Archive of Our Own

There are things meant to happen, Sanji knew it.

Even if those are painful, Sanji learned it the hardest way.

The fact that he was born in such a prestigious family, hard and rough, tortured in every possible way, was meant to happen. So he could appreciate the kindness his mother had been displaying, for him to develop his own.

The chance of him escaping his unwanted kind of life, straying on a ship as a little cook, boasting over some dream-like thing called All Blue, was meant to happen. So he could meet an old geezer in the vast sea, one who didn’t laugh at his dream, for him not to feel alone. 

The raging storm too, the starvation for months on a cliff, building a sea restaurant, running it together with the same old geezer for years. Those also were meant to happen. So he could learn to cook the way he wanted, meeting some beautiful girls along the way, settling himself in a new reality, much more real than his childish dream.

And maybe, just maybe, this mess caused by some straw hatted boy, that led to him becoming a pirate himself, was meant to happen.

So he could meet him.

But what’s for?

Zoro was an utterly stupid person. It was the very first impression from the first time Sanji saw him when he was working in Baratie as the sous chef. The very fact that the green-haired man turned out to be one of this errand boy’s friends was already stupid to begin with, as they all talked about some silly dreams. Stupid was this mosshead had the nerve to aim for the World’s Greatest Swordsman.

Then, just when Sanji thought it couldn’t be more stupid, the swordsman challenged someone called Hawkeye, the current World’s Greatest Swordsman. More stupid when the blond’s cigarette almost fell from his mouth as he was dumbfounded to see that fool still had the absurd courage to openly—and pridefuly—take the final slash on his chest. More stupid as he clearly heard the very same man still blurted some nonsense oath to the errand boy, that he would never lose again.

But stupidity was not something beyond the sous chef’s own realm, as he felt intimidated by the swordsman’s presence for no reason. As if this swordsman’s very existence was like an insult to him. It felt stupid because he thought this swordsman should be just like him who had long, long abandoned what he once terribly wanted to find in this vast blue sea, just to survive, to stay alive. That Sanji swore he would be the first one to laugh if the green-haired man died before achieving his dream.

Stupid because within days he was also the one who bit his own tongue when he changed his mind, once again deciding to pursue his ambition and joining Straw Hats crew as their chef. He huffed at everything, everyone, but mostly at his other stupid decision to work together with this pirate hunter to save their beautiful navigator, when moments ago, they fought with each other. Even more stupid as he didn’t say anything when he noticed the swordsman wasn’t fully recovered from Hawkeye’s slash but still fought ruthlessly without complaining.

But maybe this was the most stupid, as he began to grasp what kind of idiot this swordsman was, Sanji started to care. He really paid attention, even against the furious storm on the way to Grand Line, when Zoro on his left called out his dream once again, and the cook felt rather serene unlike the first time he heard it.

After they went through many things from Twin Cape to Whiskey Peak where a princess joined their sail, then to Little Island, the cook realized how reckless Zoro could be. He realized how the man always wanted to win even if he had to lose his limbs. Perhaps that was what put Sanji at ease when they picked up a reindeer for the ship’s doctor from the snowy island, so someone can treat that stupid mosshead properly whenever he got wounded. So he didn’t have to keep an eye for Zoro when they arrived at Alabasta, interfering with the country’s problem.

Sanji still didn’t know why he had to do all of that though, nor why he felt odd whenever he looked at Zoro. He didn’t even know since when but something kept pushing him to draw nearer towards the swordsman. That he always ended up provoking, picking a fight over petty things, exchanging blows on a daily basis, not to mention being competitive in almost everything—especially since this green blockhead had a bounty on his own, the only one other than their captain.

It became more odd because that green idiot always responded in the same way, that sometimes he was the one who initiated those things. Sanji then interpreted it as a mutual sense of rivalry since they always wanted to beat each other. Though in life and death situations, regardless of whether they wanted to admit it or not, they could rely on one another, just like how Luffy could count on them.

However, even with this realization, the weird feeling didn’t fade away. Instead, it grew even stronger during their stay in Alabasta until they finally left and parted with Princess Vivi. The cook sighed almost every second as now they had one less lady on board. The only thing that could distract him from this the-hell-knows feeling. All of this thinking only made him crave some tobacco more.

Strolling alone at the upper deck, he took and clenched the cigarette between his lips, then stroked all of his pockets before mumbling, “Shit. Where is it?”

Then he heard a clicking sound, followed by something warm from his side. He turned his head and blinked. Once at Mosshead who appeared out of nowhere, and once at the man’s hand, holding the lighter he was searching for.

A wrinkle shaped on Zoro’s brows, “Hurry up, shitty cook,” and it snapped the cook to lean in immediately and ignited the cigarette.

Sanji breathed in and puffed, “How did—”

“It fell during the marines attack.” The muscular man took his crewmate’s hand and placed the lighter on his palm. “For a self-proclaimed first class chef, you’re quite clumsy.” 

Then for some reason Zoro looked away. His other hand moved to rub his neck, and there was a slight red hue on his cheeks—but Sanji was too confused to notice.

“Back in Alabasta you’re not bad at all, cook. At least not annoying as usual,” the swordsman said, after being silent for a while.

The blond man was still processing what was happening when the warmth around his hand disappeared as Zoro started walking past him. However, Sanji could hear it crystal clear, when the other pirate murmured, leaving the cook more confused than ever.

“I think I like it like that.”

Sanji didn’t move, even until the sound of the boots stomping the wooden floor was gone. 

After a few minutes, Sanji shook his head. He convinced himself he might have misheard and didn’t want to think about it. He thought he better joined the others sulking over Vivi than thinking about this stupid mosshead. He had to be grateful as another beautiful lady appeared.

Now this one must be meant to happen.

What happened next was, they were sailing in the sky, literally. As usual, the crew was a magnet of trouble—though this whole sky island already had a serious problem prior to their arrival. But even with all the commotion, it didn’t stop them from having a campfire in the forest, just near the poor Going Merry, planning to get some gold the next day.

Getting tired of what happened right after they settled in the sky, in addition to what they’d been through in Mock Island, Sanji barely remembered what that idiot said. That also meant, he still hadn’t figured out what the swordsman meant by ‘like that’. Or rather, he avoided it on purpose. He would’ve forgotten it completely if he didn’t notice some slight changes of attitude from that particular crewmate.

Zoro still picked a fight whenever he could, apparently, yet for some reason, the cook felt the man had been staring at him more often, in an unsettling way all the more. Not to mention this same weird feeling that pooled down his stomach every time he thought about it. He had been trying to shake it off by swinging to Nami and Robin, or occupy himself in the kitchen. But this time, the night watch just had to be that shitty mosshead, and he had to deliver the snack alone by himself—that he usually did without any problem.

The others were already sleeping. Sanji managed to get back to their ship and made some snacks in the galley before heading back. His heart was thumping hard as he approached the campfire but couldn’t find any sign of a green haired man. Then he saw someone standing on one hand was moving up and down steadily not far. He knew right away and walked closer.

As expected, the shirtless man was doing some kind of exercise—in the middle of the night—and thankfully, he was facing the other direction from where Sanji came from.

The blond man sighed a relief because he just needed to put this down and—

“How’s your wound?” Zoro suddenly spoke, with his back still on the blond man who barely caught the glass before he could drop it due to shock.

Sanji didn’t answer right away and carefully put the glass near the roots of the tree. “I’m good.” He immediately started walking away before the situation could get more awkward and he could’ve saved himself only if that moss idiot didn’t complain in the last seconds.

“What’s this? Where’s my booze?”

The cook whipped his head, frowning. “It’s called tea, you moron. And no booze until we’re back to the blue sea. We are running out of it because a certain dumbass just couldn’t stop drinking throughout the night.”

Sanji put some weight on his feet, in preparation to fight yet Zoro didn’t seem to be interested. He only sent a placid look at the blond’s outburst and a deadly gaze.

