14
The next morning found Sanji rushing from yesterday's last period to the office's Lost and Found, searching for the sweater. He'd taken it off in his last class, sure he'd left it atop of his messenger bag when he'd tromped off to a project away from his desk, and hadn't given it a thought when he'd left, certain he'd had it in his bag. Lost in thought over upcoming homework and frustrations over home life, it had slipped his mind until he started a load of laundry, finding it missing. But as one spot after another told him it was missing, he started to think that maybe Law had changed his mind and snatched it back – while this seemed plausible, he just wanted to make sure that he hadn't left it anywhere.
In the morning rush of kids hurrying to first period, he hurried about, not looking forward to spending another moment in the unforgiving freeze of the air conditioner. He figured Law was set to give his back, so he was counting on that as he headed towards that class. As he passed through the crowded hall, though, one kid pushed away from his locker and stood in his path with a frown.
Sanji paused in mid-step, and immediately scowled once he recognized Sabo. He instantly grew tense and set himself into a defensive stance because there was only one reason why Luffy's older brother would position himself that way. He remembered tripping Luffy in mid-run yesterday, laughing because the kid had his hands full with bags of snacks, hitting a trash can on his way down – running off once the kid jumped back to his feet. Yeah, the kid kicked his ass, but that didn't mean Sanji was afraid of him. Yeah, he could stop his tormenting, but he was still sore about getting his ass kicked, so the cycle continued. Plus, he wasn't going to back down because he got his ass kicked, because that was only showing weakness. So it made absolute sense for one of Luffy's brothers to step in for him because of his actions.
He glanced around just to make sure Sabo was on his own – it was uncanny how many kids banded together in support/defense of each other when it came to facing off with a Vinsmoke. How could Ichiji ever think that there was any possibility of them being regarded as 'weak' when it took a group of them to face them?
"What?" he snapped, fists at the ready.
Sabo just gave him a cautious stare before holding his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "I'm not going to fight you."
"Yeah, right. Like this is just a courtesy thing," Sanji said, smirking. "Get it over with. I don't want to be late for class. I've got shit to do."
Sabo said nothing, puzzled, but he held up the sweater he pulled from his locker, still neatly folded. Once he recognized it, Sanji grew even more suspicious, glancing around again, looking for a trap.
"You are rather high-strung, aren't you?" Sabo asked with concern. "I just thought you wanted this back. It's…yours, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it's mine! Why did you take it from me?"
"I…didn't take it from you," Sabo said with caution, puzzled by the accusation. "I'm just giving it back. I don't expect anything from it."
"Nothing's for free, nowadays. What's the catch?"
"Nothing. Just…here." Sabo tossed it to him, Sanji catching it and giving another glance around. "All this fuss over a garment."
"How did it get into your hands in the first place? Someone snatched it from me, and now I'm expected not to think there isn't a catch?" Sanji asked, looking it over with extraordinary distrust. He looked for stains, tears, sabotage of some kind, and even sniffed it to make sure it wasn't assaulted by something smelly. He checked the pockets, the sleeves for hidden pins – something that would indicate a trap.
Sabo was insulted by the intensive investigation, the first bell ringing shrilly. He had to wonder if Ichiji had said anything to Sanji about yesterday's confrontation. It didn't look as if Sanji was even aware of that, considering how much suspicion was given to the sweater. It made him wonder if Ichiji was working independently, but that didn't make any sense; surely, brothers born on the same day communicated everything to each other. He knew he couldn't go through a day without knowing everything about Luffy's and Ace's day, and they weren't that closely related.
But at the same time, he wondered if Ace was telling the truth; were these two boys actually sneaking around together, and the Vinsmokes trying to put a stop to it? They were awfully hateful. He was going to give this theory the benefit of a doubt, because Sanji honestly looked puzzled with Sabo having the sweater in possession, and Ace did find himself in convenient places to hear much of the school's gossip.
"What did you do to it?" Sanji asked, still not trusting it.
"I didn't do anything to it. I…it…I just thought you'd want it back after it went missing. I'm quite aware that it's really not yours."
