Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

On the very long list of things Sanji hates about being the failed prince of Germa an item near the top is how he’s periodically forced into taking part in a dog and pony show where they pretend to be one big happy family to impress potential political allies. It’s bad enough that he’s grown up knowing his relatives think he’s useless at best and a target at worst, but having to act like the opposite is true is a special kind of hell.

Case in point, the fleet has been travelling on the Grand Line for the past several weeks, having been hired into the service of some middling King whose country is slowly ravaging itself through a civil war, and tonight they’re hosting said King at a banquet to celebrate the upcoming launch of Germa’s might on the unsuspecting revolutionaries. Not wanting to allow any kind of perceived weakness, Vinsmoke Judge has summoned all five of his children to take their places at the head table and present a united front.

Seated at the very end of said table, Sanji stares moodily down at his plate as he spears a bunch of green beans on his fork. He hasn’t spoken to a soul since sitting down - hardly surprising since he has Yonji on his right and empty air to his left - and it’s been a struggle not to keep glancing at the clock to see if it’s late enough to excuse himself yet. 

A burst of laughter from further down the table momentarily draws his attention since he’s all too familiar with Niji’s nasty guffaw. It’s the one he uses when he’s either doing something particularly cruel or recounting having done so, and it’s all Sanji can do not to flinch at the sound. 

For once the laugh isn’t a result of something Niji’s done to him, however, and he finds his ears perking up almost against his will as his brother slaps the table in front of him with every sign of enjoyment.

“You should have seen it, Father,” Niji is saying now. “We only caught a glimpse of its fins and tail, but from the size of it I’d say it was bigger than any fish I’d ever hunted before. It’s too bad we got called away before we could catch it.”

“I think you mean it was too bad you lost one of the new prototype spears trying to get it.” Judge replies, and Sanji feels a brief flash of satisfaction at hearing one of his brothers being forced to face the old bastard’s ire for once.

Not that Niji cares, of course. He’s as immune to feeling embarrassment as he is to anything else, and shrugs Judge’s reprimand off as if it had never come at all. “I’m positive I hit the thing. If we’d had some time to search the water for it, we probably would have found it and the spear.”

“You had more important things to be doing,” Judge says tersely. “My orders far outweigh your desire to hunt some stupid animal.”

“I know that,” Niji retorts. “Hence why I left instead of continuing to go after it. It’s a pity, though. I would have liked to see it up close. From where we were the damn thing looked almost as green as Yonji’s hair.”

“Not quite,” Yonji pipes up. “I’d say it was a little paler. Still, I didn’t know fish could get that big or be that colour.”

Safely out of sight, Sanji rolls his eyes where no one can see him. Trust his idiot brothers to encounter an animal they’d never seen before and immediately try to kill it. Idly, he finds himself hoping that Niji had in fact missed with his attack, and whatever fish he’d been aiming for had gotten away.

It’s a small comfort, but he likes to imagine happy endings when not faced with any direct evidence to the contrary.

*****

The next morning dawns bright and clear, but, most importantly of all, signals the departure of his siblings on a scouting mission to the country they’ve been hired to assist. By all accounts they should be gone for a while, which will give Sanji a little breathing room.

He tends to stick to his personal chambers when most or all of his family are residing on Germa’s flagship. Over the years he’s found himself on the receiving end of his brothers’ fists many times because they were bored and had nothing better to do, so avoiding them is his preferred way of managing their interactions. Besides, Judge prefers for him to be as close to invisible as possible.

Today, however, his brothers and sister are gone, and Judge himself will be holed up in his war room, listening to their information as it comes in. That means no one will be paying him any attention and he should be free to move about as he pleases.

Well, as free as he ever is, he supposes. What would most please him would be to go spend time in the kitchens, but he’s learned his lesson well where that one is concerned, and isn’t so stupid as to head down there when anyone would be awake to see him do it. Maybe in the evening, though. Provided his siblings don’t make any unexpected, early returns.

The day is lovely, however, with the weather being far nicer than what they tend to get in the North Blue. Not wanting to waste such a golden opportunity, Sanji slips out of the castle once he’s certain nobody is watching him, and hikes out to one of his favourite spots on the ship.

It’s a secluded area at the far end of the snail, the place so overgrown with foliage that it has the appearance of an actual cove, as opposed to a mechanized ship. It also butts up right against the water, meaning he can go for a swim if he so chooses.

His hands hovering above his pockets, Sanji picks his way carefully along the path, even though at this point he could probably make the trip while wearing a blindfold. This isn’t an area his brothers would ever care to frequent, so he’s spent a lot of time here over the years.

And perhaps it’s because of this fact that he immediately notices something is amiss when he reaches the cove. He can’t quite see it yet, but there’s an unfamiliar rattling sound ringing out in the distance, accompanied by the sound of splashing.

Curious, but not overly worried, Sanji brushes a swath of tree branches aside and emerges out of the forest, already looking around for the source of the noise.

It’s coming from an old storm drain, he realizes. It’s one of the few active parts of the castle that are visible down here, and Sanji usually stays away from it so as to better maintain the mirage that he's anywhere other than Germa. Today, however, he heads right for it, walking along the - for lack of a better word - shoreline until it’s within sight.

He blinks when the drain comes into view, and then his stomach lurches as it dawns on him what he’s looking at. The storm drain is lined with bars to prevent large animals from crawling in or out of it, and caught between two of them is a three pronged trident that’s liberally slicked with blood. Slicked that is because two of the prongs are impaled on a massive emerald green fishtail visible where the awkward angle has dragged it up out of the water while the rest of the body remains submerged.

At first Sanji assumes the creature is dead and the carcass has merely washed up on shore, probably helped along by the storm they’d passed through the night before. Then the thing moves , the bloody, shredded fins going taught and yanking before growing still again.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he says before he can help it. Grateful that neither Judge nor his brothers are around to hear this expression of sympathy, he bites absently at his bottom lip while he considers what to do.

He can’t just leave it like this, of that much he’s certain. His family’s reaction be damned, he hasn’t survived twenty-one years in this hellhole to let them actually beat his principals out of him, and the animal is clearly suffering. Even if the only thing he can do is put it out of its misery, that would still be better than this.

Having said that, he needs to be cautious in his approach. The animal’s thrashing has churned up the water around it, raising a cloud of silt that obscures the rest of its body from view. Sheer size alone is enough to leave him wary, though, and if it’s a predator it could likely just as easily rip off his arm.

There’s a small ledge lining the outside of the castle, barely wide enough for him to step on if he’s careful. Luckily, Sanji’s balance is second to none, meaning he’s able to carefully shuffle along it as he makes his way to the grate.

He has no real plan in mind, and nothing on hand to defend himself with if the animal attacks, but he figures if he can untangle the trident from the bars then he can at least set the thing free. Maybe he can even get the trident out if he’s lucky.

“Alright now, easy does it,” he murmurs as he draws nearer, stretching out his left arm while he uses his right to maintain a hold on the castle wall. “This is probably going to hurt, but I promise you’ll feel better once you’re not caught up on this nasty old grate, okay? So you just let me unhook you and don’t bite my arm off, and we can both call this a win.”

The creature stills, almost as if it can both hear and understand the words. Choosing to see this as a good sign, Sanji takes a deep breath and reaches out to gently grasp the hilt of the trident, planning to slide it out from between the bars slowly yet surely.

He’s not expecting for the animal to surge up out of the water then, sending a rush of salty liquid cascading all over him, and he’s certainly not expecting for a very human hand to clamp around his wrist and yank his arm away.

Sanji’s fight, flight, and freeze instincts kick in, and unfortunately opt to go with the latter. His entire body locks up, such that he’s amazed he doesn’t go toppling into the water, and he finds himself gaping at a muscular, one-eyed man with a shock of green hair covering his head and a massive scar stretching diagonally across his chest.

A few seconds pass where they stay exactly as they are - Sanji precariously balanced on the lip of the storm drain with his forearm gripped by a tanned hand liberally nicked with scars - and then reality catches up.

“ Motherfuckingsonofabitch !”

Shrieking the words out in one long, constant stream, Sanji rears back until he hits the castle wall, yanking his hand free from the goddamned merman’s grip, such that the sudden absence of force also sends his companion careening back into the water.

He doesn’t think he’s imagining the harsh grunt of pain, muffled by the water though it is, and he hears the awful screech of metal on metal when the movement of the pinned merman’s body drags the trident against the bars with a discordant hum.

“Oi oi oi! Stop that! Stop moving!” Sanji barks, watching, horrified as streams of bright red blood leak out from around the impaled prongs, further adding to the mess already covering the water. “You’re making it worse, you idiot. Hold still and let me help you.”

The movement stops and the water calms somewhat, only rippling again when the merman lifts his torso back out, twisting to look up at Sanji as best as the awkward angle will allow.

He doesn’t look scared, or even particularly upset, that’s the first thing Sanji notices. Instead, his expression can best be described as annoyed, or perhaps ‘mildly put out’. Although, his sole eye does narrow suspiciously when Sanji’s hand strays back towards the trident.

“Okay, look,” Sanji says then. “Not being particularly well versed in mermaid lore, I have no idea if you can understand me, but if you can, I am trying to help you. Or would you rather die pinned to this stupid castle wall like a worm on a hook?”

The merman still doesn’t say anything, but nor does he move to attack or otherwise run Sanji off, so he’s going to take that as an acceptance of his offered assistance. Nodding resolutely, he rolls his shoulders a couple of times and then stretches his hand out yet again.

The merman hisses sharply when he curls his fingers around the trident, but schools his features into something akin to noble indifference when Sanji shoots a worried glance his way. Snorting at the show of bravado, he returns to the task at hand, sliding the trident slowly out from between the bars, ever mindful of the heavy tail that’s still connected to the thing.

“You’re a big fella, aren’t you?” He remarks, shifting his right hand away from the stone wall to help him grip the appendage as he gently lowers the whole mess into the water. “I’m almost sorry you’re not an actual fish because I can only imagine the meal I could make out of you.”

No recognition flashes in the merman’s eye at his words, further cementing the thought that he has no idea what Sanji’s saying. On the other hand, that might be because all his attention is focused on his tail and shredded fins.

“I feel like I owe you an apology for this,” Sanji murmurs, a swath of guilt running through him as he examines the bloody mess. “It was my asshole brothers who did this to you, so I’m sorry about that.”

“Still,” he adds, clapping his hands together with an air of forced cheer. “There’s nothing that can be done about what’s already happened, so it’s better to focus on the best way to help you out going forward. I wonder if I can find something to pack around the wounds before we get the trident out.”

The merman gives him a blank stare, his face impassive, and then calmly leans over and yanks the trident out of his body.

“What in the fuck ?!” Sanji demands, watching with no small amount of horror as blood starts flowing freely from the now open holes in the merman’s tail, turning the water red around him. “Are you insane ? Do you actively want to die ? Oh my god, I don’t even know what to try and staunch that with. You’re going to bleed out right in front of me, you stupid oaf.”

Ignoring him, the merman flicks his ravaged tail back and forth a few times, as if testing it out, and then dives out of sight. Sanji watches the spot where he’d gone under until both the ripples and the blood trail fade, and then he blinks.

“Seriously?” He asks the empty air. “That’s it - not even a thank you?”

Apparently so it would seem. Sanji stays where he is for several more minutes, waiting to see if the merman will reappear, but the water remains annoyingly silent. Nothing new rises out of it, and eventually he has to admit to himself that the creature is gone.

“Well, I guess I can’t really blame you for wanting to get the hell out of here,” he mutters, still feeling oddly bereft as makes his way back to the proper shoreline. “Crap knows I’d take off if ever given the opportunity.”

He spots something glinting out of the corner of his eye, belatedly realizing it’s the damn trident when he turns to look. Whether intentionally or not, the merman had launched it out of the water when he’d thrown it away, and now it’s resting among a pile of rocks, drops of blood still coating the prongs.

Scowling, Sanji curls a hand around the hilt and lifts it up. It’s a heavy thing, the weight probably having given the merman as much trouble as anything else, and he distantly recalls Judge’s irritation at Niji having lost it.

Seeing no point in doing either of them any favours - he’s long lost the illusion of ever being able to get himself in their good graces - Sanji hauls back his arm and flings the thing as far into the ocean as he can, watching with a small sense of satisfaction as it disappears into the water.

“And good riddance,” he says. “At least that one won’t be able to hurt anyone else.”

*****

His siblings don’t return that evening, which is a blessing in and of itself, but Judge is still around. As much as Sanji would like to slip into the kitchens during the night, he knows he has to be careful so as long as any of his family are on the ship, so he eats in his room like usual and tells himself that at least he should be left to his own devices for the foreseeable future.

Unsurprisingly when faced with a night of no distractions, Sanji finds his mind drifting to the day’s events and the injured merman. Having always enjoyed fantastical stories as a child (much to Judge’s dismay) he’d never actually believed such creatures were real. Now he desperately wants to know more.

“What a pity that won’t be happening,” he mumbles aloud, letting his chin rest in the palm of his hand as he thinks about the missed opportunity. The merman is no doubt long gone, hopefully swimming as far from the Germa ship as possible in light of its injuries.

Sighing, he goes to take a shower before bed.

*****

The following morning is much the same as the previous, and Sanji wakes with a burning curiosity to revisit the cove. He doesn’t always go there two days in a row since falling into repetitive patterns can bring unwanted attention, but without his siblings around it should be safe.

“Granted, it’s not like there’s going to be anything worth seeing,” he tells himself as he once again traverses the path out. “You know full well it’s going to be the same as it always is. Yesterday was nothing but a fluke.”

An insane fluke to be sure, but a fluke nonetheless.

As expected, aside from some slightly disturbed plant life over which Sanji had climbed in his attempt to reach the storm drain, the place looks exactly like it normally does. There’s certainly no sign of the merman.

Annoyed at both himself and the universe in general, Sanji sits down on a large flat rock with a huff. Crossing his legs under him, he digs around in his pocket until he finds the latest package of cigarettes that he’s stolen from one of the supply rooms, takes one out, and casually lights it.

Leaning back in his spot so that the sunlight can warm his face, he blows out a steady stream of smoke, basking in the smell of the nicotine. Of all the habits he’s cultivated over the years, this may actually be the one Judge hates the most, so it always feels like a particularly special form of rebellion.

Snorting at that, Sanji huffs out a quiet laugh at his own ridiculousness and takes another drag from the cigarette. Clearly today isn’t going to be as exciting as yesterday, but it still pales in comparison to the miserable experience it could be under different circumstances.

He sits like that for a while, until his legs start cramping. For a moment he considers getting up and starting some stretching exercises, but instead he decides to relax a little longer. Hiking his feet up, he slips off his socks and shoes, setting them down carefully behind him, and rolls his pants up to his knees.

Despite being straight from the ocean, the water is comfortably warm as he dips his feet in, lapping faintly around his calves as he swings them back and forth. Wriggling his toes appreciatively, he allows himself another laugh, more than willing to enjoy this rare moment of peace.

He’s idly weighing the pros and cons of going for a real swim when he spots movement in the water. Curious because it’s coming from over by the storm drain, he draws his feet up, resting them on the sun warmed rock he’s sitting on and turning to look at the spot dead on.