“Problem, Mosshead?” Sanji snarled, once again trying to provoke. But the man in front of him still had the same look, didn’t show any incoming nag or physical attack as usual, and that irritated Sanji more.

“What? Say it already!”

The other pirate finally blinked and picked his glass up, “Thanks.” Then he gulped the tea like he never complained a moment before.

“Huh? No. That can’t be it,” Sanji mumbled at himself, disregarding what he just saw. He became more convinced something was wrong. He stomped one foot on some root. “There must be something else you wanna say. Come on, brainless swordsman, just say it!”

Zoro plainly shrugged. “Say what, dartboard? What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, shithead! You tell me!”

They argued back and forth, asking the same thing over and over again without getting any answer for no one knew how long. Amazingly, they could manage their voice so they wouldn’t wake the others. Little did they know, the gap between them was also getting lessened and lessened until there were only inches away from each other.

It was Zoro who realized it later. Or maybe he realized something else, but there was indeed a silent pause before he opened his mouth.

“Fine. Maybe this can explain it.”

Sanji raised a brow at the brown eyes staring at him in all seriousness, different from whatever they had before.

The next thing he knew, the cigarette was plugged away from his mouth, replaced by Zoro’s thin lips. All he felt was the taste of green tea mixed with a bit of saké from the late party, and all he smelled was the scent of the man’s sweat merging with the plantish breeze from the forest.

It was a cold night, yet Sanji felt rather warm. Perhaps because Zoro’s arms were holding his waist, or because the man’s body was burning up along with his own. And this damn feeling in his stomach started storming wild to his head. He then knew, it was clearly not a sense of rivalry like he always thought. Nonetheless, it was mutual.

Sanji didn’t pull away. He didn’t stop this mosshead from grazing his lips against his, at least not until he needed to breathe. He retreated a little, giving some space between their lips, just enough to mutter. 

“This didn’t explain anything, you moron.”

Sanji pouted, getting annoyed as he could see Zoro grinning wide. Then both of his hands reached the swordsman’s face, pulling him closer once again.

“But I think I get it.”

The next day, another battle occurred, against a god, apparently. Sanji had to face him and got struck by lightning, not only once but twice. But as always, their captain managed to beat the so-called god, saving the island once again.

In other words, when another night fell, another campfire would be lit, another kiss would be made, at least for the two of them. This time, Sanji approached the swordsman first—it’s not hard to find a distinct greenhead from afar—then he dragged the man by his arm to go behind a huge tree. Zoro didn't resist at all, to Sanji's surprise. The swordsman leaned his back on the tree on his own, letting the blond take the initiative.

It took a minute for Sanji to finally lean in. It was after he saw his own reflection on Zoro's eyes. Then there were only the two of them, kissing in the shadows, where everything else turned into oblivion.

Though this destination was made mostly based on Luffy’s whim, Sanji didn’t regret any of this.

Going to the Sky Island was really worth it.

—

Back to the blue sea, everything went back to normal like usual. Sanji woke up at dawn, serving breakfast to the beautiful ladies before the rascals, helping with the necessary duty to pass the hurricane, fight with mosshead, lunch, occasional snacks, fight with mosshead, dinner, then this newly routine with the same mosshead at night before he went to sleep. 

It's true, they still fought all day long, anything still could provoke them in any way. Yet, as if the tension was sunk along with the sun, when the night came, the kicks and blades against each other were replaced by soft touches. Though the way they talk stayed the same, Sanji didn’t hate it. Sweet talks were never the option anyway, because those were too hard to listen to. They were both raised through hardships, after all. Maybe with all of these secret night sessions, they could finally get along with each other. That was what Sanji thought.

Yet, it turned out they were too aware of other people’s presence.

Somehow both of them ended up in a team, to fight some goons of some whatsoever pirates who challenged the Straw Hats in battle games called Davy Back Fight. It was rather a battle of pride, of who would win the game single handedly, as both refused to ask for each other’s help.

But then, the cook’s dignity was at the end of a cliff as he was lying down on the ground together with the swordsman, after being thrown off here and there. Something felt uncanny, and he didn’t know which. Was it the way Zoro was the one who first opened his mouth and asked for help, or the way Sanji felt somewhat lost to him, or the way he also felt relieved and agreed to help. Either way, to his surprise, they managed to cooperate and score the game before winning the whole game.

They won, but deep down Sanji felt lost to this mosshead, his forever rival.

But he didn’t think much about it, as things escalated quickly after that. With the sudden appearance of Admiral Aokiji, who apparently targeted their latest crew member, Nico Robin, everyone was too preoccupied to recover themselves. Especially Luffy and Robin who were literally frozen by the Admiral’s ice attack. Sanji tried to keep his cool and served all his crewmates with the best quality food he could make, while quietly checking on them.

The realization of their complete loss over the unanticipated stronger being affected each of them in different ways, that it made the atmosphere a bit gloomy for a few days until they decided to set sail and continue their voyage. Only this mosshead who seemingly remained calm, still with his excessive training and napping routine, albeit the training part got more intense. Because of that, Sanji intentionally increased Zoro’s share of night snacks which granted him a small kiss in return, though not as much as he wanted. The blond man couldn’t blame him, maybe Zoro was already exhausted from the training.

If this was for Zoro to become the greatest swordsman in the world, Sanji would stay in place.

Days went by, they all eventually arrived at Water Seven. What happened next pretty much busied all of them. Robin’s disappearance, their money got stolen, Luffy and Usopp having a quarrel over Going Merry that led the long-nosed guy to leave the crew. Aside from the limited time they managed to steal, Sanji and Zoro couldn’t spend much time together.

All of the crews mostly walked on their own, and somehow the cook found himself back to their old ship. The main problem of their visit here was because of this ship—Going Merry, the real victim of all battles and storms they had been through. He hopped in, expecting Usopp would come out any moment but it was empty, indicating the rightful owner was probably in town.

Sanji used this chance to look around every corner of the ship once again. At that moment, he realized how bad the ship was. The wooden planks were all moldy and creaked a lot when he stepped on them. There were some planks nailed over some broken ones, meant to be some kind of patches—Usopp’s hard work. He felt bad. He contributed some of them whenever he fought with Zoro.

Other than that, he felt nostalgic. He might not be the first lodger of this ship, but he still had so many good times nevertheless. Some had Zoro in it, and recently, it was nothing but that mosshead idiot. The blond man chuckled at himself, as he arrived at the back of the meeting room, out in the open space, reminiscing that time when he had a night watch and Zoro came to see him.

“We did it the first time here.”

A familiar voice came from behind, bringing him back to the present. Sanji didn’t need to glance to know who it was and let the man embrace him from his back, dipping his chin on the cook’s shoulder.

He held the muscular hands around his waist. “Came for some sentimentality?”

The swordsman pressed his lips against Sanji’s neck. “I got lost.”

Liar. It was obvious that the idiot came here deliberately. He never admitted it when he got lost. Even if he really did get lost on his way here (no, he certainly did), his intention was clear. This cactus head had been acting all tough before as if the fact that Going Merry was done for didn’t bother him. And this man never showed his true feelings let alone worded it.

Up until now, they had never defined what they really were. Sanji didn’t mind that, but he was just curious: What did Zoro think about him?

Sanji began to ponder, as he turned around, looking further into the brown dilated eyes, back into the journey they had had ever since they met. They hadn’t known each other for long, actually. Only weeks to months, not more than that, and yet that night Zoro kissed him, and yet he kissed him back. And yet the kiss kept happening whenever they could, just like this time, as the slender fingers crawled over the white thin fabric, up to the strong jaw.

Sanji might not know what this dumbass thought about him but he knew what he wanted to do right now, as some words managed to slip from his mouth, turning into whispers that sounded more like a command.

“Hey, let’s do it here for the last time.”

And he knew Zoro was thinking the same, as the muscular arms wrapped him closer, pressing his chapped lips against his own, hard enough to make them swell the next day.

