AND. Another late chapter... Sorryy! /slaps self
Hopefully I really can get the next two chapters done by the 14th... :S
Your comments had me crying rainbows guys thank you so muchhh
Let me love you all /sob
Extra note: Hey guys, FF was screwing up... Everyone who got a notification on the update found no new chapter, right? I'm sorry... I swear I posted this up yesterday... Hope it works for you now though ):
Sanji felt as if a devil had tore his last breath from him. Who could this note have been left by? Was it from someone Zoro trusted? He fell against the wall, like a fatigued bird shot out it's sky of peace it had flown in for the past week. He was in danger. The entire hospital was in danger. No one was safe now. Zoro... Where was Zoro?! Was he really with Robin, or had he left? Left... him?
His breath quickened. Please, please let Zoro be fine...! He grabbed both note and phone, shoving them frantically in to his pocket as he ran to the door, gripping the door handle with palms hot, moist from panic and fear. Who was he afraid for? He took a deep breath. There was no point in running around. He couldn't scare the other patients and doctors that were there - selfishness in actions would bring him nowhere. Letting his fingers go slack, he inhaled deeply. Be calm, be calm. Pulled the door open. One step by another, stay calm. Yet his chest felt as if it would explode, pounding with the force of a bull.
Chopper. Just outside Robin's office door was he, holding a pile of sheets as he staggered to and fro in attempt to balance them in his small arms, hands clumsily stable as hooves, the wavering sunlight giving him a soft silhouette. Through the open window at the end of the hallway came a dry breeze of autumn, brittle like thin ice, blowing a stray document from Chopper's pile out of his reach.
Sanji grabbed the sheet as it soared to him, trying his best not to rumple it. "Chopper," he greeted the young doctor who rushed forwards, his fluffy brown hair bouncing with the life of spring. "Sanji, good morning! I'm so sorry, let me take that..." He shifted the weight of the papers in his arms, a weak and futile struggle to hold them all in one hand. The chef couldn't help but smile at the boy despite his worries kicking at his stomach. He placed the document atop the pile and petted Chopper on the head. "It's alright. You're such a hard worker; no wonder you're a genius."
The boy blushed profusely. "No!" he shrieked, ducking his head behind the stack of paper. "Don't think that you'll make me happy with praise!"
Sanji took half the heap from him, easily holding it in one hand. Ah, he could finally show off his service skills from holding trays half the nights in the Baratie. Chopper was just so cute. Looking at the boy made him feel as though he were a father. Any man would be proud to have a son like Chopper. "Oh, Chopper... Do you know where Zoro- Zoro and Robin are?" he asked.
The doctor tilted his head innocently to a side, and blinked, his fine, chocolate brown lashes casting spidery shadows across his round, red apple cheeks. "They went training," he replied, blinking a few more times thoughtfully. "They left just half an hour ago. Miss Robin seemed to be in a good mood. And guess what? Zoro's even smiling more often now!" His pure eyes shone in parallel happiness that things were going so well for the doctor and the blind man.
Feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted, Sanji sighed thankfully. It was the sense of relief that one would get when they'd found they hadn't really failed the most important exam of the year, or one like a successful confession to the girl of his dreams... There wasn't a 'girl of his dreams'. Not now, at least. Maybe the last 'girl of his dreams' was Nami. Maybe it never was any girl he'd ever met. "Thank god..." he whispered.
"Did you forget they have training, Sanji?" Chopper asked brightly.
"Uh, yeah... kinda. I'll... go find Robin during lunch then. Yeah."
"I see, so you were looking for Robin. Would you mind taking those documents back to my room with me please? I need to fill them out."
"Of course!"
This time, Sanji did not go straight to Zoro's ward. Rather, he glanced in, making sure Zoro was there to calm himself. The green haired man was sitting upright by the window, clearly having heard him arrive. Relief washed over him; daybreak in a grey night. Thank god he really was there. The blonde could only marginally hold in the tsunami-esque wave of a will to crash in to the room and hug him to make sure he was real with all his pride of a man. But no, he had to find Robin. "Sorry," Sanji thought guiltily to himself, as he turned to continue on to Robin's office.
