Me: So uh...yeah. So soon, huh? I bet you guys are like "Whuuuut? AGAIN?" Yeah ^.^ I got an interesting idea.

Mid: We own nothing, not even a live plant T-T

Me: Poor Mr. Greenery.

Repressed

Nami sighed as the Sunny was hectically tore apart by a series of sharp blades and insanely strong limbs. She couldn't take anymore of these stupid fights; all Zoro did was walk past him for God's sake! The chef and swordsman continued their all out brawl as the captain headed over to the navigator, accidentally stepping into the crossfire. His rubbery leg was pulled and stretched into Sanji's Diable Jambe before the cook could kick at the swordsman, who was in the middle of his Onigiri. Nami took a very likely risk of dying and calmly stepped in between the two hell-bent on destroying each other, immediately stopping their attacks.

Though, Zoro's swords were at her neck and Sanji's captain covered leg floated by her head.

"Oi, cut it out already," the navigator hissed, steadying her trembling voice, "Get off the ship and restock."

Mutiple hearts flew out of Sanji's body at a glance of Nami's bikini, and a bit of blood seeped out his nostrils. "AS YOU WISH, NAMI-SWAAN," he bellowed, followed by many declarations of undying love. Zoro scoffed lightly, which only ignited the cook's fury once again. Luffy eventually untangled himself and desperately crawled towards Nami by the railings, his face holding nothing but concern and confusion. "Neh, Nami," he began, standing up and gaining the redhead's attention, "do they seem different to you?"

"Different? No, they're still the idiots they left as," she answered.

"No," the captain said urgently. Nami raised a slim eyebrow at his sudden seriousness in the situation. What was wrong with Luffy? Those two fought constantly and hated each other's guts, right? "It's...repressed," the captain claimed while intensely watching his cook and first mate. Nami still wasn't following what was being said. She didn't even know Luffy knew that word. Repressed how? As in they held back on their strength? "The way the fight, Nami. It's different. Two years ago, they'd do it to let off some steam and train. But now...look," Luffy pointed at the two giving it all they had into the attacks, dodges, and blocks they made; he could feel the hatred and anger flowing off of them. What had changed for them to act so violently towards one another? Nami noticed it to; it was similar to a change in wind, but with emotion. She felt something was off and wrong with this certain fight, no way was it them testing their improved strengths after being separated for so long.

They were going for blood.

"OI," Luffy shouted, his tone sharp and demanding. Sanji and Zoro immediately stopped, both thoroughly surprised but scowls hiding that fact. Luffy actually glared at them like they were a despicable enemy and turned away toward the gangplank. "Get off the ship and restock," he ordered bitterly, "And no more of that. If I see you guys fighting like that again, I'll throw you in the brig." Nami sweatdropped. They didn't have a brig, but apparently Sanji and Zoro got the point. Swords reluctantly put away and foot now on the ground, the two scowled fiercely one more time before exiting the Sunny, keeping a good distance from the other. Nami couldn't figure out what intensified the hate, but she wouldn't ask.

XVX

Sanji kicked Zoro's shin harshly as he carried heavy crates piled on even heavier boxes. The swordsman growled, almost dropping the boxes in order to strangle the bastard. "Shitty marimo, don't you dare drop any of them. You'll be starving otherwise," the blonde spat, blowing out a puff of smoke.

"You wouldn't let anyone starve. That's your weakness," Zoro bit back, sidestepping away from the next shin attack. Sanji growled and crushed his cigarette against the swordsman's coat sleeve, burning a hole through the fabric. Zoro willed himself not to lose control; Luffy's orders were specific. The captain could be awfully frightening when he wanted to be, and Zoro was definitely not trying to disappoint. Sanji may be a huge pain in the ass, but he's the cook, meaning he's needed. He's also technically nakama. Technically.

As they walked around the market in total silence, Zoro had a lot of time to think. He didn't use to hate Sanji, especially when he joined the crew. The blonde was an annoying, stubborn, sarcastic, egotistical smartass, but the swordsman loved it. Before the crew was separated, he and the chef would chat in the galley after everyone went to bed. They'd drink, laugh, and discuss on random topics like the next island they'd be approaching. No, Sanji wasn't always a jackass towards him. It wasn't something as girly as a crush, but Zoro would admit something was there at first. He had no clue what changed when they reunited in Sabaody, had no clue what impulsed him to want to tear the cook to shreds. Apparently Sanji felt the same way. Forever being a womanizer, Zoro could only imagine how he and Sanji would have ended up. Constantly fighting, best friends, or, dare he even think it, something a little more deeper? Perhaps something past nakamaship?

Light pressure on the top of his head snapped him out of his thoughts. Zoro glanced to the side to see the cook placing something in his hair. It felt small and possibly rectangular, so what could it had been...? "Why the fuck did you put your death sticks on my head?" Zoro hissed angrily. He didn't want to smell like tobacco, and the fact that the cook did it without permission, not that he would've given him it anyway, pissed him off more. Sanji shrugged, "Your hands are full. Now, shut up while I look for fresh fruit. If you're a good piece of kelp, you might get a snack." The swordsman bit back the growl forming in his throat. Damn asshole.

Searching through carts and bins, Sanji surveyed the freshness of whatever the hell he was buying. This island was very different from most; their food tasted heavenly, but had a strange appearance. The chef ate a baked potato in the shape of an asparagus earlier, and the possibilities of endless recipes he could make were astounding. He needed to take his time, to choose carefully, to-

"Oi, curly," Zoro's gruff voice broke his concentration, but he breathed deeply before lashing out.

"What."

The swordsman stomach grumbled loudly and filled with impatience, "I'll take that snack now."

"What're the magic words?"

"Feed me."

Sanji felt his vein twitch. Unappreciative jerk, wasn't he? Looking around the cart, his eyes settled on an eccentric yellow colored, oval fruit. Shaped like an apple, but probably tastes like a grape, Sanji thought. Without thinking, he grabbed it and placed a few belis in front of the vendor, who scolded him for having such grubby hands. The cook forcibly shoved the apple-look alike into a protesting Zoro's mouth, but the swordsman couldn't moved as much as he wanted to on account of the crates. "Mhmhph," Zoro muttered, somewhere along the lines of "dastard". Sanji smirked and went back to searching while Zoro stood there, yellowish apple lodged in his mouth and a pack of cigarettes dangerously hanging off his head. He groaned; he was sick of playing the crew's pack mule. Just because he could lift over his own weight didn't mean his damn arms wouldn't get tired after a while.

Zoro set the crates down, figuring that the cook wanted to take his sweet time picking out prissy food. It was always about presentation with him; why bother? Luffy would demolish it as soon as it touched the table. Zoro recalled asking him about it once two years ago, and he actually received a polite answer. No sarcasm, only normalcy. Why couldn't they talk like that to each other anymore? What the hell changed?! Sanji reached to take his cigarettes back, and Zoro didn't say anything at all like he would have. He simply took a large bite.

Then everything flashed a blinding white.