Chapter Text
Sanji had barged into the castle, hoping he wouldn’t lose sight of his goal. He’ll fight anyone worthy to be his opponent and they’ll be one step closer to their captain’s dream. If they win this battle, it would show them a glimpse of Luffy becoming the king of the pirates. If kaido is gone, wano will be free and they’ll be giving momonosuke and the others another chance. The prophecy will come true after twenty years, and they’ll be the ones to make it happen.
Sanji had thought of so many things. He had imagined their victory would be glorious, that he would laugh and cook another banquet. Like always, they’ll emerge on the top despite the hardships and pain. Luffy would heal after the battle, and so would everyone else. That was his belief.
But now, it felt too good to be true. Every cut and burn on his body bled, and he wasn’t sure if it could ever heal properly. He dragged his every step but continued to move ahead. His destination was near. He could hear the battle cries through the ringing in his ears. The voices cut through the fog of his brain, bringing life back to his muted senses.
He could see the crumbled walls leading into the performance hall. The red flare and heat hinted at the intense battle going on inside. The laughter of their enemies echoed into the halls. He stopped near the rubbles and debris.
Sanji looked down. He raised his arm and gently dusted away the invisible dirt on his clothes. The red blazer hid the blood, making it near impossible to spot the random spots. He made sure to tighten the bandages even more. With one hand, he tugged up his collar, trying his best to hide the ring of bruises on his neck.
He couldn’t bear to look in the mirror, despite wanting to make sure that none of his injuries looked too odd. The mirror might show him something he didn’t want to see right now, like how dirty he looked or if his eyes still looked too red.
He wanted to spare himself from the grief too. What was done couldn’t make him give up fighting again. If he had made his way all the way here, then there was no way he was backing away now. He ended up loving and hating it at the same time. He was brave, but also a coward. He decided to come here, so where was this hesitation coming from?
The decision was his to make. He asked himself the same question, what would his crew want?
The answer came in the shouts coming from the performance hall. The voice he could recognize anywhere.
It was Zoro’s voice, piercing through his cloud of doubtfulness. He didn’t need to think anymore, not wanting to give himself another second to change his decision. His next steps became lighter as he carried himself towards the red light and unbearable heat.
His crew needed him, and that was enough of a reason to fight. With a kick to the ground, he gritted his teeth and flew up. His first kick connected with someone much larger than him, and with his burning leg, he sent it flying away. His burning emotions were his fuel now.
He was inside the performance for precisely ten minutes. In those moments, he kept himself out of reach of his crew. He had glanced at Zoro once and saw him standing strong and resilient. His gaze must have been felt, because the next second, they locked eyes.
Those eyes pierced through his soul, and without intention, Sanji felt his whole body shudder. Right now, he couldn’t afford to get close to him and risk his secret. If Zoro sees anything out of the ordinary, questions will be asked that he has no answer to.
He raced through the debris, mocked Queen, and got out of the hall with an enemy following him. He didn’t look back and successfully avoided the observant eyes of their doctor. His opponent was right behind him, and that was all that mattered. The tingling feeling combined with the sensation of his skin hardening was purposely ignored. If anything, his wounds would stop bleeding, and he’d be left with a new body to break.
Sanji couldn’t stop his mind from spiraling the moment he stepped into the halls of another pleasure hall. He still kept running, never stopping.
Queen must have sensed something was wrong with him because his next question made him stop breathing.
“Why don’t you fight me? Too scared?” he yelled at him, a horrible sneer on his face as he looked at him with mild irritation.
His fingers touched the bruising, but all he felt was the cold sweat. His neck was throbbing with pain, but that wasn’t all. His heart stuttered too quickly inside his chest, his heart wanting to burst out and bleed all over the place. The hot sweat felt more like acid running down his body.
It seemed like no part of his body felt like his own. His tired legs still ran, dodging attack after attack, carrying him out of the halls. He didn’t dare speak to Queen. His tongue was just too heavy with unspoken horrors, waiting to be spilled over if he voices it. His mind was fumbled with thoughts, unable to separate the thin line of reality and mere fabrications.
