Thank you very much for reading this! I hope you enjoyed this story. Here's the last chapter :)

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That statement went with Sanji to bed that night. What did it mean to survive? What was living? What was the difference between them? More importantly, was he surviving or living? Was it important? What dreams did he have? Who was he?

Dreams? It sounded like something to say to a primary school kid. What did Sanji want to do? What did he love? Sanji remembered the first time he went out of town, up the road with his old man, and they went to the markets together. It was simple, but the market was so big. People were yelling, glossy fruits and big fish were slung up for customers. It was a nice day, with blue skies and a strong sun.

Sanji wanted to explore. To find the different palettes of life. The different colours, the sounds, smells and sights.

He... wanted to sail. He wanted to be surrounded by the unrelenting sun, the misty air and spend his days hauling ropes and having the wind whistle in his ears and ruffle his hair. Sanji fell in love with the ocean when his old man took him out, just the two of them, on his old boat, spending a week visiting all the places his old man loved. Each place had different colours, flavours but the all surrounded by the same smell: salt. He grew to respect the ocean, its vastness, anger and harshness. Travelling on land was fun, but rumbling along a dusty road never held the same grace as a ship cutting through choppy waves. He sighed.

Sanji remembered the emotions of the sea, the twinkling of the sunlight fairies as they danced on the waves, and the opposite, the roaring grey lion that toyed and clawed the ship, batting it to and fro.

"All Blue," he whispered in the dark, digging up the name he'd given to the water. All the blueness of the world. There were no silly names for an ocean. No one owned it. The ocean was the same- a continuous mass of swirling water. You would be connected with your loved ones on the other side of the world and all the ones buried at sea. It was how sailors took comfort in the face of loneliness on long journeys. Sanji's old man taught him that. Every time they went out on their adventures, he'd tell a little more about the sailors, how they lived, their life on the ocean and the stories they'd tell. Each time Sanji would listen with excitement and beg for more. The stories would get longer and soon they were up talking for most of the night, just laughing and chattering. Just the two of them. It was one of the happiest memories of his life.

And Sanji that thrown that all away.

He threw it away when he thought it'd be easier for survival. He threw it away when he saw his old man being ripped apart by monsters. He threw away his dreams and emotions, thinking it'd be beneficial in a world like this.

It was necessary, was what he told himself, every time he'd decline a group's offer to join them, every time when he woke and before he went to get a few snatches of sleep. Every time he found it easier and easier to not smile, not to bother with company, to give himself fake names and reply with succinct cold answers. It was a mantra he'd tell himself every day.

He was killing himself long before any zombie would. His heart ached. He balled his fists and squeezed his eyes shut.

All Blue.

All Bue.

All Blue.

He'd never forget it again.

It'd be his dream, dug up from old memories. It'd be his new mantra, his longing to set sail in the vast blue and be free.

Sanji fell into a deep sleep, eager to tell Luffy of what he found in the morning.

But little did he know, they had all heard him say "All Blue."