Hi, here to serve you with yet another collection of Sanji angst one-shots that nobody asked for. I wanted to write a bit of our favorite cook's fucked up childhood. Most of it is only speculations and character studies of each of the Vinsmokes, though Oda has probably something else in mind, but here we go!
Please be warned that this work will obviously depict emotional and physical abuse, as well as spoilers for the recent chapters. Rated M to be safe.
Fate, destiny or just the course of events – the name you give to it doesn't have much significance, but it gave the royal family of the northern great sea four sons in the same day. Four identical little boys meant to be raised in the same manners and yet, each of them grew into different men. They were all given a number that put them in a peculiar order, as if the first one was the oldest and the last one the youngest.
For that, Yonji was the fourth son as he was deemed as the less experienced of the four boys.
It didn't mean, however, that Yonji was an idiotic child. Being part of the Vinsmokes lineage, none of them was stupid. It meant that Yonji was a bit more hesitant than his siblings, a bit slower to understand, always needing an authoritative figure to guide him and remind him what to do. Straighten up your back Yonji, don't put your elbows on the table Yonji, your grip on your sword is not strong enough Yonji, your brother has done wrong and needs a punishment Yonji.
It was small things, details that tutors and older siblings needed to remind him until those trivial things became a second nature, something that he would do without putting a thought into it.
It was not a tedious task as Yonji was an eager child, desirous to learn, to be a better son, to get attention and compliments for his achievements. Their father was not an expressive man, but Yonji could feel when he was proud of them, when they all lined up in the hall before dinner once a week, straightening their ties and backs under their father's scrutinizing gaze, trying to perceive if they had improved the way he wanted during said week. One could say that Yonji was trying too hard to please his parent, but himself didn't see it that way. Their father deserved powerful successors.
Sanji was different though.
Sanji and Yonji behaved like slightly older brother and slightly smaller brother despite the fact that they were the same age, only a few minutes apart. But Sanji was the one whispering in his ear to pay attention during the lessons, to be careful of his past mistakes so he won't make them again this time. Yonji always listened because he always had a need for someone to tell him and remind him over and over. Yet, he sometimes asked himself why Sanji didn't follow his own advice. He was the one getting constantly and harshly scolded because he wasn't behaving like a proper Vinsmoke child.
Many years later, Yonji would realize that Sanji was probably protecting him of some terrible and fearful hours of punishments because he was the one who knew best how it was. Not that it mattered. Sanji was long gone and it was his own fault. He should have listened, because Father knows best.
There was one memory of his brother that Yonji could get rid of though.
It was a cold night, the kind of cold that numerous layers of blankets could not make run away. So a five-year-old Yonji found himself wandering in the empty and dark corridors of the mansion when he should have been sleeping. But he was not worried, he had done great today, the look in Father's eyes had told him so. He spotted a faint dancing light under a doorstep, probably from a candle. Wasn't that the library? The maids wouldn't work there at this hour. Curious, Yonji pushed the door open.
What he saw was his brother, the number three on the back of his nightwear clearly in sight, struggling on the top of a wooden ladder to catch a book that seemed far to heavy for him to carry. He finally grabbed it with a small cry of triumph before hastily quieting himself, getting down on the stone floor and clutching the huge book like it was the biggest treasure he had ever obtained.
"Whatcha doing, Sanji?"
The third son was startled, releasing his grip on the book that fell on the floor with a muffled sound that was probably too loud for Sanji's liking. Speaking of Sanji, his brother was petrified, staring at his sibling with horror.
"Please, Yonji... Don't tell anyone, you didn't see a thing, promise me, okay?"
He was getting frantic, but Yonji was just curious. He had just calmly asked a question, why was Sanji so upset?
"What's the book about?"
"It's... Recipes."
"Like the poison lesson we had the other day?"
"No, it's like... Cooking recipes."
Sanji talked in an almost inaudible voice that Yonji had to get closer to hear him. Sanji stepped back, shaking and breathing too loudly.
"Yonji, please, don't tell Ichiji or Niji or Father or anyone!"
Yonji was fidgeting, twisting his fingers like he did when he was thinking real hard.
"I don't remember Father saying that cooking is a bad thing. And if we have this in the library, then it must not be a bad thing. So I won't tell!"