"It is mine!" Sanji insisted, vaguely embarrassed. "What, are you suggesting it's not? That I stole it? I didn't steal it!"
"Calm down. Jeez. There you go, you have it back. That's all."
Sanji still regarded him with suspicion, finding nothing wrong with it. But he didn't understand why this gesture was being given to him, and he still had hesitations thinking that it was being returned to him 'just because'.
"You're welcome," Sabo said sarcastically, shutting his locker after retrieving his books. "But for what it's worth, you're still not off the hook for that kid's face."
Sanji scowled, reddening a little. "What is this, blackmail? You're trying to set me up on something?"
"What's the real story, kid?"
"It's none of your damn business!"
Sabo then shrugged and walked off, Sanji looking after him with a sullen frown. But he hurried off to first period, making it just before the last bell rang, everyone already in their seats. He easily evaded Yonji's attempt to trip him by jumping and then kicking his desk into him, Yonji exhaling heavily as Mr Hansen snapped at both of them, and hurried to his chair.
In the middle of class, he pulled out the folded piece of paper he had in one pocket, smoothing it open to review the contents. It wasn't anything big – just a quick advisement on how to get bloodstains out of fabric. He could see that the stain on Law's sweater was faint, but still there. He figured if he gave Law enough advice to remove the color, he'd get his sweater back. He was really only trying to help himself. Then he brightened, remembering another item he'd brought, and he slapped his bag atop of his desk, digging out the Tide pen he'd brought from home. With the bag positioned as it was, he could apply the pen to the sweater without Niji or Yonji seeing what he was doing.
"Don't move," he said low, Niji laughing nastily as he threw some misogynistic comments at Camie, who looked ready to beat him with her starfish-shaped purse. Law stiffened, shoulder jerking in reaction upon feeling pressure there, Sanji kicking his chair.
"Hold still! It's a Tide pen!" Sanji hissed at him, showing him as Law looked over his shoulder. Sanji then hid it as Niji straightened in his chair. Sanji held still until he was sure Niji hadn't noticed him being sneaky, Law resettling in his seat with a flustered look as he'd confirmed the sight of the pen. Sanji noticed Penguin sneaking a look back at him, so he performed a winding gesture up against his opposite fist, until his middle finger appeared over his bag. Penguin just scowled at him.
"What are you doing, over there?" Niji asked Sanji, craning his neck to see that Sanji was flipping off a boy seated in his row.
"I'm looking for my tampons!" Sanji snapped at him, digging in his bag pockets as Niji scowled at him. "Do you have any I can borrow?"
"What? Fuck no. I hoard mine. Hey, Mr Hansen! Is it true tampons cost more than they should? Why do women cry about it when men have to pay for bandaids whenever they start bleeding?"
When Niji's attention was diverted by the sight of outraged female faces, Sanji started pressing the Tide pen against the stain on Law's sweater – his sweater – and Law was tense, but he just sat stiffly. Sanji did as much as he could until he noticed the time, so he slapped the pen back into his bag, then hastily refolded the paper note. He wrote Law's name on it, crammed the gum wrappers he found his pocket around the note, and rose up from his chair.
He then piled the heap of trash atop of Law's desk, Law making to glare at him until he realized Sanji was patting down the note. Sanji then grabbed his bag and rushed off as the bell rang, Niji yelling after him. Law looked down at the wadded piece of paper with his name on it, unsure of what sort of face to make. But he piled the mound of trash over his notebook, and as everyone filed out, he threw away the gum wrappers, and pocketed the note. He opened it at his locker to see that it was instructions on how to get the stain out; he grabbed his books and walked off to the bathroom, taking off the sweater and looking at it. All he saw were vague wet spots over the stain, and so he scrubbed it in the sink, adding hand soap to do so. The stain did fade even further, and he examined the job carefully, before wringing it out as best as he could and tying it around his waist.
He made to walk out before he remembered the note, and grabbed that from the sink. More than likely, Sanji was only making these efforts to get his sweater back, and not engage into outdated means of communication. But once he settled in the empty classroom, he smoothed the paper out over his desk and crossed over the neat print, writing along the edges. He refolded it, and slipped it into his pocket.
