Corona

by CharlieNozaki

As a murderous monster terrorizes the capital of Wano and its surrounding lands, there are only two strong enough to vanquish the beast: A runaway set on defeating the creature once and for all, and a lost samurai who has lived in shadow for far too long. Together, they must discover the balance between darkness and light, or risk that darkness consuming them both. [Fictional Wano]

4. ACT I: Sunset - PART IV

Author's Note: I apologize to anyone who may take issue with the title of this fic. I named it long before the pandemic, and it ultimately proved to be a bad coincidence. Please know the title has meaning to the story, which, in turn, has nothing to do with the virus situation whatsoever. I would never make light of that. That said, I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy, and I appreciate you checking out my work!

---

It was strange, traversing the forest again by himself. In a way, it was like the past few days hadn't happened. Sanji was alone, and perhaps he'd never found Wano. Perhaps all of this had been a dream, and he was still on his own, wandering without aim, his only desire to put as much distance between him and his former kingdom.

If it weren't for the sword at his hip and his change of clothes, he might have believed this.

But there was another reason, something stuck in his mind that wouldn't leave, and that thing was Zoro.

Sanji's mind still burst with questions about the man, every mystery he thought he'd unraveled only revealing more. It was perturbing enough that after exiting the abandoned temple grounds, he found himself leaning against the railing of that mossy staircase, staring down at the waterfalls below for far longer than he'd planned, the rush of the water lulling his thoughts deeper.

He couldn't understand it. He couldn't understand why the swordsman was so adamant about not using his Seal, why he wouldn't even disclose what it was.

How could he throw it away? Even with the animosity in the Capital, why not use it on his own, away from them? The people of Amigasa certainly hadn't had qualms about displaying their powers, so why did Zoro?

Was he embarrassed? Ashamed? Was it really a power that "couldn't do any good," as the idiot had put it?

Sanji knew that wouldn't matter to him if he had a Seal of his own. He'd spent his entire life wishing, longing for a power of any kind, no matter how small or insignificant. He could have made it work. He could have made his father proud… He could have risen to his expectations, not tumbled from grace like the crashing water below that gave him no answers despite how hard he stared.

Anything so his father wouldn't lock him away anymore. Anything so his brothers wouldn't think less of him. Anything so his mother didn't look at him with pity, healing him again and again until she ran her own Seal dry.

He remembered how her powers had weakened in the months before her death... And yet he'd still crawled back to her side every time, begging for comfort with fresh wounds that wouldn't have been there if he hadn't been different.

He felt that longing when he looked at Zoro. Surely that was why he'd fixated on the swordsman. He wanted what he couldn't have.

But then, the man's smile was...

Sanji hadn't fully realized he'd sat on those steps until he brought himself back to focus, dragging himself away from his thoughts the instant they started to wander into territory that was unknown even to his usual melancholy.

They were fleeting thoughts and they were confusing, why he'd so liked the feeling in his chest when he and the swordsman were together, despite everything that told him he should despise the man for wasting his gift. Was he that lonely? That desperate for some sort of companionship, even with a rude brute like Zoro?

It was too much, his swirling thoughts filling his brain to capacity when they'd emptied so easily just shortly before, when the tranquility of the training ground had pacified him, led him to lose track of time. Now he was alone again, with no one to stop his mind from whirring into a frenzy.

He didn't want to be alone.

Quickly, he pushed up and hurried down those stairs, unsure if he'd imagined the eyes he felt watching him as he left….unsure if it was just wishful thinking.

---

By the time he finally burst forth from the secluded path, trees and undergrowth giving way to the crooked houses of Amigasa, Sanji found his heart thumping with relief. It hadn't been a long walk, at least not as long as it had seemed to take with Zoro, but even still, with every tree and plant looking the same as the next, the blond had just begun to worry, more and more with each step, if he'd be able to make it back on his own after all.

It would have been pathetic, he knew, to get lost on a straight path, but the congratulations he offered himself at his success was almost more so.

Still, all he had to do now was drop by Hitetsu's house once more and seek out Tama. He just hoped the girl hadn't run off somewhere too.

So he hurried back onto the main road, making his way through the village, his sandals scuffing up dirt that clung uncomfortably to his ankles, still damp from the water. He was likely filthy again by that point, and he found himself longing for another soak in the Empress' bathhouse.

Hopefully with better company… He wasn't looking to have any more awkward encounters with passive aggressive—

"Your Highness."

The blond jolted a little at the sudden rough voice, thankful it was only his heart that stopped and not his entire body, his surprise only heightened by the use of that title.

Still, he managed to turn himself smoothly to see a stout man approaching him, his purple hair painfully saturated up close, deep rivets carved in the skin over his bushy brows, surely from glaring too much. His expression was harsh and, unfortunately, familiar.

"I think it's hardly fair that you seem to know me while you remain a stranger," Sanji muttered, despite the man's name bursting through his mind.

Orochi… The same man he'd found conversing with Zoro earlier. The same man Hitetsu had so disapproved of...

The man's sneer only dug those creases deeper into his forehead.

"So you don't deny it," the man grumbled, still with no introduction in response. "You really are a prince of Germa."

The blond sighed, certainly understanding the disdain at his country's apparent reputation, but unable to shake his discomfort, the same he'd felt when the strange man's unwarranted glare had bored into him earlier.

"I don't deny it, but I detest it," Sanji admitted, and picked up his pace in order to sidestep around the man. "Now if you'll excuse me."

But, to his dismay, the man moved right along with him, the nauseating scent of body odor and alcohol wafting towards him with the swish of the man's robes.

"And do you deny your friendship with the Empress?" he asked, sending another wave of unease rolling through Sanji's chest.

He didn't fault Zoro for telling the man as much at the time, but he was starting to wish he hadn't. He'd hoped his friendship with her would prove no consequence to Orochi, but it was starting to seem that wouldn't be true. It only made the man's true loyalties that much more questionable...

That thought was enough to make Sanji turn on his heel, irritation clear on his face, but panic clouding his heart.

"Zoro certainly denied his friendship with you," the blond bit out, voicing the one reassurance he still clung to. "Orochi, was it?"

He was met by an ugly scowl, bearing a set of crooked, discolored teeth that somehow managed to look pointed and sharp. But any satisfaction Sanji could have felt over the man's discomfort was quickly squashed when he replied.

"I don't need him to be a friend," Orochi said, something that had Sanji's eyes narrow immediately.

Whatever the hell the man meant, he did not like the sound of it…

In that moment though, he was not going to stick around and ask questions, not to Orochi at least, so he kept his expression as flat as his voice.

"Right, well. If you'll excuse me," he emphasized again, quickly moving forward once more. He thought he could recognize Hitetsu's blacksmith workshop ahead. He knew he'd prefer interacting with the grumpy masked man now compared to this one.

Sanji made it several paces without a reply, and he'd just begun to wonder if he was free.

But then Orochi's voice grated through the air again. He resisted the urge to wince.

"The Empress isn't what she seems," the man called from behind him, and Sanji shuddered when Orochi slunk into his peripheral, a terrible creeping sensation coming up his neck in response.

He was forced to stop short when Orochi's form blocked his path fully. He kept his eyes firmly averted and his own mouth shut when the man's bitter speech continued.

"She's nothing but a puppet controlled by her retainer," Orochi growled. "You see how we live, what we're reduced to while the Capital thrives." He threw a hand out to gesture aggressively at his surroundings. "We're leftovers."

Sanji's chest felt tight with an unspoken frustration. He hated that he couldn't deny it. He hated that this man had a point, that he was voicing exactly what he'd noticed, how unfair it was that these people were forced to live as outcasts.

But he had to defend the Empress because Orochi was wrong about that. She was kind and good and strong as far as he had seen. Not to mention, he had to remember. He had to remember where Orochi had come from….who he was associated with. Kaido, the bloodthirsty pirate who had decimated the Capital all those years ago.

"The Empress doesn't approve of this—" Sanji began, though Orochi quickly interrupted him.

"And yet, she does nothing to bring about change—"

But Sanji was not deterred, drawing on his inner frustration to fuel him, to spur a surprising defiance in front of this stranger that he hadn't known he possessed. But it seemed protecting his friend was a good enough reason for it to manifest.

"Zoro is part of her guard," Sanji snapped. "Are you telling me that's not a step in the right direction?"

He wasn't sure why his mind went to the swordsman as well, but if no one else would bring worth to the man, then maybe he should.

He was met with a wickedly knowing laugh, one that sent a shiver down the blond's spine, his eyes flicking automatically around him for an escape or perhaps someone to help him, particularly when the man stepped closer, laughter petering off and lips pulling back in a sneer.

"She is passive and weak," the man bit out. "Surely that is not how you rule your people in Germa."

Sanji's lip curled with anger.

No, it wasn't how his father ruled. But aggression and strength were hardly a better option to Sanji.

It took every ounce of the blond's strength to remain rooted to the spot, to stare back unflinchingly.

"My country has its own issues," he muttered. "None of which concern you."

Orochi merely glared back with malice.

"Inaction will be this kingdom's downfall," the man spit back.

"And is that a downfall you're hoping to see?"

The words spilled from Sanji's lips before he could calculate them, before he could think about the implications and the fact that he didn't want to know the answer. He thought he'd escaped such darkness.

Or would it simply follow him wherever he went…? Was that the real truth…?

The light tread of footsteps in the dirt road, and the blond noticed a young woman approaching, a pensive smile on her attractive face as she came up to Orochi's side. Her dark eyes stayed fixed on Sanji even as her smooth fingers dropped a small pouch into Orochi's waiting hand with a telltale jingle of what sounded like coins inside.

