Author's Note: So I looked on the actual main site, cause usually I read off the mobile site cause it's just easier for me, but apparently, everything I bold isn't there. Also, until I got 88 reviews, I couldn't see any of them for some reason. It was really weird, but anyway, I don't own One Piece or Cinderella, though I realize that Cinderella is a fairy tale and is from like, long, long ago, which means the copyright kinda isn't there anymore. So in case you forgot, this chapter is part of chapter 15, in the sense that while Zoro's running over to Nami to learn about his screwed up emotions, Sanji is doing this stuff. That's why I'm warning you, the dialogue at the very least from the beginning and a bit of the end are the same. Now I know this chapter is really angsty in comparison to others and when I got to the cutting part, I felt very poetic. But anyway, another thing: Patty calls Sanji a "fag". I hate this word, quite personally, because I wrote it once as an insult and my friend sent me a long explanation of what it meant and I was like, "Oh my God, I feel so bad!" and changed the insult and when I read the word, I actually feel sick, but I had to put it in here for the sake of the cook's douchebaggery. But seriously, I mean no offence by any of these insults. The thanks will be at the end.
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?
WARNINGS: the following things are present in this chapter of Beautiful Disaster:
Suicidal thoughts
Self-inflicted harm
Verbal abuse
Mentions of physical abuse, rape, self-harm
Chapter 16: Hello Old Friend
Sanji was going to puke.
The world was spinning and he was sure his stomach couldn't handle the contents from the night before. He could vaguely remember what happened, the general point of getting Zoro drunk was to get him loose enough to talk to Sanji and give him a reason for the kiss. Even if Zoro had given Sanji an answer, Sanji couldn't remember it. He hadn't expected Zoro to ask so man questions he was uncomfortable with to the point where he drank as much as Zoro himself.
Rushing off the floor, Sanji raced to the bathroom and leaned over the toilet bowl. He felt as though his dinner was fighting its way back up his throat, trying to force itself out. He opened his mouth slightly, waiting for his stomach to empty its contents, but nothing happened but a harsh pull from his bowels. God this hurt, when was the last time Sanji puked?
Oh God, it did not feel good.
As the food and other bits of something that Sanji preferred not to name came out, he held his stomach and tried not to cringe. The smell was worse, mixed in with his morning breath, he was surprised he hadn't passed out from the stench of his own vomit.
"Sanji?"
Great and now the swordsman was here! Fan-fucking-tastic! This is your fault you know, if you hadn't asked so many personal questions, I wouldn't have had to drink!
"I hate you."
There was silence for a while before Zoro spoke. "You know, this is your fault."
"Don't remind me," Sanji snapped. He took a few deep breaths, not able to pull his eyes away from the disgusting contents of the toilet bowl. Fuck, he hated alcohol.
"How's your stomach? Do your sides hurt?"
"What, are you a doctor now?" Sanji lurched forward, his stomach convulsing, but nothing was coming out. He kind of wished something would come out, so he could just empty his stomach and be done with it, but of course, that couldn't happen. He wrapped an arm around his stomach, holding it. For some reason, being stuck with a horrible hangover while Zoro played doctor seemed hilarious to him. He let out a laugh, though it sounded incredibly fake, even to his own ears. He leaned back over the bowl. Sanji didn't think the puking was over just yet.
"I'll get you some Tylenol," he heard Zoro say vaguely while he focused on trying to empty his stomach.
Sanji heard the scrambling of feet and was left to his thoughts.
He remembered once he had tried to make himself puke. Only once and it had been awful. Sticking his finger down his throat and praying the meal would come back up. It was during that time when he was thirteen and one of the cooks had started to call him fat. The acidic feeling in his mouth hadn't been pleasant and when it was over, he felt horrible about wasting precious food Zeff had made. He never did it again.
Zoro was back sooner than Sanji expected and handed him a glass of water and a pill. "Before you take them, do you think you're going to puke again?"
"Why does that matter?" asked Sanji, grabbing them out of Zoro's hands. If it would stop the pounding headache that made him feel like someone was persistently smacking a hammer at his head any better, he didn't care.
"It takes a few minutes for them to kick in, but if you hurl them out before they take affect, they're pointless. It's counter-productive."
