Ah, the final chapter. Sorry this took so long. (sheepish grin) A big thank you to all who have left me a review. I know Carmen is not an important character…in fact, she is almost insignificant in OP, and is in real danger of becoming a Mary-Sue here. (shudder) So thanks for reading this story and commenting on it anyway. It really meant a lot to me. (smile)
Chapter Four
Loguetown really did live up to its reputation of a bustling trading settlement.
Rows upon neat rows of white-walled shops selling every item a person might want, and then some. The streets were teeming with people, shoppers who milled about leisurely looking at the displays, merchants loudly hawking their wares from the doorways of their shops.
Stepping aside just in time, I narrowly missed getting knocked into by a harried young man trying to push his cart load of goods through the busy street. He flashed me an apologetic smile and mumbled something about a late delivery before he was rushing off again. I frowned after him and turned the corner, staring down yet another cobbled street lined on both sides with shops.
This place was a labyrinth! It must have hundreds of these twisting interconnected alleys and streets, all looking so infuriatingly similar!
How was I supposed to find Sanji in this maze? And for all I knew, he might not even be here yet. Or perhaps he had already left. I had given the other ships a cursory glance when we had docked but I hadn't actually expected to see a pirate sail fluttering blatantly from any of them. After all, Loguetown was also a Marine outpost and it would take a very stupid or a very careless pirate to do that.
I sighed in frustration. The chances were so slim, I was starting to wonder what made me think I would be able to find my opponent here in the first place.
Then abruptly, I saw him.
He was taller and more slender than he had seemed in the photograph. Dressed smartly in a dark suit that contrasted sharply with his bright blonde hair, he was hard to miss in the crowd of casually dressed shoppers. He was halfway down the street, strolling away leisurely in a relaxed slouch, his hands tucked nonchalantly in his pockets as he looked at the shops and passer-bys with detached interest.
I smiled. Finally!
"Sanji! I've been looking for you for such a long time, Sanji. It's been ten years."
He paused, turning around at the sound of his name. His face looked exactly the same as he did in the photograph but there was a vague sense of cheerfulness in his face that had replaced the sullenness. Whatever the bond between Zeff and him that had tied him to the restaurant for so long was, leaving the Baratie seemed good for him.
But from the blank expression on his face as he stood blinking confusedly at me, I knew he did not remember me.
Just as well. I was here to challenge him, not to renew our acquaintance.
"Her name is Carmen."
"The best cook in the East Blue."
He was silent for another moment and showed no sign of recognition at my disciples' introduction. Then he did a most unexpected thing.
"Oh! Such beauty!" His face came alight with a wide ecstatic grin, his visible eye aglow with adoration. "To think that such a beautiful lady is looking for me just makes me feel so…so blessed!" A shiver of delight ran through him as if to emphasize his point.
Before I knew it, he had gotten down on one bended knee in front of me, clasping my hand between both of his like it was the most precious jewel in the world. "It is my greatest honor to be able to meet you, Carmen-san." He cooed, gazing lovingly up at me almost shyly from beneath the fall of his blonde hair. His lips puckered, ready to kiss my hand.
For a fleeting moment, I was horrified and worried. What had years of living with a strict, violent master done to my poor friend!
But who was I to fault his crazy behavior. I too had gained some…shall we say, eccentricities of my own.
In the next instant, I had brought my weapon around and Sanji's enthusiastic kiss met rather painfully with the base of a frying pan.
Remarkably, he was unfazed. "Oh, what a passionate person is Carmen-san!" He exclaimed faintly, his expression still one of rapturous delight.
"Jose! Leo!" I shrilled. "Explain!"
"Yes!" My disciples jumped to comply, extending a stack of photographs towards Sanji. "Please have a look."
"What's this?" He leafed through the pictures, clearly puzzled. "Why, they are all photographs of cooks."
"Exactly!" Jose exclaimed, with an extravagant wave of his red banner. "They are all cooks of the East Blue, renown for their great culinary skills."
"But they have all been defeated by our esteemed teacher, Carmen!" Leo joined in, ending the presentation with a similar flourish. It would appear my disciples had picked up some of my eccentrically flamboyant style.
"Right." I smiled smugly at Sanji with one hand on my hip, fanning myself lazily with my feathered fan. "I am the best cook in the East Blue."
"Those cooks who competed with me are all worthless idiots, easy conquests." I shook my head. "I've thought there was no one left in East Blue who I can challenge."
"But," I glared at him, my rage rising again at the memory. "I saw the article about the Baratie, when you were still the assistant-head-chef there." My hands clenched into fists, as my voice dropped to a low angry growl. "It actually dared name you, you as the best cook in the East Blue, a master chef that the rest of us would never be able to be as good as."
Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I continued. "After that, I've searched every corner of the East Blue for you. It has taken me ten years."
"Actually, it's only been ten days."