Neither said a word for a long minute, Sanji feeling his heart beat faster as the tense silence stretched longer, waiting for an answer that he didn't receive when Orochi finally spoke again.

"Why are you here, Prince," the man said, less a question than a demand, one that Sanji knew he wouldn't answer either….even if he had known the answer.

So he avoided it, instead replying, "I could ask you the same question," wishing his imagination hadn't supplied the sudden thought of a certain innocent child caught in a conflict that shouldn't have defined his life.

He wondered, with growing disdain, if this man had played some part in that innocent's misfortune...

"Sanji!"

A child's voice, real this time, dispersing the image of Zoro's wary, guarded eyes, watching Sanji as if there was something he could do about it.

He looked away, further down the street where he saw Tama standing outside Hitetsu's house. The young girl gave a timid attempt at a wave and smile, though she glanced fearfully at Orochi after doing so.

Orochi acknowledged her presence, his angry expression slowly simmering back into his resting face, a mere slight improvement over his previous look of disdain.

Thankfully, however, he ignored her, sidestepping around Sanji with the young woman still on his arm.

The blond didn't move, curling his fists to hide the tremble there, steadfastly watching the treeline in the distance as he waited for the man to disappear.

The slow slide of Orochi's sandals in the dust, somehow almost as menacing as the scratch of the forest beast's claws from Sanji's lingering nightmare. He stopped just beside the blond, leaning into Sanji's space, his rancid odor far too pungent.

"If Germa is waiting to capitalize off Wano's destruction, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed…" the man hissed close to Sanji's ear. "Not all of us are willing to accept defeat."

And then he finally moved away, Sanji only releasing the breath he'd held when he was certain there was some distance between them. He waited, counting the breaths that followed until the sound of those footsteps diminished.

Four…

Five…

Six...

He risked one last glance behind him to be sure.

Sanji just caught sight of the man's dirty yellow robe ghosting around a corner, though he couldn't disguise the confusion that washed over his face a moment later, nearly forcing a double take.

The young female companion was gone.

At Orochi's side hobbled, instead, a haggard old woman, whose long white hair seemed to shimmer a sickly green in the sunlight.

---

"Orochi is a bad man… He's mean," Tama muttered, the girl treading along beside him, kicking at a few twigs in their path as they made their way together up the forested hill near the village, back towards the stream. He hadn't expected her to lead him there, but he appreciated the company after such an unnerving encounter.

"He's not very pleasant, that's for sure…" Sanji mumbled in response, an understatement, having a hard time ridding his mind of the man's hateful sneer.

Tama's voice lowered to a whisper. "And he's ugly."

Despite everything, Sanji snorted with genuine amusement, sighing and turning an admittedly grateful gaze down at the little girl, who beamed up at him with an innocence and obliviousness Sanji wished he himself could enjoy once more.

"Tsuru thinks he'll try to hurt the Empress, but I know he won't," Tama continued, her hand gripping Sanji's trustingly when she used him as leverage to hop over a fallen log.

"How do you know?" he asked, watching her skip a few paces ahead of him, starting up a little game with herself where she avoided the patches of shadow cast by the trees, stepping from sunlit bar to sunlit bar.

"Zoro works for her," she said simply, wheeling arms to catch her balance. "He'll protect her."

Sanji found his lips turning up a little, pleased that someone seemed to have confidence in the mysterious swordsman. Kids could be foolishly trusting, sure, but thinking back to the easy, natural way Zoro had looked after Tama. The panic in his voice when she'd been in danger. That couldn't be an act.

And though he didn't know Orochi's power, or even Zoro's for that matter, he nodded in agreement. Zoro would protect what needed to be protected. He believed that now.

"Right," he murmured as they reached the crest of the hill, Tama starting down first, her small fingers swinging her around the tall, thin trunk of a nearby tree.

"Is it true though?" she asked, swinging back around to look at him. "Is she nice? The Empress?"

To that, Sanji nodded, catching her sleeve to keep her from rushing too fast down the hill. "Very."

"I want to meet her someday…" she replied wistfully, her hopping game more difficult now that the setting sun lay on the other side of the hill, casting their path entirely in shade.

"You can come back to the palace with me now?" he offered without thinking.

"You're going there?!"

"I—"

He paused, realizing he may have said too much. It shouldn't have been a secret that he knew the Empress, but after Orochi's reaction, paranoia still plagued him.

He eventually sighed though, smiling a little sheepishly. Perhaps he needn't hide it, at least not in front of a child.

"Yes, I'm… She's my friend."

Tama had stopped in her path, watching him catch up with wide eyes that stayed fixed on his face even as his taller form approached, her neck craning up at him almost comically for a moment.

"Wow…" she breathed. "That's why…"

And he was left to question what she meant when she simply shook her head and started off again, neglecting to elaborate.

"I can't come," she eventually said, a little regretfully. "My grandpa would kill me. Plus it'll get dark…" Her eyes turned back to him a little fearfully this time, voice lowering as if they'd be overheard. "Have you heard of the Night Beast?"

His face struggled to remain passive, the sudden reminder of its existence blaring loud in his head, along with the worrisome fact that he still had no idea how to properly wield the sword at his hip. If it made another appearance, he'd be dead for certain this time...

Still, he feigned ignorance, though his step had subtly quickened, subconsciously eager to escape the confines of the forest.

"Is that the same one everyone's talking about in the Capital?" he asked.

"Yup."

He said nothing, just nodded. "Then yeah, I've heard of it."

She nodded too, letting him catch up to her again so they could walk side by side, and he noticed her brow furrow, troubled gaze fixed on the path as they walked.

"I can tame it with my power…" she eventually mumbled, and he had to wonder if that was guilt behind her tone when she added, "I can help, but...I'm too scared…"

He understood all too well, had more reason than most to be absolutely terrified, but there was something about her small, dejected voice and the slip in her confidence that had him stopping, a hand finding her shoulder as he turned to her.

"There's nothing wrong with being scared," he said, unsure where the words were coming from when he so often felt his own fear was shameful.

She shook her head, muttering, "It's weak—"

But he stopped her again with a hand pressing to her cheek, lifting her chin gently until he could level her with a serious, but kind gaze.

"You've got plenty of time to get stronger," he assured, knowing it had to be true for her.

The grin that slowly lit up her face at least told him he'd said the right thing to her, even if his own mind still swirled around the time he himself had lost as a child...the opportunities he'd lost due to his own weakness. He still doubted whether he'd be able to make up for them.

But with her hand tugging him forward anew, he forced himself to remain in the present, the two of them eventually arriving at the bottom of the slope where the stream lapped and the trees thinned to reveal the vast expanse of flat fields beyond.

Here Tama stopped, removing a small purple pouch from beneath the folds of her robe. She opened it, reaching inside to pluck out a few white balls of dough which she tossed into the water where they bobbed and floated off down the widening river leading back to the Capital.

She then pulled the drawstrings tight again and plopped the bag into Sanji's hand.

"Here," she said. "Just follow the river for a bit. Sakanabi will probably show up downstream. Sometimes he's slow. Make sure you give him an extra treat when you get to town~"

Sanji sighed, already feeling strangely melancholic about their parting, though he brought a smile to his lips to hide it.

"Thank you," he said, a hand ruffling her hair gently, drawing a giggle from the girl.

"Will you come back to visit us?" she asked, her bright eyes shining with a hope he wished she didn't have. It would only make things more difficult in the end.

After all, he needed to be moving on from Wano soon. He couldn't afford to get too attached or too comfortable, even if it was in his very nature to latch onto kindness, any kindness, in some futile attempt to keep it in his life.

Things never worked out that way. But he didn't have the heart to say it to Tama, merely let his lips turn up.

"I'd like that," Sanji said simply, because that much was true, and so was the genuine embrace he squeezed Tama with before they parted ways.

---

The fish had found him, somehow, as he walked along the water's edge, or rather, he'd found it when he finally caught a glimpse of a huge expanse of orange scales beneath the surface, hovering in place when he approached.

He'd tentatively climbed atop it, tossed the creature a few more dangos, and felt somewhat foolish asking it to take him back to the Capital.

But though he received no reply or even hint that it had understood him, sure enough, the creature began its leisurely swim once more, its destination clear when the rippling fields sprouted colorful slanted roofs again and the bustling streets of the Capital came back into view.

He'd rode it to the edge of town where he hopped off onto the shallow embankment, not wanting to draw attention to himself by riding further into the canal.

He gave the fish a grateful pat, didn't forget its final dango reward, then headed into town on foot, securing the pouch and the remaining dangos to his belt. There were only a few left, but he figured they might come in handy. Or so he hoped, still unsure if he'd ever have the courage to use them against something more menacing.

It was one thing feeding them to a fish—giant, but toothless.

It was going to be another entirely to face the fanged creature he'd nearly lost his life to...

The sun was definitely on its way down now, bathing the emptying streets in long shadows and warm light, paper lanterns hanging from posts, lit along the street, their glows leading the way to the palace in the distance.

Its presence seemed to loom even more massive in the fading daylight, a dark shape silhouetted against the pink sky, wispy clouds of orange stretched thin behind it. The setting sun perched almost perfectly on the tip of the enormous tree's curved branch.

Like a moth to a flame, Sanji followed that orb through the streets, unsure where he would find the Empress but figuring the palace grounds were a good enough place to start.

Then again, Hiyori was hardly the traditional royalty. He supposed he could just as well have asked a civilian if they'd seen her.

But, soon enough, he found himself in a vast sandy courtyard at the foot of the palace tree, almost a larger version of the abandoned grounds Zoro had led him to in the mountains.

