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"Happy birthday."
Zoro woke up from his nap, blinking bleary-eyed at the sound of Sanji's voice and the clatter of a plate on deck. It was irritating as usual, being woken up and reminded of Sanji's continued existence in his life, not in the least because Nami's mikan grove was usually the best place on the Going Merry to sleep undisturbed. Regardless, curiosity had Zoro reigning in his ire and glancing down at the offering Sanji had placed in front of him. He stared. It was grilled sea beast meat with a side of white rice; his favourite.
Eyebrows raised, Zoro glanced back up at Sanji who was still standing in front of him. Sanji's expression appeared carefully neutral.
"It's not my birthday," Zoro said to him, picking up the plate and taking a bite despite his words. The food was annoyingly perfect as usual, and it was with great effort that he held back noises of appreciation. Sanji had unlocked a petty streak in him.
Sanji lit the cigarette that dangled from his mouth and exhaled a plume of smoke with a disparaging look.
"Liar," he said.
He spoke with an air of finality and Zoro knew there was no use arguing with him.
"How did you know?" Zoro said as he carried on eating.
Sanji sat down next to him. "I have my ways," he said. He rubbed a hand over his chin with a sneer. "Had to make it fucking difficult for no goddamn reason though didn't you, shithead?"
"Ah. There it is."
"What?"
"The insult you usually serve with your food."
Sanji's lip curled in a way that looked to be either annoyance or mirth, Zoro couldn't quite tell.
"That was part of my birthday gift to you." Sanji said. He counted off on his fingers. "One, you get your favourite meal. Two, you get birthday wishes from yours truly, sans insult. You're welcome."
"I'm honoured," Zoro said dryly and Sanji grinned at him.
"Anyway," Sanji continued as Zoro took another bite. "Why did you tell everyone the wrong date? Usopp, Chopper and Luffy all gave me different ones when I asked."
Electing not to think too hard about the idea of Sanji going out of his way to find out such a trivial fact about Zoro, just so that he could cook him his favourite meal, Zoro shrugged. "Don't like all the fuss."
"Hmm." Sanji gave a minute nod in response and took a few drags of his cigarette.
The silence that fell after was a surprisingly comfortable one. In fact, Zoro was certain that this was a first for him and Sanji. He ate his meal as Sanji continued to smoke next him. The air was chillier today than it had been for the past week, and Zoro found himself welcoming the warmth of Sanji's presence beside him, their knees grazing with each small movement. It was peaceful, but not peaceful enough to quell the curiosity that still gnawed at him.
"How did you find out the real date?" Zoro said.
"I have my ways," Sanji said again in an annoying sing-song voice and Zoro rolled his eyes.
"She told you didn't she?"
"Nami-san is a beautiful fountain of knowledge."
Zoro scoffed and chewed slowly for a few seconds. "When's your birthday?" he said.
For a brief moment, Sanji appeared to look surprised; his visible eye wide and child-like, and mouth slightly open. Then Zoro blinked and Sanji's expression had faded into something more measured. Glancing away from him, Sanji took his time stubbing out his cigarette.
"Eight months ago," he answered finally.
Zoro thought back and then frowned. "We didn't celebrate any birthdays eight months ago, shit cook. Why didn't you tell anyone?"
An odd smile twitched at the corners of Sanji's mouth. He raised a hand and pressed his fingertips to his lips as though trying to stifle it, or perhaps search for a phantom cigarette.
"I don't like all the fuss either," he murmured.
Zoro's first instinct was to doubt. Sanji was, without question, the fussiest man he had ever known. He seemed to be always seeking attention; dancing around the women as though in a constant state of peacocking, wearing silly suits and adding needless garnishes to his fancy dishes. Even his fighting style was flashy, almost hypnotising, though Zoro would die before admitting that he found the way Sanji moved captivating.
When he actually thought about it, however, it made sense. Fussy though the cook was, he would rather fuss over others than have others fuss over him. And far from some preening bird in a fight, Sanji was more like a deep sea predator; something akin to an anglerfish, distracting opponents with pretty displays before devouring them whole.
The thought made Zoro shiver in delight, fingers itching for his swords.
It hit Zoro then, that when it came to himself, Sanji was a master at talking very much but saying very little.
"What?" Sanji said quietly, and Zoro realised that their eyes had met once more. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Even now, despite Sanji's straight-backed posture and unflinching gaze, Zoro couldn't help but see it: something hidden beneath the perfectly pressed suits and golden curtain of hair. It looked vulnerable, as though every fibre of its being was crying out don't look at me. Zoro felt his heart start to race.
Even the anglerfish was a distraction.
Too late. I see you.
"S'nothing," Zoro said.
Sanji stood up abruptly, breaking their eye contact. He began patting down his suit jacket, seeking out his cigarettes. His hands were shaking slightly, Zoro noted. He got to his feet as well, picking up the empty plate and holding it out to Sanji.
"Why did you make me this?" Zoro said.
He watched as Sanji hesitated for a moment before flicking his lighter to life. The flame caught the fresh cigarette between his lips and the cherry glowed as Sanji took a deep inhale.
"You don't want a big song and dance on your birthday, I get it," Sanji said, "which is why I didn't tell anyone else or make you a fucking cake or whatever. But that doesn't mean it shouldn't be acknowledged."
He made to take the plate from Zoro's hands, but Zoro held firm. There was a light, swooping sensation in his stomach, as though the Merry had just been rocked by a large wave, though he knew the waters were calmer today. Sanji was looking at him. While his gaze had initially been clouded with confusion upon Zoro's refusal to relinquish the plate, he now looked intrigued. Zoro let him look. Sanji's eyes darted around Zoro's face for a moment before stopping suddenly, and Zoro thought he saw colour beginning to stain his cheeks.
Ah, Zoro thought to himself, he sees me too.
"Thank you for the meal," Zoro said, letting the plate slip from his grasp. "I'll cook you something next time it's your birthday."
A startled laugh burst out of Sanji's mouth and Zoro felt a responding grin break across his own face against his will.
"I'll kill you if you step foot in my kitchen, moss," Sanji said. "But… thanks."
Zoro watched him turn and stride away back to the galley. Settling back down amongst the mikans, he closed his eyes as he already started to plan his ambush, which mostly involved convincing Nami to teach him exactly how to cook seafood pasta.
That was his long-term plan anyway. In the meantime, he wondered how difficult it would be to get Sanji to reveal himself again. Zoro hoped he would put up a fight. It wouldn't be any fun without the challenge after all.
He couldn't wait for March.