DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ONE PIECE OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS

Hello people!

It's been way too long… :S life has been quite hard recently. A lot of "head down and studying" going on.

This is the sequel to "A Five Pointed Star" (yeah, I know it's a bad title but this title makes up for it…).

I hope you enjoy it because I just had a brain storm today. I decided I was going to go headstrong for this sequel seeing as many people asked for it. I have a good plot coming up and hopefully it will be more realistic than the last one.

*****

Another carefully planned dinner gone cold, another stab to his heart. How many times had his other half done this in the last few days? He was starting to panic.

Sanji looked once more at the clock before throwing his fork back into his barely touched food. Even the broccoli seemed to protest by letting its branches fall limp. The cook ran his fingers through his hair before gripping a handful and pulling it.

'Arrrggh!' Sanji shouted before driving his foot into the support beam of the house. He didn't kick it hard enough for it to collapse but it certainly left a nasty dent. He turned and slid down his "punch-bag". The blonde man brought his knees up and spread them slightly before lighting a cigarette. He leant an arm on each knee and let a brimming tear rip down his face like a bald stark dagger.

Zoro was starting to become a blood-red ray in the spectrum of Sanji's life and he didn't know what was causing it.

*******

A week earlier

Waking up to see the face of an angel was always the most amazing thing in the world. Those blonde rays of light falling around his ears, turning him into the beautiful creature he was. The pale blue eyes set into his head, piercing straight into anything that couldn't get away from his alluring gaze. Maybe that's how I fell in love with him all those years ago. Being 25, I still got the feeling of standing at the tip of a very high cliff every time we made eye-contact; the adrenaline rushing through my veins like a rollercoaster stuck on its highest speed. Every time those eyes pierced me through and through, that surging feeling would lift me up and when they were absent for only a few hours, love-sickness would strike at its worst, depriving me of the only thing that made my life mean something.

I bent down and kissed his forehead lightly, loving how the soft skin would transform into horizontal lines when he frowned. I threw back the covers and welcomed the hot breeze flowing into the room from the open window. The middle of summer provided lots of comfort. The island was neither too hot nor too cold so certain activities were always taking place.

I got ready for my day out, slipping on my black suit-trousers, dark red shirt and my smart black shoes. Today was the day to collect money from Mr. Whitley. Giving out loans had to be one of the best and most rewarding jobs I had ever had. The interest was high and the deadlines were often broken which meant more money for us.

Money didn't bother me but Sanji did. His catering business was a hobby and his happiness was my satisfaction. If I wanted to be fairly satisfied, I wanted Sanji's hobby to keep flying so I thought supplying money would help it grown. Sanji was very happy so I was very satisfied but because he didn't do it for the money, I had to keep feeding his happiness.

Sanji woke up just before I was about to leave and walked into the kitchen with a severe case of bed-head. His underwear was skew-whiff and slightly twisted but I loved it.

'You going?' Sanji asked, leaning his head forward so his forehead pressed against my right shoulder.

I smiled and placed my hand on the back of his head.

'Yeah, Mr. Whitley's interest has doubled the original price. I think it's time to pay him a visit.' I said, looking into my lover's eyes as he stood up straight.

The kiss that took place then and there sealed our goodbye for the morning and a welcome home kiss was due later.

The waver Franky made everyone was very useful when getting to work. Its speed made it possible to get to the main island in less than two minutes where it would have wasted more than ten minutes of my valuable time.

When I reached land, I chained the waver to the dock and strolled off; hoping Mr. Whitely had the money.

His house was half eaten by wood mites and most of his windows were broken and boarded up. I put on a pair of dark sunglasses and knocked on his door, wondering if he had died. Life was cruel and hard but you had to suck it up nowadays.

The door opened and a little old man poked his head out the door. Once he spotted sight of me he tried to shut it but I stuck my foot in.