It was much closer to what he'd expected a training ground to be, the sounds of clashing blades ringing out, robed samurai of all shapes and sizes sparring, some against each other, others hacking away at training posts, their sweat glistening in the waning sunlight.

And at the center of it all, unexpectedly, was a familiar figure, dancing across the ground as she swung her sword in practiced positions, her robe floating behind her like the wings of the butterflies Zoro had claimed distracted her.

He stood under the tall gateway to the grounds, watching the ease of the Empress' moves with a mixture of both shock and awe, suddenly feeling, yet again, the heavy weight of the foreign blade at his hip, hanging there, useless with him as its master.

"Oh, hey, Mr. Prince! How ya likin' Wano?"

Sanji startled slightly, only to find none other than Toko standing before him, the little girl's loud voice offsetting the stealthy way she continued to pop up unseen. What she was doing at the training grounds remained a mystery. Surely it was no place for a small child, though it seemed she never strayed too far from the Empress.

He let out a breath, having to chuckle at the girl's unbroken smile.

"It's amazing," he answered truthfully. "Beautiful. I truly appreciate the hospitality."

She giggled in response, and he noticed, for the first time, a stone statue near the entrance: a bushy-haired figure with a matching broad grin, adorned with meticulously placed flower petals.

"Are you and Zoro going hunting?" she asked, the blond's gaze drifting back to the girl, whose hand clasped a handful of bare flower stems.

"I… Zoro left already," he replied. "I'm...admittedly not up to the task tonight."

"Oh, I just thought with the sword and all," Toko said, tilting her entire head and body to look at the blade, as if she couldn't see it from her vantage point. Then, to his surprise, her face lit up. "The Empress is training! You should spar with her!"

His stomach dropped.

"A-Ah, I don't think that's—"

But her hand clamped down on his wrist, and despite the girl being less than half his height, he found himself stumbling along behind her as she dragged him right out into the middle of the courtyard, her laughter floating all around him when she finally pushed him right up behind the Empress.

The woman's body twisted, mid-swing, her expression focused as she arched her blade quickly downward.

Until she noticed the blond standing far too close, and her face broke out into a smile.

"Sanji!" she exclaimed, not stopping her fierce swing, the tip of the blade slicing the air mere inches from Sanji's nose, forcing him to stumble back clumsily in alarm.

The Empress laughed playfully, her face attractively flushed from her routine. Not even Kawamatsu's large hand lifting in warning dampered her smile when he approached as well, his bare torso exposed and a sword of his own tied to his hip as he brought his calculating gaze to the blond. Sanji hadn't noticed him observing the Empress, but he must have been nearby.

"My apologies," the Empress said breathlessly, lowering her blade and brushing some sweaty strands of hair from her forehead. "I caught you off-guard."

"I-I—Not at all…" he stammered, despite his voice pointing to the affirmative.

He was admittedly glad Zoro hadn't forced this kind of training upon him earlier that day. He might have made a fuss about it to the mosshead, but seeing it in action, it was starting to seem like a more daunting task than expected.

He felt Kawamatsu continue to study him, enough that he glanced over to see the man's brow furrowed slightly, his red scarf like a stream of blood flowing down his chest.

Sanji supposed he did look out of place, disheveled as he was, his hair and clothes still a mess from both his fall in the canal and his forced meditation under the waterfall. He wondered again how soon he could escape to the bathhouse.

"I see you've got a new sword," Kawamatsu said, Sanji shifting a little uncomfortably when the man gestured a hand out for it. "May I?"

He didn't know why he was hesitant to show him. Maybe because of where he'd obtained it. But it was just a sword, and if he didn't disclose its origins then surely it wouldn't be an issue.

So he reluctantly slipped the blade, sheath and all, from his belt, passing it over to the man, who took it in his grasp carefully.

"Yes, I….exchanged my bow," Sanji explained. After all, that was a half truth. He just hadn't been given the choice of exchanging it. "I didn't think...it would be effective against the monster."

"I see…" Kawamatsu replied, turning the sheath over, eyes roving over the lacquered surface before he drew the sword smoothly and held it up before him.

It was the first time Sanji had seen the blade properly too, and he couldn't help but stare at the delicate craftsmanship, the way the metal seemed to shimmer blue when the man tilted it.

"This is a beautiful blade," Kawamatsu said, his thumb running over an engraved symbol near the hilt, delicate lines swirling in an unfamiliar design.

"It is," Sanji agreed, nodding. "You have very skilled craftsmen in your country."

"You must be rich!" chirped Toko, whose big eyes looked ready to burst from her head as she too stared, fascinated, at the weapon.

"Ah, hardly." Sanji chuckled. "It turned out my bow was a quite valuable trade, being from Germa…"

He trailed off, unsure what to make of the fact that Kawamatsu had yet to lower the blade. When the man spoke again, his tone was casually curious, but his dark eyes were somewhat scrutinizing.

"From whom did you obtain this?" he asked, to which Sanji fumbled for a reply.

Surely there was nothing wrong with a weapon from Amigasa. If the swordsmith possessed a Seal himself, Sanji didn't know, and it was stupid of him, to hold his tongue over such a matter. But remembering the retainer's outright disdain for those with Seals had Sanji again thinking twice about telling the truth.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch his name," he said quietly, trying an apologetic smile before deciding it was better to avoid any expression.

He could sense another question brewing within the other man, one that was far more accusatory.

But then Toko was giggling, jumping between them to reach short arms out for the blade eagerly.

"Is it heavy like Enma?" she asked, still reaching fruitlessly, though Kawamatsu didn't allow her to test it.

The man merely frowned, glancing at the girl with what Sanji interpreted as barely masked irritation, though he sheathed the blade and handed it back to Sanji without further complaint.

"Use it well," he said simply, something that came off far too much like a warning, one Sanji wasn't even sure he could heed.

Still, he managed a nod as the man turned to the Empress, who'd spent the previous minute practicing a few more fluid stances before her retainer drew her attention back to the group.

"Empress, we should be finishing here," he said, to which she sighed, her painted lips curling into a somewhat exasperated smile.

"Yes, I'll just need a change of clothes~" she replied.

"Now."

She nodded. "Yes, now." But showed no signs of moving.

Kawamatsu made a disgruntled noise in return, and Sanji had to suppress his amusement at the Empress' subtle defiance. She was clearly so comfortable with this man that she didn't fear consequences, something Sanji couldn't help but envy despite her retainer's intimidating demeanor. But then again, she was the Empress… It was almost easy to forget in moments like this.

Her retainer didn't protest though, merely shot another glance at Sanji, then gave a begrudging sigh.

"I will wait in the audience chamber," he said, his hand finding Toko, his wide palm nearly able to cover her entire back. "Come along, Toko. We should prepare for dinner."

The girl took the cue and scurried off happily towards a smaller gate on the edge of the courtyard, humming to herself all the while.

Kawamatsu lifted eyes to Sanji one final time, bowing his head slightly as he murmured a quiet, "Prince," before taking his leave as well.

Sanji's eyes followed him for a long minute, noticing a circular symbol tattooed across the man's broad back, that of a bird-like form, wings extended within the shape, a simplified sun silhouetted on its chest.

The man slipped arms back into the sleeves of his robe soon after, covering the mark, and Sanji had to turn when lithe fingers reached out for the sword once more at his hip.

"This really is a beautiful—" the Empress started, though his nerves won out and he interrupted to hastily change the subject.

"Empress—" Sanji said, though he quickly corrected himself again to, "Hiyori," the instant she replied with a subtle sigh and a pointed upturn of lips as she sheathed her sword. He had to chuckle sheepishly, still apparently unable to drop the formalities, before adding, "Can I ask you something?"

She smiled fully, replying, "Of course. Anything."

It took him a moment, despite knowing exactly what he'd planned to ask. It was a question he'd had brewing in his mind ever since Tsuru had divulged part of Wano's history to him in Amigasa. He wasn't necessarily afraid of her reaction, but perhaps it was the answers he might receive that were daunting to him…

His eyes darted around, ensuring there was enough distance between them and the other practicing samurai before he asked, "How exactly did Zoro come to serve you? Kaido brought him here…?"

Her expression flickered with surprise for a moment, mouth parting slightly before her thin brows furrowed.

"He told you?" the Empress asked, but he shook his head.

"I….heard someone in town mention it."

She didn't question it, merely nodded before replying, "Yes."

There was a long moment of what seemed to be deliberation before the Empress took hold of his arm and pulled him along suddenly, urging him to follow her across the courtyard towards a grand set of steps leading up to a rather magnificent building.

Of course, he'd seen it upon his arrival, but the closer they walked, the more impressive it seemed, the structure's tiled roof rising up in several tiers, its exterior painted a brilliant crimson supported by huge painted columns which towered far above their heads when they reached the top of the staircase.

"We can talk in here. No one will bother us," she said, and led him inside, looking small as she passed between the columns.

The sudden woodsy smell of incense filled Sanji's nose, and he was surprised to find a sprawling room before them, largely empty like the audience chamber he'd first been brought to, though this room had a matted floor and various deific statues surrounding its perimeter, watching from their alcoves.

And at the far end stood an elaborate altar, a huge, golden pagoda-like structure housing flickering candles and small figurines that Sanji didn't recognize.

It seemed to glow, a holy beacon lit warmly by the hanging lanterns above. Its beauty was humbling, enough that he could only stare dumbly as the Empress slipped out of her shoes, leaving them to step onto the mats and cross to a row of ornate pillows on the floor before the altar. She knelt there for a moment to clap her hands together and bow her head reverently.

