Title: One to a Thousand
Rating: M for language, adult themes and sexual content
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece
Spoiler Warning: Takes place after the time skip. There are numerous spoilers including events that occurred during the Thriller Bark arc and Sanji's whereabouts during the two years that the crew was separated.
A/N: Next chapter will be the final chapter!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Finding Zoro didn't take nearly as long as the cook had expected.
Sanji took an irritated drag from his cigarette, staring at the unconscious man as a curled brow twitched in quiet irritation. "Stupid marimo," he muttered under his breath disapprovingly.
Quite frankly, Sanji was really sick of seeing the swordsman's blood all over the ground. Or rocks, or sand, or dripping into the water below. The scenery changed, but the scene sure as hell didn't. It had happened so many times; how could the idiot marimo still persist in being so damned careless?
He had found him, sprawled out and unconscious—or maybe dead asleep, it wouldn't be the first time—hidden away in a cave-like mouth in the craggy rocks. To be honest, if it hadn't been for the dripping blood, though, he may not have noticed him.
It was actually kind of enraging, how much blood the swordsman seemed to have in his body. The stupid things the marimo had managed to survive.
"You're the one who should keep needing shitty blood transfusions," he spat, as he flicked his cigarette to the ground.
Gloomily, he approached him, hands already reaching into his pockets for the medical supplies Chopper had given to him. In hindsight, he should have probably gotten more.
Unsurprisingly, after making his escape, Zoro had gone in the opposite direction of where the Sunny had been docked. If he had gone in the right direction, he would have easily reached the crew, whether it was Sanji and Chopper, or everyone who was aboard the ship itself.
Sanji sat down next to the unconscious swordsman, near his shoulder, on a spot where the rock had not been covered in his blood. Not that it mattered, he supposed; his clothes were already fairly saturated in his own blood.
He carefully inspected Zoro's body, feeling faintly uneasy at peeling off the other man's clothes—not that it was the first time he had, but this was a completely different context than it had been all those other times.
The worst injuries were a gash in his right thigh and the front of his chest, just far enough to the side that his shirt had covered it. He suspected the latter had been the wound he had acquired while Sanji was still with him; the crimson fabric of his clothes would have easily concealed the blood. Besides, the injury in his leg was much easier to spot. He had also gotten another bad cut by his temple; coagulating blood completely engulfed his good eye.
As adeptly as he could muster—"I'm a cook, not a shitty doctor," he muttered bitterly as he worked—he cleaned the wounds and bandaged the larger gashes to slow the bleeding. Once that was done, he tried to take a soft cloth to wipe the blood off of his eye. The cook even momentarily halted his chain smoking to ensure no stray ashes would get in the way; not that the shitty marimo would appreciate such a gesture, he was certain.
The entire time, he continued muttering insults and curses at him, but Zoro didn't stir. He was breathing, shallowly and erratically, but that was about the only sign he was alright.
Finally done, he leaned back and stared out at the shimmering night sky above him. The clouds had cleared, and now it seemed much brighter around him. He pulled out a new cigarette and puffed on it slowly, absent-mindedly letting his free hand rest on Zoro's slightly feverish head.
He tried his best to maintain a calm exterior, but his chest could not help but flutter with the slightest tinge of worry. Sanji wanted to rush to get him back, but he knew he had to gather his energy. His tired body had taken a hell of a beating.
Once his cigarette had been reduced to nothing but the butt and ashes scattered across the ground, Sanji rose to his feet, readying himself. Then he hefted the unconscious swordsman into the air and slung him over his shoulders.
"Can't believe I have to carry this shitty marimo back to the ship," he muttered, no real irritation apparent in his voice.
In fact, the closeness was somewhat comforting; as he pressed Zoro's body tightly against him, he could feel his warmth, feel he was okay.
And even more, after he had been walking awhile, he could feel the other man's muscles twitch and contort as he started to regain consciousness.
"You awake, shitty swordsman?" Sanji asked, stopping a moment.
