Author's foreword: This chapter contains some explicit/M-rated content. Additionally, thank you to WulfyFang3 and Lost Green TIger for my first reviews ! I really appreciate it :)
Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue ridge mountains, Shenandoah river
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia
Mountain mamma, take me home
Country roads
All my memories, gather round her
Modest lady, stranger to blue water
Dark and dusty, painted on the sky
Misty taste of moonshine, teardrop in my eye
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia
Mountain mamma, take me home
Country roads
- 1971 - John Denver
May 1971 - Chisai Shima Town - Sanji's Apartment
Sanji was lying in bed, eyes fully open wondering what time it was. He couldn't make out much detail and his curtains which were drawn closed only made his apartment that much darker. Sanji felt almost like a giddy teenager going on a first date with their crush when his alarm finally shrieked its morning salute. Sanji swung his long legs out of the bed which, being only a mattress, was very low to the floor. He almost immediately dropped his boxers on the floor and wandered through the dark apartment to start his morning ritual which always began with a nice hot shower.
After Sanji finished the rest of his morning routine, he packed up the dessert he had made the day before and checked his reflection briefly in the mirror by his front door. At school, Sanji typically wore more formal clothing and suits, but today he was dressed casually. He didn't want to ruin a perfectly good suit on the wild side of the island. Sanji wore a pair of faded blue jeans and a white button-down shirt, the cuffs of which were rolled halfway up his forearms. His feet were clad with an old pair of Chuck Taylors. Pleased with himself Sanji animatedly went to retrieve his rarely used bike from the storage shed at the back of the small apartment courtyard. With Zoro's directions in hand, Sanji set off just as the sky turned pink and purple from the rising sun.
Sanji had been outside the edge of Shisai Shima Town for nearly fifteen minutes now, pedalling relatively fast up the steadily inclining road as he made his way further inland. The air felt heavy, and the fragrance of grass, the forest, and the ocean enveloped Sanji's senses, subconsciously letting him know that he was moving further away from civilization and into the wild. After another twenty minutes of pedalling, Sanji was starting to feel a bit winded and wondered how much further the house could possibly be. He stopped his bike briefly to check Zoro's directions.
Pass the large intersection, keep riding till you hit a dirt road. Follow the dirt road through the woods until you reach the field. Take the left fork in the road.
Sanji went on his way, and soon enough emerged from the dense greenery of the forest to be bathed in light. As Zoro's note explained there was indeed a field and a fork in the road, but it did not do justice to what was actually there. The field was a sea of brilliant blue Nemophila flowers gently lilting in the breeze. It was breathtaking, and Sanji couldn't help but stop and admire the vast field. After taking the time to properly admire the Nemophila, Sanji went on his way, taking the left fork in the road which wound around the field, and on the other side of it stood a small traditional Japanese house. At first, Sanji didn't realize this was Zoro's home, flipping over the sheet for further directions and finding it blank. As he came closer, he realized it could be no one else's home, Zoro's bike leaning on the side of the house as irrefutable proof. The house was old, the roof tiles were faded, and a few were cracked, the wooden steps slightly splintered where they had been trodded on most heavily. The interior shoji partitions were open to reveal a small living area, empty save for a small round table low to the floor surrounded by two flat cushions, and a light fixture which hung from the ceiling. Light flooded halfway into the room. Sanji arrived, walking up the steps that creaked slightly and standing awkwardly in between the heavy wooden doors that separated the outside from the corridor that wrapped around the entire house, unsure of what to do as Zoro was nowhere to be seen.
Sanji peaked his head further in before venturing a stammered,
"Hello ?"
After a minute of silence, Sanji tried again this time louder.
"Hello, Zoro ?"
Still no answer.
At this point, Sanji had had enough and started venturing into the house. The living space was very sparsely furnished, and Sanji decided not to venture in further, instead choosing to retreat outside and circle to the back of the house which faced the Nemophila field.
Zoro was sitting, leaning against a wood beam that supported the home's outer corridor and eaves, one leg crossed underneath the other which dangled over the edge of the hallway. He was fast asleep, snoring lightly, arms crossed loosely across his chest. His face looked very peaceful. Sanji approached, knocking into a small rock, stubbing his toe. He yelped briefly and bent down to check his foot.