At first he thinks it might be his imagination playing tricks on him. For several long moments the water does nothing under his watchful eye, and he’s just about to give up and start calling himself an idiot when a splash rises up and hits the section of the bars that aren’t submerged in water.

“What the hell?” He starts, shifting into a crouch in case he has to get up and out of his spot quickly.

A fountain of water erupts across from him, droplets spraying the surrounding area as the merman from yesterday surges upwards. Sanji’s jaw drops as he’s greeted with the view of the man’s flawless back, the muscles rippling beneath his skin as he hooks one arm over a couple of craggy rocks and brings the other up to punch furiously at the stonework of the castle walls.

Confused, Sanji watches as the merman punches the wall twice more in obvious frustration, a low growl escaping his mouth at the same time. Meanwhile, the bulk of his tail is out of sight in the water, but the stiff way he’s holding himself makes it clear he’s in pain.

A small voice in the back of Sanji’s head is telling him to get the hell out of here, or to at least get back on the real shore out of reach, but the rest of him is oddly unconcerned about being this close to a potentially deadly mythical creature. Not to mention one that’s injured and therefore might be more inclined to lash out.

Ignoring the voice entirely, Sanji leans forward until he can stick his right hand in the water, splashing it around to try and get the merman’s attention. “Oi!” He calls, splashing harder when the initial attempt goes unnoticed. 

This time the merman hears him fine, and whirls to face him. The motion forces him to give up his grip on the rocks, and he drops down under the water in a move Sanji doesn’t think is intentional. Then he pops back up again, grabbing for the rocks with the opposite hand.

“What in the world?” Sanji asks, staring at him in confusion.

The merman stares back, or more like glares, really. He’s panting harshly, not just from pain, Sanji suspects, and it’s almost as if his hold on the rocks is the only thing keeping him in place.

Because it is, Sanji realizes abruptly. Having stood up to get himself a better look, he now sees that the merman’s injured tail is tucked up tight against his body, the wounded fins trailing uselessly with the current.

“Oh my god,” Sanji murmurs, horrified. “You can’t swim away.”

Scowling at the sound of his voice, the merman says nothing, but nor does he make any attempt to go anywhere. Positive he’s right and that the injury to his tail is what’s preventing him from leaving, Sanji scrambles down off his rock.

“Can I see?” He asks, already heading for the same ledge he’d used yesterday to get him over to the storm drain. The merman’s not much further away today, so he should be reachable if Sanji’s careful. “Maybe I can help.”

The merman shifts with him to keep Sanji in his direct line of sight, hissing furiously as he gets closer.

“Woah woah,” Sanji says, holding up his hands protectively. The hiss had revealed a set of teeth that were both longer and sharper than that of a regular human’s, and he has no desire to lose a chunk of his body to them. “Take it easy, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Seemingly unconvinced, the merman hisses again, adjusting his grip on the rocks to move himself further back. Now that he’s closer, though, Sanji doesn’t miss the tired lines in his face, or the faint tremor of his arm where it’s curled around the slippery rock.

A sick feeling churns in the pit of Sanji’s gut as he watches him. “Is this what you’ve been doing all night?” He asks aloud. “Just fucking clinging to the edge of this damn ship so you don’t get swept away? You must be exhausted.”

As per usual, the merman doesn’t answer, but Sanji is starting to wonder if he can understand at least part of what he’s saying. There’s something about the way the creature keeps watching him that makes him think it’s getting more than it wants to let on.

On the other hand, it obviously doesn’t trust him - not that he can blame it - so he needs to try and figure out a way to change that. He’s not going to have any chance in hell of helping if he can’t even get near it.

Unsure of how to proceed, Sanji’s eyes fall on the storm drain, suddenly remembering his thought from the day before about how the bars are there to keep animals from getting in and out. Given the angle from which the thing exits the castle, if the merman could get himself inside, he’d at least be able to rest without having to worry about being swept away as he slept. 

“Well, it’s probably not the comfiest spot in the world, but it’s got to be better than nothing,” he says, nodding to himself. Tilting his head to the side, he critically examines the bars, trying to figure out the best direction to strike from.

Quickly convinced that it’s going to be too awkward to try and aim, perched on the tiny ledge as he is, Sanji glances down at the water in front of him. This section of the castle tapers down into a faint ramp for a few meters, meaning he can technically stand in front of the grate. He’s just going to get soaked doing it.

Oh well, no good deed goes unpunished and all that. Shooting a look at the merman, he wags an admonishing finger at him. “Do not ,” he says firmly, “try to eat me. That’d be incredibly fucking rude of you.”

Steeling himself, he leaps lightly into the water, getting instantly soaked from the waist down in the process. Mildly annoyed, but doing his best to ignore it, he turns to face the grate, balancing on one leg as he prods at the bars with his foot, wanting to get a feel for how sturdy they are.

They’re strong enough that he’s probably going to want to use both feet, he determines. One might be enough, but he’d rather just get it over and done with. Which is why, without stopping to think about what he’s doing, he dives into the water, balances briefly on both hands, and then pushes off to land a kick that snaps the entire grate right out of its frame.

“Hah!” He crows triumphantly, punching the water with one hand as he pushes the hair out of his left eye with the other. 

The grate bows inwards, the entire thing then slowly collapsing forward with an obnoxious screeching sound. It topples into the water with a heavy splash, initially landing on the ramp not far from Sanji, but then sinking into the depths instead when he pushes it away.

“That takes care of that,” Sanji says, making a show of dusting his hands off even though they’re dripping wet. He turns then, looking around for his companion.

He finds him in the same place as before, except now he’s got both arms looped over one of the slick rocks, and is watching Sanji with his chin resting on his arms, one eyebrow raised in a blatant question.

“What?” Sanji asks defensively. He gestures at the now open storm drain. “Think of it as your own private hidey-hole to rest up in. It’s clean, I promise. The sewage comes out in different areas.”

The merman’s lip curls into an approximation of a sneer, further spurring on Sanji’s belief that he understands what he’s being told. He does not, however, make any move to approach the drain.

Figuring he can’t really blame the man for being suspicious, Sanji backs out of the water, returning to the spot where he’d previously left his socks and shoes. In hindsight, it would have made more sense for him to strip down further before getting in the water, but it’s too late now.

Stripping off his waterlogged shirt, he lays it out to dry on the rock before settling down next to it. Luckily he had had the foresight to take out his cigarettes and lighter, so the pack is thankfully dry when he pulls out a fresh one.

Blowing out a cloud of smoke, he fixes his gaze on where the merman still hasn’t moved. They stare at each other as he sucks on the filter, each of them barely blinking as the stick slowly turns to ash and inevitably only the butt remains.

“This is ridiculous,” Sanji finally huffs. “I’m in a detente with a fish.”

At the sound of his voice, the merman cocks his head to the side, his forehead furrowing in confusion. Wondering why that is, Sanji almost asks as much, but he’s distracted by a sudden glint near the side of the man’s head.

He’s got earrings, Sanji slowly realizes. Three gold bands dangling down from his left ear that Sanji had failed to notice in all the excitement of the day before. 

“Those are pretty,” he says, pointing at them when the merman blinks. “Where’d you get them?”

No response, not that Sanji was really expecting one at this point. Laying back with a groan, he crosses his arms beneath his head and squints up at the sunny sky, pondering what to do. He really wants to get a look at the merman’s injured tail, but he’s smart enough to know that’s not going to happen if he can’t get the man to trust him.

Dragging one arm out from under him, he takes a fresh cigarette out of his pack and clamps it between his teeth, after which he uses the same free hand to light it. Puffing irritably at the clouds, he thinks about his next move.

There must be some way he can either coax the merman close enough to get a better look at him, or to keep him calm while Sanji moves in. He’s no medical expert, of course, but he knows there’s no way he can even begin to help without at least examining the wounds.

Sanji sits up suddenly as a thought occurs to him. The merman’s been stuck down by the rocks for an entire day, and before that he’d been pinned to the grate thanks to Niji. There’s no way he’s eaten during that time, and who knows when he’d last had a full meal prior to his run in with Germa.

He must be starving, Sanji thinks grimly. Which, when added to the obvious exhaustion, is no doubt putting additional strain on his injured body. Those are terrible conditions to be convalescing in, but that much Sanji can help with. 

Climbing to his feet, Sanji grabs his discarded shirt up off the rocks. The better part of an hour spent baking in the sun has dried it considerably, but not completely. On the other hand, he was always going to have to sneak back into the castle, regardless, so who cares about needing a quick pit stop to get changed.

Dragging the shirt down over his head, he doesn’t bother tucking it into his pants. Then he pulls on his socks and shoes, shoves his smokes back into his pocket, and glances around for his companion. Eventually he spots him among the rocks, slightly closer than he’d been before, but still well out of reach.

“I’m heading out for a bit,” he says, knowing the other man can hear him. “But I’m coming back, I promise. In the meantime,” he adds, jerking his thumb in the direction of the drain. “Why don’t you take a damn nap? You need to rest if you want to get better.”

The merman’s sole response is to curl his lip at him and sink down until he’s almost entirely submerged in the water. Rolling his eyes, Sanji turns his back on him and starts heading for the castle.

“Drama queen.”

*****

Over the years, Sanji’s become an expert at sneaking in and out of the castle, and today is no exception. Even though it’s barely past noon, he slips inside without being detected, making it safely to his rooms so he can get changed with no one being the wiser.

Once that’s taken care of, he finds himself staring into the mirror over the vanity in his chambers. He feels oddly like he should look different after the morning’s events, but it’s still the same face as always that gazes back at him.

“This is insane,” he tells his reflection. “If Judge catches you, you’ll be lucky if you don’t find yourself doing a stint in you-know-where, and it doesn’t do to even think about what he’ll do to the other one. The poor guy’ll likely spend the rest of his very short life on a lab table.”

All of which is true, Sanji knows, trying and failing to hold back a shudder. On the other hand, the merman’s going to be just as dead if he doesn’t do something. At least the first scenario only brings a chance of death and dismemberment, as opposed to a full on guarantee.

His mind made up, Sanji turns away from the mirror and exits his room. Striding resolutely down the hallway, he opts for a head on approach, and goes straight for the kitchens.

In an ideal world, he’d cook for the merman himself and present him with a meal fit for a king. Unfortunately, he can only do that under the cover of absolute darkness when no one else is around. That would make tomorrow morning the earliest he could get back to the cove and add a third day of no food to the merman’s list of problems. He’s unwilling to let that happen, meaning a different arrangement must be made.

The staff startle at his entrance, most of them stumbling over themselves to simultaneously come to attention and not have the food they’re working on be ruined. Only the head chef Celeste is brave enough to come near him.

“Your highness,” she trills, and Sanji feels a muscle twitch in his forehead as he tries not to react to the title. “What a surprise. How can I be of service?”

By wiping the expression of abject helpfulness off her face, Sanji thinks but doesn’t say aloud. He can see right through it to the barely concealed panic it’s covering, and wishes he could tell the poor woman she has nothing to be afraid of. As per usual, he finds himself missing her predecessor like some would miss a limb.

Knowing he needs to keep all of that from showing on his face, though, he schools his expression into one of cool indifference, and shoves his hands into his pockets. “I feel like eating outside today since the weather is so nice, but I also don’t want anyone coming out and bothering me. I was hoping you could do up a basket for me.”

Mentally he curses himself upon realizing that the last line was too close to a request, as opposed to an order, but he says nothing to try and claw it back.

If Celeste notices his slip up, she doesn’t say anything. She does blink a couple of times, clearly thrown by what he’s after as much as she is by his presence, but she nevertheless rallies as best she can.

“Of course,” she says, drawing herself up to her full height. “Is there anything specific you’d like me to prepare?”

Sanji pauses, thinking it over. “Something with a decent amount of meat,” he says, recalling the merman’s pointed teeth. Those things sure as hell didn’t belong to a herbivore, and other animals would probably make up the bulk of an underwater menu. “Other than that I don’t care.”

“Certainly,” Celeste replies, giving no indication she finds this any stranger than the rest of what he’s said. Instead, she bobs her head down in a quick bow. “I’ll prepare everything immediately.”

He stops himself from thanking her just in time, but the rudeness burns as he turns and goes outside to wait.

*****

The trek back out to the cove is slightly more difficult with a basket slung over one arm, and he finds himself stopping frequently, more paranoid than usual about the prospect of being followed. No one crawls out of the foliage or anything of that nature, but he still breathes a sigh of relief when he emerges out of the trees by himself.

A quick glance around the cove tells him the merman isn’t in sight, so he picks his way carefully over to the rock from this morning, settling down with his legs crossed under him and the basket resting next to his hip.

He waits a couple of minutes to see if anything will happen, and when nothing does, he slips his hand into the water in front of him, splashing it back and forth to announce his presence. “Anybody around?” He calls as the liquid drips down his fingers. “I brought you something.”

He hears an answering splash followed by an annoyed grunt, and when he looks in the appropriate direction, he doesn’t quite manage to contain his resulting snicker.

The merman’s in the storm drain. He must have been lying down when Sanji had arrived, his body safely out of sight in the portion under the water, but now he’s sitting up and blinking his lone eye tiredly.

“Got some sleep, did you? That’s good,” Sanji notes. Curling his fingers lightly around the handle of the basket, he lifts it so the merman can see it. “I didn’t mean to wake you, but I have something I think you might want.”

It occurs to him suddenly that there’s a very good chance the merman will have no idea what the hell a picnic basket is. “It’s food,” he explains, feeling awkward. “I don’t know if that means anything to you, but - holy shit, slow down or you’re going to hurt yourself!”

This last part he blurts out as the merman launches himself out of the storm drain and comes shooting across the distance between them. Sanji’s momentarily confused as to how he’s doing so with his tail dragging limply behind him, only to realize he’s dived deep enough to get his hands into the silt beneath him and is propelling himself forward that way.

“Oh, I see,” he says, more to himself than anything else. “He’s an idiot.”

Just as he’s finished speaking, the merman resurfaces, popping out of the water only a few scant inches away so that he can use the edge of the rock Sanji’s sitting on for balance. He peers avidly at the basket, clearly interested in its contents.

“You know,” Sanji remarks conversationally, flipping the lid open and beginning to withdraw items. “Technically, you’re taking a big risk right now. I could have half of Germa’s army waiting in the bushes to make a grab for you. Not that I do, of course, but I’m starting to see why my moronic brothers were able to get so close to turning you into a kebab.”

The merman ignores him in favour of eyeing the food greedily, his gaze zeroing in on a plate of onigiri of all things when Sanji sets it down on the stone. 

“Seriously?” He says, following the look. “I didn’t pack this for various reasons, but I thought for sure it’d be the fish you’d want more than anything else. Unless that’s considered offensive or something.”

Cocking his head to the side, the merman curls a little further out of the water, the sunlight glistening on the drops running down his massive shoulders as he cautiously stretches a hand out towards the onigiri. 

“Yeah, yeah, I see what you’re after,” Sanji says, nudging the plate of rice balls closer. “Go on.”

