Disclaimer: One Piece belongs to its rightful license corporation and its
mangaka. I only own the concept and the process of writing this story.
OP fanfiction: slight OCC, SxN
***********************************************************
SCARS Chapter 1: Etched into Bones
***********************************************************
The first thing in the morning that the go merry crew's cook would always do, is to turn himself over to the other side of the bed. Then, he would reach for the glass of water that sits on top of the shelf, and drink it all down.
Sanji believed that it's essential for a man to have good breath. Especially when a super-gorgeous creature like Nami was just in another room down the hall.
So he had always kept a glass of fresh, cold spring water right by his bed. And he's proud to say that he would be the only one on the go merry - well, Nami and Robin didn't count in this case - that would wake up clean, fresh and composed. Not like Usopp, often with drool all over his face. Not like Chopper, who would whine and throw an immature tantrum every time someone tried to wake him up. Or Zoro, who's never truly awake in reality. Or Luffy, who never washes his face before breakfast, as he says it would "ruin his appetite."
But today was a little bit different.
The first thing that struck him when he opened his eyes was how heavy everything feels. The ceiling seemed to weigh down on him. His blanket felt like a burden; it was as if 500 bags of grains were placed on top of him. His legs were numb. His limbs felt heavy. He could barely open his eyelids, and when he tried to turn around to reach for his routine glass of water- he found out that he just couldn't do it.
But no, nothing could ever keep the cook away from the first step to another one of his perfect morning, a morning where he would be able to whip up yet another one of his masterpiece recipes and serve his shipmates. So Sanji tossed and turned; with every ounce of his strength he tried to turn towards the cupboard, and, after a few long minutes, he was successful in turning himself to the other side.
But his glass of water wasn't there.
Sanji sighed. That's it; he had officially lost it. From the day that he boarded the Go Merry he had never, never missed putting his glass beside his bed every night. Just what was with him? Sanji tried to think hard, but as he dug deeper into his thoughts and tried to take a stroll down the memory lane, the slight pounding that had been constant since the moment he woke up augmented in its silent volume.
He sighed and decided to wait for the pain to subside. He closed his eyes as he shifted position in his bed, and as he did so, his leg came into contact with warm, soft flesh that evidently, wasn't his own.
Despite the extreme tiredness and pain that still hung over him like a heavy veil, Sanji jolted and gave a small yelp. And then he remembered that there were other guys of the go merry with him that was in the same room.
"Stupid Zoro," Sanji muttered. To accentuate his point, Sanji gave the mass of flesh - which he presumed to be Zoro, and if not, Usopp- a good but light-hearted kick. That would teach them to never hang off of another man's bed again.
He was more than mildly surprised when he heard a female cry of pain at the foot of his bed.
"Ow...that hurts."
And it sounded exactly like Nami.
Sanji practically jumped when he identified whom the speaker was. Did he just kicked, of all people, the crew's navigator and the apple of his heart?
He thought that she would have, like always, bolted up and gave him a good whack on the head. He waited. One, two, three...nothing.
Sanji peered over to the edge of the bed. And, to his surprise, Nami merely muttered in her sleep, an incoherent babble on her part, and her head dipped back into the fluffy mattress again. Sanji sighed. Nami probably thought it was part of her dream. As soon as that thought sank in, Nami started to snore softly, and her shoulders rose rhythmically, matching to his own quiet but slightly ragged breathing.
Sanji sat up and propped his head against a pillow. The sight of her sleeping there startled him, and he could feel a warm tug to his heart. Did she stay by him all night, keeping an eye over him and making sure that he would have a good night's rest?
Seeing her head resting against the bedpost seemed like a miracle to Sanji. He watched as the morning sunlight wove its rays into her auburn hair, giving it an almost ethereal glow. With half of her face hidden beneath her elbow, Nami appeared much more fragile and childish than usual. Her eyelashes looked impossibly long, and her eyebrows, even in her sleep, stay in that defiant shape of hers. Fast asleep, Nami looked like a stubborn little girl. Sanji gazed at her face lovingly, and he was surprised to see that small, but clearly visible dark rings, and even tiny lines have started to form under her eyes and its corners. Knowing that Nami is impeccable with her appearance, he couldn't help but wonder just what was the source of those lines etched on her face.
He glanced around the room. Only Chopper remained in his usual spot in the far-left corner of the room. Usopp, Luffy and Zoro were nowhere in sight.
Just what was going on?
Despite his body's silent complaints, Sanji leaned forward and tapped Nami on the shoulder. When she merely stirred, Sanji gave her a good slap at her back. She jolted from her sleep immediately.
