The creaking timbers of the ship rocked in tempo with the rise and fall of the swelling sea. The Thousand Sunny was cruising along in the hot wind of the summer waters of the Indian Ocean. The past few days had been calm; after the turmoil of the typhoon, few ships were on the sea as they recuperated.

"Nami-sis, we need to stop at an island to fix the Sunny up a bit," Franky called from his workshop. The space was cluttered with barrels and buckets of paint and tar, sheets of glass carefully wrapped in soft cloth and burlap sacks, and other materials. "We didn't have time at the last port because of a certain someone, and an uninhabited island would be good so the last fiasco won't be repeated. The Sunny's crying right now!"

Nami flipped through her maps, wincing as she saw another fleck of paint flying away on the wind. "There should be a small island in the south. There doesn't seem to be a city marked on the map, but there might be a small unmarked village. How does that sound?"

"Super!"

(A/N: C'mon, it's Franky. How could I not put that in there?)

"Aw, Nami, that sounds boring," Luffy whined as he hung from the railing upside-down. His head hung down as his neck stretched, and Usopp was painting it in a giraffe-skin pattern. "Look! I'm a giraffe! Kirin, kirin!"

"Yohoho, you strongly resemble that young man I parried with! Quite a fighter, and a Zoan-fruit user to boot!" Brooke chuckled jollily. "He almost killed me! But of course, I've already died! Yohohoho, Skull joke!"

Sanji swept out of the kitchen, carrying his customary tray of fruity beverages for the ladies, and served his load with a flourish. "Jellied peaches with clear rum and cream for my lovely blossoms," he said graciously, arranging an umbrella so that Nami, Vivi, and Robin were shaded from the sun.

Zoro snored softly under the shade that the deck provided, and Sanji sauntered down holding his tray easily under one arm.

"Marimo-kun, you shouldn't sit in the shade," Sanji chided him mockingly, tapping the man softly in the side where the swordsman wasn't bandaged. When Zoro raised an eyebrow in sleepy irritation, Sanji chuckled. "If you want to photosynthesize properly, you should be in the sunlight."

"You picking a fight, question mark?"

Sanji flopped down beside Zoro on the cool grass, much to Zoro's surprise.

"Marimo," Sanji murmured softly, looking at the clear blue sky in pleasure. "No wonder you sleep here all the time. It's lovely."

Zoro peered at the cook peculiarly. "Did you eat one of those weird durian fruits, to be so addled? Maybe it's the heat. Definitely the heat."

"Shut up and enjoy my company."

They lay there quietly, in a quiet and secluded bubble away from the other crewmembers. It was one of those rare moments that Zoro felt that he could talk about anything with the normally irritable cook, and he was sure that Sanji felt the same.

"Hey, cook…" Sanji looked up to see Zoro peering at him with a most unusual look on his face. He couldn't quite place the emotion in that face, darkened by exposure to the sun and weathered by sea-spray. "What are you fighting for?" Zoro asked simply.

Sanji puffed on his pipe, staring at the sky. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Luffy wants to be the Pirate King, but why do you follow him so ardently?"

Sanji shifted his position, thinking back to the first time he had met the energetic man.

Sanji sat by himself away from the other orphans. The monastery he lived at was not lacking in anything that a growing child needed to survive—food, water, shelter, and lessons from the grumpy old monks—but the company was severely lacking. There was a large group of orphans living there, to be sure, but they all shunned him. They mocked his bright "pee-yellow" hair and his "snail-eyebrow." His pale skin was "Like a geisha!" The other children had rarely ever been physical with him, but now that they were beginning to grow up with little chance of being adopted, puberty was hitting and the other boys were getting rougher. Sometimes he'd be in the bath and he'd be pushed across the slippery floors; at other times, he would be playing by himself and find himself elbowed or kicked by a passing group of children.

The only comfort he had was in his chores; the old monk, Zeff, knew his pain—it was Zeff who had brought Sanji to the orphanage. There were rumors that the cranky old man wasn't ethnically Japanese—but in his old age, who could really tell anyway? The chef made scrumptious meals with the monastery's sparse budget, and even the head monk wouldn't speak against such earthly pleasures. Sanji was allowed to learn from Zeff, in exchange for an unspoken agreement that he would replace the old man once he kicked the bucket.

"You grew up in an environment where lust is pretty much banished, yet you're such a womanizer," Zoro said dourly. "Ironic."

"Let me finish reminiscing, you aho."

Sanji had been washing crusty old dishes in the courtyard when he saw a small hand gripping the wall tightly. He stared in wonder; the walls were high enough to keep intruders out and small children in, but the hand couldn't have been larger than his own. He saw a flash of bright yellow and his heart leapt for a moment—the idea that someone else could have the same blond hair as he did made him feel a little better about himself. He sighed when he saw the normal shade of black hair sticking out from under the yellow. The kid was wearing a straw hat.

"Whatcha doing?" the kid asked, picking his nose as he hung from the wall.

"Washing dishes. How'd you get up there?" Sanji asked, staring.

"I stretched. See?" The boy pulled his cheeks apart, grinning as Sanji gaped in astonishment. "But don't tell anyone 'cuz Shanks told me to keep it a secret. I'm Monkey D. Luffy. What's your name?"

"S-sanji," he sputtered.

"Got a last name?" Luffy asked curiously.

"Nah. I dunno who my parents are," Sanji said morosely. "I'm…an orphan."

"Humm…that won't do. I'll see you later!" Luffy jumped back down on the other side of the wall, and Sanji sighed.