At lunch time, knowing where every Vinsmoke's lockers were located – survival instinct to avoid these places – he slipped the note into Sanji's locker and went off to have a smoke.
When Sanji found the note returned, he opened it with his arms shoved deep into his locker, pressing the unfolded paper up against the back wall. He scowled at the content – "It worked, but it's still mine" - found a pen, and crossed out Law's message, to write in open spaces with red ink. He then refolded it into a tight ball, grabbed his things, and made his way towards the library. He could hear Luffy making his way down, so Sanji started looking for an opportunity. Once he found one, he ducked into the library, hurled the note at Law standing near one of the shelves – making sure to hit him – then was out fast enough to threaten Luffy with a trip. Luffy caught sight of him, made to avoid the threat, and dropped a package of chips as he cursed Sanji fiercely. Sanji snatched the bag and hurried off, Luffy running after him furiously, Crocodile catching sight of them. He barked at both of them to stop running, then demanded a reason behind Luffy's pile of snacks while Sanji slipped into his classroom, free. He sat down, heart racing unexpectedly, wondering if Law would respond to his note. He crunched on his chips noisily, unaware of how annoying he was being to others around him while he thought about this.
In the library, Law rolled his eyes at the scrawled print, pulling out his pen from his pocket. He scratched out Sanji's, "You want to wear my clothes so bad, just ask for my donations," then wrote, "b/c everyone wants to know where I shop for little girl clothes."
On his way to his history class, Law slipped the note back into Sanji's locker and continued on, shaking his head. What the fuck am I doing? He thought of himself, unable to understand why he was doing this, when his brain told him he should've just thrown the thing away. He was doing the very opposite thing he'd vowed to do, and it made him feel guilty. Then he supposed he'd figure it out once he heard a response from Sanji; after that, he would for sure just tear up the note and throw it away.
For last period, Sanji retrieved his note and took it with him to his last class. He sat down at his desk without pulling his bag away from him and read the newest content, then looked outraged. He scratched out the answer, using the back of the paper to write a new line. On his way to the bathroom, he slipped the note into Law's locker and hurried off, burning with embarrassment.
At the end of the day, Law shoved his books into his locker, found the note, and read the back. "Probably under all that thrift store trash, you are a girl!" He wanted to get out of there as soon as he could to avoid another situation like yesterday, but he wrote a response: "Which is why you keep picking on me, b/c you're fucking confused." He slipped that into Sanji's locker and hurried home the long way, very wary of Ichiji popping out from the shadows around him.
Sabo passed Ace ten bucks, sighing heavily while Ace grinned, pocketing it.
The next morning, Sanji found the note, and read it, turning bright red after it registered. He slashed his red pen over the entire back. Then took a quick bathroom pass to run down to the gym. He wadded the paper up, venturing in to look for the older kid. He saw that they were all lined up to watch Garp perform one-armed pushups, all of them complaining about it, so he then turned and headed for Law's locker. He crammed the note into the slot, then hurried back to class.
When Law opened his locker and saw the wad of paper sticking out, he pulled it out and opened it up to see 'FUCK U' scrawled over it, in savage strokes that tore through the thin paper. He shrugged, tore up the note, then tossed it into the trash on his way to class.
Behind him, Ichiji made to retrieve the torn shreds when the entire trash can was kicked out from his reach, and he growled, looking over to seeing Shachi give him a nervous look, slinking away. Because the sound caused Crocodile to look over, Ichiji strode away. Not even moments later, Penguin dashed by, grabbed the pile, stuffed it into his pocket and joined Shachi as they quickly headed to class.
Sanji fumed the rest of the day. He was not 'confused' – confused meant that he didn't know what he was doing, and he knew exactly what he was doing. There was a person in his life that kept challenging him, and he was responding because why should he remain silent? He'd never remained silent on anything in his entire life!
And how could Law even say that Sanji was picking on Law because he was 'confused'? This wasn't that situation at all! Law was only saying that because of the stupid phone incident, so of course he'd hit low just to prove a damn point.