Sanji rolled his eyes. "Just let me take them, bastard." He tossed his head back and swallowed, before drinking the water to get rid of the scratchy feeling in his throat. Zoro was looking at him strangely, as though what Sanji was doing was wrong and Sanji just ignored him. The nausea was making his head spin.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Zoro said, as though he knew everything, ha! Sanji found himself satisfied that Zoro had turned his head away and … was that a blush starting on his cheeks? What could possibly have the swordsman blushing?
Sanji stood up, his legs feeling like jelly. It was hard to stand, but he somehow managed and got himself upright.
"Anyway, what do you remember?" Zoro asked.
Give me a fucking minute, I'm trying to find my centre of gravity! Sanji blinked a few times once he was sure he was balanced. "Um …"
"Hmm…. oi! Marimo, is all your hair really green?"
Zoro shook his head. "'ve already told ya, it's green!"
"All of it?"
"All of it!"
Sanji smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Prove it!"
Zoro seemed to think for a moment. Then he stood up and began to pull off his shirt.
"…well, green is your natural colour." Sanji knew there was something else that had happened after Zoro had dropped his shirt, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Why couldn't he remember? "Course, you don't explain why at all or anything," he added with a frown. "What kind of screwed up genes do you have?"
"What kind of screwed up genes do you have, Curly Brow?" Zoro shot back.
Sanji couldn't think of a response. What was it with Zoro's obsession with his eyebrows? Then again, what was it with Sanji's obsession with Zoro's hair? Instead of trying to come up with some impossible answer, Sanji strode out of the bathroom, calling behind him, "Hungry, Marimo?"
"You wish, cook."
Sanji could hear Zoro's stomach growl from the kitchen.
"How's bacon and eggs?"
"Fine with me."
Breakfast was silent, but while Sanji sat across the table from Zoro, he came to wonder something. In three days, it would officially be two months since he had been staying at Zoro's. You'd think by now the cooks would file a missing person's report. Then again, they're bastards so I shouldn't expect anything less.
As the hours wore on, Sanji became more and more curious about it. What was going on at the Baratie nowadays? Searching through his blazer, he pulled out his packet, in need of a smoke. When he realized he was drawing up thin air, an idea came to mind.
"Hey Zoro, I'm out of cigarettes," Sanji called to the swordsman. Knowing his horrible sense of direction, Sanji could easily slip out of the apartment for a while during the time that Zoro was out searching for the drug store. "Could you buy me a pack?"
"King Ground, right?"
"Yeah," Sanji replied, surprised that Zoro remembered.
"Alright, then I guess I'm going out."
Though it had been his intention to get the green-haired man out of the apartment, it still felt strange that he was agreeing so quickly.
Watching the man leave, he cleaned up the kitchen and then made his way to the Baratie.
Though it had been a while since he had stepped inside, it still felt the same. The atmosphere still looked amazing, the customers were all happy and smiling. There wasn't a single thing going wrong. But Sanji also remembered the way it was in the kitchen and it sent cold shivers down his spine.
He looked around for familiar faces and found Moodie. She was sitting with Fullbody, as usual, her face grimmer than usual. She almost always managed to plaster on a believable fake smile, which was why Sanji had to give her his respect, seeing as every now and then, even he knew his smiles weren't convincing enough, but what had happened?
Walking over to her, he smiled and bent down on one knee next to her chair. "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."
Moodie smiled and looked down at him. "Sanji!" She looked over at Fullbody and gave him a fake smile. "Would you mind if I spoke to my friend?"
Fullbody's mouth drew into a thin line, but he nodded. Curtly, but he nodded all the same.
Moodie and Sanji went to a corner of the room where there was little activity. Sanji felt remarkably bad. During his time with Zoro, he had thought of the Baratie, but he had thought of it as a hinderance, as something he wanted to shake off from him and yet he was handcuffed to it entirely, like it was a dead weight. But he had completely forgotten about the customers, the ones who enjoyed meals here and the ones who came to speak to others and hold business meetings. It wasn't the Baratie that was evil, it was the cooks in the kitchen who were. Moodie suffered by being associated with Fullbody, he was someone that she was definitely not fond of, yet Sanji couldn't understand why they were together. If it made her unhappy, why were they still together?
"It's been a long time, Sanji," Moodie said. Her eyes held a little more sadness than usual. "Where have you been?"