The merman doesn’t have to be told twice. There are four onigiri on the plate when he reaches it. One and a half of them are gone by the time Sanji so much as has a chance to blink, the merman’s cheeks bulging as he barely stops to chew.

“And once again I am left thinking you are nothing but a wild animal,” Sanji says, vaguely appalled at the sight. “I don’t care how hungry you are, that’s no excuse for poor manners, you barbarian.”

His words net him a weak glare from a half-lidded eye, but any sense of unease he might have felt is negated by the man’s chipmunk cheeks. Not even the pointed teeth and scars all over his body are enough to make him look especially threatening under those circumstances.

Blowing a heavy breath out his nose, Sanji scoots around a bit on the rock. Satisfied that the merman is appropriately distracted by the meal, he leans out to get a better look.

The first thing he notices is that the merman is big. If he were human they’d probably be of similar heights, but he easily outclasses Sanji in bulk. His upper half is a complete wall of muscle, and even his emerald green tail coils beneath him with every indication of powerful strength.

Or at least it does until the very end, where pale green fins the same shade as the man’s hair can be seen jutting out on either side. They’re oddly delicate looking when compared to the rest of him, thin and gossamer like, where they’re not absolutely shredded by Niji’s handiwork.

Sanji frowns at the damage, his stomach once again roiling with guilt even though he himself had nothing to do with it. Without really thinking about what he’s doing, he dips his hands into the water, curling them gently under the injured tail and carefully lifting it up for a closer look.

The tail’s heavier than it looks, not to mention slimier. Iridescent scales shimmer in the sunlight, turning an even more vibrant shade of green out of the water, as Sanji inspects the damage.

There’s one tear in each fin, and a third hole has been punched right through the meat of the tail itself. For all Niji’s myriad faults, poor aim is not one of them. He’d hit his target dead on, and god only knows what would have happened if he, Ichiji, and Yonji hadn’t been called away when they were.

Surprisingly, for all the visible damage, none of the wounds are openly bleeding anymore. Sanji doesn’t know if that’s normal or not in these circumstances, and the injuries look painful enough regardless, but at least the merman doesn’t appear to be in danger of dying from blood loss.

“They’ll heal shut on their own,” a gravelly voice says, and Sanji very nearly gives himself whiplash with how quickly he jerks his head around.

The merman stares back at him with one eyebrow raised and a chunk of sliced fish about halfway to his mouth. When Sanji just continues gaping at him, he rolls his eye and stuffs the meat into his mouth, chewing thoroughly and like nothing earth shattering has just happened.

It’s that dismissive attitude that finally shakes Sanji out of his stupor. Deeply affronted, he glares back at the merman. “You can talk ?”

The merman doesn’t even bother finishing to swallow what’s in his mouth before responding. “‘Course I can,” he mutters around his food. “I’ve got lungs and vocal chords and all that crap, don’t I?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Sanji retorts, holding up the handful of tail he’s still grasping for emphasis. “You’re half fish .”

“And you are really fucking forward,” the merman informs him. “Even for a human.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sanji demands, aggrieved.

“Well,” the merman replies, his gaze trailing pointedly over Sanji’s hands. “I don’t even know your name, but you’re down there copping a feel.”

Sanji drops the tail he’s still holding like he’s been scalded. It hits the water with a heavy splash, the sound not high enough to drown out the merman’s pained hiss.

“OW! That fucking hurt, asshole!” the merman snarls, and Sanji feels an instant swell of remorse as he watches him tuck the appendage protectively up against his body.

“Sorry,” he blurts, immediately contrite. “Shit, I didn’t mean to do that. Are you okay?” 

The merman glares at him, sliding pointedly backwards a few inches to put more distance between them. “A bunch of animals tore up my tail and I can’t get away from here until the holes close over enough for me to be able to swim. Oh, and I also have no idea where the hell I am , which will make the whole getting away thing even harder. Do you think I’m okay?”

Sanji winces at his tone, that awful feeling of shame welling up in him just like before. “Yeah,” he says curling forward and hunching his shoulders miserably. “I guess that was a stupid question. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

His words make the merman pause in backing away. Shooting Sanji a curious expression, he wrinkles his nose in confusion, like he can’t understand the abrupt topic change. “You’re not responsible for this,” he says slowly, gesturing at his injury. “I saw the one who did it.”

“Niji,” Sanji confirms. “My brother. The other two were Ichiji and Yonji. I’m Sanji.”

Much to his surprise, the merman repeats his name, the syllables sounding odd in his voice, and then nods. “Zoro.”

Sanji feels a sudden bizarre urge to shake hands, so he wraps his arms around his legs to stop himself. Resting his chin on his knees, he motions to the half empty picnic basket. “You should finish the rest of that. You need to keep your strength up to heal.”

Zoro eyes him warily for a moment, but inevitably nods and sidles back to the spot he’d recently vacated. “Thanks for this,” he says, shoving more fish into his mouth. “Hunting with my tail the way it is was gonna be a huge pain in the ass.”

“I figured as much,” Sanji admits. “When did you last eat?”

“Dunno,” is the muffled reply. “I got separated from my friends before the storm hit, so somewhere around then.”

Meaning at least two days, probably closer to three, and he’d spent the bulk of that time dealing with a grievous injury on top of everything else. It’s a miracle he’s still even somewhat coherent. Sanji has to swallow down yet another rush of guilt.

“You’re on the flagship of Germa,” he says, figuring that if nothing else he can at least offer up what information he has. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you much about our exact location, that’s not something I get to be privy to, but we’re heading to an island called Kostas. The king there has a slight rebellion problem and has hired my so-called father to assist him in dealing with it.”

“Never heard of any of those,” Zoro admits, picking at the last bits of his meal. “Who’s your father?”

“Vinsmoke Judge, King of Germa.”

That gets the merman’s attention. Looking up from the now empty basket, he gives Sanji a surprised look. “You’re a prince?” He asks dubiously.

Sanji snorts, not at all offended by the man’s reaction, since it’s entirely warranted. “In name only,” he clarifies. “What I actually am is the family disappointment, but I’m afraid I don’t know you well enough yet to completely unlock my tragic backstory.”

“Fair enough,” Zoro replies, startling a laugh out of Sanji with how easily he complies. “I don’t go around spilling my guts to people on day one either.”

“Technically it’s day two,” Sanji points out. “We met yesterday.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Zoro says dryly. His expression softens slightly afterwards. “Thanks for getting me out,” he adds gruffly. “And for the place to sleep, I guess.”

Sanji shrugs. “It was the right thing to do,” he says simply. “Sorry the storm drain can’t be overly comfortable though.”

“‘Ve had worse,” Zoro says with an easy shrug of his own. “It’ll do until I can get out of here.”

Sanji very pointedly ignores the pang in his chest that occurs when the merman mentions his inevitable departure. He knows full well Zoro can’t stay here indefinitely. Never mind that the man no doubt has his own life to get back to, the longer he’s here, the more danger he’s in. It’s just that it’s nice to have someone to talk to other than occasionally his sister, is all.

The growing shadows around them remind him that it’s getting late, so he starts gathering up the detritus of Zoro’s meal, stowing it all safely away in the basket. “I should get out of here in case someone gets suspicious over how long I’ve been gone,” he says as he closes the lid. That’s not a particularly likely occurrence, but given what’s at stake, it’s better safe than sorry. 

“I’ll try and come back tomorrow,” he continues on as he loops the basket over his arm, “but I can’t promise anything. I figure this goes without saying, but you need to keep out of sight. If anyone other than me sees you, well, let’s just say it won’t be good. Don’t come out unless you know it’s me.”

Zoro frowns at this direction, but nods when Sanji gives him an imploring look. “Okay,” he agrees, although it’s obvious he has questions. “I’ll just … be here, I guess.”

Sanji gives him a tight smile. “It should be safe,” he tries to assure him. “No one ever comes this far out but me.”

That makes Zoro look even more curious, his mouth half opening to form a question before he clearly thinks better of it. Instead, he settles further back in the shallows, his gaze thoughtful as Sanji scrambles down off the rock.

Pausing mid-step, Sanji turns back as a thought occurs to him. “Is there anything I can bring you for your tail?” He asks. “Bandages or something?”

“Nah,” Zoro replies, his lips curling up in a faint grin. “That crap just slows me down. It’s better to let the wounds breathe.”

“That … does not sound like sound medical advice,” Sanji says, surprised when Zoro lets out a throaty laugh at his words. “What’s so funny?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Zoro says, his voice rife with amusement. “But I’ll be fine. I know how to take care of myself.”

Judging by the scars littering the man’s body, that statement is either incredibly true or a blatant falsehood. There’s no possible in-between. Deciding to err on the side of caution for the sake of his own sanity, Sanji opts to believe it’s the former, even though a nagging sense in his gut tells him that’s wrong.

“Fine,” he says, realizing that he’s let the silence drag on too long and now things are getting awkward. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“‘Kay,” Zoro replies, and without further comment he slips out of sight under the water. 

Sanji thinks he sees a faint ripple heading towards the storm drain, but the dimming light makes it hard to tell. Reminding himself that he needs to get going, he puts the water at his back and starts moving.

*****

Sanji tries to turn in early that night, but his sleep is poor to say the least. He spends a couple of hours tossing and turning, waiting for the darkness to claim him, and he’s awake again long before the sun rises, the stillness of the castle around him making it clear he’s the only one moving nearby.

He gets dressed for lack of anything better to do, and soon finds himself pacing around his room like a caged animal, his entire body a mess of restless energy, while his thoughts race through his head at a mile a minute.

He’s worried about Zoro, there’s no point in denying it. For all his apparent strength, the merman is incredibly vulnerable right now, and not only to the more immediate threat posed by Germa. He’d admitted freely that getting food for himself was going to be a problem with his tail in its current state, which means Sanji’s his main source of sustenance. If he doesn’t go back to the cove, the merman won’t eat, and if he doesn’t eat, he won’t heal.

His mind made up, Sanji stops his useless pacing and slips quietly out of his chambers. This is the time of day he usually sneaks into the kitchen when he goes anyway, and there shouldn’t be anyone around to see him. Plus, if he does get caught, it’s not like he’s going to admit who he’s cooking for, so it’s only him who’ll have to face Judge’s wrath.

Burying down a shudder at what that wrath is likely to result in, Sanji sternly tells himself that it’s for a good cause. After all, if someone is hungry they need to be fed.

Smiling against his will at the thought of the old mantra, Sanji pads cautiously through the halls, making a point to use a less travelled route like always to further reduce his odds of encountering anyone.

Eventually the kitchen doors loom in the distance, and he breathes a sigh of relief when they close behind him. Taking a quick glance at the clock on the wall, he mentally calculates how much time he has before the first of the staff should be making an appearance, and considers what he can make within that period.

Rolling up his sleeves, he gets to work.

Chapter Text

Sanji exits the castle after the sun has barely risen, once again thankful that Judge never wants to see him at meals (or at all, for that matter) unless he’s putting on a show. Most of Germa is used to him hiding away out of sight, so his absence won’t be remarked upon.

The cove looks no different than it has the last two days, and Zoro’s nowhere in sight. Hoping that means he’s listened to his advice about not coming out unless he knows who’s there, Sanji settles down in the now familiar position on the flat rock and shoves his hand into the water, splashing it around like usual. 

He’s got his eyes locked on the storm drain as he moves, so he sees the moment Zoro sits up with an annoyed huff.

“You know,” the merman says around a yawn, scrubbing one hand through his wet green hair, “most people say hello first.”

“Hello, mossy,” Sanji says, grinning when Zoro gives him a confused look. “I brought breakfast if you’re interested.”

Almost as quickly as he had the day before, Zoro pushes himself out of the drain and crosses the distance to Sanji’s rock. Popping up right beside it, he braces his forearms a few inches away from Sanji’s knee and props his chin on them. “Wha’cha got?”

“You mean aside from better grammar than you?” Sanji asks, not missing when Zoro rolls his eye. “Essentially the same stuff as yesterday. I wasn’t sure if you have anything specific you like, and you ate everything last time.”

Zoro shrugs, “I’m not picky,” he says, “but I like sea king meat the best if you have any of that.”

Sanji pauses in the process of opening the basket and removing its contents. “Sea king meat,” he says flatly. “What kind of madman do you have to be to go after one of those creatures? Most of them are the size of buildings.”

“They’re not that tough,” Zoro disagrees. Sanji notes idly that, despite his indication of his favorites, he’s once again gone straight for the onigiri. “I’ve killed plenty of ‘em.”

“If you say so,” Sanji replies dubiously. He watches as Zoro takes his first bite of food, an embarrassed part of him wondering if the merman will notice a difference in the quality. “Was it a sea king that hacked open your chest?”

“Nah. I got that one challenging someone who was still out of my league. I’ll beat him one day, though, and I haven’t lost to anybody else since.” He utters these words with a simple confidence, that of a man who’s merely speaking the truth as opposed to bragging. “I made a promise not to.”

“To who?” Sanji asks.

“People,” Zoro says evasively, apparently not ready to give up all of his backstory yet either. He takes another bite of the rice ball in his hand, this one bigger than the last. “This one’s better than yesterday,” he declares. “Like, a lot better.”

“Really?” Sanji squeaks out, and then immediately starts cursing his fair complexion for the way he can feel his face heating. “I mean, uh, that’s good?”

Zoro gives him a funny look. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “I just said it was, didn’t I?”

“Whatever,” Sanji mutters. Needing something to do with his hands, he fumbles for his lighter and his smokes. “D’you mind?” He asks, holding them up.

Zoro shrugs. “Never understood the urge, but it doesn’t bother me if that’s what you’re asking. Go ahead.”

Relieved, Sanji strikes his lighter until it flares to life and raises it to the cigarette he’s freed from the packet. Taking a heavy drag, he exhales the smoke away from Zoro, figuring that much is only polite. “Thanks.”

“You’re feeding me,” Zoro replies. “Fair’s fair.”

“Sure,” Sanji says, watching him finish off the onigiri and move on to some slices of ham that had come straight from the castle butcher. “There’s some cutlery in the bottom of the basket if you use that sort of thing.”

“Don’t really care one way or the other,” Zoro admits, even as he takes it out, “but I usually get yelled at if I don’t.”

“Sure,” Sanji says again. “So, I’m just going to come right and say this, I don’t have a lot of experience in meeting new people, especially ones who are, uh, as unusual as you, shall we say. What’s a normal interaction with a human like for you?”

“Depends on the human, I guess,” Zoro says around a mouthful of food. Even with a proper knife and fork his manners are still atrocious. “If you want to know something specific, you can just ask.”

“Um, okay,” Sanji says. Surprised by the offer, he racks his brain for a suitable opening question. “Did you grow up nearby?”

Zoro gives him a frankly judgemental look, but thankfully doesn’t press. “I’m from the East Blue originally.”

“Not the Grand Line?”

Zoro shakes his head. “Mm hmm, only been out here about three years now. My, uh, friend wanted to come and managed to convince some people to join him. He’s good at that,” he adds, almost to himself. There’s a funny little smile on his face that suggests, whoever this ‘friend’ is, Zoro’s awfully fond of him.

