The blood test would take three hours to churn out results. Sanji gnawed away at the end of an unlit cigarette, resigning himself to stay in bed. He decided that the less he wandered around, the less he would see. That was best. But now, boredom started a restless itch in his limbs, and his mind kept casting back to Zoro and his guardian, Koshiro, still hopeful of his recovery.
His door clicked open and Sanji all but leapt out of his bed with joy when Nami graced the room with her radiant presence.
"Nami!" he exclaimed, almost spitting out the cigarette. He made to push himself up on the bed, but she held up a hand.
"It's fine, don't get up," she said with a laugh. "Sorry I left you earlier. I just wanted to shower and get changed, but I ended up falling asleep on the couch for a few hours."
Sanji shook his head. "You don't have to worry about me. But I'm flattered Miss Nami cares about me."
She rolled her eyes. "How are you feeling?"
"Better, now that you're here."
Nami gave a doubtful hum, pulling up a chair beside the bed. "Chopper told me you got sick."
"Ah, that. It's nothing. I really do feel better now."
"Nothing?"
Sanji met her eyes. The glinting brown clearly implying that she had an inkling of what Sanji was going through. But it was never something he could talk about openly to others. Not even with Nami.
She sighed, sensing his reluctance to talk and leaned back on the chair.
"You really hate hospitals, don't you?"
You know why, thought Sanji. But he chuckled and decided to change the topic.
"How is everyone? Did they get home okay?"
"Yeah, all probably still sleeping off the hangover and the trauma," answered Nami with a nod. "Thanks again for what you did."
Sanji held a hand to his heart. "It was my solemn duty. Whatever trouble may become of my lovely girls, I will always be there."
"Alright, but next time, try not get so beat up."
She sat forward, her feet tapping on the floor. "So, when did Chopper say you could get discharged?"
Sanji shrugged. "It all depends on the blood tests. I hope it's soon."
She nodded, her delicate fingers fiddling with the edge of her jumper. After a moment, she stood up and clapped her hands together.
"I'll go find him and ask. Bet your itching to get out of here, right?"
Sanji frowned as he watched her leave the room. What was she so fidgety about?
Nami was gone for a good fifteen minutes. Sanji used that time to slowly recover his motor skills, sliding himself out of bed and stretching out gently and carefully so as not to pull his stitches. Back in his bathroom, he splashed water on his face and inspected himself in the mirror.
The dark bruise was still there, but his face was a lot less swollen now. Drying himself off, he was about to climb back into bed, when Nami burst into the room with a thin pile of papers in her hand.
"Tests are fine!" She declared, waving the papers in the air. "And Chopper says you can go."
Sanji felt a weight lift from his shoulders. "Really?"
"Uh-huh!" Nami nodded. "You could even walk out right now."
Sanji frowned. "Doesn't Chopper have to sign me out or something?"
"He said he would, but he's a bit caught up with other patients at the minute, and seeing as you're perfectly fine, he said you're good to go."
It didn't seem likely, but like hell Sanji was going stick around anymore. With a smile on his face, he grabbed his jacket and followed Nami out of the room.
"Alright, let's go."
They were halfway down the hallway when Sanji stopped again, glancing into Zoro's room. Koshiro was still there, sat beside his bed with an open book in his lap. He was talking to Zoro, but Sanji couldn't hear his words through the glass. The elder man caught Sanji out of the corner of his eyes and turned to wave at the blonde.
"Sanji?" Nami called from the end of the hallway.
"Uh, just give me a minute!"
Sanji entered the room. After causing such a fuss, he didn't want to just leave the man without a proper goodbye and easing his mind. The CD player was turned off, to his relief, and the room was quiet again save for the beeping of the life support machine.
"Ah, Sanji-kun," Koshiro greeted him. "You were gone for some time. Are you alright?"
Sanji nodded. "Yeah, sorry about that. I was actually getting treated here, but they've discharged me now."
"Ah. You've come to say goodbye to Zoro?"
"Er…" Sanji glanced down at the green-haired guy on the bed. "Sort of. Well, not really. Uh. We don't really, uh…"
Koshiro smiled. "It's fine. I understand. But you're welcome to come visit any time you like. I'll be here."