"That's not important," Sanji assured her. "I've been well. I wish I could say the same to you."
"It's nothing, really," Moodie told him with a small smile. A fake one.
"Don't give me that," Sanji said. "A lady with your grace should never be in such a forced relationship. Why are you doing this to yourself?"
Moodie looked away from him. "You're young Sanji, aren't you?"
"You're not very old yourself," Sanji reminded her.
"According to my father, I'm too old to be unmarried."
Sanji's eyes widened. Unmarried? Did that mean …?
"Moodie, look me in the eyes," he told her in a gentle voice.
Slowly, the blonde turned her gaze towards Sanji, but she was no doubt unhappy to do so.
Sanji took her chin in his hand and gently brought her gaze up to his. "Are you happy with Fullbody?"
Moodie tried to pull away from Sanji, but he wouldn't let her go. "Sanji …"
"Are you happy with Fullbody?" he repeated.
Moodie let out a sigh. "…No," she admitted in a quiet voice.
"Okay then." Sanji let go of her. "Then I'm going to tell you this. You are a strong and independent woman. You were gifted with an unimaginable amount of beauty, and you're smart as well. You are not going to settle for a bastard like Fullbody, I won't allow it. Arranged marriages and the such can go to hell for all I care, but you are not settling. A woman like yourself should never have to settle."
Moodie stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. There were tears beginning to well in her eyes. "Sanji …"
"You are going to speak to your father, you hear me?" Sanji asked. "You're going to speak to him and you're going to discuss the situation and what's happening because I swear on my parents graves, you are not marrying him. Not while I'm alive."
Moodie gave him a bittersweet smile. "I wish it were that easy, Sanji," she told him.
"It is that easy," Sanji insisted. "Moodie, if you want something, if you don't like the way things are, then you change them. You change them until things are the way you want them to be because no one, especially not you, has to settle for something as disgusting as that man over there."
"Oh Sanji …" Moodie stared into his eyes, leaning slightly closer to him. "If you were only a few years older, or perhaps I were a few years younger …"
Sanji's eyes nearly widened when he realized what she was implying. "Moodie …"
Moodie turned her head away. "I wish I had the same idealism as you Sanji," she said. "But for adults, the world is very different than you think. You've only started to enter this world, you can't possibly understand—"
"Bullshit!" Sanji couldn't help feeling awful for his sudden outburst, or his horrible use of language in front of such a lady, but he bit his lip and swallowed his pride to stop himself from instantly falling to his knees, begging for forgiveness. Instead, he hastily continued. "Pardon me for my language, but it doesn't have to be idealism, it can be reality. You just need to have the will to make it that way."
Moodie shook her head. "I don't know …"
Sanji nodded slowly. "I can't force you to do anything, but I know you'll do whatever you think is right when it comes down to it." He checked his watch. "I have to get going, but I'll visit some time later, okay?"
Moodie nodded, looking at him with heartbroken eyes and yet at the same time with acceptance.
As Sanji watched Moodie return to Fullbody, he couldn't help wondering what he had just done.
Since when did he intervene in others lives like that? Of course, he always gave Moodie encouragement over her bad relationship with the lieutenant, but at the same time, he kept his distance, knowing it wasn't his business to get mixed into her affairs. And yet … was this a side affect of living with Zoro? Did that mean he'd become more nosy? Feel the need to make everything his business?
But Sanji knew he was looking at it in a negative way when really, it was a good thing. At least, in his case.
If Sanji were to remember himself before meeting Zoro, he'd like to think he'd changed over the time he'd be taken under Zoro's wing. He knew now he wouldn't stand for the abuse, he would figure out a way until his idealism as Moodie called it became reality. He would work hard, he'd give those cooks his mind back two-fold, no, three-fold, no, that wasn't even enough. He'd drive them into the ground till they were begging for mercy! That's what he'd do.
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Sanji prepared to leave the restaurant when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
It wasn't the callused hand he was used to touching him, it was rougher, larger. He counted in his mind. Over the times at the bar, Zoro's friends had learnt that Sanji wasn't the biggest fan of physical contact. It made him uncomfortable and horrible memories were brought back into light. Normally, they'd let go after about two seconds, once they realized his discomfort. Usopp had sympathized with him about it, talking about how he had an older brother who had the same condition who went to an all-boys boarding school and had been traumatized early on in his life, but his roommate kept hitting on him anyway. Sanji was sure Usopp was lying.