Sanji realized later, though much sooner than he would’ve wished, that this might be a bad idea. Not only this one last-time session but the whole thing, right from the first time he laid his eyes on this swordsman in Baratie. The way Zoro’s determination felt both so genuine and irritating that it left the blond man breathless, might be really bad. Because he knew Zoro had the power over him, as he didn’t protest when Zoro started unbuckling the belt around his waist, working his hands through the dresspants.

This might be worse, because when Sanji’s body already familiarized itself with the other crewmate, as the man entered him and made a way to his hot, sweet spot, he started to have a reverie. And it kept ringing in his head, as much as the sound of piercings jingling along with his heavy breath, as Zoro started pounding his hips, finding the right rhythm until they moved in sync.

This might be even worse, because in every thrust, Sanji felt lightheaded. The more he scrunched his eyes, the more vivid he could see, that after this they would still embrace each other somewhere else. Maybe not on a ship, maybe they would rent a cheap room on some small island, so they could lie down on a much more comfortable mattress, not some moldy wooden floor. So they wouldn’t need to be worried about the bad weather, or getting caught by other crewmates.

Or maybe they would take a year or two off their piracy life and try to live an ordinary one in a small town, far from the sea. So they could try the local cuisine along with the alcohol, or they could harvest some fruits and vegetables to cook for a daily meal. They might miss the stars or the sound of the waves, but Sanji always thought that it would be okay as long as they had each other. As long as they could be together.

Then this might become the worst, because when Sanji opened his eyes, seeing the man on top of him shuddering and gasping in relief, he started to hope that one day all of his visions would come in reality. That they could forget the life they had had before, forget the reasons why they ventured the ocean in the first place. Worst because when the swordsman was relaxed on top of him, still peppering him with small kisses, Sanji came to realize that he always craved for all of the warmth and care the man displayed. That he wanted Zoro only for himself.

Worst of all, if all Sanji needed to do was to give up what he’d been pursuing, in exchange of having a life together with Zoro for the rest of his life, he might really do it without hesitation.

However, that thought had to be put aside for much later, as things went south in matters of hours. Sanji was already on the sea train, heading to one of Marine’s major strongholds, Enies Lobby, for the sake of retrieving Robin back. Another inevitable fight he had to face, together with the rest of Straw Hats crewmates, this time with the famous CP9 agents.

The cook fought back and forth, keeping his chivalrous dignity when he got a female opponent, still getting competitive with the dumb swordsman but earned their victory on their own. Then they had to defend their only way to escape the surrounded island against Marine HQ captains.

Then, miraculously, they were back on Going Merry, swaying back to wherever the sea was carrying them. It was really the last time they were on that ship, before it couldn’t go any further and had to be put to rest.

Sanji didn't shed a tear, because he thought that had to happen, so they could have a bigger ship, more proper for their next adventure. Even so, he wondered if there was a part of him that sank along with their ship.

—

Straw Hats were sailing on their brand new ship Thousand Sunny, together with a new member, Franky. Big celebration was thrown, as always, and now they were heading for the next destination.

After the party ended, they were scattered around, looking at whatever the new ship had in store. Sanji cooped himself in the kitchen, washing the dishes, already thinking about what he should make for the night snacks. Perhaps he would make extra onigiri for that stupid swordsman.

Sanji stopped his movement, thinking back to the recent news about the crew that felt thrilling yet nauseating. It was about the bounty on each one of them, including himself. He was too focused on the cursed poster at first, but now that he thought about it, now they couldn’t freely go anywhere because marines would chase after them wherever they went.

That was when a huge rock hit his mind, crumbling all of his hope, the life with the one he really wanted, the one he really loved. Just when he thought the worst could never become any worse.

The cook stiffened his hands on the dish, as he recalled what the swordsman said before to everyone. Zoro was right, they were not playing pirates like kids here. They never were. Aiming for something big would cost something big too. Sanji should’ve expected any of this once he decided to become a pirate, that he would be both a target and enemy, with guns and swords pointing at him every single day, where peace was not an option. He should’ve known this would happen anyway, no matter how hard he tried to be discreet.

So why, why was his chest throbbing so hard now that he knew his hope would really end up as a mere fantasy?

No. Why did he think about it in the first place? Why did he imagine that far?

But what if… What if— 

The blond man held his breath, as another thought crossed his mind, before letting out a long sigh, resuming to wash the dishes in silence. Sanji might want Zoro for him only but he couldn’t say the same for that mosshead. He might get moved by Zoro’s stubborn act back then, one of the reasons why he decided to join the crew, but the swordsman was already a pirate before him. To be truthful, Sanji thought, anyone would see Zoro as an epitome of a true warrior, a strong hustler who would move forward, would never stop for anyone. Not even for him.

Zoro was never his anyway, Sanji knew. In fact, this man never belonged to anyone. Even if there were someone, it would be no less than their captain Luffy, another strong being above his caliber, the one who wanted to become the Pirate King. Even without their captain, the pirate hunter already had a big ambition he’d been holding to. So big that there was no place for someone like Sanji to stand beside him.

That was the reason why the cook decided to hold back, as he didn’t complain when Zoro declined his invitations so many times only to hone his skills more. That was the reason why, when they entered the dark sea, to some wandering grotesque island, Thriller Back, the blond man didn’t try to walk alongside him, just watching the green-haired man from behind. Why he didn’t object, when Zoro took most of the commands to fight the titan zombie. He didn’t say anything, when that mosshead recklessly charged towards the newly appeared shichibukai Kuma right after they just got their shadows back. He didn’t stop him because he always knew—Zoro would beat the enemy, and Sanji would be there to witness it.

If it was for the sake of achieving that man’s dream, the cook wouldn’t dare to get in the way.

Therefore, Sanji couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the unwithering swordsman sit down, bowing his head to the ground upon the giant shichibukai that screamed more like a nightmare, even when the sun already rose. What he couldn’t believe the most was when the strong man firmly, gallantly offered his life in the place of the future Pirate King.

Sanji was stunned, mouth open wide. What the fuck...?

“If I can’t protect my captain,” the green-haired man went on, “then my ambition means nothing.” 

Nothing.

The word echoed in Sanji’s ears, sending chills down his spine. In a sense, this had happened before, back in the day when Zoro fought Hawkeye. The man once said: he would rather die than defeat. At the time, Sanji only thought the defeat that idiot meant was simply his foolish pride to step back from the enemy’s attack. Definitely not like this, throwing his dream away for someone else’s. Even so, Sanji thought, even though he really could and would never be able to decipher what that shit head’s thinking, he totally agreed with that remark.

However, for Sanji, his own defeat translated into something else. It wasn’t when he couldn’t claim his victory, nor when he chose to run away from the battlefield, not even when he went against his chivalrous principles towards women. It was when he admitted that he was not as strong as Zoro. That no matter how he tried, he was always a weak man, one step behind Zoro. That the hard-headed man had become his greatest strength, ever since the man’s dream had slipped into his prayers. But then the very same person dared to dispose of what he’d been aiming for?

And this had to happen just so Sanji could live on and reach his own dream?

Fuck it.

“Hold on a second, you bastard.”

Before he knew it, the blond man was already on his feet. He had no fucking idea what that mosshead was thinking. Yet he, too, didn’t know what he was doing either, as he staggeringly walked, limping past the stoned swordsman, daringly facing off the shichibukai himself.

Perhaps his pride was so hurt that he chose to use this chance to finally stand ahead of the dumbass. So hurt that he claimed he was worth being killed more than that mosshead idiot, that he started spilling some nonsense shits about him giving the most trouble in the future. Perhaps Sanji always knew that if he was gone, the crew could always find another cook. But if Zoro was gone, what would happen to his ambition? What about the crew? What about him?

Sanji puffed out a smoke, which seemed more like a sigh. “Hey, tell everyone to take care.” He didn’t turn around. He didn’t want to see what kind of face his crewmate made as he was about to obtain his victory. Though he was not sure if everything would get back to normal after this, at the very least, he knew he would not regret any of this.

