Sanji's Troubles
Chapter 21.
Nami sighed. How to make Sanji accept what she was going to say? How could she even try to convince him how sorry she was?
The only answer was,
She couldn't.
There was no way to make up for what she had done.
But she still had to try.
The red head decided to sort out her thoughts. She wondered, what exaclty is the difference between friendship, nakama, love, and lust? Aren't they the same thing? But no, they weren't, really.
After a few moments of contemplation, she had definitions.
Friendship- A liking of somebody. You trust them.
Nakama- Your shipmates and crew, who you protect and they protect you. Like a very powerful friendship.
Lust- Obsessive desire for someone.
Love- ...
What was love? She knew about crushes, and family love, and stuff like that, but she was thinking of the word if you stripped away family loyalty and lusty emotions. All that you had left was a pure, simple devotion and caring for someone. That was how the crew felt about eachother. They loved everyone, no matter how much they were always fighting. The whole crew loved one another.
Nami thought she understood now. Love didn't have to be dates and kisses, it just meant deep caring. And she deeply cared for the whole ship.
And... they care for me! I can't believe how I let them all down, especially Sanji, who lusts after practically every female he sees, but actually loves everyone on the ship!
Now I know what I have to say.
She pulled out a small tablet of paper and began scribbling down a poem, and placed the finished product next to Sanji's bed.
--ONE OF MY AWESOME LINES!--
Sanji woke up and immidiately was freaked out. Oh no. Where was he?! Calm down, Sanji. You're in your bed. Right.
Once he had established that, he relaxed, and sighed. Until he noticed the paper that said, "To Sanji from Nami."
Ooh! A love letter? For some reason the name Nami made him feel bad, but he wouldn't let himself remember why. The blonde started reading greedily.
LOVE.
By Nami.
If one hears the word LOVE, they always must,
First of all, think of Lust.
But Lust is not what the speaker is meaning,
The listeners say, Friendship, then, right, is how this is leaning?
No, I say, I mean LOVE.
Love? Lust? Friendship?
No. LOVE means you will protect a person you care about. LOVE means your Nakama. LOVE means I'm sorry, for all I do wrong. LOVE is not Lust.
It's LOVE.
Sanji, we all LOVE you on this ship. Please forgive me for the horrible things I've done.
Your Friend,
Nami.
Sanji stared at the paper, rather dissapointed it wasn't really the type of love letter he'd been expecting. Though, according to Nami's theory, what he wanted was more of a lust letter. He was suprised by how heartfelt it was though, even though he didn't want to remember what she was apologizing for.
All of a sudden, he remembered.
The chef was going into shock again. But because of Nami's apology, this time he remembered to breathe.
--LINE--
Luffy skipped cheerfully into Sanji's room, and jumped up on the bed, yelling, "HI SANJI!!"
"..."
"Aw, you're in shock AGAIN?!"
"N-n-no. Just... yeah. I'm in shock."
"Sanji, you're sick! You got a DISEASE!"
"I kn-kn-know."
"I mean, you're really sick."
"I. Know."
"We have to keep you in a warm room where you can be kept happy and warm!"
"...Oh."
"Me, you, Zolo, and Usopp sleep here. Nami sleeps in her own dumb room, and Zeff can sleep anywhere he feels like."
"I want to sleep anywhere I feel like!"
"But you can't."
"Ah, um, why?"
"I don't know."
"..."
"Well, it'll be fun!"
"What. Ever."
"Sanji, I'm real sorry I traumatized you."
"WHATEVER."
Luffy decided that rather than try the infamous number thirty six, he would do number seventy two instead. "Can I hug you, Sanji?"
"Fine."
"Anyway, we don't have to move in with you till tonight, when it's gonna get cold."
"Ok." Luffy read the poem, scanning over the words, bored until he finally got the point. "Hey! Nami's poem is true! I don't have lu-loo-luh-um, loost fot anyone, but I love my nakama!" Luffy hugged Sanji and skipped away, yelling that Usopp had better make some steak 'cause Sanji sure ain't gonna be in cooking shape any time soon.
END.
AN: I want a pet armadillo. Can you pleeeeeeease review chapter seventeen? Cause I like the number seventeen. It's a sexy number.