She noticed his hesitance when she straightened, though she smiled and beckoned him over, the blond slowly removing his shoes as well and making his way to kneel on the cushion beside her, unsure what he should do or if he should even be there. Few in Germa had practiced any sort of religion, least of all the royal family. His father had believed them deities in their own right.

But the Empress still wore a welcoming smile and said nothing by way of correction when he merely sat there, a little overwhelmed.

She reached out to give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm still not sure it is my place to tell you this," she finally said, turning her body towards him, shifting her legs to sit more comfortably. "But I can at least convey my perspective."

Sanji waited with bated breath as she seemed to muster the words within her. She closed her eyes briefly, but when she opened them, it was with conviction.

"Zoro was there when Kaido killed my brother," she murmured, a statement that sent Sanji's mind reeling, the blond struggling to control the blatant shock on his features. Tsuru had said Kaido brought him to Wano, but why had Zoro been near the Prince?

"What…?" he stammered in disbelief, any hope that it wasn't true swiftly squashed when the Empress nodded.

"He was just a boy," she continued sadly. "But Kaido offered him up….as an exchange... For my brother's Seal, we soon learned…"

He couldn't reply, but it seemed she wasn't finished, her gaze lowering to her lap as a ripple of old turmoil crossed her face. It was a look he remembered from when they were children, her grief still raw and fresh, one he'd hoped he wouldn't see again.

"I don't remember much of that day," the Empress admitted. "I try not to. But I remembered him... When I returned to Wano after staying with you in Germa, he was gone, and I didn't see him again for many years. In fact, I assumed he'd been killed….

"But he returned two years ago, a trained samurai. He said that if Kaido left him as payment for my brother's life, then he wanted to fulfill it by pledging his to the throne."

Sanji's head spun, an ill feeling creeping over him. So Kaido hadn't simply abandoned Zoro. It was much worse. Zoro's life...for the Crown Prince's…

It all made sense now, why Zoro in particular was so reviled, even amongst those with Seals. The massacre hadn't been his fault, but to the people, it was. And to Zoro…? What did he feel about himself?

Suddenly, Sanji wished he hadn't pushed him about his Seal. He regretted needling the man, regretted all his own selfish sentiments about wanting power. He hadn't known the full story, but why couldn't he have kept his mouth shut? He'd seen how it upset Zoro...

What if Zoro resented him for it?

And that was a fear far more debilitating than expected. Sanji had hated it himself, after all, having his own past pried open without consent…

He swallowed, willing back the nausea rising within him.

"Where did he go for all those years?" he managed to ask, keeping his voice quiet so as not to show the emotion threatening to overtake him.

"I'm not sure," the Empress answered with a frown. "Kawamatsu presumes he fled, or hid himself at least." Her lips turned up a little sheepishly. "Admittedly, I accepted his service against Kawamatsu's advice. But in a way, it was closure for me. To extend my hand in kinship to a supposed enemy. Just as you did for me. I needed someone strong by my side once more."

He could relate to that, certainly. In fact he'd put it into practice all too recently. But, couldn't she see?

"You're strong too," he murmured, to which she lifted her head to look at him again, the magical glow of the altar washing over her features.

Her expression didn't brighten though, her blue eyes studying his face for a long moment, almost searching for his reasoning, maybe even hopeful for it. For a moment, the blond felt a moment of connection, as if his own insecurities had unexpectedly overlapped with hers.

"I don't feel it," she eventually replied, and it was strange to hear her tone so somber. Perhaps he'd been wrong to assume a person like her wouldn't have their own doubts, particularly when she continued.

"I was never meant to rule, Sanji. My brother was the rightful heir. He deserved it. He was focused, preparing for it even at a young age, while I was still catching bugs in the gardens, rolling around in the dirt all day."

His surprise must have shown on his face because she chuckled before adding, a little sadly, "I must do my duty, I know. But it's a duty I never expected, nor wanted, truthfully."

She sighed then, shook her head after a moment, as if trying to bring back a bit of her usual positivity. "I apologize," she said. "I'm the daughter of a samurai. Such weakness is disgraceful…"

He reached out to take her hand gently.

"But, Empress, the people love you," he implored, though she shrugged again.

"And I love them, but…..if Momo were here, I would give it up in a heartbeat. I would rather be one of them. I would rather not have this burden…"

Her confession rang far too true in his ears. Even if their plights were slightly different, Sanji knew he felt the same, if not about his throne, then about his lack of power. He'd just wanted a normal life...or what had constituted as normal in his kingdom...

"What would happen if you gave it up?" he wondered, and it was a question he'd asked himself countless times. What if he stopped worrying? What if he accepted himself for who he was?

He noticed that her gaze had fallen on the altar once more, the light finally bringing a bit of the life back to her eyes.

"Right now, I have no heir. Kawamatsu has been insisting I appoint a shogun—" She glanced his way, saw his confusion before clarifying. "A military leader—to rule in the event I die… But that somehow seems like a step backwards. I'm not sure what I want."

He sighed, watching her for a moment before replying.

"I suppose that's how I felt...about my own throne," he said. "I was never allowed to want it, really. But I still find myself wishing….that I'd been important enough to make a change."

The Empress' eyes met his again, this time with a bit of her usual spark, particularly when she plopped her other hand on top of his and gave a solid pat.

"I think change can start small. Or so I tell myself. Though Kawamatsu says, 'Good governing must be bold,'" she mimicked, puffing out her chest and lowering her voice in imitation of her retainer.

He chuckled, though he couldn't deny the man's sensibilities still made him uneasy. Was the Empress even aware of the feelings he'd laid so bare to Sanji that night in the bathhouse?

Still, he said nothing, just took his opposite hand and set it atop hers for a final squeeze before releasing her.

"For what it's worth, my father could learn from you…" he said, and he was glad to see a full-blown smile return to her face, beautiful and confident.

"I appreciate that," the Empress said, and he smiled too.

In the silence that followed, Sanji found his eyes drawn upwards to the altar once more, where he noticed, for the first time, a cabinet nestled in the center, its filigreed doors open to reveal a large statue of a dragon inside. Its detailed form was painted a rich rose color, several scales on its back shining with golden accents. Its long body twisted over and under itself in a mesmerizing tangle, though its front feet stood planted firmly on the bottom of the cabinet, each clutching something curious.

Two rolls of parchment were clasped within the dragon's unmovable ivory claws, their surfaces seeming to shimmer gold as well when Sanji tilted his head, though whether it was from the lighting overhead he wasn't sure. They looked alive and almost...familiar.

"What are those?" Sanji breathed quietly, because it seemed deliberate, the two scrolls placed there.

He felt a little unnerved asking, as if the dragon's fierce, protective expression was directed at him, unwilling to spill its secrets. He couldn't take his eyes off the statue though, studying its polished curves and long twirling whiskers, hypnotized.

"Those two scrolls are all that remain of our original palace," he heard the Empress say. "There used to be hundreds, but Kaido destroyed everything. He didn't know they were enchanted, otherwise I'm sure his destructive path would have spared them—"

"Enchanted?" he immediately blurted out, finally turning a wide-eyed gaze on her.

"Yes." And she leaned in conspiratorially, her voice lowering to a mischievous whisper. "It's a secret of the royal family. Passed down for generations."

"O-Oh," he started to protest. "Then—"

But she smiled reassuringly. "I trust you…"

He watched her eyes flit towards the altar again.

"Whatever one scribes on them becomes reality. Apart from some restrictions. One cannot, for example, wake the dead," she said with a wistful upturn of lips. "As per tradition, their protection is tasked to each ruler's most trusted retainer. In my case, Kawamatsu. Naturally, that has not stopped the abuse of their power throughout history…"

She trailed off for a moment, leaving Sanji to wonder how the scrolls had survived Kaido's massacre. And furthermore, how had she…?

As if hearing his thoughts, she leveled her gaze on him once more.

"It's how I escaped when Kaido attacked," she said. "Kawamatsu used one to send me away. To Germa."

Yes. It made sense. He remembered the burst of light, remembered the scroll in her hands when she'd appeared in Germa, unaccompanied, on the same day of Kaido's attack. It should have been impossible, the distance between their kingdoms far too great, though he hadn't questioned it as a young boy.

But now...if the scrolls truly possessed such power, surely they had enough power to—

"Empress, if you wish for things to be different, why not use one?" he blurted out in revelation. The solution to peace could be right here, not just within Wano, but within both their kingdoms—even the entire world! Wasn't it that simple?

But her expression was somewhat troubled, and in fact, she'd seemed to anticipate his reaction, her hands fidgeting with the fabric of her robe when she looked back at the scrolls.

"Each can only be used once," she murmured, seemingly to herself. "And only two remain…" She sighed. "It's something I must think hard about."

The blond resisted the urge to show any frustration, seeing her shoulders almost sink physically with the weight of that unseen responsibility.

Perhaps he'd spoken out of turn, he thought with a sliver of regret. He didn't have the fate of a country in his hands, unlike her. And he did know how tactful a good ruler must be, even if his own father had hardly shown any himself.

It was the Empress' decision, and he hoped she'd make the right one. Still, he'd never imagined Wano could possess such an easy solution…but it seemed this country was full of surprises and mysteries.

That brought to mind something else, a persistent thought, something that definitely may not have been his place to know, but he so desperately wanted to.

"May I ask one more thing…?" he asked carefully after a minute, watching as the Empress returned from deep thought, looking a little dazed for a second before she nodded with an attempt at a smile.

"You may."

"You said Kaido offered Zoro as an exchange for your brother…" he began slowly, then finally asked, "Do you know what Zoro's Seal is?"