If his death was bound to happen for Zoro to realize his dream…

Thus, as his head was held up high, feet rooting on the ground, the blond man had come to term with his decision. Sanji chose to die. He would rather die than admit he was not strong enough to protect this man. He would rather never find All Blue that he’d been dreaming of. He would rather never get back to Baratie and meet his old geezer again. He would rather have Black Leg Sanji end his career right after his debut. No more setting sail with Straw Hats. No more fighting with that marimo idiot. No more his touches and kisses. But it didn’t matter to him. It didn’t matter as long as Zoro lived.

Sanji would rather have all the pain that would soon ebb away together with his life than to lose this moron for eternity. That was what’s supposed to happen.

So he never expected anything like a huge thump on his left side together with a glimpse of the green-haired man coming from behind. The nightmare shifted in a second, as the cook turned around and saw the sturdy figure looking down at him, egotistically standing firm on his resolve. Sanji then knew that, even in this situation, Zoro refused to let his rival win, forcefully ramming the biggest defeat right on the blond’s face. 

“You…” selfish bastard. Sanji kept trying to gather himself but he kept losing his balance, kept losing his grip on the muscular arms, on his resolution. He almost couldn’t see him anymore, eyes getting blurry.

Fuck... Not you… Let me…

At last, he could only silently, begrudgingly, accept his defeat and passed out.

—

Sanji opened his eyes then blinked several times to make sure his eyes were working, because everything was black in his sight. He dimly could see his both hands but almost nothing below his waist. At least, he knew he was still lying down though it was too dark to know where he was.

He groaned, trying to push himself up to sit. What happened? He couldn’t really remember until something clicked on his mind. A series of memories flooded in: their attempt to get their stolen shadows, then a fight with Luffy’s zombie and the zombie-controller shichibukai, then they won the battle, then another huge shichibukai appeared, then—shit. Sanji already stood up straight, still in the middle of darkness that seemed endless.

What about Zoro?

Somehow he already started running aimlessly, shouting, “Mosshead! You hear me?” but got nothing in return, almost expectedly. Fuck. He didn’t even know where this was or where he was heading, how was he supposed to find that idiot? And where’s everybody?

“Zoro? Guys? Where are you? Anyone?” Sanji felt his throat was going to burst as he had been shouting for a hell long time. Then he gradually stopped running, voice getting croaky, “Fuck… Where are you, shithead…”

“I’m here, cook.”

Suddenly a light radiated from behind, outlining some elongated shadow of his own that overlapped another one, but most importantly, that voice. He knew.

“Damn you, Mosshead,” he sighed a relief before turning around. “Are you deaf or—” then he just stopped at the silhouette of a man standing tall. He knew it was Zoro, they’d been crewmates long enough to recognize right away, but something didn’t sit right with him.

“Hey, Mosshead, you okay?” Sanji approached carefully, this time he was sure something kept dripping from this man’s face and body. He would’ve thought it was mere sweat from that extreme training but it was too condensed. It looks like…

Sanji flinched, eyes widened at the horror sight he got once it was visible enough. It was exactly what he thought, but in a much more horrid look. Almost as if the swordsman had been through hell—or maybe he really did, because the man was drenched in dark red which Sanji knew right away what it was. Suddenly, he could smell the scent of metal hanging in the air.

He reached Zoro’s cheek and he could feel the blood begin to stream down to his own hand. What really happened? The cook only asked in silence but the other pirate seemed to hear it aloud and answered in the most unreal way, especially with his unbelievable look.

“Nothing,” Zoro said firmly. “Nothing happened.”

Sanji skipped a breath. “What the fuck, idiot?!” he grasped Zoro’s soaked shirt, trying hard to ignore all the blood that kept oozing everywhere on the swordsman’s body. “There’s no way nothing happened! What did that bastard do to you?”

He always knew this shitty man was always adamant regarding his well being but this was plain stupid. It was not even something hidden, it was clearly, visibly seen in his eyes, that Zoro was in torment.

However, the other pirate still answered the same. It sounded almost like a broken recorder. Sanji felt his heart was squeezed, contrasting with his grip that began to lose. He soon realized that it was futile to ask. Zoro must be suffering, he still thought, but this idiot would never speak of it, since the blond man knew how mullish this man could be. This idiot would never show it. Not even to him.

As Sanji’s eyes started brimming with water, staring at the brown eyes that looked more like dead, guilt started filling his chest. It felt suffocating, as he stepped in, laying his head on the crook of Zoro’s neck, because now he was sure, this might be his fault. The more he embraced the man, the more blood stained his golden hair and clothes, the more he became convinced—he should’ve stopped Zoro back then. He shouldn’t have let him fight alone from the beginning. It became more agonizing, as he couldn’t spot any shade of warmth he’d always found, because he knew that he could’ve prevented all of this, only if he was the last man standing. Only if he was stronger.

“Tell me, you dumbass,” the cook whimpered, “why are you always like this…” it hurt me too. Sanji added silently.

Just when he thought he couldn’t get any response, he heard the swordsman say something other than before, but still with the cold robotic tone.

“Because you are too weak. You can never stand this.”

The words instantly clawed deep into Sanji’s heart, affirming the thought he just had. He immediately pulled back to face the man but what he saw was something eerie. More blood gushing out a lot heavier from the top of the greenhead that also looked like it started… melting? Before the cook could comprehend, everything happened so fast until he realized there was nothing left but a pool of blood under his feet.

“Zoro….?” He hopelessly murmured to the empty space. “No… No no no…”

Zoro might be right, Sanji couldn’t stand any of this, as he was already on his knees. The cook lifted his hands, and looked at the dark reddish colour on his palms that began trembling together with his ground. No, Sanji finally thought, that idiot was absolutely right. He was never ready to face it. The only reason Zoro was hurt was because…

The future World’s Greatest Swordsman was gone because…

“I’m too weak,” Sanji sobbed. He was too weak; he couldn’t fight that shichibukai. He couldn’t even die in Zoro’s place. “I’m sorry… Come back to me…” The blond man started crying his heart out.

“Zoro…!!!”

Sanji woke up with a gasp, already sat up on his bed, bathed in his sweat. He scanned through to see where he was at a glance then realized he was in the boys' room of their ship. He rubbed his forehead. A bad dream? Not surprising, actually, since it was not the first time he had such a scary dream. But the scariest was, it stemmed from his memory because it did happen in reality. Zoro’s horrible look did appear in front of his eyes that morning. It had been a week since that time, three days since they set sail, but the sight still haunted him until recently.

He turned his head to the right side and found the swordsman was sleeping quietly. How could that idiot be fast asleep when he was supposed to be in pain? He wondered. It was always Sanji who got the terrifying dream or anxiously stayed awake throughout the night. At least, it was what it looked like. Because Zoro remained just like he always was, with all of his excessive training, napping, drinking, refusing to rest like Chopper strongly suggested him to. It was nothing unusual and that was the problem.

Although Sanji knew the story about what really happened when he lost consciousness, he didn’t feel at ease since he didn’t see it himself. He could only imagine the pain—if he dared to. He couldn’t even talk about this to anyone either, even to Brook, who also witnessed that incident. It was not something he wanted to talk about to begin with. So Sanji could only wait, and hope, until the time that dumbass would somehow scream and shout in pain, or at least let his guard down for a millisecond, just so he could prove him right. But he should’ve known better, the man was too stubborn to even shiver unconsciously during his sleep.

Sanji sighed at his own frustration, as he lay back to his mattress.

This could take forever.

The thing was, Zoro did let his guard down once, but Sanji turned powerless against that mosshead’s stubbornness.

Two nights ago, they were on night watch duty together when the swordsman suddenly pinned him down, out in the open lawn deck.

“What the hell, you bastard!” He resisted but that idiot smacked his lips against his own while his hands fumblingly started unbuttoning the cook’s shirt, almost ripping it apart. Sanji grunted, pushing the man away from his face. “No, idiot, we can’t! You will bleed again!”

