It had been about a week, and Sanji had been still experiencing colors, though less strongly. He had gotten used to seeing colors around people on and off, and the crew knew the extent of what he was seeing and feeling under each circumstance. The one thing he lied about was the color he saw in Zoro; he told himself he didn't want to admit it because it would only give the swordsman another reason to think he was better than he really was. So instead, he had said that of course Zoro was a boring shade of green, like everything else about the man.

Fortunately, the colors no longer triggered headaches if there were too many of them at once. But there was still the problem of Sanji needing more quiet than he used to, purely to rest his mind and eyes when he had spent too long around noise. And that was why he ended up in his current situation.

At the moment, Sanji was leaning against the side of the Sunny with his back turned to the beach at which they were docked. The crew was on the beach playing some sort of game, besides the ladies who were working in their room and Zoro who was doing his sword exercises. Sanji had played a couple of the games with them, until he needed a break from all the commotion. He compared it to the need to step outside and get some fresh air after having been inside a stuffy room for too long; it wasn't painful to stay inside, but it was refreshing to take a minute out on occasion. Now, Sanji had been in this exact spot for about ten minutes, and Zoro had been less than five feet away from him the entire time, moving smoothly from position to position as he held his katana expertly. Zoro knew Sanji was watching, and Sanji knew Zoro knew, but for the first time in their lives, they were fine with just coexisting. It all came down to the fact that Sanji was too interested to pick a fight, and Zoro was simply passive and focused. At times like these, the blonde realized how many of the arguments the two of them seem to always have are caused by himself. Zoro never really had much motivation to make the first attack on Sanji, verbally or otherwise, but Sanji had always known what to say to get him to retaliate. And he usually did it. But not today, or the past week for that matter. Yes, of course they had fought, but not as much as they used to over every tiny thing.

What Sanji really was here for, along with taking a break from the rambunctious group on the beach, was to see Zoro's motions. It sounded creepy and weird, and even made Sanji uncomfortable when he thought about it too much, but it was true. The cook could watch every muscle in the other man's body move in a way that was of ripples over water; coordinated and fluid, one going smoothly into the other and following behind it gracefully. He occasionally saw the golden color swirl around for a brief second, corresponding with the movement Zoro made, then continuing on as though it had its own momentum. Something about it felt like it was reaching right through Sanji and pulling everything stressful and unpleasant straight out of him. Faint wind chimes, a gentle waterfall, the warm summer breeze.

Just as Zoro was going into his last set, Luffy's hands appeared by Sanji on the ship's railing, and the boy shot himself up onto the deck with a snap.

"Sanji! Usopp said there was probably some good food on this island- can we go into town and see!?" Luffy asked, red-pink. "Then if there's any meat you can buy it for us!"

Sanji laughed, "Sure, Luffy. I'll get a bag, then I'll be set to go. Have everyone come with us, it should be fun."

Luffy grinned, and ran off to gather everybody up.

The town was nice; a short walk through the trees behind the beach lead to the village, which rested just on top of a slight hill. Further back there were mountains, but the village didn't extend that far, and Sanji doubted anyone went back there for anything anyway, since the town seemed self-sufficient. There were little farms around the outskirts, and an impressive market towards the middle. The houses were cottage sized; not more than one floor, and definitely not well heated or cooled. Perhaps the weather was like today's all year round; warm and sunny with a slight breeze and some potential light rain. All in all, it was a much more homey village than many of the others they had seen since entering the Grand Line all those years ago. It was hard to believe such a thing even existed in a place like the New World.

Sanji had somehow ended up by himself, as everybody had split off to investigate their own areas of interest. He didn't mind though, as this island seemed to have a unique variety of herbs. A villager had told him, when he had inquired about some of the herbs on display at the market, that just around the left side of the mountain there was a man who collected them from the forrest and even grew his own sometimes. So, Sanji was on his way to find out more.

Approaching the mountain, he could see a little pillar of smoke coming from what he assumed was a tiny house by the shore. When it was in view, Sanji could see an older man in the window, chopping something and quietly humming a tune. He looked up and could see Sanji approaching, and seemed scared for a fraction of a second before disappearing from sight, leaving behind a fading grey silhouette.

That's odd, the cook thought to himself, I wonder what he was so scared of. Surely it wasn't Sanji who frightened the old man… Was it?

When he reached the door, Sanji knocked. After about a minute of not getting even a hint of response even though he knew that old guy was still inside, he pushed the door open anyway.

"Oi," Sanji spoke loudly enough to be heard easily, but made sure not to yell since the man was apparently already afraid. "Old man, are you still in here? I was told by someone in the village to ask you about herbs." Still no reply, and Sanji strode into the next room. As soon as he stepped foot on the wood of the floor by the fireplace, the floor creaked a little. Somehow, Sanji could tell it was hollow.

