The damn marimo had fallen asleep within minutes.

Sanji stared at him with disbelief, wondering how it was possible for anyone to fall asleep that quickly. Then his thoughts shifted back to Zeff who he was still mad at. Admittedly, he knew that there had to be a rational reason behind his shitty demands but he was still angry.

Fuck you old man.

Ever since he had been a brat, Zeff had always been looking out for him. Even before he knew who Zeff was, that old man had been looking out for him. Always grabbing him by the back of his collar, keeping him away from trouble, protecting him by his side. The old man gave Sanji a home, food to eat, and a regular life he believed a kid like him deserved. That's why, that's why, Sanji could not leave. No matter what the old man said. He could not abandon the Baratie, the restaurant he had grew up in most of his life. He could not abandon those shitty cooks nor Zeff because as much he hated those bastards, he was still profoundly attached to them. Damn, why am I getting emotional?

The marimo across from him snored, not too loudly. Quietly breathing in and out, slow even rhythms relaxing Sanji.

There was an uncomfortable scorching sensation on the tips of his fingers, getting hotter and hotter... FUCK! IT'S HOT! He reflexively threw the remaining cigarette across from him, barely missing the swordsman's head, then safely exiting the balcony. He blew on his singed fingers, wondering why he has been so careless lately.

Although a chef's hands are their most valued possessions, there he was, spraining his hands then almost burning them off. What the hell was wrong with him? Now, they were throbbing in pain again, having a pulse all of their own. He rested them by his side, no longer having the urge to smoke.

He closed his eyes, listening to the marimo's heavy breathing...

Hah... hah...

Hah...hah…

He was panting heavily, his heart pounding in his ears, his chest threatening to burst open from running relentlessly. He ran down the narrow alleyway, avoiding bags of trash and stray cats along the way.

Although the luminosity of the moon above him helped his vision, it was still not enough. He could not see everything in his way, like the garbage lid that probably flew off due to the large amount of cats around here. He stepped on it, and it shifted to the side, causing him to lose his balance. He fell over. Usually he would have been able to catch himself, but because his thin body was exhausted and had reached its limit, he plopped to the ground. A harsh impact on his knee to avoid grazing his hands.

Shit...

His surroundings began to spin, his vision zoomed in and out, like the lens of a camera that someone was messing with. Hah... hah... He only heard his heavy pants and a nearby cat mewing in his ears. His head was killing him. His pulse was irregularly beating in his head. But he had to get up, or else...

Get the fuck up! He told himself, the stubborn part of him pushing his body past its limit. Get up!

As he pushed himself up, he felt a sticky fluid sliding down his right leg, and a jolt of pain shot up when he regained his balance. He definitely scraped his knee, badly. He staggered as he tried to regain his pace but the pain was too immense. He had to stop and treat the wound before continuing.

Sanji had some basic medical knowledge that he had picked up here and there, thanks to his observing nature. He knew he had to apply pressure to the injury to prevent any further blood loss. The problem at hand was the lack of time. He ripped apart a piece of fabric from the sleeve of his shirt to securely bind his knee. This will do for now.

With the bind, he was able to pick up his earlier pace.

After few alleyways and turns, Sanji heard a commotion nearby. The sound of an engine revving, combined with laughter and chatters of people nearby. He was close. Soon he would be able to hide himself among others and blend. Soon he would be safe...

With each step he took, the sound of life became louder. His heart sped up, out of excitement and not out of fear for the first time in months. He began to see the glow of the city. The dazzling lights that has never been so beautiful. The sounds were just around the corner, and the hope that he had clung onto for all these months finally emerged. A relieved smile cracked on his chapped lips as he reached out, his arms stretched out in front of him.

Just a little more...

Help was just around the corner.

Bam!

Then there was a dull thud to his head, subsequently leading the boy to fall with a plop, landing on his already damaged knee. Then his face met the gravel. The lights blurred and the sound of laughter muffled inside his head.

"What a troublesome kid," said a woman, her high heels blocking his last image of the dazzling lights.

"Hmm... Getting paid for catching a midget is not so bad," a husky voice replied.

"Whatever, call the boss."

His surroundings began to fade away as Sanji blacked out. The tiny ray of hope he had blew out like a fire...

When Sanji opened his eyes, he half expected himself to be in that dreadful room. So he was reluctant in opening them. His palms were clammy and the sound of the dull thud of that blunt object repetitively played inside his head.

Hah... hah...