Her brows lifted slightly, as if he'd caught her off-guard with the question. And he had to hide his dismay when she merely sighed and shook her head.

"No," she admitted, looking troubled by this fact. "I don't know anyone who does. But I know he loathes it terribly…"

"Yes, I gathered that much…" he replied, for lack of anything else to say, though he felt ready to wilt with his disappointment.

Had Zoro really never shown anyone? Why? Was he that ashamed?

But Sanji stopped his thoughts from traveling down that path again.

Things were different now that he knew Zoro's story. He couldn't let his own selfish desire for power cloud his judgment anymore. Zoro was here, alive, essentially in the late Prince's stead. Even if Sanji didn't believe he was at fault for any of Kaido's wrongdoings, the people of Wano seemed to think differently.

Maybe Zoro did too.

And maybe now...it wasn't so shocking that the swordsman wouldn't want to utilize the bargaining chip that had cost the young Prince his life.

"I think it's been weighing on him as of late," the Empress murmured, as if to confirm this. "He doesn't seem to be sleeping well…"

Her saddened expression softened a little, an upturn of lips bringing a bit of mischief back to her eyes.

"I think he likes you though," she added, leaning in playfully to press a hand over his again.

At that, Sanji automatically let out a loud snort of skepticism, even if the statement sent an odd jolt—of panic, surely—through his chest.

"Why, pray tell," he scoffed flatly.

The Empress wasn't deterred though, merely giggled and replied, "He actually brought you to me as I asked."

Sanji raised his eyebrows. "Are you saying he'd disobey you…?"

"I'm saying he's a good judge of character," she clarified with a laugh, patting his hand and sitting back. "He would have killed you otherwise."

She flashed a pleasant smile at him once more, then, with a final bow to the altar before her, gathered her robes and got to her feet, offering a hand down to him.

The blond stared for a moment, still rather shocked. Was the mosshead really that good of a judge? Yes, Zoro might have spared him, saved his life even, but into his mind, again, crept the awful sneer and biting comments of Orochi, whom Zoro hadn't claimed as a friend but certainly hadn't done anything to dismiss…

A country in need of change, and no one yet making a move to incite it…

As he took the Empress' smooth hand, Sanji couldn't avoid, for the second time, the fleeting, uncomfortable thought that Orochi's twisted anger had been somewhat justified...

---

The crooked dank alleys wove like a labyrinth of disjointed limbs, each leading endlessly into the next. Sanji's boots pounded over the cobbles, the stones as uneven as his harsh breaths, splashing through dirty puddles in a fruitless search for an escape.

Every time he thought he'd finally reached the main street, his palms slammed into yet another brick wall slick with industrial grime, staining his skin with soot and dirt.

But he pressed onward, even as the sky blackened similarly, the rumble of distant thunder sending ominous vibrations through the charged air.

He had to run. He had to get out before the soldiers captured him, threw him back in the dungeon and plunged him once more into darkness. His neck still ached from the heavy weight of metal, his skin not yet healed from months of chafing that he hadn't been able to alleviate, and the air still felt abnormally brisk on his newly bare face.

He couldn't go back. He'd die if he did, and while that was probably preferable, dammit, he was scared of even that. He couldn't guarantee himself a swift, painless end, after all.

The buildings seemed to close in on either side, like soldiers themselves looking to cut off his escape. The thunder rumbled again, except it wasn't thunder this time. It was the sound of boots pursuing him, growing closer and closer in the dark, inciting a blind panic that threatened to turn his body to liquid, all control and reason flying away from him in waves.

But just when he'd reached his limit, his racing heart burning in his chest, legs trembling, he burst out onto a wider street, damp and gleaming like oil under the cool moonlight.

He stumbled, nearly fell, but a pair of thin arms caught him, helped him right himself with an exclamation of his name.

Sanji looked up fearfully.

And he could have collapsed with relief to see his mother there, her pale skin looking translucent when she lifted hands to brush back his sweaty hair.

"What are you running from?" she asked gently, her face breaking into a small, almost condescending smile.

Sanji realized the running footsteps hadn't stopped chasing him, their sound only growing louder as they descended.

His relief faded entirely when his mother's smile turned mocking, just as sneering as—

"It's only your brothers," she said.

And then she shoved him, hard, towards the three shadowy figures pursuing him, their wicked grins glimmering for a split second before, with a horrible ripping sound, their forms burst into a flurry of dark scales which molded themselves back into three serpent-like shapes. Dragons, ferocious and bloodthirsty as they flew towards him, their fangs dripping with toxic venom that burned rivets in the stone beneath them.

Sanji stumbled back, but when he turned, his mother had vanished, any hope of her protection gone with her, and he had no choice but to run, again.

His feet were lead and he couldn't seem to move any distance, the same buildings in his peripheral no matter how hard he pushed his legs, but still he tried, even as tears soaked his face.

His boot caught the edge of a cobble and he tripped, crashing down to his knees painfully, just as one of the dragons grabbed his arm with its sharp claws.

He felt himself being lifted, sharp teeth scratching his flesh, the burn of acid searing its way into his bloodstream.

And then he was colliding with the ground once more as another force tugged him loose from the dragon's grasp.

His entire body was on fire now, writhing there on his back uncontrollably, his eyes barely able to focus on a familiar rosy-haired figure above him, slender fingers landing next to the laceration on his arm. A tugging sensation, and he saw those fingers drawing a purple substance from the wound, separating it from his blood with a magnetic pull.

His rapid breathing began to slow, heartbeat placating, the fire subsiding—

—until one of the dragons burst through the darkness, cutting through the air like an arrow that pierced through his sister's form, sending her dissipating into a cloud of thick smoke.

He was alone now. He felt it. No one else was coming to help him.

He lay there, his body no longer burning but numb, immobile, the wetness of the ground seeping into his clothes as steadily as the blood oozing from his arm.

The dark sky above him swirled with tempestuous clouds, his eyes fixed dully on those three silhouettes now hurtling straight for him, their huge mouths gaping wide to strike. He couldn't look away, could only think that, yes, it was better this way.

There was nothing. He had nothing left.

His chest lifted with what was surely one final breath, a breath that was drowned out by the sound of a mighty roar, thick with fury and louder than any thunderclap.

Above him, an enormous shape blocked out the sky, two giant paws landing on either side of his torso with thuds that vibrated his entire chest.

The creature reared up, clamping its teeth down directly onto the neck of one of the advancing dragons.

A shrill shriek filled the air.

…

Sanji flinched at the sound of Toko's high-pitched laughter, his mind dropping heavily back to the present moment.

He was sitting at a low table across from the Empress, Kawamatsu and Toko on either side, the four of them eating breakfast outside in the morning air, the courtyard gardens surrounding them. Birdsong flitted from the trees, sunlight dappling over dew-covered leaves...

But Sanji's mind remained stubbornly in the dark streets of Germa, remembering the unsettling dream that had kept him, yet again, from a restful sleep. He'd experienced frequent nightmares throughout his life, but he now worried he'd never see freedom from them, not even here, in such a beautiful place…

He'd woken that morning with fresh robes laid out for him and a quick escort to the courtyard where the other three were already waiting for him. The Empress had given a small apologetic shrug when he'd arrived, flicked her eyes subtly to Kawamatsu, who clearly hadn't wanted the two of them escaping to town again.

So Sanji forced himself to eat, not wanting to waste the artful meal prepared for them, though in truth he only felt like picking at his rice, taking a few sips of his soup. He stayed largely quiet through the conversation, under the guise of taking in the morning. He wished he could relax…

But he still found himself far too jumpy when a door slid open suddenly and a robed attendant stepped outside, bowing low.

The Empress immediately perked up, abandoning her food and straightening, but Kawamatsu pressed a hand to her shoulder and stood himself, crossing the courtyard to speak with the attendant himself.

She smiled gratefully, then continued with her meal, speaking amiably with Toko as if nothing was amiss.

And yet, Sanji's attention drifted to Kawamatsu, the blond shifting his gaze to the man's broad form, his voice out of earshot, but the tension in the man's shoulders heightening worryingly. Another minute, then he nodded and turned around.

Sanji averted his gaze quickly as the man began to make his way back, the clack of his wooden sandals against the stone path growing louder until they stopped, the man standing beside the table silently, his presence looming enough that the three looked up.

The man peered down at the Empress, his eyes shaded by the wide brim of his hat, but the seriousness of his expression visible all the same. Whatever the attendant had told him didn't seem favorable.

"This pertains to both of you," he said simply, and Sanji was surprised when the man indicated him as well.

A small part of him wondered if the matter had something to do with Zoro...

So he'd pushed up from the table a little more eagerly than perhaps was normal, and they'd left the courtyard, he and the Empress following Kawamatsu through the airy halls to the audience chamber, Toko skipping along behind.

They entered the long room to find a civilian man, poor by the looks of it, as he wore a modest brown robe, his face tan and hardened from the sun, most likely a farmer. The pack tied to his back leaked bits of grain when he rushed forward upon their arrival.

"Ah, Empress, thank goodness!" he huffed, foregoing formalities to immediately take her hand and tug her forward urgently. "Something must be done. The beast was seen last night. In the fields bordering the Capital. It killed one of my cows!"

Sanji's heart dropped, but the Empress remained collected, reaching up to take his hand in hers gently.

"Please, calm down, sir," she said. "Where exactly was—?"

But the man interrupted, releasing the Empress only to whirl towards Kawamatsu this time, growing hysteria in his voice.

"You must increase the hunting efforts! It has never ventured this close before! If we wait any longer, our farms, our families will be in danger!"

