4

That evening, Sanji was in the middle of slicing up onions for the hamburger cooking in a large frying pan next to him, a display of chopped ingredients spread out in front of him as he used the entire marble counter to work. After dropping an array of spices into the meat, he worked the knife fiercely into the onion, occasionally nicking his finger and cursing out loud, tossing the knife aside to treat it. Ahead of him in the living room, Niji and Yonji were playing the latest Battlefield, and Ichiji was reading a book, all of their voices loud and ringing in the high ceilings of the house. Ichiji would occasionally growl at all of them for making such noise; it didn't make sense that he was in the middle of it all, demanding quiet, when he could have been in his room or the nearby den.

Judge walked in without warning, having parked his car in front instead of the garage, using the side door to enter. At the sight of him, Ichiji quickly hopped up from the chair and scurried off before he could be seen, alerting the other two to their father's presence, both of whom quickly turned the game off and scrambled from the living room noisily, trying to avoid being caught.

Judge looked at Sanji, who froze momentarily at the sight of him, in the middle of wrapping a band-aid around his finger.

"What are you doing?" Judge asked, looking at the messy kitchen with a critical eye, frowning at the cookbook propped open against the bar top of the counter.

"They were hungry," Sanji answered hastily, setting his knife aside. "And we weren't sure when you were coming home, so I thought – "

"We talked about this sort of thing," Judge reminded him sternly, holding his briefcase tightly. "It was agreed upon that you wouldn't be doing this, anymore."

"Dad – "

"I had plans on taking us out to dinner. I have reservations in twenty minutes."

"Dad - !"

"Clean it up. Throw it away," Judge ordered, Sanji looking at him with horror.

"This is a lot of food! It won't take that long for the meat to cook, I'll just put it away for later - !"

"Throw it away! I expressively told you that this sort of thing was not allowed! I don't want you doing this! It's not your fucking job to take the part of a woman's role! Let this be a lesson, for next time. We're out of vegetables and meat for next time because of you."

"That's not fair!"

Before Sanji could continue arguing, Niji hurried in, saying, "Dad, dad, guess what? Sanji got his ass kicked today! Some kid knocked him around in first period, just totally snapped on him. Then guess what? He apologized to the kid! So they didn't get in trouble!"

Judge looked confused. "What?"

"Yeah, English totally knocked the shit out of Sanji!" Yonji laughed, venturing out from the den, now that they wouldn't catch shit for being caught playing games rather than finishing up their homework. "Just totally stood up and bam! Bam! Bam! Niji had to save his dumb ass because his head was knocking against that desk like a goddamn tetherball!"

Judge looked at Sanji, who regarded his brothers with a furious scowl, then looked at Judge. Judge noticed that Sanji was wearing some welts around his left eye, on his cheek, but the story was confusing for him.

"What happened?"

"That English kid – " Sanji started to explain when Ichiji cut in with, "He's not actually British or anything, dad, that's just Yonji's stupid nickname for him, by the way."

"Anyway, he just snapped all of a sudden, and I couldn't – I couldn't get out of my desk to fight back, he's taller, and it happened so fast -!" Sanji tried explaining but Judge's confused frown turned into a downcast look of disapproval, so he clammed up, setting the knife aside to hold onto the counter with both hands.

"So, some kid blasted you while you were seated, and you couldn't fight back?" Judge asked. "There's no excuse if he were taller, there's no excuse if you couldn't return the gesture. Perhaps if you'd followed Ichiji's path, or even Niji's, you'd have the ability to defend yourself. Thank you for stepping in, Niji, once again. What was the reasoning behind him 'snapping'? What were you doing to him?"

"We got this assignment in class, where we gotta partner up with each other, and present a debate," Niji said quickly. "English can't English good, so I bet he freaked out because his and Sanji's turn was coming up."

"Sounds like riff-raff to me."

"This kid eats out of trash cans, Sanji said, so Sanji tried to feed him," Yonji interjected.

Judge looked at Sanji again, who looked wordless for a moment before he sputtered with, "It was a goddamn sandwich – Yonji ate it anyway!"

