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If Sanji were to be honest, he really didn’t think living with Pudding would be too bad.
He sits there on his couch, with his captain’s blood on his hands and looks at her, really looks- at her eyes that seem just as lonely as his, and thinks maybe this was okay.
‘I won’t love you’, he thinks.
‘Not truly, because my heart won’t ever be yours the way it is theirs, and it always will be theirs, but I will love you the best I can and pray it is enough.’
And he holds her in her arms, and she is beautiful and soft and lovely, and everything Sanji could ever want and-
He doesn’t feel a thing.
_______________________________________________________________________
“He almost ripped his own hands off for you”
Sanji thinks back to those gold cuffs, and the terror still haunts his hands, the way he shivers every time he thinks of them. They didn’t hurt, not at all, not even a little. A little uncomfortable and a little heavy, but they rested on his wrists perfectly, like they were made specially for him, crafted perfectly, with delicate precision.
The Vinsmokes were never the type to bother with gifts. Soldiers didn’t need presents. Anything Sanji ever got from Judge was a punishment- an iron helmet, golden cuffs, bruises and flaming legs-
He looks down at his hands now, and they’re clean as always, with small cuts and scabs, smelling like soap and the spices from lunch that were too strong to scrub out. He wonders what Luffy’s hands look like. He wonders how far rubber can stretch before it hurts.
He wonders how rubber heals, if you can stitch it back together like with a chicken and trussing needle? Or mold it into shape like tempered chocolate? Or push a screw into the flesh until it comes out the other end and stays together like a bunch of meat on a barbeque stick?
Sanji feels a sickness building in his throat that desperately wants out, but when he opens his mouth all that come out is a quiet-
”What?”
“You asked me what it would take for me to forgive you, Sanji”, Nami says. And her eyes meet his, and she takes his hands, still shaking, into hers, clasps them gently. Her voice is tender and low, like she’s trying to be kind. It doesn’t work.
“I’m telling you that it isn’t your fault, and that there’s nothing you can do.”
“I don’t understand”, he says blandly. And it feels like he hasn’t eaten for days again, like his throat might collapse in on itself if he even dares to take in a single breath.
“You weren’t there, Sanji. You didn’t see him. He almost tore his own hands off his arms-”, she sounds horrified then, like she’s reliving a memory she wishes she could forget-
And she pauses when she sees Sanji flinch at the words, like she knows he couldn’t handle hearing the rest. He’s thankful for that, even though he isn’t. He deserves to hear what happened, to learn what they had to go through to save him and die of the guilt and the shame and the fear, except maybe he doesn’t deserve to be here at all, on this ship, to be loved like he now knows he is.
He knows he is, because Luffy made it impossible to forget.
“What happened wasn’t your fault. I love you Sanji, and I’m glad you’re back… but I love Luffy too. And I can’t- I can’t forget what he went through, what he was willing to… I just need some time, Sanji.”
“I don’t understand”, he repeats, numbly, like he’s malfunctioning. Like all the code they used to reprogram his brain just gave out completely this time. He barely knows where he is anymore, and he doesn’t know how he sounds so when Nami tears up and puts her forehead to his, he doesn’t know what’s wrong.
“Oh Sanji, we’re family”, she says. Like it’s that simple. And Sanji just wishes he could understand.
In theory, of course, it’s simple enough. Luffy loves like he dreams, foolishly, fearlessly, faithfully, with all of his very being. What would an arm or two be to get back what is rightfully his?
Except Sanji’s a broken machine that doesn’t work quite right. He’s inadequate, and a burden, and he doesn’t deserve all this goddamn it, he really doesn’t.
‘Family’, she says, and Sanji understands. Except that he really, really doesn’t.
__________________________________________________________________________
“If I had a penny for everytime a captain gave up a limb to save my life, I’d almost have two, which, in my opinion, is fucking bullshit.”
The man at the bar looks at him like he’s too scared to tell him to leave, but also would really like him to do so. Except Sanji doesn’t really want back on the ship yet, so the man’s gonna have to deal.
“Nami said you’d be here, trying to drown yourself in alcohol”.
“Robin”, Sanji says in acknowledgement, before taking another gulp of the shitty excuse for wine he’s been nursing. Robin slips it out of his hands. He sighs and turns towards her.