He opened his eyes and noticed that the marimo was lying next to his feet now, his green hair tickling the tips of Sanji's toes. He was drooling, a streak of saliva from the corner of his mouth to the floor.

Sanji lightly scratched his head, grasping the reality. He was breathing heavily and cold beads of sweat were still rolling down his temples, but within few minutes, he was able to settle back down. His fingers reached for his pack of cigarettes and shakily placed a stick in his mouth. When he brought the cigarette alive with a lighter, the buzzing in his ears gradually hushed and time began to move forward again.

The blond's gaze shifted towards the green haired man. The man appeared to be at peace, given that the usual frowns weren't there. The three golden earrings on his left ear lobe jingled a bit when the man shifted a bit more towards Sanji. When Sanji thought about getting earrings back in high school, he was afraid that people would call him gay and feminine, but Zoro appeared so damn masculine that the earrings only made him bad ass, not any less manly. The blond's eyes observed the marimo's sharp jaw line, his straight nose, and slanted eyebrows. No wonder he looks angry all the time. His eyebrows are naturally this way.

"Cook," the man grumbled.

Sanji jumped back, yelping like a puppy who got his paws stepped on.

The swordsman yawned, stretching his mouth widely. "Huh, I wake up and see you staring me down." He paused, pulling himself off the floor. "If I didn't know better, I'll say you were checking me out," he stare at him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on his lips.

"W-What!" Sanji said a little bit too loudly. "H-hell no. I was just trying to..." To what? What was he doing? Curiously observing the man? Wondering why he had such masculine features? That didn't sound too far from Zoro's assumption.

The green haired man ignored Sanji getting flustered. "Oi, cook!" He called out, causing Sanji to jolt back again. "I'm fucking starving. Can we get something?"

To think about it, the two of them hadn't had their lunch yet, let alone breakfast for Sanji. It was disgraceful, really. A person starving around a chef, even if that person was Zoro. The blond led Zoro to the kitchen, and the two of them were getting pretty weird stares. Their stray glances were getting under Sanji's skin, an uncomfortable feeling that was going straight into his hot tempered brain. He walked over to Carne, who had ceased his bickers with Patty at Sanji's approach. "Oi, Carne, can you make us some food?"

The chef with a five o'clock shadow nodded, appearing a bit taken back by the request. Since, after all, Sanji had never asked for a favor in his whole time in Baratie.

Within five minutes, Carne fried up two dishes of spicy seafood pasta, a dish he knew was Sanji's favorite. It certainly tasted better than what the blond had expected, since Carne had been a terrible chef over a year ago. The only thing that the blond would have changed was the sauce. It was slightly on the salty side.

However, with hunger gnawing at his stomach, he didn't fret over such details. He ate as fast as he could, but with Zoro feeding him and all, he didn't want to appear too undignified. After his plate had been cleaned, Sanji remained hungry. Since he had missed two meals, he guessed it was logical that he eats two servings, but he didn't dare requesting for Zoro's untouched plate.

The marimo picked up his own plate, twirled the pasta around his fork, and instead of eating it himself he placed it in front of Sanji's mouth. "Here," he said, quite demanding for a man who was giving someone else something. "Eat it."

Sanji rolled his eyes. "Moron, don't give it to me, that plate is yours. I'm full anyways," he lied.

Zoro shrugged, "Whatever. Your loss."

It sure was, but as a chef, it was his responsibility to feed those around him. It made him happy seeing Zoro eat, though it probably would feel better if it had been Sanji's cooking instead.

Huh, there's sauce around his mouth. Kind of cute... Like a kid, he meant. Nothing else by that.

After the two empty plates were stacked on top of one another, the two men settled back, leaning against the rails. There was a comfortable silence in the air, except for the blond puffing in and out on a cigarette.

"Hey," Zoro broke the silence.

Sanji glanced to his side, seeing the man's terribly perfect side profile. "Hm?"

"When should I start working?"

Oh, yeah. Sanji rested his arms on his knees, the ashes of the burning stick falling next to his shoe. "Didn't you hear the old man? I'm fired, dude." It still irked him that Zeff had fucking fired him though. Dammit!

"He said if I screw up," Zoro pointed out.

"So... I'm fired," Sanji jibed, laughing afterwards.

The green haired man fully turned his body to look at Sanji. "Damn you," he cursed the blond. "I can do-"

"Do you have experience?" Sanji cut in.

Zoro grumbled, "No."

The blond sighed, "Then, give up already, you buffoon."

