o.O.o
Wano smelled of condensation, hibiscus and black earth in the heat of the tropical night. Crickets chirped, as did the hearts of those living in the rebuilt land. Kaido was defeated after two decades of reign of terror, and his subordinates were dead or missing.
The heroes of Wano, the Akazaya and the Straw Hat Pirates, led by Monkey D. Luffy, received the highest honours. They were pampered and feted by the citizens who had suffered so much at the hands of the heartless beast, who had transformed into a terrifying legendary dragon.
Luffy was starting to get tired of all the attention. He had fully recovered and his thirst for adventure, more alive than ever, was driving him forward. He felt that his journey was entering a critical phase and that his destination was closer than ever. Impatient as he was, he ordered his crew to load the ship with supplies and set sail in a few weeks. In the meantime, to calm his anxiety, he was busy annoying the rival captains Kid and Law, who were beginning to get fed up with the hyperactive young adult.
Nami, who managed the money better than anyone else, had put the three of them up together in a hotel in the Capital of Flowers, much to the delight of their respective crews and to the horror of Law, who grumbled like an old man and complained to his dear friend Bepo about the witch of his rivals. It didn't do him much good, as the mink was happy to spend his time with the Mugiwara, and especially with Dr Chopper, with whom he shared his love of herbology and medicinal plants; it was not for nothing that the polar bear was part of the crew of the best surgeon in the world.
The Navigator had sheltered her own companions in one of the oiran houses that had been left standing after the destruction of Onigashima. They had been unharmed, being further away from the centre of the fighting.
Sanji and Zoro, on the other hand, had been sent to the Flower Capital together with Luffy. Nami had rented a room for the two of them together, near the Captain and his new friends. The excuse the redhead gave them when the swordsman complained that she was always too stingy when it came to the two of them was that the two Wings of the future Pirate King could not afford to be away from their protégé, especially at a time when Luffy's bounty was 3,000,000,000,000,000 berries.
― It's always the same because of that witch... ― Zoro complained angrily as he walked behind the cook down the corridor of the inn to his assigned room. ― I always end up sharing a room with you, Shitty Curls.
―Fuck you, Marimo...― Sanji didn't want to fight that night and kept his tone calm. He had been cooking his soba noodles all day. Feeding a population that had been so hungry for the past few years had given him the strength to do his best no matter how exhausted he was, but somehow, the same situation had drained him emotionally and he had no desire to argue with the swordsman. ― Don't talk shit about Nami, she's just doing it to keep an eye on Luffy... You know how he is.
Zoro remained silent, not jumping into the fray as he would have done on any other occasion. Never in a million years would he give the Curly Prince any credit, especially not out loud, but he knew and understood him well enough to know that he took the hunger of the underprivileged very seriously. I knew he was truly exhausted after serving others all day.
As if understanding his show of respect, the blond cook turned to him, raised an eyebrow and gave him a shit―eating grin.
Zoro smiled back and added nothing more. He didn't need to.
Zoro was silent, without argument, as he would have been on any other occasion. Never in a million years would he give the Curly Prince any credit, certainly not out loud, but he knew and understood him well enough to know that he took the hunger of the underprivileged very seriously. I knew he was truly exhausted after serving others all day.
As if understanding his show of respect, the blond cook turned to him, raised an eyebrow, and gave him a shit―eating grin.
Zoro smiled back and added nothing more. He didn't need to.
The peace between them lasted just as long as it took to find their room, open the door and discover that Nami, in her thriftiness, had rented a single room.
―The bed is mine! ― Sanji leapt forward and threw himself onto the mattress as if it were the sailor's breasts.
―No! No way! ― Zoro shouted ― No way!
He grabbed his ankle and dragged him to the floor, but the cook was quick and, anticipating something like this, had grabbed the headboard with both hands.
―Let go! Let me go!
―Get out of there, asshole! You knew it! Get out of my bed!
―How the fuck should I know? This is my bed! I asked for it first!
―Sleep on the floor! ― Zoro shouted at him, the veins in his neck bursting.
