AN: This was originally a one-shot, uploaded in another account, but I've decided that it stands better as a multiple chapter story. This was written to push through my writer's block so it's written in a more structured, sophisticated manner, and it's all about the bond between the younger Sanji and Zoro. Admittedly it was supposed to be fluffy and happy, but it didn't turn out that way because there are implicit deaths, not the major characters (not in this story anyways) and some painful recollections told, you guessed it, from Zoro and Sanji.
I like to thank writer-xanthangummy for editing my first draft, she was incredibly helpful since she's such a great editor.
Anyways, updates on my other stories since I haven't been alive for months now, I'm almost finished with the last chapter of 'what are the chances' and I'm on my way to fix up the rest of my stories. I'm going to seriously fix up 'elucidation' since I'm dissatisfied with how I handled the recent chapters. I'm going to finish up 'look again' with probably one more chapter. And I'm planning to upload a whole new story, a novel length one, and I'm really excited about it, I've already written four chapters, but I don't think I will upload it until I finish it up, sorry guys. I will write a few one-shots to make it up.
Enjoy this story~
There was only a boy around the age of twelve, a man triple the age of the boy, sheltered inside from the screeching storm. Both remained silent as they individually concentrated on their own tasks.
While the old man focused on sharpening his kitchen knives, the boy became distracted as he gazed into the direction of the window instead.
The raindrops splashed and divided against the windows, rolling and tumbling under the relentless caress of the wind, its repetitive pitter patters like little fingers tapping against the glass, generating a beat to a song only mother nature was able to create, and it was steady, peaceful, cleansing; translucent and gentle. The boy was wholly entranced by the achromatic display of nature.
He squinted his eyes when he saw a disturbance in the center of the thick mist, a large figure approaching, but the outline of the shape was unclear.
"Oi, old fart!" his high pitched voice punctured the silence.
The familiar baritone-tenor voice asked, "What is it, Eggplant?"
"There's someone coming. I think it's a customer."
The figure approached steadily, and second by second the shape became discernible as a man, though the grayish mist still acted as a cloak around his form.
The old fart snorted in disbelief. "Stop bullshitting, Eggplant, who would be outside in this stormy weather?"
The boy stomped his foot on the marble floor tile and shouted, "Well, I'm not fucking hallucinating, you old fart! I'm telling you, there is someone out there!" He directed his index finger towards the window to clarify his point. "Look!" He curled his fingers around the white window sill and plastered his forehead against the frigid glass.
In response to the boy's demands, assortments of noises were heard; a heavy sigh, a loud grunt, and resonating taps and clicks of Zeff's leather shoe and wooden peg, followed by a low grumble. "Hell, I would have never thought anyone could love my cooking that much." A soft rumble of vibration was felt when the old man chuckled in mirth.
The blonde boy snorted, but remained silent otherwise.
When the sudden hollow echo of knuckles tapped on the wooden door, the two chefs instantaneously maintained an upright position to greet the mysterious customer.
There was a high sense of alert. The fact that a stranger was standing in front of the restaurant in the middle of the storm, at night, it was kind of uncanny, also eerie, it tugged a memory of that one evening he and Zeff watched a horror flick to pass the time and boredom, it was fond at the time but currently it only expanded his fear to swell over his chest. His pulse quickened.
A man with quite the large frame was soaked to the bone from head to toe, he stood by the door with his brown foliage T-shirt that stuck to his chest, accentuating his muscular form, camouflage pants that hung loosely around his hips, an olive colored micro fleece cap that hid his hair, and a forest green duffel bag that he protectively carried in his hand.
His teeth were involuntarily chattering, "C-Can I stay here for the night? I don't have any money on me right now but I can pay later on, I assure you." He spoke with a peculiar accent which was rather difficult to pinpoint.
Zeff nodded as he closed the door behind the stranger.
"You must be hungry, I'll cook you something." He turned towards Sanji, "Oi, Eggplant, go fetch this man a towel."
When he spoke of the nickname, the boy straightened his back, alertly. He would've quarreled with his old man if the third party hadn't been in the room, but for the moment he listened obediently.
— «[=]» — «[=]» — «[=]» —
After having to acquire the requested items from the towel racks, the blond boy walked downstairs to see the man sitting alone, shedding away his provisions, mild thumps of his old man cooking in the kitchen above.
"Here," Sanji extended his arm to hand the dry towel over to the man, acting with great caution.
The stranger glanced up at the boy before silently taking the towel from his small hands. The blond gaped in shock when the man took of his cap, revealing the color of his short choppy hair.
"Your hair is green, sir" Sanji said without a beat, though it was an obvious statement to the man.