"Come on, how hard can it be?" The green haired man confidently stated with a snort.

"How hard can it be?"

Sanji repetitively asked the question out loud, purposefully raising the pitch of his voice to 'mimic Zoro,' though Zoro's voice was obviously lower than the blond's.

"How hard can it be?" The blond cook repeated again, sounding like a broken parrot.

The green haired man punched him in the arm, "Fuck you too, dart-brow."

Sanji grinned, all of his front teeth showing. "Oh my god, I never laughed so hard in my life." He snickered again, pretending to wipe the tears from his eyes.

Earlier at Baratie Zoro had left a huge mess. He broke a plate every half an hour, spilled sauces on customers shirts, tipped a whole bottle of beer on a customer's head 'accidentally', and yelled at Sanji who was laughing at him like he was at this very moment. Also, he almost punched one of the chefs because he overheard a conversation.

"Hey, hey, don't you think something fishy is going on with that green haired fella and Sanji?"

A voice behind Zoro, from one of the chefs, whispered to the chef next to his own station.

"Like what?"

"Isn't it strange how they took two hours upstairs before coming back down?"

The man chuckled, "Must be nice being young. I never knew Sanji had it in him."

"What?" He feigned being shocked. "I knew that kid ever since he was little. I always suspected that he swung the other way."

"But that woman-obsessed kid? Gay?"

"That's what he wants you to thin-"

Zoro grabbed the cooks by the backs of their necks, gripping their skins very tightly. They could not turn around to see who was holding on to them because the swordsman was keeping them in place. He growled, "Shut the hell up." Then the cooks froze on spot before going back to work silently, not bothering to turn around even after Zoro had released them.

"Oi, earth to marimo!"

The swordsman was zapped back to present with Sanji's words. "Huh?" He asked, perhaps he had missed something. The blond was looking at him with expectant eyes.

"I asked," Sanji drawled, his eyes boring into Zoro's, "when does your night job start?" He had turned his full attention towards Zoro as he walked alongside the man.

There was a flare of interest towards Zoro in Sanji's eyes, which made the swordsman a bit uncomfortable. Sure, the blond could ask shallow questions about him from time to time, but going around the edges about his job was a bad idea. Soon the cook would be asking 'where do you work?' or, 'what do you work as?" And Zoro could not afford that to happen, essentially because he did not want to lie through his teeth to Sanji. Strangely, he wanted to keep an honest face in front of the curly man.

"Late at night," he answered.

Sanji's eyebrow twitched. "When exactly is that?"

"After the sun sets," a tiny grin playing on his lips.

The blond rolled his eyes, "Fine, you don't have to tell me. Not that I give ten fucks about when your job starts anyways. I just want to know when the hell you are leaving."

"Right," Zoro stretched out the word. "I'll be out of your skin before you go to bed, prissy blonde."

"Whatever you say, ma-ri-mo," he sang the last word, his voice rising in pitch with each separated syllable.

The green haired man groaned, "How do you even know what a 'marimo' is?" Sanji didn't seem to be Japanese, or any type of Asian descent. He just appeared... white, with the typical Aryan traits of blonde hair and blue eyes.

Sanji stuffed his hands into his pocket, kicking the ground, "I visited Japan with Nami-san before, I picked up few words here and there." He was pouting, sticking his bottom lip forward.

Huh. Nami... "That red haired bitch?" Zoro asked, insensitive to Sanji's feelings towards her.

The blond sharply twisted his head, his eyes drilling a hole into Zoro's. "Bastard," he snarled. "Don't talk about my lady like that! Women are beautiful creatures and they should be treated with utmost respect, especially Nami-san."

The swordsman rolled his eyes. It seemed that this idiot cook was overly protective over anyone who had boobs and painted nails. "Whatever, dumbass."

"What did you say, idiot mossball?" Sanji flared, trying to intimidate the swordsman by sticking his neck forward, leaning closer to Zoro.

"I said," drawing out the word, "you are a dumbass with curly eyebrows." He insulted smugly, holding the intense eye contact with the cook since the two of them were on the same eye-level.

"Dammit marimo, leave my fucking eyebrows out of this!" He leaned closer to Zoro, to an extent that Zoro could feel his breath on his skin and smell the smog of cigarettes entering his nostrils.

A group of high school girls giggled towards them as they passed by, one of them pointing out the fact that their faces were intimately close to one another's. Sanji's expression became idiotic, grinning stupidly wide, as he began to skip behind them, calling out "Mademoiselles!" with an exaggerated French accent.

