You can love this how ever you want, see or interpret it any way you want.

I do not own One Piece or the characters


It was solid, heavy, and a beautiful color of green that reminded him far too much of the Marimo's hair. A heavy sigh left his lips and he crushed out the dying ember to his cigarette and stood up to place the chest piece back onto the shelf and head off to make dinner for the crew, the ones that remained. A light chuckle left his lips as he pushed open the door to see the gloomy looks on everyone's face, including his own, and he headed up the stairs of the Thousand Sunny to reach his only spot of a slight bit of regret.

He had been cooking when 'it' happened. Cooking that one dish he and the crew vowed never to see or touch again. Tempura. Again he chuckled before he opened the door walking in straight towards the fridge for the meat he would make Luffy and the pasta he would create for the other crew members; the crew that survived. His hands worked without his brain, seasoning the meat, boiling water, creating homemade sauce for the pasta, setting the plates… it went on while his brain loomed on the metal plate and its beautiful color.

He jumped slightly as he sliced open his finger and he stared down at his own blood before he turned to the sink and washed it off quickly and wrapped it up in bandage Chopper kept in his kitchen for him in case these things happened. He was glad for it, he assumed, to be able to stop the bleeding and get back to work but he also felt horrible as he glanced every two seconds at his finger and he had only wished it bleed more than the lack of blood when he died.

He forced himself to remember the way he was annoyed by him, how he made a mess of everything, how he also made everyone laugh. It could have been Luffy or him, but instead it had to be their other Nakama, someone who had been with them for so long. Why? Because they never actually saw it happens.

Chopper had said it was an accident, something that no matter how hard they could have tried or foresaw it, would have been impossible to stop. A simple action of a wave hitting the ship had caused him his life. He had been cleaning, checking stock for the next island that was coming in the next few days, and he had been goofing off, his own stupid way of doing that.

He forced himself to stop as he sucked in enough air to force the tears down, "SHIT!" he shouted before he dropped to his knees and curled up into himself. He had been the closest to the idiot! He could have smelt it, heard the crash, and heard the silent scream as his lungs were filling up with blood from… from his own damn carelessness!

It was his fault that he was dead, his fault that no one could save their friend, his fault that he had been cooking and he had been lost in a difficult dish he was recently learning from their last island!

"I was making Tempura!" he spat out. "It isn't that hard to understand!" he felt like retorting himself, saying it was hard, it was a new recipe he was going to give the girls. He had no other choice but to make it excellent.

A hard rocking from the left made him glance up and he exhaled the breath he did not realize he held in his smoke filled lungs and he watched the air, cigarette smoke, and slowly his own woes leave. He and the crew knew it was impossible to save him. It had been his decision to go so far down the ship and isolate himself from the others after Nami bantered with him. It had been hilarious at that time but he knew in his heart she blamed herself more than he did.

"Nami swan didn't mean it, I couldn't hear him, Chopper couldn't save him, and we all lost a dear friend." He had been with Luffy and the others longer then he had… a Cook had been the last person their captain added to their ship before they ventured onto the grand line. He had been in so many conversations, arguments, and humorous events with that idiot that it was hard to believe that they wouldn't be there anymore.

"The grand line is a horrible place to lose Nakama." He said in a whisper before he finished his food and set them out and walked to the door and he opened it calling out to the crew, those who remained, that dinner was ready. They all scrambled in one by one, Luffy first, Nami, Robin, Frankie, Brooke, and then Chopper entered last. Sanji nodded as he closed the door and started putting some of the food onto a plate to hand to their last crew mate who wouldn't join them.

"I'll take this up to him, you can start eating but save some for me!" he said directly to Luffy and the boy grinned childishly and it also made him smile before he turned around and headed out the door and up to the crows nest where he had recently spent night and day in, he never came down except to shower and to use the bathroom. It was amazing really that he and the others had not started to get on his case about it but at the same time they all could understand.

It had been his own tools that helped kill their nakama and only because he agreed to let him use the room while he wasn't, he didn't have a use for it other than to store those tools. With a reluctant sigh he pulled open the door and clambered in before spotting the silhouette of the very man who, above the whole crew, was to blame for his death. A chemical reaction to a wet stone and a few doses of highly explosive powder was all you needed to cause a fire that had killed him where he sat working on his favorite things in his whole life.