“She said you could use someone to talk to.”
“I’m good.” She levels him with a flat gaze, completely unimpressed. "Fine. Did they tell you what happened at Whole Cake?”
“Bits and pieces. None of you were in a great condition, especially…”
Sanji nods, feeling the guilt crawling up his throat again. He feels the urge to drown it out, force it down with another sip of the wine, but Robin’s still holding it hostage.
“I failed him- them. All of them. They had to go through all that because of me.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Sanji.”
He shakes his head vigorously, chuckling. “But it was, wasn’t it? If I weren’t a Vinsmoke-”
“You aren’t one Sanji.”
“Then what am?”, he asks her, begging her to make it make sense.
“A member of the StrawHat Pirates of course”, she says- her lips a knowing smile, eyes fond in a way that makes it clear she cares about him. Fuck, Sanji can’t stand it.
“I don’t understand. I’m- I’m a failure, a liability-”
“You’re one of the strongest members of the cr-”
“But what if I’m not? What if one day I can’t fight anymore? If one day, my legs give out, and suddenly, I can’t be useful anymore? Could you still tell me I deserve to be here?”
“You don’t need to earn your place with us Sanji. We aren’t the Vinsmokes.”
“We’re a bunch of fools chasing an impossible dream Robin! We have to be strong. We won’t survive if we aren’t- and if I’m weak I don’t belong with you anymore.”
“That doesn’t matter-”
“Of course it does! You think I could stand being a burden like that? Dead weight that you all have to put your lives on the line for? Until eventually you get tired of me, and leave me behind? I’d rather…”
“You’d rather what, Sanji?”
“I think I’d rather become a monster, Robin. I think I’d rather be the soldier Judge wanted me to be than to ever have to be unwanted.”
“We’d always want you here. No matter what. We're family. We’d take on the world for each other, you know that.”
“But I’d be useless!”
“You don’t have to prove yourself to be useful to be deserving of our love, Sanji”, Robin says, voice gentle- like she’s trying to reason with a rabid animal of sorts. He hates how easily she says it- something that goes against every lesson he’s ever been taught by his… by the Vinsmokes.
“What is this really about?”, she asks in that same tone. She reaches for Sanji’s hands, and clasps them gently, like Nami did before, and Sanji caves immediately.
“It’s, uh… my body. It’s… different.” God, I sound like a pubescent child.
Robin nods. She understands, somehow. Because of course she does, it’s Robin.
“Do you think I deserve to be loved, Sanji?”
“Yes?”, he answers, caught off guard.
“Even though I can and have sacrificed many to survive?”
“Yes.”
“Even though I can sprout a thousand hands out of my back?”
“Of course.”
“Even if I’m armed with knowledge that could end the world?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Even if I’m a devil child with the body of a freak? Even if I’m a killer?”
“What- what does that have to do with anything?”
“It doesn’t Sanji," says Robin. “You can be cruel and heartless, or you can be weak and incompetent, incapable of following basic commands, and we’d still have you.”
“Why?”, he asks, incredulous.
“We’re all monsters. We all want to be stronger, to protect each other. But we’re always human enough to love. And I know you. You’ll love us no matter what form you take, and that will always be enough.”
“What am I then?”, he asks her, “If I become a monster, or a useless piece of shit, or a brain dead vegetable, then what would be left of me? What am I going to be?”
“Loved, Sanji. You will always be loved.”
It’s the third time in a week that Sanji’s cried because of something a beautiful woman has said. It’s sort of getting exhausting, to be honest.
____________________________________________
“Get the fuck up.”
Sanji wakes up with a headache. He hasn’t been sleeping too well recently, being with… them- brought up old memories he’d rather didn’t resurface. Blurry eyed and annoyed, he shoots the intruder, Zoro- a glare.
“What the fuck?”
“Stop wallowing in self pity. You’re a shitty cook, but you’re the only one we got. Get to work.”
“Fuck off”, Sanji says again. “Leave me alone.”
“Why?”
“Just do it! I’m tired”, he says- and he feels it, in how his limbs feel limp, and heavy, like rubber- not the luffy kind.
“God, get over it already.”
Get over it. Get over it.
