Author's Note: So I was inspired by Random Word Association, a Naruto story by CerealK, which I thought was beyond hilarious. A few weeks ago, my friend jokingly said, "I'm bored, want to discover the depths of my soul?" and having recently read that story, I was like, "Sure!" She wasn't serious, but we ended up doing it for like, a whole hour and I found out some interesting things. I, quite personally, don't put much faith in psychology, like Zoro, but she told me herself, after I explained what I thought each word meant, that I had gotten like, half of my assumptions correct. She wouldn't tell me the ones I had wrong, but it was fun. This chapter is actually a mix of two chapter ideas put into one (and yet it's not very long). Thanks for the reviews will be found below. Also, I know only the 4Kids dub does the lollipop thing, but I looked at other changes the 4Kids dub does and I was like, "NOO! YOU'RE RUINING ANIME!". I do not own One Piece, or Horton Hears A Who.


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 speak to the head chef 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 9: Zoro Roronoa: Kendo Champ, Part-Time Therapist


It had officially been three months since Zoro had first walked into the Baratie, almost three weeks since Sanji had been living with him and fifteen minutes since Zoro realized he didn't have a single fucking clue who Sanji was.

Though the cook didn't seem to know French, that didn't mean he wasn't a rogue from elsewhere. Maybe from America, or Brazil. Maybe he was Italian— no, but Italian was too similar to French for him to have possibly misunderstood what Zoro had said. So then, that could only mean he wasn't a foreign rogue. He could be an escaped member of the yakuza, but then that brought up questions like, if he was part of the yakuza, how was his fighting style so similar to savate and yet he had never heard of it? And if he ran away from the yakuza, didn't that mean he was good? But then again, Zoro could say that Sanji had no real fighting style, since he had never seen Sanji in an actual fight before. Maybe the blond fought differently than what Zoro thought. He couldn't be certain though. But everything about Sanji told him that he wasn't a rogue. But it could all be an act— dear God, you're paranoid, aren't you?

Needless to say Zoro needed answers before he drove himself up the wall and went insane. Or rather, more insane.

Catching Sanji off guard was harder than the swordsman anticipated.

You wouldn't think it'd be difficult. The blond had been put on house-arrest (or rather, apartment-arrest) curtesy of Zoro and could therefore, not escape any awkward conversations. Sanji had a way with words that lead to distracting Zoro whenever he brought up any questions that he desperately wanted the answer to. Sure, it was all okay when that question happened to be "What's your favourite movie?", but there were other questions, like, "Who's the head chef at the restaurant?" that caused him to get rather unhappy when the cook denied him answers. On some days, he'd be willing to share that he thought Rie Kugimiya needed a better job than playing tsunderes on shows were quite childish (followed by which, Zoro asked him how he knew of this voice actress if he thought she played stupid roles), or that he enjoyed watching the rain, but he'd never want to be caught in it. But then on other days he would refuse aggressively when asked where he had lived before the Baratie, or when questioned about why he had never run away before. He wouldn't even tell Zoro his favourite dish to cook— though, to be fair, Sanji's answer had been that no meal should be preferred over another in terms of taste, and therefore no meal should be favoured over another based on preparation.

"Hey, Marimo, breakfast is ready!"

Zoro looked up from his seat at the table to see Sanji offering a plate of eggs and bacon. He took it and grumbled under his breath non-coherent things.

"Hey, I was wondering, when'd you get those earrings?" Sanji gestured towards the three small golden hoops in Zoro's left ear.

"Hey, that's not fair!" Zoro said with a mouthful of food, so it came out more as; "'eh, 'sn't hair!"

Sanji laughed.

Zoro resisted the urge to smile. Every time Sanji laughed, it seemed less and less strained. He knew it wasn't the way Sanji's eyes came close to lighting up or the way the cook nearly smiled that made him feel such joy, it was surely just because as someone who had decided to take care of the curly browed cook, it was nice to know that he was warming up to him. No, it had nothing to do with the way Sanji's lips seemed to curl into a smirk that was far too alluring to be legal.