But not only that, why even say that? Why even go that route? Why try and flatter himself, suggesting that Sanji was picking on Law because he was 'confused'? Law was not his type! If Law was his type, then Sanji would not be doing all these outrageous things to get his attention – he'd certainly treat a guy a lot differently if he were trying for attention. After all, what made Law think he even had a chance with Sanji? His background, his entire makeup was everything Sanji looked down upon. He would never give a guy like Law a second look, and he felt like slapping him for even making Sanji think like this.
After all, Law was poor, he wore second-hand clothes, he never fixed his fucking hair, he had three black heads on his left cheek and one glaringly obvious white head near his right hairline, and don't even get Sanji started on the ones he could see just inside the collar of his shirt, where the uniform fabric captured the most sweat. Plus, Law's nails were gross, and he had such femmy hands, and Sanji bet he didn't brush his teeth because he talked away from people rather than at them – considering that they were smokers, of course Law had nasty breath, because Sanji never saw him chewing gum, and –
Then, his sweater smelled like cigarettes and BO and Sanji couldn't stand it – plus, his speech impediment made it difficult to understand him, sometimes, and Sanji wanted to yell at him to speak up or repeat himself, or just spit out the words and quit stuttering; also, he had this habit of slouching, and crossing his arms, and he never smiled or shifted expression and always looked like his puppy had just died right in front of him –
Also, Sanji added to this list, counting off his fingers, his eyes were always so darkly ringed, like he never slept, and he had horrible handwriting and, despite all these ugly physical things, he had people that watched over him like vigilant guardian angels, and a man so lost in his dementia that still remembered to come out and love him, and…
Sanji slumped over his desk, frowning sullenly at the window.
Yes.
Yes he was.
Because everything made sense when it came to wanting Law's attention; to measuring up to his brain, to the constant battling because Law might not stand up to a lot of people, but he sure did hold his ground with Sanji; seeing him treat Rosinante with the utmost care and dignity despite their living situations, and even if Law was all the things Sanji didn't like and noticed constantly, he noticed it all the fucking time. He noticed how thick his black hair was, the color of his eyes, the length of his lashes, those fucking femmy hands, that deceptive slim form holding absurd mannish strength to hold, lift, carry a man bigger than him…
Damn it.
The things Sanji did just wasn't normal to anyone else, and he knew he was out of control with it, but, damn it, he just wanted to be noticed. That was all he could do to explain his outrageous actions. It all made sense, now, the things that he did and how he'd responded to Law, and Sanji was ashamed of himself. Glumly, he covered his head with both hands, then sat straight up with such a pop that kids looked over at him curiously.
Fuck, it all made sense, now. All of it.
He had a crush on the other boy, and it was so fucking obvious - !
He was so mortified.
He was picking on the kid like a little boy would with someone in preschool, or something.
Oh, Sanji was so embarrassed.
"Fucking hell!" he shouted as he stood up in his seat, startling those around him, Zoro snorting out of dead sleep with a spastic jerk. Sanji was sweating, flaming red, and short of breath, and he was sure he was having a panic attack. He heard the teacher call for him as he raced out of the classroom, running for the cafeteria.
Oh, it had been so obvious why he did all these things. Why the hell did he just now notice? Did other people know? Where they talking about him? Is this why Ichiji monitored his every move? Did Law know?
After acquiring a paper bag from one of the startled lunch ladies, he took to a corner of the cafeteria and used it to breathe in, settling his heavy pants, racing heart and sweaty skin. He felt dizzy, almost like he was going to faint. His head buzzed noisily, and he jerked the bag away to try and take deep breaths. Once he was aware of voices behind him, he turned and raced down the hall, ignoring the startled shouts behind him. Running outside, he raced for the concession stand. He stood behind it, and breathed into the bag once more, feeling his heart thunder noisily. Once he had control of himself, he slumped against the wall with a low groan, utterly mortified.
God, he was an idiot.
How could he have not noticed his own fucking behavior?
Was he that far into denial? He couldn't be. He knew what he liked and had some ideas of how to get it, but this was fucking ridiculous. He bumped his head a few times with a fist. Panic raced through him. He had to compose himself. He had to calm himself. He had to put his face back on, and he had to keep this a secret. God, he was horrible with secrets. If he couldn't even hide his feelings, how was he going to hide this?