Damn, what a retard.

Zoro stood in place, watching the girls giggle as Sanji acted pretentiously suave with them, running his fingers through his own blonde locks and awfully being affectionate with the girls he just met. From afar the swordsman could not overhear their conversation, since they were talking softly, but the distance was not far enough for his own voice to reach Sanji's ears. So he called out, "Oi, dumbass."

The reaction was almost immediate. The blond jerked his head from the girls to Zoro, glaring at the man. He seemingly apologized to the girls before treading on the barren sidewalk, heading towards Zoro with an angry expression. "What did you say, shitty marimo? You wanna fight?" Feeling the atmosphere, the high school girls hurried along with frightened expressions.

As if you could beat me. Zoro smirked. After all, he had pinned down the cook earlier.

"Bring it, eyebrows." Not even bothering to add an extra word that was 'curly' before eyebrows. He gave the blond his notorious lopsided grin that most people shitted at the sight of. But expectantly, the cook appeared aloof to his expression. He probably grew accustomed to Zoro's face already.

If Zoro wasn't imagining it, the world had stopped at their will. Even the wind seemed to have ceased its traveling for the sake of these two men. There was a heavy lingering silence as Zoro stared Sanji down, holding his ground against the blond's icy stare.

The first attack was made by the hot headed cook, who swung his legs impossibly fast, aiming for Zoro's shins. Zoro supposed that Sanji had learned his lesson from their last fight since he avoided swinging his feet in the air, where it was easy for Zoro to throw him over his shoulder. The swordsman dodged the kick to his side, easily. Then he swung his right fist in a scooping motion, going straight for the blond's stomach. But dammit! Sanji was fucking quick! Like an acrobat, he twisted his body towards Zoro before shooting his leg up, knocking Zoro's fist out of the air.

Shit.

But before that foremost thought could fully process, he was slammed behind the wall behind him and the blond's face came very close to his own once more. "Huh, maybe I'll make you beg for mercy," he remarked with a dropped tone of voice, which strangely sent shudders down Zoro's spinal cord.

"You wish." Fuck, I wish I had my swords.

The blond smiled, all innocent and child-like, before slamming the sole of his foot into Zoro's shoulder. Yes, he was that flexible.

The swordsman coughed, the shoe was ramming into the tender part of his shoulder. And although the ground beneath him was slithering, causing him to be unstable, and his head was ringing from slamming into the wall before, he never felt so alive. Blood was coursing through his body and exhilaration pumped his heart, echoing the thumps of his beating chest to his ears. He felt bloodthirsty. He wanted more. The only other person he felt this sensation with was Kuina, whom he fought with his brain rather than pure strength, for the two of them already had full knowledge of each other's abilities.

"Hey, don't tell me the high and mighty Zoro is already finished?" Sanji slurred his voice.

If Zoro had not been a bigger man, he would've shitted his pants a long time ago. The blond's expression was quite menacing.

"In your fucking dream, you shitty- gah."

The foot plunged further into Zoro's shoulder. "Hm?" Sanji innocently asked, "What, marimo?"

Zoro continued, "You're a piece of sh- gah."

The blond raised an eyebrows as he was on the process of shattering the swordsman's shoulder. "Hm?"

The swordsman grabbed Sanji's leg, gripping his calves with his firm calloused hand. "Two can play at that game," he announced as he played the game of endurance with the cook.

Sanji twitched his eye, the visible one that was not hidden beneath that curtain of bangs. "I'll break your shoulder."

"I'll break your leg."

Neither side dropped their hard cold stares, neither bent their pride for the sake of their body parts. And only when a girl's voice cried out, "Officer, this is where the fight is happening," the two snapped out of their 'zones'. Sanji's eye widened in shock as he loosened his foot off of Zoro's shoulder, subsequently leading Zoro to loosen his grip on the blond's calves.

"Holy fuck," he took the words right out of Zoro's mind.

"Crap." Zoro was not very colorful with his words.

A flashlight beamed their way, "Hey, stop!" A man's voice called out, but his face was hidden due to the light hitting Zoro and Sanji smack in the face. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, hell no. I am not getting arrested. Getting fired in one day is enough. Marimo, we are running," he declared as he began to sprint away from the flashlight. Zoro shortly following after him.

"Stop!" The officer yelled, attempting to run after them.

"Hell no," the blond replied, and running implausibly faster. If Zoro hadn't been a very fit man himself, he would have been ditched awhile ago.

