Peeling Off the Layers, Until You're You (a One Piece Fanfiction) by Seth's Kiss:
A/N: Hi there, ladies, gents and everyone else! Hope you're all doing as well as you can be! Early chapter update, YAY! Feels like the world n' more when you achieve that, haha T-T" Hope you'll enjoy this chapter! Thank you all SO MUCH for reading this fic X3!
Responding to your reviews:
To Guest: Hello and thank you so much for your lovely review! Really? Gosh, thank you! SO MUCH! That really means a lot to hear, you have NO idea (I'm ugly, happy crying now)! I'm glad you like it, thank you! Hope you'll enjoy this chapter and the next ones as well! Please take care and be safe! Bella Ciao X3
Chapter 2: Seven Days
Sanji was a bit perplexed to be honest. And he was sincerely wondering if Zoro was broken. Or rather, if he really was taking up the challenge or not. Because it had been a day already, and all he saw the swordsman doing was lounge about and snore up a storm, as usual, drink like he was some bottomless pit, as usual, train, as usual, and brood ever so darkly, as usual. Not much convincing-him-to-go-back-with-him-to-the-crew going on really. ...Did he forget?
Clicking his tongue and focusing his attention back on his cooking, he decided he didn't care. It wasn't like he was going back anyway, not matter what Zoro's strategy was. If he had one...
But little did the blond male know, the green-haired swordsman actually had one. A strategy. A real good too, if Zoro could boldly declare so. He had called it the 'observe-the-fucking-stupid-idiot-shit-of-a-cook-to-figure-out-what-was-so-damn-grand-here-for-the-fucking-stupid-idiot-shit-of-a-cook-to-not-wanna-leave' strategy. The name was still a work in progress though.
So far, he really couldn't tell much. But as he stuck to his 'strategy', he began noticing a few things.
On the first day, Zoro genuinely didn't notice much, as mentioned before. He just sat there, on the side-lines, waiting to get what was so great about this place that Sanji didn't want to leave.
On the second day, he found that, although Sanji would speak to everyone and everybody on Momoiro Island, and seemingly got along with those Zoro came to know as the Newkama, the cook had no friends here. Now, whether this was because Sanji didn't want to associate with them or because he wanted to be by himself, Zoro had no clue. Yet.
All he had gathered was that anyone the swordsman spoke to couldn't claim to know more than three fundamental, rather common, knowledge about Sanji - that he was a Mugiwara Pirate; that he was a chef; that he was called Black Leg Sanji, due to his unique fighting-style.
On the third day, nothing much happened to be honest. And no, Zoro did certainly not get lost wandering. Nope. It took more than half of the entire day to find his way back. And when he did, on the way to the hotel he paused in his tracks, not far from Sanji's house, as he spied the latter staring out at the sea, at somewhere beyond the horizon's golden sunset, a melancholic air to his features.
On the fourth day, Zoro challenged Sanji to a fight, for old time's sake, for training, for the heck of it... However, not matter what he threw at the cook, the latter would only rage a slight, but never take the bait, never react, never strike back. And this baffled the swordsman beyond belief. Sanji? Not kicking him in the face as soon as he could? HUH?!
Then again maybe it was the skirts and dresses- Ah, but no. He'd seen Sanji kick a door down the day before yesterday, when a neighbour spitefully denied access to the common pantry, and put a lock on because someone - maybe Zoro - was scarfing down all their wine and beer. Well, then why?
That aside, Zoro picked up on something else he didn't pay much mind too. Till the next day.
On the fifth day, Zoro realized that Sanji avoided mirrors. Not in a vampire kind of way. Rather, he didn't look in one longer than he had to - usually it was to apply his THICK make-up in the morning, and then absolutely nada. And this was so ludicrous that he had only noted this now. At first, he assumed it was because of the make-up - Sanji had to put it on only as it was perhaps a custom on this island, but he actually was not a fan. That theory quickly turned to dust however, when the cook wouldn't even look at himself without make-up. Like at all. And suddenly, he found himself going over the crew's past events. Only for it to dawn upon him that, even back then he had never seen Sanji stare in the mirror. No longer than he had to.