“What the fuck is your problem?”
“You know what my problem is Shitty- cook? You give up too easy. On your dreams, and on yourself. You ever seen any of us quit like that?”
In theory, of course, he isn’t wrong. But it’s what he’s been trained to do- to see himself as nothing more than a failure, because that is what he is. It scares him, still, after all these years, to dare to see himself as anything more.
“You wanna keep fucking giving up for us. Try harder, asshole.”
“Like you’re any different”, he grunts.
Zoro scowls, his eyes lighting up, hands gripping his sword in warning.
“You think I’ve forgotten?” he continues anyway. “About Thriller Bark? About Kuma?”
“That is different.”
“Oh, is it now?”
“It’s my duty”, Zoro says, slow and careful. Like he’s stating the obvious, and Sanji’s being obtuse. Like he expects Sanji to understand.
And he does.
Of course he does. It’s Zoro. He’s the second in command, the defender, the protector, the first mate. He’s not been just a swordsman in a long, long time. His duty is to the crew now, before his dream. His loyalty is unwavering, and he carries the burden of their lives, the way Luffy shoulders the weight of their dreams.
“What- dying for us? That’s your fucking duty?”
“If that’s what it takes”, he replies, unflinchingly, his conviction etched in stone.
“Oh yeah?”, Sanji snarls. “Does Luffy know that?”
Zoro’s jaw ticks, and he clenches his teeth together, tightening his fists as if struggling to not punch Sanji.
“I didn’t give up.”
You offered him your head.
“Bullshit.”
I saw you, on your knees, begging for our lives.
“It is not the same thing.”
I heard your swords clatter to the ground.
“Oh it isn’t? You gave up, Zoro. You were ready to give it all up.”
I know defeat when I see it, I know surrender, I know what someone looks like when they’ve accepted their fate.
“All of it wouldn’t have mattered if I had done nothing.” It would be ridiculous, in any other context, to hear fucking Zoro of all people admit to that. To hear that his dream wouldn’t mean anything to him anymore, without them around. But all it does is rile Sanji up more.
“It matters! Of course it matters, you stupid Marimo ball!”
“And you don’t?”
“NO! No, I fucking don’t!”, he screams. It’s the most honest he’s been with himself since coming back from Whole Cake, the most vulnerable he’s been with anyone. And it’s to fucking Zoro of all people.
Zoro freezes at that, going absolutely still. It’s almost unnerving, how he looks at Sanji- like he’s searching for something he doesn’t want to find. Then he runs his hand up his face, and sighs.
“I don’t know what happened”, he says. Sanji wonders if he’s referring to Whole Cake Island, or his childhood.
“Whole Cake Island”, he clarifies. “Look, I’ll never question Luffy’s decision.“
He nods, confused about where this is going.
“But I know he had to suffer. So to start off, if you ever end up hurting the Captain again, I’ll skin you like fish.”
That’s fair, if a little terrifying.
Zoro tilts his head, like he’s considering something- and looks back at Sanji, frowning, like he’d rather not be having this conversation. “And… before. With… y’know. Them. Your… the swirly eyebrow crowd.”, Sanji snickers at that. “I don’t know what happened. I won’t ask. I can’t help.”
It’s his attempt at being considerate, he realizes, amused, slightly horrified, and in complete disbelief that a man as emotionally stunted as Zoro felt the need to discuss his issues.
“But you’re crew.”, Zoro says- like it’s a fact, undeniable and true. “We don’t abandon each other. We fight. We don’t give up, not on each other. We do our jobs, and we do them well, or we can’t call ourselves worthy of being members of the Pirate King’s crew.”
Zoro looks at Sanji, forcing his gaze to meet him.
“You can’t cook if you’re dead or gone.”
Sanji laughs at that, because it’s so stupid.
“You can always find another.”
Zoro slams a fist into Sanji’s stomach so hard that he falls back to the ground with a loud bang. Not enough to bleed, but enough to hurt. He leans down, gripping him by the shirt, pulling his face towards his.
“This is why it isn’t the same”, he growls. “This is why it’s different.”
They don’t punch each other, not really. Zoro mock uses his swords, and there’s kicking and sparring, but he’s never hit Sanji like that. Never.
