Author's Note: So I told you I'd be gone, I guess I should say that when I take breaks from fandoms, I tend to write one-shots for them anyway at random intervals. So yeah and this story was pre-written. It's really cheesy, but I felt like it had to happen. You all should know it, but I just felt it was an important moment for Sanji. I don't own One Piece. Also the desktop site is a bit weird, Sanji's thoughts are in italics, the voice in bold. It might not show depending on your platform.


Beautiful Moments
by: Setkia


Strong

Moment Summary

Takes place between chapter 29 and 30, originally an attempt at writing Sanji's birthday gone-wrong/right. Sanji dealing with his inner-demons.

Come on Sanji. You know you want to.

He lowered the flame, his hand shaking so badly, towards his skin, towards his wrist.

Play with fire.


It was back.

That annoying, evil voice in the back of his mind was back again.

Good morning Sanji, it said. Did you think I was gone?

Sanji would never admit he had hoped it had disappeared.

I'll always be here, it told him. As long as you have doubts, I'm indestructible.

I don't have doubts, Sanji told himself, but he knew he was lying.

Have you looked at yourself recently? You have plenty of reason to have doubts. Plenty. Shall I list them all for you?

Please, don't. It didn't matter what Sanji wanted though, because he knew that his mind would torture him anyway

Have you looked at yourself recently? You're skinny, you're pale. Your arms are disgusting, have you seen the marks on them? Your voice sounds weird, your legs are too long. Your hair is a mess, your eyes are flat. When was the last time you showered? Last night? You can scrub all you want, that horrendous scent doesn't just wash away in the drain, nimrod. It sticks to you, you radiate it. Do you remember that stupid game you suggested you play? What was it, the Nervous Game? Touch each other until someone admits to being nervous? He was free to touch your chest you know. You know why he didn't? Because it repulses him. Have you seen your hands? They're gross, thin, but they have calluses, do you have any idea how ugly that looks? How ugly you look?

Sanji shook his head and quickly put on a shirt, though he told himself it was because winter was slowly ending and it was still cold out and didn't have anything to do with the annoying, insistent voice in his head. He put his pack of cigarettes on the desk and paused.

Curly Brow, don't expect me to be all sentimental and shit like I was last night all the time. But just in case you're a fucking moron or get amnesia or something, I've made you a list so you don't forget.

Sanji sat down at the table and began to read, whispering each thing aloud in an almost inaudible voice.

"Your voice."

Did you know you sound scratchy? You know what chain-smokers sound like? They sound like they're high all the time, they sound rough and hoarse. They sound absolutely gross. You sound like a junkie, you know? You sound like a stoner.

Sanji tried to ignore the voice. "The way you hold your cigarette."

You know that what happens to smokers? They get lung cancer and die. You're a dead man walking. He pities you, can probably see you for the corpse you are.

"Your legs."

You know that your arms are lanky and awkward, but you have strong legs. You look so disproportionate. If you're going to be skinny like a tooth pick, make all of you skinny. Your legs are bulky and disgusting.

"Your passion for cooking."

You have to have a passion for it, what else can you put your passion towards? You're not good at anything else, cooking's all you can do. And of course he likes your passion for cooking, who wouldn't? Butter you up so you'll make even better dishes.

"The way you say pardon."

Don't do that, it's weird, you sound like a stiff robot when you do.

"Your hair."

It's all greasy and gross, the way it falls into your eye. Remember how badly you had acne in your teenage years? You still haven't left that awkward phase.

"Your eyebrows."

Because of those fucked up things, your face is asymmetrical. Do you have any idea who else is like that? No, because no one else is born with that fucked up anomaly. Maybe plastic surgery can fix you, if you're lucky. They say plastic surgeons can perform miracles. Who are we kidding, you're beyond hope!

Sanji's fist curled on the desk, his eyes stinging. He shut them tightly.

"Your clothes," he recited from memory.

Your clothes are weird. The shirt you're wearing right now is too big on you, aren't girls supposed to wear their boyfriend's clothes? You aren't even close to cute enough to pull off kare-shirt, never mind erotic. You can forget about that right now, don't bother yourself with it.

