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One; Alabasta
Scratching of quill on parchment was disastrously interrupted by approaching footsteps – boorish and brazen – that had Sanji swiftly setting the feather aside in its inkwell before the swordsman even entered the room. By the time the door was thrown open, Sanji was already prepared for whatever the swordsman wanted—watching lazily when Zoro came to a stop a few feet away.
Jerking his chin crudely in Sanji’s direction – no greetings, nor formalities; the swordsman was consistent – Zoro demanded without context, “Nami says you know how to play?”
Sanji stared—confused.
“Pardon?”
An impatient frown indented the swordsman’s brow – as if it were Sanji’s fault for not understanding the unhelpfully vague accusations – before huffing irritably and raising his hands. He then began wiggling his fingers. After several seconds to allow for the full effect, Zoro dropped his arms to cross comfortably over his chest and gave Sanji an expectant look.
Sanji blinked once, then smirked.
“Resorting to sorcery, huh?” Sanji sneered, “Swords not working out for you?”
“It’s a piano, you moron .”
Sanji’s lips twisted into a sour pout.
“ So? ” Zoro pressed, “Do you play, or not?”
Chin falling in his hand with effortless grace and a devilish smile curling his lips, Sanji tracked over the swordsman thoughtfully before meeting that hard scowl. He allowed the silence to stretch between them—thoroughly enjoying the momentary high ground. Only when he started to see the vein in the swordsman’s forehead begin to pulse did he respond.
“Maybe,” Sanji purred playfully, “Do that wizard impersonation again and we’ll see.”
Zoro’s patience broke with the unsheathing of a sword.
Two; Jaya
“No, no, no,” Sanji gushed with a swift shake of his head. “They’re scales .”
Reaching across the swordsman – ignoring Zoro’s indignant huff at his invaded personal space – Sanji placed his hand on the keys that had been assaulted moments before. He then executed the octave with ease. A bright cascading of notes filling the small hut before turning his head to send Zoro a look out of the corner of his eye.
“This one is A.” Sanji tapped the key a few times to reinforce his point, “Just go up the keys in order—that’s it.”
Zoro’s eyes narrowed.
Straightening in his seat once more, Sanji gifted the swordsman an impatient look, then waited for him to once more attempt the basics. He watched in awe as Zoro struggled. Managing to get through half the notes before pausing, doubling back, then proceeding to start counting from the end of the keyboard to find his place.
“ Wow ,” Sanji intoned, “Even on an instrument you get hopelessly lost.”
“ Cook ,” Zoro growled in warning.
“Oh, no… Don’t tell me...” Aghast with false concern, Sanji placed a mocking hand over his mouth, “You do know the alphabet, don’t you?”
Their ensuing scuffle knocked over the bench, sent the booklet of music sheets cascading to the floor, and was subsequently ended by Nami’s divine intervention in the form of fist conking both of them on the head. Apologies were given, but they were still forced to sit outside in a timeout.
Three; Long Ring Long Land
“Oi,” Sanji barked, “Wandering moss!”
Beckoning the annoying swordsman over with an impatient hand, Sanji graciously ignored the ungrateful look that twisted the ugly mug and turned his attention back to the neatly positioned shells he’d managed to gather. He’d wandered the shore of the island for a while gathering them. It had been a while since their last lesson.
Zoro stood next to the cook with his arms crossed.
“Cute collection, cook,” Zoro drawled.
“It’s a piano, you dolt.”
Zoro stared flatly, “Those’re shells .”
“No, you—” Sanji bit his tongue.
Zoro smirked.
“ Look ,” Taking a calming breath to keep his anger from getting the better of him, Sanji pointed to the shells. Indicating the ordering of the white ones first, and then the tinier black ones above, “they’re the keys.”
Zoro stared down at the shells for a long moment.
“How are you supposed to play without music?”
“Visualization is an integral part of training,” Sanji scoffed. Eyes flickering over the swordsman snidely, “Thought you of all people would know that… maybe it’s why you’re not as good as you think.”
“What’d you just say?”
“You heard me,” Sanji smirked. “Knew you were just a good-for-nothing muscle-head that only relies on his strength.”
“Bold talk coming from the guy that needed my help to win today.”
“I never would’ve needed it if you hadn’t gotten in my way from the beginning!”
In a flash, they were at each other's throats and making good use of the open terrain of the beach to properly take out their frustrations. Their heated scuffle turned over the sand, causing the seashells to be lost under a flurry by several quickly darted steps—the rest kicked into the ocean.
