Author's Note: Up until this point, all of the original chapter titles of this story have changed by the time they were updated with the exception of this one and chapter 1. Chapter 2 was going to be called Making A Deal With The Devil, chapter 3 was some other name I can't even remember, and chapter 4 went through so much hell. It was between Throwing In The Towel, A Long Time Coming, Cracking, and then when it was finally done, I realized how many times Sanji was wondering if anyone would care and so yeah, that became the title. Chapter 5 was supposed to be called Prideful Resistance, but because of the way it turned out, the name was dropped. This chapter also turned out differently than I expected. Originally, a scene in which Sanji actually learnt how the kidnapping happen was present, but then it was cut. It'll turn up some time later. I know this chapter is really different from the other ones, but it was a lot of fun to write and I know it's weird and maybe Sanji- never mind, Sanji SHOULD be more concerned about it, but I dunno, I liked the way this chapter flowed. I'm actually really nervous about the reaction to this story. There was originally a scene in here that's also missing and was moved to a new chapter. Anyway, I hope you guys like it! No flames, please review! I don't own One Piece and can anyone guess where Zoro's rant about himself came from? (Here's a hint, it's from a yaoi anime/manga.) Thanks for reviews are below. I updated faster cause I REALLY wanted to get this chapter up cause I really wanted to know others reaction. It's shorter than the others, but you know, the length of these chapters fluctuate.
Beautiful Disaster
By: Setkia
Full Summary
Sanji is the assistant cook of the world-renowned restaurant, the Baratie, the only restaurant like it in the world. He's a successful chef and flirts with the customers every chance he can get but there's a problem. It's all a facade. The cooks give a new meaning to the word "abusive", both mental and physical. The only thing keeping Sanji alive is his love for cooking and a good ol' pack of cigarettes.
Zoro Roronoa is a swordsman who suddenly has more change in his pocket than he expected and enters the Baratie by recommendation. His waiter happens to be a curly browed man with an adoration for cigarettes. An attempt to tip the man goes horribly wrong and he gets sucked into the crumbling world of the chef's, wondering how he can possibly save him and better yet, why does he want to save him in the first place?
Chapter 6: A Much Needed Kidnapping
Sanji opened his eyes blearily. There was too much light. It was too sunny.
Diving under the covers, he shielded his face with a warm blanket when he realized something.
It was sunny. There were covers and a blanket.
What the fuck was going on?
Sanji sat bolt up in bed— a fucking bed, why the fuck was he a bed?— and looked around him.
He didn't recognize his surroundings. He was on a large, king-sized bed covered in green sheets. The room had dark colours, different shades of grey and the pillows had green pillowcases. He couldn't wrap his mind around it and instead bit his lip, trying to remember. It was then that he realized he didn't have a cigarette in his mouth either.
Okay, think Sanji, think. Where the fuck are you?
Using his five senses, he slowly tried to piece together the mystery.
Sight. Okay. As far as he could see, he was in a bedroom with a large bed. The sheets had probably been recently cleaned and the room had dull colours, a colour scheme of green and different shades of grey. There was sun coming in from the window, the curtains drawn back. His blazer was laying over the back of a desk chair which was on to the side of the room. Suddenly in a panic, Sanji lifted the sheets and checked himself over. Other than his blazer and his shoes, he was wearing exactly what he remembered wearing before his memory seemed to have abandoned him. Directly across from him was a long full-length mirror. Immediately, Sanji averted his gaze from it. What else was in the room? Nothing else that seemed worth mentioning.
Scent. He could smell the fresh detergent of the sheets and steel and pine trees, something that reminded him of mint. Mint. Green. Sanji's mind was too tired to make the connection. The faint smell of steam also reached him as well as something nauseating, drafting in from some unknown location.
Taste. No. He was not eating anything in the room.
Touch. The sheets felt warm, the pillows fluffy but not too fluffy. Just right. Oh God, was he fucking Goldilocks now? He didn't think any of his limbs felt sore, nor did they feel like they were in pain.
Sound. He could hear the boiling of something, what he didn't know. There was a quiet moving of feet on the ground, the chirping of birds— it seemed too serene to be real. Clearly he was hallucinating, wasn't he? But then—
"FUCK!"
Was that …?