"Oi, aren't you supposed to be delivering lunch, you bastard?" The faint sound of the patient's voice came out through the door. The chef stopped in his tracks. He really wanted to go sit with Zoro, he did... but he had to show Robin the note. Letting her know was a priority. But he wanted... Why did he have to be so selfish? Only thinking of himself? Still, he succumbed to the desire to see Zoro, and picked up the man's lunch from the lunch trolley.
Entering, he went straight to the bedside table, putting down the box with the fork on the right. With every step and movement, his eyes did not once leave the blind man. Zoro was radiating, almost, in his seated splendour at the window. "Lunch, shitty marimo." He shoved his hands in to his pockets. He felt embarrassed. This wasn't a thing he'd felt around the blind man before. It was odd, like there was a little angel tickling the foot of his heart with a hairy feather duster; clearing it of the dust so it shone, a crack at a time. His pale fingers curled around the note.
"You scared of coming in or what, shitty cook?" The patient smirked, mocking.
Sanji rolled his eyes. "In your dreams, dumb ass. I just needed to go find Robin."
"Then why didn't you just go?"
"Because you wanted your lunch, stupid!"
"You stopped by my door before I said anything, idiot!"
Sanji bit his lip, feeling the smooth edges of his incisors on the flesh. "I wanted to see if you were in." He admitted quietly.
The two were silent, Sanji bravely keeping his eyes on the patient even as dutch doll cheeks painted themselves upon his face, and Zoro who pressed the back of a hand to his mouth.
The blind man coughed gently, and spoke as if in a daze. "Hey, don't you need to find Robin? She's in, you know."
"Mm. Yeah. I'll be back then."
In awkward tranquility, Sanji shuffled out the door, and to Robin's room.
He knocked thrice, entered upon a call of approval. The psychologist was standing by her window, sipping a cup of tea, long legs in tight-fitting jeans, positively shining under the now-afternoon sun. "Hello, Sanji." She smiled, putting down her cup.
"Good afternoon, Robin-chwan~" he sang, handing her her lunch. She took it, thanking him profusely, but set it aside as he pulled the scrap of paper from his pocket.
"I found this in Zoro's room this morning... I don't think he knows about it though." He said, unfolding the rumpled paper, ironing it out with a thumb before handing it to Robin. Tentatively, she took it, and ran her fingers over the bumps slowly, reading.
Her eyebrows knitted together.
"Sanji, do you understand what this says?" she asked, her voice now with a hint of urgency. Sanji's heart started to race at her voice. Oh god, oh god... "Yes," he answered honestly.
"Do you understand... what situation we are in?"
"Yes."
The woman nodded gravely. "Sanji... you may have to relocate somewhere safer, near the police station... We can't be sure if this letter is from Zoro's true friends, or if someone's just leading him in to a trap." She picked up her phone and dialled in a number, holding the phone to her soft pink shell ear as she stared hard at Sanji who fidgeted from one foot to another. "Ace? Ace, it's Robin. We've gotten a note warning Zoro to leave..."
The hospital was in danger. So was he, Sanji. But would he still be able to work at the Baratie? He could never leave the Baratie, not until he was ready to open his own restaurant, his All Blue. The dream that yesterday seemed so close at hand now felt a thousand miles away, blocked by the black thorns of danger that had roused from their predicament.
"... What are you saying? We cannot move the entire hospital population to a new location! It's too obvious, and that would be disruptive to our patients and their families! ... ... You know Zoro, Ace. We can't move him anywhere. ... My house... that is a possibility... Yes, tell Smoker to up the security. At the hospital? I will tell you what Zoro prefers, so I shall call again later. It is his choice."
Firmly, the psychologist called off. "Sanji... We need to try transfer Zoro to my home."
"No thanks." The green haired man replied bluntly.
"I believe it is better for you to reside at my home for a while, though. After all, your body is at peak conditions so you can devotedly focus on your training while I take in account your progress." Robin contradicted, putting a hand to her hip.
She couldn't tell Zoro the real reason why he had to, needed to migrate from the hospital to the safety undercover of her villa. Instead, she had told him that she wanted to assess him one on one as he worked. If only convincing the blind man to change his mind from the first answer he gives was an easy task... It would be unethical to physically move the man herself. In the Thousand Sunny, patients always came first. If they didn't want to do something, so be it, unless it was vital - because their mental welfare was of a thousand times the value of a diamond ring.