"The hell are you carrying me for, ero-cook?" Zoro responded, groggy and irritated.
Sanji's brow twitched. "Because first you decided to head in the wrong direction to get back to the ship, and then you passed out, marimo."
Zoro grunted in reply. "Are you going to put me down?"
"Can you stand?"
"Of course I can stand," Zoro said, the agitation in his voice growing.
He set him down, and Zoro took a few tentative steps forward. He was definitely affected by the deep laceration in his thigh, but he seemed okay staying upright.
Wordlessly, Sanji stepped next to him—his right side, specifically, so that the swordsman wouldn't have to fully turn his head just to see him. Then the cook wrapped his arm around him, giving him a meager amount of support.
"Oi, I don't need your help—"
"Maybe I'm doing it because I want to," Sanji replied moodily, his cheeks feeling slightly warm.
Zoro raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, the gesture nearly lost behind the large bandage that was affixed to the cut on his forehead. "Are you telling me you wanna put your arm around me?"
"You're not the only one who gets to say corny things," Sanji retorted.
Although he may have imagined it, he thought for a moment, Zoro's cheeks turned a little bit pinker. Clearly, the swordsman must have been recalling the words he said to Sanji right before they parted. "Ah, I suppose, that stuff I said..." Zoro trailed off, averting his gaze to the ground. "Well, I take it all back, then."
"Oi, I didn't say to do that," Sanji protested quickly, glancing at him in alarm.
When he looked at the other man's face, a faint swell of elation swept over him. It was one of those rare moments where Zoro was smiling; a large, genuine smile, displaying white teeth, the joy behind it taking up his entire face. The swordsman let out a loud laugh—again, a rare splendor—and raised his arm to put it above Sanji's shoulders.
"Alright, if it's that upsetting for you, I won't take it back then."
"Tch, why do you make it seem so—" Sanji started, but he was never able to finish his sentence. The swordsman's free hand had reached around to grab Sanji's jaw, fingers brushing the edges of his goatee as he forced the blonde man's face toward his and kissed him.
Sanji became faintly aware that he must have gotten hit in his cheek at some point, because it throbbed slightly as Zoro pressed his mouth against his own, but he ignored it, finding the hungry mouth far more urgent.
Shit. Why did this man have to cause his emotions to spin out of control so wildly, to the point that he had felt in flux until they had been reunited again?
He didn't wish the feelings away anymore, but he still found it annoying. And downright incomprehensible.
Even now, aching and exhausted, the want almost trumped all of his fatigue as their lips connected, their arms still interlocked.
With a tinge of regret, their lips finally separated. Sanji opened his eyes and shook his head at Zoro, his face contorting into a scowl. "There'll be plenty of time for that back on the Sunny," he said, pushing him forward slightly with the arm still wrapped around the swordsman's side.
"That so?" Zoro smirked.
"Tch, shut your mouth and walk, marimo," Sanji replied with a glare.
Slow and steadily, they made their way back, careful to make a wide arc around the fortress, cautiously making their way through the jagged rocks and uneven ground.
When they were only a few minutes away from the ship, they were greeted by Luffy and Chopper.
"Oi, Zoro, Sanji!" Luffy cried out loudly, rushing toward them.
Chopper followed not far behind him, his brow knitted in worry as his searching eyes looked the two men up and down.
"See, I told you they were fine," Luffy grinned.
Chopper looked up at them with concern. "I'm sorry!" he cried out. "I wanted to turn right back around and find you, but I had to patch up everyone else as well..."
"I can see that," Zoro said, glancing at Luffy, whose chest and arms were covered in bandages—but really, that was hardly an unfamiliar sight at this point. It was more rare to see Luffy not covered in bandages after a battle—or the stupid marimo, for that matter. He cast a sidelong glance at Zoro.
But despite his numerous injuries, their captain seemed to be feeling better than ever, as evidenced from the rambunctious way he drilled them on what they had encountered and told them of all of the fun perils he and the rest of the crew had run into.