Placing his bag on the ground and laying flat on his stomach, he looked closely at the floor and tried to find a revealing separation between the boards that might indicate a hidden door. However, before he got too far in his scrutiny, the old man suddenly came out of nowhere and tried to bring a wooden club of some sort down over Sanji's head. Luckily Sanji was quick, even on the ground, and he pushed up with his arms, allowing him to swing his leg up and into the attacker's chest, knocking him back. The man landed on the ground with a grunt, and Sanji smoothly stood up and walked over to where he had landed.

"What are you doing," Sanji questioned him without any sort of threat in his voice.

"I- I was-" The old man stammered his reply in mustard yellow. It was easy for Sanji to tell he was afraid, and it was interesting for him to visually see the difference between the sunshine yellow of happiness and this yellow of fear; this one was much darker, and almost had a brown tint to it, making it much more uncomfortable and feeling thicker.

Sanji offered his hand to the man, who initially flinched as though he were about to be hit. After a moment of consideration, the old man tentatively reached out to take the hand extended to him. When he was back on his feet, the man apologized, "I am very sorry, I thought you were here to steal from me."

The cook raised an eyebrow, and looked at the man with a questioning gaze. "Why would I do that?"

The old man looked down at the dirt on his floor and said, "People usually come and steal from me at least once a week."

Sanji's jaw dropped, "Once a week! Are the herbs that special?"

The man nodded sagely, "Ah, but the problem is, the people who come take them aren't people who can use them. As far as anyone knows, I am the only one who can."

Sanji frowned, "Is that supposed to be a challenge? I can cook with anything, so I'm sure some plants wouldn't be impossible to-" He was cut off as the man began to laugh.

"Oh, no," the old dude replied happily, "I'm not talking about my unique cooking herbs and spices. There are much rarer ones in my collection."

The blonde stared, unimpressed, at the man. "Care to explain?"

All hints of reservation gone, the man jumped up happily, and sauntered over to the floor that Sanji suspected might be hiding something. Lifting a piece of the floorboard about the one square foot, he retrieved a box. From this box he pulled a small pouch out from inside a can. Sanji personally felt it was a little over protected, but apparently the dude got robbed purely for these herbs at least once a week, so he couldn't judge. The elder gestured to the table in his kitchen, and they both took a seat as the man poured some of the contents out to be observed.

"I've never sold these before," he said as though it were a secret, "but for you I can make a very special exception and give you half the bag for 100,000 beri."

Sanji tasted a stale and partially sour flavor in his mouth that he had come to associate with lies, and rolled his eyes at the absurd offer.

"Don't even try it, old man," he laughed. "Just tell me what these things do."

The man lost the appearance of his facade in a small flash of blue, and sat a little straighter. With the pride he had left, he told Sanji, "You see, these herbs only grow on this exact island, and my family has used it for many years in order to continue reading the prophecies."

Sanji didn't really know what to say to that. As far as prophecies go, Sanji had never heard one that he knew to eventually come true. He didn't consider himself a non-believer, but he could say that he had definitely never been presented with a reason to believe it at all.

Sensing his doubt, the man continued, "The people in the village on the other side of the mountain know this, and they know I will only reveal the prophecies of my own town. This is why they come to steal from me, thinking it will allow them to see their own futures," he concluded, shaking his head disapprovingly. "They are foolish."

Sanji sighed lightly and rubbed his forehead. "Ok, so you claim these herbs can be used to help you get some sort of messages about the future," his blue eye met the older ones, and the elder nodded. "Then," Sanji continued, "great. But at the same time, prophecies are just that until they actually happen. And I'm guessing they have yet to prove themselves."

The old man got a little bit defensive, and he declared, "Doubt as much as you like, young man. But know this: Since the beginning of this island's habitation, my family has made over a thousand predictions."

Sanji was about to point out that the number didn't really mean anything in relation to their reliability, but he was cut off just as he opened his mouth.

"And only one has yet to come true."

Sanji's eyes widened as he shot up straight in his seat. 99.9% accuracy! There was no way. Even if it was a real thing, it had to have more flaws than that. He sat, stunned, and waited for the sour-stale taste of a lie to pass over his tongue.

It never did.

A/N:

So this is kind of where I wanted to go with this, a little bit of a mix of action, keeping the idea of this strange version of synesthesia, and also getting some development in. And yes, if any of you are wondering, I do realize that this isn't an accurate representation of the actual condition of people who have synesthesia. It is just fiction, after all.

I'm so impressed by you all, and how many people have viewed my story thus far! I absolutely love it, and all of you, thanks very much :)

On top of that, definitely recommend things to me if you like- either to wright or read. Message me, be social with me, complain at me, tell me a fandom joke, anything.

Stay golden

~Z