Zoro swallowed. "That's not fair!" he repeated, more clearly this time. "You can't ask me questions and expect me to give you answers while you refuse point-blank to answer any of mine!"

"I don't believe you gave me an answer," Sanji said. "I think this is completely fair."

"Look, I care about you, okay? Despite the fact that you're a downright bastard, you're a somewhat decent guy—"

"I'm flattered."

"Shut up!" Zoro sighed and tried to breathe calmly. "Look, I just think that as the one who's looking after you—"

"More like the one who's holding me against my will—"

"You haven't left yet!" Zoro snapped. "God, just shut up, will you? I don't have the patience for this, really, I don't. Let me just get this all out, alright?"

"Are we going to be like girls and braid our hair and shit?"

Zoro shook his head. "You're not helping." He waited a few moments for an apology, but he already knew Sanji wasn't going to give him one. "Anyway, I just want to know more about you. Is that a crime? I mean what do I know about you? You like poetry, you're obsessed with Shakespeare—"

"It's not an obsession!" Sanji cut in but Zoro rolled his eyes.

"Oh please! And what else? You can't speak French for shit, you kick fucking hard and yet have never heard of savate and you cook a fucking orgasmic sashimi! Sorry if I want to know more about the person who's invading my house!"

"This isn't a house, Marimo, it's an apartment. A fucking shit-hole apartment at that. And I didn't invade, need I remind you you were the one who adducted me, I'm the victim here!"

"Vraiment, tu es trop dramatique, n'est-ce pas?"

Sanji stared at him, confused. "Did you just insult me?"

"You'll never know," Zoro told him with a smirk. He didn't want to pick a fight with the cook, he honestly didn't, but he couldn't seem to get the cook to talk to him any way else. He was so reserved, so introverted and yet at the same time, he acted very social when it suited him. It was infuriating, it was almost like having a bipolar girlfriend nagging at him— wait, girlfriend? As in, a romantic relationship? Well, I suppose, the bastard's attractive, in a skinny, lean way— no, wait, he's a bastard! A secretive, conniving, sadistic bastard!

"Look, I'm not in the mood to fight with you, okay?" Sanji asked. "It's the morning and I'm tired and I just need some fucking sleep—"

"Did they come back?" The question slipped out before he cold stop himself. Recently, the cook's late night visits to his room had stopped. Zoro didn't have to keep himself half-awake to hear the soft sound of feet on the carpet outside his door, nor did he have to sleep till mid-day from exhaustion of staying up till four in the morning, learning how to stuff a turkey. Like he'd ever use that in real life. The nightmares had definitely stopped, or at least, he hoped they had stopped. Maybe the cook was just getting better at hiding his pain, after all, the cook was so selfless he probably thought his problems were a bother to others. Though Zoro would never admit it, he kind of missed the late night rendez-vous, for a reason he would totally never think too much about.

"No," Sanji replied, looking away from him. "No, I haven't had one in a while."

"Well that's a good thing, isn't it?" Zoro asked.

"Yeah …"

"So what's the problem?"

Sanji sighed and took a new cigarette from his pack. The smell had begun to linger in the apartment and for some reason, it didn't annoy Zoro as much as it used to. In fact, he had begun to relate the smell of nicotine to spices, seasoning and an indescribably intoxicating scent that Zoro swore could not be natural. To Sanji.

"It's nothing," the cook said. "Just thoughts keeping me up."

"About what?"

Sanji turned to him sharply. "What's it to you, Marimo? Must you stick your nose in everyone's fucking business?"

"When that person's under my roof, I think I have the right!"

"It's a shitty roof!"

"As you've mentioned before!"

For a reason neither of them could fathom, the two began to laugh. Zoro couldn't understand why, but his stomach started hurting as his body shook. In reality, throwing insults wasn't really all that funny and yet for reason reason, he found it hilarious. Perhaps it was because of the way Zoro hadn't even tried to deny the horrible quality of his apartment (though the landlord would have a field day should she ever hear about it), or the way Sanji had resorted to using such a stupid comeback. Whichever the case (thought Zoro suspected it was neither), the two were laughed and Sanji was wiping tears out of his eyes.