"I'll use heavy point and carry Zoro the rest of the way," Chopper offered, once Luffy let him get a word in.
"Tch, it's fine, we only have a little ways to go," Sanji replied automatically.
"You shouldn't be carrying anyone with your wound," the reindeer urged.
"I'm alright," Sanji insisted. "Besides, I'm only supporting him a little."
"But I'm in better shape to do it."
"We'll be to the ship in a couple of minutes, it doesn't matter." With a dull pang, Sanji realized he didn't really like the idea of relinquishing the swordsman just yet, as ridiculous as the notion was.
"Then I'll just take him for a couple of—"
"Ah, don't worry, Chopper," Luffy chimed in loudly, cutting the small reindeer off as he suddenly jumped beside him.
"But they're both hurt pretty badly," the young doctor insisted.
Luffy laughed as he patted the reindeer on his shoulder. "Yeah, but Zoro and Sanji just want to be close to each other right now, so you shouldn't break them apart."
It felt like the air pressure suddenly dropped.
Sanji felt it difficult to draw in a breath. He couldn't hear anything except the sound of Luffy's merry laugh. The cook started to speak, but all that came out was a gasp. He saw Chopper's jaw fall open in surprise. Then he turned to glance at Zoro, and saw that the green-haired man's jaw was clenched tightly, with a faint telltale crimson tinge on his cheeks.
"Ehh, Luffy! You can't say—" Chopper started. But then he blushed so furiously, he couldn't finish whatever he was about to say, as though it was just too embarrassing for him to utter.
Luffy scratched his head. "I can't what? I just thought it was kind of obvious, when you look at them."
Zoro's muscles tensed; although the movement was barely distinguishable, Sanji couldn't help but feel the strong muscles flex beneath his arm. He reflexively tightened his grip a bit as well, giving him a slight squeeze.
Yet for some reason, Sanji couldn't quite share in Zoro's alarm. Of all the things that had happened—all of the stupid occurrences that had flustered him beyond control, the dangerous moments that they had been through, the mortifying times that crew members had seen them together or gotten wind of how he was with the swordsman...
The fact that even the seemingly oblivious Luffy had not only figured it out, but had taken the information in, so plainly and without even the faintest shred of displeasure or disapproval, as though it was the most natural thing in the world... It was so astonishing that Sanji simply couldn't help himself.
He threw his head back and laughed mirthfully, plucking the cigarette from his mouth with his free hand so it wouldn't fall to the ground.
Zoro and Chopper stared at him, utterly dumbfounded, jaws slightly agape.
"That's right, Luffy... That's why I'm not letting you guys help," Sanji chuckled, grinning widely.
Luffy laughed loudly, blithely slapping Sanji on the back. "Yeah, I thought so!"
"Oi, you..." Zoro muttered, glancing at Sanji.
The cook's grin widened as he took a long puff on his cigarette. "Hah, what?"
Zoro stared at him incredulously. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly in what might have been a hint of a smile, but he averted his gaze, concentrating on the ground in front of him as the group began to walk forward again.
The night had slowly began to creep into the small hours of the morning. By the time they boarded the ship and Chopper whisked Zoro away into the sick bay, Sanji realized he should probably prepare breakfast. His body felt exhausted, and he had a feeling that once he actually laid down to rest, he would not be waking up in time to feed the undoubtedly starving crew.
As he was nearly done preparing the lavish breakfast, the ache in his side began to increase in sharpness; whatever Chopper had given him to dull the pain was wearing off, no doubt.
He set out the food in a manner so that the crew could easily take what they wanted whenever they were ready.
Just then, he heard someone enter the dining hall. He glanced at the entrance, and caught a glimpse of luxurious red hair.
"Good morning, Nami-swaaaan," he called eagerly. "Please have a seat, I'll bring you your breakfast right away. And what would you like with it? Coffee? Tea? Perhaps something else?"