Sanji felt stupid. Green. Fucking green was around him and he couldn't figure it out? The smell of steel, pine and mint. God, was he fucking retarded? Sanji pulled himself out of the bed, suddenly feeling rather cold. The wooden floorboards were fucking freezing on his feet and with slightly unsteady balance from laying down for too long, Sanji began to stumble his way towards the smell of the steam.
He entered a kitchen where Zoro Roronoa was standing in front of the stove, something boiling in a pot. That's where that horrendous stench was coming from.
"Roronoa," Sanji growled.
Zoro turned around and Sanji couldn't help it. He had to stifle a laugh. Despite the situation in which he was certain he had been abducted, there was Zoro with an apron around his waist, holding a large wooden spoon in one hand, a firm expression on his face. He was glaring at the pot from the corner of his mouth. He had probably burnt himself on the stove. Amateur. Zoro placed both of his hands on his hips and Sanji nearly died of laughter, but he held it in and instead bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. Finally, when he was sure he wouldn't laugh and destroy the Marimo's pride (though the bastard fucking deserved it, what was this, invasion of the body snatchers?), he said, "What the fuck are you doing?"
Zoro said nothing. Instead, he turned back around to the pot of evil and continued to stir. Then, he pulled the spoon out of the pot and showed it to Sanji.
It looked like gunk. It looked like someone had put their boogers in muddy rain water and shook it and stirred it before deciding it looked too dreadful to be presentable and threw it into the trash. And then decided at the last minute that they had nothing else to serve.
"What is that?" asked Sanji, pointing towards the food imposture.
"Soup," said Zoro. "You should know, shouldn't you, Curly Brow?"
Sanji raised said curly brow. "In what country does that shit pass as food?"
Zoro gritted his teeth, obviously displeased with the cook's reaction to the food. "Eat it," he insisted with a growl.
Sanji shook his head. "No fucking way."
Zoro sighed frustratedly. "Look, won't you just eat the fucking soup? It's not going to kill you!"
"Are you sure? Because that looks like the kind of stuff that causes quarantines— OMPH!"
It was dreadful.
They say that 90% of what you smell is what you taste. Sanji wished he had been born without a nose. He could try to describe the dreadful concoction that was probably some kind of secret military stink bomb, or some poison that was yet to be tested by humans, but he'd rather not. With absolutely no chance to block his nose, the full taste and smell of so called "soup" hit him full force, leaving Sanji desperately wishing he had been born without half of his senses. It felt weird on his tongue, kind of like what he imagined leather would taste like. And corduroy. There was a problem when food started tasting like textiles.
Sanji's immediate knee-jerk reaction was to run to the sink and spit out the foul so-called "food", but judging by the look on Zoro's face as he waited for Sanji's reaction, he knew he couldn't do that to him. Even if Zoro was his kidnapper. He closed his eyes and braced himself before forcing the lump down his throat, trying not to wince as he did.
Zoro watched him.
Sanji swallowed, regretting it instantly. He was certain he'd be retching it up later. Or now, if he thought about it too much. Zoro continued to stare at him so Sanji steadied himself, bracing one hand on the counter and tried to give him a smile. It was one of the most forced smiles Sanji had ever given and that was saying something. He gave Zoro a thumbs-up sign and the green-haired man just shook his head.
"You can spit it out," Zoro told him. "I won't be offended."
Oh really? Cause you looked like you were really awaiting praise.
Sanji shook his head. "Can't." His voice sounded weird to his own ears. Had that goop done something to his vocal chords?
"What, do you mean you can't? Did it get stuck in your throat?"
Sanji shook his head again. "I swallowed it."
Zoro raised an eyebrow. "You swallowed it?"
Sanji nodded, thumping at his chest with a closed fist. "Yeah."
"You fucking swallowed it?" Zoro repeated, flabbergasted.
Sanji sighed. "Do I really have to repeat myself?" He felt wobbly on his feet and gripped the counter harder. "And it's been decided. You're not allowed in the kitchen ever again. It's lethal."
Zoro crossed his arms. "You know, you didn't have to eat it."
"You shoved it down my throat!"
"Well you didn't have to swallow it!"
"Of course I had to fucking swallow it, you damn marimo, or would you have liked my puke all over your walls?"
Zoro stared at him. He blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. And then he started laughing.