“What about you?” He asks then, shaking himself out of his stupor. “I’ve never heard of Germa before. Where is it?”

Sanji makes a show of kicking the rock he’s sitting on. “You’re looking at it,” he says. “The fleet is the country. All the ships can physically lock together to form one giant island of awful, and it sails wherever Judge decides he wants to go. Technically, we’re from the North Blue though.”

“I’ve never been.” Zoro says. “The water temperature makes that ocean a pain in the ass for most of my kind to deal with. There are some of us better suited for it, though.”

“Yeah?” Sanji asks, curious. “Are any of the friends you mentioned travelling with from up that way?”

“None,” Zoro says, before cocking his head to the side, seemingly lost in thought. “Nah, none of them,” he says after a few moments have passed. “Met a couple Pirates from up that way, though. Bunch of weird fuckers, the lot of them.”

“Duly noted,” Sanji says, surprised to find himself more amused than offended. “What happened to your friends anyway? You said you got separated from them.”

Zoro flaps an unconcerned hand. “It’s fine. Those idiots are always getting lost, but they’ll turn up eventually.”

“Will they look for you here?” Sanji asks, suddenly alarmed. He’s going to have a hard enough time hiding one merman, there’s no way he’s going to be able to stuff a whole squad of them in the storm drain.

“Probably,” Zoro says, oblivious to Sanji’s burgeoning crisis. “Or they might get tied up somewhere else. That kind of happens a lot.”

“It’s not a good idea for them to come here,” Sanji warns. “This is not a place where strangers are welcome.”

“Dunno about that,” Zoro says, rooting around in Sanji’s basket some more. “I’m feeling pretty welcome all told.”

Once again against his will, Sanji blushes.

*****

Sanji had the foresight to pack today’s picnic basket with more food than yesterday’s. And not only that, but he’d swiped a few containers to seal up food meant to be eaten later. This means that he can leave without worrying that Zoro’s going to wind up going hungry.

The merman watches him from the collection of craggy rocks he’d hidden out in the day before as he carefully tucks the stacked containers away out of sight. Feeling that lone eye boring into the back of his neck, Sanji finds himself needing to fill the silence as he works.

“I hope I made enough,” he says then, busy arranging some rocks around the hiding place to keep anything from being washed away. “I don’t know how much the average merperson eats, but given that you’re not exactly small, I tried to err on the side of caution. Let me know if you need more, though, and I’ll adjust for next time.”

Giving his work one last glance over, Sanji turns, satisfied, to find Zoro watching him with a confused look on his face. “Uh, did I say something funny?”

“What do you mean, you hope you made enough?” Zoro asks. “I thought you just got something from the kitchens.”

“Oh, well,” embarrassed at being caught out, Sanji shuffles awkwardly in place. “I used food that was already prepared the first time because the kitchen was too busy for me to sneak in and do it myself. Today’s meals are all my work.”

Zoro blinks. “I thought you’re supposed to be a prince.”

Sanji laughs deprecatingly. “The key word there is ‘supposed’ to be. For numerous reasons, I’m not a very good one.”

“Huh,” Zoro says, his tail twitching slightly before freezing in an aborted movement. That’s something Sanji’s noticed him do a number of times this morning. He now suspects it’s an automatic habit that the merman keeps belatedly remembering not to do because of his injury.

“So you’re a cook then?”

“I - sort of?” Sanji says, not sure how to answer. “I like to cook, or love it really, and I’m good at it. It’s not a skill that Judge approves of, however, and he’s tried to beat it out of me on more than one occasion.”

“Tried to - !” Zoro jerks, outrage painting his face for the few brief moments Sanji gets to see it as he lets go of the rocks without thinking and drops down under the water.

Worried, Sanji starts to make his way over, only stopping when the merman pops back up, a furious expression still gracing his features. “What the hell kind of place is this?” He demands, shocking Sanji with the absolute venom lacing his tone. “Who gives a fuck if you like cooking or not?”

“It’s a long story,” Sanji says tiredly, even as he feels an odd burst of warmth in his chest thanks to the merman’s rage. “One I don’t much feel like getting into at the moment. Especially since I need to get back given how long I’ve been gone. I’ll try to come see you tomorrow, okay? But don’t panic if it’s longer than that.”

“No promises,” Zoro growls, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean.

Sanji’s almost reached the tree line when he hears the sound of water splashing behind him. Concerned, he shifts back around and finds Zoro’s clawed his way right to the edge of the shoreline, and is sitting with the bulk of his body out of the water.

“Oi, cook!” He barks, brow furrowed into an expression Sanji can’t read. “The food you brought today? It was really good. Way better than whoever made yesterday’s.”

Sanji chokes, startled by the compliment, and he suspects he’s not the only one. Zoro’s face has gone a vibrant shade of red, the colour starting at the tips of his ears, and travelling all the way down to the upper part of his chest.

“Thanks,” he stutters, not sure what else he can say. “Um, is there anything else I can make that you might like? Bread? Sweets?”

Zoro makes a disgusted face. “Bread’s fine, but no sweets. Hate that stuff.” He grins suddenly, the expression more of a smirk than anything else. “Wouldn’t say no to some booze if you can swing it. Don’t do anything stupid to get yourself in trouble, though,” he adds, his voice turning serious. “I don’t want that.”

“I know how to take care of myself,” Sanji assures him.

Ignoring Zoro’s dubious expression, he once again turns to leave.

*****

As much as Sanji wants to go back to the cove again the next day, he knows doing it too often will run the risk of picking up unwanted attention. Plus, he needs to get a feel for the situation in Germa so he can better assess how to go about keeping Zoro safe.

The fact of the matter is, very few people in the country actually talk to him. Judge occasionally deigns to talk at him, but typically prefers to act as if he doesn’t exist, while his brothers outright mock him at best and aim to cause deliberate harm at worst. Combine that with the staff who are terrified of his status as a Vinsmoke (even a disgraced one) and the soldiers’ standing orders not to have anything to do with him, and really it’s only Reiju he can expect to have a conversation with.

His sister is gone with the rest of their siblings, however, and even if she wasn’t he thinks he’d be nervous about sharing this particular secret with her. He’d learned the hard way that Reiju has a nasty habit of revealing things she shouldn’t out of a misguided belief that doing so will protect Sanji from his own risky behaviour.

Which leaves him with his other tried and tested method of getting information on the comings and goings of Germa. One of the few perks about being ignored by those around you, is that people tend not to notice you unless you cause a scene. Over the years, Sanji has gotten very good at hiding in plain sight, and he knows where to plant himself to get access to the rumour mill.

Armed with a book and a pack of cigarettes, Sanji strolls out onto the balcony outside his room. It’s smaller than some of the others, but still overlooks the courtyard where the soldiers do most of their training. 

Sanji’s hearing may not be as good as that of his siblings, but it’s still perfectly adequate, and where you have soldiers, you have gossip. By planting himself in a lounge chair outside and pretending to focus on the book in his lap, he can spend hours gathering information that no one would ever give him directly.

The first thing he hears that isn’t direct commentary on someone’s training regime is that his siblings have made it to Kostas, but won’t be back for a while. It seems that the island’s rebels have some allies of their own, people strong enough that subduing them is going to take longer than anticipated. His siblings won’t be returning to the fleet, but rather the fleet will be joining up with them.

That’s interesting news in and of itself. It’s rare as hell that Ichiji and Co. run into enemies they can’t trounce within moments, let alone for them to potentially need back up. More important, however, is how long it’s going to take the main fleet to reach Kostas.

His siblings had gone ahead on one of the scouting ships, making the trip in only a handful of days because the small, nimble craft are by far the quickest in the fleet. This is the exact opposite of the larger ships, and the castle in particular, which is a cumbersome old thing that takes four times as long to get anywhere.

General consensus has it that they won’t be reaching Kostas any earlier than within the next two weeks. That’s also assuming they don’t run into any strange weather or other bizarre Grand Line phenomena to slow them down. 

He has no idea how long it’s going to take Zoro to get fully mobile again, but surely he should be able to leave the ship within that time frame. It had taken barely twenty four hours for his wounds to seal shut, after all. Hopefully the tears will mend just as fast.

Resolving to get some clarification on his next visit, Sanji tells himself not to borrow trouble by worrying, and lies back to see if he can learn anything else of use.

*****

Zoro’s annoyed when Sanji goes to see him the next day. He’s already near their usual spot by the time Sanji arrives, rising out of the water mere seconds after Sanji starts splashing to get his attention. 

“I’m not a dog, you know,” he grunts, sole eye narrowed. “There are other ways to let me know you’re here.”

Momentarily taken aback, Sanji finds himself tensing at the man’s tone. “Well excuse the fuck out of me, mosshead,” he snaps, jerking open the lid of today’s basket with more force than necessary. “That’s some way to greet the guy who’s keeping you from starving to death.”

“I wouldn’t even be in this mess of it wasn’t for your fucking family, curly,” Zoro snaps back. “And you’re not actually keeping me from anything. I can take care of myself!”

“You’ve got multiple extra holes in your body,” Sanji says incredulously. “And you got no sleep for like two days because you had to cling to the side of a building to not get swept away before I came along. Also , who the fuck are you calling curly ?”

In answer, Zoro points a finger at his own eyebrow, smirking when Sanji sputters with rage.

“You algae covered jackass,” he hisses. “If it didn’t go against every fiber of my being, I’d take this damn basket and leave you out here. Have fun gnawing on your own tail for sustenance if I do. And in the spot of shelter I made happen for you, no less.”

They stare at each other for several moments, the two of them panting harshly the only sounds in the ensuing silence, until finally Zoro breaks the spell.

“So,” he says, looking intrigued, “there is an attitude hiding under all that … whatever you’ve got going on with you. I figured there had to be given the way you keep risking pissing off your father by coming out here.”

“He’s not my father,” Sanji growls automatically. “At least not in any way that matters. Also, what the hell, Marimo? Did you seriously pick a fight with me just to see how I’d react?”

“No,” Zoro retorts. “I did it because I’m fucking bored . And what the heck’s a marimo?” He asks suspiciously.

“It’s like a little ball of green moss that lives in water,” Sanji explains, cupping his hands in a spherical motion to further illustrate what he’s getting at. “I was referencing your hair, but maybe I should have also had your maturity level in mind if this is how you handle boredom. What are you, five?”

“Twenty-one,” Zoro replies, causing Sanji to blink.

“Oh, uh, really?” He asks, pointing at himself when Zoro nods. “Me too.”

“Huh.” Zoro says, although whether it’s a good sound or a bad sound, Sanji can’t tell. “Whatever. What’d you bring me today?”

“The usual,” Sanji says, thrown by the lack of heat now present in his voice. “Plus a few bread rolls and a red wine since you mentioned wanting alcohol, which, for the record, I was not aware merpeople drank.”

“I don’t care what other people do, I drink it cuz I like it. Sake would’ve been better, though,” Zoro adds, wrinkling his nose. “It’s the best booze there is.”

“Do forgive me,” Sanji drawls, rolling his eyes. “Do you want the wine or not?” At Zoro’s answering nod, he pulls the bottle out and roots around for the glass he’d brought, along with the bottle opener. 

“Don’t bother,” Zoro says when he sees what he’s doing. Stretching out an arm, he pulls the bottle out of Sanji’s grasp, raises it to his lips, and yanks the cork out with his sharp teeth before knocking back a hearty swig.

“Sorry,” he says when he notices Sanji staring at him. “Did you want some?”

“What I want is for you to have some modicum of class,” Sanji grits out, appalled by the sacrilege he’s inadvertently contributed to. “That is a high quality red, you oaf. It’s meant to be savoured, not gulped .”

Zoro shrugs, unconcerned. “Tastes like any other wine I’ve ever had.”

“You are a disaster,” Sanji tells him. “An animal. An ogre. A veritable brute . My heart goes out to whatever clan is forced to count you as one of their own because every last one of them deserves to be nominated for sainthood.”

“Heh. I can name an awful lot of people who would disagree with you on that one,” Zoro says, waggling the bottle at him. To Sanji’s dismay, it’s already half empty.

“You haven’t even eaten anything yet,” he points out, horrified. “That much wine on an empty stomach cannot be good for you. Especially not in your condition.”

Zoro rolls his eye. “I know a doctor you’d get along with real well, but fine.” He sets the bottle down on the rock not far from Sanji’s knee, but instead of waiting for him to unload the basket like usual, he hauls himself out of the water and takes a seat next to him, leaving only his fins trailing in the ocean current. “Let me see.”

“Um,” Sanji says, taken aback by the merman’s unexpected proximity. “I mean, sure?”

Rummaging around in the basket, Zoro unsurprisingly comes up with the fresh plate of onigiri Sanji had made him. There hadn’t been any in the food Sanji had left for him overnight due to concerns about how it would handle the elements, so he’d made sure to bring some today.

And speaking of, “Did you have enough food to get you through yesterday?”

“Mhmm,” Zoro mumbles around the rice ball in his mouth. Sanji supposes he should be glad he’s not actively trying to speak that way. “Finished it off last night.”

Well. Spoke too soon.

“Please,” he groans. “Finish swallowing first.”

“Priss.”

It’s only the thought of the wasted food that stops Sanji from kicking him right back into the water. Even the risk of him further injuring his tail is only so much of a deterrent.

Which reminds him. “How are you feeling today? Any better?”

“Some,” Zoro says, which is good news, quickly followed by, “Still can’t take off though,” which isn’t.

“On average,” Sanji asks slowly. “How long does an injury like this one take to heal?”

“That,” Zoro says brightly, “depends entirely on how you define ‘heal’. The wounds should be mostly closed over in about a week, but they’ll rip back open again if I try and do any serious swimming.”

“And how long before you can swim without that happening?”

Zoro holds up a hand and waggles it up and down in the universal gesture for ‘who knows’, frowning when Sanji buries his face in his hands with a groan. “What’s the matter, cook? Don’t tell me you’re getting sick of me already.”

“It’s not that,” Sanji sighs. Indeed, it really, really isn’t that. Zoro’s the most enjoyable company he’s had since … Sanji’s mind shies away from that thought, and he forces himself to focus on the question asked instead. “We’ve only got about two weeks before the rest of the fleet catches up with my siblings. And that’s provided the situation in Kostas doesn’t get resolved between now and then. Them being around will add a whole new level of danger to you being out here.”

“You do realize your brothers aren’t all that scary, don’t you?” Zoro asks, snorting when Sanji stares at him. “The blue haired one got in a lucky shot because I had no idea they were there. Now that I know I need to keep my guard up, the situation is different.”

“You,” Sanji says stiffly, “don’t have any idea of what you’re talking about.”

No doubt alerted by the icy tone in his voice, Zoro swallows what’s in his mouth and doesn’t take a fresh bite out of the dinner roll he’s been tearing into. “Look,” he says, his voice surprisingly gentle for such a wild thing, “I get that they treat you like shit and you obviously have baggage where they’re concerned, but - ”

“But nothing!” Sanji snaps. “You have no idea what those monsters are capable of. Thanks to Judge they’re barely even human anymore.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zoro wants to know.