The man continued his frantic speech, the Empress softly trying to calm him, but Sanji tuned it out, instantly searching the room for Zoro. Attendants lined the room this time, but there was no sign of a telltale head of moss, and dammit, where was he? Hadn't he been hunting the beast?

He scanned every face, saw no trio of swords, no muscular form, not even a familiar glare piercing back at him.

Where the hell was he? He suddenly wanted to shove the farmer aside, blurt out the question that should have held top priority then. Zoro could fight, he knew, but if the beast had come that close to the Capital… Well, fuck, what if he'd been injured? Or worse?

He didn't know why the worry sparked in him so violently, the voices in the room fading to the background, sounding almost muffled beneath his sea of concern.

Until one voice—one terrifying statement—broke the surface with stark clarity.

"It is for the best, Empress," Kawamatsu was saying. "We must protect our borders as is, now that Germa has sent soldiers into Goa—"

And if Sanji's blood had run cold with the news of the beast, then it solidified into ice with that utterance.

"Wait—!" he exclaimed, fear gripping his expression and breaths hastening as he whipped his head to the man. "Germa is invading Goa?!"

All eyes fell on him, sending his heart pounding anxiously in his chest, skin heating uncomfortably in a way he hadn't experienced since that first walk through the Capital, when the comments and insults of the townsfolk had summoned traumatizing memories.

"Invasion or not… We don't yet know their intentions," Kawamatsu said, his voice level. "Unless you do..."

Sanji felt a tremor run through him, rippling through from head to toe. His lungs constricted, squeezing out air far too quickly, his body threatening to betray him as panic weakened his knees and sent his ears ringing.

Because he knew their intentions. Of course he knew.

His father was after him. His father was searching for him. He'd drag him back and imprison him. His brothers would torture him again, their kicks and punches as rough as—

The Empress' hand touched his tentatively, but he flinched back violently, enough to make her eyes fill with alarm, uncertainty crossing her features.

"We received word from a messenger last night," she said, retracting her hand, then looked down apologetically. "I thought it best not to tell you right away."

He tried to muster his voice, tried to apologize, nod, something, but found he couldn't, his head feeling heavier on his shoulders, straining the muscles in his neck.

His vision had begun to tunnel around a memory, blackening on either side until he could only see through a tiny slit, cold iron circling his head, blocking out all other senses, the literal key to his freedom dangling teasingly in the hand of a guard, just out of reach.

Thick iron bars flew at him from either side, threatening to trap him, and though it was the Empress' voice that called his name with concern, all he heard was his mother, ripped straight out of his nightmare.

Pushing him right back into his hell.

If he didn't run now, he'd never be free. Just as he'd known in his dream, he would die if he went back this time. He was certain.

But he wasn't ready to give in yet.

So without further warning, Sanji turned on his heel and bolted across the room, footsteps echoing, painfully loud, over the tiles.

Again, the Empress called after him, but he ignored it. He couldn't turn around. Not even for her. Nothing could protect him from his father now. Nothing. He had to get out.

Sanji flew from the audience chamber into an entrance hall he vaguely remembered seeing when Zoro first dragged him there. He had to find his quarters, so he tore off down an adjacent hallway, the same terror of being chased clawing at his heart, though no footsteps followed him, the air silent save for his own heavy breaths.

He ran aimlessly, each hallway looking like the next, whipping around right angle corners far faster than he should have. Until, by some miracle, he recognized a floral arrangement and a large scroll painting hanging on a wall. His room was just down the hall from it.

He nearly destroyed the door with his grip when he reached it and slid it open forcefully, but he couldn't care about that, merely rushed in to gather what little belongings he had. He found his old clothes, freshly laundered, folded neatly near his bed, so he kicked off his sandals and pulled on his trousers and boots, balled up his cloak and shoved it into his satchel, along with the pouch of dangos from Tama. His robe he didn't remove, knowing that the foreign garment would make him less recognizable to his people.

He should have prepared more, should have found food to take, more weapons, anything, but there was no time. His father wasn't even in Wano yet, but there was still no time. His panic was winning out over logic. Wano would be next, surely, and he needed to put as much distance between them as he could.

So he took up the only thing he had left, his sword, his only hope of defending himself, secured it to his belt, and then he was off, retracing his path through the halls, dodging confused attendants, and praying no one tried to stop him.

More than once, he narrowly avoided a collision, particularly when he exploded through the doors to the entrance hall to nearly plow over an old woman who hobbled away from the grounds with a pack of grain on her back, her bushy white hair looking vaguely familiar, had his mind been rational enough to notice.

But he couldn't even apologize, just continued on towards the gardens.

Not even nature's tranquility could soothe him when he found himself sprinting down the sandy paths, weaving amongst floral beds, past those meditating statues that looked oblivious with their closed eyes. And yet, their ethereal smiles almost seemed to mock Sanji's fear now.

He couldn't afford to stop, and yet his lungs were on fire, out of air to the point that his head gave a dangerous spin, forcing Sanji to catch himself against a tree trunk. He had no choice but to press his forehead against the rough bark, struggling to get his breathing back under control.

And that was when he heard it, a rustle of branches above, followed by the sharp thud of two feet landing heavily in the path behind him.

"What's wrong with you?"

That sarcastic voice, alive, and certainly not eaten by a monster.

Sanji's heart did a flip for an entirely different reason, his eyes shooting open.

"I didn't die," Zoro announced, not waiting for an answer, his tone far too smug, and when the blond spared him the quickest glance over his shoulder he could see a stupid smirk, of all things, plastered on the swordsman's face. The look was youthful and relaxed, and what had changed overnight, Sanji didn't know. Never had the swordsman greeted him so amiably before, if he could consider it that.

Sanji couldn't look at him for long though, shouldn't, not when it fucking hurt, that even after such a short time together, it couldn't last. He had to leave before he thought of Zoro as anything more than an acquaintance...

"You didn't kill it either," Sanji muttered quietly in an attempt to disguise how breathless he was. "It took out a farmer's livestock near the Capital last night."

Zoro went silent for a moment in which Sanji wondered if he'd crushed the man's spirits. He risked another glance to see the swordsman had frozen, a strange emotion that Sanji couldn't quite place flashing over his features, as if he were hearing the news for the first time, his brow drawing in and his head tilting slightly.

But it only took a few seconds before he seemed to force his thoughts away, shaking his head and shooting back, "But I didn't die," just as smug, just as pleased, as if Sanji should be happy about that fact.

And dammit, of course he was. He didn't want Zoro to die. He'd told him as much, but the thought had become more and more prominent in his mind since their last encounter, Zoro staying there far too stubbornly the entire time they'd been apart. Sanji wanted to talk to him again, forget himself again. He didn't want to keep running.

Yet, he forced himself to push off that tree and walk on, hitching his satchel up on his shoulder and ignoring Zoro when he heard the swordsman start to follow, even speeding up in a feeble attempt to lose him.

Why was he like this? Why did he grow attached to someone the instant they showed him any kind of attention? Sanji had thought it before, but he didn't want to admit it. That he truly was that desperate and lonely… But then again, he'd never had someone truly understand his experiences. Not until this stupid swordsman.

In that moment, Sanji hated him for it. Why was it him? Why did this have to be so difficult?

"Oi, where are you even going?" Zoro called, a few steps behind him, though he quickly caught up.

Sanji's chest ached, but he didn't reply.

He heard Zoro huff, but the mosshead was damn persistent, even going so far as to knock into his shoulder to grab his attention.

"People are talking," Zoro tried instead, lowering his voice a bit as if the world was listening in. "I heard Germa's army is in Goa."

Instantly, Sanji's panic returned, that ice cold dagger stabbing through him again, his heart combating it with a heated shudder, soon speeding up in his chest. This time Sanji answered, though it was clipped, and he struggled to swallow the anxiety that so wanted to shatter him at the very thought.

"Yes," he bit out, keeping his gaze trained on the path ahead and willing his vision not to waver again. "They're looking for me. It's a miracle they didn't start here."

"So where are you going?" Zoro asked again, sounding the tiniest bit more wary to Sanji's ears, though he could have imagined it.

"I can't let them find me," he answered simply, though it was starting to sound rehearsed, he thought, nothing more than a mantra he'd forced himself to follow. "I've got to get away from the Capital."

To his surprise, Zoro's footsteps faltered, and though he still wasn't looking, Sanji heard the swordsman's shaky inhale, heard him stammer for a moment.

When he finally managed a sentence, his tone had grown more unhinged.

"They're not here!" Zoro insisted. "They're in Goa! Besides, you have protection here—you'll be fine!"

So the oaf had been offering protection all along, Sanji realized. In a backwards sort of way. But though it was a fact that threatened to stop the blond in his tracks, turn around and accept Zoro's offer, he tuned it out.

"You don't know my father's strength!" Sanji shot back, but Zoro countered quickly.

"And he doesn't know ours!" the swordsman cried, this time stepping directly into Sanji's path.

An accidental glance at Zoro's face exposed an expression he hadn't expected, Zoro's eyes oddly tumultuous, his chest heaving with uncontrolled breaths. Had he struck a nerve? Hurt the swordsman's stubborn pride? How could he when one thing persisted.

"Neither do I, truthfully…" Sanji muttered, pushing past the swordsman dismissively. "Just stop following me."

He didn't, his steps quickening to match Sanji's pace.

"Here's a question—"

"Stop following me—!"

"You said your father is like Kaido," Zoro pressed, and if only Sanji hadn't divulged so much about where he'd come from. Maybe this would be easier.