The stranger disheveled and tousled his damp hair with the white towel, then softly under his breath, he mumbled, "And your eyebrows are really weird, boy." His tone was monotonic, but it had an undertone of mirth.
Sanji huffed in response, "My eyebrows are not weird, you shitty cactus-head."
He smirked, That was smart. Sanji proudly patted himself on the back.
The man's brows twitched, but the rest of his face remained calm, stoic, professionally emotionless, as he replied. "Your eyebrows look like dartboards, you brat." He squinted and his gaze turned menacing, and Sanji gulped.
The boy let out a sigh of relief when Zeff called from the kitchen, "Sanji! Come and help me, you shitty Eggplant!"
"Yeah, yeah, old geezer, I'm coming," he grumbled, sounding peeved.
However, clandestinely, he was eager to help out; after all, the old man allowed the boy to observe his cooking skills while he performed chores on the side.
— «[=]» — «[=]» — «[=]» —
"You know I've heard about All Blue. It really does sound like a cook's heaven... Too bad it's not real. A mystical sea where fish from each of the seven seas gather? Heh, get real kid. That's impossible, almost as unreal as Peterpan." A clear voice rang in the profound part of his consciousness, followed by a rather exaggerated snort. "Actually, you might be better off trying to find Peterpan."
A young, familiar voice heatedly argued against the mockery, stricken with vivid anger, "No, you're wrong! All Blue is real, you don't know anything!" His defense mechanism was in gear, dismissing any external opinions other than his own.
"Neither do you, kid..."
The man paused as he pondered over his impending words, seemingly hesitant. It was apparent that he did not want to be the one to burst the kid's unrealistic dreams. But with an exasperated groan, he resolved to coaxing the blond boy with appeasing words. "I know you're an aspiring chef, Sanji... But let go of All Blue. It's just a myth. We were teasing you because we knew you were going to believe it, so just let it go." The tone of his last words were urging and persistent; so persuasive and certain, and it managed to crush the boy's certainty.
The scene shifted, and little by little the older chef transformed into an old man; skin dry to the bone, appearing feeble and malnourished.
"All Blue is real, Eggplant, don't let those fools convince you otherwise. I was out there. I've attained clues about All Blue's existence, so... if by any chance you survive, go for your dreams kid. Life is too short to live for any other passion that isn't your own." Although the man was on his last breath, his words were the most genuine; most powerful.
In the faint distance, he heard his own voice desperately calling out. "Old man? Old man? Wake up!" The young emaciated boy choked in the midst of his sentence, tears threatening to leak."Please don't die yet..." His pallid fingers grasped the remaining fabric of the old man's shirt. "Help! Help! Anybody! Help! We're on this island!" His pleas grew dimmer and weaker with each word as though he was walking away from the scene.
Then a silence prolonged, until it was broken off by a certain geezer.
"We did it eggplant. Baratie is no longer a dream, it's a reality." The geezer announced with a subtle hint of glee in his eyes.
The boy's blue orbs trailed along the letters of 'Baratie' written across the turquoise restaurant. A sense of overwhelming pride swelled in his chest when he recognized the difficulties that he and his old man had to overcome in order for this dream to become a reality. "Old man," he began. There was a small tug at the corners of his lip.
"I'm going to find All Blue..."
— «[=]» — «[=]» — «[=]» —
The luminescence of the sun enveloped the room with its curtain of light, splashing its vibrant glow of red, yellow, and orange on every object in reach, and unfortunately Sanji was within its wide range. His fingers webbed over his eyes as he squinted at the harsh glowing ray of the sun. In a trance, he intensely gazed at the single yellow splotch in the middle of the white wall.
Unconsciously his hands moved to rest against his stomach, and an intense relief washed over him when he felt beyond just skin and bones.
It certainly had been awhile since he had a dream relating to that incident, that traumatizing event which had provoked the thought of death recurrently in the past. He had hoped the length of time would have had an alleviating affect on his wounds, but the essence of grief spilling from his eyes clearly revealed how affected he still was.
The yellow spot in front of him blurred, and trying to calm himself he meditatively breathed in and out, released the tension that had constricted at the pit of his stomach.
"If you're awake, come downstairs. That's what your old man said."
The blonde boy jerked up in response to the stranger's gruff voice, and his eyes instantly darted to the man's shadowy figure leaning against the wooden door frame.
However, before making any direct eye contact, Sanji wiped his eyes in order to remove any sign of weaknesses away.
"I'll be down soon." Although that stoic tone was meant to dismiss the older man, his presence remained solidly in the room, not budging an inch from his slanted position. Sanji inquisitively glanced at the figure when a heavy silence lingered uncomfortably between them. He wondered if the man had anything else left to say.