"You made someone outside of the family something to eat?" Judge asked incredulously. "Are we a soup kitchen, now? Not only are we throwing away perfectly acceptable food because I told you not to do something, you're giving our food away to people that have their own means of feeding themselves? It doesn't matter if he found food in trashcans, that's his prerogative to do so. You are not supposed to take it upon yourself to waste time and effort on somebody that will not benefit you to your future. Is this understood?"

"…Yes," Sanji muttered bitterly, red-faced as he started gathering all his ingredients to him, intending on saving what he could for another day.

"Throw it away!" Judge snapped at him, before turning to head for his study.

"Dad, that's food we need," Ichiji said with concern. "Yonji eats us out of house and home – "

"I do not!"

Judge frowned at Ichiji. "I warned him previously that if he were to continue to engage into an activity that I do not approve of, that this would happen. What would it look like if I did not follow up on my word? Toss it. We're going out to eat."

"What a waste," Niji said with a sigh, kicking the trashcan over to Sanji as he stared incredulously after Judge. "Thanks to Sanji, we lost food, tonight…"

"I was making all of this for you!" Sanji shouted impatiently at him, reluctant to follow through when the vegetables he'd chopped were still useable. Defying Judge's order, he put what he could into Tupperware, checked on the meat, and began to load the dishwasher with the dishes he'd used.

"We didn't ask you, to," Niji pointed out.

"All we said was that we were hungry," Ichiji added. "We didn't ask you to do anything about it. You took it upon yourself to do this."

"All I said was that I could eat," Yonji said with a shrug. "I didn't think you were going to go all Simon Cowell on us."

"That's not right…he's on American Idol, a singing competition."

"I don't know, I don't watch that show, Ichiji."

"I did it because all of you asked me to!" Sanji shouted at him.

"We're right here in front of you!" Yonji bellowed in exasperation.

"There's no need to yell at us!" Niji shouted. "Dad! Sanji's yelling at us for no reason!"

"Snitches get stitches," Sanji hissed at him, kicking him into the counter. Niji retaliated by throwing a full Tupperware container at him, Sanji catching it and setting it aside.

"Knock it off, you two," Ichiji demanded. "Dad sounds like he's in a bad mood already. Sanji pissed him off, and he hasn't been inside for more than two minutes."

"Sanji!" Yonji bellowed at him.

"Sanji, knock it off, goddamn it!" Judge roared from his study.

Sanji threw the Tupperware container at Yonji, catching him upside the head. The lid fell off, and food landed over Niji. Ichiji laughed because it was a spectacular display of a double hit, Niji's face reddening as he lurched at Sanji. The two scuffled in the kitchen, knocking over the trashcan and knocking food from the counter, making a mess. Ichiji sighed heavily and walked away, Yonji bending and picking up the food from the floor, tossing it near the trashcan.

When Judge walked back in to see what the noise was about, he reddened with rising anger at the mess caused by the boys, and bellowed, "All of you, except for Sanji, get the fuck out of the kitchen! Sanji, clean this shit up! All of you better be out in that car in five fucking minutes!"

"Yeesh, dad, okay, jeez," Yonji muttered, cringing before slipping under the swat Judge threw at him. When Niji scurried off, Judge kicked him in the back then looked at Sanji, who sullenly began to clean. When Judge walked off towards the stairway to get changed, Ichiji returned to stand on the other side of the counter as Sanji reluctantly turned the stove off, frowning at the nearly cooked hamburger. Under his brother's watchful eye, Sanji tossed it into the trashcan, and followed through with the rest. Then wiped and swept up the mess caused by the trashcan falling in the first place.

"So, you 'apologized' to the kid?" Ichiji asked curiously. "What's that about?"

Gritting his teeth, Sanji answered, "I apologized because if I didn't, I would lose that grade. And I know that Mr Hansen won't do shit if I said I caused the problem, because he's scared of Dad after that conference he had with him over Yonji! If I can get that kid to do the debate, then I get my grade."

Ichiji cocked an eyebrow. "Or Mr Hansen would just give you the grade because that kid started it."

"YOU TOLD ME TO BE NICE TO HIM IN THE FIRST PLACE."