Of course this mosshead wouldn’t listen and kept forcing himself forward but was halted by the blond’s hands.

“I said no!” Sanji glared at the man’s frowned face.

Then the struggle began, almost looking like their regular fights in the day. Zoro kept pushing forward and Sanji kept pushing him away. Zoro’s body was indeed much bigger so it put the slender cook in disadvantage, as the latter man found it hard to shove him away.

Don’t make me do it. Don’t make me do it. Sanji kept repeating it in his head like a mantra, to keep himself from using brute force. And yet, he was on the edge so he had no choice but to kick the man’s rib with his knee. The muscular man almost tumbled, but managed to balance himself and locked the cook’s hands with his, leaving not much space between their faces.

At this point, Sanji thought, Zoro might be really pissed and would pick a fight with him, and that was when he could free himself. But it never happened. Instead, the green-haired man leaned in, resting his forehead against the blond’s.

“Please,” he husked, “it’s been a while.”

Right. The last time they had sex was on their old ship at Water Seven, when Sanji almost lost his sanity to wish for some impossibilities and gave them up afterwards. But it was all before Thriller Bark, before he knew how it felt when the man he cared for almost lost his life, because of none other than the cook himself. With that incident, Sanji should’ve known better that if he gave in, he would never be able to beat his own weakness. It would be the same as swallowing the defeat all over again. Then all of Sanji’s struggle not to get on his way would be in vain.

The blond man heaved. “Zoro—”

“Sanji.”

The cook lost his breath, forgetting whatever he wanted to say, as the swordsman abruptly cut in. Roronoa Zoro never called his name ever since they met, not even in any dire situation. So Sanji never knew how it felt when he really did. He never knew he would ever be this flabbergasted over a mere word—his own name on top of that. And this damn mosshead didn’t give any chance for him to process it longer, as the man pressed his lips against the dazed pirate once again, much gentler this time, but more demanding. Then he brushed them all the way to the cook’s cheek, then nipped his ear, then he breathed out the name again.

“Sanji.”

The said name shuddered. As if his own name was a cheat code to open a big dam, his blood started boiling, rushing down to his south. Shit shit shit. Sanji pursed his lips. It would have been so much easier if Zoro picked a fight with him so he could fight back, or flee.

Why does it have to be now? Sanji hissed. He couldn’t hold his heavy breaths anymore, and his hands were weakening. The man on top seemed to notice it so he proceeded further, leaving traces to the blond’s neck, trailing down to his open chest, while still calling out the sacred name in between the hot, steamy breaths.

This was so unfair, Sanji began to think, how this moron could do anything he wanted easily. He could feel his fingers tingling, grasping the grass around him, trying hard not to grasp the green moss hair that had arrived on his navel. How Sanji couldn’t really refuse, as his body recognized the touch and reacted immediately like a muscle memory. So unfair how he actually missed all of this when he knew he shouldn’t. He was supposed to be mad at this moron for fuck sake, for leaving him behind that time, deeming him unworthy. But look at Sanji now, he didn’t stop the bastard from unzipping his pants, from pressing his wet, flat tongue against his tip.

“Fine,” he finally said, as he caught Zoro’s face abruptly. “Just let me know if you’re hurt.”

The swordsman threw a smirk, nonchalantly replied, “That’s my line.”

Although moans slipped through Sanji’s gritted teeth, his eyes squinted at the man whose fingers started twisting inside him. He could feel Zoro was trembling when he should be the only one to be. Sanji knew this was not out to thrill or excitement. This was what the cook feared: Zoro hadn't fully recovered and probably it was the reason why he didn’t fight back earlier. This moron also knew it but he would never say anything. Even if Sanji asked, the only answer he would get most likely would be “nothing”, just like that day. Just like in those nightmares. Acting like nothing happened.

It hurt so much, as Zoro made his entrance inside him. It hurt so much from the bottom to his chest, that Sanji started panting heavily, digging his nails on Zoro’s back. Not from the penetration nor the friction, but a whole other thing. It hurt so much to know this green-haired man kissing him was bearing so much pain, and yet all he shared with him was pleasure and tenderness. And this dumbass kept pushing through, even though his body was shaking much more than before.

Did he really expect Sanji to just get along with it, when the man beneath him could see some blood staining his palms? Did he really want Sanji to pretend everything was alright when it clearly wasn’t?

“What’s wrong?” Yet, it was Zoro who asked first, but the trembling stopped, obviously forced—since his body got stiffened all of the sudden.

Everything is wrong, dummy. Yet, Sanji couldn’t bring himself to say it and came up with something else. “How about you lie down and let me do it? As a compensation for kicking you earlier.”

This way at least could let the swordsman relax for a bit, that was if he agreed. The cook knew this shitty mosshead was not the type to be passive and let the partner do all the work. So he was surprised when the muscle head carefully switched position, letting the slim man sit on the top of him. That just confirmed all of the suspicions, that Zoro might be already exhausted and too tired to keep going, but still too stubborn to stop.

Though Sanji managed to lessen the worst outcome, he still couldn’t beat Zoro’s excruciating strong-will. Even when the man was in a vulnerable state and let himself quiver for a while.

Sanji never got another chance to see that slight vulnerability again. He really decided to hold back and Zoro didn’t seem to have a problem—to his surprise. Perhaps the wound was really awful, or even gotten worse after he kicked him that night. The skin might look normal but Sanji could never know how it felt under.

Probably this train of thought was what made the nightmares would never leave him, hence the drowsy face every morning. That dumbass, however, didn’t seem to be in agony like him.

This was indeed so unfair.

After having the same nightmare, Sanji couldn’t sleep and stayed awake with eyes closed until a bit earlier than the time he was supposed to wake up. That mosshead had already left a while ago, probably sneaking for some booze. With all the nag prepared in mind, Sanji went to the kitchen but found no one in there. All the liquors were still in place, as the cook checked, so that moss-haired thief hadn’t come to steal some, which was unusual.

Then the only place left was Zoro’s favorite place: the crow’s nest. That work out freak. Sanji decided to take a bottle of saké and made some sandwiches, putting them into a basket. Then he left the kitchen, heading up to the high rounded place.

Hearing some groaning voice from above, as he was climbing the ladder, Sanji became more convinced that the swordsman was doing some kind of training. However, the closer he got, the weirder the voice in his ears. It didn’t sound like someone doing some weight exercise, it was more like someone holding pain. Sanji flicked at that realization. He fastened up until he topped the ladder, only to find the man in question was asleep, sitting up on the bench with arms crossed behind his head.

A glower coloured Sanji’s face. As expected, with the voice that vanished instantly right before the cook reached the top, this moron didn’t want anyone to hear it. Meaning, he moved here on purpose. Meaning, he really was in pain. Meaning, he was awake until a moment ago. Meaning, he. Fucking. Faked. This.

The cook exhaled a sigh, biting his cigarette, approaching the sleeping swordsman.

“Oi, shitty mosshead,” he nudged the swordsman’s boots with the tip of his shoe. “Didn’t Chopper tell you not to do any training for a while?”

Zoro didn’t budge, still solemnly breathing in and out like this was just another vacation day, as Sanji expected.

“Oi oi oi,” the nudges came harder, more like banging his shoe against the shin above the boots. “Blue sea to the plant kingdom!”

Not getting any response, the blond man put the basket down—certainly didn’t want to waste food on this moron’s face no matter how much he wanted to throw it. Then he took a deep breath, lifting his one leg, readying himself.

“Don’t ignore me, you dimwitted mosshead!”

Sanji hurled a kick straight to the broad chest, followed by a grasp around the cook’s ankle almost instantly.

“It hurts, you bastard! What the hell are you doing?!”

The swordsman finally barked, almost standing up if not for holding the long black leg on his chest, literally, making the blond man grin in satisfaction.

“Oh? I thought your sense of pain had dulled, Swordsman-kun.”

Then Sanji’s face softened, as he leaned closer without removing his leg, so he could see the annoyed dumbass clearly, almost pecking the man’s nose with his.