Yet she was afraid that anything could happen to Zoro while he was alone at her place. She still needed to work, being the only psychologist of the compact, cosy hospital. Conflicted. Zoro's presence in the hospital would bring everyone under fire of the 'boss'. But it was unfair for him too; being made to move to her home whilst she secluded him, sealed him off and away from the one place he had come to call... home.
"Why can't we just do that here, then?" The man asked, with no spiteful intention alas somewhat rudely.
"There is no space for you to wield your swords in this environment." She said blankly.
"Can't we just stick to doing the usual?"
"Ah, but you need to stay..."
"I'm perfectly fine, anyone could see that." Zoro snorted.
Sanji stood alone by the doorway as he watched the two battle it out. He pushed back his hair as his eyes wandered mindlessly around the ward room, a few fine strands flopping back over his forehead. His gut feeling was telling him that Zoro was now suspecting that he and Robin were both trying to get him away from the hospital. Which was, in half their actual reason, true. He must feel angry, he thought. Angry, feeling rejected because we're trying to make him leave.
"I'm not going." The green haired man concluded sourly, folding his muscular arms tightly.
"... Please, Zoro..."
"What are you so desperate about? Huh?"
"... Alright."
"..."
"We'll do the assessment here." Robin sighed sadly.
She turned to leave, looking to Sanji. Their gaze held for a brief few seconds. Her face was poignant, eyes seeming to ripple with desolation, crying out in mute agony, and lips set in a glum frown. From that simple glance came a million words that swept Sanji's mind; "He needs to go to my house", "He isn't safe", "Everyone else", "If only", and tearing the chef's heart in two - "I cannot even protect my son". Their plan had not worked. Before entering Zoro's room, the two had come to a decision that if Zoro refused to relocate, then they could only increase security. It was a perilous bet, with every patient's lives dangling off a thread of silk, ready to snap with a single flick.
The blonde involuntarily gripped his chest. How could it be, that so much could be expressed without words? Pain. Guilt. Powerlessness. Robin's feelings were overlapping with his own, equal ones, doubling the sorrow. The length of time his partiality towards Zoro had existed was shorter than the psychologists'. It was of a different kind. And although he couldn't quite tell why...
It hurt so much more.
Robin swept past, elegant as ever, yet her head hung like she was heading to an execution of a loved one. Suddenly, Sanji felt a jolt in his heart. "Wait, Robin-chwan!" He blurted out, surprising himself.
She stopped, turning her head ever so slightly an angle where he wouldn't be able to see her face, long midnight hair slipping over her slim shoulders. "Yes?" She replied quietly. No, no, I didn't mean to call for you, wait...
"Would you mind if I changed from morning and afternoon shift to night?" Sanji felt his mouth say, heard his own voice reverberate through his throat. What was he saying?! Why would he even do that; he had to work in the Baratie!
"That's fine. I will tell Terracotta for you then."
"Uh, well, thank you..." He babbled.
He couldn't say 'never mind!' all of a sudden there, could he? Not with Robin's emotions on turmoil. Now wasn't the time to joke around. But what the hell was wrong with him?!
He watched as the woman walked down the corridor, her lone figure in the empty hallway. A lonely goddess. He wished he was as close to her as Nami, so he could just reach out and give her a comforting hug for the two of them. Promise her that he'd try his best to convince Zoro anyhow. "Hey, shitty marimo..." Cautiously, he walked over and gently touched the blind man's hunched shoulder.
Zoro shrugged him off crossly. "Was that why you were looking for her?" he hissed. "To get rid of me?"
"What? No! I just wanted to show her... some papers." The chef sat down beside the blind man at the window. "We'd never want to lose you..." he mumbled.
Zoro visibly relaxed, shoulders sagging, letting his mossy head droop as he breathed out, like he had been bottling up the tension within for ten years. As Sanji watched, he felt a tightening in his stomach. That Zoro, despite trying to keep everyone as distant from him as possible, would become so agitated when a person he felt close to wanted him away from where he felt most comfortable, safe. He was so strong... Yet could shatter with a single action. He stood on solid feet... Yet was unbalanced. It must be from losing his family and friends in the village massacre... Sanji thought. He wanted to guard the blind man, more than himself, more than everything he possessed.