He wasn’t even sure how long he fought Queen. One moment he was running away, and the next he was standing in front of another brothel. The crumbling of walls and loud explosions around him made him fight like never before. His kicks hit Queen, knocking him to the ground, but the bastard would get up again. The fact that he kept yelling about his brothers and Germa caused something inhuman to spark inside him. Something that had something to do with his sudden hardened skin and unusual loss of senses.
If things were different, he would have called Zoro. if the worst comes, he would have asked him to kill him. Dying was the better option than becoming monsters like his brothers. The part about being emotionless didn’t feel so bad now. As long as it promised him the loss of shaking hands and panic-ridden feelings, Sanji could deal with it.
The blood continued to seep through his bandages, but he didn’t give up. The agony of pain returned tenfold when Queen squeezed him, his ribs protesting against the strong grip. The cold metal dug deep into his skin. He coughed up some more blood, losing his senses.
His leg caught fire, ignited by his strong feelings. The warmth of those flames made him human, and so did the broken bones. He couldn’t get up from the ground, but there just wasn’t any other option. No one cared if he died fighting Queen, and his demise would be written to be something legendary.
But would his honor be sullied if they discovered the hidden bandages and the ugly truth under them? What would Zoro think? Hadn’t they made promises to stay together forever? So how could he break it so easily?
Sanji stood up again, wincing and hissing with each movement. He wiped away the blood from his forehead, watching the red blood dripping from his hands. If this broken body still had strength, then it was decided he wasn’t done yet.
His flames burst forth, and with one last surge of energy, he fought Queen. His red flames turned hotter and hotter until it all snapped. He felt like his body had finally reached its limit when the blue flames erupted out of his legs.
He kicked him with enough force that Queen went flying through the numerous walls before flying out of Onigashima. Sanji gritted his teeth, trying to control his heavy breathing. His body swayed back and forth, never finding the correct balance. In the haze of pain and fogginess, he heard someone shouting out to him. He caught the blur of pink hair running towards him before he allowed himself to let go. His job was done here. He had successfully defeated one of Kaido’s top commanders. The rest was up to his crew and Luffy.
Sanji lost consciousness before he even hit the ground.
★★★
Sanji was a good learner from a very young age, but it turned out that his lessons could have been more useful. At the age of six, he learned the fact that his father didn’t love him and that he didn’t share the same emotionless state as his brothers. They were cruel and took joy in violence, whereas Sanji enjoyed gardening. He loved playing in the dirt and making little sand castles. It was too bad that they were often stomped into piles of dirt by feet too little to destroy. That jeering laughter echoed, and Sanji didn’t like it at all.
At the age of seven, he lost his mother and learned the lesson that the weak died helplessly. It was another useless thing to learn because Luffy proved him wrong. Weak people needed protection, not their untimely deaths. His mother shouldn’t have died so soon, and he blamed himself for it too. The poison she took killed her, yet that same poison made him a human and gave him something as common as emotions.
Everyone had them, but few knew of their worth. His love was fierce like fire. His passion burned him hot, warming him from the inside out. With each passing moment, he basked in the knowledge that yes, he could cry and laugh. His mother gave him power so immense that Sanji couldn’t help but think of her sacrifice as something sacred.
At the age of eight, he learned the lesson that useless people like him belonged to dark places. Places like the castle dungeons where no light reached him. No one would heed his cries because he was weak, and children like him didn’t have the same privileges as his brothers. They could walk in the sunlight, yet unable to feel its warmth. They were free, unlike him.
For six months, Sanji remembered crying. The same mocking laughter returned to haunt him, but now those voices had become shrill and high-pitched. That dungeon and his time spent there wouldn’t let him forget and move on. Those unrelenting kicks and punches taught him the lesson that he’ll forever be useless.
There was no purpose for him except to sacrifice himself for the greater good. He was born a human, and that was what he was supposed to do. Forever, he’ll stay like this, no matter how much he grows up. His epilogue would be dying by giving up his life for people more important than him.
At the age of ten, another important lesson was added, but this time, it wasn’t something useless. The lesson is that ever since he was born, his birthright was a curse. Judge was unfit to be a father and a ruler. Germa was just plain evil and it wasn’t his fault that he was useless. Zeff saved him from the storm, gave him all the food, and never wanted anything in return. This was unreasonable love and Sanji had been missing this all his life.