"Do you always hurt yourself when someone is sleeping nearby or is it just with me ?"
Sanji looked up to see Zoro smiling still leaning against the beam, looking as relaxed as he could be.
Sanji smiled, standing back up.
"Maybe you're just bad luck." Sanji teased.
Zoro patted the worn wood next to him, inviting Sanji to sit down. Sanji obliged, sitting down lightly next to Zoro, just close enough so that when he braced himself with his arms, his pinky finger grazed Zoro's. Sanji quickly retracted his hand, Zoro noticing the speed with which Sanji retreated from the physical contact.
"So, you find your way here okay? Didn't take you too long ?" Zoro enquired.
"I didn't realize your home was so far from town. But what a view you have..." Sanji trailed off, eyes fixed on the gently swaying blue flowers.
"Yeah, beautiful isn't it," Zoro said, but he wasn't looking at the field; instead he was looking straight at Sanji.
"When I saw you at school on the first day, I thought your blue eyes were just as beautiful as the Nemophila," Zoro remarked, still looking at Sanji who now had a look of surprise in his impossibly blue eyes. Colour flushed his cheeks and tinged the tops of his ears a lovely shade of pink.
Sanji abruptly cut off Zoro's intense gaze, returning his attention to the Nemophila.
"When I introduced myself you barely said a word," Sanji said quietly.
"I was just surprised by you, that's all. You don't exactly look like everyone else..." Zoro trailed off, also turning his gaze outward to the island.
Sanji laughed at this point, surprising Zoro a little, his one good eye widening a little.
"You don't exactly blend in yourself Marimo." Sanji chuckled.
Zoro's hand went to his eye, lingering just above his scar but not quite touching it.
"Oh, no I didn't mean that so much as your hair, and just, well you have a very intimidating physique," Sanji explained.
Zoro simply nodded.
"My mother was French. That's why I look like this," Sanji explained, fingering a lock of blonde hair as if to further prove his point.
"Oh, I see."
"What is your heritage, there's no way you' re full Japanese yourself," Sanji asked curiously.
Zoro simply shrugged his shoulders.
"I never knew my parents, so I don't know."
Sanji didn't really know how to answer, so he simply decided to get up and finally start the tour he had promised to take his tanned colleague on.
"Well, there's a lot for us to see. So why don't we get going?" Sanji suggested.
Zoro stood as well, stretching his limbs and back like a giant cat just waking from a long nap in the sun.
"Sure," he said before pointing at the bag Sanji had left on the ground.
"Do you want to take that and the rest of your things inside?"
Sanji nodded, going to pick up the bag, and the two men circled to the front of the house where Sanji's bike and the few other things he'd brought with him waited.
"These need to be refrigerated," Sanji said waving the bag containing the pastries he had made the day before.
Zoro ushered Sanji into the house, making his way to the kitchen.
It seemed every room in the house Sanji had seen so far was covered with tatami. The kitchen which resided at the back of the house, however, had a wooden floor and a tiled counter. A square wooden table with two chairs occupied a corner of the kitchen, the storm shutters open, letting light bathe the room. An old fridge dating from the 1950s hummed loudly on the other side of the kitchen, it's faded red colour mismatched to the cream-coloured tile of the countertop. A small sink and dish rack occupied part of the counter space, and some oranges sat in a small bowl a little further down from the dish rack. The final component of the kitchen was the small gas burning stovetop embedded into the counter, a blackened tea kettle sitting on top of it.
Zoro took the pastry box from Sanji and placed them carefully in the fridge.
"Can I offer you a drink of water or some tea before we leave?" Zoro asked.
"A glass of water would be great, thanks."
Zoro filled a glass with tap water that Sanji gratefully accepted and after a few minutes of chatting, the two men went on their way, Zoro closing the storm shutters, the narrow corridor that wrapped around the house now dark. Taking their bikes the two men departed.