The stranger's eyes were rather dampened with curiosity and his lips were tightly pursed.
"What the hell are you looking at?" Sanji gruffly asked, rather impulsively, partially because he did not like the fact that the man caught him on a humiliating circumstance— and bluntly staring him down for it.
No, he did not like that at all. This man was a stranger, not even Zeff caught him crying ever since that incident.
The stranger merely snorted in response before walking away. Sanji saw his shadow turn to the right before disappearing behind the door. The chime of his earrings and his footsteps echoed, and became gradually dimmer before they were gone.
— «[=]» — «[=]» — «[=]» —
There were no customers in the dining room because the heavy rain was still persistently pouring outside, so the blond boy strolled back to his room after breakfast, to intentionally avoid any further awkward interactions with the stranger.
Sanji focused on the droplets splashing and bouncing off of the red tin roof of Baratie. Something about the sound was calming, it somehow enveloped him and took him to the focal part of his being. His subconsciousness drew forward and his anxieties subsided to the back of his mind, a sudden awareness of his surroundings intensified, such as that light contact of his bony back touching the flat wall behind him, his hands resting comfortably on top of his knees, and air entering and leaving his lungs in a repetitious manner.
However, that moment of mental engrossment left him as fast as it came. It shattered when his concentration dissolved into thin air and it only left the boy feeling empty.
"Are you trying to meditate?"
Sanji's eyebrows twitched when he noticed the man leaning against the door frame again, the same position he held this morning. "What the fu-"
The green haired man rudely cut him in the midst of his sentence, "I was bored." Then like the intruding bastard he is, his eyes freely roamed around the dimly lit room.
Sanji was a bit embarrassed that the stranger was glimpsing at little pieces of himself, like the photographs of him and Zeff, private fragments of memories a stranger like him shouldn't be viewing. "What the hell! That doesn't mean you can come in and go out of my room as you please, you grass head!"
The man snorted, "You're so naggy for a kid, are you sure you're not some old man tapped in some child's body?"
"Are you sure you're not some dumb ass moss stuck in a human body?"
A flash of annoyance bypassed the man's features, and he made an attempt to grab the blond, who was almost half his size. "You little shit!" Even in this dim lighting, the outline of Sanji was rather clear, the fact that he had blond hair helped a great deal.
In this small confinement of a room, any attempt to escape from the bigger man was considerably futile, so it prompted the boy to fight back— like a cornered mouse would. Growing under a proficient martial artist had its advantages. Though he was beaten harshly on a daily basis he was also taught valuable fighting techniques that a normal kid his age would have no knowledge of, and Sanji only hoped that his raw methods would hold him up against a fully grown male. The stranger's hands swiped at empty air when Sanji managed to duck vertically beneath in the nick of time. Given this rare opportunity, the boy wasted no time to swipe his foot across the air to gain heavy momentum; and in order to keep a steady balance, his hands remained planted on the wooden floor. Adrenaline pumped in his veins, his emotions ran wild, he felt thrilled to test out his own skills to measure out his capacity; however, in the middle of his reflexive response, his leg was caught midair in an undignified position as he was upside down.
"Damn you! Let me go!" Sanji flailed, feeling humiliated.
The man was approximately 5'9", he was able to lift Sanji off the wooden floor completely.
"You're such an annoying brat," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. His occupied hand, which was currently clutching the boy's ankle, was held away from his body, because the boy was thrashing like a fish out of water. "Who taught you how to fight anyways?"
Strands of Sanji's hair hung freely in the air, and it revealed both of the boy's clear blue eyes.
From his frustration of being so helpless, Sanji growled under his breath, "Before asking me any stupid questions, let me go first, you bastard." The boy was experiencing minor dizzy spells for being held upside down.
"Cheeky little dartboard. You shouldn't be speaking so big after losing some pathetic fight,"
Sanji snorted in disbelief, "I don't think you should be speaking too big either. You just beat me 'cause I'm smaller than you. Give me few years, and I'll definitely be kicking your ass," he promised confidently. "Now let me down!"
The stranger clicked his tongue, then in a languid motion the bulky man almost glided across the room to drop Sanji, and the blond boy landed head first against a fluid surface, the weight of his body sent ripples across his waterbed.
"Annoying brat," the man grumbled under his breath.
Sanji's eyes sharply glared in the direction of the larger figure. "Why are you here anyways?" His voice came out in a rather brusque manner; in an uncharacteristically uncivil way. Actually, his foul mouth was something that had been passed down from Zeff, but it was still uncharacteristic of him to be so goddamn impolite to someone whom he just met.
