Almost immediately after their first adventure in the New World Sanji had dragged Zoro to a strange shop where his hair was plucked, arm scrapped, and blood taken.
He had figured out they were in a Vivre card shop pretty quickly.
Sanji was having the same uncomfortable procedures done so he didn't complain about the hassle.
He didn't make fun of Sanji for wanting to be able to find him or keep an eye on him, because frankly that was exactly what he wanted to do. Something he imagined all people wanted when they were…whatever the hell they were. Nakama plus some.
When all was said and done Sanji handed the woman behind the counter an obscene amount of money that would have made Namis head explode. Well above vivre card going price, and enough that Zoro knew that the cooks savings all the way back from when he was slinging food at the Baratie had just been blown in exchange for a tiny bag.
Sanji was smiling though as he pulled out the two small jars from the plastic and tissue paper. He opened one and smelled it before handing it to Zoro.
"As I thought, I can't smell mine."
Zoro took a minute to see what he was holding. A small jar candle steadily glowing dispite there being a lid on the jar. The wax was swirls of blue and gold and reminded him a little of sunrise on the ocean. He pulled off the lid curiously.
First thing he noticed was the fire didn't seem to be producing enough heat to be actual fire. Holding his hand above the flame didn't burn him but reminded him of the heat of Sanjis lower back and skin as they had laid in bed together that morning.
Next was the smell was…Sanji. Ocean and cigarettes and his prissy shampoo and the barbeque he had made everyone for lunch and the tantalizing skin and light sweat beneath it all. Overall it was the sweet spice of cook and he could feel the passion coming off the flame. He inhaled deeply and looked over to the blond doing the same to the other jar.
The wax in that jar was a fresh green with sharp stripes of silver, it reminded him of a fresh meadow holding its strong color on an overcast and cool day before a storm.
"What do I smell like cook?"
Sanji inhaled again.
"Fresh air, steel, sweat, earth, and determination." He answered back with a grin.
Vivre candles.
"How do they work?" Zoro asked as he closed the candle lid and put an arm around the real thing.
"Open the jar and the flame points in the persons direction…and the color and quality of the fire will tell about the persons life force."
Zoro nodded his thanks and put his Sanji candle in his pocket.
The candles came in handy quite a few times over the next year or so as Zoro would become lost and have to follow the flame back…or the time Sanji had been captured too easily by that busty bounty hunter and they initially had no clue to his location.
Sanji for his part had used it to find which bars in port Zoro was drinking in and to stare at the smoldering flicks of barely there flame slowly become stronger while Chopper operated on Zoro after a particularly gruesome battle.
Then they had found a tiny island on the edge of All Blue that needed help. With Mihawk still ahead…they parted with the knowledge that it should be temporary.
The candles became suddenly so much more valuable. Zoro slept with the candle open and next to him now on a bedside table. He could smell Sanji fresh from the shower and the hint of toothpaste as the man got ready for bed. The flame was steady and pointing back the way they had come. Some times as Nami and Usopp discussed plans for what they would do for lunch he would open the candle and smell Sanji cooking something…today smelled like glazed ham and the undernotes smelled like he was putting together an apple pie as well.
Zoro was anxious the week the flame of Sanjis candle turned green and weakly flickered at half mast and smelling like old bed linen and medicine. Some kind of serious illness he gathered. He sighed in relief as the flame returned normal.
One time before bed the candle smelled like sweat, sex, and the combination of smells that Sanji had described his Zoro candle to smell like. Sanji was jerking off to his smell and thinking about him. Zoro smiled as he wondered why he hadn't thought of that and pushed his boxers down to join in.
It began to dawn on both of them that the candles were almost crude communication. The jerk off sessions were more frequent now and almost on an agreed time.
On Zoros birthday Sanji smelled like all of Zoros favorite foods.
Soon after there was some action on that little island Sanji was on because for a month straight, the candle smelled of gunpowder, filth, sweat, and blood. The flame would go half mast suddenly and then slowly grow and burn brighter again as he imagined the cook healing from injuries, only to fall lower again. Then one day the flame danced happily and smelled of roasting sea king and celebratory booze and fresh bandages and cigarettes.
Almost like Sanji had gone out of his way to say that it was over and not to worry.
He became aware of the messages he was leaving for Sanji…making sure each bloody battle was followed by lots of antiseptic and sake.
When it came time to fight Mihawk, Zoro knew he must win. Not only to claim his dream and title for Kuina and himself…but to make sure somewhere across the ocean a blond would not look at his candle to find it snuffed and smelling of death.
Sanji looked up from the stew he was stirring at the flick of movement. Zoros' candle was radiating a bright white-hot flame and three times the size as it normally was.
"You better win asshole…I'm waiting."