Sanji suggested they go to the coast to walk along the beach and the cliffs above them. It took them nearly an hour to reach the beach, and both were hot and tired by the time they got there. Zoro almost immediately abandoned his bike, and rolling up his jeans above the knee, went to cool off, sticking his feet and calves into the cold ocean.
"Ahh, that's the stuff!" he exclaimed. "Sanji, come join me!" he called to the blonde man who was carefully leaning his bike against a tree on the shore.
"I'm coming!" he called back as he unlaced his shoes. Sanji watched as Zoro, with almost childlike glee, tramped through the shallow water, and gave a small chuckle to himself.
Like Zoro, Sanji rolled up his jeans and went to the water, cautiously testing it with his toe. The water was freezing.
"How are you not cold ?!" Sanji exclaimed, backing away as a wave threatened to get his feet wet.
"I am cold. But it feels nice anyway. I was too hot before." Zoro said simply.
Sanji shook his head, marvelling at the simple logic the other man used to justify his actions.
Sanji took refuge further away from the water, sitting on the sand and revelling in the brief peaks of sun that appeared through the now overcast sky. While it had been sunny earlier, now the sky started to turn a bluish shade of grey, and the air felt even thicker than before. A few more minutes passed before Zoro joined Sanji in the sand.
"Looks like it might rain soon. Want to head back now?" Zoro proposed.
"In a few minutes. I haven't been to the beach in so long. I didn't realize how much I missed it... My mother used to take me here when I was little."
The two men sat in comfortable silence for a couple more minutes before slowly getting their things in order and leaving. As they biked they talked a little, Sanji occasionally pointing out certain plants or animal, or making little comments on the island in general, Zoro remaining quiet for the most part.
When Zoro and Sanji were about ten minutes away from Zoro's home the rain started. It was light at first, but after two or three minutes the rain intensified, fat, cold drops falling to the earth, muddying the dirt road the men biked on. Another two minutes later the deluge was so intense that Zoro and Sanji had dismounted and were running towards the house, now barely visible in the torrential downpour.
As they finally made their way up the steps of the house, both were soaked to the bone and laughing hysterically as they stood in the dark corridor, puddles forming at their feet.
After a minute Sanji sneezed and started to shiver a little. Zoro pulled off his wet shoes.
"Take off your clothes and shoes, you'll catch a cold if you stay like that. I'll give you some of my stuff to wear for now."
Sanji nodded and went to undo his shoes, and then looking up he saw Zoro pulling off his shirt. The green haired man was a perfect specimen, his tanned body perfectly muscular, nothing soft at all. A huge scar going from his left shoulder to his right hip stood out noticeably against Zoro's skin, and many other smaller scars were scattered like constellations across the tanned skin.
Sanji marvelled at the man's physique and many battle scars just a little too long before looking down again to deal with his one remaining shoe. Sanji then unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, the chilly air really hitting him now.
Zoro at this point had also removed his pants and was gathering up the wet clothing into his arms.
"Let me take your stuff for you. Set it to dry." Zoro extended his hand for Sanji's clothes, who still blushing, removed his own jeans and handed them along with his shirt and shoes to Zoro.
Sanji couldn't help but watch Zoro disappear into the dark house, his sinewy body reminiscent of a Michelangelo painting.
A minute later Zoro returned with a towel and spare change of clothes for Sanji, his own frame still dripping wet.
"Here. You can change here, or in the bathroom, over there if you'd prefer." Zoro said as he went to flip on the light switch to the living room and pointing out a door at the back of the room.
Sanji thanked him and made his way to the bathroom. The wet clothes were hanging on a drying rack which was placed above the drain in the tiled floor. Sanji dried off and changed into the clothes. The white t-shirt was too big and long, as were the boxers and shorts, but they were warm and clean.
Sanji stepped out of the bathroom to find Zoro similarly attired, a towel hanging around his neck, sitting on a cushion, legs haphazardly arranged under the low table, two hot cups of tea set on the table. Sanji sat opposite the muscular man who pushed the tea closer to him.
"Thanks," Sanji said cupping the tea between his hands, warming his cold fingers.
