Chapter 1
"Now our desire leads us
On another journey
So let us depart again
Come with me now
Just as the promise says"
- Long Journey – Gábor Presser
The train rushed through the humid afternoon almost soundlessly. Sanji was gazing out dully onto the gray clouds leaden from rain, discovering his own worn reflection amidst the water drops running down the window.
Zeff had accepted too many events again. The Baratie had been reserved months ahead by soon-to-be-wed couples, who, hoping for the beautiful color-display of autumn, had all wanted to marry in that time of the year. Well, he hadn't been really to blame for the strong cold-wave that had covered Japan, washing away all their rose-colored dreams with its weeks-worth of rain and dampness. As well as it hadn't been Zeff's fault that he had gone down with the flu during the busiest days, along with some of the cooks.
To top it off, a week before, the old good-for-nothing had stumbled into the kitchen, his head spinning with fever, loudly declaring that a mere cold would not be able to get him off his feet, and then proceeding to launch himself onto the staff with the force of a whole army of angered toreadors. Sanji had just been about to drag him out, when Zeff had suddenly stopped still, had grown dizzy and then had tumbled to the floor. Thus, the old fool had become bedridden for not one, but two reasons: firstly, to be cured of the gooey mucus, and secondly, to let the swelling of his ankle – the result of his fall – decrease.
For the above reasons, when Sanji was not busy with running the restaurant, he was sprinting about in the kitchen to try to compensate for the lack of cooks.
Sanji sighed deeply, and let himself be swept passively by the crowd streaming in. The door of the wagon fell closed with a thunder, behind the back of an old lady who had just boarded the train. The granny glanced around in a perplexed manner, clutching her small, brown bag tightly to her chest, whilst adjusting the tufts of the green shawl she was wearing on her back bent with age.
"Madame," Sanji nodded to the lady. The old woman's astonished gaze wandered between the blond's hand that was stretched towards her, and his politely smiling face, while holding her tiny bag even closer. The cook recognized it right away – it was the typical reaction when you have to go to a place you don't really feel like being, or don't know your way around. "Madame, forgive me if I have frightened you. Are you traveling around these parts for the first time? If you like, I will gladly help you and tell you where to go."
A relieved smile spread across the old lady's face, her skin folding into thousands of smile wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth.
"Oh... Oh, thank you, young man, you're very kind." She accepted the hand held to her. "I need to get to the Tokyo Tower. My grandson is waiting for me there with the group. He's a very talented painter, you know..." The lady said in a dreamy voice, her eyes bearing a gentle glow behind her semicircular spectacles.
"I see. Then you will have to get off after two stations," the blond replied in a calm voice, ignoring the flagrant insults of the teen he had dragged up from his seat to give room for the granny. "After we have stopped, just follow the crowd. Most of the people getting off at that station are headed in that direction."
"Thank you, young man." The pale light from outside shimmered across the lady's hair, rolled up in whirls of locks. "I'm so glad there are still such –"
Sanji didn't hear the rest, because in the meantime, the train had come to a stop, and the wave of people pushing inside took him with their momentum. He could barely keep himself from cursing aloud as the bodies hitting against his unstoppably pushed, turned and shoved him more and more inside... Finally, the wagon calmed down somewhat, and the train was rolling once again. The cook blindly grabbed a handrail when the mass of passengers started to move again, losing his freshly-gained balance.
This day couldn't have been worse. Not to mention that Sanji had always hated public transport. How great it would be, he thought, to finally arrive home, strip off his clothes which had almost grown to his skin from two days of wearing, take a shower and after a glass of Merlot, fall asleep to the sounds of the TV. His teeth ground together with tense anticipation.
However, as he let his disgusted glance wander over his surroundings, something interesting caught his eye. He didn't know why the sight seemed so strange to him all of a sudden, but then it clicked.
On the farther end, a peculiar figure was sitting hunched up on the edge of a seat. His baseball cap pulled down into his face, the guy was sleeping so soundly as if he was surrounded with complete silence and peace, despite the ever-louder noise and the sweaty and irate office workers pushing against him from every side. His legs, clad in gray jeans, were opened loosely, his arms woven together on his white-green sweater covered chest. Total calmness radiated from the man's posture and slightly slouched shoulders, and the cook could have sworn that the curious stranger – who had green, green locks of hair peeking forth from under his cap – was at least six feet under.
The cook felt his overly tense muscles loosen up, and the pumping also quieted down somewhat in the thick vein on his temples. As he kept watching him, Sanji could feel the man's tranquility getting carried over onto him, secluding him from his annoying surroundings, and after a while, he could only register the madness around as a blurred, outer sphere.
"The next stop is XYZ station. Dear passengers, XYZ station is our next stop..."
Sanji's head jerked up. The bubble had burst, and he made his way towards the exit. How had he not noticed that the had already passed by five stops?!
The door barely closed behind him, and when he turned around, for a second he could still spot the gleam of the AC/DC badge on that baseball cap's brim among the train's distorted shapes, as it got into motion again. He realized he probably should have shaken the guy awake. The blond had been traveling these lines for, give or take, five years, but he had never seen him around before. The poor idiot had probably fallen asleep, and when he would wake up later and realize, he wouldn't know where he had ended up.
"Dammit," Sanji mumbled, then followed the crowd towards the escalator. "Well, doesn't matter."
He didn't even notice he was smiling all the way home.
TBC