Unfortunately for him, Sanji is one hundred percent not having this conversation. Not caring that it’s rude, he scrambles down off the rock, leaving the confused merman now sitting alone. “I have to go,” he says flatly. “I have to not be here right now.”

“What? Why? Hey, wait!” Unable to follow him onto the shore, Zoro is stuck back in the shallows, watching him with a baffled expression on his face. “I wasn’t trying to piss you off that time.”

“I know,” Sanji says because he does. “I’m not pissed off. I’m just - just,” just on the verge of a fucking panic attack as he’s being assaulted by hateful memories. “Never mind,” he says, knowing full well he can’t admit that out loud. “There’s enough food there for the rest of the day, and I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Zoro still looks like he wants to protest, but he must be bright enough to read the room because what he actually says is, “You promise?”

“Yeah,” Sanji says weakly, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see the concerned look on the merman’s face. “Yeah, I promise.”

*****

Unsurprisingly, Sanji sleeps like absolute shit. He’s awake for good by three in the morning, having spent the past few hours plagued by images of things he’d much rather forget. Figuring he may as well give up on sleep at that point, he goes to the kitchen to put something together for Zoro.

It’s only once he’s about to pack everything up that he remembers he’d left the basket he’s been using down in the cove. Cursing under his breath, he searches around for another one, hoping it won’t be missed while he’s gone.

Part of him wants to wait until later than usual to head out, not yet ready to face the merman after yesterday’s outburst. On the other hand, the later he goes, the more people who will be awake for him to possibly run into, and he can’t risk having to stay behind since Zoro will end up going hungry.

Plus, he had promised to come back today, and Sanji’s a lot of things, but unless he’s protecting someone a liar isn’t one of them. 

He almost reverts that sentiment when he’s passing the last line of trees that are between him and the cove. Taking a deep breath, he has to sternly tell himself to just put one foot in front of the other until he steps out into the rocky crevice. 

As per usual, Zoro’s nowhere in sight when he emerges. His forgotten picnic basket is, though. It’s sitting neatly closed in Sanji’s usual spot with all signs of its contents quietly tucked away out of sight.

Smiling slightly at what he suspects is either an apology or at least a peace offering, Sanji moves the empty basket out of the way and takes a seat with his legs crossed under him. Then, because he’s an asshole, he sticks his hand in the water.

Whereupon he nearly has a heart attack when he comes in contact with a very human head. Barely containing a startled shriek, he yanks his hand back, grabbing his wrist with the other as he stares down at the water in horror.

“You ingrate ,” he snarls as a laughing Zoro follows him up. “Oh my god, who raised you?”

“Do you really wanna know?” Zoro asks, still snickering.

“Probably not,” Sanji grumbles, flicking the last drops of water from his hand in the merman’s face. “I imagine you either take after them or drove them into an early grave.”

“Did not.” Zoro denies, but most of the amusement is fading from his face to be replaced by something more serious. “Are you feeling better today?” He asks, sounding hesitant.

“I’m fine,” Sanji replies. It’s a bit of a stretch, he knows, but he’d much rather they simply put yesterday behind them and not dwell on it any further. As a reflection of such, he pins Zoro with a look of his own. “What about you, how’s the tail?”

In answer, Zoro rotates around in the shallow water, twisting until he can brace his arms under him and lift his tail up for Sanji to see. “It’s okay,” he says when Sanji blinks at him in confusion. “You can touch.”

Sanji’s pretty sure this is another way for the merman to offer an apology without actually saying anything, but he’s not a strong enough man to pass this opportunity up. Personality-wise, Zoro may be the farthest thing Sanji’d ever imagined from the stories his mother had read him as a child, but he’s still the real deal when you get down to it. Hesitantly, he holds out his hands and let’s Zoro drape his tail over his empty palms.

It’s even heavier out of the water, and the vibrant green scales are warm to the touch, very different from the fish he’s used to handling. The much more fragile fins flutter slightly in the breeze, causing Sanji to wonder if the motion is painful thanks to the tears. 

Having said that, the holes in the fins are definitely smaller than they were the last time he’d laid eyes on them. He’s less sure about the third wound, the one punched right through the actual tail, but even that doesn’t look any worse than before.

Carefully, he lowers the tail back in the water, noting with no small amount of satisfaction that Zoro swishes it under his own power once his hands are out of the way, the movement much more fluid than it had been.

“You’re doing better,” he says, pleased.

“Mhm,” Zoro agrees, shifting around so he can rest his arms on the rock like usual. “It’s still pretty fucked up, but being able to stay off it really is making a difference.” He makes a face as soon as these words have left his mouth. “My doctor friend can never know.”

“Uh, okay?” Sanji says, not really knowing what that means. “Do you want breakfast now?”

“Sure.”

Zoro’s much more sedate in his eating today, picking his way through the various offerings quietly, and not saying much in the process. There’s a weird sense of foreboding in the air around them, leaving Sanji afraid he’s going to have to at least acknowledge the previous day’s events.

Once he’s had his fill, Zoro shoves the still sealed containers towards Sanji so he can tuck them away in their usual hiding spot for later. Only after Sanji has finished this task and returned to his spot on the rock does the merman say anything.

“I, uh, packed up your basket for you?” He offers weakly. “And I cleaned out last night’s containers before I put them inside. As best as I could, anyway. It’s kinda hard to wash dishes without soap and stuff.”

“That’s fine,” Sanji assures him. “Thank you for trying.”

Another awkward silence descends over them, and Sanji searches his brain for something to use to break the ice. “How’s your boredom level today?”

Excellent. Well done and not weird at all, Sanji.

If Zoro takes issue with the question, however, he doesn’t show it. Instead he shrugs first one shoulder and then the other, his face creasing into a put out expression as he sinks further into the water.

“It’s so bad ,” he flat out whines, putting Sanji in mind of an, admittedly very large, pouting child. “I can’t train, I can’t spar, I can’t hunt, and there’s no one to talk to when you’re not here. Normally, I spend half my time trying to find somewhere to get a little peace and quiet, but right about now I’d sit through one of Brook’s six hour shows and smile while I did it.”

“Uhh,” Sanji says helpfully, and Zoro flaps a hand dismissively, sending droplets of water cascading everywhere.

“You have to see it to understand it,” he says, shoulders sagging. “I want to go home. I hate whenever we get separated like this.”

He doesn’t sound particularly upset as he says the words, and his expression doesn’t waver, but Sanji still feels a visceral sense of longing on the other man’s behalf. Zoro’s obviously trying to downplay whatever he’s experiencing, and Sanji, who’s never really had a home to belong to, can only imagine what he’s going through right now.

“You’ll get there,” he promises. Greatly daring, he reaches out to give one burly shoulder a quick pat, surprised at how warm the slick skin is beneath his fingers. “You just have to, you know, heal up. And also not get caught by my psycho relatives in the process. Should be a piece of cake.”

Zoro snorts, rolling into Sanji’s touch with surprising ease. “I don’t like cake.”

“Piece of onigiri then,” Sanji corrects as he draws his hand back, pleased when his suggestion makes the other man snicker. “Though I’ve been meaning to ask you, is the no sweets thing a merman thing or a you thing?”

“The second one,” Zoro says after taking a moment to parse out what he’s being asked. “Most people I know like sweet stuff. I did travel with a guy once who hated bread, but that wasn’t even close to the weirdest thing about him.”

“Sounds like quite the character,” Sanji replies. “Wanna tell me about him?”

“About Law?” Zoro makes a face. “There’s not much to tell. He got us wrapped up in some shit that took forever to sort out, but he wasn’t the worst person I ever dealt with. He was just, whatever.”

“Just, whatever,” Sanji mimics. “So articulate, Marimo.”

“Oi, don’t call me that, curlybrow!”

“No? How about mossball?”

“Not funny!”

“Kelp head? Algae brains?”

“I’m gonna kick your ass!”

Laughing, Sanji dodges out of the way of Zoro’s halfhearted lunge, rolling off the rock and landing nimbly on the shore behind him. “I’d like to see you figure out how to do that from here.”

Zoro glares at him, albeit with minimal heat, from where he’s as close to the waterline as he can get. “Watch it, twirls,” he says ominously. “Once I’m all healed up that won’t be nearly far enough away from me.”

Once he’s healed up enough, Zoro will be out of his life for good, Sanji knows, but rather than let that stray thought show on his face, he resolves to enjoy what time they have left as best he can.

He only hopes the looming shadow of his family doesn’t come crashing in to make things difficult.

*****

Several hours later, Sanji finds himself deeply regretting that passing thought because it was clearly an instance of his tempting fate. He’s just made it back to his rooms, slinking along especially carefully because he’s still moderately damp thanks to Zoro finding the act of splashing him amusing, when he comes to an abrupt halt at the sight of a light shining out from under his door. 

Knowing full well he hadn’t left anything on when he’d left since it’d been broad daylight, he cautiously grasps the doorknob in one hand, turning it slowly so as to further prolong the inevitable.

“There you are,” Reiju says without bothering to look up from the teacup she has raised in front of her. “What’s got you out so late?”

“Me?” Sanji asks, shuffling inside on legs that feel like cooked noodles thanks to the sense of relief washing over him. “What are you doing here period? Don’t tell me you’re finished in Kostas already.”

She does look up at that, smirking at him over the rim of her cup. “Someone’s been spying on the soldiers in the courtyard again,” she says knowingly.

“Yeah, well, excuse me for not having much else to do with my time,” he says. Toeing off his shoes, he places them on the mat where he prefers to keep them, and tugs off his filthy socks. They’d gotten an extra special soaking thanks to Zoro trying to drag him into the water at one point, and they might need multiple stints in the laundry room if they’re going to have any hope of being restored to their original glory.

“You’re wet,” Reiju notes, her visible eyebrow rising in surprise. “What in the world have you been doing?”

“I’ve been taking advantage of the nice weather to spend time down on the waterfront,” Sanji says, having been practising his story for days in case the need to do so arose. “It’s nothing like we normally get in the North. I can stay out there for hours without having to worry about freezing my ass off.”

“And you apparently went swimming fully dressed,” Reiju says. She doesn’t look particularly suspicious, but Sanji knows her well enough to recognize when she’s fishing for information.

Luckily, he also knows how to get her away from the topic. It’s a cruel bit of manipulation that he doesn’t like partaking in, but needs must and all that. 

“I tripped while I was climbing on some of the wet rocks,” he says. “The real kind of tripped and not the kind I tend to claim when Niji and Yonji are involved.”

As expected, her mouth goes tight at the reference to their brothers’ typical behaviour around him, and Sanji can practically feel the need to change the subject wafting off of her. Since that’s what he wants too, he’s glad to offer her a lifeline. 

“You haven’t answered my question,” he points out. “What are you doing back so soon?”

“Kostas is a mess,” she says flatly. “The rebels have somehow managed to ally with one of the more famous pirate crews in the New World, and they are proving to be more trouble than anticipated. Father wanted to be debriefed in person, and I offered to be the one to do it. The other three are busy looking for new targets to punch out their frustrations on.”

“Sounds like them,” Sanji says, grateful for multiple reasons that Reiju had been the one to come. “Are you sticking around until the fleet reaches Kostas then?”

“No, there’s too much going on to leave our brothers unattended for that long. Ichiji isn’t so much of a problem, but the other two will get restless.”

“I am aware of what they’re like, Reiju,” he says dryly, trying without success not to feel a small amount of petty glee when she flinches. “So you’re on babysitting duty lest they get annoyed and destroy the wrong army. How nice.”

“Yes, well,” his sister drops her gaze down to the teacup in her hands, no doubt unwilling to look him in the eye. “It is what it is,” she finally huffs. “I got in early this evening and Father’s set aside most of tomorrow to go over my report. I’ll be heading back as soon as that’s done.”

“I had hoped to have dinner with you tonight,” she adds quietly, “but you were nowhere to be found.”

“I had no idea you were going to be here,” he points out absently, his mind currently occupied with a much more pressing concern. “I’d have kept to the castle if I’d known to expect you.”

She smiles at that, apparently pleased at the notion that he’d want to spend time with her. “Perhaps we could do breakfast tomorrow instead.”

Sanji’s mind races at her suggestion. Normally he’d jump at the chance to spend time with her, forever desperate for whatever pleasant company he can get his hands on, but the longer she’s here this time, the more of a problem it’s going to become.

“If we do that,” he starts, choosing his words carefully. “Won’t it delay your meeting with Judge? I - Reiju, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you know how I feel about drawing his attention. It never really ends well for me.”

Her smile turns brittle and sad around the edges, but she does her best not to let anything show in her voice. Given that she’s much better at doing so than him, she almost succeeds. “It’s either I eat with you or with him, and he won’t want to hear what I have to discuss until we’re out of sight of the servants regardless. We’ll just have to eat fairly quickly.”

“I see,” he says, plastering a fake smile on his face because he knows she’ll be expecting a real one now. Inwardly, however, he’s doing some mental calculations and not at all liking what he’s coming up with. 

Debriefings with Judge rarely end quickly, and one where things aren’t going well in his view is likely to take even longer than normal. If Reiju doesn’t even start a meeting until mid-morning, it’s going to be sometime in the afternoon at the earliest before they finish. Furthermore, she’s going to expect him to stick around the castle in the hope that she’ll have time to see him before she leaves because it’s what he’d do under normal circumstances. 

Put it all together, and there’s no way he’s going to be able to sneak out and go see Zoro tomorrow. Even worse, he’d left the merman with enough food for tonight and maybe the morning if the big oaf bothers to ration it, but he’s going to have to go at least a day without eating before Sanji can get back to him.

Feeling a rush of guilt swell up in him, Sanji tries not to wilt under his sister’s watchful eye and hopes like hell she’s not here any longer than planned.

*****

The following day crawls by. He can’t enjoy breakfast with Reiju like he normally would, too concerned about how long she might be around, and he paces his room like a caged animal for the entire time she’s locked away with Judge, eyeing the clock on the wall like it’s personally out to get him with how slow it’s moving.

He knows he made the right call by sticking around, though. Exactly as he’s expecting, Reiju let’s herself into his room when she’s finished with Judge, stepping inside with an indulgent smile on her face because she knows full well the old bastard wouldn’t approve.

“That took even longer than I expected,” Sanji says as he watches her settle into her favourite armchair. Not wanting her to become suspicious, he drops down into the matching one across from her. “The situation’s really that bad, huh?”

“Worse,” she says grimly. “These pirates, they’re relentless. Not to mention powerful. We haven’t even met them all, several don’t appear to be present yet, including the first mate, who is by all accounts the equivalent of an army all on his own. The amount of trouble they’re giving us is therefore … concerning.”

Sanji feels his eyebrows shoot up, curious in spite of how much he wants her to leave. “You almost sound as if you think they’re strong enough to win,” he says.

“That’s because I do,” she says, shocking him with the admission. “Or at the very least I think the damage they can inflict in the time it will take us to beat them isn’t going to be worth it. The reason my meeting took so long is because I was trying to convince Judge to let us pull out.”

“You can’t be serious,” Sanji blurts. Only once in his life has he ever seen Judge willingly retreat from a fight, and that had been a case of extremely extenuating circumstances. There’s no way he’ll turn tail and run in the face of one singular pirate crew.