―You sleep on the floor! It wouldn't be the first time!
―Not when there's a bed!
―You always sleep on the deck! It's my bed! I've been working all day! ― Sanji shouted indignantly.
―And so have I!
―Liar! All you've done is drink!
Zoro let go of him and stood up.
―You fucking idiot...
He turned around, insulted, and walked towards the door of the room.
―Where are you going now, you stupid Gorilla? ― Sanji looked over his shoulder, not letting go of the headboard.
―What do you care, asshole?
―I care if you get lost, you Defective Piece Of Compass, because Nami will be mad at me! ― and repeated the question ―Where are you going?
―To continue drinking, you Useless Curl...
Zoro opened the door to the room and slammed it shut, leaving the cook alone.
As soon as Zoro came out, Sanji let go of the wood and lay on his back, sighing.
―Idiot, idiot, idiot!
Always the same. This Moss Mountain was looking for any excuse to fight, drink and brawl with him. There was no change in him, he'd been a lot worse over the years.
He got out of bed and went to a small bathroom with a small shower in the corner of the room. It wasn't luxurious, but it was comfortable and very clean. He turned his head to the only other piece of furniture in the room besides the bed, a small wardrobe. He walked over to it and opened it. He found towels, bedding and pyjamas. He grabbed what he needed and headed for the shower.
The icy water slid down his body, sending shivers down his spine. He didn't need warmth, he already had plenty of it.
Suddenly, out of the blue, tears started falling from his eyes, sliding down his cheeks.
Uncontrollably.
He pushed back his soaked hair, both eyebrows uncovered, the water from the shower mixing with the water in his eyes. The first sob broke from his chest and ended in a wrenching scream. He emptied himself, pouring out all the frustration he felt.
He was in the shower for over two hours, crying bitterly, and when he finally calmed down and came out, the skin on his cheeks was raw.
It didn't matter, it would pass quickly. He was an improved man now, thanks to his bastard biological father.
He wrapped himself in a grey―blue kimono with the Kozuki Clan crest embroidered on the upper left. He grabbed a towel and began gently drying and combing his hair with his fingers. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks red from crying.
His blue eyes glistened feverishly with the trail of tears.
"What a face..." he thought and tried to smile, "I look terrible...".
He had a well―proportioned body, broad―chested, muscular, and smooth, porcelain skin glistening with water droplets. His wavy blond hair was like golden wheat in the summer sun, though he insisted on straightening it to cover a single spiral eyebrow, a hideous genetic inheritance. His features were fine, masculine, with a square, symmetrical jaw. His belly was naturally chiseled and marked, and his legs were as long as two columns in a temple in Skypiea.
Nothing like the lanky, shapeless, big―headed teenager he once was.
"I'm handsome" he admitted, proud of himself, "so... Why doesn't he want me? Why doesn't he love me?"
Tears filled his eyes again, creating tiny prisms as they reflected in the light.
"I wish I wasn't a man."
He left the bathroom and went to the chest of drawers where he had seen a kettle. He was going to make some tea to calm himself down.
And he got a terrible shock when he found Zoro leaning against the door frame of the room, his arms folded in a gesture all his own, staring at him with his one healthy eye. He hadn't felt his presence.
―What the fuck are you doing, you fucking Marimo, coming in like a ninja!
Reacting quickly to prevent the swordsman from seeing any trace of tears on his face, Sanji threw himself back onto the bed, this time sitting up, cross―legged.
Zoro said nothing. He remained leaning against the door frame of the room, an angry grimace on his face.
―Can't you hear me, asshole? Let's go to sleep!
The swordsman snorted in disdain. He opened his cloak, took off his haramaki and unbuckled the belt he always wore hidden underneath. The three swords fell from his waist. Carefully, he placed them against the wall.
―Don't order me around, Shit Cook. I am your superior.
Sanji bristled like a stray cat at a stray dog.
―What the fuck are you my superior, you green bastard! You couldn't beat me at anything in a million years!
―You're a pathetic fourth on the bounty list, aren't you ashamed of yourself?
