A/n: The One Piece fandom seems to be over flowing with fanfiction drabbles...so I thought "one more won't hurt." All my love to Sanji!
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece.
The sound of heavy boots treading across a hard wood floor clamored and disturbed the other wise still night. A tall, lean figure made way across the abandoned deck toward the rolling sea. Folding his arms lazily across the railing, Sanji peered out idly at the vast dark terrain. The sound of crashing waves against the side of the ship hummed lowly with in his ears as he released a half-hearted sigh.
The bitter scent of sea air invaded his nostrils with the passing of a brisk breeze. Musiing on the auroma, a small smirk crept upon his lips. Everything in this life was bitter at some point- even things he loved like food and women. And as with all things that couldn't be dealt with a swift kick, he would grit his teeth and bear it. After all, that was life.
Stricking a match along the rail, Sanji lit the end of the cigarette dangling between his slender fingers. Shaking the match out, he slid the cigarette between his thin lips and took a long drag. Exhaling, his hand rose to rub the dark stubble along his chin, the scent of smoke mingling with that of the salty sea. The lid of his unshaded eye dropped dramatically, along with its partnered curly eyebrow, to form a melancholy stare.
He couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy toward the others, sleeping soundly in their hammocks at his back. They weren't plagued by ghost like he was. For all of them their dreams were in sight, but Sanji was chasing after something that probably didn't even exist. Their was little doubt that Nami would find wonderful treasures or that Zoro would become the world's greatest swordsman and Luffy Pirate King. Sanji was begining to feel more like the ashes falling from his dwindling cigarette, floating in grey specks along the endless blue.
"So this is the life I've chosen," the blonde muttered sullenly.
The gourmet cook had orginally joined up with the Straw Hat crew in hopes of finding true love and adventure. So far he found plenty of adventure, but was falling incredibly short in the love department. Sure Nami-san was aboard, but you could hardly classify that as love. Besides, the navigator wasn't really giving him the time of day. But he didn't have anything to be upset about, right? He was fufilling his purpose as a chef aboard the Going Merry, not a soul had complained of going hungry yet. That's all he was after all, a lowly cook. He was no courageous pirate and didn't deserve the respect of such. Even the faint-hearted Usopp was steems above him.
Flipping his cigarette over board, Sanji groaned and pushed himself from the railing. Turning on the heels of his thick black boots, he headed back toward the coveted galley- his domain. Stepping inside, he gazed around the shadowed room with a sad smile. Everything was as familiar and in perfect ordered as he left it. The polished stove and shining utensils offered him an odd source of comfort. Collapsing unto the floor, his limbs relaxed as he sprawled out for sleep. Gazing up at the cob-web cluttered rafters, he came to peace with this life. Sanji had nothing to be ashamed of. This kitchen was his purpose and the key to all his dreams.
He would work and die here as a cook, as a pirate and as a man.