Zoro nodded taking a sip of his own tea.
Sanji had some tea himself and looked at Zoro. The shirt he wore was not baggy but clung to the man's biceps and chest. Sanji felt a little envious of the man, and something else he couldn't quite identify, or admit to himself just yet.
As they sat quietly, the rain pounded on the roof in a steady pattering rhythm. Zoro rubbed his still damp hair even more.
"You don't like the rain much do you?" Sanji enquired.
"No, I don't. In the summer it's fine but, I just don't like it that much." Zoro explained.
Sanji smiled.
"I love the rain. It's so peaceful. And afterwards, everything is renewed." Sanji said with a melancholy tone. "I spent the first six years of my life in the north of France. It rained often, so I guess it reminds me of that time."
"Do you speak French?" Zoro asked.
"But of course. Shall I recite you a poem?" Sanji said, his eyes shining. He rarely got the chance to speak French anymore.
Zoro seeing the gleam in Sanji's eyes could not refuse.
"Please, go ahead," he encouraged.
Il pleure dans mon cœur
Comme il pleut sur la ville ;
Quelle est cette langueur
Qui pénètre mon cœur ?
O bruit doux de la pluie
Par terre et sur les toits !
Pour un cœur qui s'ennuie,
O le chant de la pluie !
Il pleure sans raison
Dans ce cœur qui s'écœure.
Quoi ! nulle trahison ?
Ce deuil est sans raison.
C'est bien la pire peine
De ne savoir pourquoi
Sans amour et sans haine
Mon cœur a tant de peine.
Sanji finished the poem, nearly whispering. He hadn't recited that poem since before his mother had died.
Looking up from his tea, Sanji saw something he hadn't been expecting. Zoro was looking at him with such a sad eye, so despaired Sanji felt his heart break momentarily. Then Zoro reached across the small table, his dark and terribly sad eye still looking into Sanji's own, his large hands coming to cup the sides of Sanji's face, his calloused thumbs wiping away the tears Sanji hadn't even realized were trickling down his face.
A floodgate had been opened in Sanji, and he could not stop crying, silent tears falling onto the wooden table. Zoro, unsure of what to do next stood and went to sit next to Sanji, grabbing one of Sanji's hand in his and squeezing.
"It's okay," he said softly, "you're okay. Don't cry."
After a few minutes, the tears subsided, and Sanji felt ashamed for crying in front of anyone, let alone Zoro.
"Are you alright?" Zoro asked quietly.
Sanji nodded.
"Yes, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. You don't have to apologize… That poem was really beautiful."
Sanji gave Zoro a little smile.
"My mother taught me that poem. I haven't recited it since before she passed away," Sanji explained.
Zoro was still holding Sanji's hand and gave it a little squeeze in sympathy. Sanji smiled.
"Thank you for being so patient with me."
"Don't worry about it. I understand."
After sitting hand in hand for a while longer, Sanji stood, Zoro releasing his hand in the process.
"How about we eat those pastries, the rain doesn't seem to be letting up any time soon," Sanji suggested, just a bit too brightly to be believable.
Zoro nodded and stood, leading the way to the kitchen, and after plating the two Mille-feuilles, set them down on the kitchen table.
"Would you like some wine?" Zoro proposed, holding up the bottle he had purchased.
"Yes, that would be lovely." Sanji acquiesced.
"I don't have any wine glasses though…"
"That's fine."
After pouring two generous glasses the two men tucked into the sweet treat, and Zoro had to admit, despite not being the fondest of sweets, he enjoyed the delicate pastry and wine. Sanji meanwhile appreciated the effort Zoro had clearly gone through in buying a bottle of wine, even though it absolutely did not complement the dessert they were eating. Slowly the conversation became more natural and pleasant, no longer having the undercurrent of sadness it had had earlier. The conversation quickly shifted towards teaching and school and the two high school teachers revelled in discussing the craziness that teenage hormones brought about in their students.
"Have you talked to Principle Hayashida about the Kendo club yet?" Sanji asked as the conversation shifted to extracurricular activities.