And that's when Zoro realized it.

The cook was actually laughing. He was laughing with abandon and there was no denying the way his lips curled upwards in a smile. Perhaps the smile was slightly crooked and could be thought of as a smirk and maybe Sanji didn't look the most attractive while he was laughing, holding onto the counter to steady himself, but Zoro was satisfied. Hearing a natural, happy laugh from the blond was something he had never witnessed before and now that he had, Zoro wondered why Sanji had ever bothered to warp it into a strange, cold, empty chuckle that sounded mocking. But then he remembered why.

Though the reason for their argument might have been forgotten by Sanji, Zoro didn't forget. He had to do something about it, because he knew that while the cook wasn't anywhere close to being ready to confront his problem head-on, he needed to heal and the first step towards healing was talking. And Goddammit, Zoro was going to make the fucking bastard talk, whether he wanted to or not.


"Sit on the couch."

Sanji looked up at Zoro from the stove. "But—"

"Don't question it, just do it, Curly Brow."

Zoro waited as Sanji turned off the stove and covered the pot with a lid before he sat down on Zoro's well-worn out couch. Zoro dropped his bag on the floor and brushed the sweat away from his face. A day at the gym had him tired out, but not tired enough that he wouldn't give this a try. He took a seat in the chair near the TV and looked Sanji straight in the eye, unblinkingly.

The blond met his gaze without hesitation.

There was silence. It wasn't the kind of silence Zoro was used to. Most of the time, there was a tense silence between him and his opponent before he utterly destroyed them in a match. Every now and then he and his strange oddball group of friends fell into an awkward silence as Usopp told yet another ridiculous lie, or Luffy said another ridiculously naive and pointless thought that no one really had to know. He knew awkward silence and tense silence. This was different. It was … comfortable. Like he didn't feel like he needed to say anything, didn't see a reason to break the silence.

But he had to, or else he'd never get anything done.

"Have you ever heard of the game Random Word Association?"

Sanji blinked. "What?"

"It's a game that people play when they're bored, usually works best with two people. One person says a word and the other person says the first word that pops into their head when they hear that other word," Zoro explained. "Hanging out with Luffy sometimes feels like an endless game of Random Word Association," he added as though as an afterthought.

"What does that have to do with me?" asked Sanji. "I was cooking dinner, so unless you want take-out—"

"Random Word Association is also used by therapists," Zoro cut him off. "They use it to psychoanalyze others and figure out things about their personality. It shows them what people relate to certain things and how long it takes the person to respond also tells them how willing they are to speak about a certain topic," Zoro elaborated. "Some guy named Freud came up with it."

"And your point is…?"

"I want to do a psychoanalysis. If you'll let me."

Sanji blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then—

"What the fuck?"

Zoro shook his head. "It's just for fun, I don't put much faith in psychology anyway. I have a timer and everything, so why don't we kill some time? Shouldn't take longer than maybe, fifteen minutes? That thing can cook on its own for that long, can't it, without worrying about needing to call 119, right?"

Sanji looked back at the stove with a frown.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

Sanji sighed. "I suppose …"

"So entertain me, it'll be fun," Zoro insisted. "Or are you scared I'm going to unlock your inner most secrets, cook?"

Sanji shook his head. "Just try me."

Zoro waited while Sanji went back to turn on the stove and took out his stopwatch. To be dreadfully honest, he hadn't expected Sanji to agree. This meant that all these words that were about to come out of his mouth were completely unprepared and would probably be random. There were certain words that Zoro knew he wanted to know what the cook had to say about, but there were others that had slipped his mind while on his way back from the gym.

When Sanji took his seat again, he smirked at Zoro. "So, are we going to get started?"

"Give me a sec, Curly Brow," Zoro shot back. He thought for a moment, his finger hovering over the start button on the stopwatch. "Okay. First one. Red."

Start.

"Blood."

Zero point three seconds.

Zoro wasn't sure if he should be concerned, but then again, when he thought of red, he thought of blood too. But this was a cook, he would've expected champagne or wine or some other kind of winery shit.

