There was something she wasn't telling him.
Zoro knew this, and Kuina had to have known he knew this. But she'd made the decision to avoid him all day, something that was ultimately hard to do seeing as they both worked at the dojo.
It had been three years since he'd beaten her for the first time, earned their first kiss, almost one and a half since Zoro had graduated from high school and opted to pass on college to work at the dojo. And exactly three weeks since a drunken night had stolen both of their virginities.
He was nineteen, and he hadn't been thinking, but neither had she, and when they'd woken up in each other's arms with massive hangovers, it wasn't nearly as terrifying as it could have been.
She'd looked at him, asked if he loved her, and when he'd forgotten how to breathe because she was so beautiful and perfect for him, he'd stammered out a somewhat foolish, "Yes."
She hadn't said it back, but she'd smiled.
Since that day, life had been relatively normal, all things considered. They still sparred; they still bickered. However, the two of them were an item now, though they never really labeled each other as such, nor made any public show of it.
But pulling each other into storage closets between lessons and making out within an inch of their lives probably fell under the 'item' category.
Neither had pursued anything intimate since, not yet at least. It wasn't something that was particularly high on either of their lists of desires. Their first time had been the result of too much alcohol, not to mention a sort of challenge, as things usually were between them.
And this was why Kuina was perfect, because she understood that there were absolutely things Zoro could live without, and sex was one of them. They both had other things to focus on.
That didn't mean he couldn't appreciate her, the softness of her skin, the taste of her lips, and the feeling of their bodies forever in sync no matter what they were doing.
He loved her, and he wanted them to belong to each other, even if it was unspoken.
But he didn't know what was wrong. He didn't know why Kuina had suddenly started avoiding him, hadn't even looked at him all day, and for the first time in his life, he felt insecure. Not about his kendo abilities or anything he could change.
No, he felt insecure in his own skin, like the person who meant most to him had just deemed him entirely unworthy, and it fucking hurt, made him more upset than it should have.
He'd worked himself up enough that, by the time they had to close up the dojo for the day, he hid his shoes, pretended to leave, then staked out in the hallway outside the training room he knew she'd be in.
He heard the clack of wooden bokken being arranged in the storage closet within, so he leaned up against the wall and fucking waited, ready to catch her the second she came out.
And sure enough, a few minutes later, he heard her footsteps getting closer to the door.
As soon as she appeared in the doorway, he stepped out, actually startling her and causing her to stumble back.
But her eyes soon narrowed and she kept moving, shoving him hard in the chest with a growled, "What the hell are you doing?"
"No, stop!" he insisted, moving in front of her again and putting hands on her shoulders, trying to keep the hurt from his tone. "What the hell are you doing? You haven't said a fucking word to me all day! The hell's your problem!"
She scoffed, tried to push past him again, even lifting her hands to grab his wrists in an attempt to wrench them off her.
"I didn't realize you were so needy, Zoro," she muttered, instead ducking under his arm to get away.
He reached out again to stop her though, an arm stretching out to wrap around her waist in order to physically haul her back.
Usually this wasn't a problem. They had no issues getting physical with each other. For fuck's sake, they sparred all the time, and lately, in particular, it had usually ended with one or both of them on the floor. They never worried about injuring each other.
But for some reason, she panicked, in a way he'd never seen her do. His arm had barely made contact with her torso before she leaped back, pushed his arm away with all her might and backed into the training room again, bare feet sliding on the mats.
"Don't touch me!" she hissed, a flicker of fear in her eyes, and this had him drop his arm limply to his side, complete bewilderment coming to his features.
Had he actually hurt her? No, he couldn't have. She'd danced away before he could apply any sort of pressure, so why…?
Kuina stood there, eyes averted, looking uncomfortable as hell, a hand sneaking up to rest on her stomach for a second, though she quickly removed it, bringing it to her other arm instead.
Zoro wasn't sure how to react, falling somewhere between embarrassment and irritation, most of it to conceal how much this was twisting at his chest and making him anxious in ways he'd never felt before.
The swordsman let out a breath, closed eyes for a second, all in an attempt to calm himself.
"What's wrong?" he tried, softening his voice a little, but it was hard to hide how unsettled he was. "I don't - w-was it something I did?"
He couldn't think of anything he'd done that might have made her this mad, but clearly it had to have been something when he saw the way she squeezed eyes shut and brought a hand up to cover them.
When she pulled her hand away, he was surprised to see the faint shimmer of unshed tears there, and, as always when he saw Kuina get emotional, he panicked himself. He felt himself flush, a surge of awkwardness wash over him.
His urge, now, was to reach out and embrace her, but dammit, Kuina wasn't the type to crumble and fall into his arms for comfort, and in situations like this, well, he still felt far too inexperienced.
So he stood his ground, watching her helplessly.
"Kuina…" he murmured. "What…?"
A few harsher breaths left her as she struggled to remain composed, knuckles pressed hard against her lips. It was as if she were terrified to tell him whatever was bothering her, which, frankly, surprised Zoro. He'd thought that, by now, they could talk to each other. Even if they both hated it, both sucked at it, they could open up, get shit off their chest, then forget about it.
But he could tell by the way her confidence seemed to crawl away from her that this was something serious. Even her posture had changed, shoulders slumping, and an arm crossing over her ribs self-consciously, the other still lifted to her face.
Finally, her hand slowly pulled away from her mouth so she could speak clearly, her gaze lifting to his with bravery, if not certainty.
It took her a full few seconds to work up to what she was going to say.
But eventually, the words came out of her mouth. And they were the furthest from what he'd ever expected.
"Zoro…." she practically whispered. "I'm pregnant…"
Nothing. No reaction from the swordsman, at least not visibly, the only sign that he'd even heard her the slight tilt of his head and tiny furrow of his brow.
Lips parted after a moment, eyes narrowing, and again he breathed, "What…?"
Her top lip curled up slightly, a sharp breath leaving her.
"You heard me," Kuina replied, her voice trembling.
This time, the total force of the statement seemed to hit him, a piercing jolt of anxiety in his chest like he'd done something bad - very bad - and he couldn't take it back.
His eyes narrowed again and he shook his head slightly, now watching her, with growing desperation, for a sign she was messing with him.
"You're - you're - you're serious," he stammered, his mind breaking a bit and struggling to form words.
A shuddering breath left her, her facade beginning to crumble as the fear consumed her.
Trembling hands came up to run over her face, staying over her mouth where she peeked out over them and nodded slowly, eyes on his face the whole time.
His own breaths began to come faster, panic starting to overtake him and dread filling his gut.
Fuck. What the hell had he done? He wasn't ready for this. There was no way in hell he was. He'd never imagined this for himself period, let alone now. He was only nineteen. And now….he'd probably ruined everything for her too.