“If I ever quit, I’ll quit knowing I fulfilled my duty. That my dream will live on in him. That I fought back, I did my best- all that I could, and that I went out protecting the crew, so my sacrifice won’t be in vain. But you, you’ll quit because it’s easier than fighting. Because it isn’t worth it, fighting for yourself.“
;You’re worth it, he says, even though he doesn’t. It’s almost sweet, a little mortifying.
“We aren’t going to replace you. Luffy would rather starve.”
Sanji knows that now. He doesn’t need the reminder, really.
Except apparently he does.
Zoro lets go of him, and walks away, hands reaching for the handle of the door.
Before going, he takes one last deep breath, and turns around.
“We have better things to do than run after you. Next time, just ask.”
And he slams the door behind him. Sanji sits there, stunned, for so long he almost forgets to cook lunch. He shoves the incident into a small box in his head full of confusing experiences he pretends never happened- and proceeds to hope he’ll never have to think about it again.
'Just ask.'
Admitting weakness is not something Zoro should ever approve of. Not something he’d condone.
‘Next time, just ask.’
Maybe he will.
________________________________________________
They stare out into the sea, and its wide, endless blue expanse, and so Sanji lets himself feel at home again, in the colorful vessel. The wind almost cradles them, surrounding them in a comfortable embrace- and the blue of the sky stretches over them, impossibly vast, blending together with the crystal water, and it’s the freest he’s ever felt. He lets the cigarette fall out of his hands, because all he needs to fill his lungs right now is the scent of the ocean, heavy and familiar like a weighted blanket.
Then there’s a familiar splash, the sound so immediately recognizable that Sanji doesn’t even have to look to know that Luffy’s fallen in. He jumps in after him, like he has a thousand times, swimming up to the ladder, and dragging him back onto deck.
“You have got to stop, Luffy.”
“IT’S NOT LIKE I MEANT TO!”
“Doesn’t matter. You need to be more careful. What if something happened to you?”
“Don’t be silly Sanji. You’d never let it.”
The water he’s drenched in suddenly feels so much colder than a moment before. He’s proud of course, the weight of his captain’s faith in him has always, always been an honor to bear. But… this time it’s different. This time it feels so absurdly heavy, like it’s crushing his heart, his lungs, till he can’t breathe again.
“Don’t say that Luffy.”
“Why?”
“Because…” Because I’ve already let you down before. Because I hurt you when you just wanted to help. Because I keep making things difficult for you, because I’m weak, because I’m a burden, because one day you’ll fall, and you’ll need me and I won’t be enough to help you. Because you’ll trust me with that stupid big heart of yours, and one day you’ll realize you were a fool for believing it, believing me, and by the time you do, it’ll be too late, and I’ll be able to do nothing but watch as-
“What’s wrong, Sanji?”
“Nothing.”
“....You’re a really bad liar.”
“Shut up.”
“You’d never let anything happen to me, Sanji. You’d save me everytime. Right?”
“Of course. I’d do everything I could. Everything.”
“I know. Me too. You’re nakama. Nothing will hurt you. I won’t let it. You know that too. Right?”
“....ya.”
“Good.”
Sanji doesn’t cry this time. He’s already had a breakdown in front of Luffy, twice in as many weeks would be far too much.
“But what if it does?”
“It won’t.”
“You can't know that. It’s impossible.”
“You’re being silly Sanji. Nothing’s impossible for us.”
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m a bad liar. It’ll be okay.”
“Okay. Okay. I get it.”
“I’m going to be King of the Pirates. And you’ll be right there with me when it happens.”
There’s something about Luffy’s promises that make them easy to believe. Maybe it’s his sheer track record, or his obstinate will, or some combination of the two, but Sanji trusts that they’ll all make it, one way or another.
Luffy’s a moron, sure, but so is Sanji. Ever since he was a child, he’d cling onto foolish little hopes, blinding himself to reality by chasing dreams too close to fantasies. Lose himself in fiction till he could believe that somewhere out there, he’d find something worth living for.
“So you can’t leave, Sanji. There’s no way.”
“I know Captain. I promise.”
He can’t believe in himself. Not yet, not so soon. But he can believe in them, and they’ll believe in him, that’ll be enough.
Always, always be enough.