“Better, right? Saying it out loud.”

Zoro didn’t say a word, only a snort was heard. He didn't even resist when the cook pulled his leg back and sat next to him, arms crossed. Then silence spread just like that, accompanying the sound of waves hitting the hull and the creaks of the rigging, while these two were drowning in their own thoughts.

The shitty mosshead probably was still irritated by the cook’s words—and kick—meanwhile Sanji was trying to find the right words since this was the first time they were alone after their night watch duty.

It took a whole minute before Sanji finally leaned, resting his head against the brawny shoulder, blowing out a smoke. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that? You’re never honest with your feelings and just keep everything to yourself.”

A grim image slipped on his mind, as he gazed straight ahead. It was none other than a landscape of some ruins of what used to be a huge hideous castle, scattering on the ground. Among the rubbles, his crewmates were lying down, rather unconscious with tremors. All except one man, who shouted to the enormous being, sounding stupidly bold for someone hopeless: Take my life instead. The image faded as Sanji blinked, taking him back to the empty bench across, but the shock still lingered. He tightened the grips on his arms.

“How could you easily throw your life away back then? What were you thinking?”

Sanji suddenly asked, without expecting the answer he wanted to hear, though he was prepared to stand up right away and leave the room if this moron said the same usual thing. But Zoro looked rather calm, not surprised at the question nor became defensive, as the blond could feel the man turn his body a little to shelter him better—and Sanji hated the fact that he didn’t mind it at all. He snuggled his head closer, letting his crewmate lay his cheek on the disheveled blond hair.

“You’re one to talk,” Zoro replied. “Didn’t you do the same?”

The cook winced in dismay. “That’s because I—” don’t want to lose you, “...hate your guts.”

The swordsman paused a breath, Sanji could feel it but was not sure why he did it.

“Heh. You’re more childish than I thought.”

In the end, what came out from this moron was some usual mockery though this time, the blond man didn’t bother to react. Maybe a part of him agreed. Maybe he really was being childish. After all, he jumped in without thinking much about what would happen afterwards. He only thought he would die and that was all. Yes, he would lose everything, but Zoro would live and the Straw Hats would still be able to chase their dreams. Even though he was not sure if he would do the same if the one who stood there was someone else other than Zoro, not sure if the swordsman thought the same, at the very least, he knew what kind of resolve he had.

“Listen,” Sanji murmured, “I know you care for Luffy, we all do, but what you did was unbelievably stupid.”

The swordsman flippantly replied, “Jealous?”

“Like hell,” the cook growled, as he could imagine the smug face that idiot made. “I’ll kick your ass.”

Zoro laughed. Sanji couldn’t remember the last time that dumbass laughed that big, so he decided to let him have it, for the time being.

“Not sure why you brought this up, twirly, but it already happened,” the man added in a flat tone, as his laugh subsided. “We survived and that’s enough.”

Sanji sighed a smoke, as if he had expected that kind of answer. “Yeah right. Doesn’t matter anyway. You will still act reckless and put your life on the line alone for our captain. And that’s why I’m here.”

A little shrug was felt behind the cook’s head. “To stop me?”

The blond huffed. “To look after you, idiot, and save your ass.”

Then there was a pause again, longer this time, before the swordsman responded, “That’s unnecessary. I don’t need that.”

Something snapped in the cook’s brain. He pulled his head, glaring straight to the pirate hunter. “I’m fucking worried about you, moron! Can’t you tell?!” He then stood up, without giving the other pirate a chance to speak. “Can’t believe I’m wasting my time over some brainless plant! It’s much better to pamper the ladies than to dwell on you!”

Sanji wanted to say more but he thought it would only cost him another headache for the rest of the day, so he just waved his hand dismissively.

“Whatever. Never mind what I said. I’m gon—wha—?!”

Just when the cook was about to turn his feet, his hand was suddenly yanked, until he almost dropped onto the swordsman, cigarette flown away. The next thing he realized, the muscular hands were already wrapping his waist and Zoro was breathing on his chest.

“I’m sorry,” the man’s voice muffled as he buried his face deeper, “thank you.”

The blond man blinked, processing what just happened as his hands were still in the air. To Sanji, this one was unexpected, especially coming from a stone-headed man like Zoro.

He let out a sigh after a while. All of his tensed muscles loosened up as he slipped his fingers through the short green hair. “What's with the sudden change of attitude, hm? Does it still hurt? Did I kick you too hard?” This time Sanji asked sincerely without any sting in it.

Zoro shook his head on the cook’s chest, still enfolding the slim waist like he wouldn't let go anytime soon.

Sanji chuckled. “Yeah, I’m sorry too.” He knew this idiot lied and still needlessly tried to act tough, exactly the opposite with the cook who felt soft (or let himself to be), as he caressed the spiky hair of the swordsman's. “You’re not the only stubborn idiot here, got that? So as long as you don’t stop from being one, I won’t stop too.” The tone was tender but there was a weight in it, Sanji made sure of it, and Zoro seemed to get the message, since the clasp on the slim waist got tighter.

As the blond man lowered his head a little, nuzzling against the green hair that he mocked everyday while smelling the scent of the swordsman, Sanji felt relieved, because he could feel the man was soothingly warm under his touch, breathing within his arms. The only thing that could negate his nightmare and fear: Zoro was alive.

“I’m so glad you survived. I thought I’d lost you,” the cook murmured in relief.

As Zoro tilted his head back, connecting his lips with the cook’s, Sanji swore that he would never let this warmth slip away from his grasp again. That he would become stronger.

Even if he had to challenge fate.

“Alright, enough. I need to go now.”

Sanji pulled his head back, after they had been kissing for quite some time. But he couldn’t stand up straight as the muscular hands were still holding him.

“Where are you going?” Zoro grumbled. “Where’s the compensation for kicking me earlier?”

“Now now, you shameless pervert,” the cook untangled the hands circling his waist. “First of all, though I feel bad, you do deserve that kick. Second, I gotta prepare breakfast. I heard we’re really close to the Red Line. We never know what kinda trouble will happen, but we know Luffy, so we need all the energy.”

The blond man would’ve left the room if he didn’t see Zoro’s pouty mouth, or the way the swordsman reluctantly let go of his waist, leaving another whirlpool down his stomach. At that moment, as he looked at the brown eyes darting to his soul, silently begging, Sanji began to think again, to revive that his impossible hope that got buried some time ago. He shouldn’t do this, he knew, yet he didn’t move his feet. He couldn’t.

As anxiety started crawling up to his throat, he took out another cigarette from his pocket and ignited it between his lips. Some words already escaped before he could stop them. “How about we rent a hotel room on the very next island? Wherever it is. I’ll try to talk to Nami-san.”

The cook suddenly felt the urge to pull his words back when he saw Zoro raising his brows high without any words for quite a long time. His breaths through the tobacco quickened immediately, as he realized that this might sound ridiculous, might sound one-sidedly planned, almost felt like he was just trying to shove his own agenda in whatever they had. No. He decided that he really must pull them back. But he missed the chance as the other pirate already talked.

“Fine. Let’s do that. We’ve never done it properly, after all,” Zoro said, without showing any hesitation. “Might as well let everyone know about us.”

“Huh?”

Sanji blurted reflexively, almost absentmindedly, because as dawn finally broke the dark sky behind the swordsman, he thought he saw it; a glimmer of long lost hope. And it got brighter as the man continued.

“What? You think I’m just playing around with you?” the green-haired man leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Why do you think I knocked you out back then?”

Because I’m weak. “Because you’re amazingly stupid?” It was supposed to be a joke, an insult, or whatever that was supposed to entertain Sanji himself and irritate the other crewmate. Except he didn’t laugh, as he said it without thinking, because now that the hope got bigger, his head was getting dizzy, and he barely put his attention to the swordsman.

“What?! Geez.” Zoro rubbed his hair messily, seemingly thinking about something before sighing that sounded more like giving up. “Alright, cook. I’m just gonna say this once. So you better listen carefully.”

