Green, green, green. No matter where he looks, Sanji is surrounded by this lush abundant colour and it pisses him off. They have been on this jungle island for 8 days now and today the log pose is finally set and the crew is ready to take off, if not for the fact that the stupid, shitty swordsman is nowhere to be found and the unquestionable non-honour of the task to find the bastard has fallen on none other than the chef, just his luck. How he is supposed to find this algae jerk in this thick jungle is beyond him though, no doubt Zoro blends right in with this environment. For all Sanji knows he could have run past the probably sleeping idiot already.

Mumbling curses under his breath and around the cigarette between his teeth – goddamn creepy disgusting insects, arhg! – Sanji works his way through the thicket. Maybe he should have brought his cooking knives to cut through those ever annoying lianas, the cook is quite sure he could make a variation of refreshing salads out of those but between Usopp and Chopper collecting all the fruit and berries they could find and Zoro and him rapidly decreasing the local animal population, the Strawhats have more than enough provisions stocked now. And when he finds Zoro the cook will just make him use his swords to make the way back to the ship faster and more comfortable than this stupid search task will ever be.

It is hot and humid and his clothes are sticking to his skin uncomfortably. Sanji's mood is at an ever low when his tired eyes finally spy the sleeping Marimo. There he is, all sprawled out on some mossy ground like he is part of the growth, his arms crossed behind his head, swords lying by his side, snoozing without a care in the world and not noticing that fucking huge spider crawling all over him, argh! Sanji shudders with disgust and grits his teeth, biting into the cigarette butt before spitting it out. He won't go near Zoro with that thing on him, which by the way just moved towards the swordsman's haramaki – really, Zoro, in this fucking heat? – and seems to deem it comfortable enough to settle there. The cook gapes at the spider for a couple of shocked seconds before pulling himself together again. He sighs and pulls out his pack of cigarettes; there are not many left. With swift fingers Sanji takes a smoke out of the pack, puts it loosely between his lips and lights it with his zippo. The first inhale of a new cigarette always gets sucked deep into his lungs and hardly ever fails to give him that calming, satisfied feeling. Sanji keeps a wary watch on the little monster while trying to figure out how to handle this situation. The spider doesn't move anymore, it seems to have truly settled onto that shitty haramaki and it pisses him off real good. Possessive much, that little beast! Sanji blinks in surprise, he really does not want to follow that intrusive thought. He already knows that he won't like where it'd lead him. Right, time to fucking do something besides standing around and watching Zoro sleep like a creep, although to his credit his focus so far has been on the other animal.

After a quick look-around Sanji decides on the very effective and probably also only viable strategy of using pain to get Zoro to wake up. He walks up to one of those huge trees with coconut-like fruits hanging low in their crowns. The cook plucks one out of the plentiful crop and weighs it in his hand. Nicely firm and heavy, it will make a perfect projectile. The chef normally more than frowns upon such a misuse of food but they are currently in the middle of a jungle and in nature nothing ever goes to waste. Usopp and Chopper have collected a ton of these fruits over the last couple of days in varying states of ripeness. As it seems, the yellow orbs are the unripe form of the fruit, it grows a little bigger and softer with each degree of maturity and changes colour over green to blue. Sanji has taste-tested every state so far and quickly came to the conclusion that he can use it at any stage for different kind of menus.

With a clear conscious and his mind already focussing on making up recipes, Sanji tosses the fruit up high and, with an elegant overhead kick, shoots it right towards the dumb mosshead, where it impacts heavily. Zoro's head gets knocked back by the force, though he quickly snaps back, blinks and scowls darkly at his abuser, who is standing further away than he is used to when he gets woken up like that.