"So, you caused the problem," Ichiji stated.

Sanji stubbornly held his jaw, throwing the sponge aside. "I read his side of the debate. It's better than mine. I wanted him to rewrite it."

Ichiji frowned at him.

Sanji continued with, "Besides, he hates talking, anyway! There's no way he can spit out his side in the first place, so I figured if I did this, then he'd be – he'd have a little more confidence to present his side, and we can get that grade!"

"What a stupid way of going about it!" Ichiji commented, unable to see his point.

"You might think so, but I just feel that I finally have a new standard I need to reach and surpass."

"You thought all this over a single assignment?"

"When I went back to class to talk to Mr Hansen about the grade I have now, I overheard him and Mr Hansen talking during break. He didn't even need a book, or even need to write down notes to pass a test we had – he passed it flawlessly, straight A plus. Mr Hansen was blown away. That kid is a genius, or has some sort of photographic memory thing going on…"

"Ah," Ichiji said with an understanding expression. "I see where you're coming from. You're on one of your useless missions to prove yourself better, again."

Sanji reddened. "No! If I can set the standard for myself by allowing for competition from someone worthy, then how will I know if I'm good enough for the future that father wants?"

"I should be your standard. My GPA is rather exceptional."

"Shut up, Ichiji, you're on a different level," Sanji muttered in disgust.

"LET'S GO!" Judge bellowed at them impatiently, Niji and Yonji racing for preferred seating in the car, arguing the entire way. Once he saw that the kitchen was spotless, Judge waited for Sanji and Ichiji to pass him by, kicking them both just because they were in reach.

That Wednesday morning, because of how last class had ended, their classmates watched them closely for any sign of animosity, or more trouble. But Law mumbled his way through his side of the presentation, Sanji snarling at Yonji for interrupting when Yonji snickered and mocked the taller student for his speech. When Yonji mimicked a particular phrasing Law to used to explain the benefits of an immigration ban, Sanji stepped over and kicked his desk with a snap for him to shut up, Mr Hansen snapping at Sanji to calm down while Yonji tried to get his wind back. Niji hollered from the back that he needed Law to speak up, but Sanji snarled at him, too. He was only doing this to get through with it; not to defend his partner. But their teacher was impressed with their debate, and even added some compliments to Law's side of the presentation. Sanji waited for his praise and received nothing but a guaranteed affirmation that they would receive full grade for it.

After they sat down, Sanji fumed over his desk, glaring at his paper. While he'd changed it to somehow match the depth and content of Law's – who was currently receiving praise from those around them for 'winning' such a difficult topic – it still didn't match the standard Law had set with his. Then he felt nitpicky because Mr Hansen was clearly babying him for his last name and influence, and he was suddenly sure he'd only passed because of it. It wasn't his true effort that Sanji had passed with; it was his name.

It was so frustrating that he ended crumbling his paper and throwing it in the direction of the trashcan. Niji commented on his meltdown, kicking Koala's chair to get her to agree with him.

Once he left the class, he headed straight to his locker. He felt rage burning him up from the inside, feeling frustrated and pressure from meeting the expectations of his father, his siblings, and feeling as if the only reason why he got away with things was because of his family name. Sure, he used it to get his way, but there were times when he worked hard to get approval. When he felt he didn't get any recognition or praise for what he worked hard to accomplish, he felt angry and useless. He opened up his locker, traded textbooks, and slammed it shut, kids veering out of his way once they recognized his expression. Instead of going straight to class, he used a side door to make his way to the parking lot. With shaking hands, he lit a cigarette and sat against the left passenger side tire to avoid being seen by any teachers patrolling the building perimeters. He glared out at the street, trying to calm the raging feelings inside of him. He thought about Monday night, where they ate at yet another restaurant, with Judge mocking him for what happened, and asking for Ichiji to 'show him a few useful moves'. His older brother complied at the house once they returned home, but he'd held onto a neck choke for too long, and Sanji refused to tap because tapping was for pussies, so he ended up unconscious.