The swordsman put a serious look on his face, just like when he was in the middle of battle sans the hostility. Sanji could feel his heart beating crazily. He was not sure if it was okay to get excited over this, if he would get what he always wanted, and mostly, if this would be a good idea, to make himself hope. Again. But he nodded anyway.

Folding his arms on his chest, Zoro took a second to breathe, then he began. “You know I swore not to lose anymore before I surpassed Hawkeye, right? That day in Thriller Bark, I didn’t plan to lose either, that’s why I dared the shichibukai. I had everything under my control, but then you appeared.” The man rubbed his green hair once again, with a troubled look this time. “I’ll admit, I didn’t expect that. I thought I was alone so I panicked, then that happened. Sorry.”

For a stoic and tough man, Zoro sounded genuine, almost too soft and pure that could become the shitcook’s insult later. But of course, Sanji’s focus weighed more on something else; anything other than what could boost his selfish want. Because this time he also thought: that can’t be it.

“You’re saying I was just a distraction for you so that you had to get rid of me?”

The swordsman stood at this, making the cook step back. “What—? I’m saying… I miscalculated, idiot. I—”

“I get it. I’m getting in your way.” What did I expect? “You don’t have to rub it on me.” The blond man made it sound firmer than he intended to, that he wished he put some doubt in it.

Because of that, the dream that just started to resurface now turned dimmer. Sanji turned away to approach the metal ladder. He needed to leave. 

“I’m sorry,” he added, ”forget my invitation. You can focus on becoming the best swordsman in the world.”

He was about to bend down to the ladder but his movement was halted again, this time by the quick response from behind.

“Do you really think becoming the best is my only goal?”

Half turning around, Sanji shrugged. “Is it not? Isn’t it the purpose of all your borderline training?”

“Yes,” Zoro didn’t deny, obviously, “but I have another thing I want and that involves you.”

The blond man winced in a perplexed look. “What does your goal have anything to do with me?”

The swordsman scoffed, mumbling something like “fuck” before he looked at the blond. “Because it would be meaningless if I become the best without you being there.”

Sanji completely froze in his place. Zoro was always a straightforward person in the crew, speaking whatever was on his mind but only if necessary, and only if it’s not related to himself—since this mosshead never spoke his feelings clearly. While the others would misinterpret his words, Sanji was the one who somehow could decipher and understand his means. However, this time the cook suddenly lost his confidence in it. He couldn’t find the right meaning that fit that idiot’s sentence that did not fit with his own wish.

So he could only ask, almost carefully, almost whispering more to himself, “...Why?”

“Tch.” The green-haired man rolled his eyes before roaring, “Because you’re important to me, dumbass! Why else?!”

In usual cases, Zoro would have jumped and attacked, starting another stupid fight with one of his swords, but somehow he had more control of his hands which kept on being crossed on his chest. Except his fingers kept digging his skin deeper.

On the other side, Sanji was gawking in disbelief, as he could see it again; the reverie. This time it looked so much brighter, so much clearer, so much closer and it felt so real in his sight. He didn’t notice how long it took all of his attention, until the man across let out another grunt.

“Still don’t get it, shitcook? Are you that dumb?” Zoro sounded really pissed, brows furrowed deeper.

Taking a few seconds to collect himself, as Sanji suddenly needed to hold onto something to get a grip—and chose the telescope since it was the nearest, he took a deep, deep breath.

“So you knocked me out because…?”

“I didn’t want to take the risk of—” the swordsman paused as if considering how to word it, before he continued with an almost inaudible voice, “...losing you.”

Even so, with nothing but the man’s voice in his focus, Sanji could still hear it crystal clear. “Did you mean it? You’re not joking?”

“Do I look like I’m fucking joking?”

“But why didn’t you tell me before? Why we never talked about this?”

“Because I don’t think it’s the time… yet.” Zoro turned calmer, as his shoulders loosened up, but still had the grave look. “But I’m serious about us, cook. Only I intend to talk about this later, after I reach my dream, and you with yours, and of course after our idiot captain becomes the pirate king.” He paused, suddenly hesitating. “Can you wait until then?”

Sanji was quiet, slowly releasing his breath that he’d been holding, together with his hand on the telescope. Then he nodded, letting out a word almost unheard by himself. “Okay.” He fixed his feet before saying the same word again, without trying to be louder but still sounded firmer. “Okay.”

However, it was clear enough for the swordsman to unfold his arms, and lifted a hand, motioning. “Come here.”

Sanji didn’t move at first. He took the time to take in everything, because he was finally convinced that what he saw was not just a fantasy. The image of them being together in the future, still holding hands and all, he could see it clearly, as he took a small step forward before taking another. This time he could feel it; it was within his reach, as he stretched his hands to catch Zoro’s face. The skin under his palms, the warmth, the stern look that slowly turned soft. Sanji realized he had memorized all the details since long ago, and now he knew he would still see them everyday for a really long time.

Then, as the cook touched the thin lips with his thumb, before with his own lips, he felt that this time he didn’t have to worry about anything else. After Zoro became the best swordsman, after he found the All Blue, and with a particular addition of Luffy being the pirate king, Sanji would be able to spend the rest of his life with Zoro. This would be the best plan, he thought. He planted his chin on the swordsman’s shoulder, after kissing it briefly, eyes closed.

“Don’t forget to ask Nami,” Zoro muttered, making the blond man chuckle and hum in agreement.

They stayed standing, hugging each other for a long moment until the peak of the sun was seen surfacing in the sea. Breakfast time was getting nearer so the ship’s chef really had to go to the kitchen and prepare everything before the ladies and the rascals woke up, especially the rubber one.

It took another kiss on the lips to make the green-haired man finally let the blond go and start climbing down the ladder. After a few steps, Sanji stopped and poked his head a little, looking at the musclehead who was chewing the first bite of the sandwich.

“Hey, Mosshead.” Zoro’s jaw stopped moving when he heard Sanji’s voice. “Don’t you dare to die before you fulfil your dream.”

The pirate hunter paused for a bit before swallowing big and throwing his typical cocky smirk.

“Heh. As if.”

The cook smiled and continued his way down. It felt so long since Sanji felt relieved and content without any worries. Today’s breakfast was the elephant fish they just caught yesterday. The cook was in the mood to make various cuisines, especially at the fact that they were nearing the Red Line. Because that would mean that they were near half way of traveling the world, half way of reaching all of their dreams. As for Sanji, half way of living a new life, with Zoro all the more.

It never crossed his mind, however, that things would go down so fast afterwards, even though anyone would’ve guessed since they were Straw Hats pirates. Sanji never thought that he would regret not taking the chance to give the compensation Zoro asked before.

By the time he realized it, they were already on another verge of death.

—

Within days, Sanji found himself running away together with all the Straw Hats crew in Sabaody. As the result of pissing off—and literally face punching—a tenryuubito, they were granted another battle with marines, and this time facing off an admiral as a bonus. But worst was the comeback of the very same giant shichibukai they met at Thriller Bark.

The cook’s eyes quickly shifted to the green-haired man who was stunned in a distinct way compared with the others. As expected, after exchanging blows a few times, even with the entire crew alongside, Zoro was already worn out. Stealing a glance at the downed swordsman, Sanji could immediately grasp that the man was clearly not healed yet, not to mention the shock he probably bore from seeing the enormous pirate again. 

Sanji was still thinking of a way to beat the shichibukai when that stubborn bastard asked him to send the giant to his way, more like exclaiming that the swordsman would give an additional fatal blow before their captain finished the shichibukai off. Sanji didn’t like the idea but did it anyway, and they all did successfully, though barely, beat the monster.

However, that was just a very brief calm before the storm. Too brief to catch their breaths and comprehend what was going on, that when another enemy jumped from the above, they almost had no energy to stand up right away—especially that mosshead who was still sitting on debris. In seconds, still in the middle of confusion, the newly appeared and suspectedly modified Kuma started shooting some beams towards the Straw Hats. Sanji hardly dodged and arrived beside the now standing swordsman.