Two point ninety-seven, point ninety-eight, ninety-nine, three …
They still didn't let go. In fact, their hand tightened its grip on his shoulder and Sanji remembered he was at the Baratie, not Partys. No one here knew about his problem. But even if they did, that hand felt too familiar. A shiver ran through him and he wondered if he had really forgotten about it, had a nearly two months with Zoro really made him forget so easily?
"Sir, if you could please—"
"So it is you, eh, Sanji?"
Sanji felt his blood run cold. He had thought, of course, but to hear his voice was a confirmation.
"Patty, please, let me go."
He could feel Patty's breath on his neck, his horrible stench only reaching Sanji now. "Oh yeah?" asked the bastard, his lips brushing against Sanji's ear. "The slut's going to beg for it?"
Sanji tried to get out of his grasp, but Patty's hand moved from his shoulder to his arm, gripping it tightly. If Sanji injured his arm, he'd have trouble cooking. Patty knew that.
"Where's Roronoa?" asked Patty. "Is he somewhere close by? Watching out for his little whore?"
"Fuck you," Sanji said through clenched teeth. If he threw a fit here in the middle of the restaurant, there would be problems. He couldn't ruin the reputation the Baratie had earned.
"Gotten feisty, have you, Sanji?"
Close your eyes. Think of something else. Think of happier times. And this time, Sanji could. The kitchen, cooking late at night with Zoro while the swordsman barely kept his eyes open, watching while Sanji taught him about the way of making sushi. The way Zoro would sit at that one table that had the best view of the ring to watch Sanji fight. Sanji knew it was the best cause he sat there whenever he saw Luffy fight and he and Zoro would analyze the fight and no matter where it went, they could follow it. He thought of the time when Zoro decided that going grocery shopping with Sanji was better than alone since it was easier to find all those fancy named products and spices that Sanji was always short of because Zoro still thought he was in the dairy section when he was really in the canned food aisle.
"Are you ignoring me?" demanded Patty. "Fucking bitch, open your eyes! Get that smile off your face!"
SMACK!
Sanji jolted forward at the unexpected hit that came to his ass. Wasn't that the way it had started? The first time they had … Sanji kept his eyes close and instead used the advantage of being forced forward to his advantage. He kicked his feet as he went, shocking Patty enough to let him go. He then scrambled away from him in the most dignified way he could. Fuck, he had no dignity anymore, he didn't know why he was trying.
"What the fuck?" demanded Patty. In a few strides, he was in front of Sanji and pulling him by the front of his suit. "Where's your Sugar Daddy? Eh? Where's the great Zoro Roronoa now that his slut's in trouble?" Patty let out a laugh. He wasn't loud when he spoke, but Sanji wished he was. He wished someone would notice. The others kept on eating while Patty put Sanji back on the ground. "Don't think you're better than us, because you're not, shit cook," he said.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Sanji mumbled.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing."
"Wonderful. Now get back into the damn kitchen, fucking whore," Patty ordered him.
Sanji was tempted to go. To enter the large kitchen and pick up his knife once more, slash at a few vegetables before he slashed a bit at some veins but then he remembered Zoro.
"I'm quitting."
He had said it over at thousand times. Zoro was trying to quit drinking and while Sanji knew he couldn't live without a cigarette— not having one at the moment was driving him insane— he knew that the cutting … the cutting was something he should be able to live without. He already had a few burn marks on his body from mistakes in the kitchen, cuts on his thumb and a few on his arms for peeling mistakes, there was no reason to add more. Zoro had battle scars, Sanji had mistakes etched into his skin, a lesson coming with each one. He wasn't going to add more. He had to believe he was stronger than that.
"No."
Patty stared at Sanji.
"What'd you say?"
"I said no," Sanji repeated. He turned on his heel to leave when he was grabbed by his collar and forced back. He felt like choking and nearly coughed but he bit his lip fiercely, holding in all sounds. His lip was probably bleeding now.
"You think you're in a position to deny me?" Patty shook his head. Up close in Sanji's face in a quiet, dangerous sounding whisper, Patty spoke. "What would Zeff think, eh, shit cook?"