He crumbled up the paper bag, tossing it through the window of the concession stand, then held onto the edge of the concrete counter, stepping away to look down at the pavement. In that position, he counted the ants at his feet, smushed a few. When he straightened up with an exhale, he was once again looking into Ace's freckled face.
"Problems?" he asked, Sanji purpling as Ace slid the crumpled bag across the surface to him. "Breathe into this."
Sanji mangled some curse words together and raced back to the main building, leaving Ace to stand there with a bewildered look, wondering what alien language he had just used. Once back inside, Sanji hurried back to his classroom, everyone looking at him with immense confusion and disgust at his disheveled appearance.
"It's okay!" he called, waving his arms about. "I had a panic attack. Tweet it, snap it, kik it, blog it, whatever, I don't give a fuck, but make sure you tag it so I can approve of it."
"Thank you, Mr Vinsmoke, for sharing that information with us," Ms Kalifa said dryly, pushing up her glasses. "That was very brave of you. May I resume teaching, now?"
"Carry on," Sanji said with a dismissive sigh, sinking back into his chair, pushing his hair from his face. "I'm working hard towards my first heart attack, and I must say, it's working splendidly."
"You're such a spaz," Zoro told him from nearby, shaking his head.
"Shut up, moss! I hope to be dead by the end of second semester! My plan is working brilliantly!"
Zoro rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair.
But Sanji stared out the window once more, pulling at the collar of his shirt in an effort to generate some cooling effect against his sweaty skin. Fuck, he was pissed. How did he not notice? He wondered what he was going to do with this acknowledgment. He had to hide it from Law. If Law knew, he'd probably tell everybody, and - !
No, Law wouldn't. He'd probably be mortified, too, knowing that this was the reason behind Sanji's meanness. Oh, Sanji couldn't have Law finding out. It would probably prompt him to run away again, escaping to the streets just to escape him. He kicked the chair in front of him with frustration, Shirohoshi giving a sharp cry and a small sniffle.
After school, Sanji ran for his locker. He couldn't look at Law, not right now. Not at this moment. He would probably 'spaz' out on him and say all the wrong things, and he really needed to get himself composed and centered and train himself to not be so fucking obvious for first period, tomorrow! He flung all his books into the locker, grabbed what he needed, and then raced out to the parking lot.
Ichiji was waiting for him, and he gave Sanji a dull stare as his younger brother reached him, panting heavily.
"Gross," he commented, disgusted at the sight of his sweatiness.
"Shut up. I had a panic attack in the middle of class."
"This semester that hard on you?"
Sanji nodded, throwing his bag onto the ground, digging for his cigarettes. After he had one lit, he sat down on the grass instead of the table, Ichiji lowering his book to give him a confused look. It was the first time he'd heard of his brother having a panic attack, but he didn't doubt that he had them. It only gave weight to just how 'high strung' he truly was. His eyes fell on the sweater that Sanji still wore, and frowned tightly.
He cleared his throat and set his book aside. "That's not yours, is it?"
"What isn't?" Sanji mumbled around his cigarette, eyes closed as he soaked up the sun and ignored the sounds of people climbing into their car.
"That thing you're wearing."
"You are the second person to ask that, and what the fuck? Why are people noticing what I'm wearing? Of course it's mine!"
"It's much larger than what you usually wear."
"I'm fat, and self-conscious."
Ichiji resisted the impulse to fling his book at the back of his head. "That's not your sweater. Whose is it's?"
"Yonji's or Niji's, I don't know. I did laundry the other night, I must've mixed them up. Who cares?"
"Do you realize what this suggests? Each of you wearing each other's clothes?"
"That we live in the same house?" Sanji dashed ashes away and looked over his shoulder at him. "What the fuck."
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. I confronted that boy yesterday, and it was Sabo that gave it to you, wasn't it?"
Sanji's lips tightened. Now it made sense. "So, Sabo stole it."
"No, he took it when that kid ran away from me. Him and that Ace fuck interfered."
