The Cost of Letting Go

This is depressing with chances of light SanSopp

The hardest part was saying goodbye. The worst part was leaving. Sanji sat on the railing, smoke quietly trailing from between his lips as he tried to pretend he didn't feel anything as Syrup Village slipped away into the hazy distance. He'd always been too good at pretending. Too good at being something half of what he was to impress every one he wanted to be. He smirked to himself as he took another drag. Philosophy had never been his forte either. But then, what did the head chef need with this shit? All he needed was to go back to the Mermaid Deck. He closed his eyes and thought of that beautiful little restaurant, floating in the middle of the All Blue which they had bled and nearly died to save, and had, barely, by the skin of their teeth, but what a rescue. And his little ship, his little dream, he had it all. And yet, you couldn't have it all.

He opened his eyes again. The island was even further now. He scanned the water, half expecting (hoping, damnit) for there to be some sign of a flailing Usopp as he tried to catch up, hearing his voice on the wind. Wait! I changed my mind! I lied! But there was nothing. Just the waves and the wind in the sails. But, ah, he knew it would be like that. Hadn't they had this conversation? It hadn't been words. Not as such. Just a lot of not looking. A lot of not saying. 'I love my dad but…' I'm not like him. I won't be like him. 'Kaya's my girl' sorry. Really. I know how it was but—

Well things were how they were. And, well, the East Blue was just a small drop in the large large ocean, in which, there were plenty of fish…and he should know. Though he could have done without the end. It was always too damn hard in the end. The awkwardness. The change. It hurt even though he'd known from the beginning that it would be this way.

A shadow fell over him and some of the old tension tightened along Sanji's back, because even without haki he knew who it was. There was no one else in this damn ship who would even come close to him without some kind of awed fascination, plus the guy exuded an aura of 'annoying as hell'.

"You have a problem, Captain?" Sanji said, and winced inwardly at his own words. Way more biting than he meant it to be but a man couldn't take it back if he meant it and Zoro, damn him, just stood there like a moss topped rock, one arm hanging outside of his haori which still had the Mugiwara Jolly Roger on the back. Of course it did. One thing that would never change. Zoro had a family to take care of. 500 strong and more if you counted the islands he took care of now. The weight of the whole damn Grand Line was on his shoulders and he looked like he didn't even give a shit. Bastard.

"Do you regret it?" Zoro asked finally, not looking at him, eyes fixed on the vanishing island. Friend. Nakama. And things he didn't want to think about. But he had to think about it because there was a challenge in Zoro's words. A question. Did he regret it? The expected answer was no. That was why they had lived their lives after all. That was why they had followed Luffy to the ends of the world and beyond it. Fought and lost. Fought and suffered. Fought and won. Why they were still fighting in their own ways… Sanji swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. He was too proud to say yes.

He was too honest to say yes.

"Do you?"

A challenge with a challenge.

Because bending to the truth seemed to be bending a bit too far.

"It's what he wants."

Cutting straight to it. Sanji felt strangely eviscerated. In any case, there was nothing more to say. Nothing more to do except…except watch things end, piece by piece.

"Captain!" someone called from the Crow's Nest. Zoro lifted a hand to catch the spyglass that had been tossed down and looked through it with his one good eye. Something changed in his expression and Sanji looked away, holding up a hand for the spyglass which was pressed into his hand. He hesitated for only a breath

And looked.

There was Usopp, Usopp's back as he stood on the cliff, black hair tossed by the wind, right arm thrust into the air, a black x marked sharp against his skin. Whatever happens, this mark will let us know we're nakama.

"Your one brilliant plan, Marimo," Sanji muttered, handing the spyglass back and unbuttoning his sleeve.

"Shut up, Curly Brow," Zoro said. "I've had others."

Sanji snorted and wanted to argue, but this wasn't the time for it. Instead he turned with Zoro, back to the island and the sea, and thrust his fist into the air without hesitation, knowing that Usopp would be looking for it. Waiting for it. Hoping for it.

Zoro stood with him. Even when the island had long passed from view. Even when the air turned cold and rain splattered on the deck and his arm shook slightly with the effort. When the rain splashed his face, too, Zoro said nothing. The wind gusted and in it Sanji thought he heard (wanted to hear) a laugh.

Come on, guys! This isn't the end. Just keep getting stronger and we'll meet up later. I promise.