“I’m completely serious,” Reiju replies. “And I’m sure you can imagine exactly how well the suggestion went over.”

Shuddering at the thought, Sanji has to admire the fact that she’d nevertheless had the guts to take her real opinion to Judge. In her place, he doubts he’d have been so willing. “How much crap did he throw around the room?”

“One of the windows will need replacing,” she admits. “As will a lot of the stonework, and it still got me nowhere. I’m to depart as soon as my ship is ready, and he expects me to have better news for him by the time the fleet reaches Kostas.”

“Good to hear he’s as rational as ever,” Sanji mutters.

“Indeed,” she says. “Although, don’t deny it, little brother, you won’t care one whit if we get our asses handed to us. In fact, I suspect you’ll enjoy it.”

“Sure I will,” Sanji snorts, “right up until the jackass trio take their frustrations out on me, that is.” He jerks both thumbs towards his chest, offering her a sarcastic grin as well. “One high quality punching bag coming right up.”

“Sanji,” she chides, and he wipes the look off his face.

“Sorry,” he says, only sort of meaning it. “But fine, yes, I would not be opposed to them getting a beat down. Sue me.”

“You know I’d never blame you for how you feel,” she says, putting him uncomfortably in mind of their mother thanks to her tone. “It’s - your situation is not a fair one. It never has been.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Sanji retorts, his mood souring even further. “Or instead, please feel free to stop talking about this altogether.”

“Of course,” she replies, thankfully allowing him the out. “I should get going anyway. I mainly came because I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

“Yeah, you’ve always been good about that,” he acknowledges.

She hugs him as she stands to leave, the action not one that comes naturally to her, but that she always remembers to do because he likes it. Sanji dredges up a smile in return, but sags immediately back into his seat once she’s gone.

A quick glance out the window tells him it’s nearly dusk, meaning there’s no way he’s getting to Zoro before it’s pitch black out. Add that to the fact that his leaving the castle at this hour will be suspicious and he knows full well he’s not going to make it out today.

Sternly telling himself that Zoro’s a big boy who won’t waste away from a day of no food, he resolves to take as much extra supplies as he can carry the next day.

*****

They hit a massive storm in the morning. Judge orders the entire castle on lockdown rather than risk the wrath of the Grand Line, and no one gets in or out as rain lashes the window and the wind howls outside. 

Sanji stares grimly through the glass as a crack of thunder booms out and lightning splits the sky, doing his best not to think of what could happen to someone, especially an injured someone, trapped in these elements.

Chapter Text

By the time morning rolls around, Sanji’s worked himself into a frenzy. Fully determined to risk heading out regardless of the circumstances, he therefore nearly faints when he pulls the curtains open and finds the sun shining back at him. Not willing to wait any longer, he grabs the basket he has stashed under his bed and starts moving.

The trek out seems to take even longer than usual, and by the time he reaches the cove, Sanji’s half convinced himself that he’s going to find either Zoro’s dead body or nothing at all. Anxious to say the least, he sprints to the rock the moment he clears the tree line, flinging himself down hard enough his knees will likely bruise, and already calling the merman’s name as he dunks both hands in the water.

“Damn, cook, you’re gonna wake the whole world like that,” a tired voice huffs.

Sanji instinctively jerks his gaze in the direction of the storm drain, but there’s nothing there when he looks. His nerves not easing in the slightest, he frantically looks around, finally spotting the merman lounging among the craggy rocks, seeming like he’s just woken up.

“What are you doing over there? Never mind,” he decides, slapping the rock beneath him with a heavy hand. “Get over here so I can get a good look at you.”

Grumbling, Zoro nevertheless does as he’s told, weaving his way out from among the rocks and steering himself towards Sanji with a cautious flick of his tail. It’s the most Sanji’s ever seen him use the thing, and should send a swath of relief through him. Unfortunately, he’s too out of sorts to manage it. 

He grabs for the merman once he’s within reach, manners be damned. His fingers scrabble over the slick skin of his neck and shoulders, checking for potential injuries while Zoro stares at him in blatant confusion.

“Cook, what the hell?” He demands, squirming under the onslaught of Sanji’s invasive touching.

“Sorry, sorry!” Sanji yelps. His face heating, he yanks his hands back and fists them in his hair instead, tugging at the blond strands the same way he used to as a frightened child. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Zoro. I should never have left you out here this long.”

“Say what?” Zoro blinks up at him, his lone grey eye narrowed in confusion. “Where else would you have left me?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Sanji practically wails. “You’ve been alone out here for two days, you must be fucking starving, and all that with the storm and you being hurt - I should have done something.”

“I mean, I could eat,” Zoro admits, eyeing Sanji with open concern, “but there was nothing you could have done about the storm and I’m sure you had a good reason for the day before. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Fuck, don’t say that,” Sanji chokes out. “I should have thought ahead better and left you with more than what I did. Here, I brought plenty today, so start eating.”

Shoving the basket closer to Zoro, he sits on the rock, practically vibrating with nervous energy as he waits for the merman to open it up. Then he slaps the rock impatiently again when nothing happens. “What are you waiting for? Eat!”

“I will,” Zoro says slowly, “but not until you tell me what’s going on. What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me is that I’m the only thing keeping you from wasting away out here and I fucked it up because I was too stupid to plan ahead. Now eat, damnit!”

“Sanji.” Zoro’s voice is soft as he lifts himself further out of the water, one hand curling around Sanji’s ankle in a grip that’s no doubt meant to be reassuring. “Take a breath, okay? And tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“I just - ” Sanji gasps, horrified to find tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. “I can’t fail someone again.”

“You - alright, I’ll be the first person to admit I’m probably not equipped to have this conversation, but fuck it. I’m the only one here.” Without releasing his grip on Sanji, Zoro flips the basket open one-handed and takes out a handful of rice crackers, chomping down on one easily. “I’ll eat, but you have to talk. Walk me through this.”

“I can’t - you do not want to hear this story,” Sanji insists, dashing a hand over his face before the tears can actually fall. “It’s miserable and - and pathetic . You’ll never look at me the same way again.”

“Pretty sure I’m the only one who gets to decide that,” Zoro says. He loosens his holds slightly, but keeps his hand where it is, a couple of his fingers starting to stroke comfortingly as he swallows another cracker after barely bothering to chew it. “Talk to me, cook. What do you mean when you say you can’t fail someone again? Who did you fail?”

“My father,” Sanji groans, burying his face in his hands as he’s assaulted by a wave of memories. “My real father. Not Judge, he’s just someone I’m unlucky enough to share blood with.”

“Tell me what you mean by that.” 

Zoro’s tone leaves no room for argument, and when Sanji raises his head he finds the merman staring at him with a gaze that’s radiating intensity. He licks suddenly dry lips. “This is not a happy story,” he says, wanting to give the other man one last chance at a way out. “Or a short one.”

Predictably, Zoro doesn’t take it. Having finished with the crackers, he moves on to a bowl of strawberries Sanji had packed on a whim. “I’ve got nowhere else to be. And I’m fine , for the record. I just hid out in the drain and slept a lot. So shut up about failing me, and tell me what’s wrong.”

Heaving a sigh, Sanji wraps his arms around his legs and rests his chin on top of his knees. “I might need to stop at times,” he warns.

“That’s okay.”

“Of course it is,” Sanji mutters, weakly amused in spite of himself. Hugging his knees to his chest, he considers lighting a cigarette but decides against it. Instead, he blows out another harsh breath and starts to talk.

“Judge is … insane. Maybe not in the typical sense, but there’s something wrong with him and his ideals, which are, to put it bluntly, really fucked up. He wants an unstoppable army so he can take back the North Blue, and he’s willing to go to any means necessary to get it.”

“Including,” Sanji adds faintly, “experimenting on his own kids.”

All of a sudden he can’t look at Zoro any longer. Closing his eyes, he tries to will himself into calming down. “He did something to us, or tried to, is a better way of putting it. My brothers, they’re not normal. They don’t bleed, they don’t get sick, and they don’t feel anything . They are all unnaturally strong, emotionless husks, and it makes them the perfect killing machines. Even Reiju isn’t quite right thanks to whatever Judge did to her. She’s got more humanity than the others, but that’s about it.”

“I’m not like that,” he says bitterly. “I bleed all the time and I feel everything. Whatever Judge tried to do didn’t work on me, and he’s never let me forget it. I’m the single greatest failure of his life, which is, just so you’re aware, a direct quote.”

Zoro’s hand on his ankle tightens to a point that’s almost painful, and the merman lets out an angry hiss that echoes between them. “He’s wrong. You’re perfect.”

“Finish your breakfast,” Sanji says because he can’t handle distractions right now. “Whatever you think, I’m a failure in his eyes, always have been, and the only reason he even kept me around was because my mother didn’t share that sentiment and loved me dearly.”

“She died when I was eight.”

Zoro lets out a low croon that’s clearly meant to be comforting, but thankfully doesn’t say anything. Grateful, Sanji surges forward.

“Judge did not take kindly to the fact that I missed her, and soon realized that with her no longer around he had no one to protest getting rid of me. So, he locked me in a dark, freezing cold cell in the dungeons and left me there for months.”

“At first the only people I ever saw were the guards who would bring me food, but after a little while my brothers figured out where I was. They used to take the key and come kick the crap out of me since nobody cared enough to stop them.”

Zoro’s head jerks up at that, and Sanji laughs mirthlessly. “Yeah, usually Ichiji would hold me down while the other two wailed on me. It didn’t matter how much I cried or begged, they only ever stopped once they got bored. That was better than when they got creative, though,” he adds with a shudder. “Sometimes they used to shove bugs down my clothes or other slimy shit. I can still feel the little legs crawling all over me if I think about it for too long.”

“Anyway,” he sighs. “That time obviously sucked like hell and I was sure I was going to die down there. Then my sister somehow convinced Judge to let me out, but he told me he didn’t want to see me or hear me at all and to basically just make myself invisible for the rest of my life.”

“Which is what you’ve been doing ever since,” Zoro surmises, poor, innocent lout that he is, thinking that was the worst of it.

Greatly daring, Sanji reaches out and flicks the earrings hanging from his left ear. “That,” he says softly, “is only the beginning of the story.”

As Zoro frowns, he takes yet another fortifying breath. “When Judge said he didn’t want to see me, he fucking meant it. My siblings could do what they pleased with me, but I was not to be in his presence unless specifically requested. This included during mealtimes. Yours truly was expressly uninvited from dining with the rest of the family and was advised to simply figure something out where eating was concerned.”

“So this is when you learned how to cook.”

“Sort of,” Sanji corrects. “I’d always been interested in it - yet another thing Judge hated by the way - and I used to make these terrible meals for my mother after she got sick. She always ate them, although crap knows what they did to her stomach.”

Smiling at one of the few happy memories from his childhood, he shakes his head before continuing on. “I figured fending for myself at odd hours when no one would be around would be my best bet, so I started sneaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night.”

“Which is how I met the new head chef. He’d come onboard when I was locked up, replacing someone who’d retired or died or some shit for all I know, and he’d turned the kitchen into his own private domain. I thought I was dead the first time he caught me in there.”

“I’m guessing you thought wrong?”

“Mhm,” Sanji nods. “Oh, don’t misunderstand me, the old geezer was terrifying and a right bastard on top of that. He towered over me, probably still would today, I think, and he was fully prepared to toss my ass straight out the door until I yelled that I was only in there because I was hungry.”

“I didn’t know it at the time, but he’d survived a pretty bad shipwreck not long before coming to work for us. He almost starved to death on some barren rock of an island, and it gave him some pretty serious views on making sure people always had enough to eat. Rather than kick me out, he fed me and demanded to know why I was having supper so late.”

“It never even occurred to me not to tell him. Hell, I figured everyone had to have known, but I guess he’d only ever been semi-filled in on the number of kids in the family because I had never seen a grown man get so angry so fast in my life. I’m pretty sure the only reason we didn’t both die that night was that he could tell how scared I was about Judge’s reaction should he confront him.”

“Afterwards, I figure that’s the end of things and I’m going to have to sort out another way to feed myself, when he tells me to come back the same time tomorrow and he’ll make sure to get me sorted. And then he keeps doing it, night after night. I genuinely don’t know when the man ever slept because he was feeding my useless ass every day at three in the morning and making me food to take with me when I left.”

“This went on for, I kid you not, years . Plus he starts teaching me how to cook for real - in hindsight I think because he was worried about what would happen if he wasn’t around - and he starts showing me how to fight.”

Zoro perks back up at this, intrigued, and Sanji rolls his eyes at the obvious interest. “Yeah, yeah, I do actually know a little something about defending myself, will wonders never cease. It’s not a style Judge would ever approve of, though. I can’t risk damaging my hands if I want to cook, so I use my feet, just like my old man taught me.”

If anything, this grabs Zoro’s attention even more. “The grate,” he says, eyebrows rising. “From the first day, I mean. I couldn’t understand why you went under the water the way you did. This guy showed you how to kick like that?”

“Yeah, and some other stuff too. I never really got a chance to use it in a fight, but I keep in practice so I don’t lose the skills.”

“Smart,” Zoro says, and Sanji flushes at the compliment. 

“Whatever,” he mumbles. Rather than launch back into his story, however, he shuffles awkwardly in place, suddenly plagued with a feeling of dread.

As if he can sense this, Zoro leans forward and blinks up at him thoughtfully. “This is where the bad stuff happens, isn’t it?” He asks. “Or the worse stuff, I guess, since it’s already really shitty.”

Mutely, Sanji nods. “We got caught,” he rasps, “and it was all my fault. I let something slip to Reiju and she freaked out. She was positive Judge would catch wind of it on his own and kill us both, so she tried to get ahead of it. In the end, nobody died, but we may as well have.”

“I was tossed back in the cell, vigorously so, and the only reason I got off that easy was because my old man took Judge on and nearly won. I learned from Reiju that the fight cost him his leg and they dumped him somewhere in the East Blue, so fuck knows if he even survived in the long run. Either way, I never saw him again.”

“How long were you in the cell that time?” Zoro asks. 

Based on his queasy expression Sanji figures even he’s not sure he really wants an answer, but he did ask. “I was fifteen when I went in, and seventeen when I got out. You do the math.”

“Two years,” Zoro hisses, his tail swishing in agitation. “You were in a hole underground for two . Years .”

“Plus the better part of a year from the first go around,” Sanji confirms. “I’m sure it will shock you to hear that I don’t like dark, damp places. Or bugs for that matter.”

“Cook, don’t try and laugh this off,” Zoro scolds, his tail flicking faster. “What happened to you, that’s - that’s terrible . You were a kid and your whole family tortured you.”

“An activity that most of them still enjoy,” Sanji points out, getting a splash of water to the face for his troubles. “I got let out the second time because Judge had a crazy idea that involved forming an alliance with an equally insane person via political marriage, but didn’t want to use one of his actual children for the job. The plan ended up falling apart, but I was already out by the time that happened, so I’ve been free and on my best behaviour ever since.”