What the hell did they do? Koshiro would probably murder him…
"H-Holy shit," he stuttered out, stumbling back a step, feeling, for the first time in his life, well and truly helpless and unprepared, well and truly terrified.
He raised his forearm and pressed it against the doorframe, digging his forehead into the back of his wrist and trying to wrap his head around everything.
A kid. A baby. They weren't even - they didn't even have their own place. Kuina still lived with her dad, and he with his uncle. He'd been planning on moving out when he'd saved enough, but he was nowhere near that point and - and kids cost a fucking fortune and - it had been one time. One time, with way too much damn alcohol, and-
He heard Kuina let out a shuddering breath, saw, out of the corner of his eye, her hand reach up to frantically wipe at her eyes, and he knew. He had no fucking business being selfish about this.
Zoro looked up, saw her standing there, a few paces away, alone and holding herself, head turned away from him, biting her lip as tears welled in her eyes.
Kuina was the strongest person he knew, and this was scaring the hell out of her as well….
He pushed off the wall and crossed the room to her with no further thought, arms coming over her shoulders protectively and curling around her head, pulling her in close to his chest.
She clung to him instantly, hands coming up to fist in his T-shirt, which seeped with wetness in the front where her tears met his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he said seriously, pressing his nose against her soft hair and closing his eyes. "Fuck, I'm so sorry. I was a complete idiot. I didn't-"
She shook her head against him quickly, sniffling a few times before replying, "Shut up. It wasn't - w-we were both stupid…"
There was nothing else for her to say, so she trailed off, both of them standing there holding each other, the only sound the cold wind outside signalling the coming winter.
Eventually, one of her hands slid from his back, coming between them so she could wipe at her eyes again.
Zoro pulled back to give her some space, his own chest and throat tight with emotion as well, but he kept his eyes on her, his heart pounding against his ribs.
"I thought….you'd run when I told you," she muttered, wetness smeared over her face.
His hand came up to brush at it, tuck some hair away from her eyes.
"Why would I do that? When the fuck have I ever run from anything?" he replied, somewhat miraculously able to shoot her an exasperated look despite how compromised he still felt.
"I don't know…" Kuina mumbled, a little miserably, giving a slow shrug.
He sighed, feeling the urge to rub at the back of his neck in that nervous habit of his, but he kept his hands firmly at the back of Kuina's neck, thumbs stroking gentle circles there.
"Listen," he started to say, uncertainty coming over him as his thoughts turned to things he'd never thought about before - at least not as it related to his life. Fuck, it was weird…
"I - I don't know shit - about this kind of stuff, but - whatever you wanna do - keep it or - or not - I - I'm with you. I don't - i-it's your decision," Zoro managed, hardly feeling qualified to speak on this matter at all.
Fuck, he was only nineteen - he couldn't stop thinking that.
To his surprise, Kuina actually laughed a little, just quietly, but her lips turned up, and her eyes rose to his again, looking a bit more relaxed, even grateful.
"I have no idea," she replied honestly. "I just - for the past few days, I'd been feeling kind of bad, and so, this morning, I decided to check and - okay, y'know what, those are details I'm not gonna tell your dumb face."
He scoffed, looked indignant, though he was secretly glad for her stubbornness.
Instead, there was a beat, and then she brought her hands around, snaking them up to touch his jaw, play with the three golden hoops on his left ear gently.
"We are not ready," she said decisively, echoing his thoughts from earlier, gaze fixed on those earrings. She shook her head slightly. "There is no way in hell. I - I told you I started saving some so I could travel to competitions, but it's not enough, and - and as far as actually being pregnant goes - fucking shit, I couldn't - couldn't do anything, and - and then there's you. You're a complete doofus - what help would you be?"
This she said with a tiny growing smirk, the reaction she'd been fishing for to make herself feel better coming a second later.
"Hey! What the fuck! You saying I'd be a bad father?!"
"Uh, yeah!" she replied, though she didn't believe a word. She saw how he was with the kids during lessons. Whether he was aware of it or not, Zoro had a natural affinity with children. "You actually think you could provide for a kid? You can't even shower regularly!"
"That's not true! Once a week is a regular schedule!" he yelped in protest.
"And it's fucking disgusting! You can't even be assed to do laundry! What have you ever done to make me believe you'd be a responsible parent!"
"That a fucking challenge?" he shot back. "'Cause I'll prove you wrong! And y'know, seeing as all you wanna do is train twenty-four seven, can't see you paying much attention to a kid either!"
Kuina growled at him and gave him a shove backwards, sticking a finger in his chest.
"No. Don't even try this - we are not making a damn challenge of this! This is serious!" she hissed, huffing out a breath. "I haven't even told my dad yet….fuck, he's gonna kill me - us!"
Her words confirmed what had run through Zoro's own mind, and he let out a breath in similar fashion, drawing in brows as the mood took another dip.
Neither of them said anything more for a long minute, both lost in their own worries, countless scenarios running through their heads, most of them far too stressful to imagine.
Still, Zoro found his eyes drifting back to her face, and he realized there was one source of comfort in all of this.
He stepped forward, brought hands to her hips, a brow quirking mischievously.
"Don't you think a kid of ours would be pretty badass though?" he asked, bringing his forehead to hers and stealing a little kiss to her lips. "Beatin' up bullies an' wreckin' stuff?"
He got his prize, a soft snicker, and she tilted her head to kiss him back.
"Yeah," she admitted. "That's probably the only reason I'd go through with it."
He chuckled too, pulling her closer, closing his eyes when he felt her fingers thread in his hair.
"It's like I said though," he murmured, nuzzling his nose against hers. "It's your decision. Your body an' all that…"
"I know," she replied, sounding much more sure of herself than before, and he smiled gently, her strength working to soothe him a bit.
Their lips had met again, and he wasn't sure when, just that they had, that familiar reassurance coursing through him, closing the hidden circuit that had remained open for so many years, neither of them understanding what they truly meant to one another.
"Hey, Zoro," she breathed against his lips after a minute, and he made a quiet noise in question, already looking to reclaim that contact with kisses to her jaw.
She waited until he was thoroughly distracted by her throat, lavishing her fair skin with small nips of affection that would surely leave marks later.
"I love you," she said, a smile in her voice, and she laughed out loud when his lips stopped altogether, a strangled sound leaving him.
She patted his cheek, still grinning, and, in that moment, the future didn't terrify her quite as much.
Sanji stood opposite him on the mats, barefoot, his jacket discarded and a shirt sleeve rolled up to his elbow, fingers working on rolling up the other.
Zoro faced him, having taken off both his jacket and his dress shirt, not knowing how the cook managed to move freely while still wearing one.
He stood there, wearing only his white tank top instead, which, whether he was aware of it or not, effortlessly showed off muscles in a way that made him look like he'd just fucking stepped off a Criminal runway, in Sanji's opinion. Something that was frustrating as hell considering all the effort the blond put into his appearance.