Sanji couldn't help but feel shaken at the mention of Zeff.
Zeff was … Zeff was the father Sanji didn't have. Zeff was the person who forced Sanji onto his knees, holding him down until Sanji finally learnt to play dirty and cheat his way out. Zeff was the person who gave Sanji a home, the one who helped him escape and though he was put in a new kind of prison, it was better than that damn cell, anything was better than it.
Maybe Zeff would be disappointed.
"I didn't bring you up to be a coward, Sanji!" He could hear the head chef lecturing him. "I didn't teach you to run with your tail between your legs! What kind of a man are you if you can't fight? Where did I go wrong with you?"
Sanji shook his head. No, that wasn't right. At this point in time, after what Sanji had endured, he knew what Zeff would say.
"It's about time you got out. It's about time you stopped being a coward and realized that there is a way out, there is a path. Are you just going to let it be hidden in the trees again? You're a coward if you don't go for it."
"Zeff," Sanji said slowly, "would be proud."
"Excuse me?"
"Zeff would be proud," Sanji repeated. "That I've finally gotten a mind of my own!" He gave a harsh kick and Patty was forced away from him, onto the ground. "I'm a human being," Sanji said. "I've got feelings, I have dreams and none of them involve being here. None of them, you hear me? I have my pride and I have my dignity and I'm not going to let you bastard cooks crush it. I have places to go, I have a place I can go that isn't here. I have a place that I … that I can call home, which is more than you'll ever know!"
Patty sat up from the floor and raised a single leg to himself. He smirked. "You think you do."
Sanji knew he should've left right then. He had said what he wanted to, he had taken Patty down a peg, he should be able to leave. But he didn't leave. He didn't leave and instead, he took the bait. "What do you mean?"
Patty laughed. "You think that moss headed idiot cares about you? Maybe he's given you a place to stay and maybe he's taken care of you, but for how long? How long can someone like him stand someone like you? You're dirty, remember? Absolutely filthy." He snorted. "Who would want a pest like you around?"
"Z-Zoro's isn't like that," Sanji said, his fists clenching. He was starting to feel it again. The insecurity that grabbed at his stomach, made it churn and his head hurt. "He isn't like that!"
"Oh, Zoro is it?" Patty teased. "You're pretty close to your Sugar Daddy, tell me, is he your pimp?"
Sanji wanted to hit him, right in the head, he saw red. No one should treat Zoro like that! Of course the swordsman had his faults, but such accusations were totally unfounded! Zoro was his friend, no one stood by and watched as their friend was dissed. It didn't matter that Zoro wasn't actually there, it didn't matter that maybe Sanji wasn't thinking straight. All that mattered was that the bastard was saying lies about Zoro.
"Shut up!" Sanji screamed and if Patty's fall to the floor hadn't brought everyone's attention towards them, then Sanji's shout sure did it. Moodie was looking at him from her seat with a shocked expression, in amazement.
"Don't tell me you're in love with the man, are you?" Patty let out another sinister laugh that rang through Sanji's ears. "Look at that, Sanji's a little faggot, isn't he?"
"I'm not!" Sanji said, stepping back. "I … Fuck you," he screamed at Patty. "What the fuck do you know?"
"I know that your Roronoa's little pet," said Patty. "Of course he'll pamper you, but do you really think he's there for you? He abducted you, remember? Of course, we were glad you were gone, but do you really trust a kidnapper? Stockholm syndrome?" He laughed. "Tell me Sanji, how long do you think it'll take before he gets tired of you?"
"T-tired of me?" Sanji repeated.
"Your his little charity case," Patty said. "Isn't it obvious? Once he's done his hours and given back to the community, you'll be gone. If Roronoa's your friend, where is he now? Why isn't he here, helping a friend in need?"
"Shut up!" Sanji screamed. "Zoro isn't … it isn't like that! He's not like that!"
"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself, faggot," Patty snarled. "You know that, don't you?" he barked. "Admit it. No one wants you. No one needs you, so why don't get your slutty little ass back in the kitchen and put on a apron and be a good whore?"
