let it happen. Even when he was finally strong enough to fight, when he could kick anyone’s teeth in with ease, he still didn’t stop him.
Sanji pauses from where he’s wiping the table down for the third time. His hands are shaking.
It’s so different, thinking about it now. At the time, it felt like he had no choice, that he was somehow stuck in an enclosed space with only one way forward. Now, looking back on it, he feels so stupid.
Why did I let him do that to me? What the hell is wrong with me?
He lets go of the rag he’s holding and sinks to the ground, wrapping his arms around his knees.
He sucks in stuttering breaths, his chest feels so tight. He shoves his face into his knees and brings his hands up to clutch the straw hat again.
Why did it have to happen? Why couldn’t he have just left me alone? Why did I have to go through that, for years? Why couldn’t I have just told someone? How did Zeff not know?
His eyes fill with tears, and he tries desperately to will them away, along with the thoughts and memories.
He’s so, so weak.
The smell of rain stills his thoughts. He can hear the tapping on the porthole window, the drops hitting the glass in waves.
I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine, he thinks.
He slowly relaxes, his breath evening out. Sanji takes his hands off the hat, moving them behind him so he can lean back. He tilts his head back and stares at the clock above the oven. Almost noon.
Sanji climbs to his feet shakily. If the old geezer was going to take his sweet time, he might as well start on lunch.
Lunch passes, a steak salad with seasoned vinaigrette dressing. The crew members who notice the den den mushi still on the table don’t say anything, and he’s grateful.
Overall, they mostly divert tension away from him. Usopp tells stupid stories, and Luffy asks stupid questions. Chopper’s clueless, but thoroughly entertained. The others just offer their calm presence. It does a lot to settle his mind.
He cleans up after. Zeff still doesn’t call.
By the time dinner rolls around, heaping plates of seafood fried rice, Nami has a look of consternation on her face. Her narrowed gaze is directed at the snail from where it sits beside her plate, as though that will make it ring. Again though, she doesn’t say anything, just gently squeezes Sanji’s arm in comfort.
Luffy stays behind when it’s time to clean up. Sanji almost thinks he’s going to ask for his hat back, but all he does is laugh.
“Shishishi! Don’t worry, Sanji! Your dad will call back soon for sure!” He gives one of his wide, achingly sincere smiles, and Sanji can’t help but believe him.
It’s an hour or so after that, after everything is cleaned and put away, that the den den mushi finally rings.
Sanji stares at it. He’d been about to go outside for a long awaited cigarette in the humid night air. The clouds had finally parted, and the waves sparkle in the moonlight.
He picks up the snail and brings it out with him, climbing up the aft deck. He’d volunteered for the first night shift, so the deck is empty. He sits down, back against the railing. The deck is still wet from the rain earlier, but it’s warm, and he doesn’t mind getting his suit wet right now.
Sanji sets the still ringing den den mushi down in front of his crossed legs and finally picks up the receiver.
“ ...Sanji? ” Zeff asks. He sounds tired, serious. “ Are you there? ”
Sanji doesn’t know what to say. His mind’s been a mess all day, even before their last conversation. He’s exhausted, and sad, and more than a little angry too.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he responds. He sets the receiver down on his leg and fishes out a cigarette.
“ Good. That’s good. ” The old chef says stiltedly.
“Yep,” Sanji agrees, flicking on his lighter. “Well. Good talk.”
“ Wait a goddamn minute, shitty brat! ” Zeff shouts. “ I’m not finished.”
Sanji waits, taking a drag from his cigarette.
“ I took care of him, ” Zeff says suddenly. “ He’s not a problem anymore. He never will be again. You have my word. ”
A thought dawns in Sanji’s head. “You–what did you do to him?”
“ I killed him, ” Zeff says bluntly. “ That’s why it took me so long to call back. ”
So he’s dead. Sanji’s surprised by this, but not as much as he would’ve expected. Somehow that seems to be the natural conclusion to this.
He doesn’t really know how to feel about it. He’s just dead? Sanji will never see him again? It’s hard to wrap his mind around.
“What, did you chase him around the ship all day?” The image is strangely comical.
“ I tortured him. ”
“...Oh.”
He hears a frustrated huff from the snail. “ Look, Eggplant. I know what you’re thinking because I’ve dealt with the idiot thoughts that go through your pea-sized brain for years. I…I didn’t exactly set you straight on a lot of things over the years. I let you believe things you shouldn’t have. ”
Sanji furrows his brow, confused. “What does that mean? Let me believe what?”
“ I let you believe that you weren’t my son, ” Zeff says seriously, voice as firm as Sanji’s ever heard it. “ I let you believe that I didn’t care. ”
Sanji nearly squeaks. “You–what?!” His ears are ringing.
“ I said what I said, brat. And I’m not stopping. I’ve been a shit father since we met, but I can least be honest for once in my goddamn life. And that’s what I want from you too. ”
“Wha–honesty? Are you going fucking senile?” Sanji deflected. He wanted honesty? Touchy-feely shit? They didn’t do that. It was always gruff words and kicks to the head or a small nod if Zeff felt like it. But maybe…maybe this was something Sanji had been wanting for a long time.
“ I’m more clear headed than I’ve ever been, brat! I’ve only just got my head out of my ass, you should get yours out too. I know you’re blaming yourself for this shit because that's just how you think, but it’s bullshit. I should have known. I should have stopped him. It was never your job to take this on yourself, and I’m sorry– ” his voice cracks, “ I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when I should have been. ”
“No!” Sanji responds, furious. His heart lurches, and his chest feels tight. “It wasn’t your fucking fault. You didn’t know because I didn’t tell you. I didn’t–”
He grits his teeth. Honesty, Sanji .
“I didn’t tell you because I was scared. I didn’t know what you’d think. I didn’t know if you already knew. I didn’t know if you’d take his side. I thought I could handle it, and you know what? I fucking could! I could endure it, and get along with him, and do my fucking job. It was normal, I had it under control, I-I was fucking fine !”
His heart is beating out of his chest, his eyes squeezed shut. He doesn’t want to think about this.
“ Deep breaths, Eggplant, ” Zeff says gently.
They’re both quiet for a few moments, the only sound being the waves against the ship and Sanji’s ragged breathing.
“ You don’t have to be fine, Sanji, ” Zeff continues softly. “ You can be hurt, and angry, and all the millions of other emotions you’re always feeling. You don’t have to take this on alone. I know this isn’t what our relationship is, it never has been. But it could be. ”
Sanji scoffs wetly. “Could be what?”
“ Could be this , ” Zeff says earnestly. “ Just talking. Not skirting around issues and feelings we both know are there. It’s a little late to be saying this, kid, but I want to be there for you when you need me. I want to be the father you deserve. ”
“You already are!” Sanji corrects sharply. “You’re more of a father than I could have ever hoped for! I just…I didn’t know you wanted that too.”
“ I do, ” Zeff says forcefully. The snail cracks a smile, and Sanji meets it with his own.
“We’ve got to be the stupidest family ever,” Sanji laughs weakly, “Only just now realizing we should talk to each other.”
Zeff huffs fondly. “ We’re doing it now, aren’t we? Shitty brat. ”
“Yeah. Shitty geezer.” He takes a drag from his cigarette, looking up at the stars.