"Four a.m.
We ran a miracle mile
We're flat broke
But hey we do it in style"
- New Radicals - You Get What You Give -
One more time, Sanji thought to himself, rising from his bed like the dead and looking out the cracked window. It was a fair enough day, the morning sun filtered through the lightly gathered clouds. The distant industries had plumes of smoke billowing from their funnel-shaped chimneys. Dark soot was slowly floating to the ground, creating a type of black snow.
Getting down on his knees, Sanji searched beneath his bed for a clean shirt and replaced the one he had been wearing for the past two days.
"Marimo?" He called, stepping out into the hall and entering the kitchen. "Oi," he snapped, catching the green man in the attempt of using the can opener. "You're not supposed to eat."
Zoro threw away the utensil and bit down on the tin. "I know," he growled, saliva pouring down his chin. "We're just rationing ourselves on air, right?" He spat the tin's sticker onto the floor and studied the cylindrical object.
The blonde blinked, kneading his forehead in impatience. "I'm going to give this job thing one more shot."
Zoro placed the tin onto the table and looked up at the blonde. "Really?"
Somberly straightening his shirt, Sanji nodded. "Yeah."
"Well good luck with that," Zoro declared brightly, throwing himself into a chair and picking up the tin.
Sanji blinked. "You coming?"
"No."
"Sure?"
"Why? You want me to come?"
"Not really."
"Then no."
"We might get something to eat." Sanji smirked as the green man stood, suddenly eager to go. He turned and led the way. "Marimo, you're too easy," he said, stepping out on to the street.
Zoro shrugged carelessly.
It was midday when the two men finally slowed their steps. Zoro had found himself incapable of walking any further from the pastry shop.
Sanji growled as he waited impatiently for Zoro standing halfway down the street. "We don't have any frigging money, shit-head." He shoved his hands into his pockets and rejoined Zoro's side. "What is it…?" He slapped the green head so that it hit the glass window. "Will you stop thinking of food?"
Zoro had glued himself to the display window. "I'm not moving from here," he grumbled half-heartedly. He sighed: "Are you positive that you don't have any money?"
The tanned face looked at Sanji's pleadingly, hungrily and with a strange look in his eyes that said he would commit something illegal if he didn't get fed.
Sanji rolled his eyes. "Enough with the face, Marimo," he said. "Okay, I have some money left," Zoro unglued himself from the window, "but it's back at my apartment."
"Yes!" Zoro punched the air triumphantly. "Food!" He power walked down the street, running down anyone who got too close.
"Shit," Sanji cursed quietly, following the head-strong marimo, "shouldn't have told him, dammit."
Zoro raced down the street, like a madman after committing an armed robbery, throwing anyone too close to him to the cement and ruthlessly standing on them. No food had turned him into a one-track-mind savage. In his brain, food equalled survival – he was a survivor.
He turned sharply and, by a miracle, found himself down the right street. He lurched forward just as his mind registered something ahead. Flashing blue lights. Zoro stopped, threw himself backwards and hid himself around the corner of a crumbling building.
"Shit," he panted – food thoughts fading rapidly from his mind. "Security." He looked over his shoulder and at the approaching chef. "Oi! Sanji!" He called, managing a charming grin. "Changed my mind, I'm not hungry after all!"
Sanji stopped. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," the man grunted.
Sanji tried to sidestep around the bulk of muscle but was quickly blocked. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing! Really Sanji, let's not…"
The blonde man jabbed Zoro in the chest. "There, you said my name twice in a row – you never do that. Something's up, spit it out."
Zoro cursed himself under his breath for his obviousness and beckoned Sanji to look around the building.
Eying the green man warningly, Sanji did so.
Two security cars were parked outside his apartment building, blue lights flashing and three large, fat security men were speaking to an elderly woman with grey-blue wiry hair. Sanji felt his heart pounding against his chest and his legs growing weak, he turned to the expressionless green man standing beside him.
"It's the landlady," Sanji choked. He stepped away from the building's corner. "Tell me Zoro; because I'm at a lost, what in the world do I do now?"
Giri: Last time I said last chapter was the turning point where things got better...right? Well things haven't got worse, so I think you should be thanking me. PLEASE REVIEW!