"Black."

"Death."

Zero point six seconds.

Wasn't black Sanji's favourite colour? It was still a fucking shade, but Zoro supposed it was a debatable topic to many people on the Earth so he decided to let the fact that the blond's favourite colour wasn't even a colour slide. Just this once. But taking zero point six seconds … did that mean death was a topic that Sanji didn't enjoy?

"Food."

"Cooking."

Zero point one seconds.

Zoro wanted to laugh at the reflex. Said like a true cook.

"Dreams."

"Illusions."

Zero point twenty-nine seconds.

Pessimistic, wasn't he? Though Zoro had to admit he saw no reason for Sanji to be optimistic.

"Fear."

"Pain."

Zero point forty-seven seconds.

"Friends."

"Non-existent."

One point seventy-eight seconds.

"Love."

"Hurts."

Two point seventeen seconds.

"Damaged."

Sanji looked away from him. He shook his head and bit his bottom lip, refusing to let the words come out. They had been doing so well and then Sanji had shut himself in again. This wasn't going to work if Sanji didn't trust him. And that gave Zoro an idea for his next word, if Sanji ever came up with an answer to this one. Sanji muttered something, but Zoro couldn't hear it.

Four point ninety-six seconds. Four point ninety-seven seconds. Ninety-eight. Ninety—

"Me."

Four point ninety-nine seconds.

Zoro stared at Sanji, dumbstruck. He wasn't sure if the blond realized it, but he had just opened up to Zoro in a way that he had never done before. It scared Zoro, to see the cook so open and yet at the very same time, Zoro was very glad he was the one seeing this vulnerable side to Sanji.

Zoro said nothing about Sanji's answer and moved onto the next word. "Trust."

"False."

Zero point five.

Okay, clearly someone had trust issues, not that Zoro could blame him.

"Nakama."

Sanji gave him a strange look. "What the fuck?" He shook his head. "You already said 'friend', you can't say 'nakama'."

"But nakama and friend are two different things," Zoro protested. "A friend is someone who's close to you, who you share things in common with, right? But a nakama is like family. They're closer than a friend, and sometimes you hate them, but you have to love them anyway, right? In the most platonic way possible, of course."

Sanji bit his bottom lip and sighed. Obviously he saw Zoro's point.

"I'll say it again Sanji. Nakama."

Sanji shifted and turned his head away from Zoro again, faster and more sharply this time.

Zoro waited.

Six point twenty-three seconds. Six point twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven—

"Sanji, I said nakama."

"I heard you, you fucking marimo!"

Six point thirty seconds.

"Then what's the fucking problem?" Zoro snapped.

If Zoro wasn't hallucinating, through the smoke he could've sworn he saw a light blush on Sanji's pale cheeks. "It's embarrassing," Sanji said.

"Fucking tell me," Zoro said, glaring at him.

Seven point nine seconds. Seven point ten, point eleven, point twelve—

"You."

It was so quiet, Zoro almost didn't hear it. Sanji was definitely blushing now, but he turned his head away and the smoke clouded him from the swordsman who was reeling from his answer. You. As in … Zoro? But, how? Why? It didn't make any sense. Another thing didn't make sense.

"But you said friends were non-existent, how can I be a fucking nakama?" Zoro demanded. "You have to be a friend at least to be nakama," Zoro insisted. "What the fuck is going on in your head, Curly Brow?"

"How am I supposed to fucking know?" Sanji snapped.

"It's your head!" Zoro snarled back.

"Well my head isn't the most sane place to be!" Sanji said, throwing his hands in the air. "You think this makes any sense to me? You've got to be fucking kidding me, this is insane! Utter and complete ludicrousness!" Sanji shook his head. "I can't even find words to describe how pissed off I am! Fuck, you're driving me up the wall!"

There was silence that fell over them both. This time, Zoro knew this silence. It was the tense silence that you were scared to break for fear of what would happen next. It was the silence that made your blood run cold and made you question your next move, trying to figure out what to do, what move is safest against your opponent. But Zoro's opponent was Sanji and he had no clue what to do with the cook.

Beep! Beep!

