Chapter the Second- Melting in your Mouth


Vanilla? What the hell is the bastard thinking?
His stomach growled unhappily, but even his nose knew that this was not the smell of anything edible. He had the strongest urge to turn his head over to the other side and get a better view, but unfortunately the cook had other plans.

The vanilla was, in fact, hand cream. One of Nami's exotic lotions for dealing with chaps and calluses and all those things that just prove your strength (why she desired to get rid of them, he'd never know) and made it easier to grip hilts. This became clear as the cook neared and the synthetic smell of ointment became more apparent.

The bandage removed itself as though it was made from air and slumped to the wooden floor beside Nami's bed. The sound of flint striking flint and the subsequent smell of ash confirmed that the cook had no clue that his 'patient' was still awake. After all, how many times had he made it clear that his lungs had to stay strong and even though the bastard may want to smoke near him, the cook would get his head ground into the earth if he so dared?

He was contemplating this idiocy when Sanji struck.

It was less the actual striking and more the terms of which the striking was preformed under. At that very moment, the captain of the ship had taken the responsibility of hooking an extremely large fish with a line tied to the back of the ship, causing it to rock violently. This, in turn, agitated the resting swordsman to a degree at which any normal man with a fractured spine would pass out from cracked bone rubbing against sensitive nerve endings.

There was a split second of nothing; pain hit him like a derailed train. Stars, points of light appeared in front of his eyes. Time stilled itself. The world floated into dark and red and pain, pain that was worse than anything he had ever experienced. It was Mihawk and Daz Bones all over again, a staged rerun of anguish.

And then there was Sanji.

His hands moved quickly, forcing Zoro back into the position he had been in only moments before; on his stomach with his back exposed. Cool and creamy, his fingers were ten points of light in a hell of darkness and pain. They stayed unmoving until Zoro's muscles quieted down and stopped their neurotic twitching from damaged nerve receptors. From there, the fingers spread outward until they joined as two palms, cool and smooth and creamy as their fingers if not even more.

With smooth and gentle movements that could only belong to a cook with years of experience, Zoro felt Sanji's hands begin to move to his shoulders. The cook's long fingers wrapped around the shoulder blades buried in Zoro's skin; years of tension he thought he had long since forgotten began to unwind like tangled knots soaked in oil.
"You awake now, swordsman?" The lack of the word 'shitty' slipped past his half-conscious mind.
"Nn. Ya."
"You've got the worst skin of any man I've ever met."
"Mmn? Whazzat supposta mean?"
"Chaps. Calluses. Bruises. Fergodsake, you should have seen Chopper for half of these wounds."
"Flesh wounds." He was really too tired to keep arguing after that, so he blocked out the sound of Sanji's voice and tried to pretend that someone else was working magic in his back. No good. He tried to figure out how many hours of training he was missing. Futility heaped upon futility.

Sanji's hands worked, plunging deeper and deeper into the exposed muscle in his back. It was heaven; it was heavenly. Stiffness and pain became nothing as the cook moved from his shoulders downwards, gently massaging and easing the cramping from only moments ago. Zoro felt strangely uneasy. He had gotten so used to the constant tension in his back that having it removed made him feel like he was within someone else's body.

No time was wasted. Sanji seemed to know the exact place where the pain was spawning from and worked into it. His fingers poked and rubbed and danced with a skilled and even pace. Impelled to a relaxation he had never known, Zoro drifted to unperturbed sleep.

And yet, in the last few moments of wake, her name passed out of his lips, a call to her lifeless corpse feeding the sweet earth. He had not known sleep this tranquil since the night her life was stolen down the stairs. He felt guilty, oh so guilty for forgetting her for even one instant.

Kuina…


He awoke in the same position he had fallen asleep in with the most alien feeling of unbearable loneliness. Guiltily, he recalled the dream that had plagued him since he lost her; he could still taste her lips in his.

No. It had been different. It was less of her and more of the base feeling, the want and the get. And the cook. The bastard, how dare the bastard afflict him with his presence in the last reservoir the swordsman had safe from his nakama?

The moonlight shone in through the open window, a breeze ruffled his mossy locks. If the circumstances had been any different, he would have been outside by now working off his nightmare until he was so exhausted there was nothing left to think about but sleep. Tonight he would have to let her face torment him again and again until the sun pierced his eyelids come morning.

Not that sleep would be a part of that calculation. His stomach woke up a little late compared to the rest of him but began to bitch again; screaming and crying like a child without its mother.

It was at this moment that the cook took the opportunity to waltz down the stairs like he had nothing better to do, carrying a tray (deftly balanced on one hand) with what seemed to be the dinner that Luffy forgot about.
"Oi. You awake?"
"Yeah." He wasn't going to make the mistake of not responding ever again, that was for sure.
"Brought you dinner." He placed the tray on Nami's night table, which had been cleared off for said purpose. At least he wouldn't have to face the embarrassment of having his stomach interject in whatever conversation the cook hoped to make by staying and watching him as he attempted to claim his meal.
"…Oh."

Fractured spines tend to get in the way of sitting up and enjoying a meal.

And by the way, Kanthia doesn't own One Piece in case you were wondering. Toei and Oda-Sensei do, and 4Kids owns some kind of alternate-universe One Piece in which One Piece sucks. OP Rap!

/kanthia writes-

nyan. warai. The drabble monster is stealing Kanthia's brain ;o-o
neeways, kanthia is -not- working on Rafteru at the moment. sorry about that. as for Sanji's newest patient, Kanthia likes to quote her brother:
"I could see that one coming from a million miles away."
yaoi abounds in chapter three, when kanthia botheres to write it. looks around >.> Sanji will have to confront Zoro's reawoken fear of fractured spines after a nightmare forces Zoro to realize that Kuina probably died of the same complications after falling down the stairs. Whee!

Kanthia really never meant to inject Kuina into the story, but she thinks it turned out better that way.
4Kids: SHE'S IN THE HOSPITAL!111one
Kanthia: O-x