Sanji stopped, his hand having fisted some of the sleeve of his shirt. It was too big on him, but … It was comfortable, wasn't it? And Zoro … did Zoro really care about something like that?

"Y-your perseverance."

Yes, you really did persevere, didn't you, Sanji? Wanted to run away and couldn't do it so instead, you let someone else help you do it.

Sanji tried to blink back tears, but it wasn't working. Not at all. "Y-your spirit," he choked out.

Spirit? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I'm sure he was just grasping at straws because he didn't want to waste paper and couldn't think of anything else.

"Y-your …" Sanji bit his bottom lip, feeling himself tremble. Fuck, he hated this. He was tired of this but he couldn't stop shaking. "Your s-s-strength," he forced the word out, coughing into his sleeve, wiping his tears away at the same time.

Strong? You?

"Sanji?"

Don't kid yourself, shrimp!

Sanji tried to stand, but he felt the strength leave him. He nearly fell to the floor. He grabbed onto the desk to stop himself from falling. His lighter sparked, burning his thumb. Instantly, Sanji recoiled.

You're making me laugh, really.

"Yeah, Zoro?"

If by strength, you mean the ability to cry without a care in the world then sure, you're strong.

"You okay? It's almost nine and you haven't left your room."

My room. It's my room now …

Your room? There was that laughter again, echoing off the walls of his mind. So he's so disgusted, he can't stand to sleep in the same bed with you?

Shut up.

You're dating, aren't you? You're "boyfriends", right?

I said, shut up!

I bet you're just his little whore, aren't you? You threw yourself at him on Valentine's Day, I bet you that knocked some sense into him. Realized how frail and fragile you are, how worthless your body is.

Be quiet!

"Sanji?" Zoro sounded worried.

Bet he doesn't want your used, dirty body anymore, does he?

Your dirty mouth, your lips, your eyes, your scars, your hips, the way you lick the edge of the page of the book you're reading, the way you fight with everything you have, your courage—

You want to be used by him, don't you? You an your filthy mouth. You loved it when he talked dirty to you, didn't you? Got you all hot and bothered, didn't it, you slut?

"I'm fine," Sanji said, shutting his eyes tightly.

Your smirk, your smile, the way you're immune to idiots, your anime obsession, your sensitivity—

Sensitivity? I bet you you're just so responsive, aren't you?

"You sure?"

Your skin, your humbleness, your pride, your flexibility—

Perfect for bending over for your master, isn't it? Being flexible can really help, can't it?

The way you call me Marimo, when you hum, your innocence—

Innocence?

"Yeah!"

That's hilarious. He thinks you're innocent! Innocent, you! Doesn't he know you're tainted beyond belief? You're toxic, poison. You're going to kill him, you know. He's going to kill himself over you. You're a mistake, you'd better back out before he realizes it too. Save yourself the pain.

Sanji's knees gave out and he hit the floor. His thumb still burned, it still hurt him. Raising a hand toward the lighter on the desk, he felt like he was doing something wrong. He pulled his hand back.

Do it.

Sanji's hand inched closer.

You're already so scarred, what's a few more? Not like anyone's ever going to see them. Not like anyone's going to want to see them.

Sanji shook his head. He said he wouldn't and he meant it.

You said you wouldn't cut. Burning, burning's different.

It was, wasn't it? It wasn't really breaking a resolution and besides, resolutions were stupid things anyway. What was a to-do list? Orders that you were forcing yourself to do? What if he just … didn't follow them? Rules were meant to be broken, right?

Do it.

Sanji's hand wrapped around the lighter. He pulled it closer to himself and flipped the top open. He lit the flame, staring at it, transfixed, watching as it danced to a silent music, graceful, beautiful and dangerous.

Come on Sanji. You know you want to.

He lowered the flame, his hand shaking so badly, towards his skin, towards his wrist.

Play with fire.

It skimmed across the surface and instantly, he wanted to recoil.