Zoro's entire body shook, one hand on his stomach, the other on the counter for support. The swordsman, for a reason Sanji couldn't fathom, thought this was fucking hilarious. Zoro shook his head as his laughter poured out of him and Sanji had to admit it was refreshing.
To hear laughter that wasn't of ridicule or malicious intent was rare for Sanji. He wasn't sure when the last time he had heard such a genuine laugh was. Zoro laughed with complete abandon. He didn't hold in anything from the large gasps of air he took to the snort that found its way out of his nose on the occasion.
Sanji waited, a part of him wishing he could join in but scared he had forgotten how to. When was the last time Sanji had laughed that freely? As though he had no cares in the world?
"You done?"
Zoro held up a finger, holding his stomach tightly. "Give me a second."
Sanji waited.
Finally, Zoro stood upright and with a few deep breaths, seemed totally fine once more. His breathing returned to normal, but he was wiping away tears of laughter. When was the last time Sanji had cried for a reason other than pain? No, he told himself firmly, going down that train of thought will only lead to more problems.
"Okay, now that you aren't going to die from lack of oxygen," Sanji said, unable to hide his amusement, "let's get back to the matter at hand, shall we? Why the hell did you fucking abduct me?"
Zoro shook his head. "I didn't abduct you, I was saving you."
"This is kidnapping!" Sanji retorted. "Shit, the other cooks, they're going to kill me! Fuck—" Sanji couldn't hold in the shiver at the thought of what awaited him when he returned to the Baratie. Patty and Carne had found a new way to break him down and keep his entire body sore, a way that the other cooks seemed to enjoy far too much.
"Hey, cook," Zoro said, grabbing Sanji's shoulders, stopping the cook from shaking. Sanji hadn't even noticed until he stopped and flinched from Zoro's touch. Zoro took a moment to breathe and — was that hurt in his eyes? "Listen to me. Yes, technically, I did take you from your work without your complete consent—"
"You know, this is considered illegal, right?"
"Oh please," Zoro said, rolling his eyes. "As if you wouldn't have run away at some point or another. I'm just giving you a head start." Zoro rubbed his arm sheepishly before taking a deep breath and starting over. It was almost funny how the swordsman struggled for the right words. "Look, if you stayed at the Baratie any longer, you'd have gotten yourself killed. Either by those cooks or by your own hands and I don't like the thought of you offing yourself."
"You'd be the only one," Sanji muttered to himself.
Zoro stared at him. "I was meaning to ask, but don't you have any family? Surely your parents know the shit you've been through—"
"They're dead."
"W-what?"
Sanji took a deep breath and sighed. "They're dead," he repeated. "Where'd you put my cigarettes, you marimo bastard?" Sanji asked, changing the subject immediately.
It seemed that Zoro wouldn't be so easily distracted though. "Before I help you give yourself lung cancer, I was wondering if you could tell me—"
"How they died?" Sanji cut him off. "Give me my cigarettes and I might tell you."
Zoro sighed but he left the room and came back with Sanji's blazer. Throwing it to him, Zoro leaned against the kitchen counter, waiting.
It appeared as though Zoro hadn't touched Sanji's pack. There were still the same amount of cigars as there had been before and his lighter was still in his pocket. Sanji took a cigarette out of the pack and lit it up, taking a deep inhalation. His cloudy state of mind beginning to dissipate. "What made you think you could cook, eh, Marimo?" asked Sanji once he felt more grounded.
Zoro looked the other way and Sanji vaguely remembered how Zoro still had a discomfort around smoke. Oh well. The man had abducted him, he'd have to pay the consequences of having a smoker in his house. "I asked you a question first."
Sanji shook his head and sighed. "I don't see how my parents' death is any of your fucking business."
Zoro gave Sanji a sideways glance. "Did I bring back bad memories?" he asked, looking oddly sympathetic.
"Nah, it's been ages," Sanji told him with a shrug. "It doesn't really bother me to talk about it, but you know, it seems like you're determined to find out everything about me all in one go."
Zoro shrugged. "You're … interesting."
"Glad to know I'm entertaining."
"That's not what I said—"
"Interesting and entertaining practically mean the same thing in my book," Sanji said. "Don't worry though," he added, "you're plenty entertaining to me too."
Zoro looked taken aback for a moment and turned his head away once more. Was that … a blush?
