Chapter Text
Sanji tried to focus on the last lesson of the day, mentally reciting the names of fish species to calm his mind. He often did this—listing various ingredients not only to memorize them better but also to keep his thoughts occupied.
The after-school French club he led was his favorite part of the week. The kids were ambitious, asked many questions, and he could show off his passion for the language, culture, and even cuisine, discussing the essential art of French cooking.
But today, he wanted to wrap it up as quickly as possible.
“Focus, damn it, how old are you, five?” he scolded himself mentally, writing exercise topics on the board.
The students were diligently taking notes, but he felt his concentration slipping with every passing moment. When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the lesson, Sanji sighed with relief.
“I can finally go home,” he thought, packing his notes into his briefcase.
Suddenly, he froze. “If Zoro shows up in the hallway before I leave the school… No, I can’t let that happen. I need to escape before we run into each other.”
At this hour, there were hardly any teachers left in the school, so there was a good chance they’d be alone.
Especially since the kids’ training sessions took place at the same time as his French club.
If they met, they’d be alone, and that meant one thing—he’d have to bring up the subject of this morning’s kiss.
What was he supposed to say?
“Listen, it was amazing, but we can’t do it again, even though I really want to”?
Since when did he admit he wanted to do it again? Pathetic.
He couldn’t let it come to that. He will pretend that they couldn't find each other, so he didn’t have a chance to talk. He wasn’t running away.
“I’m a coward. But right now, I’d rather be a coward than look like an idiot in front of him,” he thought.
When the last student thanked him and left, Sanji tucked his briefcase under his arm and hurried toward the school’s exit.
He’d never been so glad to have taken all his things with him.
The hallways were emptying, students rushing home, and he felt like a fugitive.
“Just don’t run into him. Please. I need more time.”
On his way, he bumped into Miss Russo, the biology teacher, who waved at him with a smile, holding a stack of notebooks.
“Mr. Vinsmoke!” she called, jogging closer. “I wanted to ask about the event on Friday we were supposed to discuss…”
Sanji paused for a moment, but his mind was already plotting an escape. “Not now, I don’t have time. Zoro could be anywhere.” he thinks.
“I’m sorry, Miss Russo, but I’m really in a hurry. I agree to whatever you come up with,” he replied politely, with a slight bow and the charming smile that worked on women. “I promise we’ll talk tomorrow. Goodbye!”
Without waiting for a response, he quickened his pace, practically running down the stairs.
Miss Russo blinked in surprise but shrugged and walked away. Sanji stepped out of the school, feeling relief as the fresh air hit his face.
“I made it. I’m free.” But in his mind, he cursed himself: “Coward. Loser. Coward. Fugitive. Coward.”
This was the second time he’d avoided a confrontation with Zoro, and the second time he felt bad about it.
He hurried toward his apartment, a long walk from the school. He always walked, as it calmed him down.
The streets buzzed with evening activity—kids on bikes heading to dinner, mothers with groceries, fathers returning from work—but he moved as if in a trance, avoiding eye contact, cutting through the air like an arrow.When he reached his building, he climbed the stairs to the second floor and opened the door to his modest apartment.
He was greeted by the familiar, soothing scent of fresh herbs—basil, thyme, and mint—that always lingered in the air.
The apartment was small but elegantly furnished, reflecting his personality.
The living room merged with the kitchen: on the left, a large, comfortable navy-blue sofa, next to a desk with a lamp and a stack of cookbooks filled with bookmarks and notes on new recipe variations.
The centerpiece of the living room was a large painting of a stormy sea.
His kingdom, however, was the kitchen—cozy, with wooden cabinets and a massive fridge for such a small space.
Sanji adjusted the fresh flowers in a vase on the dining table, which was really just a small table with two chairs against the wall, perfect for solo meals or a dinner for two—though he hadn’t had the chance to use it that way in a long time.
The living room led to a tiny bedroom: a simple bed with white linens, a dresser for clothes, and a mirror where he checked daily to ensure his tie was perfect.
Kingdom of his apartment was a kitchen but a hidden gem was the small balcony off the living room, where Sanji grew herbs in pots - all carefully watered and trimmed.
The balcony overlooked a quiet street, and the view of the trees always calmed him. He ended each day with a final cigarette, gazing at the city where the sea shimmered on the horizon.Sanji tossed his briefcase into a corner of the living room, ignoring the mess—unusual for him—and sighed deeply.
“I need to clear my head, or I’ll go crazy.”
He went to the bedroom, shed his jacket and shirt, and put on athletic wear that highlighted his slim but fit physique.
Unlike Zoro, he avoided the gym but ran regularly to stay in shape.
He put a pack of cigarettes in his hoodie, which he had brought with him in case it got windy. Looking in the mirror, he adjusted his bangs, though honestly, he didn’t want to meet his own gaze. His slightly curled eyebrows glared at him. He was angry at himself.He left the apartment, heading toward the beach—his favorite place. The route took him through housing estates, a park, and then down to the sea.
When he reached the sand, he took off his shoes and ran barefoot, feeling the waves lap at his feet. The wind tousled his hair, and the sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange.
“Why does this affect me so much? Zoro… that idiot. He’s always annoyed me, but it’s not like I hated him. Sometimes I said that in my head, but I never really meant it. What do I suddenly see in him? His snarky comments, that tracksuit, those stupid earrings. I want to feel his hands on me again. Damn it, what’s wrong with me? Maybe it’s just tension, loneliness. I haven’t been with anyone in a long time—embarrassing to admit. It's not that he never tried, but surprisingly, the ladies weren't as interested in him as he thought they would be.
But why Zoro? That one moment when he looked at me, and my knees buckled, like he saw something more in me, like he could figure me out with a single glance. Maybe that’s why his jabs are so spot-on? Because he actually sees me.”