"What the hell do you want?" Nami fired, and her hand reached out to grab the closest.weapon that she could find.
"Good morning, Nami-san."
Nami's eyes widened at the response. And then she remembered where she was. Witnessing the look of recognition on her face, Sanji gave the girl a smile, which she promptly returned.
At once, Sanji fumbled in his shirt pocket, looking for a cigarette. When he took it out, Nami immediately slapped it away.
"No cigarettes for today, Sanji-kun." She scolded him in a warm voice. "Eat something, or drink something else instead. Anything but alcohol."
"But why, Nami? No one cared about my smoking habits before. If it bothers you, you know that I would correct it. But why tell me this now?"
Nami stared at him in silence. Slowly, a small flush crept onto her face, and she dipped her head down. "Sanji-kun, please listen to me. Just for this time."
Sanji's heart sank. The way that she slowly drawled out her words, and her pleading voice...was there something that she's hiding from him? But despite all, he would always turn back to her.
Always.
"You know that I would do anything for you, Nami-san."
Nami lifted her head up to meet Sanji's soft, loving gaze. She took it all in; his distinctively shaped eyebrow, the tiny twinkle in his eye, the straight nose, the modest stubble on his chin, and the signature smile that hung on his face. A few wisps of blond hair covered one of his eyes, yet underneath it all she could still feel his intense gaze on her face. Unable to control herself, she reached out a hand to touch his cheek, her sleek fingers sliding on his skin. His skin felt rough, an indication of a rough life on the sea; and his lips were chapped, his face enshrouded by an unhealthy glow. As she leaned closer to him, she could hear his uneven breathing, a clear sign of the state of his well being.
Nami knew that she was the cause to all of this. The Sanji-kun who had survived 90 days with a meagre amount of food on a stranded island, the man who had never fallen sick in his entire life, was now stuck in a bed with his health failing him. All because of her.
Had he not saved her from Ener back in the Angel Islands, had he not taken that thunderous blow from the God, he would not have to lie in this bed. During the past few days, the images of him taking the blow for her kept replaying itself in her head. Unbeknownst to Sanji, he was in a coma ever since the crew returned safely to the ship. Everyone except the cook had healed in a few days' time. Nami, who was worried sick of Sanji, decided to take full care of Sanji, and had thus kicked out everybody else in the room save Chopper. Little did he know about all the tears that she had shed for him in the past week. Nor did he know of the others of the Go Merry crew, who worried for Nami's health as she refused to eat, so she could take care of him. Yet all of this still could not compensate the guilt that Nami had felt, for being the source to the immense physical pain that Sanji had to go through. When her eyes met Sanji's and that usual puppy look hung on his face, she couldn't help but let out a small sob, her guilt overwhelming her control.
Sanji was devastated to see Nami cry. As usual, the lovesick cook thought it was his fault. "I am sorry, Nami...I shouldn't have talk back. I will not smoke today, I promise," he blurted out and crushed the cigarette in his hand. With one swift bend of his elbow, he threw the pieces of tobacco into the garbage can on the corner. As soon as he did that, Sanji bent down in agony, as a pain severe as fire instantly swept across his upper arm and all the way to his shoulders.
His pain fled away at once when he felt Nami's soft arms enclosing him in an embrace.
One of her hands had positioned itself at the small of his back, while the other shyly found itself on the back of his neck, smoothing the skin in circles. She rested her chin lightly on one side of his shoulder, and judging from the way that she was holding him, Sanji had the feeling that Nami was waiting a long time for this embrace, one that was also anticipated on his part. It was as if she was clutching to him for dear life. Her fresh citrus scent crept into his nose, prompting Sanji to clumsily place his own two aching, but longing arms around the girl's back as well. He was so content in the embrace that the sound of his bones creaking under pressure had entirely escaped his ears. All he could think of was how delectable her cool, luscious flesh had felt in his arms. Closing his eyes in happiness, Sanji also failed to detect Nami's grimace, as his skin had felt unnaturally feverish against hers.
What Sanji also missed were the tears that flowed freely from Nami's eyes. The salty liquid slid down the side of her face, and Nami stuck out her tongue and drank it, trying hard not to let Sanji knew that she was crying. Snuggling her head deep into the folds of his shirt, she suppressed another sob and tightened her hold on the blond-haired man.
"I am sorry, Sanji."
TBC.........
Dear readers: kindly please review. Reviews meant a lot to me and they are the motivation to my continuing the story. I would also learn how to do a better job with this, and as you probably know, all writers crave feedback.
Thank you for reading.