Another strike against him; Judge angry at him for not tapping, his brothers laughing at him, and he was just trying to get through the week without having another 'meltdown'. But he missed his mother and his sister; life seemed so much easier with them around. Judge had forbidden the boys from talking to them unless it was their weekly court-appointed call, and monitored their cellphones to make sure they weren't texting each other on the sly. It was just a meaningless point of control for Judge to have over Sola, to hit her where it hurt the most, and it affected Sanji, too. He was closer to her than he was with Judge, so it felt when she left, a part of him left, too.

He glared at the parking lot, listening to the bell ring to signal the end of break. So he finished his cigarette and headed back towards class, still wearing a frustrated expression. He ran into some kids returning from the quad, and deliberately barged right through them, knocking items from their hands as he did so.

"Jerk!"

"Monkey!"

In class, he wrote down what he needed to, taking notes for an upcoming test next week, and vaguely had an ear on other's conversations around him. This was the only class he had without his brothers, so it was almost refreshing. It didn't make him any nicer; he still spoke snidely, mocked anyone that needed it, and made sure that they respected him for his name. But it was that last item that made him fume; why was he so determined to use that power when he hated what it had created of him? To become someone who could get by with using it, but not be praised for his hardworking efforts?

Later that day, as he was marching to his STEM class, he looked over at the library and saw Law sitting there with some books, writing in his notebook as he was the last time. Sanji made to switch direction to approach him until he caught sight of that Luffy kid hurrying down the hallway, holding various snacks in his arms. Sanji took the time to trip the kid in mid-run, then hurriedly marched into the library after the kid hit the floor in a screech of skin against linoleum, snacks flying everywhere.

Ignoring the "JERK!" shout that rang through the hallways, Sanji approached Law while clutching his messenger bag strap with both hands.

"Hey, shit head, do you have a photographic memory, or something?" he demanded, Law looking at him with surprise, closing the book he was taking notes from.

"No," he answered, slightly puzzled.

"Where did you go to school before here?"

Law set the book aside. With how fierce Sanji was looking, he expected another confrontation of some kind. The kid was really wound up, and hadn't been in a good mood since their presentation. Law didn't understand how he worked; Sanji got the grade he wanted, but now he was walking through the halls like he was looking for a fight.

Law thought about the question, wondering why he should answer it, but Sanji was standing in his pathway, glaring at him.

"West Blue," he muttered in response.

"Why are you here? Were you kicked out?"

Law thought about the benefits to answering that question. On one hand, he hadn't done anything wrong; he just needed to be closer to Rosinante. But then again, he didn't owe Sanji anything. Still, he answered softly, "I need to be closer to home."

"Are you in any Honors classes, AP?"

"No."

"What sort of shitty classes do you have, here?"

"Why?"

"Because - ! If we have similar classes, then I'd like to see what you're doing in them," Sanji said, wearing a frustrated expression. "I want to see your work."

Law furrowed his brow, not understanding what he was asking. "So you can copy off me?"

"NO!" Sanji bellowed at him, the librarian looking over with a frown. Flustered, Sanji hissed, "Not to copy – I just need to see how I measure up to your work, so I can make mine better."

Stunned, Law didn't know how to respond to that. So he just stared up at Sanji without saying anything. Smoker had told him to keep his guard up, so he wondered if Sanji were plotting on him for something, to get revenge for what happened the other day. He'd noticed how pissed Sanji was after their presentation, Niji goading him with comments about a weekly meltdown, but Law was only aware of this because he was expecting Sanji to get back at him.

"Well?" Sanji asked impatiently. "What classes?"

"I don't think it's important for you to know that," Law then mumbled uncomfortably, watching him warily.

Sanji grit his teeth, fists balled at his side. He ignored the warning bell, kids scattering to class at panicked runs. "Look, ignore what happened the other day. All I want is to measure myself up to someone that has the same quality of work as I have, so I can attain a better grade and give stronger effort to prove I earn my grades. I want to match my work to the quality of someone better than me."

Stunned once again, Law didn't know what to say. But he continued to remain wary; he shrugged. Sanji glared at him, then muttered as he turned away, "I'll just get your schedule from Ichiji, then. Once I do, we're going to work together a lot more than you think. I have a shit project due for Chemistry – do you have that class?"