“Or at least I’ve been better about not getting caught doing things I shouldn’t,” he amends. “Call it whatever you please.”

Zoro’s quiet for the next several minutes, no doubt busy digesting everything he’s just heard. He’s also finished off his meal while Sanji’s been talking, a significant dent having been made in the provisions Sanji had dragged out here.

The water around them ripples slightly as Zoro hefts himself out of the water. “What would happen,” he says quietly, bracing an arm on either side of Sanji’s legs and leaning in until their foreheads are almost touching, “if you got caught out here helping me?”

Sanji shrugs, surprised that he doesn’t feel caged in by the merman’s presence, but rather finds it more comforting than anything else. “I expect it would be a case of three strikes and you’re out,” he says just as quietly. “Either it’s the cell forever, or Judge kills me outright.”

“Damnit, cook!” Zoro snarls, punching the rock under them with a heavy fist. “What the hell have you been thinking? I’m not worth that kind of risk.”

“Of course you are,” Sanji retorts. “You’re my friend, aren’t you?”

He wishes he could take the words back as soon as they’ve left his mouth, hating how insecure they make him sound, but all they do is make Zoro roll his eye.

“Of course I am,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “But I wasn’t back when you didn’t know me, and even now that’s no reason for you to keep putting yourself at risk like this. You need to stop.”

Now it’s Sanji’s turn to roll his eyes. “Marimo, with all due respect, you will fucking die if I do that, and I refuse to let that happen. More importantly, there is straight up nothing you can do to stop me, so we’re both going to have to learn to live with it.”

Zoro lets out an exasperated noise, falling mostly backwards into the water as he glares up at Sanji. “This is stupid,” he grunts. “If you get yourself killed, I’m going to be pissed.”

Sanji scoffs. “If I get myself killed you’re probably going to be right there with me. No one in Germa’s ever seen anything like you, mossball. If Judge catches us, I might be in a cell, but you’re going to be in a lab, or worse, on a dissection table. It’s all or nothing at this point. Either we both get out of this alive or neither of us do. Judge will off the pair of us.”

If he’s expecting Zoro to take this for the warning it is, he is sadly mistaken. Instead, the merman opens his mouth in a dangerous grin, all of his overly pointed teeth now on display.  

“I’d like to see the old man try.”

*****

Sanji, probably as a result of emotional exhaustion, takes a nap in the cove that day. This is a direct reversal of their usual roles - he’s found himself more than once watching Zoro sleep in the shallow water with one hand hooked on something solid to keep from drifting away - but at least he finds himself feeling a little better when he wakes up.

Or he does until he finds Zoro looming over him with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Gah!” Sanji blurts, rolling to the side and trying to scramble out of reach. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” He demands. “And how did you even get this far out?”

“Crawled,” Zoro replies, unconcerned. Rather than answer Sanji’s other question, he then hooks a hand around his calf, squeezing the muscle tightly. “I wanna see something.”

“The only thing you’re going to see is the sole of my foot coming for your face if you don’t stop what you’re doing,” Sanji says, flexing said limb ominously. 

“Good,” Zoro says, apparently unaware that this is a ridiculous response. “Show me what you can do.”

“Show you - why?” Sanji asks suspiciously.

“‘Cause I want to see, duh.” Zoro pouts at him in a manner he probably thinks makes him look cute, but mainly just makes him look even dumber than usual. “Please?”

Sanji deflates like a stuck balloon, his ire fading instantly. He’s sure it says something about him that he’s caving the instant the merman shows a smattering of manners, and whatever it is probably isn’t good.

“Fine,” he grunts out. “Let me up.”

Zoro obligingly releases his leg and then slithers backwards into the water, leaving a line of disturbed earth behind him as he goes. Wanting to make sure he does as he’s told and that he doesn’t accidentally hurt himself while doing it, Sanji waits until he’s mostly submerged to move.

Climbing to his feet, he shrugs off his shirt, folding it neatly and laying it down next to his previously discarded socks and shoes. Then he turns back to Zoro, holding his hands out in the universal gesture for ‘now what?’

Zoro shrugs from his position in the water. “I said show me,” he reiterates imperiously. “You keep saying you’re not strong, but you broke that grate with one kick, and your legs feel like fucking granite, so put your money where your mouth is.”

“That is the weirdest compliment I’ve ever been given,” Sanji informs him. “Not that I’ve been given many in my life, mind you, but still. The point stands.”

“Cook,” Zoro groans, splashing the water around him in exasperation. 

“You’re a child,” Sanji retorts, “and I’ve had a very difficult day, yet here you are adding to my stress. You’re lucky I’m still here.”

“Prove it. Quit stalling.”

Biting down a groan, Sanji moves back to give himself more room to work with, before starting a few stretching exercises to help him loosen up. Only once he’s satisfied that he’s not going to mess himself up more does he really start to move. 

Without really thinking about it, he automatically slips into one of the first drills Zeff had ever taught him, his body moving fluidly as he extends his leg in a high kick that leaves him balancing on the other foot. He does this a few more times, before flipping into a handstand and rotating in a spin kick.

The ground is warm beneath his fingers, having spent most of the day baking in the warm sun. Taking a moment to enjoy the feeling, he does another spin just because he can, landing back on his feet once he’s done.

“Your form’s good,” Zoro notes from where he’s now sitting on the flat rock Sanji tends to prefer. “But that’s only one part of it. I said, show me what you can do, cook.”

“What are you doing critiquing my style?” Sanji demands. “You don’t even have legs.”

“I’m not critiquing, I’m asking you to put some effort in.” Zoro replies. “If you can tear down a hunk of metal with one shot, I’m betting that’s not all you can do.”

“Fine,” Sanji grits out. “If you really want to see something, hold on.”

Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and shuffles carefully from foot to foot, searching for the flare of heat he knows is in there. It’s been years since he’s tried this one, and Zeff had always warned him to be careful about how he did it.

The spark starts in the bottom of his heel, just a tiny pinprick of warmth at first, until it starts spreading. It grows and grows, gliding over the entire expanse of his bare foot until flames burst out of his skin.

He feels it as much as he sees Zoro rear back in surprise, but Sanji’s already moving. Taking a running leap, he tucks himself into a spin, arcing through the air until he comes down on a nearby boulder, effectively cleaving it in two with the diable jambe’s hit.

“Holy fuck,” Zoro says, sounding more impressed than anything else. “What was that?”

“Just a kick,” Sanji replies, walking back over to the shoreline. “Nothing special.”

“Bullshit,” Zoro says. “You’re telling me you can do that, and Judge thinks you’re weak ?”

“Judge,” Sanji says flatly, “has never seen that particular trick. Although, I imagine it wouldn’t change his opinion of me even if he had.”

“Then he’s an idiot,” Zoro declares. “Can you do it again?”

“I can do it as many times as I need to,” Sanji informs him, which somehow results in him pulling the same move another half a dozen times until Zoro is satisfied.

“Alright, I’m done,” he finally says, laughing breathlessly thanks to the exertion. “I’m not a circus act for your amusement, Marimo. You’ve seen enough.”

“Maybe for now,” Zoro agrees. “But you should keep practising when you’re here. I bet there’s more you could do with that move if you tried.”

“Oh, well, there is sort of a second half to it, I guess you could say?” Sanji admits. “The two moves aren’t really related, but I have to concentrate the same way to make them work.”

“Show me,” Zoro demands.

“Tyrant,” Sanji replies, but nevertheless kicks off in a skywalk that sets the merman whooping. “Would you believe I learned this one running away from my brothers?” He says as he climbs. “You should have seen the three of them wondering where the hell I’d gone without realizing I was above them.”

“How’d you get back down again?” Zoro wants to know.

“There’s two ways,” Sanji calls back. “I can either run in the opposite direction, or,” laughing, he hikes his legs up and lets gravity take over, only restarting the kick when he’s mere inches away from the ground. “Like that.”

Zoro nods, satisfied. “I don’t care what you say, with moves like that you’d be damn useful in a fight.”

“Yeah, and who pray tell am I going to be fighting?” Sanji asks. Dropping down next to his discarded clothes, he starts tugging his socks onto his feet upon noticing how late it’s getting. 

“Dunno yet,” Zoro replies cryptically, “but we’ll figure it out.”

“You’re a weird one, mossball,” Sanji says. Finishing with his socks and shoes, he stands with his shirt in hand. “I brought you a bunch of extra food as you know, but be careful how you use it. We’re getting closer to Kostas every day, and Reiju showing up unannounced like she did is all the proof we need that plans can change.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Zoro says, definitely not taking the warning as seriously as Sanji would like. “I’ll keep an eye out, I promise.”

Figuring that’s going to have to do, Sanji hauls his shirt over his head, grabs the empty basket, and turns to leave.

*****

True to his word, Zoro doesn’t let up when it comes to seeing Sanji fighting skills (or lack thereof) in action. He wheedles demonstrations out of him whenever he comes to visit, claiming it’s one of the few interesting things he has going for him stuck as he is.

Sanji’s initially reluctant. Plagued by both uncomfortable memories and the concern of somehow being spotted, he protests each time. Admittedly, it’s purely a token thing, one that gets weaker and weaker whenever Zoro asks. By the time another week has passed, he’s virtually given up entirely. 

He coaxes stories out of Zoro in return, tales of the friends he travels with (or his crew, as he likes to call them), along with others they’ve met along the way. Sanji’s careful not to ask for specific details - the concern of getting caught and forced to give up information never far from his mind - but what he does learn sets off a sense of longing in him unlike anything he’s ever felt before.

Whatever he might like to call them, it’s obvious that what Zoro has is in fact a family . Even when he’s rolling his eye when mentioning a specific set of antics or grumbling in annoyance as he talks about being bossed around by someone he exclusively refers to as ‘the witch’, it is brilliantly clear that he loves these people and they love him.

Sanji doesn’t mean to feel jealous, but it’s impossible not to under the circumstances. He’d give just about anything for a smattering of what Zoro has, and the firm knowledge that he’s never going to get it sends his stomach roiling when he thinks about it too hard.

That doesn’t mean he wants Zoro to stop talking, however, and if the merman notices the way he’s seemingly of two minds over the whole thing, he’s kind enough not to comment. Instead, he’ll just offer up another story, usually one where he himself ends up the victim to someone’s prank or an alternative mishap.

He learns more about Zoro himself too, like the fact that the merman had a girl he’d once considered a sister who’d died in a tragic accident he refuses to go into detail on, or that he’s considered as mainly a combatant among his friends, often baring the brunt of protecting people when trouble crops up.

“That’s not much of a surprise,” Sanji decides when this fact comes out. “You’ve got the look of someone who’s seen a brawl or two in your time.”

Snorting, Zoro makes a show of gesturing at his scar-riddled body, going so far as to prod at the massive one that cuts diagonally across his torso. “You think?” He deadpans.

Sanji has to laugh at that. “No need to be sarcastic, Marimo,” he says around the cigarette he’s currently enjoying. “How in the world did you get that one anyway? It looks like you fought a meat grinder and lost.”

“Told you,” Zoro grunts, letting his hand sink back into the water with a quiet splash. “I challenged someone, the best in the world, and it turns out I wasn’t ready to take him on. This was his way of making that clear.”

Sanji swallows and finds his throat is suddenly dry. “You’re lucky he didn’t flat out kill you,” he says, the very idea making him want to be sick. “And that the wound didn’t take you out regardless.”

“Tch, it wasn’t a big deal,” Zoro says dismissively. “I ended up in a fight with a bunch of fishmen, like, the next day and it was fine. And as for Mihawk, he’s not so bad once you get to know him. I trained under him for a couple years afterwards. Learned a lot.”

Sanji blinks, positive he must have misheard. “I’m sorry, say that again. After you tried to kill this guy, and he very nearly returned the favour with interest, you decided to enter into some kind of mentor/mentee relationship?”

“It’s complicated,” Zoro says, his expression sobering considerably. “Something … really bad happened, and I needed to get stronger to make sure nothing like it ever happened again. We all did. I wasn’t above setting aside my pride under the circumstances.”

“I’m good at protecting people,” he adds apropos of nothing. “When you’re part of a crew, the best way to be successful is for everyone to have different skills that compliment each other. I’m strong, stronger than most, and I use that to protect those who can’t do it themselves.”

“Well, I’m sure those people also have things they can do that you can’t,” Sanji points out reasonably.

“Exactly,” Zoro agrees, nodding. “Like, I can’t navigate or cook or whatever, so others do those things while I do mine.”

“Cooking’s nothing fancy,” Sanji says. “Being able to protect yourself and others is a much more useful skill.”

“Wrong,” Zoro grunts. Behind him, his tail - now looking much better after a few weeks of quiet convalescence, flicks agitatedly back and forth in the water. “People can’t live if they can’t eat.”

“We’re not having this discussion again,” Sanji says, holding up a hand to forestall yet another of the weird pep talks Zoro’s taken to trying to give him in recent days. “You’re grateful I’ve been keeping the bottomless pit you call a stomach filled, I get it.”

“Cook,” Zoro starts, looking annoyed.

“Nope,” Sanji says, cutting him off a second time. Having finished with his latest cigarette, he flicks the butt away and climbs to his feet. “Now, back up, I’m gonna try the jambe some more. I feel like I’m getting better the more I do it.”

“That’s called training,” Zoro says dryly, nimbly avoiding the rock Sanji sends skimming towards his head.

“Asshole.”

*****

A few more days pass, and Sanji finds himself heading back to the castle with a spring in his step after another afternoon spent horsing around in the cove. Zoro’s doing much better, and even the thought of the merman’s inevitable departure isn’t enough to dim the enjoyment of watching him glide through the water like something out of a storybook.

The same, unfortunately, cannot be said for the three figures he sees standing in the courtyard upon his return. His brothers’ faces all light up when they see him, and Sanji instantly curses both their presence and the fact that he didn’t notice them in time to take a different route.

“You’re back,” he says stiffly, his heart thumping raggedly in his chest at the sight of those three faces, so similar to his own, yet not. “I hadn’t realized.”

“Why would you?” Ichiji says flatly, while Niji and Yonji smirk from where they’re flanking him on either side. “It’s not like we’re required to announce our presence to the likes of you.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Sanji sternly tells himself not to react, as he shifts the basket he’s carrying a little higher on his shoulder. “Of course not,” he says finally. “Why would you be?”

Niji’s gaze drops to the basket as it moves, his eyes narrowing behind his ever present sunglasses. “What’ve you been up to, little failure?” He asks. “You better not have been off feeding the rodents again. I can only imagine how Father would react to that.”

“I was feeding myself,” Sanji says flatly, barely managing to contain an eyeroll, although he is somewhat amused by the thought of comparing Zoro to a mouse. “I’ve been spending more time outside since the weather’s been good.”

“Doing what?” Yonji snickers. “Giving the trees something useless to look at instead of the castle walls?”

“That’s not even a decent insult,” Sanji snaps before he can stop himself. “At least try to use your brain for once, would you?”

All three of them tense, and Sanji curses inwardly for his slip up. He’s spent most of his life burying every desired retort so as not to bait them, but apparently just over three weeks of Zoro’s company has been enough to undo a lifetime of keeping himself in check. 

