Sanji/Zoro

Soulmates where a strange curious mystery that not many people understood. They were confusing, to many. The average way to tell you had a soulmate was a name. A name written in your soulmates signature, from birth to death. Anytime their signature changed style or became cleaner so did the mark.

Most of the time people weren't born with the name on their wrist and instead only had a strait black line and only under different types of circumstances would it morph into a name.

The soul mates could reject each other, even though it would be painful for the one rejected, but that rarely happened. And never was a bond platonic.

Most people loved their soulmates signature and felt nothing but hope and love when looking at it.

Zoro stared at his wrist with despair and couldn't bring himself to feel any of that. Not when his hopes had just been crushed so agonizingly. Hopes that he had had all his life. Hopes of finding someone that could actually love him and his entire brash unsocial self. Someone who could keep up with him and accept him. Someone to chase the loneliness away. To make him feel like he can be loved.

Those hopes had shattered after he had glanced at his wrist while training after they had once again escaped one of the marines ships. His mark had been a line for so long that he had stopped checking it every day long ago.

So when he had taken the band off to readjust it he had been surprised to see something other that the plain line on his wrist. He had examined it and immediately felt his heart plummet to his feet.

The name that had written its self on his wrist was that only person he knew for certain would never accept him, like he had wanted, from his soulmate.

He already knew everything about his soulmate so the usual curiosity that was supposed to follow after he saw it never came.

His soulmate loved to cook, hated men, adored women, fought with his feet, smoked, and his name was Sanji.

Zoro had to curse his fate. Because whatever controlled it seemed to love to break his heart.

He had already been in love with the blonde in the first place, and knew he would never have a chance. To learn that the cook was his soulmate was just the icing on the cake.

He was doomed.

Oh joy.