"This is the most boring anecdote I've ever heard. Who tells a story about washing dishes?" Zoro grumbled.

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there…"

Sanji waited in excitement for a few days, but gradually accepted that the boy wasn't going to return. He had been able to endure the jabs that the others had made at him for that long. It wouldn't kill him to wait a little longer.

Then, one day, the normally silent monastery was disturbed by a great ruckus. The monks were practically running everywhere, cleaning and neatening up the place.

"What's going on?" Sanji asked, tugging on Zeff's belt.

The old monk looked down at Sanji with a slight smile. "An old friend of mine is coming to visit. Of course, they don't know that, but he's a pretty well-known merchant."

They turned to see the great walls of the temple opening, to reveal two figures. One was tall and slightly lopsided—he was missing an arm. The other was short and grinned excitedly as he looked around, his straw hat stark against his black hair.

"See, I told you I'd find the right temple!" Luffy pouted, looking up at his idol. Shanks grinned as he rubbed the boy's head.

"Yeah, but it took you days to find it again. Just what were you doing, coming all the way out here?" Shanks laughed.

Sanji stared. The man's hair was red.

"Look! It's him! C'mon, Shanks!" Luffy cried, dragging the other man. "Sanji! Sanji!"

Sanji walked forth slowly, mouth slightly open. "What're you doing here, Luffy?"

"I told you I'd be back! This is Shanks, my dad. Well, technically, my foster dad," Luffy rambled on. "But it doesn't really matter, 'cuz he's Shanks."

"Zeff!" Shanks approached the cook with his hand outstretched. "It's been a long time, friend. I didn't know you were still alive, poisoning people with your cooking. Only ascetic monks could stand your food."

"Shut up, you giant eggplant. We're only friends because we're both missing limbs," Zeff grumbled. "What brings you around here? I thought you lived on another island."

"My boy here wanted to bring me here for…well, you can probably guess." Shanks looked around. "Is he the only child?" he inquired, gesturing to Sanji.

"No, the others are playing. Why?"

Shanks took Zeff aside, and Sanji kept staring at the bouncing boy before him.

"I tooold Shanks that I knew where it was, but he kept saying 'Nooo, it's impooossible for you to have travelled on another island when you can't even swim, nya.' He's so mean sometimes."

"But…why are you here?" Sanji couldn't fathom why they'd travel all this way.

"Well, you're an orphan right? How'd you like a new last name?" Luffy said nonchalantly. "Mugiwara Sanji. How's that sound?"

Sanji stared, then turned red. "That's not funny, you shitty bastard." He'd often heard Zeff saying those words when he accidentally messed up on a recipe.

Luffy stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean? I'm serious. I want you to be part of my family. We may not be blood—"

"How can you just come in here and…and…adopt me like some dog?" Sanji cried. He had wanted to have a family for so long, but the parents that came in always ignored him, looking for 'normal' children. "I can't leave, I have a duty here! Once the old man—"

"I'll live for a long time, baby eggplant," Zeff interrupted, limping over with Shanks. "Shanks here has just filled me in. You sure you want this little bugger?"

Shanks nodded. "I trust Luffy's instincts. I'm always open to new members of the family—you know that, Zeff. Remember…?"

"Aye, I remember. That lass, your last letter said that she's adjusting well, isn't she?"

"She's fitting in quite well now that she's away from the bad influence of those other children. Poor child."

Sanji walked out of the monastery after bidding Zeff a tearful goodbye. He couldn't believe that he was now Mugiwara Sanji.

"So…he just walked in, adopted you, and walked out?" Zoro asked incredulously. "But his surname is Monkey. Are you a Monkey or a Mugiwara?"

"I know, I still can't believe it myself. I thought they were weird, to do stuff like that, but then…well, things with that family were always weird. I got used to it. But if it wasn't for Luffy, I'd still be stuck at that monastery, cooking for old farts that can't tell the difference between herbs and spices. As for the surname…well, no one really bothers with it. It's more of a spiritual connection or something, you know? We don't have to call each other the same thing to feel bonded."

"That's just like Luffy, to do something like that. What happened after you were adopted?"

"Well, that's when I met Nami, too. I owe him forever for introducing me to such a lovely maiden." Sanji began puffing smoke hearts from his pipe as he giggled. "She had been adopted by Shanks, too. I was never too close to Shanks, though. He left a little while after I had come to the household."

"Where did he go? Japan's not very big, after all…"

Sanji looked at him in surprise. "You've never heard of Red-haired Shanks? One of the most famous pirates sailing the seven seas?"

Zoro stared. "I've heard of officers disappearing while pursuing him. For Luffy to be brought up by a pirate like that…wasn't his grandfather in the bakufu? What happened then?"

Sanji shuddered. "Garp took care of us for a time. Those were the scariest years of my life. We grew up pretty fast under his wing, and we all moved out of the house very quickly. Nami and I started the Baratie restaurant, and Luffy…well, Luffy kind of just did his own thing with Ace."

Zoro mulled over this new information, turning Sanji's story over in his mind. "This Ace character—what's he like? Is he ruthless or cruel? Or more like Luffy?" Zoro tried not to be biased, but he was unwilling to be anything but biased against a Whitebeard pirate.

Sanji shook his head emphatically. "Oh, he's quite different from Luffy, but he's not cruel at all. He's playful but can be serious when the situation calls for it. He's rather mature as well. He's even intelligent. In other words, almost completely opposite to Luffy."

Their little powwow was interrupted when Luffy landed on them in a pile of wet paint and laughter.