At the age of twenty-one, he learned another harsh lesson, and out of all, this one caught him that his chivalry could cost him his life. Sanji loved women and treated them like deities. He used to think that they were pure and didn’t like to hurt anyone. Unlike men, he could express his gentlemanly side and that was all.
It all seemed like a badly tuned song now. The right and wrong side was all mixed up, and Sanji was just lost in it. If he picked up one, there were more to replace it. The list went on and on, a never-ending debate.
“Sanji?”
He turned his head to follow the voice and blinked wolfishly at Chopper. His little doctor looked at him with a tilted head, badly hidden concern shining through his eyes. Sanji had no idea why he was looking at him like that, and he was too tired to question him either.
Sanji didn’t speak or just didn’t want to anymore. It still felt like his mouth was filled with lead, his tongue heavy with lies and deceit. For last week, he kept his bandages clean and excuses ready to use.
He was clever enough not to let anyone from the crew look at his injuries. Trying to take matters into his own hands, he did what felt right. He told Chopper that some other doctor took care of his injuries and then acted hurt enough that opening it up seemed painful. Although he wasn’t so sure about the pain, considering he could barely walk on his legs.
“Luffy keeps asking after you, and wouldn’t give up. Nami said he’d have to be patient, but he’s stubborn. Can you come with me? Maybe he has some kind of list of food already prepared. And also- Zoro said that-”
“What does he want?” Sanji spoke, cutting off Chopper. His ears twitched in annoyance but he chose to ignore it. He was more eager to hear what Zoro said. Was he asking for him? Looking for him perhaps? Did he want him by his side?
Didn’t he know he was filthy now?
“Zoro’s waiting too.” Chopper said, “In fact, you weren’t there when the crew gathered in the hall. Everyone was there except for you. Why don’t you come with me?”
Another question that felt more like a command. Sanji looked away from Chopper, locking his eyes on the meat boiling in the pot. He picked up the stadle and stirred it, watching the vegetable swirl around. The smell of the broth brought much-needed comfort. Inside the kitchen, while cooking, he could feel normal again. Almost like he was preparing another feast after a very long battle, and his wounds were nothing but minor inconveniences. It felt right, and it was exactly what he needed.
That little daydream would break whenever he stepped outside and faced the bitter reality. Just looking at Yamato or Momosuke would make him want to bolt, thinking about the possibilities. They’re both important people in this country, and there was no telling how long his secret stays a secret. Anything can kickstart the rumors and then he’ll be done for.
He wants to get out of this country as soon as possible. For a whole week, he had been hanging on by a thread. For the first two days, he refused to move from his futon, pretending to be asleep whenever he caught the sight of his crew mates. It was better this way. They would ask questions about his previous limp, or the bruises on his neck.
Never had he imagined he’d have to hide like this from his crew members. It hurts that he has no other choice either. Until they leave wano, he needs to maintain a safe distance. Nothing that will raise warning bells. He has to be okay for the sake of his honor.
“I’m coming, Chopper. I need to prepare this soup and have it delivered to the sick bay. People are waiting, and you know how good this recipe is. It's made from both meat and vegetables. Green ones. They’ll feel better by taking one sip and…”
He kept ranting about his recipe, and his voice tuned out. Instead, he glanced at Chopper and watched as his concern slowly bled away. Mission accomplished.
Their doctor nodded at his words and departed with the note that he should finish soon. Sanji gave him a head pat and simply smiled. The little guy hopped away happily, and with his back turned, his smile melted off.
There was one more problem though. Sanji loved to laugh and cry as freely as breathing. The days when he would swirl around the ladies, making a fool of himself just to hear muffled laughter from them were behind him now. The usual spark didn’t seem to be there at all. It was muted, as simple as that. Everything felt numb nowadays as if someone had possessed his body, making him watch as his movements became guided by instincts rather than clear thoughts.
If anything remained, it was the sentiments he held for Zoro and his crew. They didn’t deserve any of this, and Sanji had no intention of hurting them further. More than that, he didn’t want to admit that he was unsure of their reactions and actions.
