So, how am I going to start this one? A while ago, maybe three months or so, I was scavenging the internet for fanfiction regarding my OTP in One Piece, SaNami, but after a while I didn't find any new ones. But no problem, eh? Be the change you want to see in this world! Thus I started writing my own, my second fanfiction in general, in German, mind you, and thought it was going to be a oneshot. Well, so much for that, three months later I'm still not freaking finished. And until the muse kisses me again, I decided to translate it into English and share it with you. Please, cut me some slack though, it's very average and, at times, a bit too angsty. Plus English is not my mother tongue and I'm a far cry from being a Shakespearean scholar. That said, I hope that you can force yourself to enjoy the first chapter. Cursive are the character's thoughts.

Disclaimer: One Piece doesn't belong to me. Which is a shame.

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Chapter I – Broken, damned and drained

"Cast your stone into the water now

And watch the ripples spread like poison

Under the gun, underneath

You'll feel slaughtered and betrayed"

Witchcraft – White Light Suicide

Can't believe that I really came here. It's like cutting my own flesh, some kinda shitty devil must've possessed me, forced me to endure this torture.

Despite these grim thoughts, the scenery Sanji was enjoying in this very moment was far from horrible. Not a single cloud shrouded the bluest sky imaginable and the sun shone in all its glory. He was sitting on a bench, quietly staring at the marvellous estate before him. Two wide floors, born from the finest architecture one could find this side of the Grandline, surrounded by pillars made of incredibly expensive marble.

The owner must've been financially gifted.

Also, the obvious addiction to perfection didn't seem to stop when it came to the encompassing garden, blooming in all the wonderful colours of spring, seamlessly becoming one with nature while still holding its own special place. At this very moment, a literal army of gardeners was working tirelessly to preserve the status quo, only adding one little piece to it: They were planting tangerine trees. Sanji of course knew where they came from.

Doesn't come of as a surprise, eh? She never settled for anything but the best., he thought.

He should've felt warm, sitting under the bright midday sun while wearing a custom tailored black smoking and, instead of his usual tie, a bow-tie made of silk. A few minutes ago, he had opened the jacket before sitting down to have a cigarette and contemplate his situation.

Look, even the shitty sun's giggling about the poor clown that is me. Goddamn shitty schadenfreude. So grossly incandescent, it seems that there's never going to be night-time again while I'm probably facing my darkest days here. Oh, l'ironie!, surprisingly enough though, he smiled. A tired and resignated smile, but nonetheless a smile. And the only thing that seemed to fit into his current mood. Fate had forced his hand when answering her invitation, fate and a whole lot of booze. How long has it been since the Straw Hats were forced to disband? How did it happen? He wasn't able to recall, mostly because he didn't want to. It's been a terrible time for all of them. He could still remember their former captain, Monkey D. Luffy, crying bitter tears of helplessness, vowing that they'll meet each other again to continue their adventures and the pursuit of their dreams.

All of them again, together. Those have been his words.

But nothing did ever come true. I should be the last person to be surprised by that, shouldn't I? That's what comes from living a life of making empty promises to each and every attractive woman under the sun. Promised 'em the moon and the stars, but still left with the first light of dawn. Even after the bonds of friendship were shattered, even when I wasn't forced to live as a fugitive anymore, I couldn't stop moving to new places, from island to island, from woman to woman.

The cigarette was finished and he slowly thought about moving, not wanting to risk a late arrival to the ceremony, but he couldn't be bothered with that right now. Thus, he ignited another one. A ritual of his own. The first draw from a fresh cigarette always breathed life back into his body and soul, sometimes literally. With a slight smile on his lips, he remembered shrugging off devastating damage done to his body just by smoking. But those days were gone, probably forever. Why fight anymore, for anything?

At least some of us have been able to .. finally be happy with their lot in life. Shouldn't I be happy for them?, but he wasn't able to force himself to feel good, not for them, not for anyone. It even seemed to him that an eternity had passed since he felt anything at all anyway.

From a strictly objective point of view, those past years had been good to him. He managed to gain a small fortune with his cooking and his name was first on the list of many a food connaisseur on the entire Grand Line and all the four Blues. No, not 'Black Leg' Sanji. And don't even bother with that whole Vinsmoke-thing. He was 'Sanji, protégé of Uke Mochi', the mythical goddess of food. Sanji couldn't even remember when it was that he dropped the 'Black Leg', but sometimes, when his mind drifted away, he was compelled to remember just how proud he had once been.