He ran faster, as if he could outrun his thoughts. His pace quickened, feeling like he was losing his mind.
“If I see him, I’ll act like nothing happened. Even though I don’t want to pretend. But what if he brings it up? What do I say? ‘Hey, it was nice, but let’s forget it’? That’s a lie. I want a repeat. But if he doesn’t, how fast can I move on? Has our relationship changed for good? Sanji, get a grip!”
Suddenly, he stopped, shouted, and kicked the water, splashing it around. He jumped in the waves, trying to vent his emotions. He grabbed his head, clutching his hair. Why was he so stupid? Why was he running? Why were his heart and mind at war?
“Besides, he kissed me first, didn’t he? He should bring it up, right? Exactly! Let him explain himself! The fact that I challenged him and pulled him close doesn’t mean anything… Argh… Who am I kidding? I’m looking for excuses. I’m just as guilty of this.”
After an hour of running, exhausted and sweaty, Sanji slowed down, leaving the beach for the promenade. He bought a bottle of water at a nearby shop and took a swig, wiping sweat from his forehead. Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice.
“Please, Carl, can you give these keys to Davis tomorrow?”
Sanji froze. It was Zoro. His heart leapt to his throat, and he nearly dropped the water. He instinctively scanned his surroundings, panic washing over him like a wave.
“No, not now! Not here!”
He spotted a large rock by the shore, covered in seaweed, and without thinking, dove behind it, hiding in its shadow. He pressed his back against the cold stone, breathing heavily.
“What am I doing? Hiding like a kid? But I can’t… I’m not ready.”
He cautiously peeked out from behind the rock, staying low. At the fish shop—a small building with a “Fresh Fish” sign—stood Zoro in a leather jacket, sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular arms.
The owner, an older man in rubber boots and worn fishing pants, was locking the door, shaking his head.
“Mr. Roronoa, what’s in it for me?” the owner said, chuckling more as a joke than expecting anything.
“When I sail out in two weeks, I’ll bring you some shrimp. How’s that?” Zoro laughed warmly, and Sanji couldn’t help but smile to himself.
“Give me those keys,” Carl said. “Davis has been complaining for a week that you must’ve gotten lost five times since you can’t get these keys to him.”
“Mhm,” Zoro mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I’ve had a lot on my mind and forgot I had them. I’ll need them again in two weeks anyway,” he grinned.
“Gotta run, I’ve got training. Thanks, Carl!” he said, walking off as Carl locked up the shop.
Sanji ducked back behind the rock, hoping Zoro hadn’t seen him.
“Great. First, you avoid him, and now you’re a stalker?” he thought.
So, Zoro does sail, like Miss Russo mentioned. He also takes keys from Davis for the boats, so they probably share them often.
Sanji peeked out again as Zoro reached the parking lot by the shop.
There stood his motorcycle—a massive, black beast that always irritated Sanji with its roar and exhaust fumes.
Zoro put on his helmet, swung his leg over the seat with ease, and started the engine.
The loud rumble filled the air, and Sanji felt his annoyance flare up again.
“That smoke-belching monster polluting the beach air.”
But before he could curse under his breath, Zoro revved the engine, and the bike shot forward, kicking up a cascade of sand as it sped toward the road.
Zoro’s figure—leaning forward, arms tensed, the wind whipping the edges of his jacket—looked… masculine.
Incredibly masculine.
Sanji blinked, caught off guard by the shift in perspective.
He’d always hated that machine, but now?
It seemed like an extension of Zoro’s wild, untamed energy.
“How is this possible? Just a moment ago, I despised that junk, and now… Damn, it looks like something out of a poster.”
He realized Zoro always said he was tired from training late. He tried to recall what sport it was—kendo? Once, he’d tripped over Zoro’s three shinai, a kendo swordas, in the teacher's room, and it sparked a huge argument.
Zoro called him clumsy prince, and he shot back that Zoro should keep his gear in the locker room, not by the desks.
He started recalling their countless petty arguments and banter.
Though they rarely saw each other, it was hard to imagine the school without it.
Without those sparking glances, that adrenaline now mixed with something deeper.
Sometimes, he just wanted those jabs, that thrill. He wanted someone to challenge him, to match him. Winning or losing their battles was already part of his routine. Could it ever end?
“Maybe it was always more than just irritation? Maybe those jabs were our way of… flirting? No, that’s crazy. It’d be the worst flirt in history.”
He pulled his hood over his head, tightening the drawstrings until only a narrow slit for his eyes remained.
He wondered if Zoro was thinking about him too. Did he feel this as deeply?
His nonchalant attitude during the conversation with Carl made it seem like it was no big deal… Had he already forgotten?
But he flirted with him today, didn’t he? He must remember.
Maybe to him, it was just a casual kiss that meant nothing. But that look, when he pulled back for a moment, staring with such determination. He silenced him, but his eyes spoke… For that one moment, Sanji felt Zoro truly desired him. Was he imagining it?
“Enough. I have to talk to him tomorrow. I have to. Otherwise, I’ll not only drive myself crazy, but avoiding him forever might not be possible.”
Sanji didn’t want to be the one to bring it up first. But he decided he’d see how things played out when he met Zoro tomorrow. If he pretends it's nothing, Sanji will do the same. If he senses even the slightest chance that Zoro isn't indifferent to this feeling... then maybe... maybe then he'll admit for a moment that he wants to try something. He didn’t want to lose to him, even in something like this.
The worst thing that could happen is Zoro mocking him, saying he's pathetic for thinking that kiss really meant something.
With that thought, he went to bed, trying to fall asleep. Tomorrow, everything would become clear. Tomorrow we will find out who will win their biggest duel yet.