"Get your shitty ass up, stupid Marimo! I've been looking for you for almost two hours. The Sunny will take off soon, why the fuck do you always have to run off to shit knows where?!" Sanji immediately yells while pointing his cigarette at Zoro accusingly before he can get as much as a groan out of his mouth. The swordsman grunts, rubs the comparatively rather small bump on his head and then makes a show of stretching extra long just to rile the cook up a bit. Sanji's eyes flicker to Zoro's very, very, VERY defined pectoral and abdominal muscles before getting back to glaring at Zoro's stupid mug. Wait, was that torso fucking glistening with a sheen of sweat or is he just going crazy now?! With another very quickly stolen glance Sanji confirms that, yes, the dumb Marimo is sparkling like a fairy under the damn sunlight that for some reason just shines through the canopy in small beams just in the right way and, yes, it's definitely driving him bonkers. Careful there, he'd better keep those thoughts in check or... he actually does not know what would happen but it could not be anything good. Sanji just huffs and puffs out a cloud of smoke before taking another deep drag into his lungs.

With a dismissive wave of his hand Zoro finally gets up, places his swords inside his red sash – the only colour accent on his overwhelmingly green outfit – and slowly walks towards the cook, shitty spider inclusive.
"STOP! G-Get rid of that THING on you first!" Sanji almost yelps and immediately jumps backwards to increase the distance again. Zoro raises a questioning eyebrow, follows Sanji's death-stare and with a quick flick of his wrist swipes off the spider to hopefully never be seen again.
The cook instantly relaxes a little, even though his mind keeps reminding him of the fact that he is practically in bug and insect heaven and will probably have to face those things again.

Luckily, Zoro does not further comment on his fear – pardon – extreme DISLIKE of bugs and just leaves it be. Granted, he is used to it by now and probably also does not get a kick out of teasing Sanji for it anymore.

Instead, Zoro keeps his eyebrow cocked up. "What the hell has you so worked up, cook?", he asks curiously. His unscarred eye unabashedly checks out the chef. Sanji just feels disgusting, he is hot and sweaty, his hair is messy, his clothes are soaked in sweat and dirt and his arms are full of scratches from all those times he got entangled in those stupid lianas, some of which actually have some really big thorns on them. All in all, he just wants to get back to the ship as soon as possible and take a nice shower to get rid of all this filth. Although Zoro's expression does not belie the fact that he seems to rather enjoy the cook's dishevelled appearance, to the latter's chagrin.

"I don't know~ maybe~ the fact that I have to waste my time playing "find the Marimo" on this shitty island!" Sanji exclaims annoyed. Shockingly he really does not have the energy and will to fight right now. But it seems Zoro is ok with that as he just shrugs and starts walking in a random direction. Sanji rolls his eyes, stomps after him and grabs him at his collar like a puppy to direct him on the right path. With a quick push towards the right direction the two of them make their way back to the ship.

Thanks to Zoro using Shusui to blaze a trail through the jungle the journey back is far more pleasant, even though the heat is still annoying. But with the swordsman in front of him chopping greens away it is really easy for Sanji to keep them on track with the added bonus of not having much else to do apart from ogling Zoro's back. The stupid Marimo is wearing his green coat which is sticking to his back with a huge wet sweat stain. Sanji doesn't mind that per se or rather he isn't one to talk seeing as he is drenched in his own sweat far more from his previous jungle excercise, he is rather more baffled how anyone could wear that coat on top of the stupid haramaki, long black pants and thick boots on a summer island when Zoro is practically running around naked on any winter island ever for fuck's sake.

"Aaah, it's so damn hot, I can't wait to get off this stupid island", Sanji says more to himself than to his companion. He tries to fan cooling air to his face with his hands but the effect is practically zero. Sanji keeps pulling on his shirt in an effort to get rid of the disgusting feeling of havin his clothes stick to him as if he just had a quick dive in the ocean but as soon as he lets go of the fabric it gets sucked right back to his skin with a gross little smacking sound. The more uncomfortable he feels the more Zoro's fashion sense annoys him.

"What are you trying to prove with wearing THAT by the way, asshole?", Sanji snaps and wildly gestures to all of Zoro's back, which evidently is completely covered by that fucking coat, even though the swordsman can't see him doing that but he probably senses the movement anyways.

Zoro stops in his track, turns back and just glares at the chef for a second. "What is your fucking problem?", he asks the cook exasperated. "That's what I'm asking you!" Sanji shoots right back.