"It two D boys to get in your face, and you're worried about us not having any power," Sanji snickered, holding the bottoms of his feet together, knees splayed out. "What a loser!"
'This isn't funny! Once dad finds out what you're doing, he's going to - !"
"Oh, what? He took away my phone, he took away my permit, pretty much told me I'm not like the rest of you, and doesn't care about the effort I put into my own work. Trust me, there's nothing more he can do to me, Ichiji."
Ichiji frowned at Sanji's flippant attitude. While it was true, it bothered him that Sanji was not responding to his threat. Had his little brother finally reached a point where openly defying them was his next step?
"Besides, wearing this thing gives me another goal," Sanji said, pulling at it to sniff. He made a face. "I'm going to be tall. That's my goal. If I'm wearing my goal, then I can reach my goal."
"You're obviously brain damaged from that panic attack. You're not thinking clearly. You're not thinking of the consequences to your actions, and you're not aware of how it'll affect our family. That worries me."
Sanji sighed heavily head tilted back with exasperation, but that caused ashes to fall on him, and he hastily swiped at himself to brush it away. He didn't feel like talking anymore to Ichiji about 'family loyalties' when it was obvious none were applied to him. And, besides, if his older brother already knew what he was about, then it was pointless arguing with him; Ichiji was just like one of his grips – relentless, painful and capable of rendering physical harm. He would just have to keep him at a distance, not give him any opportunities, and, for fuck's sake, not give himself away any further.
When they finally arrived home, he went immediately to his room. Exhausted, he threw himself onto his bed without changing out of his uniform, but he did manage to kick his shoes off. He laid there for awhile, facing away from the door, listening to the sound of his brothers' voices, and picked at his duvet. He wished he could talk to his mom or sister about this predicament, but he wondered if they even cared. They probably wouldn't want to hear about it, anyway, considering they had their own problems to think about. They probably thought he was just like his brothers, forceful and misogynic, who thought of women as if they were second class citizens or objects, and he didn't feel enough confidence to even hint that he wasn't.
He sighed heavily, stretching out an arm to pick at another section. He wondered what Law was doing, and if he were truly relieved Sanji wouldn't be around to harass them. He wondered what kind of girls Law liked, but he couldn't imagine how anyone could be attracted to him. That kid was like a walking barbed wire fence; he didn't invite anybody in, even if they smiled and greeted him cheerfully. That kid had so much potential to be noticed, and he didn't even try; that annoyed Sanji, prickling at his nerves with force, and he was jealous because even if Law didn't try, people flocked to him.
Of course, Sanji acknowledged he'd built his own pit with his own actions. He was loud, rude, and made obnoxious comments, and now that he thought about it, he wondered why. But the Vinsmokes had made a name for themselves as being 'terrorists' and he had to fit their mold because it was the world he was shaped in. He had figured along time ago that people didn't like people like him, and there was no changing it.
He wondered what would happen if he changed himself. Then snickered. Like that would happen. People would not give him a chance – they already knew him as is, so what was the point of changing now? As he'd told Ichiji, he didn't care what people thought of him, as they were all temporary. But what if he had a chance to move away from it, become a different person? A second chance at something different. If people didn't know him, then they couldn't peg him as he was now, and he could have a different outcome.
He found himself looking forward to that.
He wondered if Law had these thoughts, or if he were already set in his ways, as well. He wondered what sort of life he'd had to be so closed off; more than likely, with his impediment and circumstances, he wasn't even going to try. When he turned eighteen, what was Law going to do? Run away and live by the river, somewhere? Or run away to a different town and try to start over?
He made a mental note to ask him about it.
He closed his eyes when he heard movement outside his door, frowning. Feeling eyes on him, he waited for whoever it was – most likely Ichiji – to move on and leave him alone. Judge had gone over their evening schedules with them, and Sanji would have to stay home while they went out to their various practices, with Ichiji being the one in charge of dropping off and picking up. Being alone with their dad made Sanji irritated, but he'd just use the time to surf the internet, or something. Look up cooking videos or peruse fashion sites.