'Mr. Whitely, you can't hide from me every time I come.' I said, forcing myself through. His mangy dog ran up to me, but I stepped out the way and knocked him unconscious. I hadn't forgiven the little rat for what he had done last visit.

'What do you think you're doing? You can't just barge into my house and kill my dog!' The old man said, looking down at the rat-dog thing in shock.

'If you don't pay back your loan, the house and the dog will be mine anyway.' I said, 'And he's not dead.'

'Please! Give me more time! I've started work, I can pay in bits!' He replied.

'Your overall total will increase.'

'I know but-'

'Do you actually know how much you owe me?' I asked, shoving the dog to the side before walking into was I presumed was the kitchen.

'Fifty thousand?' He asked, twisting his rag-top in his hands sheepishly.

'No.'

'Hundred thousand?'

'No.'

He was silent. He began trembling and then shaking.

'H-how much?' He asked quietly. The floor became his only view; the white tiles beyond any clean-looking colour in this universe.

'I loaned you five hundred thousand two and a half years ago, Mr. Whitely. It's doubled now. You owe me one million beri.'

He shook his head.

I took out my chequebook and showed him the receipt.

He suddenly backed into the kitchen counter, grabbed the rusty breadknife from beside him and drove it straight through the front of his neck.

I didn't react in time.

He died.

I closed my eyes and sighed. Not that many people had killed themselves because of the money they owed me but when it did happen, it was the saddest thing in the world. At times like these, I wanted to go home to Sanji and forget about the unfortunate but I couldn't.

I walked out the house, leaving the door slightly open for the mangy dog to escape through, maybe to find someone that could help his master.

My mini Den Den Mushi started to ring, drawing me away from my thoughts.

'Zoro here. Speaking?'

'You're the guy that gives out money, right?'

'No.'

'Then who are you?'

'You're calling me and asking me who I am?

'Yeah, who are you?'

'I'm a guy who lends money and takes it back with a profit and interest price.'

'Oh, well I want a loan; a big one.'

'Are you going to pay it back?'

'Yeah, I'm a very wealthy man.'

'Why would you need money if you're rich?'

'Isn't it a bit unprofessional of you to ask?'

'This isn't a job so I can do what I want.'

'Whatever, as long as I don't have to answer.'

'Where can I meet you?'

'I can see you right now.'

'Then why call me?'

'I wanted to know if you were the guy before I walked up to a random stranger and asked him for money.'

I sighed and cut off, leaning against the old man's house.

'So what's a supposedly rich man like you doing in a slummy place like this?'

I turned around and looked at the man thoroughly. He didn't look like a rich bastard. Maybe he was coming into newfound wealth. He was maybe a few years older than me and wasn't wearing anything especially rich-looking. Dark hair and dark eyes; an average guy.

'I could ask you the same question.'

'But that's unprofessional.'

'What do I care? State your loan.'

'Not here, the people in the house-'

'Are dead. State your loan.'

'You killed them?'

I looked at this guy. He seemed to have liked the idea of me killing my clients.

'No, he killed himself. State your loan.'

'Sixty.'

'Thousand?'

'No.'

'Just sixty?'

'Million.'

I re-examined him in quiet shock.

'And how are you going to pay it back?'

'Keep your nose in your own chequebook.'

'Fine, you have 2 years to pay back sixty-five million beri.' I said, writing the cheque. My hand was shaking. If this guy was overdue, Sanji and I were in the money – we could retire.

'I only need 1 month.'

I frowned at him. Did he actually want to make this extremely hard for himself?

'What's your name?'

'Mr. John Bentley.'

*****

ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?

Is it less OOC?

It better be because I'm not changing it again.

Did you like it?

Are you wondering what happened to poor Sanji?

Well, don't think the plots boring, I haven't even started it yet.

The excitement starts next chapter.

For an update, you must get the answer to this riddle:

Zoro's favourite colour + Sanji's hair colour + Sanji's favourite colour = ?

Until next time my people!