Sanji nearly let out a laugh, if he remembered how. Flicking the remains of his cigarette down the drain, he took out another one. "So, how about you explain to me how this happened?"
"Huh?"
"Don't give me that," Sanji said. "Obviously you kidnapped me against my will, but how'd you do it?"
Zoro stared at him sideways, tilting his head. "You don't remember?"
"Nope," Sanji replied, popping the p. He took a long drag of his cigarette before speaking again. "It's like I've got amnesia or something. My head hurts. Did you force vodka down my throat or something else besides that terrifying slop?"
Zoro frowned. "You don't have to be so cruel towards my cooking, I've never had to cook for anyone but myself—"
"Thank God for that."
Zoro's eyes narrowed. "So what does it matter if I can't cook sashimi like you can?"
"I never said it mattered. You're so touchy, Marimo."
"I am not touchy!"
"Hmm, that sounded a tad touchy, didn't it?"
"It did not!"
"Are you sure? I could record it and play it back for you."
"Argh, you're insufferable."
"If I'm so insufferable, why'd you bother?"
Sanji knew he shouldn't have brought it up. Though he desperately wanted to know how he ended up in the swordsman's apartment, he had been having the first normal conversation he had had in God knew how long but of course, he had to bring it up because otherwise it might drive him insane at night, wondering about whether or not Zoro was going to take his shinai to kill him in his sleep. Turning up to a tournament with a bloody sword would be hard to explain though.
"Because," Zoro said slowly, as though by saying his words slowly, his reasoning would come to him. "I …" He turned away from Sanji and ran a hand through his moss hair before throwing his hands up in the air. "I did it cause I fucking could, okay?"
"Actually, considering the legal-ness of your actions, I beg to differ."
Zoro growled and turned to Sanji. "I did it cause I fucking wanted to, is that what you want to hear?"
Sanji frowned. "But why would you want to?"
"Could you go five minutes without asking me a question?" Zoro demanded.
"Is it really the questions you don't like, or the answers that you don't have?" Sanji shot back. Zoro just stood there, his mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. Sanji nodded and put on his blazer. "As much fun as this has been, I have a job, which I have to get back to, so if you don't mind—HERK!"
Sanji was pulled back by the collar of his blazer and smashed into Zoro, who stood firm, the only way a swordsman could. Sanji was pressed up against Zoro's chest. Looking up at him, he noticed that the Marimo had dark grey eyes with the lightest flecks of hazel in them. It was a peculiar colour that Sanji had never seen elsewhere.
Zoro took a hold of Sanji's arm, his grip firmer than Sanji remembered and instantly, he recoiled from the taller man. He sprang away as fast as he could, his back hitting the other counter, his legs feeling weak. The memories that haunted him were back again and Zoro had already proven he wasn't the most gentle person, if it wasn't obvious from his choice of career in kenjustu and martial arts. Zoro stared at him in confusion, obviously not understanding why he had reacted the way he did.
Sanji held out a hand to stop Zoro from coming closer. "Just ... stay there," he told him, trying to find his voice. He shouldn't be freaking out. He knew Zoro wasn't the bad guy. He had done nothing wrong but Sanji got the feeling that any touch from anyone, no matter how kind (though Zoro had a strange way of showing it) would make him feel repulsed, insignificant and want to curl up in a ball in the corner and bleed out. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, he told himself, but with the memory brought to the forefront of his mind, Sanji couldn't make himself think of better times, if they even existed.
"Sorry," Zoro apologized after a few minutes of silence had passed between the two. "It's just … I don't want you working there. At least, not for a while."
"Pardon?"
Zoro chuckled, as though this were something funny. "You're overly polite, did you know?"
Sanji rolled his eyes. "Can you get to the fucking point already? Why can't I go back to my job? Not all of us can be fucking kendo champions and make money!"
"And yet you have the mouth of a sailor."
Sanji was starting to get really irritated with the green-haired man and he demonstrated his impatience by tapping his foot on the floor with aggravation.
"I think it's best for the sake of your health and sanity that you stay with me for a while," Zoro said.
"Stay with my fucking captor?" Sanji said incredulously. "Should I fear Stockholm syndrome?"
Zoro shook his head. "It's not a good environment, the Baratie, and I don't want you to get anymore fucked up than you already are."