"So why is he searching so damn hard for you?" Zoro continued when Sanji said nothing, his voice rising, cutting sharply right through to the very memories Sanji hated to have pried out of him.

"If he didn't care about you, he shouldn't care if you're gone—!"

"Because he proclaimed I was dead!" Sanji snapped, finally rounding on the swordsman with far more aggression than intended, but there Zoro was again, battering his carefully constructed wall, and it was one he didn't want to come crashing down. What would Zoro think of him when he saw what was behind it?

Zoro didn't rise to his aggression as Sanji had expected. Instead, his shoulders fell, all the frustration in his face dropping and draining from his body, his arms limp at his sides and his breathing light.

His mouth worked for words, coming up short for a moment before he finally managed to utter, "He did…?"

Zoro's energy had diminished, but Sanji's hadn't, all the anger and pain he'd bottled inside for so long building up within him until he felt ready to explode.

"Yes! Years ago!" he cried, and though he'd told the Empress as much, there was something about Zoro's presence that stoked that fire of emotions. With the Empress, he'd felt defeated. With Zoro, he was roaring to life.

"I've been locked away, kept out of the public eye for all this time, because of what I don't have!" Sanji growled, shoving a finger right at Zoro's chest, at that mark over his heart which Sanji wanted to rip off him in moments like this.

Zoro merely stood there in some degree of shock, if that was something the brute was even capable of, taking the abuse in silence, though his expression held all his tension.

Sanji let out an angry hiss, backing off a step to drag hands back through his hair before throwing them up bitterly.

"I mean—that has to be why," he gritted out as he paced because, dammit, it was the only reason he could think of. His father was selfish, obsessed with his image of absolute power and strength. A defective son was an embarrassment. Besides… "Think of the political havoc it would wreak if everyone in Germa found out their king had lied to them!"

He noticed Zoro shake his head suddenly, his brow furrowing even more.

"Why doesn't he kill you for real then!" Zoro asserted, to which Sanji shot a dark glare, one that rivaled his father's, unbeknownst to him.

But it didn't deter Zoro, the swordsman reaching out to grab Sanji's arm urgently.

"I'm trying to find the fucking logic in this!"

"It's hopeless, Zoro," Sanji bit out. "You and logic don't mix."

Zoro shook his arm roughly. "Why do you think he kept you alive all this time?"

"Why all the questions?!" the blond snapped, ripping his arm free just as roughly, his heart beating hard and fast in his chest. "He's not a good man, if that's what you're implying! I'm sure it was because of my mother. She was the only one who cared about me. But now my mother is gone, so—!"

Again, he noticed Zoro's stance wilt slightly, the swordsman looking almost frustrated with himself, his gaze downcast and his fists clenching, chest taking in a shaky breath.

Sanji didn't stop to wonder why, merely said, "The world is full of darkness, Zoro. That shouldn't be news to you."

The statement came out harshly, and he noticed Zoro's eyes close painfully for a moment. He stayed silent though, so Sanji continued.

"I told you. My country is different from Wano. My father values Seals more than anything. Of course he would want to erase a disgraceful son like me!"

The blond scoffed bitterly, shaking his head. He hadn't intended on telling Zoro the full pathetic truth, even if it ran through his own mind constantly, but there it was, out in the open all the same.

He shook his head and turned away from Zoro, crossing arms over his chest, a wry tone to his voice when he muttered to himself, "Maybe we should trade kingdoms…"

A growl from behind him, Zoro's breath hissing out through his teeth, and then his voice was sharp and strong once more. Clearly he wasn't finished arguing.

"You think it's bullshit how people treat me—well, it's bullshit how he treats you!" Zoro cried. "Don't believe what he wants you to!"

But it was too much. All of it. Every hidden truth he'd spilled, every dark secret Sanji kept inside. Everything he'd been too ashamed to admit, to accept about himself when all he'd ever wanted was to be better—at everything. He didn't want this, and yet—

"You know what the worst part is, Zoro?" he nearly shouted, whirling on Zoro with pent-up rage. "I'm just like him! I'm just like my father! Even you picked up on that! Because having a Seal? Having power and strength? I've always wanted that! I still want it now!" He looked away the instant he felt a sting behind his eyes, a tightness building in his throat. No. He was angry. He was furious. He wouldn't let himself display anything else, certainly not vulnerability.

He forced himself onward.

"I can remember my siblings—burning down fucking forests, electrocuting entire lakes! And here you are wasting yours!"

A heavy shove to Zoro's chest with those words, one the swordsman took full-on.

The man didn't stumble, just stood, as still as a statue, watching Sanji with complete seriousness. He'd made himself immovable, and it only worsened the burning in Sanji's eyes. He hated that look. It felt cold and judgmental and—

—Zoro's voice when he spoke was so gentle, so quiet and calm that it immediately focused all of Sanji's attention. Something had shifted in Zoro's eyes with that tone, a thawing ice.

"Would you really kill for a Seal?" he murmured, and Sanji struggled to hold onto his aggression.

"I want to kill you half the time," he growled unconvincingly. His hands had already lowered, trembling and still tingling from the impact with Zoro's warm chest.

"Go ahead then," Zoro said simply, not taking his eyes from Sanji. "Do it. I don't want mine anyway."

He loomed there before Sanji in silent challenge for a long moment, his stance completely relaxed, waiting for something he no doubt knew wouldn't come.

And Sanji knew it just as well, all because he couldn't even look at the swordsman without feeling a persistent stirring in his chest, a growing need to be around him simply because it made his heart beat faster and the will to live somehow surge within his veins. It was new and it was dangerous, this something that he'd never been permitted to feel.

But it was life all the same. And why should any one person hold control over another's.

"Exactly," Zoro murmured. "You wouldn't. Because you're not like that."

Sanji shook his head, a last show of defiance. He wouldn't kill, no. He wouldn't seize that manic control like his father. He knew it was wrong.

But one thing persisted...

"I can't….I can't even…" he stammered with frustration. "Through my anger, through everything. I couldn't fight back against them. Not once."

Could he tell Zoro his deepest secret? Would he understand?

"And you think that's a bad thing," Zoro replied.

Or would he think him just as weak and pathetic?

"What good am I," Sanji continued, a tremor to his words. "No Seal, no strength whatsoever. I couldn't even go with you to take on a giant fucking cat! So often I…."

Tell him. Trust him.

"What…?" Zoro murmured, anticipating.

He told him, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I wanted my father to kill me. Because clearly he resented my existence…"

Sanji looked away, closed his eyes, scared to see Zoro's reaction. He heard nothing, not even a huff of disbelief.

The long moment it took him to reply was agonizing, Sanji waiting for his brothers to inevitably resurface in Zoro's words.

But Zoro wasn't them. And in fact, his voice was almost accepting when he finally spoke.

"So stay here," he said. "Where you're safe."

He swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in his throat and a pang of longing burn his chest.

Sanji wanted to. Fuck, he wanted to, despite all his worries. Because they'd vanished, hadn't they, the moment Zoro appeared, to be replaced by nothing but the swordsman's overwhelming presence, irritating, but strengthening somehow. His troubled thoughts had merely shifted to the fact that he didn't want Zoro to be tangled in this, in all his stupid problems that he couldn't let go of. Zoro had his own. He didn't need this.

"If my father is looking for me, he will not come and go quietly, Zoro," he tried, a last ditch effort to explain the dangers of the situation. "Not anymore. Those times are long gone. I need to get out of Wano. This will keep you safe, if I leave!"

Zoro would be safe and free and shouldn't he want that? The swordsman seemed to value his freedom so much, after all.

But for some reason, Zoro huffed out a defiant, "That's not your job to worry about!"

"Then why are you trying to stop me?!" Sanji shot back, hysterics rising beyond his control. "Why do you want me to stay?"

"Why do you think I want you to stay!" Zoro shouted, his voice finally unhinged.

And Sanji stiffened because suddenly, Zoro's stoic demeanor cracked open, just like that, leaving a jagged crevice of emotion that swept over his face. It left Sanji speechless at the rawness that shone through, his breaths coming unevenly and his eyes wild as they bore into Sanji desperately.

The blond could barely breathe himself.

"Why do you think I've tolerated you, huh?" Zoro continued, his fists clenched and shaking. "You're annoying and nosy and you irritate the hell out of me, but you're the only one!"

"The only one who what—?!" Sanji cried.

"The only one who looks at me, idiot!"

Sanji's mouth snapped shut. He couldn't respond, but Zoro didn't stop.

"You're the only one who sees me," Zoro huffed out as if he dreaded the fact itself but needed to get it out all the same. "Really sees me, acts like it really was a good thing Kaido—!"

But he cut himself off quickly, shaking his head and looking away, a mixture of pain and embarrassment contorting his features, enough that Sanji felt the sudden urge to reach out, to touch him and—he didn't know. But he could barely stand it...to see the swordsman standing there, struggling to throw his wall back up when it had already so futilely crumbled. He hated this. He hated seeing someone as strong as Zoro look so lost, so alone…

He hated how much he kept seeing himself in these people. It was a distorted mirror, at once comforting and terrifying.

He saw Zoro attempt to regain his composure, to take a deeper breath and push the emotion off his face. He managed, to a degree, his eyes hardening, though now that Sanji knew what lay beneath, it was hard to unsee the vulnerability he'd just witnessed.

The swordsman took another measured breath, closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them to look at Sanji's face, though he soon lost his nerve and dropped his gaze to Sanji's chest instead for his next words.

"If you leave, there's no one," he said quietly. "I can't prove myself to people who aren't willing to see. And neither can you."