He would make up for the things Zoro never had.
He would make up for the things that Zoro suffered from.
He would let Zoro know that he was impeccable to him, that he wasn't a demon, that he wouldn't leave.
And now he finally understood -
He wanted to stay work during the night because not only was it safer for him... but also to watch over the one he had accidentally...
Devoted himself to.
After that day, Zoro could hear more footsteps around the hospital. He could sense people he didn't know hanging around everywhere in the hospital... not even in the rooms, but just still. He felt their energy - strong, yet not powerful like Sanji or himself. The atmosphere was heavy, pressuring him, weighing down on his chest like he was in the depths of a pitch black ocean. What was going on? Why would no one tell him? The other patients took no heed of the new presences. Why did he have to act like one of them, be treated that way? He knew, Robin knew, Chopper, Sanji, Luffy, everyone... they all knew that he noticed things more than others.
So he tried to ask the psychologist. She claimed to not know.
She was lying, but he couldn't prove it.
He waited anxiously for Sanji that afternoon instead, listening to each tick of the clock, each sound of footfall outside his door. He had heard clearly that Sanji was to change shifts... but he just hoped that his new routine would start tomorrow. Any other day. The green haired man just really wanted the man there that day. It was impossible to deny that he honestly wanted to have the man by his side, not just to ask about the new people. The chef didn't tell him much, he never did, but he knew how to make him feel like it truly was alright. Around Sanji, he felt like no one could hurt them. But he hated not knowing what was going on - especially around Sanji.
The sharp sounds of dress shoes walking and the same wheeling noise growing nearer from across the hallway crept in to his ears. Sanji! Zoro stood, and put a hand to the wall, guiding him through the room. He stood by the bedside table and the bed, awaiting the sounds of footsteps right outside his door.
Tap, tap, tap, tap. They stopped, followed by the creaking of the door. "Lunch, marimo!" the chef's baritone voice hollered. The blind man cringed at the volume, but stayed silent as Sanji walked over and placed the box on the table beside him. He listened to the crisp crinkling of the man's shirt as he bent over and straightened back out, his soft breathing.
"Hey, what's with all the new people in the hospital?" Zoro asked out in to the nothingness he saw.
Breathing sounds stopped. An airy rustle of hair. Then a hollow intake of breath, released laboriously, slowly. "Is there now?" Sanji said in an overly cheerful voice.
That sound of his voice, the tone... The left side of his chest numbed. Why? Why did he have to not tell him? Heat flared up in his head. Sanji... he trusted him... was the trust not mutual?
He reached out to the cook and grabbed the man's shirt collar, pulling him up so they were face to face, feeling the other man gasp against him, struggle. How he wished he could see Sanji's face... just once, even in his dreams... Because although people forgot their dreams, he just knew he would never forget the chef's face.
"Why are you keeping something from me?! Why is no one telling me what's happening?! Stop... Stop lying to me!" He yelled. His own deep voice was etched with the sadness he wished didn't show. Out of self frustration, he curled his fists in to the chef's shirt tighter.
The smooth, firm skin of Sanji's hands slid over his. "Oi, put me down..." Sanji said wearily. His breath stroked Zoro's lips, warm. The blind man felt the heat of his anger rapidly transfer from his head to his cheeks. Momentarily embarrassed, he automatically loosened his grip on the man. Those strange emotions he kept feeling around Sanji... they were such a bother to him, making him feel so self conscious. He didn't know what was happening to himself inside - he felt he was an amateur to emotions, finally slipping from the heartless demon he had been for his entire life.
A whetted blow knocked the blind man off his feet. A hand forcing him backwards as he fell, pulling Sanji down with him. His heart gave a shocked thud of protest, and he landed on his back ironically hard on the soft mattress. Sanji fell on top of him with a grunt, his seemingly slim body warm on his stomach and legs, but just as quickly as that fall had happened, the irritated bundle of Sanji was off him, leaving just the aftertaste of secret enjoyment of the proximity of their each other's warmth.
Zoro felt the cook lean over him, and a hand was roughly slapped to the side of his neck. He snarled, still feeling closed away from the matters.
"It's OK, it's OK... Dammit... You don't need to worry, alright?"