"Shit!"

Sanji sprinted up from the couch and ran into the kitchen, turning off the stove.

The tension was gone and the moment, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, was over.


"Let me try."

"Try what?" asked Zoro through a mouthful of Sanji's wonderful stir-fry meal.

Sanji's nose wrinkled in disgust as Zoro's lack of table manners.

In order to annoy the blond further, Zoro proceed to chew with his mouth open.

"I want to take a shot at this psychoanalysis thing too."

SPLAT!

Zoro recoiled as Sanji wiped his face clean of the combination of vegetables, rice and meat. He was clearly unamused as he pulled a piece of chicken out of his hair. He sent Zoro a glare before throwing away the napkin. "Was it so shocking you had to waste precious food, Marimo?" demanded Sanji with a frown.

What was the deal with this man and food?

"Give me your stopwatch, I'm going to give it a try. You left it on the coffee table, right?" Sanji stood up without a word and headed towards the coffee table, walking with a purposeful stride in his step.

"What do you know about psychology?" demanded Zoro, too stunned to move from the table.

"What do you know about psychology?" Sanji shot back, raising an eyebrow at him. Zoro wasn't able to formulate a response so instead, he merely sat there while Sanji walked back, tossing the stopwatch in the air and catching it swiftly with almost no effort.

"Asshole," Zoro muttered.

"Well, this asshole's going to psychoanalyze you, so tough luck," Sanji told him. He took his seat once more and lit up his next cigarette. "Hmm, what should I say?" He let the string of the watch intertwine between his knuckles, watching it as though fascinated. "Okay. Difficult."

Zoro rolled his eyes. "I'm not doing this."

"You did it to me, it's only fair I do it back. This wouldn't have been a problem had you decided you weren't all that interested in my psyche, but apparently, you, who doesn't believe in psychology, decided to take a gamble with my personality by throwing around random words and forcing me to associate them. What if you know my darkest, deepest inner secrets now? I can't let you run off, scot-free, so we're doing this. I didn't complain nearly as much as you are now so take it like a man. You are a man, right?"

That was it. Zoro had to do it now, Sanji had just put his manliness in question and therefore all cards were to be thrown on the table. Considering his little faith in psychology, he highly doubted Sanji would come up with anything concrete anyway.

"Fine, repeat your word," Zoro grumbled.

"Difficult," said Sanji, smirking, knowing he had won.

"Shitty bastards with curly eyebrows."

Zero point twenty-six seconds.

"You're allowed to say sentences?" Sanji asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I dunno," Zoro said with a shrug. "It was my first thought though, so it has to count."

"If long sentences count, then I want a redo!"

Zoro rolled his eyes. "You don't get a redo, that's part of the whole being a shitty bastard with curly eyebrows deal. Now ask— state, your next word."

Sanji grumbled, but conceded. "Fun."

"Winning."

Zero point three seconds.

"Friend."

"Idiots," came Zoro's immediate response.

Zero point two seconds.

Sanji let out a laugh. "What would they think if they heard you say that to their face?"

"I always say it to their face, it's no secret Luffy's as smart as a hammer," Zoro scoffed.

"Love."

"Bullshit."

Zero point four seconds.

Sanji laughed once more. "You're a negative person, aren't you?"

"You're the one who said love hurts," Zoro shot back. "Moving on?" he pressed. He just wanted Sanji to finish this bullshit analysis so he could finish his dinner and live in peace. Besides, he couldn't thoroughly dissect everything the cook said with him still in the room, so he had to make this "analysis" of Sanji's short, before he forgot all of Sanji's answers.

"Destiny."

"Bullshit."

Zero point two seconds.

"You already said bullshit," Sanji said.

"And I'll say it again," Zoro replied. "Doesn't make it any less true. What, does that mean I only get one bullshit per psychoanalysis?"

Sanji shook his head. "And if I said soulmates …?"

"Guess," Zoro challenged him.

"Bullshit?"

Zoro smirked. "What, don't tell me you believe in soulmates, Curly Brow?" Zoro asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, no," Sanji admitted, looking away. "But I have my reasons."