Luffy did so much for him already. He fought for him and saved him from the untimely death, and when Sanji didn’t want to leave his family to their fate, he stepped in and helped.
What more could he want from his captain? His crew wouldn’t want him after this, and might even be repulsed. They wouldn’t want to take responsibility after this. If anything, lying to their faces felt more like a betrayal. They would blame him for not telling them earlier, for hiding it like a crime. This burden would be too much for them to bear, and then they’ll see that he’s the problem.
Sanji would be kicked out from the crew, and not even Zoro could stop them. Keeping quiet and silently bearing this pain is a better option than being abandoned again. Baratie is too far away from Wano, and he’s not too confident that he’ll make the journey alone. He has to take chances with his crew.
Nothing has to change if he’s no different than before. No one will raise questions and the ugly truth will be buried forever.
Sanji stared blankly into the soup, never realizing when Chopper left and he’d been stirring the pot with automatic movements. The fumes rose and he smelled it, nodding at yet another perfect odor. He needs to keep cooking and going with the flow for another two days. Sanji is always ready to serve his crew, to fulfill their orders and he’ll be okay.
The soup was served in bowls, and Sanji called out for the kitchen staff. Trays were lifted and carried to hungry people. His job was done here.
With half-lidded eyes and a pained frown, he dragged his steps into the long hall and walked ahead. His legs weren’t cooperating again. For seven days, he’d wrapped them in bandages and continued to change them every twelve hours. Each time, the red stains became more sparse and few in between. The cuts were healing, kicked start by his effective regeneration abilities. His kimono covered everything, from top to bottom.
The traditional wear helped prevent the unwanted pressure from his usually-worn pants. Every injury could pass as a random battle injury, considering he fought with his legs, except for his groin.
He remembered the vomiting when he first saw the area covered with blood. There had been so much blood. Touching the skin, having to do that all over again, and trying to survive every ounce of pain made Sanji rethink all his choices.
He had been thinking about his decisions a lot lately. Going back in time and trying to find out where it all went wrong. Was it something he said? Did he give an impression of being desperate? What exactly was it that gave them the idea?
Even then, he couldn’t help but think of this as his fault. His fault for not heeding to his crew’s concerns. Not listening to Luffy and going off by himself. They warned him multiple times, but he was too naive. It was his fault for not noticing Nami’s and Robin’s discomfort whenever he was over the moon for them.
It was his fault.
The thought ran like a scratched tape inside his mind, repeating over and over and over. The door to the large room slid open, and he gave a warm smile to everyone inside. They greeted him with shouts and laughter.
Take a step forward, smile, wave now. Not like that. Laugh more brightly. Shout Nami’s and Robin’s names. Be louder. Yes. Be yourself, Sanji.
It never mattered to him that being himself felt like he was suffocating inside his own body. As if that strong grip was back on his throat, choking him, depriving him of much-needed oxygen. He had begged, screamed, and yelled at them to stop. When they had enough of his poorly aimed kicks, those hands were there to pin them to the cold ground. Always ready to grip too tightly, breaking his porcelain skin and staining it with red instead. Words mattered less to them, so his pleas were left ignored. No one paid heed to his clenched teeth, nor that he was crying when they-
“We’re going to have a party! A huge feast and the entire country should be invited, right Momo? Piles and piles of meat and food so we can celebrate properly like Pirates. And also- fireworks! Lots and lots of sparks. We’re having so much fun tonight!”
Sanji blinked, his breathing slowing down as he tuned in to listen to his surroundings instead. He had sat down on the floor and realized a bit too late that standing up wouldn’t be as easy. Something as easy as standing up spent goosebumps all over his body. He hoped no one noticed his small slip-up.
The entire room was filled with people. Law and his crew were mingling together with his crew. Kid was sitting beside the door, scoffing as he sipped his drink. The hard glare danced across the room, and Sanji turned his head before the redhead could fix his hateful look on him. He couldn’t look anyone in the eyes again. His gaze was always on something unimportant, looking past them as he made small talk.
He needed to fix this behavior too. As soon as he’s back at his ship, there will be time to process everything. He’ll get over this too, just like always. Compared to Whole Cake Island, this was nothing. He had functioned back then like a well-oiled machine, and he’ll do it again.