"Why the hell do you wear that shitty coat when it's a goddamn sauna out here? You know you can just...NOT wear it, right?! Like you do every fucking time when it's freezing, remember?!"

Zoro blinks in surprise at that word-vomit and then – to Sanji's confusion – bursts into laughter.

"You want me to undress for you? Wanna get a nice view back there, huh, ero-cook?"

A mischievous grin spreads across his face and Sanji swears he can see the glint in Zoro's eye.

The thing is, ever since their reunion after 2 years of separation there has been this kind of weird...awareness, no, interest, no, attraction, maybe, between the two of them and maybe it has even already been there two years ago, whatever it is. Sanji knows that Zoro knows, and he knows that Zoro knows he knows. He is pretty sure it is some kind of mutual thing but even though they both seem to be aware of whatever it is that is between them, they normally dutyfully ignore it. And so far it works well enough, denial is such a wondrous power, unless Zoro decides to drop a shitty line like that and scrambles Sanji's brain.

"What?! No! What? Nice view, my ass! Shut up, bastard! You stink and I have to walk behind you, is all! Get your fucking ego in check!", he sputters indignantly just a beat too fast. Sanji lets out a frustrated grunt, flips Zoro off, even though that was definitely worth a kick to the face but he really doesn't want to think about the places in which his pants keep sticking to him, and keeps muttering curses under his breath.

It earns him another guffawing laugh and to his annoyance Sanji actually likes seeing Zoro amused, even though it's at his own expense. "Just stop your bitching, Princess!" The shitty Marimo flashes him another cheeky grin and Sanji instantly takes back his previous thoughts. Fucking asshole! With a kick to the ribs and an uncomfortable pull of his pant leg the chef puts Zoro back on the right track.

The way back to their ship and crew does not take as long as Sanji's little search and rescue game until finding Zoro but it still takes longer than he would prefer. Zoro keeps cutting vines and lianas and the occasional bushes like a machine. Sanji sometimes has to jump out of the way of falling fruit or even worse, bugs. The cook hates this island with all his passion but he still admires it for being such an amazing food source, you definitely don't have to worry about starving to death on this one. The native animals also don't seem to be too dangerous, all things considered this being the Grand Line after all. The most dangerous and most annoying things by far seem to be those coconut-like fruits, that keep getting pulled to earth by gravity. His head is not as hard as Zoro's thick skull so Sanji keeps side-stepping to avoid getting hit. He just avoided a ripe blue fruit that bursts open with a loud splash sound close to his legs when something else on the ground catches the cook's eye.

Sanji walks a few steps towards it, crouches down and pokes the purple fruit with curiosity.
"Huh, interesting...", he mumbles and Zoro stops in his tracks und turns around to see what he is doing. The fruit wobbles when being poked and is generally rather squishy and flabby. Images of Luffy as a rubber ball flash into his mind and Sanji can't help but grin. This is the first time that he has seen a purple version, despite having the Sunny's food storage filled with all the other colour variations, but it seems to be the same fruit nonetheless. Logically this must be the degree of maturity after the blue version, so it is probably over-ripe. Interesting. It could taste overly sweet or overly bitter or...he really needs to taste it. Sanji moves to carefully pick up the fruit. It has not burst from its fall, its squishiness seems to have absorbed the power of the impact. Zoro observes the whole thing silently. The cook is completely in his element as he studies this oddity. In his hands the fruit seems to weight next to nothing, which honestly surprises him more than expected. With a puzzled expression he looks over to Zoro who just throws back a quizzical look. Sanji is just about to put it up to his face to try and smell its sweetness level when the fruit explodes with a loud bang.