He grabbed Sanji's wrist. "All everyone does is lie! I know! I know when something isn't right! Am I still like any other so-called, fucking disabled?"
"You're different!" Sanji shouted, loud and clear above Zoro. "You're not the same! You're better, you asshole, you're sincere and you're... You're you! If anything ever happened... I'll stay with you, got it? It doesn't matter what it is. I'll be there. So you know it's fine."
Zoro turned his head to the side and bit the inside of his chapped lips, feeling the bedsheets of water cold against his hot cheek. "Don't..." He was angry, furious that he wouldn't tell him... but he was happy. Touched, that Sanji would be willing to be with him... Despite all that he had done before, disregarding his past. Staying with the him of the present day, although he endangered every person he'd known in his worthless life.
The chef's hand left Zoro's neck as he sat up, tame, hearing Sanji stand and straighten his shirt before sitting beside him, his weight sinking the mattress. They were silent, thoughtful, before the green-haired man asked "Then... why did you change shifts?"
No sound. Just the uncomfortable whispers of the material moving. "The Baratie's less active during the night now." He heard Sanji say hesitantly.
In the end, he still wouldn't tell him the truth. "I don't believe that..." He sighed, and turned his back to the chef. He hated it, hated it so much...
"Why?" Sanji asked softly.
"Your voice tells me."
Was it too much to ask for? A genuine answer? To be lied to... by Sanji... It hurt more than swords being impaled in to his body.
Once again, the two said nothing. Zoro tucked a knee to his chin, letting the other dangle off the side of the bed. Sanji sat with both feet planted apart firmly on the ground, hands clasped between his knees. Head drooped, staring at his hands as he took them apart and stared at the palms. The afternoon light coming from the large window was no longer a warm ochre tone. It was grey-tinted, serene and sleepy. "Hey marimo. What's it like, 'seeing' people. You know, recognising them?"
Zoro's head raised, and turned himself. "Each face... is different in their own way." He chose his words carefully. It was difficult to express what it was like. No two were the same, no matter how similar they seemed. It was like a map, a person's face. Every map was for a different region. Explaining it in words was impossible - it was a tactile exercise.
"Well, what's my face like?"
"... You've got... nice features." Zoro grumbled.
Both men were dusted with pink simultaneously. Their hearts racing to see who's could beat fastest. But Sanji gathered his courage, the courage he'd discarded for so long... and reached out. Took the blind man's face in his hands.
Zoro's heart threatened to leap from his mouth as he felt Sanji's hands on his face. He could feel his own complexion painting itself red, with him trying to flinch away from the man to no avail. "O-oi! That's..." he started, and a thumb ran over his bottom lip, pressing it as if massaging. A tender whine escaped from his parted lips. What was Sanji doing- he didn't even know how to 'see'!
Once again, Zoro could feel the strange emotions boil in him. The same feeling he got when he 'saw' Sanji was now in his face... And it was like autumn had stopped proceeding, the clock had stopped, leaving them in their perfect connection. His senses seemed to block everything out other than the feel of the man's skilful fingers connecting with his skin. Please don't, he thought under his painfully pounding heart. Please, don't... or I'll...
As the chef chastely caressed his face as if holding a large pearl, Zoro was brought to docility. He felt as if all the bad thoughts were flaking away, revealing the two, pure, stainless, innocent. Unconsciously, he settled his hands on Sanji's lean hips that fitted like the two halves of a jigsaw.
"Hey, shitty marimo..." Sanji murmured, focused on Zoro's profile only. "What does it feel like... to be blind?"
Zoro pressed his lips together, and thought as he felt the hands cup his jaw lines. "There's no darkness," He began. "There's no light. It's nothingness, like I've fallen in to a black hole...
"Admitting to blindness is hard. I don't want to be treated in discomfort, I don't want people's pity. I hate that I know so much, and yet nothing... Sometimes I can reform the shapes and colours of things, in my head. But bits and pieces are missing too. It's so frustrating."
Sanji listened intently, running his hands over the bandages. He couldn't understand the world of the blind man... but he felt Zoro's pain.
"Shitty cook... What do you call the colour of the sky?"
"... It's blue. Like All Blue." The chef stopped 'seeing' the patient. The back of his left hand stroked the smooth skin of Zoro's cheekbone. "Blue... like my eyes."