"Hmm, I'll have tea," Nami smiled, rubbing her eyes tiredly.
He gave her a concerned look. "Surely you haven't had enough sleep yet, Nami-swan. You should go back to bed and leave everything to the rest of us."
She shook her head. "I don't feel like sleeping anymore right now," she replied. "But what about you, Sanji-kun? Didn't you just get back?"
Sanji placed his hands on his cheeks, grinning widely. "Nami-swan's worried about me!" he cried out happily. "I'll get some rest soon, don't worry. I just wanted to get the kitchen in order—and I wanted to make sure Nami-san and Robin-chan had a delicious breakfast waiting for them!"
Usopp and Franky noisily entered the dining hall, engrossed in conversation and not yet turning to greet the rest of them.
"Ah, perfect timing," Nami mentioned, smiling coyly as she glanced in the noisy duo's direction. Then she turned her gaze back to Sanji. "Why don't you let us take care of cleaning up, Sanji-kun? That way, you can rest up."
"Absolutely not, Nami-swan. I refuse to let your delicate hands touch dishwater," Sanji insisted.
Nami smiled brightly. "Don't worry, I promise I won't so much as lay a hand on a dirty dish. I'll merely be directing." She glanced at Usopp and Franky again, smiling devilishly.
Both men abruptly stopped speaking to turn toward Nami, a bead of sweat on their foreheads.
"Hah? I suddenly have this bad feeling..." Franky said nervously.
"I think that's because we just got forced to do something."
Nami smiled at them menacingly before turning her attention back to Sanji.
"See? They'll take care of it. And besides, that way you can take something to eat to Chopper... and Zoro."
The knowing way she pronounced Zoro's name made Sanji pause in hesitation.
More specifically, it made him feel like his heart had leapt into his throat. His incredibly dry throat. With difficulty, he tried to swallow the distressing feeling back down.
He realized he still had not quite faced this awful feeling properly. She knew what had been going on; even if it was only a piece of it she had heard (and how much it pained him, remembering how she had been witness to it), he was sure the clever woman had figured out much more.
She knew—and what's more, Sanji had clearly already made some kind of decision. Even if he had not always had the clearest head when he acted, he had, unarguably, made a choice.
He studied her a moment... The beautiful and incredible Nami-swan. The woman who had captivated him more than any other. Really, if there was one woman he loved more than the rest, Nami would surely be it. No other woman had ever torn him in so many directions before, had ever dazzled him so. This alluring, enchanting woman, who at one point, he surely would have chased to the ends of the earth, if she had only given him the slightest hint.
At one point. Sanji sighed heavily; he couldn't help but realize his mind kept flickering to past tense as he considered it. This probably really did mean he would never have a chance with her again, and that this was a door he had let forcibly close on his future possibilities.
Still, he couldn't help but love her. In fact, it was utterly impossible for him to not be in love with her... He took a long, pensive drag from his cigarette. Suddenly, he realized he had been standing still for an inordinately long time, staring at her, while Nami's large, brown eyes stared up at him questioningly.
"Is there something you want to say, Sanji-kun?" she asking, tilting her head slightly.
"Ah, no, sorry," he said, smiling apologetically. Then, the pitch of his voice became slightly higher, as he trilled, "I was just admiring your beauty, Nami-swaaaan."
"If that's it, then get out of here!" she exclaimed, reaching out and giving his chest a gentle shove. "Don't just stand there, when there's someone waiting for you."
"Yes, Nami-swan," he agreed eagerly, springing into action.
It was a complicated feeling rushing through him as he plated the breakfasts for Chopper and Zoro. He had a general sense of malaise from the twists and turns of the evening, mixed in with his exhaustion, and the fluttery, remorseful pang he was experiencing in his chest as he considered Nami. But it was nothing compared to the profound feeling of relief, and the shameful, eager expectation, of being able to check on Zoro.
As he left the dining hall, he took one last glance toward the table, where Nami was lecturing Franky and Usopp.