Sanji topples over backwards and for a few seconds his brain can't keep up with what's happening. He can't see much, there is this weird smoky cloud around him and he also can't really breathe, he is just realizing. The cook's lungs inflame or at least that's what it feels like with this huge burning pain spreading in his chest and then he finds himself violently coughing and wheezing for some time. He finds himself on all fours and after a couple of moments notices that he can actually see again, when he isn't squeezing his eyes shut while trying to vomit out his lungs. The cloud must have dissipated. Ah, now he understands what just happened. Exploding like that is probably the fruit's way to scatter its seed to the wind, not that there is much wind on this island or generally air in his lungs. He seems to have inhaled a ton of that dusty stuff when he gasped in surprise. Sanji briefly wonders where his cigarette is. It was the last one in the pack, he can't afford to waste his last smoke like that.

The cook is vaguely aware of a warm hand on his back and another one gripping his upper arm a little too strongly, that's gonna bruise for sure. After a while of what feels like an eternity of suffocating Sanji finally manages to get some air back into his lungs, just enough to keep surviving it seems and maybe even a little more. He is still wheezing heavily but now he slowly becomes fully aware of Zoro kneeling at his side. His worried expression changes into a full out accusing scowl when he realizes the cook probably won't just stupidly die on him here.
"What the fuck was that, shitty cook?!"

"Today ... is not ... my day...", Sanji slowly croaks out with longer pauses inbetween the words, which are filled with the sound of his lungs whistling beautifully with every intake of air. He feels absolutely miserable but the hilarity of the situation is not lost on him and Sanji can't help but laugh at his misfortune, though that quickly turns into another coughing fit.

"You are a fucking idiot", Zoro says into his ear, a little close. Sanji thinks it sounds rather fond though.

It takes a few minutes but the chef finally manages to pull himself together. As he gets his ass off the ground Sanji spots his lost smoke, stoops down to pick it up and, even though it's dirty, crooked and really trampled, puts it in his mouth. He can't be picky when he is all out of cigarettes and Sanji really needs this smoke to calm his lungs and get rid of that iron taste. His hand slips into his pocket to pull out his lighter but he doesn't even get as far as grabbing it when Zoro's fingers deftly pluck the sorry excuse of a smoke from his lips and flick it into the depth of the jungle. Sanji doesn't even bother following it with his eyes and instead opts to angrily spit at Zoro's feet, producing a slightly red-tainted stain on the earth. The swordsman just glares at him.
"Thanks, shitty Marimo, that was my last smoke and I really needed it", Sanji growls and a small cough escapes his lips. "What you need is a brain", Zoro answers with a shake of his head.

Approximately twenty minutes later, Sanji's lungs still occasionally tremble with suppressed coughs, they finally reach the Thousand Sunny. The cook suppresses the urge to just run towards their swimming home and jump aboard to get his hands on some much needed nicotine and his body under a shower. He really doesn't want to risk Zoro getting lost on the last fucking meters, no way is he gonna look for the idiot moss head in that jungle again. Ever.

Usopp, sitting on the railing, tinkering with some junk, looks up and waves at them. Zoro just nods acknowledgingly while Sanji barely keeps himself from kicking his green ass up the gangplank to speed things up as he has long since crossed the limit of his patience. As soon as their feet hit the grassy deck Chopper comes speeding towards them. "Zoro~! Sanji~! You were gone for so long I was starting to get worried, are you guys ok?!" The cook instantly slides to the side closer to Usopp and out of the way of the furry little doctor as their little friend immediately glomps Zoro and clings to him in a surprisingly strong and very affectionate hug. As much as he loves the little bugger Sanji really does not feel like hugging anyone in his sweaty, disgusting state – not even or rather especially not his lovelies, Nami and Robin – much less their furry little friend. Guiltily the chef thinks he will make it up to Chopper later with a sweet, refreshing snack for him. Though luckily, Chopper is entirely focussed on the Marimo and the shitty swordsman does not seem to mind the contact at all. In the privacy of his mind Sanji grumpily admits that it is almost cute – ALMOST – how brotherly Zoro interacts with the small doctor. A defeated sigh leaves Sanji's lips and he shakes his head at his own thoughts. The heat really must have fried his brain.