Sanji focused back on the room. He looked for the green hair amongst the crowd as he leaned back. He found him almost immediately, sitting with bottles of sake, his green hair standing out amongst the sea of black, red, and blond heads.
Zoro looked so carefree as if the man wasn’t unconscious for six days straight. He watched him tipping back his head and taking another gulp of sake, smiling at the open display. A single genuine smile reserved for Zoro, because he was sentimental like that. Even in pain, he couldn’t forget just what Zoro was to him. It was impossible to look at him and not feel a single thing. Sanji loved him too much and knew that his feelings were mutual. It was enough to last a lifetime that someone had loved him back.
Zoro caught his staring, and Sanji smiled back, tilting his head. His fringes hid the unshed tears threatening to spill over. He was a fool for wanting anything remotely as close as affection from Zoro now. He had betrayed his love, just because he was too weak. Too soft at heart that led to this.
He’s never going to be forgiven, but that could be a thought for later. Right now, he was loving the warmth spreading through his battered soul as Zoro made his way towards him. Sanji patted the floor next to him as the man stood in front of him. He looked up as Zoro fixed his lone eye on him. He twitched in discomfort, ready for a remark coming his way. Zoro opened his mouth and Sanji held his breath, already thinking of the comeback.
“Tired already, shitty cook?” Zoro spoke, grinning at him. Sanji blinked at him, remembering to snap back if he wanted this to work. The question lingered in his head though. Was he looking tired? Was it the dark circles or the limp in his walk?
“Oh yes, I’m tired of your bullshit already,” he said, crossing his arms as he looked away in disappointment, “go bother someone else.”
He heard him sigh and then Zoro continued to go against his wish. The man sat next to him in silence. Sanji watched him from the corner of his eye, alert to his movements. He didn’t want another fight with him when the fatigue weighed him down like tons of bricks. Sitting down felt more like he’d topple under the pressure and sleep right on the floor.
“Where were you? I went looking for you but Chopper wouldn’t let me. Kept mumbling about me getting lost, don’t know what’s that about.'' Zoro spoke, his gaze fixed in front of him.
“In the kitchen. The staff had too much on their hands, so I helped. Made soup. I think there’s some left though. The sick need it, so you’ll get your share soon.” Sanji answered.
“ So back to your shitty cooking already,” Zoro spoke with a bitter tone. “Is spending time with me- with us- that much of a sore spot for you?”
Sanji still, unable to come up with a quick comeback. Zoro had noticed- no, Sanji had been caught. He had been careless. His absence had raised questions too. There has to be a way to counter this.
Sanji leaned towards him, and gently bumped his shoulder, not pushing too much of himself on him.
“It's not like that. I’ve been busy with the kitchens lately, considering they’re all starved. It's my job.” he spoke softly, hating the way his body shivered against the touch.
Zoro looked at him, piercing him with one of his hard looks, and then the next second, it softened. Sanji smiled at that open display of sudden affection, and it filled him with doubt at the same time. He was running away from his sins, and Zoro could make him lose this game of tug of war.
His inner turmoil went unnoticed, hidden like his silent voice. Zoro kept drinking from his bottle, chatting with him idly as Sanji gave small remarks now and then. Like this, he could pretend that nothing was wrong between now and then. Sanji hadn’t gone and gotten their love sullied by unwanted hands, and all his smiles were genuine.
The longer he kept sitting, the more he noticed his body getting cold and hot at the same time. The lethargy returned along with the demand to just drop the act and lay down. He could rest until it was time to cook for the feast. Zoro kept sitting by his side, and Sanji decided to save his energy by having his company. They bickered, but his comments were always a second too late. Talking drained him, but he kept doing it.
“Zoro? We’re having a drinking contest! You wanna come? And oh- Sanji! Are you free? I want-” Luffy called out to them, tuning out his loud shouting as he fixed his eyes on Zoro instead.
The man’s sole eye was wide open, and Sanji knew he was already thinking of leaving him. Absently, he moved his hand closer to Zoro’s hand. His pinky finger was just hovering over his sprayed fingers before the hand suddenly pulled away.