Sanji, however, didn't take his eyes from the swordsman, his heart beating fast.

"What about the Empress…?" he finally managed to ask carefully.

Zoro shook his head, still not looking up.

"Hiyori saw something worth keeping around…" he muttered. "But the more responsibilities that fall on her shoulders, the harder it is for her to ignore the sentiments of the country. Not to mention Kawamatsu. He's protective to a fault...and he's always hated me…."

Again, Zoro trailed off, self-defeat creeping over him, the sight paining Sanji in turn.

"And Toko? Tama?" the blond tried.

Zoro snorted humorlessly, but Sanji heard the fondness when he muttered, "They're just wild little brats."

That left one more question pounding through Sanji's brain, one that terrified him beyond reason but left him hopeful at the same time.

"And what am I then?" he finally managed.

He expected a delay, a scoff perhaps or some measure of defiance. But this time, Zoro's response was quick and decisive, and suddenly, Zoro's dark eyes lifted to his with as much ferocity as the beast's had.

"Lucky."

Sanji's heart clenched. "...Lucky?"

Zoro nodded, unfaltering.

"Seals aside. You didn't end up like your father. Or Kaido, for that matter, or anyone here. If you had, well…" He paused for a moment, a tiny spark of his old teasing returning to his tone. "I would've killed you right away."

The blond jolted inwardly, his mind instantly returning to what the Empress had told him the previous day. That perhaps this meant Zoro….rather inexplicably, in his eyes...liked him.

The thought hadn't gotten any less weird. He didn't know what to say, feeling overwhelmed with the torrent of emotion that had threatened to drown both of them, right there in the garden.

In the end, it seemed he'd either be dead by Zoro's hand, or protected...

He could only stutter stupidly before finally uttering a somewhat bewildered, "It seems my life is in your hands either way..."

Zoro didn't respond to that, just stood there watching Sanji as if the blond held his life instead. As if that were even possible…

He seemed to be mustering the courage for something.

"So will you stay?" he finally asked, far quieter, features passive, but eyes ultimately betraying that persistently raw desperation.

Sanji sighed heavily and shook his head out of sheer disbelief.

How the hell had any of this happened in such a short time? Surely this couldn't be. Surely someone as proud as Zoro didn't want him around. Even if Sanji had so tried to see glimpses of Zoro's true self, surely the swordsman couldn't feel this strongly.

And yet, the longer it took Sanji to respond, the harder Zoro's breaths came, a subtle panic seeming to overtake him until he reached out to clamp a hand onto Sanji's arm, wrenching Sanji's gaze up to meet his.

"It's a request…" he said seriously. "Please….stay…"

Sanji's breath caught, hearing his own words from Amigasa spoken back to him.

When had he ever heard them directed at him?

Not even his own mother had—

...

Go, Sanji. I'll be fine without you.

…

He'd come back to find she'd left him alone.

He was always alone.

...

So why was Zoro gripping his wrist so tightly? Why was his hand so solid and warm?

Maybe, just maybe, Zoro was just as scared as him.

He sighed.

"If you want people to see you, Zoro, you have to make them look," he murmured, because for some reason it was easier to tell Zoro the words he knew he himself should live by.

Zoro didn't let go of him, just stared back somewhat helplessly.

"I don't know how," he breathed.

Neither did Sanji really...but he did know one thing.

"You figured it out with me."

Zoro shook his head. "...They're not like you…"

Swiftly, the telltale tightening of Sanji's throat returned, but he didn't allow it to grip him. Instead, he reached up to slowly remove Zoro's hand, his own fingers curling around the swordsman's wrist, feeling the rapid throb of Zoro's pulse there in the second before he let go, though it could have been his imagination.

"This better not be a trick to get me to comply," the blond said, trying to ease some of the tension hanging in the air, unconsciously backing up a step towards the palace again.

"Why would it be?" Zoro scoffed, looking flustered even as he tried to quip back with his usual snark. "M'not that good of an actor, dammit!"

"I dunno, you put on a good show when you first dragged me to the palace," Sanji replied, remembering all too well the predatory darkness that had clouded his eyes, his bruising grip.

Zoro growled. "I can drag you there again if that's what you want!"

Sanji huffed out a breath. What did he want…?

Was he allowed to want things now…? Because with Zoro, it was starting to feel like he could.

"I'll stay. For now..." he finally said, unable to deny the weight that seemed to lift from his shoulders with that statement.

And he was also unable to deny the pleasant stirring that yet again assaulted his chest when the swordsman's breath hitched, a surprising flash of pure relief and happiness lighting up Zoro's eyes, lingering long enough for Sanji to know it was real. He hadn't imagined that.

Sanji struggled to keep his own relief from showing. He'd already laid himself bare enough.

"But maybe you ought to consider leaving too…" he eventually said instead. After all, staying meant Zoro was still subject to the mistreatment he experienced nearly everywhere he went.

"I have nowhere to go—" Zoro muttered, but Sanji shrugged.

"Neither do I."

Zoro looked torn for a moment before he shook his head. "I can't…. I swore to protect the Empress."

"It seems she has plenty of protection already," Sanji justified, to which Zoro hissed out a breath. He leveled Sanji seriously then.

"My life belongs to the royal family…" Zoro asserted. "I can't break my oath…"

Zoro's hand came to his swords as he trailed off, almost instinctively, tracing the textured hilt of one as if to soothe himself.

Sanji's mind flashed to those stone dragons in the abandoned temple grounds, each representing a samurai virtue. Of course, one of them had been loyalty… But, despite the Empress' kindness, why should Zoro feel so obligated to live up to an exchange that had been forced upon him to begin with?

Sanji didn't know...but he had to grudgingly admit to the swordsman's bravery. Zoro wouldn't run, it seemed, and maybe that was something to be admired.

Sanji sighed with some degree of defeat, but said simply, "Then things need to change."

He didn't know how. He didn't know what he or Zoro could possibly do.

But he did know what the Empress could do. Or rather, what she possessed. Those scrolls…

"It doesn't matter what they think of me…" Zoro mumbled in reply, and dammit, why was he being passive? For someone so fired up about Sanji's situation, why should his own not matter?

"Oh, do you like being an outcast? 'Cause I sure as hell didn't!" the blond snapped, wanting that glimpse of strength back, that fire of Zoro's that so often set him ablaze too.

"They won't change," Zoro insisted.

"Not with that attitude."

"Why are you saying all this…?" the swordsman huffed, tossing up his hands, and for a moment, Sanji nearly told him what he'd learned of the scrolls. He nearly assured him there was hope, that maybe all they needed to do was convince the Empress to set the country right again. He didn't know if Zoro was aware of their existence, but it was too late. Sanji trusted him fully.

He kept his mouth shut though, retracting the thought at the last moment, though he met the swordsman's eye resolutely, where he saw an endearing flicker of confusion and uncertainty.

"Maybe, like the Empress," Sanji said slowly, picking his words carefully. "I can see something they can't…"

Zoro's stance shifted, brows lowering.

"See what?" he asked warily.

Sanji just scoffed. "A bulky oaf like you? Hard not to notice you."

Zoro let out an irritated breath, though his expression relaxed some as he mumbled, "Shut up…."

He fell quiet then for a moment, Sanji watching as the mosshead's small mind no doubt worked through something momentous. The idiot looked ready to explode for a minute, his face reddening and his gaze averting awkwardly.

Sanji wasn't sure what kind of outburst would follow…

But it wasn't an outburst at all. In fact, it was quite the opposite, and Sanji could barely make out his speech when the swordsman mumbled quietly under his breath, "D'youwannatrain f'real?"

"What was that?" the blond asked loudly by contrast, goading Zoro with an exaggerated hand to his ear.

Zoro growled, but spoke up defiantly.

"I said, do you wanna train for real?"

Sanji's brows shot up in mock surprise. "No sitting under waterfalls and talking about virtue?"

But again, Zoro surprised him when, instead of rising to the bait, he actually let out an amused breath, rolled his eyes and smiled, of all things.

It wasn't a big one, and it seemed to surprise him too for a second. But he didn't lose it entirely, and instead faced Sanji with a little more confidence.

"Not the whole time…" he said.

And Sanji surprised himself as well when he gave a genuine chuckle.

He felt light inside, the persistent whisper of his worries completely silenced to the point where they all seemed foolish, his panic from earlier blown completely from his mind. His father was still looking for him, yes, but Zoro had been right. His army was in Goa, which meant they had time to prepare. He had time to prepare.

He had time to get stronger, as he'd insisted Tama had. An actual future, if he dared hope for one. He'd never dared before, but now…

The blond wasn't thinking when he stepped closer to Zoro, closing the distance between them until they were nearly chest to chest.

The swordsman froze, even his own chest barely moving as he watched Sanji approach.

The wall between them continued to fall brick by brick, and suddenly, the weight of that sword at his hip was far more empowering than it ever had been.

"Then teach me how to fight, Zoro," Sanji said, fierce, determined, serious this time. "Teach me how to be strong like you."

Zoro stared back at him, his jaw clenching in a way that left Sanji fascinated, his gaze nearly dropping of its own accord to the swordsman's lips, which had parted with another shaky inhale.

"You only need me for one of those things," he finally said, eyes roving over Sanji's face.

Then he quickly turned away and walked off a few steps.

Sanji saw his hand lift to run over his mouth before he dropped his clenching fingers to his side again.

He stopped though, a few paces away, his head subtly tilting back over his shoulder where he jerked his chin for Sanji to follow him.

Sanji did, feeling, for the first time in his life, that maybe he could believe Zoro's unexpected words.

---

ACT I: FINISH