Zoro was watching him, fists at his side, and a weird look in his eye as he waited for Sanji to finish with his sleeve-rolling.
As soon as he did, he looked up at Zoro behind a curtain of blond hair and said, "I thought about it, and I want you to use a bokken. I wanna see what you got."
Something about this prospect had his heart fluttering in anticipation. He'd already had a shot at Zoro, but he'd never seen Zoro fight. He'd heard about it from his daughter, saw how knowledgeable he was when coaching her. But seeing him in action? It was almost like witnessing some legend come to life. He didn't care if the man was rusty. He just wanted to see him try.
"I told you, cook," Zoro muttered in response. "M'not using one."
"Are you afraid?" Sanji immediately taunted, stepping closer to the man. "You're not gonna hurt me with a stick, Zoro."
"Shut it, asshole," Zoro hissed, glaring at Sanji when the blond started to circle him with an infuriating smirk on his face. "I'm really not-!"
"We know how this ends, mosshead," Sanji interrupted. "Judging by all the other shit I've gotten you to do. Each of those things you've gotten over. You did it. So do it again!"
To this, Zoro growled and looked away, knowing Sanji was right, but this was….
Kuina flashed before his eyes, her features twisted in agony. He felt her sickly warm blood on his hands, saw it smear over her pale skin when he brought a shaking hand to her face, trying to soothe her through his own panic as her breaths hitched and her dull eyes met his, one last-
Two hands met his chest and shoved him back, causing him to nearly fall over clear on his ass before he caught himself.
"You're a master swordsman, aren't you?" Sanji was insisting, getting up in his face now. "It's fucking insulting to me if you won't use your damn weapon of choice, so come on! Let's go!"
Zoro didn't move, just stammered and stared at him, Kuina's fading light still stuck in his vision.
Sanji let out a frustrated sound, and without further ado, marched over to the storage closet, sliding open the doors and reaching in to pull out a long black bokken, one definitely made for adults.
He all but slammed the doors shut and stalked right back to Zoro, shoving the weapon into Zoro's hand forcibly.
"Show her you're not defeated, Zoro," Sanji said in a fierce whisper, close to the other man's face, and it was unclear who exactly he meant - Zoro's late wife or his daughter - but he'd sort of intended the ambiguity, knowing Zoro would fight for his family either way.
Blue eyes searched for that spark to return to Zoro's eyes. It would. He knew it would. He just had to get it burning.
Zoro stood there for a long moment, gripping the hilt of the weapon, his gaze fixed on his hand, brow drawn in tensely.
Sanji waited, watched and waited.
Until, finally, Zoro's eyes closed and he let out a breath.
"I can't do this," he mumbled quietly, and for a second, Sanji's heart fell.
But then, Zoro lifted a sharp gaze to Sanji's and finished, "Not without two of these."
Sanji couldn't help it. The dumbest broad grin worked its way onto his face in an instant.
"You idiot," the cook replied, and he reached up to pat the man's cheek, though it was more of a slap judging by the high-pitched yelp of, "Ow!" the mighty swordsman let loose as Sanji passed him to retrieve another bokken.
But when Sanji returned, he just caught a glimpse of the remnants of a smile on Zoro's face too, one that he quickly tried to hide.
"Better not let me down. Tana's hyped you up quite a bit, y'know," Sanji said, tossing Zoro the other bokken and backing up a few steps.
"Yeah, well…" Zoro muttered, eyes on his hands as he adjusted his grip slightly, then twirled both bokken through the air, bringing them around to a starting position at his sides in a stylish move that still managed to look completely natural.
The swordsman lifted a smirk to Sanji, and for some reason, be it because of his own excitement….or Zoro's confidence, he forgot how to breathe for a second.
He stared at Zoro, not realizing a matching smirk had come to his lips too, and he snorted.
"Show-off," he replied, a little breathlessly, and jerked his chin at the other man. "Seeing as I already got a shot at your face, you move first. Only fair, right?"
"Che."
Zoro scoffed, trying hard to hide the fact that his heart was pounding nervously in a way it never did before a fight. No matter who he was up against, how important the fight, he'd always been able to focus himself, steady his movements and give his all no matter what.
And Sanji had been right. He owed this to the cook, as much as he hated that fact. He knew Sanji was skilled, and he owed it to him to not hold back, to see only him and not the past.
Because Sanji was not his past. Sanji was now. Sanji insisted on leading him into his future. And if he thought about how fucking compelled he was, by some unknown force, to follow the cook there, he felt his breaths slow, his gaze sharpening, and his muscles release some of their tension.
He'd moved before he even really planned it, body working on sheer muscle memory as he darted forward and rotated both bokken in his grasp simultaneously, torso twisting and powerful arms raising the weapons to aim a diagonal attack at the blond.
Sanji hunkered down low, then dropped hands to the floor and kicked up to meet the wooden blades, stopping both effectively with one foot.
Tingles shot through Zoro's entire body, that familiar spark he'd always felt with Kuina, that came from matching his power with another, honing his strength into an attack.
Sanji grinned confidently up at him.
Zoro's body transitioned smoothly into another move, as if the past year hadn't happened at all, and the swordsman knew, for the first time in that year, that this was something he could do. This was something he remembered; this was something that was part of him.
And maybe he hadn't deserved to keep himself from it for all this time.
Sanji pushed off his hands, hurling himself forward and stretching out a long leg to swing a roundhouse kick straight for the swordsman's torso, something Zoro blocked again effortlessly.
He didn't linger though, moving immediately after. He sliced his bokken down out of the way before bringing them up again in parallel motion to connect with Sanji's shin.
This time, the force was enough to send the cook flying back, Zoro's strength catching him off guard, and Zoro took full advantage of his stumble to advance yet again, whipping his body around to nail Sanji directly in the side with both bokken, sure to leave a bruise.
The cook fell to the ground, clutching his side and panting, just before Zoro stabbed a bokken straight down onto the floor in front of Sanji's face, smirking down at him with confidence.
Sanji stared at the weapon in shock for a moment, then flicked eyes up to the swordsman's face.
With that look of pure exhilaration the idiot had, Sanji couldn't help but smile. This was a look he hadn't yet seen from the mosshead. He'd never seen him properly in his element until now.
And he couldn't deny some of that exhilaration was rubbing off on him.
"Again, you bastard," he fake-grumbled, pushing himself up to his feet and pushing hair out of his eyes.
"I wasn't even trying," Zoro said smugly, but backed up to let Sanji get ready.
They went again, the swordsman moving with more grace and precision than the blond ever thought him capable of with his lumbering form.