He heard movement away from his room, and opened his eyes. He continued thinking about things, picking at the duvet, until Niji posted outside his door and made comments about him being a 'baby' over things, prompting Yonji's response from downstairs, and Sanji was forced to get up and verbally defend himself.
Later on, when it was just him and Judge, Judge asked him to sit in the living room with him to watch the evening news.
"Ichiji told me you had an incident, today," Judge said heavily, as if by doing so, he was beginning an arduous chore. Fox News' anchors launched into loud arguments about current events. "You had a panic attack? He's very concerned about you."
Sanji snorted, rolling his eyes. He combed through his hair with fitful action. "I was freaking out about my grades. I saved myself, though. Ms Kalifa was very impressed. I was angry about getting a 97 when I thought I had scored higher than that, and thought it brought down my average."
"Try and focus a little harder, next time. That's not normal, you know. Your brothers have ways of settling their pre-sports anxieties, perhaps you should talk to them on proper breathing exercises. Making a scene in front of your peers won't give you a reliable reputation," Judge commented idly.
"I don't care what I look like, dad. Nobody cares."
"Well, we do."
"Only because it gives our name a bad, er, name."
"It's worrisome because people will speculate about us in a negative fashion."
Sanji snorted, picking at his pjs. He'd changed into them earlier, knowing he wasn't going anywhere else. "As if they don't already…"
"I don't know what else to do with you. You constantly refuse our help."
"Dad, telling Niji to share his stash with me isn't giving good advice."
"But it might help. And it's not good if you're having anxiety issues over the constant pressure of catching up to your brothers. If you have to try so hard, then give up."
"My grades are just as good, if not better, than the others. Discounting Ichiji, because he's an alien."
"Stop talking badly of him, he only wants to help."
"No, he doesn't, he just wants me to remain miserable."
"That's your own viewpoint. You can be rather dramatic."
"Yeah, well, that's expected of us faggots."
"Don't refer to yourself as one, I won't have it," Judge snapped at him, whapping him on the knee with his knuckles. "All of you must stop staying that of each other! It's repulsive!"
"But it's already been decided, hasn't it? After that stupid thing with my phone!"
"It's a fucking lie, and don't convince yourself that you are! You aren't! You like girls, and that's the end of it."
"Well, they don't like me."
"Because you don't apply yourself properly to them."
"None of us do, all of them hate us at school!"
"It's only for show," Judge said, waving that away. "Once they're older and they see how successful you all will be, complete with our money, they'll be throwing themselves at you. By that time, you'll know what your priorities will be, so you can pick and choose from the bunch of them for someone younger and more impressionable. I don't want any of you making any mistakes so young, so dating right now is forbidden. I suppose it's a good thing they hate you all, then. One less worry for me to have."
Sanji wondered if other parents spoke this way to their kids. He wondered if Doflamingo lectured Law on dating, or if he was one of those 'cool' foster parents that let Law do whatever he wanted, with whomever he wanted. He sullenly watched tv in silence.
"Oh, and the next time you speak with your mother, tone down your complaints," Judge added. "She has expressed concern over your attitude."
"She's my mother, she's supposed to listen to my complaints."
"We wouldn't want her unnecessarily worried. Women tend to fret heavily over things that don't involve them, and their weaker constitutions forces their imaginations to come up with silly things. I don't want the trouble of arguing with her that you are fine."
"It's not like she cares that much, living in another state, and all. Besides, what she going to do, anyway?"
Judge sighed heavily. "Why can't you just agree to agree, and stop finding argument with every little thing?"
"Details, dad, I need details. If I don't ask questions, then what's the point of learning?"
"You can be so difficult."
"Then why don't you sell me, and get a rabbit, instead?"
Judge rubbed his temples, Sanji snickering at his clever use of a movie line. Both of them sat in silence, and Sanji felt uncomfortable doing so. He felt like he had nothing to say to his father, nor feel any inclination in sharing anything with him. His father always led a conversation for him, made him feel worse about himself and never seemed to come up with any compliments or praises for what he did do. He felt invisible, sometimes, or awkward because the things he liked to talk about wasn't something acceptable with Judge. He felt pressure talking to him. So when they fell into silence, Sanji just stared at the tv, wondering what Law and Rosinante talked about when it was just them. He was jealous of their relationship.