Sanji was close to tears. He knew, somewhere in his mind that what Patty was saying was utter bullshit. It couldn't be true because he knew Zoro, he knew him! But then another voice asked him if that was really true. After all, Zoro had kidnapped him, was Zoro really who he thought he was?
He hated Patty, he hated Patty for putting those ideas into his head, he hated himself for thinking that maybe, maybe it was true. He hated everything because life was just too confusing and he didn't feel like he could trust anyone.
He wanted to crawl up and die. He wanted to so badly, so, so badly. But he didn't. Instead, he turned around and ran.
Entering Zoro's apartment, Sanji raced to the kitchen drawers. Pulling out a small carving knife, he cut. Sharp, painful and bliss and he cried.
He cried for the blood, for the pain, for the feeling of being alone, for being hopeless. He cried because he needed to do this. He cried because the self-inflicted pain was his only release, he cried because he wasn't stronger. He cried because Zeff probably thought he was stronger. He cried because he was weak, because he was scarred. Because he was charity.
He cut again, for the pain and the unshed tears he had held back. He cut for the nightmares to go away, for the horrible past to disappear. He cut for the loss, for the hunger he had felt, for the care he thought Zoro had given him. He cut for his selfishness, for thinking he was the only one in pain. He cut for Moodie and her horrible situation with Fullbody, he cut for his weakness.
And he cried even more.
He cried for Moodie and how he told her to have hope even though he himself was an empty shell. He cried for Zoro and his friends and all of the people who surrounded him. He cried for Zoro's lost friend, he cried for all the memories that now brought him pain. He cried for his parents, whom he had never mourned for, he cried for Zeff and what had happened, for how Zeff thought he was giving him a new family, a better one. He cried for the family he thought he had in Zoro and his friends. He cried for the betrayal and the deceit, the overwhelming feelings he couldn't keep in, for everything and anything.
And when he was finally done, he knew he couldn't face Zoro.
Because as much as it hurt, as much as it drove him absolutely insane, he couldn't stop thinking of Zoro and his smile, the way Zoro fought with everything he had, the way Zoro was bold and loud and a little obnoxious but still calming at the same time. The way Zoro made him feel … God, he sounded so screwed up. But he had done the very thing he had been trying to convince himself he wouldn't do, tried to convince himself he was strong enough without it. But of course, he fell back into the habit and this was the result. He couldn't face Zoro, knowing what he had done and his reaction to what he learnt about the charity. That Sanji even thought it was more …
He stared at the hardwood floors. God, there was blood. There was so much blood, it seemed as though it was all Sanji could see. He looked at the clock and decided that he'd have to risk Zoro coming in and seeing him cleaning.
Wiping the floors made him think of the story of Cinderella, a story he hadn't thought of in forever. It was a story read to the girls in that place, that wretched, nightmarish hell. What was it about again?
There was a girl who cleaned the house of her step-mother and her two step-sisters because her father had died and so had her original mother. They called her Cinderella because of the cinders she cleaned in the fireplace. There was a prince too, and someone who delivered a message. The messenger gave Cinderella a letter that spoke of a ball the prince was holding to find his "true love". Cinderella got a dress all prepared and there were singing mice, maybe? He wasn't absolutely sure. And then the sisters had ruined the dress and Cinderella had cried until her fairy godmother turned up. The godmother gave her a dress and glass slippers and a carriage made out of a pumpkin and horses. She danced with the prince till midnight, when the spell wore off and she ran back, leaving her shoe behind. Now that was where the story got a bit fuzzy. Because Sanji had read the book, but the story the others said was different. The story they said involved the prince looking for the owner of the shoe, but it would only ever fit Cinderella, so she was called down from the attic because she was allowed to try on a shoe, even if the step-sisters were against it and it fit and they got married. Now it was almost the same as the story Sanji had read in the night under the covers after sneaking in and wondering why they never read the boys any stories and he found that the story actually spoke about bleeding feet and people cutting off limbs to fit into that glass slipper. It was probably all bloody by the time it got to Cinderella and the beauty of it was probably gone, but it was still the perfect fit.
Bloody, disgusting but still perfect for the other.