They clashed over and over, coming in close, Zoro snapping teeth playfully a few times before they'd pushed off each other again, and Sanji realized this must have been who Zoro truly was. Cocky, irritating, but absolutely brilliant at his craft, and it clearly gave him joy.
He slipped up a few times, held back when he shouldn't have and gave Sanji an opening, but the cook hoped that the more he practiced, the more it would come back to him.
Regardless, Zoro had stamina, and this meant they could spar until Sanji had thoroughly worked off every last bit of his anger from their meeting with Smoker.
It had ended with Zoro's bokken, slashing an X over Sanji's torso, sending him crashing to the mats, flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him.
Zoro's foot met his chest, keeping him down, and he leaned in closer.
"What do you think, cook?" he asked, panting himself. "Calling it quits?"
"Get your smelly foot off me!" Sanji huffed, shoving him away, then lifting up his shirt to get a look at the long red welts adorning his ribs.
"Shit," he breathed, falling back onto his elbows and shaking his head up at the swordsman, letting his shirt fall back down. "Fine, we're even. For now."
Zoro laughed triumphantly, and the sound was so uninhibited, so strange coming from Zoro that the cook raised brows, shook his head disbelievingly.
"Okay, don't be an asshole about it," Sanji muttered, wiping at his mouth and trying to keep a grin from his face as well. If the both of them were in here smiling like idiots, then that would just be stupid.
His eyes fell to Zoro's side where he knew he'd connected hard with a kick, so he sat up, resisting the urge to wince, and scooted himself closer to the swordsman, who'd plopped himself down on the floor too, crossing legs, his bokken across his lap.
"Let me see where I hit you," he said, gesturing for Zoro to lift his shirt.
"You didn't hurt me, cook," Zoro replied, swatting at Sanji's creeping hand.
"Then there shouldn't be a mark," the cook insisted, shooting Zoro a look until the swordsman rolled his eyes and reluctantly rolled up his shirt.
To Sanji's satisfaction, there was a foot-shaped red blotch on Zoro's right side, between his ribs and his hip, and he made sure to redirect the swordsman's own smug expression back at him.
The cook's fingers reached out automatically to touch it, something that Zoro actually didn't shy away from, but he certainly lifted eyes to Sanji's face, holding his gaze there curiously.
Unlike the first time Sanji had touched an injury of his, he remained still, the sensation of another's hand touching his bare torso something he hadn't felt in a long time.
Sanji's touch was different, and yes, he could fully admit to himself that he was comparing the blond's touch to Kuina's. He couldn't exactly help it.
His touch was different, fingers rougher and longer, but he was still gentle as could be. And when he slid fingers slowly, the swordsman sucked in an audible breath automatically.
The cook seemed to become aware of what he was doing, hearing that breath, especially when he lifted eyes and found Zoro watching him. He quickly pulled his hand away.
"You're probably fine," he muttered, and was his face actually going red?
Zoro kept eyes on him, breathing lightly as he slowly rolled down his shirt again.
Things felt all too familiar, like déjà vu hitting him, sitting here on the training room mats, the two of them alone, none of the after-school classes having started yet. They were alone and he felt fucking sixteen again, riding the high of a good fight, but unsure of where to channel that energy now.
It had all made sense when he and Kuina had finally hooked up, but this was….
His mind went there, of course, with Sanji, knowing what had happened with Kuina.
He'd never put stock in gender preferences. He liked who he liked and it just so happened the first person he'd fallen for had been a fucking incredible woman.
He stopped himself though, from even allowing himself to picture anything further with anyone else. He still wanted Kuina, still loved her, missed her more than anything, and he knew, if she were here, he'd take her back in an instant.
And yet that was unrealistic, unhealthy even, wasn't it.
She wasn't coming back, and there was someone here, right in front of his face, who, in the past few weeks alone, had given him more than anyone in the wake of Kuina's death.
Sanji had given him strength, comfort, reassurance. He'd taken care of his daughter, walked with him as he confronted things he never thought he'd be able to again.
Sanji wasn't Kuina. But he was a way forward.
He just didn't want to confuse himself over what kind of way forward he was….
The soft chime of a phone alert interrupted the silence, something Zoro was a little glad for. It seemed Sanji was too, already scrambling up, knowing it was his phone.
He walked over to his jacket, laid out neatly on the floor by the door, next to Zoro's crumpled one, his phone resting on top.
"Oh no…" he muttered, upon seeing just what the alert was.
"What…?" Zoro said, his heart, which had still been beating rapidly in his chest, now sinking.
Sanji walked back over to him, a hand in his hair, and he lowered himself to the mats opposite Zoro again.
"It's a text from Pudding," he said, showing Zoro her name across his screen.
Zoro let out a breath, then clenched his jaw and shook his head.
"Just ignore it, cook," he advised. "Let's be done with this shit."
"I can't just ignore it," Sanji replied, still staring at his phone. "What if-"
"What if what! Nothing good is gonna come of it if you answer!" the swordsman insisted, feeling anger rise within him.
They were done. Zoro had thought maybe they could start to move on from all of this drama, and he knew he'd been right to hate this Pudding bitch from the start. She was bad news, and while he didn't know exactly what had gone down to break her and Sanji up, he didn't care. If she'd hurt Sanji, then…
"Let me just see what it says," the cook muttered, tapping the screen with his thumb to open her message.
Eyes flicked over it, narrowing slightly, and he tilted his head.
Zoro had let out a frustrated noise, and Sanji could feel his heart beginning to pound.
After a few moments, Zoro raised eyebrows at him.
"Well? What's it say?" the swordsman prompted, and Sanji looked up to meet his impatient gaze.
"It says, 'I'm sorry. I didn't know anything about Hody. I want to justify myself,'" he dictated, to which Zoro immediately shook his head adamantly.
"No. Uh uh. She doesn't fucking get to! Like hell she didn't know!" he exclaimed, and though Sanji knew Zoro was right, a traitorous part of him still wanted to believe Pudding, wanted to believe that there was still some good in her.
"I…." Sanji stammered, feeling incredibly torn, but Zoro wasn't having it.
"Cook! Don't be stupid! Just leave it! Whether she knew or not doesn't fucking matter! It happened, and now-"
"So should I just - not give her a chance?!" Sanji shot back. "Zoro, maybe - listening to her will help put it behind us!"
"She's had a fucking year to apologize to you, cook!" Zoro argued. "She doesn't deserve to-"
"And you've had a fucking year to sort your shit out too, Zoro!" the blond insisted without thinking. "And last I checked, you hadn't done that either!"
He was seething now, fire working its way into his blood because how dare Zoro attack Pudding. How dare he decide if Pudding was worthy of a second chance or not. He didn't know Pudding. He didn't know the kindness and tenderness she was capable of, that he was sure wasn't an act.