The stranger tilted his head to his right so his fingers could run through his short choppy green hair more accessibly. "I saw you meditating when I was searching for the bathrooms, and I thought that you could use some help."
He was a man with little words, Sanji could tell.
Something clicked inside the boy's head, and from that sudden realization, a tiny smile tugged at his lips. "Isn't the bathroom right across from the guest room though? Did you get lost?"
An array of emotions bypassed the man's features, but the vivid streak of scarlet emerging across the man's visage was the most amusing out of all.
"You're blushing!" Sanji tauntingly remarked as he threw his head back to laugh his ass off.
"No I'm not, you stupid kid!" He retorted. "Stop laughing. It's not that funny."
"It's pretty funny. I mean, you got lost in a straight hallway!" Sanji tittered like some schoolboy. The edges of his crescent eyes were wrinkled in a manner where it was quite patent that he was enjoying himself.
The man simply observed, awkwardly. He wondered if all children were like him: moody and annoying.
But surprisingly, though his menacing features told another story, Zoro enjoyed the sound of laughter ringing in his eardrums. It relaxed him in a way not even meditating could, and maybe that's why he stayed.
— «[=]» — «[=]» — «[=]» —
"Zo-ro, pronounce it correctly, curly brow. It's Zoro." He emphasized his own name in order to drill it profoundly into the boy's head.
With a cheeky grin and a flash of his white teeth, Sanji repeated after the man. "Ma-ri-mo." His chin rested on top of his right palm comfortably as he sat with one leg crossed over the other "Did I get it right this time?" He asked for about the billionth time that night. He clearly enjoyed every moment of this.
Zoro groaned, "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"
With his large blue eyes which seemed to spill out innocence, he feigned confusion, "What do you mean? Doing what?" He even tilted his head to enlarge his melodramatic actions.
Zoro simply rolled his eyes as he leisurely leaned back, the waterbed beneath his dense weight sinking lower as a result. The kid was too outrageous for him, but it had been a while since he had last experienced such silliness. It somehow felt refreshing.
"Your name is Sanji, right?" He heard the name from the old chef before, but he wasn't too sure what he had heard exactly.
"Yeah..." The boy mumbled sleepily.
In the corner of Zoro's eyes, he was able to view the blond boy, who was in a fetal position in his overly large T-shirt. His thin arms were protectively wrapped around his legs and his eyes were peaceably closed. In that moment, he appeared to be nothing more than a small fragile child.
Although Zoro came inside earlier to help the boy meditate, he ended up having a foolish argument with the child.
A grown man fighting with a child, it really was idiotic, yet he had to chuckle to himself at the thought of how alike Sanji was to his friends. They would've really hit it off, especially him and Luffy.
He picked himself up from the bed and lightly landed on his feet, all done in a gentle motion to not disturb the boy. Then without looking back, Zoro quietly exited the room with a single thought in his head: Now, where's the bathroom?
— «[=]» — «[=]» — «[=]» —
"Oi, Luffy, stop wandering around, this is a serious matter! If we make a racket, we might really get killed. Eek.. I don't want to get killed! I think we should go back. This is really dangerous! What if the enemy ends up finding us? I think I have the "can't-get-into-this-building" disease! It's serious! I'm dying... Eck... Ergh..." In a dramatic fashion, the man plopped onto the ground. One hand clutching his chest, and the other clawing the air desperately.
And as always, everybody completely disregarded his melodramatic actions, walked right past his 'dying' form without a glance.
"Hey everyone, look!" Luffy pointed out with excitement, stretching his index finger out in front of him.
Zoro turned to see where the boy was pointing at and he instantly noticed the rows and rows of heavy, very authentic weapons laid out in front of him. From grenades to torpedoes, this place had it all. But of course, a bullet proof glass was there to shield them from any intruders, such as them.
"What the hell, why are there so many?"
The word 'many' was not quite accurate because the supply of weapons seemed endless, stretched out across the hall that he couldn't see an end to.
"Oi, let's get out of here. This is a very bad idea." Usopp's voice was hushed into a whisper, and he seemed shaken by fear— more than usual.
The raven haired boy, who wore his straw hat, smiled brightly with his teeth. "Come on Usopp, this is an adventure! A man's romance is his adventure, isn't that what Yasopp said?" Although sometimes he was a real pain in the ass, the way he spoke about his passion really inspired a lot of people.
The long nosed man stuck his bottom lip out to visually express his uncertainty on the matter. "My dad did say that, didn't he?" His eyes traveled from his friends to the place, then repeated the action until a flash of determination passed his eyes. "Fine, Luffy, but only for few minutes, then we're out of here. This place gives me the chills. I have a really bad feeling about this..."