Usopp shoots him a questioning look, "You look exhausted..." and earns himself a 'No shit' glare from the blond. "He's all yours now, my job is done. I'm done!" Sanji pats the sharpshooter's shoulder and leaves the dumb swordsman in his care. He has successfully brought him back home, his mission is over and he really needs to freshen up now. Usopp just grins and watches the cook dash straight towards the men's quarters. He takes the entrance that's right beside the washroom and a quick glance into the mirror above the sink lets him know that he looks even worse than he thought. With a disgusted and displeased grimace on his face Sanji stalks towards his locker and immediately grabs a pack of cigarettes. Within seconds he has a freshly lit smoke between his lips and inhales deeply. For a moment his lungs sting a little and he fears another coughing fit building up but surprisingly it passes by and he is able to enjoy his long needed cigarette. It does wonders for his frayed nerves. He still definitely needs that shower, though, so Sanji pulls fresh clothes out of his locker – he can't wait to change into them! – and makes his way towards the stern of the ship to get to the bathroom. The chef strictly ignores his captain's shouts for meat, irritatingly he can't even deny that it is close to dinner time and he is indeed late with preparing the evening meal now but he quickly makes up his mind to just cook something fast and simple after he's all cleaned up.

Climbing up the ladder to the bathroom, Sanji passes through the library where Nami is sitting, a ton of maps spread out on the desk in front of her, quill twirling between her delicate fingers as a cute little frown draws her perfect brows together in concentration, ah what a beauty! He does not even have a chance to draw the breath for his rant of compliments when she speaks to him, not even looking up from her work. "Ah Sanji, you're finally back! Took you long enough. We should set sail right now, the wind is ideal at the moment I don't want to lose that advantage!" Sanji blinks twice then throws a disappointed and pained glance up the ladder, the bathroom is right there, only a few more meters. He has half a mind not to sigh in desperation and puts a sing-song tone to his voice as he answers "Yes my princess, I'll get everyone ready on deck!"

The second of hesitation before his answer did not go unnoticed by their sharp navigator's mind and the red-head throws the cook a questioning glance that quickly morphes into an understanding one as she looks him up and down. A smirk pulls at the corners of her mouth and she waves him off. "You do that." So Sanji moves to get back down but Nami continues "AFTER you've cleaned yourself up a bit!" and with a smile on her face she nods up to the bathroom. Nami knows very well how cleanly their cook is and his whole appearance and body language currently screams 'discomfort' to her. Outside of fights she rarely sees him this dishevelled. It must have been one hell of a day for the poor guy to make him into such a mess.

Sanji's face lights up in gratitude. "You are too generous, a true angel! I am awfully sorry that your beautiful eyes had to take in this horrible appearance of mine! I assure you this is just an exception. I will not bother you any further and quickly make myself presentable for you again, my darling!"After a quick bow of his head he dashes up the last rungs of the ladder. "Make it quick!" Nami calls after him, shaking her head, still grinning. He had kept that swoon tirade of his rather short, comparatively, he must really be craving that shower.

Sanji does not waste any time to get undressed. He frowns at his shirt in his hands, there are various kinds of stains all over it. How the hell did he manage do get it that dirty? All because the shitty Marimo had to snore the day away in the fucking jungle, argh! He swears if the washing does not get all the stains out of his clothes, he will have to kick the stupid swordsman's ass again. He throws his clothes into the basket, a little viciously perhaps, leaves his fresh outfit by the sink, grabs a big, fluffy towel and finally enters the bath area. As soon as the warm water of the shower hits his body Sanji instantly relaxes. Not wanting to dilly-dally, the cook grabs his shower gel and sponge and works the grime off his skin diligently. The cleaner his skin gets the better his mood becomes and when he shampoos his hair Sanji is already humming a mindless tune. To get rid of all the residual foam and to end this shower in a refreshing way, Sanji changes the temperature to cold and a pleasant shiver runs through his body and leaves goosebumps all over his skin as he lets the cold spray wash over him.

Compared to the sweltering jungle the temperature on the Sunny is rather tolerable, nonetheless the cook can't wait to leave this island and hurries to dry himself off. He'd like to catch that favourable breeze Nami was talking about. Sanji rubs the clammy towel over his head to get most of the wetness out of his hair. At first he thinks it is the water being rung out of his strands dripping from his face but as the tiles get sprinkled with red dots he realizes it is blood. Huh, why is there blood dripping from his face?

