Sanji Kitetsu Chapter 25
Sanji wakes up with a sharp gasp. His heart thunders in his ribcage. It takes him a long minute to take his mind off the blood-stained knife he was seeing in his dream and to orient himself in the dark dorm room. It wasn't a scary dream. If anything, it felt vivid and familiar, as if he had lived in that dream for years.
The crew is asleep. Chopper's soft snores are mixed with Usopp's broken sleep-talk from the bunk above him. He can barely see Luffy's arm draped over the adjacent upper bunk railing all the way down to the floor board. The mossy swordsman below him is completely still, making it hard to tell if he's actually sleeping.
Kuina-chan, how long have I been out?
It's almost 5, so about 4 hours. You might want to take your dose now.
Sanji gives the white lady his utmost gratitude for keeping track of time for him. It's such a blessing that Sanji's transformation lasts much longer while he sleeps, as they found out the night before. One dose of Zoro's blood, that usually lasts him half an hour while awake, can hold up to 5 hours overnight. Not to mention his injuries seem to heal even faster while sleeping too, thanks to which Chopper has already given him the "OK" to be out of bed. Sanji pulls out the flask of the swordsman's blood from under his pillow and takes a gulp. It shouldn't be long until he can stop being the blood-sucking vampire he currently is and return to his sword form.
Sanji grabs the almost empty pack of cigarette, inwardly thanking the moss head for remembering his side of the pledge. He makes his way out to the deck railing and lights one, taking in a satisfyingly slow draw before letting it all out in a long sigh. They're now far enough from the little reindeer's home island to not need winter jackets out on the deck. The smoke drifts through the cool morning air and dissipates toward the barely lit horizon.
The feeling of nicotine in his lungs takes him back to his dream, where a cigarette just like this hung from his mouth while he happily worked his hands. He was cooking, gutting a giant fish to be exact, in a yellow submarine and surrounded by people in hideous jumpsuit uniforms.
Sanji absently turns over his left hand and runs a finger across his palm. He can almost trace the tiny old scars there, scars from years of handling knives, scars he doesn't have. It was so realistic. Is that how dreams usually are? Come to think of it, that was the first dream he has ever had. He has never fallen asleep in his human form before, not until Chopper forced him to, if he doesn't count that incident on the mountain where he passed out from injuries and woke up naked in the-
Ahem... That was... He wasn't dreaming then, so it didn't count. And well, he doesn't dream in his sword form, so yes, first dream.
He sucks greedily on the cigarette filter and turns to examine the empty deck in an attempt to distract himself from the embarrassing memory. He recognizes the faint sound of the swordsman's weights being lifted from the floor, and he decides to follow the sound up the ladder to the crow's nest.
"C-Carmen-chan..." He whispers to himself as the cook's silhouette comes into view. She seems to be trying to pump the weight with both hands while keeping her night watch. The weight slips out of her hands and bangs on the creaky floor board just as she turns to look at him.
"My apologies, darling. I'm-"
"I know. Zoro's sword. You told me that yesterday." She mutters.
Sanji feels the urge to kick himself for reminding the cook, for showing himself in front of her again, for coming all the way up here to her hiding spot in search of company. Their first meeting the day before wasn't much better than what happened with Nami and Vivi. The fiery cook was more than a little disappointed to find out who Sanji really is, and he would have to be more oblivious than his idiotic master to not know that all three female members of the crew have been avoiding him.
"Now if you don't mind, I need to get started on breakfast."
"Oh, of course, my angel. Let me help you with that weight." He holds out his hand.
The cook hesitates for a long second or two before handing it over. They silently descend the ladder and make their way to the kitchen in the dim morning light. Sanji leaves the lump of metal in a corner and turns to leave the lady in peace when she speaks again.
"Uh... Zoro mentioned that you wanted to borrow the kitchen?"
"C-can I? I mean, is- is that OK with you?" Sanji's heart skips a beat, and it takes him a few seconds to move all the parts of his mouth to get the words out.
"You can handle the afternoon snack today. You're free to look in the pantry, but I want everything back in place when you finish."
Sanji might've involuntarily moved forward to give the cook a hug of appreciation, or maybe it was a kiss. Either way, the next thing he recalls is the flat bottom of an iron pan hitting him square in the face. He stops dead in his track before falling backwards onto the floor. A loud clank from the impact informs him that he's back in sword form.
Carmen panics and rushes him back to the men's dorm, where Zoro makes a huge fuss about him wandering alone before dumping another dose of blood on him. Chopper insists again that he stays in bed for the rest of the morning. It's all worth it though. He will be cooking in a few hours. Cooking! With his own, real, sword-turned-human hands! And he will find out once and for all if this itch he's been feeling is real.