Four; Galley-La
They’d managed to move past scales.
Working on a simple ditty that Sanji had assumed the swordsman would be able to grasp by now, but an hour in Sanji could only barely recognize the song. Sanji was convinced he could drop a box of cutlery down a flight of stairs and it would sound better. If Zoro’s goal with learning an instrument was to help with his mediation, then Sanji could only assume the swordsman’s happy place consisted of torturing somebody.
“More relaxed,” Sanji ordered— pleaded .
“I am relaxed,” Zoro gritted.
“Your hands ,” Sanji corrected before scoffing, “But it wouldn’t hurt for you to stop hunching like a gargoyle. Bad posture is unattractive.”
“ You’re unattractive,” Zoro grumbled childishly.
A bang echoed throughout the living quarters Galley-La had provided for them, Sanji having just violently slammed the fallboard down in an attempt to crush the swordsman’s fingers. Zoro’s hands were still raised by his head where he had pulled them away before Sanji could succeed. Looking up at the cook flatly as Sanji pushed himself to his feet before rounding on the swordsman.
“Eat shit,” Sanji sneered the word inches from Zoro’s face.
Already pulling out a lighter while fishing a pack of smokes from his breast pocket, Sanji stormed out of the building while muttering murderous promises under his breath. He couldn’t believe he kept wasting his time with this. Next time Sanji was going to put the swordsman’s head inside and slam the cover.
Five; Thousand Sunny
Seated next to the swordsman, Sanji elegantly danced his fingers across the keys in a sprightly melody that rang out happily into the quiet evening. He then paused to allow Zoro to follow suit with remarkably less tact. Taking his time to press down every finger – one at a time – so each note sounded like it was being poked out of the piano rather than gorgeously coaxed.
“Faster,” Sanji murmured.
Zoro tried again without complaint, but it was still unrefined.
“No,” Sanji shook his head, but his tone was gentle. “Like this .”
Placing his hand atop the swordsman’s, Sanji aligned their fingers – pads gently atop each nail – allowing him to guide Zoro through the song with a bit more finesse. Sanji desperately tried to focus on the music, but found himself distracted. Unable to stop himself from noticing Zoro’s hands – for what felt like the first time – compared to his own.
Sanji’s fingers were slightly longer than the swordsman’s, but narrower—his knuckles more pronounced.
Meanwhile, Zoro’s hands were weathered. Months spent at sea under the harsh sun had dried his skin, and years of training had hardened his callouses. Scars and pockmarks dotted the flesh, but were startling mirrors to the knicks and burns Sanji had collected in the kitchen—within their differences they shared similarities.
Sanji managed to get through two bars of the song, but on the third Zoro snatched his hand away.
Fist clenched protectively to the side, Zoro watched Sanji with a critical look that held far more than just an embarrassment—there was also an unnerving truth that they’d both been coming to slowly accept. Sanji's hand hovered over the keys. A sting rang throughout his palm from how swiftly Zoro had pulled out from under Sanji’s touch, but perhaps his feelings were only exacerbating it.
They stared at each other for a time, before Zoro broke the connection. Without words or violence, the swordsman rose to his feet – a hard line to his shoulders – storming away to leave Sanji seated alone.
Plus One; Thriller Bark
With a final, long drag on his cigarette, Sanji allowed the nicotine to soak into his exhausted body. He’d already gone through half a pack sitting by the swordsman’s side, but he needed to take the edge off. There were a lot of conflicting thoughts rattling around inside his head, but right now Sanji had no interest in dwelling on any of them.
Sanji exhaled the smoke in a controlled stream.
Watching it curl up to the blue sky – twisting and coiling – before dispersing until not a trace was left—everything was remarkably tranquil. A mellow breeze drifted in off the surrounding ocean. It danced through the nearby trees causing their branches to rustle in magnificent harmony, and it crept through the debilitated walls of the old castle creating haunting echoes of bodiless voices.
Lifting his hand, Sanji inspected the finished cigarette with jilted remorse; wanting another, but knowing it wouldn’t fix what was actually bothering him. He dropped his hand with a sigh. Head falling forward to level a look on the unconscious swordsman that was plaguing his thoughts – blinding fury blended with crippling relief to create a confusing miasma of feelings – Sanji wanted to shake the bastard awake, but didn’t know whether to kick him… or kiss him.
Sanji pushed to his feet.
Flicking his cigarette to the ground directly in his path, Sanji stepped on the smoldering cherry and ground it out with a twist of his heel for good measure. He needed to distract himself.