Sanji tried not to relate the story to himself and Zoro. God he was so messed up, he didn't even know what he was thinking, but he was dirty and soiled and absolutely rotten and yet when he was with Zoro … it felt as though those things didn't matter. He was like a distraction from the real world, something else he could grip onto when reality seemed too much. The perfect fit. Bruised, bloodied and ugly, but a perfect fit nonetheless. Of course, he'd never admit to Zoro that in this screwed up analogy he played a blonde princess.
When the floor was clean, Sanji stood back up and checked himself in the mirror.
He felt woozy and didn't enjoy looking at his reflection, but after pressing on the wounds, the bleeding stopped. His image seemed to waver in the mirror. He stared at it, stared at his pale face, his pale body. He looked sickly right now. His hair reminded him of hay, his eyes looked dead. He had to look away, couldn't stand to see himself like this and instead put on his blazer, covering up his arms once more.
God, he couldn't look at Zoro. There was no way he could make himself do it.
He was staring out the large window when he heard the door open. He leaned against it, trying not to cry. He had already cried, he was as dried up as the Sahara desert. He couldn't possibly shed another tear, and yet he still felt them slip out, his body shaking at the bitter taste of the tears as they rolled past his lips. Licking his lips, he wished he could stop them but he knew better.
"I'm back."
Where have you been? It's so late! I was … I was worried.
But Sanji didn't dare say these words. After all, if he was a charity case, why should he worry about Zoro? He didn't mention the time and instead focused on not shaking too much.
"Got the cigarettes," he said and Sanji shut his eyes, the tears still falling.
Thank God he wasn't facing him, he could feel each word Zoro spoke hitting him like a knife. The words sounded so caring, so … affectionate, almost. But Sanji couldn't forget. It's easy to pretend. It wasn't hard to fake a worried expression. It wasn't hard to pretend that you cared. It wasn't hard to fake a sympathetic glance. It wasn't fucking hard to pretend like someone actually mattered.
There was silence and Sanji knew Zoro was expecting an answer.
He opened his mouth so many times, hoping when he spoke he wouldn't give any indication he was crying. Crying over something this dumb, God he was pathetic. He took a deep breath, making sure his voice didn't shake. "Leave them there," he said finally, but he was certain he was quivering. If Zoro noticed, he gave no indication.
Sanji didn't turn around until he heard Zoro's bedroom door close. He took the cigarettes from the couch. King Ground. Why would Zoro remember such a pointless thing about him?
Sanji lit the cigarette, wishing his problems, just like the smoke, would all fly away and vaporize into nothing.
There were swords flying, hitting flesh, blood beginning to spatter. Patty and Carne were on their knees, unable to stand anymore.
"We give!" screamed Carne. "We give! You've won!"
There was another jab, the sword striking fiercely at Patty's hand, hitting his ring knuckle before pulling back. Crimson stained the floor one more. "And you?" demanded the voice. He knew that voice.
"He's yours," said Patty. "Just … just don't hurt us anymore!"
There was a satisfied grunt and then the swords were sheathed.
Three. There were three swords.
"Zoro?" Sanji said, taking a step closer.
Zoro turned to him. He looked different. He wore a bandana on his head, his eyes were a fierce colour. He took the bandana off and tied it around his tricep. He ignored Sanji's call and instead turned around.
"Hey, Zoro! Wait!"
The swordsman turned to him, his eyes cold. "Why should I?"
"Because," Sanji said, unsure of how to answer, "I'm your friend? Aren't I? We're friends, right? We're nakama."
"I'd never be nakama with someone like you," Zoro spat. "I pity you, really, shit cook."
Sanji tried not to flinch at his choice of words. "W-what?"
"I've paid my dues," Zoro told him. "Get out of my sight now, Charity Case." And with that, he walked away, never looking back once.
Sanji woke up trembling. He knew Zoro wasn't like that. He liked to think that he wasn't, but he knew that people could do complete one-eighties on him. He brought his knees up to his chest and tried to stop the whimpering. He couldn't sleep, not without waking up from another nightmare. One a few occasions, he thought he heard something from Zoro's room, but he didn't move from his bed.
It was the first night Sanji didn't come to Zoro to save him from a nightmare.
Instead, the blond let the darkness swallow him, suffocate him. Suffering at the hands of the bastard cooks and the cold, merciless Zoro in his mind was better than thinking the real one cared.
It was dangerous to trust.