Sanji seemed surprised for a few seconds. Then hesitantly, he smiled, a big smile like Yonji had never seen on his brother's face and he jumped at him, hugging him and hugging wasn't really something that the Vinsmoke did so Yonji just made a confused face before putting his hands on his brother's shoulders and Sanji was happy for once, he looked like Reiju, not having his usual blank and hesitant look he had on his face during the lessons or in front of Father so it must have been a good thing to do, right? Sanji let him go, bending down to pick up the book again and opened it, showing Yonji a picture of an apple pie. Yonji had never seen him so excited.
"See this? Lately I've been sneaking into the kitchen and there's a cook there that is teaching me things. His name is Erik and he's super nice with me! He told me to read this book before teaching me!"
Days later, Yonji learned of his mistake and Sanji learned of his.
They all lined up in the hall in front of Father, like they usually did. He glanced at every single detail, like he usually did. He stopped at Sanji and that, was unusual.
"All of you, come with me."
He led them to the floor underneath the dinning hall. They were all silent, asking themselves what was going to happen, which one of them had done wrong. Yonji was the one behind as they were walking in order, but if they had walked side by side, he would have seen Sanji's eyes becoming more and more desperate with tears at each step, because he knew and recognized where they were heading.
Yonji didn't, which is why he was surprised when they entered the large kitchen where numerous cooks and maids were working, probably preparing the meal they were supposed to be eating at the moment. Their arrival wasn't expected, according to their dreadful expressions. Their father spoke up, everyone else lowering their eyes in respect. Or in fear.
"It has been brought to my attention that one of my sons has been visiting this place lately. One of you has been teaching him how to cook."
Disgust and disdain could be seen underneath the head of the family's mask, as if he could not even apprehend the concept of cooking being worthy enough of his rank.
"I will ask only once. Which one of you is at fault?"
Between Niji and Yonji, Sanji was trembling with silent tears, biting his lip so strongly that blood was tainting his teeth.
Then, Yonji spoke up.
"Father, Sanji told me of a cook named Erik."
Someone gasped, a kitchen tool fell on the floor. The king eyed his fourth son for a few seconds before turning around and Yonji could have sworn that he had seen the phantom of a proud smile on Father's face. He smiled in return, honored of such attention, a warm feeling settling in his chest.
He didn't notice Sanji's betrayed look and his baby blue eyes that could not stop the tears anymore.
"Whoever is called Erik, step up."
For a moment, no one moved, still starring at the floor. Then a maid pushed a slender and trembling man towards his king. Vinsmoke Judge let out a mocking chuckle.
"Yonji, come here."
Yonji approached his father, smiling with all his teeth, looking like any innocent child of his age. Father put a seemingly enormous hand on his small shoulders, pushing a dagger in his hand.
"It is time to show me what you have learned during your lessons," he said, and then with a harsh and scolding voice, "Sanji, I will not allow you to look away. Cooking is not a task worthy enough of a Vinsmoke. You will understand your position, boy."
Less than half an hour later, even though it had seemed much longer for Sanji, Yonji pushed his disobedient brother against the wall of a cold cell. Splatters of fresh blood covered the fourth sibling's hands and the third's face. Sanji was clutching his arms, curling up in a ball against the stone wall his brother had thrown him against. His eyes were wide, he was letting out small cries with a cracking voice, as if his mind was still in the kitchen, being told that he would never cook again, being the powerless witness of the murder of his only friend by his own brother, his brother that he protected and helped every day. He suddenly raised himself up, approached his brother, but falling back on his knees.
"Yonji, please, please, please..."
"Father said that cooking was bad. We just didn't know. Now you need to learn."
Yonji stepped out, closing the door behind him. Sanji looked physically struck then got up, ran and grabbed the bars of the cell.
"Yonji, don't leave me here, don't leave me alone, please! Please Yonji, let me out!"
His brother disappeared from his view.
Many floors above, in the usual dining room, Vinsmoke Judge congratulated his heirs.
"You have done well today, Yonji. Your brother does not follow the rules and does not understand things like you all do. From now on, you three will have to show him. If he cannot learn, he was simply not meant to be part of our family's legacy."
All three of them nodded, perfectly in sync. They didn't need to be told a second time. Just like Sanji used to warn him to pay attention, Yonji would make him understand.