―Your ego is embarrassing! ― And as he lay back down on the bed, he added ―I don't feel like playing with you today, Marimo Boy, I'm sleepy, I'm tired and I have to get up very early tomorrow.
Zoro said nothing more. He took off his cloak and the rest of his clothes and stood in the middle of the room in his underwear. Confused, he looked to both sides of the room, searching for something.
―Oi, Eyebrows, where are my pyjamas?
―How should I know...― Sanji sat up again, leaned on his elbow on the mattress and pointed to the wardrobe, ―I took mine out of there, so they must be there.
―Hm...― Zoro went over to the place Sanji indicated and rummaged through the clothes. ― Oi... There's only this here...
He held out a tiny pink cotton sleeping yukata with cherry blossoms printed on it. Sanji burst out laughing.
―It's a woman's...― Zoro raised an eyebrow.
Sanji continued to laugh. Seeing this, the swordsman gave a half―smile and pursed his lips in a mocking frown. He tried to pull the robe over his head.
―Too small for me ― he joked.
He threw the small yukata on the floor, turned off the lights in the room and lunged towards the bed, causing Sanji to bounce on the mattress.
―Hey, what are you doing! This is where I sleep!
―I don't sleep on the floor, you idiot... Move over... ― And Zoro pushed him over without a second thought, then rolled over on his back, his one open eye staring at the ceiling.
Sanji grumbled like an old man, but pulled away and rolled onto his side, facing his partner. The scar on Zoro's bare chest glistened in the dim moonlight filtering through the only window in the room. He swallowed. He'd seen it a thousand times, but he always wanted to... touch it.
They stood like that for a long time, in silence, listening to the crickets chirping in the tropical Wano night. Everything was quiet, and it was comforting to know that they were partly responsible for the silence.
―Why were you crying? ― Zoro broke the silence. ―What is wrong with you?
Sanji was startled. Either he'd heard him cry or he'd noticed. Either way, his question was strange, it wasn't as if Zoro cared much about what he did or didn't do.
―Nothing, Marimo ― he muttered. ― There's nothing wrong with me.
Zoro turned his head until Sanji came into the field of vision of his one eye, watching him with a raised eyebrow. The swordsman sighed. He knew very well that he wouldn't get any information.
―It's not good to keep things to yourself― he commented indifferently. ― They'll fester... Sometimes you have to let It go.
Sanji looked down. He blushed, feeling exposed.
He didn't need to explain to Zoro why he'd cried earlier, or why he'd been crying for over two and a half years now every time they finished an adventure and the fucking swordsman managed to get away unscathed, even after he'd been on the verge of fucking die a thousand times.
He didn't need to explain why he cried silently every time Zoro miraculously recovered and ordered sake like the drunk he was...
He didn't even need to tell him that every time he appeared with his head split open and cut from head to toe, he felt an insurmountable fear, a terror that almost paralysed him, at the thought of him dying.
He didn't need to tell him that he loved him with all his heart, with all his soul, with all his being, that he was overflowing with passion when he looked at him.
He didn't need to tell him that it was getting harder and harder to hide the hurricane of love that had swept over him… the first time he saw him.
He didn't have to because Sanji knew that Zoro knew.
And he also knew that Zoro would never return his love.
So he kept quiet, tried to calm himself down, breathed rhythmically, tried not to pout, tried not to let the urge to cry choke his throat.
―You know? ― Zoro broke the silence again ― We're close to the end...
―I know...― He struggled to speak.
―When it's all over, when Luffy is King and we have all achieved our goals, what will you do?
Sanji looked at him in surprise. Zoro, who was sparing with his words, did not like to ask questions that were none of his business. He hadn't expected to be interested in what he was going to do next.
―I don't know...― he whispered back ― I think I'll go to Zeff first.
―Hm... Do you miss him? ― Zoro then turned to him, the two of them facing each other. Sanji held back a shudder.
―Yes...― he admitted ― Very much... This old shit is my father.
Zoro smiled mockingly and nodded his head.