Sanji nodded. "Y-yeah. Thanks. Um…"
Koshiro looked up at him, waiting for the rest of his sentence. But Sanji couldn't bring any of the words he wanted to say to his mouth. There's no point. He's trying to leave the world but you're keeping him here. It hurts but you need to let go and move on.
Nothing. Who could say that to someone with a dying loved one? Much less someone Sanji didn't know anything about? He shook his head and forced a smile on his face.
"I -it's nothing."
Koshiro's face softened. "Is this the first you've heard of Zoro's condition?"
Sanji decided to go with the flow and nodded.
"Don't worry, Sanji-kun. Zoro is strong. He'll pull through this one, you'll see."
Sanji bit his lip. How many times had Koshiro said those words to himself? He opened his mouth again, wanting to say something to ease the man's conscience, but Koshiro spoke again.
"Oh, don't let us keep you," he said. Sanji followed his line of sight to see Nami watching them from behind the window. He'd better go.
"Alright. Take care," he muttered and left the room to join Nami in the corridor.
"Who's that?" asked Nami, as soon as the door closed behind Sanji.
But the blonde only shook his head and strode off down the corridor. Nami didn't say anything else after that until they left the hospital building and Sanji breathed out in relief.
"So, what was that all about?" she queried again, as they walked to the car park.
Sanji sighed, the hitch in his breath begging for a cigarette. He stalled for time, fumbling in his pockets for a stick and his lighter, as his friend watched him and waited patiently for an answer. He lit up, took in smoke in a long, deep breath before letting it all out along with the tension in his shoulders.
He supposed there was no harm in telling Nami. Another bonus of having her around is that she actually believed him when he spoke of seeing spectres. That was rare. Whether or not she was just humouring him, Sanji didn't know. But it helped, somewhat.
"Did you see the guy in that room? The one in the bed?"
Nami nodded. "You know him?"
"No," he paused for another drag, watching a confused frown pull at Nami's delicate face. "I've been having nightmares ever since I got to the hospital. He's in them. Well, except it's not really him, I guess."
He stopped when he saw the frown on Nami's face slowly curl into a smile.
"This isn't the type of dream where he flies in through your window, is it?" She chided, slapping Sanji's arm playfully.
He said nothing and she quickly dropped the joke.
"Sorry. Couldn't resist."
"I think I'd rather have those dreams, to be honest," said Sanji, rubbing at his temples as the image of bloodied man invaded his mind again. "The ones I keep having are horrible. It's him. It looks exactly like him, but… He's all cut up, and covered in blood. And god, his eyes… Fuck."
Sanji shook his head as the memory became too vivid and hastened to finish his cigarette. Nami placed a sympathetic hand on his arm. It was comforting, if only a little patronising. Sanji was grateful for the sympathy, of course, especially from his treasured Miss Nami. But sympathy can only go so far. There was nothing they could do to help.
"But… I don't understand," said Nami. "I thought you could only see, er, you know, the one's who've… gone. This guy's still alive, isn't he?"
"I don't understand it myself, either. But I'm just glad to be out of there."
Stubbing out his cigarette, Sanji made to leave. But Nami held on to his arm.
"Wait, why don't I give you a ride home?"
"Ah, thank you, but you don't have to. I can get home fine."
"You're probably aching from your fight still, right? It'll be easier and quicker if I took you home."
She shoved a white, rounded helmet at his chest, implying that he had no other choice. Sanji smiled.
"Ah, my lovely, Nami! You're so gracious to present me with such an opportunity! I'd love to share a love bike ride with you!"
Nami wafted a hand in the air, as she led them to her scooter parked in a wide gap between two cars.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," she said. "But call my Waver a 'love bike' again and I'll push you off it. Also, if your hands wander anywhere inappropriate, I might make a sudden turn and 'accidentally' knock you off the bike while we're going at forty, alright?"
She winked, smiling sweetly, before clasping her own blue helmet on and mounting her scooter, rolling it out of the narrow space. Sanji laughed nervously, getting on and deciding that two hands clasped lightly on her hips were enough to keep him balanced instead of the noodley embrace he had planed earlier. He knew Nami's threats were anything but empty.