Contact Ria/Cha-chan at: panpan2spcs@yahoo.com **
OP fanfiction: slight OCC, SxN
***********************************************************
SCARS Chapter 1: Etched into Bones
***********************************************************
The first thing in the morning that the go merry crew's cook would always do, is to turn himself over to the other side of the bed. Then, he would reach for the glass of water that sits on top of the shelf, and drink it all down.
Sanji believed that it's essential for a man to have good breath. Especially when a super-gorgeous creature like Nami was just in another room down the hall.
So he had always kept a glass of fresh, cold spring water right by his bed. And he's proud to say that he would be the only one on the go merry - well, Nami and Robin didn't count in this case - that would wake up clean, fresh and composed. Not like Usopp, often with drool all over his face. Not like Chopper, who would whine and throw an immature tantrum every time someone tried to wake him up. Or Zoro, who's never truly awake in reality. Or Luffy, who never washes his face before breakfast, as he says it would "ruin his appetite."
But today was a little bit different.
The first thing that struck him when he opened his eyes was how heavy everything feels. The ceiling seemed to weigh down on him. His blanket felt like a burden; it was as if 500 bags of grains were placed on top of him. His legs were numb. His limbs felt heavy. He could barely open his eyelids, and when he tried to turn around to reach for his routine glass of water- he found out that he just couldn't do it.
But no, nothing could ever keep the cook away from the first step to another one of his perfect morning, a morning where he would be able to whip up yet another one of his masterpiece recipes and serve his shipmates. So Sanji tossed and turned; with every ounce of his strength he tried to turn towards the cupboard, and, after a few long minutes, he was successful in turning himself to the other side.
But his glass of water wasn't there.
Sanji sighed. That's it; he had officially lost it. From the day that he boarded the Go Merry he had never, never missed putting his glass beside his bed every night. Just what was with him? Sanji tried to think hard, but as he dug deeper into his thoughts and tried to take a stroll down the memory lane, the slight pounding that had been constant since the moment he woke up augmented in its silent volume.
He sighed and decided to wait for the pain to subside. He closed his eyes as he shifted position in his bed, and as he did so, his leg came into contact with warm, soft flesh that evidently, wasn't his own.
Despite the extreme tiredness and pain that still hung over him like a heavy veil, Sanji jolted and gave a small yelp. And then he remembered that there were other guys of the go merry with him that was in the same room.
"Stupid Zoro," Sanji muttered. To accentuate his point, Sanji gave the mass of flesh - which he presumed to be Zoro, and if not, Usopp- a good but light-hearted kick. That would teach them to never hang off of another man's bed again.
He was more than mildly surprised when he heard a female cry of pain at the foot of his bed.
"Ow...that hurts."
And it sounded exactly like Nami.
Sanji practically jumped when he identified whom the speaker was. Did he just kicked, of all people, the crew's navigator and the apple of his heart?
He thought that she would have, like always, bolted up and gave him a good whack on the head. He waited. One, two, three...nothing.
Sanji peered over to the edge of the bed. And, to his surprise, Nami merely muttered in her sleep, an incoherent babble on her part, and her head dipped back into the fluffy mattress again. Sanji sighed. Nami probably thought it was part of her dream. As soon as that thought sank in, Nami started to snore softly, and her shoulders rose rhythmically, matching to his own quiet but slightly ragged breathing.
Sanji sat up and propped his head against a pillow. The sight of her sleeping there startled him, and he could feel a warm tug to his heart. Did she stay by him all night, keeping an eye over him and making sure that he would have a good night's rest?
Seeing her head resting against the bedpost seemed like a miracle to Sanji. He watched as the morning sunlight wove its rays into her auburn hair, giving it an almost ethereal glow. With half of her face hidden beneath her elbow, Nami appeared much more fragile and childish than usual. Her eyelashes looked impossibly long, and her eyebrows, even in her sleep, stay in that defiant shape of hers. Fast asleep, Nami looked like a stubborn little girl. Sanji gazed at her face lovingly, and he was surprised to see that small, but clearly visible dark rings, and even tiny lines have started to form under her eyes and its corners. Knowing that Nami is impeccable with her appearance, he couldn't help but wonder just what was the source of those lines etched on her face.
He glanced around the room. Only Chopper remained in his usual spot in the far-left corner of the room. Usopp, Luffy and Zoro were nowhere in sight.
Just what was going on?
Despite his body's silent complaints, Sanji leaned forward and tapped Nami on the shoulder. When she merely stirred, Sanji gave her a good slap at her back. She jolted from her sleep immediately.