Sanji rushes to the mirror and just in time puts the towel under his chin to catch the stream of blood that now keeps flowing from his nostrils. By far, the cook is no stranger to nosebleeds, though usually they come out in squirts and sprays following heavenly sights or thoughts of lovely, scantily clad ladies. Neither of which he had just experienced to trigger this gooey but still heavy flow of blood. He can taste it at the back of his throat and tries not to swallow too much, it would only make him feel sick. Luckily it doesn't last long though, wouldn't want to get scolded by Chopper again. The little doctor had just recently restocked on the rare blood supplies for him again.

Sanji cleans up quickly and gets dressed. He washes out the towel before throwing it into the laundry basket, blood is a bitch to get out of fabric when it's dried in. Checking himself in the mirror when he is finished, Sanji flashes his reflection a bright and satisfied smile. Finally human again!

On his way down to the deck, the chef notices that Nami is no longer in the library. She has already gathered the rest of the crew outside and as soon as Sanji joins them on the lawn deck Luffy yells his command to set sail and embark towards the next adventure with his usual enthusiasm. Their navigator immediately takes over and shouts commands to everyone. Zoro and Sanji climb up the rigging of the foremast to untie the sail, a task they've done a thousand times already and could probably do in their sleep. Up high Sanji feels the strong gust pushing against his body, blowing his still wet hair into his face and bringing a cool freshness to replace the stagnant thick air of the summer island. The sails immediately catch the wind and stretch into big-bellied arcs and soon the Sunny is on her way.

Sanji does not even spare the shitty island another glance as they leave it behind. He looks far ahead towards the horizon and inhales the salty sea air. For just a splitsecond something feels a little off but the cook can't really put his finger on this feeling and it is as quickly forgotten as it appeared.

Climbing back down towards the deck Sanji can see the swordsman do the same across from him on the other side of the mast. As soon as his feet hit the deck Sanji fishes for a cigarette inside his breast pocket and earns himself an annoyed glare from Zoro. Tsk, whatever his problem is, the cook does not have time for it right now. With a quick flick of his thumb the golden zippo provides the flame to light his smoke, the cherry glows a bright red as Sanji sucks at the filter and fills his lungs with the nicotine.

Time to get dinner ready. Ignoring the piercing glare from the swordsman and the unspoken invitation for one of their usual fights, Sanji makes his way into the galley before he will have to listen to Luffy's cries for meat. Not that they don't reach him through the closed door of the galley anyway but he prefers to already be working on the food that is being demanded.

Leaning over the dining room table, Sanji makes a grab for his ashtray to stomp out his cigarette. Pulling the ashtray close, his eyes widen at the path of little red sprinkles across the wooden table surface. This time his hand immediately comes up to wipe at his nose and sure enough another nosebleed is getting started as proven by the bloody smear on his hand. Discarding his cigarette in the ashtray with a string of curses under his breath, the cook immediately pinches his nose closed. He is not going to further sully the dining area, that is unsanitary as shit.

A quick glance outside through the porthole in the galley door tells the chef that Zoro is napping on the lawn as usual, like the lazy bastard that he is, while Luffy, Usopp and Chopper have their heads together in a secret discussion, probably thinking up some dumb shit again. The others he can't locate but all he wanted to know was if the infirmary would be occupied. With Chopper busy on deck Sanji quickly enters the sick bay through the door that connects it to the galley and blesses this convenience. He does not want the little doctor to get all hyped about a stupid nosebleed again, even if it is his second one today. Knowing all too well where the bandages and other dressing materials are stored away, Sanji takes a big gauze out of the medical supply shelf and presses it against his nostrils before he unpinches his nose and lets the fabric soak up the mess.

While he is at it he also steals one of those many disinfectant sprays lying around. Chopper surely won't miss one small bottle, the dining table needs to be thoroughly cleaned before anyone dines there again. Ah shit, Sanji is already late with preparing the meal – he has not even started yet for fuck's sake – and it's already pissing him off.