On the sixth day, the swordsman caught Sanji reading off of cookbooks for instructions, line by line, instead of cooking from memory. And that was when Zoro came to grasp that, lately, the other's overall cooking efficiency and speed had diminished due to Sanji reading over and over the most basic and simplest of instructions. The end result was impeccable as ever, true, but the time the cook spent in the kitchen had one wondering if he hadn't deceased half-way. It was almost as if Sanji was so distracted that he couldn't even focus on one of the few things he was good at, besides fighting and flirting. Zoro came to the conclusion then that whatever the other could be thinking about, had to be pretty heavy.
On the seventh day, first thing at dawn, it all went downhill, pretty fast. With just a sentence...
They were alone, in Sanji's lounge - the cook had invited him for a drink. Since it was the last day, the cook was getting ready to bid Zoro goodbye, given nothing had changed or occurred. To him, the swordsman had freaking lost their bet. But then...
"You're fucking faking it."
Sharp clattering noises echoed within the walls of the place, as the tray he had been carrying came crashing to the floor as Sanji blanched and froze before his features twisted to cold rage.
"...WHAT?!"
"This. You. Every single fucking thing," pointed out Zoro firmly, indifferent as Sanji fumed "You might mean some of it, but not all of it. And it's what you're faking that's hurting you."
In the blink of an eye, Sanji had grabbed Zoro by his collar, glaring murder as he clenched teeth, the make-up he wore making his face darker, more ominous: "The HELL d'ya know, fucking Marimo?!"
"What I'm seeing," replied Zoro solemnly, calmly, not bothering to pull away "You don't wanna be here. But, also think you don't have anywhere else to go. Because... You're afraid."
A flash of shock, and fear, shone in those blue eyes, before it was all gone the next second, and then Sanji wrenched his hand away as though he'd been burnt: "You- Just... FUCK YOU. I fear nothing. Nothing, you hear?!"
Sanji turned around then about to walk away, decided on bringing an end to this conversation, but before he would get too far away, Zoro caught his wrists and drew him back towards him. Flaming with frustration and fury, Sanji was about to scream at the top of his lungs in his ire, but the seriousness of the swordsman's features, face-to-face with his, made him pause and go quiet.
"You fear nothing," echoed Zoro simply, before quirking an eyebrow "Why're shaking then?"
That, Sanji couldn't deny. He was. Very much so. Like a leaf. And it was not just the anger. "You fear somethin'," insisted Zoro steadfastly, before tilting his head a slight with a frown "Maybe even you don't know what it is yet, but you do."
"How can you possibly spout such bullshit to me when you have no IDEA what's going on?!"
"I would if you told me," pointed out the swordsman easily, even adding a slight shrug to that, but it did nothing to reassure or calm the other.
"Stop, just... STOP," intoned the blond male upon breaking free again, his features suddenly exhausted, before the glowering was back tenfold "You can't fucking psycho-analyse SHIT, you dense, direction-retarded baka Marimo, when you don't know A THING ABOUT ME!"
"Then tell me."
Eyes wide, Sanji, once again faltered, looking so utterly lost: "...You- You fucking say that, but-"
"But?" persisted Zoro, sincerely bewildered by this point, but also wanting to know, to help... Seeing the cook like this, was horrid. He looked like he just hated, everything about himself, and Zoro wanted to know why.
He had no clue why, but rather than mellow the other out with his genuine concern, Sanji's face closed up entirely and he shook his head, backing away: "Like hell you'd wanna know. Just...leave me alone, Zoro, please."
With those words said, the blond male just ran, his long golden hair trailing behind him as he dashed off and out of his house at full speed, not once looking back.
And though Zoro was quick to go after him, before searching high and low around the Island, he didn't find nor see Sanji for the rest of that day...
To be continued...
A/N: Dun-dun-DUN! DRAMA! Like, very lil' for me in real life but gosh, do I write about it. Do I feel bad? Very much, yes. Will I stop? ...Very unlikely. Odd jokes aside, this was short since I didn't want to dwell as long on the 'seven days' thing - I think there's enough here for the next Chapter, which is when we finally get answers from Sanji who'll stop avoiding them. Or maybe not, who knows?
That said, thank you SO much for reading, hope you enjoyed and that the following chapters meet your expectations! For the next update's date, please check out my FFnet Bio or Follow me on Twitter to stay tuned (I post Snippets of what I'm writing each week - Twitter's in Bio) X3 Bella Ciao!