―I will go to Koshiro's dojo ― he explained ―I will visit Kuina's grave. After that, I will stay there with him.
―Will you take over the dojo? ― Sanji asked in a whisper.
―If Koshiro wants me to...― And suddenly, he added ―We will be far away, Eyebrows. We may never see each other again.
Sanji felt his heart clench at these words. A terrible fear gripped his stomach and rose in his throat, as if he had swallowed glass.
―Don't say that...― His voice cracked ―Of course we'll see each other... We'll all see each other.
―Will you miss me, Odd Curls?
Sanji felt his eyes fill with tears. He was sure that Zoro could tell, although he said absolutely nothing. He just looked at him quietly in the half―light of the room.
―I won't miss you because I'll see you. ― Sanji told him with the certainty of a man who keeps his promises.
―And that...? ―Zoro twisted his mouth into an amused grimace.
―I will go to your dojo...
―What for?
―To see you. ― Sanji was absolutely convinced.
―And when you see me, what will you do?
―I'll stay there with you.
―And if I don't want to?
―Of course, you want to... ― Sanji spoke with childlike confidence. Zoro laughed when Sanji blushed as he spoke those words with total conviction.
―What?
―Zoro looked at him with tender amusement gleaming in one eye.
―What are you laughing at, Marimo Idiot?!
Nothing, nothing...― the swordsman grinned like a shit―eater.
―Tell me or I'll kick you! Ridiculous!
―That you can't live without me.
Sanji opened his mouth to reply but closed it again. There it was. Zoro knew everything, he had the knowledge of everything, he had always known. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, he had blushed again, feeling so vulnerable.
When he opened his eyes again, Zoro was still watching him calmly. It was clear to Sanji that the swordsman had provoked this conversation, had led him down his shitty path so that, as he had told him earlier, he would let it go.
Well, he had succeeded, if that was what he wanted, he would let it go, but he would do it his way. He already knew the answer.
―No... I guess I can't live without you... I don't know why. ― He mumbled the last sentence, but it was a lie, he knew. And so did Zoro.
―It is what it is... ― The swordsman added without further embellishment.
―Does it bother you? ― Sanji asked, his voice trailing off.
―No... ―Zoro was silent for a while and then he whispered the question he really wanted to ask. ―That... Does it hurt?
―A little...―He lied again. It didn't hurt a little, it hurt a lot. It hurt terribly.
―I'm sorry.
―It's not your fault.
―Not you either. So, if it hurts a little... wouldn't it be better if you didn't come with me to the dojo? ― asked the swordsman.
―I think that would be the best thing... ―Sanji nodded.
―Zero contact, huh?
―Yes, that's what the experts say.
―The experts... on what?
―Unrequited love.
―Ah. These experts... Zoro took a few seconds to answer.
―Yes... Those...
Another silence between them. Outside, the chirping of crickets was the only sound in the night. There was no longer any doubt. The cards were on the table. Everything was said and done.
―Eyebrows... Love takes many forms. There is not only romantic love. ― Zoro added with a deep sigh. ―You know that.
Sanji smiled. He hadn't noticed a tear trickling down the corner of his visible eye. It hurt so much he thought his chest would burst.
―Are you telling me you love me your way? ― he snorted, trying to lighten the situation.
―Hm...
―See, that's why I don't mind going to the dojo with you...― And finally he laughed softly.
―And when I get married?
Zoro was gentle and brutal, in a strange paradox, weighing all the hypotheses, weighing the possibilities, laying out for him a supposed future reality. The ghostly sting in Sanji's stomach at his words made the chef twist a little. It was torture.
―Then I'll cook the best wedding feast in the world for you and your beautiful wife, and I'll take care of your children, too.
―This is very sad.
―It is what it is.
―I wish you were a woman. ― Zoro said and looked at him again.
―Would you marry me then? ― Sanji laughed, half joking, half serious. Now his tears flowed freely and unabashedly. He didn't care.
―Of course...
―It's unfair.
―It is what it is.
Sanji looked down, wiped his eyes with one hand and fixed his gaze on an undefined spot on the mattress.