But it simmered within him entirely as soon as he saw Zoro's shoulders slump, the anger on his face turning inward. He looked away, staring at the wall, and swallowing hard.
Fuck.
"I'm sorry," Sanji remedied, wilting and running a hand over his face. "I didn't mean…." He sighed heavily. "I don't know why I'm being so damn defensive of her still…."
Zoro closed his eyes and shrugged. But then he opened them and turned them to the cook again, a little sadly, Sanji thought.
"Because you still care about her," he answered matter-of-factly, and immediately Sanji's eyes burned.
He didn't want it to be true, especially not after seeing her again two weeks ago. He'd thought his mistrust had been enough to make certain the fact that he didn't care.
But...well...it apparently wasn't so easy for him to do that….
"I don't - want to though…" Sanji hissed, unable to look Zoro in the eye any longer.
He felt vulnerable, like his own dark secret had been uncovered. And while he'd already sort of admitted it to Zoro after their visit with Smoker, having it put out in the open, making him feel things he didn't want to be feeling anymore, he was ashamed.
Zoro seemed to sense his mental battle, because when the swordsman finally spoke again, he'd softened his voice somewhat.
"If it'll make you feel better, then talk to her," Zoro muttered. "But don't do anything you'd regret."
He hated the tone in Zoro's voice. It was almost defeated, and that was heartbreaking considering how good they'd both been feeling up until now. Yet again, Sanji's past was ruining things…..with someone who Sanji was quickly coming to realize he didn't want to ruin things with. No matter what.
The cook sighed.
He allowed himself to look at Zoro again.
The other man had dropped his head, fingers absently tracing the ito banded tightly around the hilt of one of the bokken. And he remembered what the swordsman had said in the car earlier, thought about how awful he must've felt for seeing his dead wife's doppelgänger. He couldn't even imagine...and the more he thought about it, the more he felt like a total dick for burdening Zoro with his own problems.
"You said you wanted to let go…." Sanji found himself murmuring a moment later, eyes on Zoro's stoic face the whole time. "That you wanted to move on. Does that mean you still love her?"
He heard Zoro let out a long breath, and in reality, the swordsman's heart had clenched hard.
Sanji had touched on exactly what he'd been thinking before, and for some reason, he felt nervous about revealing the truth. He was nervous of what Sanji would think of him, especially after his insistence that Sanji forget about Pudding.
He lifted his gaze, dark eyes meeting blue, something that had his heart pounding harder in his chest.
He somehow managed to keep his voice steady when he answered.
"I'll always love her. She's the mother of my daughter."
His reply had Sanji nodding slowly, the cook surprisingly not jumping on him for his lingering feelings.
Sanji understood, after all. Kuina had never done anything to lose Zoro's trust or love. They'd still been happy together when she'd died. There was no reason Zoro shouldn't still love her.
"I'm jealous of you, Zoro," the cook admitted after a second, lips turning up a little sadly when Zoro quirked a brow and tilted his head in confusion.
"You're jealous of me?" he asked, sounding skeptical, and Sanji shrugged.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "You had it. Had everything. A good relationship. A family."
Zoro looked about to protest, but Sanji quickly raised a hand to stop him before he continued.
"Regardless of what happened….you still have those good memories to hold on to. I've….always wanted that. That's all I ever wanted with Pudding…"
He sighed, looking a little sheepish as he added, "You'll kick my ass if I call you 'lucky' but…"
"Damn straight…" Zoro muttered quickly.
But it wasn't because he was angry. In fact, he seemed a tiny bit amused as well. Yet, even if he did have good memories, he wouldn't exactly call it the luck of the gods that all of it had come crashing down on him.
Still, Sanji was sitting there, saying he was jealous of something everyone should have. Maybe Zoro hadn't had it in the conventional sense, growing up, but he'd had some form of a support system. He didn't know much about Sanji's past, but it seemed the cook hadn't had that.
It fucking sucked.
So while he probably wasn't lucky in some senses of the word, he couldn't exactly go around discounting the cook's feelings.
He thought back to a time when he'd felt similar. Because, in the beginning, he'd been jealous of Kuina, hadn't he. Kuina had lost her mother when she was born, but her dad was always around, always there for her. She lived at the dojo, and everything seemed so secure for her.
He'd had his uncle, but the man hadn't exactly been the type to show his love often and openly.
He'd wanted what Kuina had, and it sure seemed like the world was an endless cycle of the same. There was really no use feeling sorry for oneself, was there.
"She forgave me, y'know," Zoro murmured, saying the first thought that came to his mind. Maybe, in any other situation, it would've been a weird thing to say, but right then, he didn't think the cook would much care. "The last thing she said to me was that everything was gonna be okay."
The cook looked surprised for a second before his expression relaxed some, realizing what Zoro was talking about.
There was nothing to say to that, so he simply asked, "Do you think it will be?"
The swordsman's gaze fell back to his lap, feeling the embarrassment from his statement a little too late. It was fucking sappy and personal. He'd never told anyone about that before, he realized.
"I didn't think so, for a long time," he muttered in reply, because Sanji was obviously looking for one. "But….now m'startin' to think it's possible…."
The awkwardness that had come over him was palpable, fingers tracing absent patterns over the smooth bokken in his lap, cheeks heating a little bit.
A small smile began to come over Sanji's face, seeing Zoro look like that. It was actually kind of…..dare he think it, endearing….in a way. But no, that was weird to think about a lout like Zoro.
Sanji couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head and running a hand back through his hair.
"This got way too deep," he said, and his delight only grew when he saw Zoro's ears begin to tinge red as well, the swordsman keeping his gaze firmly in his lap.
"You started it," he mumbled, to which Sanji gave a short disbelieving laugh.
"Did not," he answered swiftly.
"Did too," Zoro shot back, ever the five-year-old, Sanji thought.
The cook leaned back on a palm, still content to study the emotionally compromised swordsman. He enjoyed having the upper hand. But he didn't want his mind to get stuck somewhere it shouldn't.
"Hey. Zoro," he said after a minute, during which the mosshead had yet to look up.
He waited until Zoro finally did to ask, "Would we have gotten along?"
Zoro rose a brow in silent question, so Sanji clarified.
"Me and Kuina."
He'd asked the question in a lighthearted manner, but part of him still expected Zoro to get a faraway look in his eye, to go quiet again.
But the swordsman surprised him as a rather dopey smile started to slowly pull at his lips, Zoro raising a hand immediately to try and conceal it, though he didn't quite manage in time.
Sanji couldn't help but grin back.
"If I tell you she would've thought you were an annoying prick, you probably wouldn't believe me, would you?" Zoro replied, sticking his tongue in his cheek, anything to suppress his dumb smile.
"Nope~" Sanji replied easily. "Not with that stupid look on your face."