Walking over to the piano that sat prominently within the crumbling remains of Moriah’s castle – now lifeless and silent – Sanji let his hand fall to rest on the rim of the case. His fingers drummed along the polished wood. Indecisiveness traipsed with each fall his fingers before his romantic side finally got the better of him as he fell down onto the bench and slipped his legs gracefully beneath the piano.
Flipping up the fallboard to reveal the keys, Sanji sat for a while and just stared at them; thinking fondly of the skeleton that would no doubt be filling the Sunny with endless, wonderful music—far more complex than the infantile melodies Zeff had taught him to pass the time. He felt a little bold touching the instrument after someone so much more experienced.
Shooting a quick look to the swordsman, Sanji finally lifted his hands to the keys as he decided on a softer song to keep from bothering the injured man. That first note was disconcertingly loud in the unsettling quiet. Ringing out through the abandoned castle – a lonely sound – before Sanji found the confidence to fall into the song.
Fingers traipsing slowly across the keys as he played the melody, he allowed himself to get comfortably lost in the music for a few blissful minutes. Eyes sliding shut. Body swaying slowly to the song that he’d played many an evening to close out the Baratie—it brought a melancholy smile to his lips.
Remembering that restaurant, and the old man, and all the cooks; he hadn’t been gone long and yet it felt like a lifetime ago. So much had happened in such a short amount of time— he’d changed so much in such a short amount of time.
Never would he have expected to get this far across the Grand Line in such a short amount of time, to go face to face against the World Government, or come so close to losing someone important to him that he’d only realized it once it might be too late.
Even now with the swordsman alive a few feet away, that image of Zoro’s blood soaked body – barely on his feet – wouldn’t leave Sanji’s mind. A haunting silhouette. That walk back to the castle with Zoro’s limp body in his arms had been the longest of his life—the memory alone had his heart skipping an anxious beat.
Nearing the end of the song, Sanji found himself slowing down until his hands had frozen entirely and eventually fell into his lap.
Sanji sat in the unfilled din—unable to finish.
A sharp trill of a key rang out.
Eyes shooting open, Sanji glanced up in surprise to find the weary swordsman – haggard and bandaged, but awake— alive – standing next to him with a hand extended to the piano. His solitary note hung in the air. Pointedly not meeting Sanji’s eyes, Zoro’s continuation to the song a subtle response to the mountain of things needing to be resolved between them.
Zoro moved to sit down beside Sanji.
Practically falling onto the bench – his body was obviously teetering at its limits – Zoro went extremely rigid before managing to relax and turn to face the piano. A pained huff forced out through gritted teeth. If it were anyone else but the stubborn swordsman, Sanji would’ve barked at them to lie back down.
Poorly masking a grimace of pain, Zoro brought both hands up – with a bit of difficulty given Chopper’s extensive bandaging – to continue playing the melody that Sanji hadn’t been able to finish. His movements were unrefined and clunky. Each key was hit far too hard causing the song to move at a clomp rather than a meander, but regardless, the song was there—decipherable and understood.
Bringing the refrain back around to the beginning, Zoro continued from the start and grew steadily more confident as he did. Hands moving more practically, and the notes coming through just a little bit cleaner. That effortless confidence the swordsman brought to his craft was finally transferring through into this discipline and it was captivating to witness.
Sanji couldn’t tear his gaze away.
Knowing he couldn’t break their silence, Sanji decided to communicate in a different way and turned to the piano; beginning to play a simple harmony to match Zoro’s tune—complimenting every note he played along the way. Zoro wasn’t able explore the notes as easily as Sanji did, but quickly picked up on Sanji’s intentions. Playing with a bit more pep as they went along, until Zoro was effortlessly allowing his work to blend with Sanji’s without any effort on either part.
It wasn’t perfect – far from it – but it was them.
By the time the song reached its inevitable conclusion, everything that Sanji had wanted to say – the good, the bad, and the absolutely horrific – was no longer needed. He was content. They understood each other perfectly without words—like they always did.
An irritated, but fond, sigh exploded from Sanji at the bothersome swordsman before allowing himself to slump a little in his relief. Not realizing just how much stress he’d been carrying while waiting for Zoro to wake. Head flopping to the side to land – a tad heavily judging from Zoro’s grunt of pain – onto the swordsman’s shoulder as the two of them sat before the piano in a companionable silence.
After several minutes, Sanji spoke with a smile, “You still need to loosen up a bit.”
“Bite me,” Zoro grunted with a chuckle.
The End