It only takes a couple of minutes for the bleeding to stop again, the gauze is almost soppy with blood though, but it feels like forever for Sanji, whose impatience grows bigger by the second. When he is finally sure that the nosebleed is over, the cook aggressively gets rid of of the soaked gauze in the medical bin, sparing it just a single disgusted glance, cleans his hands and face and returns to the kitchen, where he immediately and more than thouroughly cleans the table, probably half emptying the bottle of disinfectant and almost scrubbing the wood varnish off in his frenzy just to be on the safe side.

Finally able to cook but in a very bad mood now, Sanji decides to save some time by using the pot of left-over soup from yesterday as a base for this meal. He'll add some extra meat for his Captain and change it up enough to not just be a repetition of yesterday's dish, his pride as a first-class chef won't allow that. With his multitasking and extremely fast cutting skills Sanji quickly transforms the old soup – which already was extremely delicious and nobody would have complained about the chance to taste it again – into a thick and rich stew. During the cooking process Sanji's frown and bad mood are fast replaced by his usual smile and joy at being in his element.

He swiftly and efficiently sets the dining table, two baskets of freshly cut bread placed at each end of it, everyone's favourite drinks already in their respective places, then he returns to the stove for some last seasoning. Stiring the finished stew Sanji bows over the pot to inhale the aroma but instead of the delicious scent of his meal he smells...nothing? The steam keeps hitting his face and reluctantly he sniffs again but the result is the same. Maybe the nosebleeds fucked up his smell, yeah that's probably it. A little unsettled Sanji takes a big spoon and scoops up some stew to taste-test his food but much like his nose his tongue fails him, too. He tries again and in his haste burns the tip of his tongue but other than the pain it registers nothing else, no taste at all.

Feeling a bout of panic bubble up inside him the cook vehemently suppresses the feeling. This is ridiculous, what kind of chef is he supposed to be if he can't even smell and taste his food?! Sanji throws a sceptical glance towards the stew. What if it tastes like shit?! He shakes his head and forces himself to calm down. No it won't taste bad. He knows what he is doing and he knows he has seasoned it well. His habit of taste-testing is just to confirm it to himself. But still, not being able to confirm the taste bothers him a shitton.

Thinking about it, aren't those symptoms of a simple cold? Sanji can't remember the last time he had a cold, in fact, he is pretty sure he has not suffered through one before. But he surely has heard many people complain about being sick, they always wailed about not being able to taste his delicious meals and their noses being useless. Could that be it? Probably. Sanji's mind flashes back to the ice-cold shower and the cool wind on his skin up in the riggings a while ago after having suffered through the jungle heat and being drenched in his own sweat for way too many hours that day. Yeah, looks like he's coming down with a cold. Convinced by his own logic, Sanji feels the tension leave his body. Still miffed about this whole day and his continuing bad luck, he decides he can't do much about it.

With a rather gentle kick the galley door flies open and the chef calls the crew to the table, a suave invitation for the ladies and a rather crude threat for the uncivilized guys, as always. In the short time it takes for everyone to show up, Sanji sets up some water to boil, cuts a lemon and some ginger into slices and pulls the pot of honey from its shelf. Even though he himself has not been ill before, as a chef he of course knows what is supposed to help in such cases, at least in regards to nutrition and household tips. The cook really does not want to bother their little doctor with a mere cold and quite frankly the thought of pumping his body full of weird medicine for a simple problem like that does not sit well with him. Sanji is sure he will be over this in a couple of days time, at maximum. Probably less.

And with that he puts those thoughts aside and focusses entirely on serving the food to his apparently starving crew. The usual chaos ensues during the meal and Sanji is busy with refilling the plates, yelling at Luffy, bickering with Zoro and servicing the ladies. Inbetween everything, though, he can't help but look out for any telling reactions towards the taste of his stew but everyone is eating heartily and seems to be enjoying his meal.

A relieved smile pulls at the corner of his mouth.

There is nothing to worry about then.