Zoro rolled his eyes and looked away, and again the word 'endearing' settled itself in Sanji's mind. His reaction had been just like his daughter's, when he'd expressed his approval of Kuina to her.
"She was prettier than Tashigi, right?" the cook continued, deciding to try and keep this going.
Clearly, Zoro liked it when she was mentioned, and considering he'd probably never talked about her with anyone for a fucking year, this had to be good. It wasn't fair to let her be lost to the rest of the world. That's how he felt about his own mother, after all.
"Yeah," Zoro answered, nodding, his cheeks flushing again slightly, and he looked downright bashful when he lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck.
"Thought so," Sanji replied. "Your daughter had to get her looks from somewhere, cactus head~"
"Oi! Says the guy with swirly eyebrows!"
"For the last fucking time, they're not swirly! I don't know where you get that fucking idea!"
It wasn't long before both of them had a few more bruises to go along with the ones they already sported.
His shift at the Baratie wasn't for another few hours, but Sanji left the dojo soon after that, with promises to text Zoro later. He'd left in good spirits, but as soon as he sat in his empty car, Zoro staying behind, he wished he wasn't alone.
Zoro had been a good distraction, despite what they'd dealt with that morning, and sparring with the man had been cleansing, somehow. He didn't like having his ass kicked, but….well, okay, maybe he did a little, in the healthy way. It meant he had a real challenge, and it seemed Zoro could be his equal in strength.
These were good things.
And yet, without Zoro, his worries returned.
Reiju still hadn't replied to his questions about their brothers' account, and while that wasn't unusual, his mysterious sister usually only reachable by direct phone call, he wasn't sure he wanted her to reply anymore. The less drama the better.
After all, that still left Pudding's text without reply….
He wasn't going to respond. He wasn't.
But he feared his own weakness, feared what it would urge him to do.
By the time he'd driven off towards the Whole Cake district, he knew to be terrified.
Zoro had stayed at the dojo for an hour or so after Sanji left. He'd wanted to meditate, wanted to push all of his stress of the day from his mind. But when he'd settled down to do just that, his thoughts had come right back to the blond, even in his attempts to clear them.
Sparring with Sanji had been incredible, made him feel things he hadn't felt since he'd lost Kuina, and it only made him want more.
But, thinking about it, he selfishly felt like he could lose it all again.
Because what if the dumb cook went and talked to Pudding in the end? He'd thought the blond sounded level about it by the time they parted ways, but he was coming to realize just how damn powerful the cook's emotions could be when influencing his actions.
He had no proof Sanji would contact her, but it scared him, and maybe, just maybe, he was jealous.
Of what? He had no right to be, but dammit, he was, and despite the good time he and Sanji had shared, it still managed to thoroughly sour his mood by the time he showed up at Robin's to pick up his daughter. He knew his friend could've driven Tana home, but he'd needed to blow off some steam, so the run had helped with that a little….even if it had taken far longer than it needed to due to a few wrong turns, unbeknownst to him.
It was late afternoon, and Zoro was a little surprised when Franky answered the door. Usually he was still at work at this hour.
"Hey, bro. Thought you'd text. Come on in," the larger man greeted, dressed casually in an open Hawaiian shirt and a pair of gym shorts that Zoro knew he wore for the kids' sake. Franky had always been one to prefer walking around in his underwear.
"You off work?" Zoro asked, following him into the house.
"Ah, yeah, just takin' a few hours now. Gotta work late tonight - big project - so wanted to see the fam~" Franky replied as they walked through the entrance, past the towering Poneglyph and down the hall towards the kitchen.
Robin was seated on a stool by the counter, sipping a steaming cup of coffee, a rather hefty book open in front of her amidst a mess of tools spread over the counter.
"Zoro~ I didn't expect you to come. I could have taken Tana home myself," she said, though her smile said she was happy to see him.
"It's fine," he replied. "I was...around."
He trailed off, eyes scanning the tools before him, drifting to the ten-inch rectangular hole in the wall beneath the cabinets by the sink, various wires sticking out of it. On the counter in front of it was a touch-screen panel that looked in the midst of being dismantled.
Franky moved over to the construction zone as soon as he entered the room, a grin on his face.
"Sorry for the craziness~ Wirin' a few new things to the control panel." The house's control panel, as ridiculous as it sounded. "Soon as I'm done, this baby's gonna learn a few more attacks!"
"What," Zoro asked, monotone, staring at his friend like he'd lost his mind.
"Sure thing!" Franky replied excitedly. "If there's ever some huge emergency? I dunno, an earthquake or alien invasion or shit - someone tryin' to break in? Well, last year I added the beams, but now, we're talkin' flamethrowers!"
Zoro stared at him, at the avalanche of screwdrivers and motherboard parts scattered about, none of which could effectively program a house to do anything, as far as he knew, let alone fire shit at people.
"Would you like to be a test subject, Zoro~?" Robin mused, smiling casually.
"Where's my daughter…?" he asked, shooting her an unamused look, and she chuckled.
"I'm sorry, she was Test Subject A," Robin replied, setting down her drink, and amended, "Upstairs," when Zoro looked much less than amused. "Shall I fetch her for you?"
"Your house'll probably shoot me if I try, huh," he muttered drily in return.
Robin chuckled again, and exchanged a glance with her husband, replying, "Quite right."
Dark humor aside though, there were still worrisome things to discuss, primarily Zoro's trip to the police that morning, which Robin and Franky had been made aware of.
"How were things this morning…?" Robin asked, and Franky set down his screwdriver, turning to give the two his full attention.
Zoro had seen the question coming, knowing they wouldn't be able to resist asking. It was fine. Part of him did want to talk about it, though he didn't want to reveal every detail about what had happened with Sanji...the things he'd been feeling, and the frustrations he'd felt.
"I told you what happened with his brothers. What they wanted him to do," Zoro murmured, keeping his voice down in the off chance one of the kids was snooping. He knew they'd know just whose brothers he was talking about. "He thought it was Big Mom's account, but her and Crocodile set him up in order to frame Hody instead. He was kind of….a common enemy of theirs, I guess…"
Again, Franky and Robin exchanged a look before Robin leaned an elbow on the counter, resting her chin on fingers.
"I see. So it was, essentially, all for naught," she said.
"Yeah," Zoro replied. "It sucks. He…..wanted Big Mom in real bad."
Zoro trailed off, wanting to keep from telling her everything about the cook's sentiments. That felt….private...like something only he and Sanji should know.
Franky sighed heavily and ran a large hand over his stubbly head.
"Well, on the bright side, guess we won't have to worry about seein' any of those Fishmen at the gala on Saturday. Without Hody, doubt they'll represent."
Robin nodded.
"Crocodile, on the other hand…." she said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. She looked to Zoro then, a sparkle of mischief in her eye. "I don't suppose you'll be attending, will you, Zoro?"