Since his sniper friend always had premonition senses everywhere they went, Zoro did not think much on them.
The three of them walked down the long hallway with caution (not really). The fluorescent glow that emitted from the weaponry containers were almost blinding, but it was the only source of light in this pitch-black hallway, so Zoro was grateful for them.
As the two idiots ran ahead to gawk at the showcased weaponry, Zoro's sixth sense began to disrupt his senses, so he told his group in a hushed tone of voice, "Come on, let's keep going. I think a camera is secretly observing us."
— «[=]» — «[=]» — «[=]» —
"You can stay as long as you like, you know. I don't know what a soldier like you is doing out here, but there must be a reason, and I'm not one to pry into another man's life and his choices."
The boy's deep intuitive understanding was impressive but it clearly originated from this chef with the ridiculous braided mustache. "How did you know that I was with the army? I didn't think that it would be so obvious."
"Intuition, plus your clothes." The chef gruffly replied. "And it seems that I was right on the mark, brat."
Zoro cracked a smile upon his visage when he heard that name-calling. "Who are you calling a brat, old man? I'm much older than the kid you own, you know."
"He ain't my kid but he is a son of mine. I don't reckon you know what I'm talking about though." Zeff loosened the blue ascot that hung around his neck with his forefinger. "That kid is different." Absent of anything important to say, Zoro simply nodded in agreement. "Recently one of his teachers suggested to me that he needs to be psychoanalyzed for 'anger management.'" The old man chuckled with good humor, evidently amused. "That kid doesn't need any treatment, he just needs to live a life outside of this restaurant."
Zoro raised one of his eyebrows from this peculiar response. His eyes watched the old chef's movements carefully, who was raising his glass of white wine to his lips.
"I assume that you joined the army on your own, then?" The old man inquired.
Zoro wistfully stared at the alcohol bottle, really desiring to taste some 'Savignon Blanc' as it was labeled. He missed that familiar burn of liquid traveling down his system in one fluid motion. Though his favorite was something with a harsher impact, like rum or tequila, wine was good too. Hell, they were all alcohol, it didn't matter the least to him as long as he tasted it.
He took his eyes away from the label when he realized that the chef just inquisitively asked him a question.
"Yeah, I'm searching for a man at the moment."
When his eyes unconsciously trailed back to the wine glass, Zeff stood up with a heavy grunt. "I'll get you a glass, and I'll pretend that you're legal."
His leather shoe and the wooden peg tapped against the marble floor, and the sound reverberated and echoed against the slickly painted white walls.
— «[=]» — «[=]» — «[=]» —
"How in the hell did we get into this situation? Can anybody tell me?" The green haired swordsman angrily spoke with a sword clenched in between his teeth.
Usopp had his weapon, a green slingshot, out and ready, open to fire at any time, at any moment. He was quite the reliable guy during times like these. Even his usual cowardice disappeared without a trace from his expression, which only left a brave man behind.
"Zoro, you got lost, remember?"
The boy with a straw hat delightfully laughed at the comment. "Zoro is so stupid!" He then clapped like a seal, expressing how downright hilarious this situation was for him.
"I shouldn't be hearing that from you, Luffy!" Zoro barked at him before charging in like a bull, direct and concise, with his swords ready at hand.
The male figures, dressed in black suits, were much wiser than those who took impulsive acts against a swordsman. They patiently waited with guns drawn rather than panicking at the sight of Zoro. They waited with patience for their prey to come closer, which was the most authentic evidence that they were professionals— brutal killers— and not mere amateurs, and the thought of such sent a weird sensation down Zoro's gut. What was he so afraid of?
"Oi Zoro, don't just charge in!"
In his mind he saw a vision of the two heads beings cleanly and precisely cut off. His sharp blades slicing through their necks in a smooth motion as if he was cutting through the wind instead. But in his eyes, he merely saw minor cuts across their chests, shallow enough to barely draw ounces of blood. Brutality wasn't really his thing. As a swordsman, he believed in the policy of having absolute mercy against his opponents.
As the swordsman withdrew his three extravagant katanas, he venomously growled at the two men, "Now get out of my face before I sever you guys for real."
He then turned away from his enemies and slowly walked back to where his friends stood.
Perhaps that was a grave mistake. Perhaps he should have followed his instincts and acted merciless instead. But that dormant demon inside him did not make its entrance until he heard those two piercing gunshots reverberating in his eardrums.
All of his sanity and reason became lost when the two bullets ran straight through his friends' heads.