Don't worry, it doesn't hurt. That horrible, evil voice in his mind sounded so much softer now, so much nicer. It's only a prick, nothing serious. You'll be fine. And Sanji believed it, regardless of whether or not it was a voice that was in the dark depths of his mind, he believed it.

The skin burned but he found that the voice was right. It didn't hurt. He felt numb instead, there was no pain. There was the smallest sensation of a sting, nothing more. In fact, he liked it. He took a shaky breath, his eyes starting to water from the heat. He pressed it closer to the back of his hand. Just a small burn, that wouldn't hurt, right? He could stop, he could stop any time he wanted to.

It's a good burn, isn't it?

Sanji nodded his head slowly. "Yeah." It was as his skin began to turn a bit black that he dropped the lighter by accident. It hit the floor softly.

It's okay, pick it back up. Anything that's stopped, it can start again.

Sanji did and that's when he saw it.

Merry X-Mas, from Marimo

Tears began to well up in his eyes, for a reason other than the burn. He tried to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand, but it stung, the saltiness of it. Bittersweet, Sanji thought, tasting them on his tongue. He shoved the lighter into his blazer pocket and picked himself up off the floor. It had never been that bad before, had never come so close to …

He remembered that day he had gone with Zoro to get his phone. He had mentioned how a cook's hands were their most prized treasure and Zoro brought up how he needed his legs for self-defence, that they were really important too. What he remembered most was the way Zoro had turned to him with an innocent look on his face, a silly grin on his lips.

"That means everything about you Sanji needs to be treasured, doesn't it?"

Picking himself up from the floor, he knew he was a mess. It was impossible to hide that.

"Sanji?"

Zoro's voice was closer. Sanji expected to hear that annoying voice in the back of his head again, the one that taunted him, the one that haunted him. There was silence. He looked up to see Zoro staring at him in confusion. "Are you okay?" asked the swordsman with a frown.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sanji told him and meaning it this time. "It's gone," he said softly.

Zoro looked at him strangely. "Huh?"

Sanji grinned. "It's finally gone," he said in an even softer voice.

If there was anything Sanji regretted about that voice being gone, it was that he couldn't tell him what he had just discovered.

You're wrong. I am strong and I know I'm strong because Zoro makes me strong.

"What are you smiling about?"

Sanji gave him a smile. "Nothing," he said. "I'll make breakfast, okay?"

Thank you, Zoro. Thank you for being my strength.


Author's Note #2: The thank-yous!

HollyWoodFix: Hello! I haven't seen your name in a while. I've always been a sucker for one-shot collections that range in what they give me because sometimes I really like an author and want to read noncommittal stories with my favourite pairing, so I hope you enjoy this as much I enjoy reading them.

Shizuka Tayiyou: I'm an uncultured piece of swine who doesn't know anything that's not anime related ... Who are they?

Okay now for the next part: yes I'm the worst kind of author who says I won't write for a while only to post again. Yup. Random blurbs at random times, just to make sure you don't forget me. I like to work on one-shots on the side of major stories so I can keep new ideas flowing. If you like Soul Eater, check out my new random barrage of stories there. I'm trying out a new genre this time, it's horror. I've literally never written horror before, it's for It's All in Your Head, which you can check out if you want. I really like to know what people think when I try out new fandoms. Beautiful Disaster was my first One Piece story and you all welcomed me really nicely (I'm talking like, maybe 3 were hate reviews out of 366! I never imagined it would go so well!), so I'm nervous about my delve into Soul Eater, especially since I've been writing despite exams and studying and the last time I watched Soul Eater was like, 2 years ago and I should really re-watch it and actually get around to reading it too ... Heh, fan fiction spoils everything for you, huh? I had to wait till Thriller Bark to truly understand why ZoSan fans went crazy over it. I get it now and I have a LONG one-shot planned for that one. Speaking of long things, as though this wasn't long enough, Heart & Soul is a long Soul Eater story I wrote that I wouldn't mind you checking out if you have the time, it's pretty long, but I hope it's worth the read. If you like it, leave a review and tell me if I ended up bringing you to read it.