"Carmen-san does like to exaggerate a bit when she speaks."
"Don't interrupt!" I smacked my disciples with my frying pan, before turning my attention back to the man still on one knee in front of me, looking slightly bemused, his lips clamped around an unlit cigarette in a miserable frown. I was suddenly reminded of what Zeff had said, that Sanji was indifferent to challenges and had no interest in using culinary skills in competitions. But I was determined to get what I want.
"Compete with me, Sanji!" I delivered the ultimatum, pointing a commanding finger at him. "Today, this afternoon at one, come to the cooking championship. I will definitely defeat you there!"
The grounds of the cooking championship were packed by the time one o'clock rolled around. I looked over at the eager faces of the contestants as they jostled each other at the booth before registration closed and frowned.
Pathetic! They weren't going to pose even a slight difficulty to me.
Then, I spotted Sanji, leaning back in chair with his feet propped insolently on the table, lazily smoking a cigarette. His eyes were dreamy, watching the wispy smoke rise contemplatively, as if his mind were a thousand miles away.
"Sanji! I'm glad you didn't run away and have decided to accept my challenge after all."
All languidness left him in an instant as he bounded to his feet and spun around. His face was a picture of delight and his eye glowed with an entirely different kind of dreamy as he beamed at me.
"Oh, Carmen-san! How wonderful to see you again!" He reached for my hand, mumbling. "Let me present you with a Reunion Kiss…"
Perhaps this was one of his specialty attacks just as my exaggerated cooking style was to confuse my opponents. But in any case, I was ready this time and my frying pan caught him neatly once again in the face.
"Ah…still as passionate as ever, Carmen-san…"
I shook my head in mild disgust and walked away. The championship began shortly and I soon lost myself in the competition. This was what I had been waiting for. Not that the early rounds presented any problems but nothing must go wrong.
This was my dream, my life's purpose! For this, I had waited for so long to claim what should be mine.
I will not be defeated!
Rounds came and went. I was scarcely aware of the time passing or how many cooks I had conquered. It was only when I heard the host announce it was time for the final round and I looked over at the other competitor and met his eyes that I realized, Sanji and I were the only ones left.
Yes, this was exactly the way I imagined it. I smiled to myself, trying to ignore an overly friendly Sanji who was waving his arms happily in the most enthusiastic manner at me. The man was a fool. He will be defeated and the world shall know who the real Best Cook was.
I cooked like I had never before, my hands moving with such speed and accuracy I was even amazed with myself. My eyes narrowed in concentration. I knew everything there is to know about cooking. How every slice must be precise, the time must be controlled to the last second, the temperature must be just right. How the sauces must posses the correct combination of flavors, rich enough to seduce the taste buds, varied to excite them but always leaving them wanting for more. I achieved all that and much more.
Bake and grill, steam and fry, roast and boil, my techniques were flawless as I poured in all my years of knowledge, experience and hard work, carefully distilled and refined for this very moment in time.
Even in the midst of my ferocious efforts, I couldn't help but snuck a curious gaze at Sanji. He worked quickly but with little flair, instead moving with a smooth economy that was filled with effortless grace. He looked serious and focused as he tossed the contents of the pan expertly, making the blue flames flare up for a moment but his blue eyes were distant and shining with a light which I had only seen when he talked about the All Blue. There was a faint smile on his lips, as if he was lost in some memory that he particularly cherished.
The competition ended. As we waited for the judge's verdict, I surveyed the plates of food Sanji had created set before me with a critical eye. The presentation was impeccable, there were dishes decorated elaborately with delicate carvings made out of fruits and there were others tastefully done in a minimalist style with nothing more than a sprig of thyme for adornment. The colours and textures were well-coordinated and his work showed attention to details and mostly, an eye for beauty.
However, there was nothing that my work didn't have.
Yet, when I picked a morsel of fish up with my fork and tasted it, the difference between us became clear.
The fish was cooked to perfection, seared lightly on the outside to give it a wonderfully crispy texture which complemented the soft juicy middle nicely. The light buttery sauce tinged with a hint of tangerine was refreshing but not overpowering, instead accentuating the freshness of the meat. His technique was perfect, just what I had expected of a good cook.
But it was this vague hint of something that lurked just beneath the taste of the sauce and fish that truly moved me. An illusive hint of sweetness that lingered like a satisfying aftertaste that filled me with an inexplicable joy.
I frowned and closed my eyes, savoring it carefully. What was this? A new technique? A secret ingredient?
It tasted like sunshine and the sea, like golden beaches and blue cloudless skies, like something precious and beautiful…
It tasted like hopes and dreams…
My eyes flew open; the fork trembled in my hand.
This, this was the taste of his very soul.
The image of Sanji as he worked suddenly flashed through my mind. The focus, the bright fire of passion in his eyes, lips curled into an easy half-smile, his expression thoughtful and serene, as if absorbed by a music that only his heart can hear. The food he created had been infused with his love, his hopes, his dreams of that legendary ocean…the very essence of his life!