He merely shot her a look that affirmed the negative, to which Robin sighed faintly.
"That's a shame," she said, then pushed up from the counter. "I thought perhaps you'd bring your new friend~ I'll tell the children you're here."
Then she headed from the room with one last fleeting glance over her shoulder.
As soon as she left, Franky gave a wiggle of eyebrows and turned back to his work.
"Well, can't say I blame ya, bro, for skippin' out. Startin' to get bored of it myself. Too many damn speeches. Though I think you're gonna spoil the kids' fun. They all wanted to stay home alone~"
"I don't gotta babysit 'em," Zoro muttered. "I'll find something else to do." He paused then, narrowing eyes at his friend currently hunched over a few wires with a pair of pliers. "Hold on, is that why you're turning the house into a Transformer?"
"Kinda," Franky admitted with a broad grin. "Been wantin' to do this for a while though~ Ever since those squirrels started gettin' in Robin's flowers out back~"
Zoro couldn't help but snicker, the ridiculous image of a squirrel getting fried to a crisp by a flamethrower running through his mind.
"If you test it out, call me," the swordsman replied, grinning too, and Franky couldn't help but feel pleased with himself for making Zoro laugh.
He hadn't seen the man this happy in a while.
The afternoon was clear, enough so that when Zoro and his daughter left Franky and Robin's house, they were both just fine with walking. And with Tana leading and physically steering her dad away from taking wrong turns, it wasn't going to take nearly as long as it could have to get back to their apartment.
Neither of them spoke for a while, but it was obvious that Tana wanted to. She'd been stealing glances at her dad a few times every block, watching him to see if he looked upset, after this morning, or even the opposite, after hanging out with Sanji.
When she stopped paying attention to where she was going and walked right into an oncoming man, who pleasantly cursed her out, Zoro finally took notice.
He pulled his daughter out of the way protectively, flipped the asshole off, and kept his hand on her shoulder as they kept walking on.
"You spacin' out or somethin'?" he asked her once they'd made it farther down the block.
"No," Tana grumbled, annoyed now. "I just-" A frustrated huff. "Well, what happened? You said you were gonna tell me stuff last night, so what went down?"
Zoro sighed, lifting his hand to the side of her head for a gentle ruffle.
"It's shit you don't need to worry about - really," he insisted when she shot him a glare. "The cook's…."
He hesitated, just for a moment, but ultimately decided the cook wouldn't be against her knowing. Sanji didn't think it was fair to keep anything from her, and Zoro had to agree, despite the fact that he still was.
"His brothers are in Impel Down," he explained truthfully. "They were tryin' to get one of the people they worked with arrested, with the cook's help. But it didn't work. She set them up and someone else got arrested instead. We're pissed about it, but kinda nothin' we can do."
Tana furrowed her brow, but, thankfully, it didn't seem like she was going to pry further.
"Oh…" she said, as if she were expecting something different, and he breathed a subtle sigh of relief for that reaction. He hadn't wanted to name names.
Her expression changed a little then, from troubled to curious, maybe a little shy about her next question.
"What happened after?" she asked. "Oliver's mom said you guys...went to the dojo?"
He quirked a brow down at her, something weird stirring within him at the soft, almost hopeful, tone of her voice. He didn't know what she was hopeful about, but it made his head go a little fuzzy when his thoughts returned to the blond, how it had felt to spar with him.
"We went to the dojo," he repeated with a shrug, suddenly adopting the demeanor of an embarrassed teenager. "Nothin' to say about it."
"Nothing?" Tana grilled. "Did you spar or something?"
He looked at his daughter a little guiltily, knowing he had yet to spar with her properly. Meanwhile, he'd gone and picked up a bokken for the first time with Sanji. Kicked his ass even.
"Maybe…" he mumbled, looking away in preparation for being scolded by his own child.
As expected, her jaw dropped. And then she whacked him. Hard.
"Dad! With a bokken and everything?"
He shied away from her hit, rubbing his arm as if terribly wounded.
"Maybe…." he mumbled again, and this earned him yet more hits to his arm, multiple this time.
"Daaaad! You wouldn't even touch one with me!" she whined, and the slapping was enough to make him chuckle. Even if she was mad at him, it was for something he felt good about doing.
He sighed, then caught her hand, caught both when she reached the other up to hit him with that.
The two stopped at the street corner when the light changed, so he took the opportunity to face her, press hands to her shoulders. He was serious about what he said next, after all.
"I'll do it, okay? We can spar too," he said, smirking when she pouted up at him.
He sounded serious, but she wasn't sure if she could believe him. Though if he was telling the truth about sparring with Sanji, then….
"Do you promise?" she asked, all but demanding he do so with a fierce gaze.
He lifted hands, brought them to her cheeks, cupping them tenderly for a second until he had her full attention.
Then he squeezed her cheeks together until she screeched and flailed out of his grasp.
"I promise," he said, just as the light turned, and he strode forward towards the crosswalk confidently, grinning back over his shoulder.
She stared for a second, watching him go, in some state of disbelief.
But then she hurried after him, grabbed his arm and yanked him in the opposite direction.
"That's the wrong way, Dad," she grumbled, dragging him off to where they were supposed to be going.
She seemed grumpy, but the pleased little smirk on her face said otherwise.
No regrets.
Zoro had told him not to regret anything he did, and while it was dumb, he had to believe he was making the right decision now that he was standing outside Caramel, hands in his pockets and his heart in his throat. There was no turning back now.
He felt a small taste, he thought, of what Zoro must have felt coming back to the dojo for the first time. This place held many memories for him.
He remembered standing right next to Pudding outside the café when she cut the ribbon on opening day. She had looked stunning in a frilly pink dress, and despite his disapproval over how she'd gotten the money, he had still felt a surge of pride for her. Her dream had, ultimately, come true, and he'd found himself entirely caught up in the moment.
The quaint white brick facade hadn't changed, nor the brown window shutters or the roofing Pudding had chosen specifically to look like bars of chocolate. And she'd kept the same little bell on the door when he opened it and stepped inside, the soft sound of piano music flowing through the calm interior.
It wasn't overly busy, though several tables were occupied, mostly by pairs of women chatting and a few single people with laptops, settled in to enjoy the free Wifi with steaming mugs.
Behind the counter, beyond the glass cases holding various chocolates and pastries, and beneath the large chalkboards that detailed the menu items in neat scrawling cursive, there were two baristas, one of whom was the very person he was looking for.
Pudding herself turned around upon hearing the door open, a sweet smile on her face to greet her new customer.
But when she saw who it was, her eyes widened slightly and lips parted.
"Sanji," she breathed, averting her gaze and looking a little bashful when he sidestepped around a seated man with a long black ponytail to approach the counter.
She was looking lovely in a purple floral dress, but the cook was determined not to let it distract him.