The warmth was gone the next second. He felt his heart shattering into a million pieces at the small gesture. He was getting emotional over little things. Zoro simply hadn’t noticed the act.
The man had got up from the floor, rubbing his head absently.
“I’ll see you around, Cook. Don’t stay in the kitchen tonight, we’re celebrating.” Zoro spoke before he leaned down again, closing on him until they were face to face.
His hands started clamming up at action, holding his breath. He closed his eyes, refusing to see unwanted memories surface. He felt the lips on his cheek, leaving a feather-light kiss. Something innocent and loving. Not cruel. Not demanding.
Sanji opened his eyes as the man shifted. He may have heard someone snicker but ignored it. Zoro was gone by the time he felt the emotions. The want, the screaming neediness, and the demand for comfort. Zoro was moving away, far away from him, leaving him again.
Sanji wanted to call him back, but the words were stuck to the tip of his tongue. Zoro didn’t turn back either. He was left sitting in the corner of the room. Unwanted. Like a piece of trash.
You’re useless. Useless to everyone. So unwanted.
They’re happy. Sanji saw them laughing.
Look at them, they don’t need you. Sanji saw them sitting together, content with each other’s company.
You’re filthy. You’ll make them dirty too. Sanji looked down and saw the bandages peeking from the hem of his kimono. With hurried hands, he pushed the fabric down and hid his feet too.
Unwanted, useless, and disgusting.
Suddenly, he could feel the wetness of bandages, soaking with blood and other things. They were due for a change, and he needed to get up again. But his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He was shivering lightly. It was just the beginning and I knew if he didn’t get out of here soon, things would go wrong. His chest heaved as the panic began to settle.
He ignored the burst of pain in his legs and groin as he stood up. Black spots covered his vision but with a few blinks, it all went away. Each step was ready to make him fall to the ground. He was fighting the entire world as he creaked through the room. Some steps were small and the rest were bold. He wanted to get out of here.
His hands gripped the handle and the door slid open. No one called his name as everyone was too busy hyping up the drinking contest. Zoro was sitting with his back to him. His opponent was Yamato.
The door slid closed quietly. Sanji remained standing for a while, feeling the wetness drip down his face. Tears. Feelings. He was alive for now. Feelings meant being human enough.
He took his next steps, starting his long walk towards the empty restrooms, but his journey felt like he was surfing through waves. Everything was too blurry, unable to tell if he was crying or was just sweating.
He reached the restroom somehow, locked it firmly, and untied the kimono. The fabric fell onto the floor, and he looked down.
The clumsily tied bandage on the groin filled him with embarrassment again, but more than that… It was soaked.
Blood had dripped down to his legs. Sanji felt a bit dizzy just looking at it, supporting himself by leaning on the wall. He couldn’t even tell what was causing this. He wasn’t a doctor, far from it.
He hadn’t let anyone take a look at his injuries either. He had lied to both Chopper and Law, making them give up when they saw his bandages, convincing them. They wanted to help him, but doing it himself at least granted him some dignity.
But the blood loss was now becoming a problem. His shivering hadn’t stopped, and neither were his hands cooperating. He’s going to be late to the preparations if the blood keeps soaking through.
He slid down the wall and gripped his hair tightly. The teeth between his lips bit down in frustration. They wobbled horribly with each labored breath, as he stared down at the mess between his legs.
The first son wrecked his body, making his throat close up painfully. That was all it needed for the flood of emotions. The tears were hot, dripping down his nose and wetting the bandages even more. He was sobbing and howling in pain, letting himself cry as he undid the bandages.
His hands knocked against the wounds as they shook uncontrollably. The thick drops of blood smeared the floor, and he wiped them away hurriedly. There must be no proof.
That room back in Onigashima had been destroyed. Sanji made sure that the news was correct. The castle had been damaged, and that room had been a part of its destruction. No evidence remained. No one would believe him either, so what was the point?
He doubted if it was even worth it. It would only bring more pain to his already broken spirit. So with muffled cries, he got back to work.
Sanji ignored the minor detail that even his body had enough. It had finally reached its limit. Two days were too long to hold it in and bear it.
His delicate scars were begging to be treated by some gentle hands again.