"And so do I, now are we done yet? Or do I have to wait until this food gets cold?"

"One more," Sanji said. He took a deep breath, as though steeling himself for Zoro's answer before he said, "Nakama."

Zoro stared Sanji straight in the eye. "You."

Zero point ninety-six seconds.

"What the fuck?"

Zoro smirked. "See how confusing that is?" Zoro threw his hands up in the air. "Don't ask me explain, cause I can't, but when you say nakama, I think of you. Apparently, we both think of each other. Not like it matters or anything," he added quickly. It couldn't mean anything. Zoro had absolutely no trust in psychology so this stupid word association game was nothing but to kill time and pretend to know what the other person was thinking. But still, he would never admit it, but hearing Sanji say that he thought of him when someone said "nakama" made him sort of, kind of, very insignificantly, almost like the size of that speck that lived on that dandelion fluff in Horton Hears A Who happy.

Of course, knowing it took the cook over seven seconds to figure it out was something he was a bit less enthusiastic about, but he'd take what he could get.

"Now, if you don't mind, Mr. I Think Of Death When Someone Mentions My Favourite Colour With Isn't A Fucking Colour, It's A Shade, I'm going to retire because quite frankly, I'm tired and I've stuffed my face enough. If I eat anymore of your food, I might become irreversibly bloated and I'm a kendo competitor, not a sumo wrestler."

With that, he bid the astounded cook goodnight and went into his room, unsure of what to think of the little game they had played.

He fell asleep to the sound of Sanji washing the dishes.


Author's Note #2: Now for the reviews!

lilcutieprincess: I hope you liked this chapter! Coming up with lies for Usopp was actually pretty easy, since I have a very overactive imagination. If you ever think of a lie, tell me! I'd be happy to hear it!

Nessiebaby: Wow, I'm really glad people look forward to my updates that much! It's very flattering!

JustCallMeLucie: That's a very ... interesting lie. In terms of Zeff appearing ... um ... I'm not actually sure when he'll turn up. Not very soon though,

fanfiction lover 228: Interesting lie once more. I have to say, drag queens? Not sure what to say about that, actually.

Guest: Um, I have bad news for you. I, quite personally, am a fan of developing relationships. To the point where everyone will hate me and scream that they've done EVERYTHING but had sex yet. I don't know, I'm a sucker for sweet moments and build up to cause tension and the like. As a result, there won't be bedroom action for a while. I checked my plots for the other chapters and realized that something isn't going to happen as soon as I thought it would. Hopefully though, you'll be patient. I'll try to make it real nice and worth the wait.

Crystalbluefox: Honesty is the best policy. I have to be honest: my writer's blocks are very few in number, but when they happen, it takes me leaving the country to get a new idea. I'm not kidding. Went away for vacation, was stuck on something and then when I came back, I had like, 5 chapters written. My writer's block lasts long, but the moment it's over, it's like I'm making up for lost time and I have a thousand ideas.

Guest #2: Yeah, last night I was looking at a comparison to Funimation and 4Kids. I felt like they killed anime.

Now my favourite lie? Had to be the one from Nessiebaby about how she's Sanji's wife from the future and then there was a wise spirit named ZoSan (the thing about their pairing name is that I think it would actually be a really awesome name for someone, don't you?) who told her that Sanji would be happiest with and I quote "this green headed dude". Yeah, that's my favourite.

Now for 2 questions, cause I realized that Zoro spoke French. AGAIN! My first question is: what did Zoro say? YOU ARE NOT TO USE GOOGLE TRANSLATE!

Second question: at one point, Sanji says that he thinks that Rie Kugimiya could do better than voice tsunderes. Now the definition of tsunderes, according to me, is a character (usually female) who has a very stand-offish personality and has tendencies to be violent in nature, but when put in certain situations is surprisingly sweet and nice. If you know any tsunderes, tell me their names and where they're from, and if you know more than one, tell me them all and then tell me which is your favourite. (Because I do more than watch One Piece, Bleach and Naruto, I also watch shows like Special A and Love Stage!)


1st Edit: August 6th 2015