He glanced around, taking in his surroundings before he turned back to her and noted, "The tables are new."
Her eyes flicked to them, and she nodded.
"Ah, y-yes," she stammered. "I changed them out a few months ago…"
Sanji nodded too, shoved hands in his pockets, shifted his weight, and though she was watching him again, he didn't say anything about her message just yet.
But it seemed she couldn't handle not knowing, as a mere second later, she asked, "Did you….get my text?"
He sighed.
"Yeah," he replied, hands in his pockets, eyes lifting to the menu above them. "Can I get a mocha cappuccino?"
She looked a little taken aback by his abrupt change of subject. Her co-worker behind her, another cute young woman, quickly moved to prepare it, but Pudding stopped her.
"It's okay, I….."
A hopeful gaze landed on the cook.
"Would you like to talk upstairs?"
Again, the cook sighed, knowing this sounded like a bad idea, but honestly, what had he expected coming here? Talking in private was probably better anyway…
"Alright," he agreed.
A few minutes later, Sanji was settled in the sitting room of Pudding's small apartment on the second floor, on a cushioned antique chair that looked as dainty and feminine as the rest of Pudding's furnishings. Lace curtains, flower vases adorning tables and countertops, the smell of a scented candle when she lit one in the kitchen. All of it reminded him of how she'd decorated their apartment...
She'd offered to prepare him the drink he'd ordered, and, needing time to prepare himself for their inevitable conversation, he'd agreed so he could lose himself out the window, watching the sidewalk below.
In the kitchen, with the sound of the coffee maker to distract her, Pudding's hand hovered delicately over the tiny bottle of colorless ketamine Mama had given her.
She hadn't wanted to involve Sanji. She honestly hadn't, but when Mama wanted something, she would get it, wouldn't she.
Because she, her daughter, was weak. She couldn't go against her mother's wishes because that would mean disappointing her, and that was something she didn't want to do. She'd disappointed Sanji, and she'd lost him. If she disappointed her mother, she didn't want to know what would happen.
She'd lied to Sanji, just a little, in her message. Of course Mama had told her about her plan to get rid of Hody. But that didn't mean Pudding liked it, or felt particularly good about deceiving Sanji. She was truly sorry about that.
Most of all, she didn't want Sanji to get hurt. And she didn't know what Mama had planned for her little "chat" with him, as she'd called it, but she'd also said to trust her.
So into Sanji's cappuccino went the ketamine, topped with a frothy heart design just as he used to like it.
She poured herself a cup as well and brought both drinks over to the sitting room where he waited, as dashing as ever, sitting regally with one long leg crossed over the other and his hair falling perfectly over his face as he gazed out the window. Pudding really wished he still didn't make her heart flutter.
Seating herself opposite him, she set the two drinks on the small table between them, scooting his saucer a little closer to him and picking up her own.
"Thank you….for coming," she murmured quietly, taking a sip from her drink. "I didn't expect a reply, let alone a visit…"
Sanji reached out a hand to grasp his cup, tapping a finger on the handle absently.
"You really didn't know," he said skeptically, cutting right to the chase, eyes lifting slowly from the heart design in his drink to her face, half-hidden behind her cup.
"I-I didn't," Pudding replied easily. "Mama doesn't tell me much these days…."
"Really," Sanji muttered, still tracing the porcelain. "You two were always so close."
"We still are! I just think...she doesn't want to burden me with her business. She knows I have the café…."
The cook sighed heavily, studying her face, the light flush to her cheeks and the way her gaze flicked nervously to his cup.
He couldn't trust her, and as a matter of fact, he didn't. But he did feel sorry for her. In a way, she reminded him of himself - if he hadn't been strong enough to resist his family. As much as his younger days had sucked, at least he'd been able to escape. Pudding was stuck, and might forever be stuck. It was sad really.
"I accept your apology," he said, her eyes lighting up a tiny bit when he said that.
"But…" he continued, making sure to emphasize the word so she knew to listen. "I'm done. I can't help you anymore, Pudding. I can't. You tell your mother to leave me out of her shit. No more."
Pudding's eyebrows rose slightly, her lips turning down in a little frown. She could probably count on one hand the number of times Sanji had cursed in front of her….all of them after they'd broken up.
She set her cup onto the table slowly.
"I understand…." she murmured, closing her eyes sadly for a moment. "No more….I never wanted to hurt you again, Sanji."
"As long as you understand," Sanji said, finally picking up his drink, and taking a long, soothing sip.
She watched him do so, a faraway look in her eyes.
"How is it? Any critique?" she asked quietly.
He sighed. But a tiny smile tugged at his lips before he took another sip.
"It's perfect," he complimented after his second try, and he was telling the truth. Regardless of what Pudding or her mother had done to him, that didn't change her gifts in the kitchen, and he certainly was not one to disregard anyone's skills.
Pudding smiled genuinely, toying with the ends of her hair.
"I'm happy you think so," she said calmly as Sanji's brow furrowed and he blinked a few times, almost in confusion. "I've actually been thinking of adding a few new menu items. Maybe I could...get your opinion?"
He let out a shaky breath, though he tried to keep it subtle, and he slowly set his drink down on the table.
"What kind of...items?" he asked, with some difficulty, no longer looking at her but staring hard at the table between them, breaths starting to come a little harsher.
"Well, I had a few ideas for different cheesecakes," she mused, tapping a finger to her lips in thought. Sanji had hunched over a little, bracing a hand on a knee. "And some new drinks for the holiday season."
"Cheese….cake…." Sanji stuttered, though his face had paled entirely, and, in a moment of clarity, he seemed to realize something. "Pudding….did….you…..?"
But he never finished his question. Instead, he let out a few shuddery breaths and started to fall headfirst towards the table.
Pudding moved swiftly, catching him, the man slumping into her shoulder limply, unconscious.
She sighed, slowly kneeling on the floor and holding him there for a second so he didn't fall from his chair.
Her fingers slipped, of their own accord, through his hair, as they used to, stroking gently for a minute. She tilted her head, nuzzling her nose into blond strands and closing her eyes.
His soft breaths puffed slowly against her collar.
"I really am sorry, Sanji…" she breathed, eager to pretend this moment wasn't what it was, that she could enjoy having the cook close again without any pretense.
A few moments more, then she slipped a hand into the pocket of her dress, pulling out her phone.
Some quick taps with her thumb and she brought the phone to her ear, still holding onto Sanji with her other arm.
A minute passed. There was a click and a grunt on the other end.
"Aladine, you can come upstairs now. He's out," she said.
Another grunt in her ear, then she hung up, slipping the phone back into her pocket again.
Arms she wrapped around Sanji once more, holding onto him tightly, as if her embrace alone would make everything right.
But it wouldn't. Not at all.