"Yes, I did yesterday. I just have to order the equipment, fill out some forms and send home permission slips. The equipment will take some time to get here, but other than that, the club activities should start pretty soon."
"That's good. I'll come by to watch. I'm curious to see what all the hype about you was." Sanji said teasingly.
"Come by any time. You are always welcome."
Zoro flashed Sanji a genuine smile, making the blonde man blush a little, looking down at his half-finished glass of wine.
With the rain still showing no signs of stopping, Sanji suggested they play Shogi, having spotted a board earlier in the day. Zoro agreed and soon they started playing, Sanji pouring himself another glass of wine while Zoro switched to Sake, a vintage he much preferred. By the time early evening rolled around both men, somewhat drunk, were arguing away amicably about this and that. At the moment they were discussing which kind of alcohol was best.
"Wine is clearly better, it has complex flavors, and so many different kinds, Sake is simply boring next to it. Only good for getting drunk," Sanji argued.
Zoro rolled his eyes.
"You and your wine, so pretentious. If I wanted to drink something nice, I'd drink juice, but if I want to get drunk I'm going to drink Sake, not grape juice that's gone bad," Zoro countered.
This time Sanji rolled his eyes.
"How unrefined."
"Please, you know you wouldn't have me any other way," Zoro teased, but there was something carnal behind the words and smile he flashed Sanji who shivered ever so slightly at the intense look in Zoro's eye. The two men held each others' gazes for a while when Sanji's stomach interrupted, growling in protest.
Zoro stood from the spot in the living room he'd been leaning against.
"I guess I should make us some food. You must be hungry."
Sanji stood as well.
"I'll help," he offered.
"No, no, you're my guest."
"Alright," Sanji said, giving up.
With that Zoro vanished from the living room leaving Sanji to his own devices. Sanji fiddled with the Shogi pieces for a while and closed his eyes for a brief nap, waking up 10 minutes later when the enticing smell of food wafted through the small house. He stretched and groggily made his way to the kitchen where Zoro was just starting to lay out the meal on the table.
"Hey, I was just about to come get you," Zoro smiled. "Have a seat."
Sanji did as he was told and waited to be served.
Zoro placed chopsticks, tea, a bowl of rice and miso soup, grilled fish, tsukemono, and cucumber salad in front of Sanji before doing the same for himself.
"Itadakimasu," both men said before digging in.
Sanji was surprised by how well Zoro could cook. The foods he had prepared, while not the most complex, were cooked properly and well seasoned with obvious personal touches to each dish apparent.
"This is really good!" Sanji complemented.
"Thank you. I learned how to cook when I was young, so I've had a lot of time to practice." Zoro beamed, teeth and all.
The two teachers continued the rest of their meal in relative silence, enjoying the food and the sound of the rain and wind outside. By the time they had finished doing the dishes, the rain had died down to a light drizzle and it was pitch black outside.
"Why don't you stay the night. It's not safe to bike home in the dark and with the roads all muddy," Zoro suggested as he dried off the last of the dishes, putting them away in the wooden cabinets above the counter.
"That sounds like a plan," Sanji agreed. There was no way he was venturing out into an area he knew little about in the dark.
"Shall I draw a bath? You must be tired," Zoro enquired when he noticed Sanji rolling his neck a little.
"That would be great, thank you," Sanji said, for once appreciative of the Japanese tradition of the nightly bathing.
"I'll go prepare it then," Zoro said, grabbing a flashlight from on top of the fridge and heading towards the back of the house. The man then put on a pair of thick black rubber boots and went outside.
Sanji was confused for a moment before he remembered that the tub he had seen was a traditional Japanese soaking tub that was heated by a wood fire from the outside of the home.
Sanji went after Zoro to insist that a bath wasn't worth this much trouble, but Zoro was already outside, flashlight in one hand and wood in the other which he tossed into the stone furnace. He peaked his head into the house to find Sanji anxiously wringing his hands.
"Hey, why don't you go fill the tub with water, that way it'll heat up sooner. You can wash up normally as well. There are towels in the cupboard." Zoro instructed.