"Oi, I brought you your food."

He nodded but his eyes stayed on the ocean. He really didn't have to blame himself, it had been an accident and unlucky chance his own weapon's tools had killed him. With a slightly pathetic sigh he set the plate of pasta down onto the floor in the far corner before he sat down next to him and grabbed the other man's shoulders for a rough and awkward hug, "Stop blaming yourself." They both sat frozen, neither one really wanting to move from a little comfort they felt in this weird position, and slowly the other arms wrapped around the cook's thin frame pulling him closer and he nuzzled his head into his shoulder.

Sanji frowned but slowly his stroked the others hair and he waited out the tears that started. He needed comfort and if he was the only one to give it then he didn't mind. Slowly he closed his eyes and memories slowly came to his attention.

Usopp had been asking Zoro a lot of questions, recently becoming attached to Zoro's side almost like his own swords. They both seemed to share a secret that had been bothering the entire crew. Sanji thought of it as a good way for the sniper to learn to be less cowardly; it worked to a degree.

Zoro had stayed behind after dinner or lunch at times; he always stared at Sanji while he worked on cleaning up what barely needed to be cleaned, with a somewhat interesting look etched on his face. It was hard for Sanji to work when he stayed behind due to the constant blush that crept up from nowhere onto his face.

Sanji had stood on watch that night and he was enjoying the feel of a summer island coming closer to them. It was amazing and it felt nostalgic, but in the end he threw those feelings away. He had been alarmed as he looked down to see the Marimo and their Sniper talking to each other and they looked down at something in Zoro's hands. He had been curious but when Zoro had smiled before saying something to Usopp it had been enough to quell those feelings. It had also bothered Sanji enough that he tried to forget what he had seen.

Usopp had been frantic on the summer island, Sanji had been lugged around for no obvious reason, and he had been asked what colors he had liked. He didn't quite understand the point in it but he quickly told him that any color other then green would work. He must have said or done something because Usopp had given him a strange look before grinning stating that green would work perfectly with the blue color he was going to buy later that day when he came back with Zoro. He had not understood the purpose of him coming only if Zoro was coming later, but when he heard Usopp muttering about how Zoro would love to see what he was making and the glint in his eye was enough for the cook to feel jealousy rushing threw his veins before he told the sniper he was leaving. Usopp never stopped him once he was given a color, one Sanji said he didn't like.

The next few days had been the worst for the crew due to the odd behavior from Zoro. He had slowly started laughing when Usopp said a few things and then they would glance at him. It had bothered him more than anything because he caught the look that lingered in Zoro's eyes. Interest. Interest in something that Sanji didn't know about.

"Sanji?" he snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at the bandanna on the man's head. "I… He asked me to…" blinking in confusion he waited for him to finish the sentence but he knew when he stopped talking he wouldn't finish for a while.

He closed his eyes again and then turned a little to look out the window at the now darkening sky. It was closer to night fall and he knew that he wouldn't be eating tonight due to how long he had left the kitchen. With a sigh he shifted when he felt the painful tension in his spine. The figure he was holding shifted with him before Sanji was behind him with his arms wrapped around his figure and his head resting on his shoulder with the same from the other.

"Better?" Sanji laughed lightly.

"Better." He sighed again before allowing his mind to relax and he began to think of how Usopp came to him. His eyes swirling slightly and he asked if he could have some booze. He had actually frightened Sanji before he was hounded by the cook for this new and very unusual behavior. He was told about a few problems he was having with Zoro. That they recently had fought over something that involved Nami. He didn't understand why the boy would take the bottle to this but what Usopp told him next was all that he needed to know. Usopp had messed something up and Zoro was extremely angry over it.

"Sanji, is it my fault?" Sanji snapped out of his thoughts again grunting a 'huh' to the one lying against him. "Is it my fault he's dead?" the voice was nearly lifeless and it showed how exhausted he was both mentally and physically.

"You didn't mean to." He cursed in his mind at how it came out. "You didn't know it would happen, none of us did." He again wanted to curse; he wasn't saying what needed to be said. He felt the vibration of laughter against his chest and the movement as his arms where pushed aside and he was slammed against the floor with the other man's body straddling his hips.


What pairing do you think it is?