The blood coursed through his veins as he ran alongside the cook, not as much adrenaline as before when he had been fighting against the blond, but still exhilarating. Wind whistled into his ears and the three earrings chimed like a song. And strangely, must be the night high, he and the cook were laughing their asses off. Although the police officer was long behind them, they didn't stop until they reached Sanji's apartment.

"Hah... hah... We ran a long way, didn't we?" The blond panted with a silly grin on his face, "Wasn't that fun?" He was leaning over, lightly resting his hands on his knees, not too much pressure since it had not healed yet. His bangs produced a streak of shadow across his face, cloaking his full expression from Zoro.

The swordsman scowled, noticing how the bangs prevented him from seeing Sanji's full face.

But... why do I care?

He didn't. Of course he didn't. But out of slight curiosity, he asked, "Why do you cover your eye?" in a nonchalant manner, as though he was more interested in breaking the silence than actually getting the answer out of the man.

But Sanji did not buy it. "Why the sudden curiosity?"

Though Zoro should be leaving by now, with work and all, he stayed in front of the apartment door with Sanji, chatting about why he fucking had bangs. How ridiculous. "Just asking, dartboard, don't get all fussy with me."

"Hm," the blond was thinking. That was bad. Thinking meant... "I have one condition." Shit. "If I give you an answer, you have to give an answer too. I have questions too, you know."

Zoro thought about it. Did he really want to know the secret behind the cook's bangs? Not really.

"What's your question?"

So much for not wanting to know.

"Wait, wait," the green haired man placed his palms in front of him. He saw that mischievous grin emerging and a light bulb lighting up above Sanji's head. It was slightly unnerving. "It can't be personal. It has to be simple like my question."

Sanji frowned, the shape of his lips bending downwards. "You suck," he stated as he ran his fingers through his head, avoiding his bangs as he did so. "Guess you will never know the secret behind my luxurious hair."

"Let me guess, it has something to do with your eyebrows." How could he not have guessed before! Sanji's eyebrows! Duh. The blond had his bangs covering one-half of his face because he didn't want to reveal the direction his curly brows faced.

The blond's face streaked with a scarlet line across his cheeks. Ding ding ding, a winning bell rang inside Zoro's head.

"Fuck you, marimo. Be here by nine." Sanji slipped inside the building, popping up a middle finger at him.

Zoro grinned, watching the last form of the blond before walking away from the apartment.

.~.~.~.~.~.

His lips were stretched out. He was grinning like a fool.

Unexpectedly, he had enjoyed the day. He had anticipated everything to go down ever since this morning, since it had started off badly with Sanji making him wake up early and stuff; but he had completely caught up on sleep in Baratie and had worked out vigorously against the blond. That was Zoro Roronoa's description of a good day.

It was funny how the blond was an open book for him though, like his guess with the blonde bangs. His reaction had been gold too, reddening to the state of a tomato like that. However, the swordsman had to be careful. If he continued to prob into the blond's business like that, he would soon be asking questions Zoro cannot provide an answer to. And he wasn't about to reveal any secrets of his own.

The green haired man had work tonight, but he needed someone to take him there since his car had ran out of gas this morning. He aimlessly strolled into an alleyway, hoping he would see the 'familiar' people.

As soon as he entered, he became surrounded.

Twenty-one men, he counted.

Each and one of them held at least a single weapon in their hands, varying from a heavy metal pole to a pistol. "Well, well, well, what do we have here? Bro, isn't it too dangerous for you to be walking around this late at night?" A single man, who Zoro assumed was their leader, stepped forward.

Perhaps they weren't the 'familiar' people?

"If you don't know already, us millions own this territory, so just peacefully hand over your money and we'll let you go." After his words, the group howled with laughter.

Zoro grinned. "Millions, is that right?" He stepped forward, closer to the leader of the group. "I am Zoro Roronoa," he whispered into his ear as he passed by.

The whole group froze, presumably from fear. And someone let out a loud and frightened, "Oh, shit."

"Take me to your boss," Zoro snarled with a beastly grin.

AN: Okay, as you might have noticed, this chapter came out much more detailed than the rest and kind of depressing. Eek... Guess this isn't going to be a happy fanfiction after all? Haha... So...

Thank you for those who took time out of their lives to read this. I hope you enjoyed this chapter~

(I actually switched around a lot of things in this chapter as I was editing it. Sorry guys! The plot is the same but a lot of events are newly made or taken out.)