"Oh gee, thanks."
"You know what I mean."
"What makes you think you're any better than the cooks at the Baratie?" Sanji snapped, sending him a glare. "I know close to nothing about you. You're a fucking enigma. You compete in kendo, you like meditation and apparently, enjoy having three piercings in your ear, but are strictly against smoking. I know your whole life story," he said sarcastically. "It's like staying with a complete stranger!"
"Okay," Zoro said. "Fair enough." He took a step closer to Sanji, enough to make the blond back up into the counter even further on instinct, but he was still far enough away that if Sanji tried to run, Zoro would have a little trouble keeping up with him. "My name's Zoro Roronoa. I'm twenty-two, soon to be twenty-three in about three months. My blood type is XF, I'm left-handed, my star sign is Scorpio, I had never tired sushi until I went to the Baratie. I practice Santoryu, I've stayed sober for almost two months now thanks to the Baratie and their fucking expensive drinks, my natural hair colour is green— don't pretend you weren't curious about it— and I have a slight scar on my cheek due to being kicked in the side of the face recently by an insane person who thinks black is a colour, when it's clearly a shade. There, do you know enough?"
Sanji just stood gaping at him.
It was clear that Zoro would not let him leave. Sanji was being held hostage, which was rather strange and though Sanji had been through various horrible experiences, this was one he had yet to encounter. Surprisingly though, he found that instead of feeling angry and pissed, he was grateful that out of all the rogue kidnappers in Japan, he had been kidnapped by Zoro Roronoa.
That didn't mean he didn't still want to kick his ass to China, but it could've been worse.
Sanji sighed. "And what about me? What makes you so sure I'm not some French rogue whose MO happens to be facial bruises curtesy of my shoes?" He had already given in, but he wanted to know what Zoro would say. It would surely be entertaining.
Zoro seemed to know he had won because he gave Sanji a smile and crossed his arms. "Mange ta merde."
Sanji stared at him blankly.
"See? Not French." Zoro chuckled before taking a paper out of the bottom drawer of his cupboard. "You in the mood for Chinese?"
"Huh?"
"Well, we've already established that I can't cook, I'm holding you hostage and I highly doubt you want to feed the one who abducted you, so I figure we'll resort to take-out."
There were tons of questions left in Sanji's mind.
Why was Zoro being so nice? How had he been abducted? Why couldn't he remember? What about his job at the Baratie? What did Zoro expect in return? What had the fucking bastard said in French that was so goddamn funny?
But instead of asking them, Sanji stored them away for another time and gave Zoro a smirk. "How about Italian?"
Author's Note #2: Thanks for the reviews!
lilcutieprincess: While I was writing that rink analogy, I kinda had this heart attack cause no matter how I spelt zamboni, my computer told me it was wrong so I was just like, "Is it not a word and we just pretended it existed?" but now I just stare at that red line underneath it and glare. Hope you liked the chapter!
fanfiction lover 228: Thank you, you have no idea how much that means to me! I thought I might be in over my head, writing a full story for my first ever One Piece story and I was only introduced to it like, 6 months ago or something (the anime, I mean). I haven't seen a lot of the anime cause it's really long and reading the stories for Sanji and Zoro are weird cause they keep mentioning things I don't know about, but I'm really glad you like it! It's always hard for me to enter a new fandom cause I don't know the reaction, especially when it's a fandom I don't know much about. I always feel like I'll be beaten up metaphorically by more professional writers who are gonna be like, "YOU'RE WRONG!". Anyway, I'm having fun with this AU and it might actually be my longest story that I have planned out. It'll probably be over 30 chapters. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, even if it was a bit weird.
S.P. Tripathi: So this is intriguing, is it? Well, that's something I've never been told before. I'm glad you like my stories, or at least my writing style, to look into things new things that I write. When I have time to rest (which means when I finish preparing for my dad's birthday and going through a few weeks of hardcore day camp and have this story straightened out) our little "thing" will be my top priority!
BONUS QUESTION: IF ANY OF YOU CAN TELL ME WHAT ZORO SAID, WITHOUT USING GOOGLE TRANSLATE, I WILL THINK OF A PROPER GIFT FOR YOU! (Fact: I didn't use Google translate to write Zoro's sentence, I am well educated in the French language.)
1st Edit: August 6th 2015