Sanji simply nodded and went to do as he was told, filling the tub with cold water and closing the lid to wait while it heated up. Then he stripped down and sat down on the little stool designated for washing, turning on the showerhead which quickly heated up to a hot spray. Sanji scrubbed himself down thoroughly and once he was done realized he probably should have waited a bit longer as the bath probably wasn't hot enough yet. However, upon checking the bath, when the lid was raised steam rose up from it and the water was a perfect temperature. Sanji got in and sighed contentedly. After a few minutes Sanji could feel the knots in his neck and back dissipate as his muscles relaxed. Sanji blissfully started to drift, letting his mind wander when he heard a slight knock on the bathroom door.
"All settled in there?" Zoro's muffled voice came through.
"Yes, thank you. This is wonderful. I'll only be in a few more minutes then it's all yours."
Zoro's deep muffled laugh came from the other side of the door.
"Sounds good."
A few minutes later Sanji vacated the bath, putting the lid back on and slipping back into the clothes Zoro had given him. He wandered through the empty house to the living area, finding Zoro lying down, one hand supporting his head as he read a book. Zoro looked up upon hearing him arrive.
"Hey, feeling better?"
"Yes. Thank you so much. But a shower would have been just fine. You didn't have to go through all that trouble on my account." Sanji said as he played with the hem of his shirt.
"It's no trouble. I do it almost every day anyways…" Zoro trailed off as Sanji yawned.
"I'll get the futon out. That way you can sleep. But I only have one, so I hope you don't mind sharing." Zoro said standing and moving the one room Sanji hadn't seen.
Zoro pulled apart the Shoji adjacent to the living room revealing another sparse tatami covered room. Zoro went to the large closet which stood out in the room, it being an antique with a European design, and pulled out the futon, setting it up on the floor. Once this was done Zoro excused himself and Sanji got under the covers, too tired to do much else and promptly fell asleep.
Zoro in the meantime went to enjoy his bath. He sat in the tub letting the hot water do its magic, the large scar on his chest appearing pinker as it always did when in contact with hot water. Zoro contemplated on the day he had had with Sanji. First, his thoughts turned to the beautiful poem Sanji had recited and the emotions it had brought on, not only for the blonde man, but for Zoro himself. Zoro had lost his parents when he was two, but because he was so young he didn't remember them; Sanji was different, he had known his mother, and Zoro couldn't possibly imagine what it was to lose a beloved family member like a mother. After a while, Zoro's thoughts drifted to happier moments such as the beach and running to get out of the rain. He suddenly and very vividly remembered Sanji, completely soaked through, carefully unbuttoning his shirt with his long fingers to reveal a very pleasant physique.
Zoro was very much aware that he was attracted to Sanji, nor did he feel any shame in it. For a long as he could remember Zoro had been attracted to both sexes, and while as a teenager he had been caught with another boy and reprimanded for it, he didn't see what it was he had done wrong. Now as images of Sanji in various stages of undress raced through his mind, Zoro's physiological response to Sanji became apparent. Zoro, eyes still closed, grabbed his growing erection under the water stroking himself until he came. After coming down from his high, Zoro drained the tub and rinsed off with the showerhead, pulled on the clothes he used to sleep in and padded quietly to his room, finding Sanji fast asleep under the futon, snoring lightly.
Zoro smiled and turned out the lights, getting under the covers, his arms behind his head Zoro fell asleep wondering what the next day would bring.
Author's Note: Well there's chapter 4 ! Things will be getting a bit steamier from this point on. You have been warned !
For those of you interested, the poem Sanji recites, it is called "Il pleure dans mon coeur" by Paul Verlaine. I thought it was just the perfect poem for the scene.
Here is my own translation of the poem. While it might not be as pretty as the original French, it is accurate, I promise.
It cries it my heart
Like it rains on the town;
What is this feeling of intertia
That penetrates my heart ?
O soft sound of the rain
On the ground and on the roofs !
For a heart that is bored
O the song of the rain !
It cries without reason
In this heart that is sick
What ! No betrayal ?
This bereavement is without reason.
It is the worst kind of pain
To not know why
Without any love and without any hate
My heart is so sorrowful.