Yes, he loved Nami-san more than any other woman, without a doubt. He stared at her for one longing moment before he turned to leave. A feeling of self-loathing washed over him as he considered that there just may be another person he loved even more.
As he exited the dining hall, the allegorical sound of the door slamming shut behind him was enough to make him start in surprise.
Sanji had all but forgotten that Chopper had told him he needed more medical treatment than what he had received on the island, before he left to find Zoro. The second he entered the sick bay, however, the young doctor whisked him into a second bed—one of the infirmary's many foldaway-beds that had apparently been set up just for him—and started to examine him.
Zoro, who was laying in the bed next to him, wordlessly ate his breakfast. However, the cook did notice that he kept casting sidelong glances at the wound Chopper was attending to on his abdomen.
The cook found himself drifting to sleep, even while the doctor worked on him. It really had been an exhausting night.
"I'm going to sleep for a few hours," Chopper suddenly exclaimed.
The dozing man's eyelids abruptly shot open. Tiredly, he pulled himself to a sitting position, realizing that his treatment was over.
Chopper was standing at the door. "You should... uh... just stay here and rest!" he called out. Oddly enough, there was a small bead of sweat dripping down the reindeer's temple.
"I think I'll be fine in the men's quarters—" Sanji started, furrowing his brow as he observed Chopper's inexplicable nervousness.
The doctor's eyes flitted back and forth between the swordsman and the cook. An out-of-place blush crept up his face, as he closed his eyes and nervously shouted, "You two should stay here together and get better!"
Then he bolted out of the door as the cook stared after him, his mouth slightly agape at the young doctor's odd behavior.
"What was that about..." he muttered.
"You really can't figure it out, dumbass cook?" Zoro said, pulling himself upright.
Sanji glanced at him. "The hell do you mean, marimo?"
The swordman shifted his feet out of the bed and onto the floor. "He's leaving us alone."
"Tch, why would he go to the trouble of doing that," Sanji muttered, although he felt a flush of embarassment at the thought. After all, Chopper was the first one to see them together, in this very room...
"Who knows," Zoro replied, his voice suddenly right next to Sanji's ear, "but it works out, because I really wanted to do this." Without giving the cook time to retort or even realize what was happening, he pressed his mouth against Sanji's.
For a moment, Sanji kept his eyes open in surprise. The kiss was unexpected, but what was more, there was a sort of startling gentleness to it that made him want to gasp in shock.
The swordsman's eye opened for a moment, as he deepened the kiss slightly, and Sanji realized he had not been responding properly. Finally closing his eyes, Sanji reached forward and wrapped his hand around the back of Zoro's head, fingers playfully traversing through the strands of his hair, as he gently applied pressure to ensure the swordsman wouldn't pull away too quickly.
But eventually, he had to. Sanji felt a small twinge of regret as their lips parted, marking the end of the affectionately impassioned kiss.
A rough hand suddenly grasped his, tugging him forward. "Come over here."
"Hah?"
"To this bed."
"I'm already in a bed, shitty swordsman."
"Yeah, but that bed—" Zoro started. Then his suddenly closed his mouth, his jaw noticeably clenched.
Sanji stared at him, one eyebrow raised. "What about it?"
The swordsman averted his gaze. "It's too flimsy to hold both of us, so come to this one," he muttered, his cheeks flushing. He gave Sanji another violent tug, yanking him out of the foldaway bed and onto his feet.
The cook sighed heavily, but he was too damn tired to argue about it right now. Besides, he did prefer the idea of sharing the bed with him. Not to mention, Zoro's embarrassed face was kind of endearing—not that he'd tell him that.
They climbed into the narrow bed together, and even though he was hurting and there was not a whole lot of room to move around, he couldn't really think of a more satisfactory place to sleep. It took almost no time at all for his eyelids to start to flutter shut. He was a little bit surprised by how securely the other man's arms gripped him, but it wasn't entirely disagreeable.
In fact, it was actually pretty comfortable.