―Oi... Eyebrows. ― Zoro was still watching him.
―What? ― The cook raised his reddened eyes again. He stifled a sob.
―You are stronger than me.
―I know. ― Sanji laughed merrily.
―I'd be so happy if you came with me.
―I know.
―But you must go your own way... Find your happiness elsewhere.
―I know.
―Now... Sleep. I'll keep watch.
―Oui, Marimo.
They fell silent again, and gradually Sanji's breathing became heavier. The emotional catharsis and the physical exhaustion helped to overcome his sleep.
―Eyebrows...
―Sanji watched him again, sleepily. The swordsman reached up and patted his head awkwardly.
― You'll get over it...
And Sanji nodded, closing his eyes, and letting the last tears of the night run gently down his cheeks.
The next two weeks went by quickly.
Sanji continued to feed the people and even taught the local cooks a few culinary tricks. Lovely ladies giggled and swirled around the handsome and genius cook, who was always smiling and ready to help. His innate kindness and genuine empathy meant that he always had an army of children around him, who would go home at the end of the day with the leftover noodles, pastries, and sweets.
Zoro, meanwhile, spent his days training, drinking, or lying on the grass and gazing out at the vast sea. The princess of Wano, Kozuki Hiyori, always accompanied him in silence, watching him admiringly and making sure his sake cup was always full. Speculation soon began about an alleged romance between the two, but the swordsman ignored the gossip and gently ignored the princess, though he never refused her company.
At night, the two Wings of the future pirate king shared a room, and not a day went by that the rest of the inn's guests did not hear a series of flowery insults, shouts and fights that never escalated.
They never had another moment of sincere intimacy because neither of them, each for their own reasons, was interested in delving into the deep feelings, so different yet equal, that they shared.
On the day of departure, after a rueful farewell to their good new samurai friends, they weighed anchor amidst the chaos of Luffy competing against Captains Kid and Law to see who had the most balls to throw their ship over the waterfall at the entrance to Wano. Zoro rolled his eyes and clung to the railing, while Sanji tried to catch Nami so that the screaming sailor wouldn't be thrown into the sea.
Hours later, when they were sailing calmly and still on course, Sanji finally shed his kimono and put on black velvet trousers and one of the white silk lace shirts he had taken from Germa. It was a few hours before dinner, and he was leaning against the railing of the beautiful caravel that was the Thousand Sunny, smoking a cigarette. The warm light of the setting sun glittered off the golden streaks in her hair. It was a pleasant feeling, albeit one of inexplicable nostalgia.
―Oi...
Zoro appeared at his side, leaning in as well and gazing out at the same infinite point in the sea that Sanji seemed to be staring at. The cook looked at him and said nothing, although he didn't mind the swordsman's company at all.
They stood in silence for a long time, enjoying each other's company, until Zoro turned and leaned back against the railing with both elbows. He opened his mouth to say something. Sanji looked up at him expectantly, the blue of the sea reflected in his eyes, giving them an intense turquoise colour. Zoro turned to him. They stared at each other for a few seconds. The swordsman smiled faintly.
Whatever Zoro wanted to say, he never did.
―I'm hungry, Weird Eyebrows ― he said instead.
And he walked away, leaving him alone again. The empty space the swordsman had occupied before grew heavy, the pain reappearing, digging straight into his stomach and writhing like a snake. Sanji watched him walk away, towards where Franky and Brook were laughing at some story Usopp was explaining. He watched as he joined in the laughter.
Zoro's laughter was a rare treasure, precious, and Sanji watched him for minutes, enraptured, uninhibited; he could stay like that for hours, watching him, recording every gesture and expression to remember when he was gone, when he was gone forever and wouldn't let him join him.
His eyes began to burn, filled with tears. He turned back to the sea so that no one would see him cry.
The swordsman was wrong about one thing, these feelings would never go away.
What Sanji knew and what Zoro, pragmatic as he was, ignored was that true love, if it was real, sincere, and generous, remained intact forever, whether it was reciprocated or not.
The end.