To trust that someone cared, to believe in them with everything you have. It was dangerous but he wanted it still, he wanted to believe it because when he was around Zoro, he felt it. He felt what he imagined it would feel like when someone cared.
Sanji was so close to not caring about whether or not it hurt. He just wanted to feel wanted. No, he just wanted to be wanted by Zoro.
And that would never happen.
Author's Note #2: Now for the thank-yous!
AirieDLokie: I find that when I hear someone talk, I know instantly if they're from Quebec or from France if they speak in French because there's just the accent that carries. I met someone who was learning French and she asked me how to say "my favourite colour is blue" and I told her and then she was like, "Isn't it favori?" and the word I chose was "préféré". And we don't call socks the same thing and a bunch of other things. I don't know, I just think Quebec should have its own dictionary for words since it thinks it's so special at their languages.
nero922: Yeah, I did cause I was just like, the title's too long, what else do I call it? And this new title is in reference to Sanji because I always like the term "beautiful disaster" cause I think of it as an oxymoron and I have to say it IS the best way to describe him to me.
JustCallMeLucie: I don't really try to do it, really, it just happens. I was writing the story and after a while I decided that yeah, Luffy had to give Zoro advice, but he can't do it like a normal person, right? So he has to interrupt him and start talking about something that makes no sense to Zoro and then explain himself later. And then I was like, "Oh God, he's getting to serious!" and decided that yeah, Luffy's that character who gets it, but at the same time, just doesn't get it. He has his moments. I really like making others feel something through my writing. I find the easiest thing to do is to make someone laugh so when I can move them to tears or to feel regret or something like strong compassion, I really feel accomplished that I got feeling across to them without saying a word aloud.
Raigon: Thanks! I was really nervous about writing this story since I don't usually write stories like this, but I've always wanted to. I'm glad you like it!
Muffin: Welcome aboard! Since most people don't approve of my writing (ahem, my family, ahem), I'm really happy when people tell me they like my stuff. Makes me feel like I'm not wasting my time, you know?
Reina: Okay, so I'll say this: I'm not offended, but it's more like I'm irritated and not at you. It was like I was reading your points and was trying to come up with answers to give you and when I realized I could give you none I was like, "Damn, does that make me a horrible author to have so many plot holes?" I can answer that question about Sanji and the cooks though, about him not fighting them. In this story, Sanji's self-confidence is very low so he probably didn't feel like he could handle them. He also thinks that this is the restaurant he and Zeff made and he doesn't want to leave because Zeff will be back and it would be like he abandoned him if he left, which is why he didn't run away. There's more to it but that's all I'm going to tell you. Sanji's hit to Zoro was one that was made out of anger that first time he kicked him in the head. Sanji didn't know he could do that. His fight with Luffy was a) Luffy going easy on him at least a little and b) Sanji was experimenting what he could do. You'd be surprised what you're capable of with adrenalin in your system. I know that doesn't really explain everything, but I'm trying to come up with an answer.
lilcutieprincess (x2): I don't know, I just needed Zoro drunk really and I always figured he'd be the ticklish type too. It's fine about not reviewing yet, but I'm happy you reviewed in the end!
Sabinah: Sorry that this chapter is so depressing! But anyway, I always liked writing about confused characters, they're just fun, getting into their minds and all. Anyway, random question for you, you know how "kawai" means "cute", or if you don't, it does mean cute in Japanese, but the word for scary in Japanese is "kowai", which is pretty damn confusing to me. I'm just saying this cause you wrote "Kyaaa" which I realize is nothing like these words, but I just had to ask.
Okay now what Sanji said? it's so weird that Sanji spoke French! But what Sanji said was: "You irritate me."
Now people seem to think Luffy's good at giving love advice, but now I shall ask you two questions instead of one. You can answer them both if you want to.
In this chapter, Sanji quotes Shakespeare. Keep in mind this is a long question. Now here's the question, what Shakespeare play is it from, who said it, in what scene and act, give it context, then tell me what you think it means.
BONUS QUESTION: Zoro and Sanji both say they each have fucked up genes. Who do you think has more screwed up genes? Zoro (green hair) or Sanji (fucked up eyebrow)?
I have one request: I'd really like to reach a hundred reviews before I update my next chapter! I won't wait until there are, but it'd be really cool if there was!
1st Edit: August 6th 2015