“If we fight again, someone’s going to get seriously hurt,” Zoro said in a grave tone, yet his hands were still clenching the sword hilts, as if ready to charge.

Sanji knew the swordsman didn’t talk about himself yet he couldn’t help but worry about the careless man next to him. Shaking his head, he got a grip and stayed focused, preparing himself quietly. If anything happened to this mosshead, he would leap in no matter what. Though he knew full well this particular crewmate would nag over this, he didn’t care. That would be another thing to think about later and the cook was ready for the consequences.

Thankfully, before that happened, Luffy decided for all of them to run away instead and split up into three groups, with him, Sanji, and Zoro going into different groups. The blond man glanced once again, making sure his rival was really okay, then started to go with the plan along with the others: to meet again in three days at Sunny.

Deep down, Sanji thought it would be too good to be true, if they could run away successfully, as the bridge suddenly blasted, with the terrifying Kuma emerging from the smoke. Too good to be true if Luffy could overpower and beat the broadaxe wielder, as the rubber man got thrown away, destroying the rubbles around. Too good to be true if Zoro could use his stubborn determination to keep going, to defy any logic and impossibilities like he always did, as another explosion came right on the swordsman, together with the appearance of an admiral. And at that moment, Sanji wished he could somehow jump in to kick that light jerk, not just screaming his lungs out from the other side.

“No!” Oh God. “He’s already at his limit!!” He could really die this time.

Too good to be true that the blond man almost lost it, when the old man Rayleigh abruptly interrupted, countering the admiral’s attack, saving the green-haired man who was still lying motionless on the ground.

We were saved.

He would have said it out loud in relief if not for the gigantic devil user who shifted his target from his group to the pirate hunter worth one hundred and twenty million berries. Without any further thinking, Sanji turned on his heels, changing his direction to the other side, to Zoro.

Seeing Brook’s attempt to stop the shichibukai failed, Sanji’s leg was already flying to Kuma’s back, hitting the hard-steeled giant to the ground. Alas, he too, was at his limit and fell, rolling to the ground. And in the next second, he felt hot and burning all over his body, as the giant bastard blasted a shock wave towards him.

Not giving a chance for Sanji to rest, that ruthless monster already shooted another beam, this time concentrated on the cook’s chest. It escalated so fast that Sanji only felt something sharp and scorching, piercing through his chest, then his dear turquoise shirt turned damp in red. That was when he suddenly wondered if all of this ordeal would bear fruit as sweet as the pain and struggle they all had, as his face brutally met the grass underneath. Wondered how long they had to endure all of this shit, as he could hear all the fuss about another Kuma appearing out of nowhere. Wondered if he should have kept his face down instead of trying to peek, as something horrible happened in front of his eyes the moment that pawed hand was swung down.

And with the very last bit of consciousness, Sanji fucking saw it, his dream dissolving, fading away like it never existed, just like how Zoro vanished into thin air without any trace in a blink of eyes.

The slender body began to tremble, much more severe than when the hole was made on his chest. He couldn’t remember what he said or what he saw later on, he couldn’t care less anyway. His thoughts were all jumbled, he didn’t know which he should think first. Only the captain’s voice could really knock his senses: to get away from that chaotic place. But the cook still couldn’t move from the shock as well as the excruciating pain on his chest, and that cost another crewmate to disappear right before anyone’s eyes, as the tall skeleton tried to defend both him and Usopp who was trying to help him stand.

Damn it all, Sanji thought, he couldn’t even get up on his own, so how was he supposed to escape? Everyone was panicking and he was no different. He just lost two of his comrades, and Zoro was one of them, and that was more than enough to put him in the most unstable mental state he had ever experienced. Yet, he couldn’t do anything about it. He could only pull his hair and get frustrated over his uselessness, as if he already became the deadweight, and being one was the least he ever wanted.

In a breath, the blond man clenched his teeth and got on his feet, somehow, alarming the long-nosed crewmate to go. If he couldn’t run, Sanji now thought, then he could at least stay to hold this tremendous being from catching the rest of the crewmates. He bluntly ignored Luffy’s warning for him to run away. Like hell he would run away, not like he could either. He used his remaining strength to throw a flying kick but the giant deflected it easily while Sanji got tossed away to the ruins around. 

He hadn’t collected himself to get up yet he already heard Usopp shouting desperately for help, as now the shichibukai aimed for the longnose. And before Sanji could say anything, the sharpshooter had disappeared as well. Rage kept bursting on his chest. The cook suddenly had the power to run towards the giant pirate.

Then all of sudden, time slowed down in Sanji’s eyes, as he weighed on one foot in preparation to throw another flying kick. For a split second, a voice filled his mind: because it will be meaningless if I become the best without you being there. Sanji now realized it applied to himself too.

What would finding the All Blue mean if Zoro was not there with him?

So when the pawed hand was swinging in his direction, the blond man didn’t even try to dodge. He let himself sucked into the void.

—

Sanji never hated himself for being so weak, not until Thriller Bark, and then Sabaody, and now… He didn’t even know where he was now. When he opened his eyes, all he saw was the blue sky, and he felt so light as if floating in the air, lying on his back. Maybe he, too, was finally meeting his own death, into the nothingness. This was what he deserved after all; for failing to protect his comrades, and mostly for failing to save the man he held very dear.

The breeze stroked him gently but he felt rather numb. Except his chest that was throbbing so hard, so scorching along with the burnt smell that still lingered from both his skin and suit. So he didn’t realize his eyes were turning red and his cheeks were getting wet when he recalled the moment he lost Zoro from his sight.

That mosshead was always a lost child wherever they disembarked but it never became an issue for Sanji since he knew he would see him hours later. Yet, this time he was not sure if he could have the same faith. He had no fucking idea where that man was sent to, or even if he was still alive. The nightmare that had been keeping him up all night had turned into reality. Zoro was really gone.

After getting through all colors in the skies, red and blue, dark and bright, for the time he didn’t get to think of, Sanji finally plummeted to some kind of island with pink tones all over the place. It looked too sweet and too adorable and too pretty for a man like him, that anyone would say this island was more suitable for ladies, and that his instinct would blindly search for them against all the odds.

Yet, with all this pinkish atmosphere, his mind still turned gray as he stayed on his back. Yet, with all the flowers bloomed around him, his heart still withered as he looked up further at the sky. Did it matter if this was heaven when hell was all he felt? Sanji now pondered if this was really hell.

But what was hell actually? For Sanji, hell could be anything. From the time he was stranded, starving, or even from his cruel childhood. But this time he thought it could be translated into something else. Maybe hell was when he felt his body was crushed, that he couldn’t move, that he needed to make some effort just for breathing. Maybe hell was when he couldn’t do anything and let that monster snatch his comrades, take Zoro away from him. Or maybe it was when that stupid swordsman made an impromptu confession, reviving the long term plan that the cook had given up.

Perhaps hell was when Sanji realized that he had much deeper feelings towards the green-haired man, much bigger, and maybe way too much that it hurt. That he was willing to do anything for him.

But maybe the most torturing hell was when he had no chance of seeing Zoro again.

There are things meant to happen.

Sanji learned to cook, became a chef, then joined Straw Hats, regaining his long gone desire to find the All Blue, those were meant to happen. 

Even if those are painful.

He fell in love—with someone none other than his annoying crewmate. Painful because he fell too deep that it felt bottomless. Painful because he later found out the feelings were mutual. Painful because he lost it too fast. Painful because it lingered to last.

But what’s for?

…

Who knows?

Sanji didn’t know. He probably would never get the answer.

But one thing for sure, if he could go back to the time when they first met, when the offer of joining Straw Hats was still open to be rejected, when he had the option to stay at Baratie and continue his life there, he would still have taken the same step.

Even if he ended up in an endless loop of meeting and parting with the swordsman, he would still do it anyway.

Because maybe not all things needed reasons.

Maybe it just happened.