I took a deep breath and stilled my shaking hand, setting the fork carefully down on the plate. All these years which I had given myself to improving my skills, which I had studied and practiced to get every technique right, every last tiny detail in the art perfect, I had forgotten the most important thing about being a cook. I had forgotten that to be a cook is ultimately to be of service to others. It is a task to be carried out with love; every dish prepared was a sincere offering of comfort, a show of care and an attempt at bringing joy.
The culinary arts were as much about skills as it was about heart.
I had forgotten that. My head bowed, ashamed.
I had lost. Sanji was the real master here, truly one deserving of the title of Best Cook.
Vaguely, I heard the host speak into the microphone, the tiny slip of paper with the result of the competition held before him. "And the winner is San-"
Suddenly, it was too much…too much! I couldn't take it anymore.
"Stop!" I burst out, shoving my chair back as I got to my feet abruptly. A deep hush spread over the crowd and the host was startled into silence. I could feel their eyes on me although I kept my head bowed, eyes glaring heatedly down at the napkin I had thrown down onto the table.
I was angry, angry at myself for being so stupid, so blind…
In a few quick strides, I was standing before Sanji. My hands were clenched into tight fists, trembling at my sides. I was practically shaking with fury, overwhelmed by the tidal wave of emotions surging through my heart. "I hate myself…I really hate myself…" I said to my shoes, unable to look at him. My voice was tight, choked, almost breaking. "After all these years, I…I…"
Finally, I dared risk a glance at my rival, my friend.
Sanji was looking utterly dumbfounded. The fork he held hung suspended in midair from his fingers as his hand froze while his only visible eye was wide and staring at me. Then, he must have understood something from my senseless outburst for his gaze softened. Where I had expected pity, or scorn, or a smirk as he gloated at besting me, there was only compassion and quiet understanding in his expression as he looked at me.
Suddenly, all the tension drained out of me, replaced by a strange sort of calm. I smiled, stretching out a hand to offer a congratulatory handshake. "You've won." I admitted with softly, with heartfelt sincerity. "The food you've made is really delicious."
He held my gaze for a moment longer, then his whole face lit up into a huge grin. "You are too kind, Carmen-san!" He gushed, setting aside his fork and rising fluidly to his feet. "I am honored to have the chance to be in a competition with you!"
Before I knew it, his arms were around me, drawing me into a warm embrace. His hair was soft against my cheek as he leaned close. "We're both chasing 'stupid' dreams, aren't we?" He whispered a little wistfully.
It was then, I knew he remembered.
A laugh bubbled up my throat and emerged bright and mirthful. It was perhaps the first that genuinely arose from pure joy in many years. I closed my eyes and I hugged my dear friend back, nodding into his shoulder. All these years, I had been slowly losing myself but right now, I felt I was starting to get some of it back.
"Next time." I said. "Next time we meet, I will defeat you."
He smiled. "I'll look forward to that."
He released me and stepped back. It was pretty obvious who had won but the host announced the winner anyway. The crowd broke into thunderous applause.
I watched as they bustled him off to collect his prize. There was a thoughtful stillness in his thin frame as he stood beside the magnificent elephant tuna, looking down at the beautiful fish. He placed a hand against gently the glistening blue skin, almost reverently, and stood like that for a long moment, his head bowed and his eyes distant.
Abruptly he looked up and turned around, looking across the crowd at me. Our eyes met and locked.
His face was alight with that wide excited grin, sparkling with boyish eagerness that brought me back to that lazy sunny afternoon-that seemed like a lifetime ago-on the aft deck of the Baratie when he had first told me about his dream.
But his eyes were filled with so much emotion, I thought he might cry.
Then, he blinked and the moment passed. Two people, his crewmates I supposed, finally pushed their way through the crowd to his side, their faces full of delight as they congratulated him. Sanji turned to them, beaming at the girl with bright orange hair and accepting a pat on the back from the young man with a strangely long nose. He spoke animatedly, and judging from the gestures he made with his hands, he was describing the dishes he intended to make with his beloved prize.
I smiled and slipped away. When he looked for me again in the crowd, I would have been gone from Loguetown with my disciples. But it didn't matter. I would work towards my dream, just as surely as he would his.
Someday, our dreams and paths shall cross again and we'll drink to my victory, with the crystal waters of the All Blue lapping at our feet.
The End
Author's notes:
Heh, sorry, I guess I took a bit of creative liberty with that final hug Sanji and Carmen shared because in the anime, I think her students actually managed to give Sanji a pan-in-the-face treatment before he could hug her. But I did try to follow what happened in the anime quite closely for the other conversations between them and the competition itself.
Okay, that's all. Hope this story had provided some amusement and enjoyment for all. Because a writer's work is also about heart, isn't it? (wink)