Sanji smiled to himself satisfactorily as he stirred his bubbling pot. They had been together for years (and wasn't that strange a strange feeling to not be with the other cooks on Baratie bantering and kicking like he had before this voyage) and he had not once gotten sick. Hypothermia, yes. Passing out from blood-loss, many times. Beaten down to within an inch of his life, way too often to count.
But catching a cold or something similar? Never.
He ladled out the contents of his pots into multiple bowls (and a gigantic one in particular took the majority), balanced them onto his arms, and went to visit his comrades on the deck.
"ACHOO!" A head on a stretched-out neck flew far over the ocean only to snap back like rubber band to where it was anatomically supposed to be. Poor Luffy, the boy always got sick the worst, and his Gum-Gum powers weren't helping with him shooting off in random directions.
Sanji lowered the bowls in front of each of his crew-members before sitting down with his own between Nami and Zoro. "Eat up." The blond ordered. "This should get you back to normal in no time."
"I don't know why you're eating it too," Nami commented with a fevered blush to her cheeks as she picked up the spoon and attempted to ladle up some of the noodles, "you never get sick." Nami, for some reason, acted like she had finished of a tavern's supply of beer whenever she became ill. Zoro nodded silently at his other side after slurping at the bowl's edge.
"That's because I made a promise." Sanji retorted, gesturing towards the girl with his spoon. "To Chef Zeff, right before we took on those Arlong Pirates." He added when he saw looks of confusion.
The blond looked down at the reflection in his chicken noodle soup with a fond smile, it was a recipe Zeff had taught him after he finally mastered using a knife.
"It's a promise I intend to keep."