All the lives he - no, they - touched, all the tyrants they brought down, the marvellous and sorrowful moments they shared were connected to 'Black Leg'.

And maybe that was very the reason he had to get rid of it.

Absentmindedly, he gazed upon the estate, inclining his head from one side to the other, asking himself how many rooms this monster had anyway. And in how many of these rooms one lucky man received what and who he had been denied for so many years. He arrived an hour ago but had not yet taken any steps to introduce himself to the personnel or the owner.

Because he didn't know how he would react to seeing her again. Her beautiful copper-coloured hair .. I wonder how she wears it now. Still long? Maybe short again? Pinned-up maybe? Oh my.., her gentle and clever brown eyes, so deep that a man could drown himself in there, sometimes, especially when she was working on some kind of plan, looking sly, making her even more attractive. Her face as a whole, he was sure about that much, would still look like angels descended from the Heavens to sculpture it, their one flawless masterpiece walking amongst mere mortals. Only .. happy now, that she has arrived somewhere in her life after all the running, the fighting and falling of silent tears. No longer restless, no longer a fugitive, no longer burdened with fear about what would happen the next day.

Did they not have good times too? Even with the marines ever so close by, even with all the pirates that had a different understanding of that word than they had. At least they usually didn't have to go to bed with their stomachs empty.

But .. I guess I can understand her. These times left everyone of us scarred in more than one way, and some of them will never be able to heal .. but could it be that she had the worst lot of us all? At least I wasn't kidnapped and forced into marriage by that .. beast, Absalom. Yeah, I think I understand why she has chosen this way. Away from everything, conquering new frontiers., actually, he did want to walk the path of oblivion too.

Of course, he never thought about marriage. But after the end of the Straw Hats, he just wanted to forget everything, not willing to torture himself any more than he already did.

Before his thoughts could drift away again, he suddenly became aware of somebody entering his sphere of solitude.

"Marimo."

"Ero-cook."

A few seconds passed until they finally looked at each other and somehow both of them knew that it wasn't easy for the other one to be here. No matter how aloof they had tried to be when the bonds of friendship, nakamaship even, couldn't hold the crew together any longer, each and everyone of them was devastated. "Didn't expect to see you here, ero-cook.", the former pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro finally tried to start a real conversation, even though in his usual laconic manner.

"And I didn't expect that you'd make it in time before the ceremony ended, all the guests left and Winter Solstice.", was the obvious answer. The pirate hunter's bad sense of direction was the stuff of legends.

Sanji took a last draw of his cigarette and flung it away, pulling out another one while exhaling the smoke into the warm day.

"It's not like that you're very punctual yourself, mh? On your way here, did you have to cling to the last pieces of virility your startlingly small frame possesses?", surprisingly enough, the green-haired swordsman wore a suit himself. Not custom tailored, of course, but it was an actual suit. And it was even more surprising that this very guy, who usually couldn't care less about his appearance - as long as it was terrifying – seemed to have at least basic knowledge about the colours he could put on with that rather uncommon hair of his. Over a pale shirt, he wore a navy blue suit coat, complemented by trousers of the same colour. He didn't wear a tie though, but that didn't surprise Sanji in the least. The swordsman always went for a more casual look, but he could've done a lot worse.

"Actually, I saw you from a distance and it took me half the day igniting candles and having a hell of a lot of moments of silence for the poor, sodding drunkard that finished your attire.", both men looked at each other again and, surprisingly enough, both of them smiled the very same smile. For just one second, it seemed to both of them, the past was alive and well, new adventures and friends on their way.

"Jokes aside, I did not expect to see you ever again, ero-cook, here in the least of all places.", some seriousness found its way back into the conversation and both immediatly knew it, Sanjis mind unable to ignore it all. Maybe I wouldn't have come if I had received the invitation when I was sober. Maybe I would've just torn it apart to burn it and throw its ashes into the wind instead of thinking about all the good times we had for hours on end, weeping bitter tears just to accept it in the end, because I persuaded myself that I had to see her one last time.. How could I even think that some dreams are worth suffering, fighting for? Could've just stabbed myself right in the shitty chest, it'd amount to the same. What an idiot I am.., instead of replying with even one of these things, he just fell into a somber silence and for a second it seemed that not even the sun in all its glory and schadenfreude did not dare to touch him.

The first conversation after so many years it was, he didn't want to start it with lies.

More moments passed and the good mood had gone into the the realms of forgottenness.