"Stop that," Judge said after awhile, Sanji looking at him questionably. "Grinding your teeth."
"I need a smoke."
"Go outside, then. I'm going to call in our order to that Chinese restaurant Yonji likes."
"Can I cook for us, one day?"
"We'll talk about it, then."
Sanji wandered off to do so, heading to the back porch. He wished he had his phone, listening to the neighbors kids play on their trampoline, smelling various grills at work. He thought about what happened today, examining various details and imagining different scenarios. Based off his conversation with his father, there was only one thing left to do.
At lunchtime the next day, he caught up to Law at the baseball field, the kid looking as if he'd missed sleep a week in a row. Lighting up a cigarette, Sanji crouched near the home plate, tracing the shape of it with his thumb as Law yawned quietly from the wooden backboard. With his back to him, Sanji felt better about things. His heart raced nervously, stomach twisting sharply. He wondered why he didn't have any ulcers.
"So, uh, something weird happened yesterday," Sanji muttered to homeplate, still tracing while his cigarette dangled from his mouth.
He didn't hear anything from Law, so he glanced over his shoulder to see if he were even paying attention, or even heard that Sanji was talking. The older kid was looking at his nails, fiddling with his cigarette, wearing eyes so sleepy that they looked in danger of closing at any moment. Sanji wondered if the kid drank coffee. He looked back at what he was doing.
"I know no one will care, or even listen, or whatever, because it's me, and no one wants to hear what I say, or even cares about what I feel, and I know I just totally blast everyone with everything that I think or feel, regardless if people even ask, so I know this one thing won't even matter. But I'm not capable of hiding anything, or even keeping secrets, and it's – like, I'd give myself away, anyway, so it might just be better if I said it out loud and get it over with and just…like, I'm not even expecting things, or even…I'm just going to say it and move on, and it'll be okay, because the things I say don't matter anyway, so, here goes," Sanji said, blasting his words out in a rush, uncaring if they actually resembled a structured sentence, if it even made any sense. He was just going to speak his mind, knowing no one cared to listen.
He took a deep breath and exhaled shakily.
"I like you."
Oh, the words felt so much lighter leaving him, exiting his mind and chest with hot weight that he hadn't even known he'd carried, so when it left him, he had to exhale again, sure that this foreign, uncomfortable feeling was completely gone. But his ears burned and his jaw clenched and his tongue went dry, ashes falling from his cigarette to the dirt, and he heard movement from behind him, but he was scared to see whatever expression was on Law's face.
His heart thundered nervously – he wasn't expecting anything back from the kid, but he knew he needed something in response.
It seemed like forever when Law finally spoke.
"Fucking weirdo," he said before turning and walking away, leaving Sanji to continue sitting there, feeling relieved that this was the answer he'd expected. It didn't make him feel any better, though. It hurt because he knew what Law was going to say, how he was going to react, and he knew, logically, that there was no different answer or response. He expected it, and he received it, and that was how it was. Life wasn't going to change now that it was out there; it would just continue on, being the same.
He brushed his hair from his eyes, staring down at homeplate for a long time. His cigarette finally burned down to the butt, ashes tumbling away, and he thought about how he felt, now. In a way, he was relieved for Law's response, because he spoke what was normal for both of them, and it was a weird situation, and it would be even weirder if something went differently.
But then again, a very small part of him had hoped for something different.
A/N: Okay, I'm officially bushed.
RR: Only when absolutely cornered does a scared animal snap back! ; )
Naghi-Tan: Thanks!
GPEG: Sabo is only concerned about the truth, and since pretty much everyone feels Law is vulnerable and Sanji is so…Sanji…it's hard to think otherwise – sometimes, Sabo doesn't believe how Ace gets all his gossip haha! Ichiji is the like the trusted hitman of a crime family; he's going to clean up the mess to reflect what's 'right'. D:
Snowflake97: Their sneaking around in this chapter certainly didn't catch the notice of others ;D OR SO THEY THOUGHT.