"No."

"I have two shitty reports to do for English AP – "

Law stood up from his chair, grabbed his notebook, and walked away, Sanji following after him. "There are only two classes for our grade, and once I find out which one you're in, you'll have no choice but to work with me on that. Even if we don't have the same assignments, I need to know what you're doing so I can adjust my work to surpass the quality of yours! I found out your email, so you better check it and respond to me when I write you. I'll kick your shitty ass if you keep ignoring me! I was nice to you back then, but I can be a real ass if you keep up this silent mode when I'm asking nicely of you to do this one thing!"

Feeling overwhelmed by the demands being spit at him, Law just walked off, Sanji looking after him stubbornly. Then he hurried to his STEM class, feeling his ears burn with continued frustration.

That night, finding some comfortable quiet in his room, Sanji sent off a few emails to Law, demanding some comparisons he'd just completed with his reports. In the meantime, he started looking for the kid on social media. He didn't find any mention of him, but he did find a couple of people that could have been Law's parents mentioned in several medical journals. The man pictured with a grim expression could have been Law's father – they had the same features, the same sort of eyebags, the same facial structure, but Sanji wondered why Law was in the foster system when the man with the same last name was so respected in the medical field.

When he didn't get a response from those emails, he saved his documents and closed up his laptop, roaring with displeasure when Yonji yelled at him to come load the dishwasher.

The next day, he set out during breaks to look for the other student. He found him sitting on the bleachers on his own while the rest of his PE class challenged each other over a ridiculously overcrowded basketball game, the PE teacher noticeably napping on the bench across from them. Garp was infamous for his tough love and random napping, so that explained why it was so easy for his classes to launch out of control at times.

Sanji approached Law with a growl. "You didn't respond to my emails."

Law just ignored him, fist on cheek.

"I need a comparison check on the assignment due for an essay in Nico's class. You have history, right? Did you finish that assignment?"

Law still didn't answer him, but his brow was furrowed as he ran through his memory, to remember if there was an assignment due. While he'd assured Smoker that day he would start putting an effort into his classes, he didn't recall an assignment given in Ms Nico's class, yesterday. He did remember the syllabus saying that there were essays due mid-term and at the end of term, but he was sure Sanji wasn't referring to those. It was much too early to worry about them. But he didn't say anything of this in response to Sanji's demands.

Growing frustrated with the lack of response, Sanji asked, "Look, maybe it's easier for you if we work together, then. I can come over to your shitty house – where do you live? Because there's no way we'll get anything done at my house."

"No," Law told him, horrified at the thought of Sanji being at his place.

Seeing how tense the teen turned at the demand, Sanji latched onto that. "Why? Are you in a shitty group home, or something? I looked you up on the internet, and I was able to find out that you're being fostered, so it's not a problem for me, I don't care about that aspect. I just want to work together to achieve a better grade – "

Feeling his face redden with a mixture of emotions upon hearing that, Law just gaped at him. He didn't understand why Sanji was so fixated on him, and he felt intensely wary of his intentions. He was convinced that Sanji was only attaching himself to him for continued harassment, plotting on some devious thing; that was how bullies worked, nowadays.

He stood up and walked away from him, hearing Sanji's growl of frustration.

Not to be deterred by Law's refusal to cooperate with him, Sanji remembered Law saying that he didn't live far from Grandline. So after the last bell rang, he waited outside near a row of hedges, and once he saw Law make his way hastily from the area, he followed, phone held in hand so if Ichiji called him, he could answer quickly. He was sure he had enough time to trail Law back to his house and return in time to make the ride home.

He saw Law enter the yard of a nice house located just a couple of blocks away, a white Akita barking excitedly, running in circles around him. Law made his way inside, fighting the dog to do so. Sanji took a picture of the address located out front, then hurried back to the school. He saved that information to his phone and felt satisfied. Yonji had another practice in the evening, Ichiji had his jujitsu class, and Niji had plans to visit with some friends. Sanji figured he could take off with the car, and come to Law if Law didn't want to cooperate with him at school.

Guest: I'll do my best! Thanks for reading!