"What the hell do you want?" Nami fired, and her hand reached out to grab the closest.weapon that she could find.
"Good morning, Nami-san."
Nami's eyes widened at the response. And then she remembered where she was. Witnessing the look of recognition on her face, Sanji gave the girl a smile, which she promptly returned.
At once, Sanji fumbled in his shirt pocket, looking for a cigarette. When he took it out, Nami immediately slapped it away.
"No cigarettes for today, Sanji-kun." She scolded him in a warm voice. "Eat something, or drink something else instead. Anything but alcohol."
"But why, Nami? No one cared about my smoking habits before. If it bothers you, you know that I would correct it. But why tell me this now?"
Nami stared at him in silence. Slowly, a small flush crept onto her face, and she dipped her head down. "Sanji-kun, please listen to me. Just for this time."
Sanji's heart sank. The way that she slowly drawled out her words, and her pleading voice...was there something that she's hiding from him? But despite all, he would always turn back to her.
Always.
"You know that I would do anything for you, Nami-san."
Nami lifted her head up to meet Sanji's soft, loving gaze. She took it all in; his distinctively shaped eyebrow, the tiny twinkle in his eye, the straight nose, the modest stubble on his chin, and the signature smile that hung on his face. A few wisps of blond hair covered one of his eyes, yet underneath it all she could still feel his intense gaze on her face. Unable to control herself, she reached out a hand to touch his cheek, her sleek fingers sliding on his skin. His skin felt rough, an indication of a rough life on the sea; and his lips were chapped, his face enshrouded by an unhealthy glow. As she leaned closer to him, she could hear his uneven breathing, a clear sign of the state of his well being.
Nami knew that she was the cause to all of this. The Sanji-kun who had survived 90 days with a meagre amount of food on a stranded island, the man who had never fallen sick in his entire life, was now stuck in a bed with his health failing him. All because of her.
Had he not saved her from Ener back in the Angel Islands, had he not taken that thunderous blow from the God, he would not have to lie in this bed. During the past few days, the images of him taking the blow for her kept replaying itself in her head. Unbeknownst to Sanji, he was in a coma ever since the crew returned safely to the ship. Everyone except the cook had healed in a few days' time. Nami, who was worried sick of Sanji, decided to take full care of Sanji, and had thus kicked out everybody else in the room save Chopper. Little did he know about all the tears that she had shed for him in the past week. Nor did he know of the others of the Go Merry crew, who worried for Nami's health as she refused to eat, so she could take care of him. Yet all of this still could not compensate the guilt that Nami had felt, for being the source to the immense physical pain that Sanji had to go through. When her eyes met Sanji's and that usual puppy look hung on his face, she couldn't help but let out a small sob, her guilt overwhelming her control.
Sanji was devastated to see Nami cry. As usual, the lovesick cook thought it was his fault. "I am sorry, Nami...I shouldn't have talk back. I will not smoke today, I promise," he blurted out and crushed the cigarette in his hand. With one swift bend of his elbow, he threw the pieces of tobacco into the garbage can on the corner. As soon as he did that, Sanji bent down in agony, as a pain severe as fire instantly swept across his upper arm and all the way to his shoulders.
His pain fled away at once when he felt Nami's soft arms enclosing him in an embrace.
One of her hands had positioned itself at the small of his back, while the other shyly found itself on the back of his neck, smoothing the skin in circles. She rested her chin lightly on one side of his shoulder, and judging from the way that she was holding him, Sanji had the feeling that Nami was waiting a long time for this embrace, one that was also anticipated on his part. It was as if she was clutching to him for dear life. Her fresh citrus scent crept into his nose, prompting Sanji to clumsily place his own two aching, but longing arms around the girl's back as well. He was so content in the embrace that the sound of his bones creaking under pressure had entirely escaped his ears. All he could think of was how delectable her cool, luscious flesh had felt in his arms. Closing his eyes in happiness, Sanji also failed to detect Nami's grimace, as his skin had felt unnaturally feverish against hers.
What Sanji also missed were the tears that flowed freely from Nami's eyes. The salty liquid slid down the side of her face, and Nami stuck out her tongue and drank it, trying hard not to let Sanji knew that she was crying. Snuggling her head deep into the folds of his shirt, she suppressed another sob and tightened her hold on the blond-haired man.
"I am sorry, Sanji."
TBC.........
Dear readers: kindly please review. Reviews meant a lot to me and they are the motivation to my continuing the story. I would also learn how to do a better job with this, and as you probably know, all writers crave feedback.
Thank you for reading.
Contact Ria/Cha-chan at: panpan2spcs@yahoo.com **