“You’re awfully mouthy today,” Niji says, sidling a little to the left, while Yonji does the same thing on Ichiji’s right. Sanji recognizes this move as one where they fan out and close in on him from three sides, leaving him next to nowhere to run. “That’s not like you.”

“I’m just tired,” Sanji grits out, shuffling backwards to try and keep them from boxing him in. “Sorry.”

Yonji scoffs. “What have you got to be tired over?” He demands, his eyebrows raised. “You spend your whole life sitting around doing nothing, while we’re off doing Father’s bidding. All you do is take up space.”

Sanji says nothing, but instead of being brought low by this well-known insult, he finds himself picturing Zoro’s reaction to it. The merman doesn’t think he’s useless. He appreciates Sanji’s food, his company, his willingness to help him when he’d been incapacitated. If he could hear Yonji now, Sanji suspects there’d be an awful lot of hissing and snarling going on, not to mention a number of insults directed his brother’s way.

He tries to keep this thought from showing on his face, but something must leak through because Yonji’s eyes narrow in a petulant glare, and the next thing Sanji knows his younger brother is right in front of him, the two of them barely inches apart.

“What’s going on with you?” Yonji demands, fisting a hand in Sanji’s white dress shirt and using his grip to shake him. “I don’t like the look you’re giving me.”

“You also don’t like the fact that I breathe regularly,” Sanji points out, idly wondering if he’s gone and lost his mind without realizing it. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”

Yonji’s eyes widen briefly, giving Sanji a split second to enjoy his brother’s obvious shock before a blow from the opposite direction connects with his jaw and sends him reeling. Out of sight, Niji’s annoyed growl confirms who’d struck him.

Spitting blood onto the stone at his feet, Sanji prods at his teeth with his tongue to make sure none had gotten knocked loose. Only once he’s satisfied the damage is contained to his split lip and aching jaw does he look up.

“Are you done?” He asks quietly. “Or do we have to go a few rounds of this? I’ve been hearing rumours that things haven’t been going well for you in Kostas, so I can understand the need for a different target.”

“Why you -!” Niji starts towards him, a fist raised, only to be stopped when Ichiji sticks a rock solid arm out to prevent him from moving forward.

“We don’t have time for this,” their oldest brother says. “Father’s given us our orders, and we’ve delayed long enough over this foolishness. Let’s go.”

Niji and Yonji both look mutinous, Niji especially so, but the reminder that they’re apparently under orders is enough to stay him. Shooting Sanji one last venomous look, he trails after Ichiji as their red-headed brother marches forward, his expression promising dire retribution as soon as the opportunity arises.

Unable to find it in him to care very much, Sanji heads in the opposite direction, back towards the castle.

*****

His jaw is positively throbbing by the time he reaches his rooms, so much so that Sanji regrets not stopping by the kitchens to see if he couldn’t scrounge up some ice to help with the inevitable swelling. Resigning himself to the idea that a cold cloth will have to do, he opens the door to his chambers, whereupon he’s only mildly surprised to find Reiju already waiting for him.

“There you are,” she says, climbing out of the chair she considers her own and landing lightly on her feet. “I was wondering if you might like to …” Her voice trails off as she gets her first good look at him, and her mouth goes pinched around the edges. 

“Oh, Sanji,” she says tiredly. “ Already ?”

“Way to make it sound inevitable,” he says, wincing as the words pull at his split lip. The damn thing had only just started to close over and now he can feel fresh drops of blood leaking out. “Give me a minute to get changed, will you? It’s all over my shirt.”

“I can see that,” she murmurs as he stalks past her on his way to the bathroom. “What happened?”

“I looked at them funny,” Sanji retorts. Rooting around for a clean cloth, he finds a dark grey one that hopefully won’t stain too badly, and shoves it under the faucet with the water turned down as low as he can get it. “Or perhaps without enough deference.”

“You’re irritable today,” Reiju observes from where she’s followed him and is now lurking in the bathroom doorway. “If you were like this with the three of them, I’m surprised a bloody mouth is the worst you walked away with.”

“Apparently they had better things to do with their time,” Sanji mutters around the cloth. It’s not as good as if it were real ice, but the cooler temperature is making a difference. “Judge has them off doing … whatever, I didn’t actually bother to ask.”

“He’s sent them to do a perimeter sweep of the island,” she murmurs, stepping in close and moving the cloth away to get a better look. “The situation in Kostas hasn’t improved, and he’s concerned about the possibility of the rebels attacking our territory now that we’re here.”

“I didn’t even notice the ship docking,” Sanji admits, shoving the cloth back where it’d been once she’s looked her fill. “Usually there’s a lot more fanfare. I’m surprised I missed it.”

“You didn’t miss anything,” Reiju replies. “The fleet’s stopped a few miles off the coast as an added precaution. Judge then called the boys and I back to regroup while he considers our next move.”

“Lucky me,” Sanji grumbles.

“Yes, well, at least the other three should be gone most of the night,” she says, still frowning as she peers at his jaw. “Judge has them scanning our entire main island for possible insurgents. It’s going to take hours.”

“On the other hand,” she says, her mouth quirking up in a faint smile. “Maybe they’ll actually find something and forget about you while they’re distracted.”

“This needs ice,” she announces then, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll go dig some out, and you keep cooling it until I get back. I won’t be long.”

“Take your time,” Sanji murmurs through lips that have suddenly gone slack. He watches until the door has snapped shit behind her, and then lets the cloth he’s still holding slip from now nerveless fingers. It hits the floor with a wet splat, but Sanji barely notices, too caught up in the whirlwind of panic that’s blossoming in his chest.

His brothers are doing a full perimeter search of the island, this island. Not the island of Kostas as Sanji had initially thought. They’re about to spend the whole night crawling over the centre of Germa, an act that’s going to put them straight on the path of the most vulnerable person in the kingdom.

He has to warn Zoro. Thanks to the way they’ve anchored off site, the merman is no more aware that the Vinsmokes have returned than Sanji himself had been. Even worse, there’s a solid chance he’s asleep right now. Zoro loves napping, and has mentioned more than once that it’s how he spends the bulk of the time when Sanji’s not around because he’s got nothing better to do.

The merman is out there all alone and completely exposed. If Ichiji, Yonji, or - heaven forbid - Niji spot him, they’ll abandon their plans in a heartbeat in order to chase after new prey. Whatever the risks, Sanji needs to warn him.

A quick glance out the window tells him dusk is fast approaching. That’s good in that it means Zoro will be able to swim off under the cover of darkness, but bad for how easily Sanji will be able to travel out to him. 

Hoping like hell that he doesn’t run into Reiju as he leaves, Sanji exits his room without stopping to think about what he’s doing. The important thing is that he reaches Zoro in time. Any questions that come after - and his sister will have them - can be dealt with once the merman is safe.

*****

Over the years of having to dodge his brothers’ unwanted attention, Sanji’s developed a keen sense of spatial awareness. Putting those skills to the test now, he waits until he’s out of the castle and away from the prying eyes of any guards who might be patrolling the battlements, and then breaks into a run.

The growing shadows around him make it hard to see the path under his feet, but Sanji’s travelled this route enough in his life, especially over the past few weeks, that he could probably do it blindfolded. Still, he slips and skids more than once on his trip out, at one point nearly faceplanting in the dirt when he rounds a corner too sharply.

An overwhelming sense of relief washes over him when he finally reaches the edge of the tree line, and the sound of nearby waves is practically music to his ears. It’s almost enough to drown out the sound of his own strained breathing and frantic heartbeat.

The sun has set by now, but a full moon is sitting high in the sky, reflecting off the water below and providing more than enough light to see by. The trek back to the castle might be an issue, but as he scrambles over the ground and throws himself down on the flat rock he’s practically started to call home in recent weeks, Sanji tells himself that’s a problem for later.

For the first time ever, Sanji doesn’t bother shoving his hands in the water to try and get Zoro’s attention. Instead, he hisses the merman’s name, slapping the rock beneath him in agitation until he hears the faint sounds of movement.

“Cook?” A groggy voice says, Zoro’s silhouette becoming visible as he rises up out of a section of nearby reeds.

“Oh thank fuck,” Sanji says, nearly fainting with relief when he realizes he’s not too late. Idly wondering why the merman’s not sleeping in the storm drain like usual, he tells himself to forget about it as he watches the lithe shape cut across the distance between them.

“You need to leave,” he says without preamble when Zoro comes to a stop by the rock. “Right now. You need to get as far away from here as you can.”

“Why?” Zoro wants to know, sounding more annoyed than concerned, and Sanji barely resists the urge to tear at his hair in frustration.

“My brothers are here,” he says roughly. “I ran into them when I got back to the castle tonight, and my sister told me they’ve been sent out to do a sweep of the island to make sure no enemies have followed them home. You need to get out of here before they find you.”

Having said his piece, Sanji sits back on his heels with a sigh, exhausted from both his dash out here and the emotional upheaval he’s faced in the past hour and change. He gazes down at the merman across from him, doing his best to commit his features to memory since it’s unlikely they’re ever going to see each other again after tonight.

He should say something, he realizes, the thought occurring to him unexpectedly. The merman has no idea what a source of comfort he’s become in the few weeks they’ve known each other, and Sanji’s going to be forever grateful to him for that.

His mind wrestling with the enormity of what he wants to convey, the words stick in his throat before they can get out. Groaning in frustration, Sanji leans forward on his hands and knees, urging his vocal chords to work.

The motion pushes him closer to Zoro at the exact same moment the moon, which had briefly been covered by a patch of cloud, once again becomes visible. This allows him to get a better look at the merman’s face, and, unfortunately, vice versa.

Zoro hisses, the same low, angry sound he’d made the first time Sanji had approached him. It’s not directed at him tonight, though, and Sanji barely contains a startled yelp when the merman leans up out of the water and cups both warm hands around his jaw.

“What happened to you?” He demands, his voice tight with barely contained rage as his thumb traces over Sanji’s busted lip. “Did they do this?”

“Of course they did,” Sanji says tiredly. He knows it’s a bad idea to give into the urge, but he curls his own hands around Zoro’s damp wrists, selfishly basking in the sense of a touch that’s not intended to hurt. “Which is why you need to get out of here. I’m not going to let something similar happen to you.”

“I can take care of myself,” Zoro says. Snapping out of whatever trance he’s fallen into, he releases Sanji’s face with a quiet huff and sinks back down into the water. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Too busy mourning the loss of contact, it takes a second for those words to penetrate Sanji’s heavily addled brain. However, when they do, he sits up fast enough he’s pretty sure he hears something crack in his neck.

“What do you mean you’re not going anywhere?” He demands, his stomach lurching in alarm. “You have to.”

“Can’t,” Zoro says succinctly, which is an absolute crock of shit and Sanji tells him as much.

“Your tail is leagues better than it was,” he says, knowing he’s right as he says it. “You’ll be able to get far enough away without hurting yourself, and we’re close to Kostas now. Worst case scenario, you can aim for there and hide out in some secluded area by the shoreline if need be.”

“Fine,” Zoro acknowledges with a shrug. “Technically I can get out of here, but I’m still not going.”

Sanji stares at him, looking for the words to properly convey exactly how much that is not an option. “You have to,” he insists, his heart pumping wildly in his chest as he searches for a way to make the merman go. “You have to be safe.”

“So do you,” Zoro replies, the words stealing the breath straight out of Sanji’s lungs. “And I’m not going anywhere until I can make that happen.”

“What - what are you saying?” Sanji asks weakly. “I can’t leave. This is - this is …”

“I swear to fuck, if you say this place is your home, I’m biting you,” Zoro informs him. “It’s a hell hole where everyone treats you like shit, and I’m not leaving you here.”

“I - I … Zoro that’s a nice thought. Really, it is,” Sanji says, “and if I’m being honest I’d like nothing better than to take you up on it, but it’s not realistic. You can get out through the water, but even as strong a swimmer as I am, I can’t follow you that far.”

“No shit,” Zoro replies. “You think I don’t know that? I’d have left days ago if that was an option. I’m just waiting for my crew. They’ll have been looking for me this whole time, and once they get here we’ll all go.”

Sanji blinks. “Zoro,” he says slowly, unsure of what the other man is having trouble understanding, “having one merperson or a dozen isn’t going to negate the fact that I can’t live in the open ocean. What do you want to do, pass me back and forth as everyone’s swimming? I still need to breathe, and also not freeze to death if the water temperature changes.”

Now it’s Zoro’s turn to blink. “What are you talking about?” He asks, confusion heavy in his voice. “I’m the only mer in the crew. Everyone else is human. Well, except for Jimbei. And Chopper. And okay, Brook and Franky are both sort of not these days, but they started out that way so it counts.”

“I - what?” Sanji asks. It’s slowly dawning on him that his refusal to press Zoro for details about his friends has potentially resulted in him leaving out some highly pertinent information. At the same time, he decides now isn’t the time to push.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says aloud, shaking his head after several moments of contemplation. “Whatever you were thinking, it’s too late now. You need to get out of here while you still can and forget about me. I’m not worth the risk.”

“Damnit, yes you are!” Zoro snaps, his voice tight with frustration, as he slaps an angry hand down on the water around him. “You absolutely are, and I’m not going. I’ll hide out under the water and it’ll be fine.”

“Oh, I sincerely doubt that,” a new voice says, curling out of the darkness and practically oozing with the prospect of anticipated cruelty. “We have rules about what we do to trespassers here in Germa, after all.”

Sanji chokes, the blood in his veins turning to ice and every hair standing up on the back of his neck, as he slowly stands and forces himself to turn around. 

“Niji,” he says, barely recognizing the sound of his own voice as he spots his brother standing a few yards away. “Of course it had to be you.”

Yonji he might have been able to bluff, and with Ichiji you never knew when indifference might get the better of him, but Niji? Niji’s going to delight in wreaking havoc simply because it’ll upset Sanji. He’s the worst of the siblings by far, possibly even surpassing Judge in his enjoyment of making people suffer.

Case in point, he’s striding forward now, each step carefully calculated to be as menacing as possible as he strolls over. Sanji tries to keep himself between his brother and Zoro as a barrier, but Niji clearly senses what he’s doing and shifts sideways to compensate, intent on getting a proper view.

“Well aren’t you an interesting specimen?” He drawals once he’s able to get Zoro fully in his sights. “I had no idea the little failure was keeping a pet all the way out here.”

Zoro starts to growl low in his throat, but Sanji holds up a hand to quiet him. “Don’t,” he says tersely, pleased when the sound abruptly cuts off. “You’ll only egg him on.”

“Don’t care,” Zoro mutters. Any other time Sanji would find his petulant tone amusing, but they are so deep in trouble right now it’s impossible to see out the other side. There’s no humour to be found in the mess they’re in.

“Hush,” he says then, and Niji starts to snicker from his place on the shore.

“You’ve really tamed it, haven’t you?” He asks, his eyebrows dancing behind the stupid glasses he refuses to take off even at night. “How the hell did you manage that?”

“I haven’t tamed jack shit,” Sanji growls, shifting in place as he waits for the inevitable strike. It’s only Niji here for the moment, which means he might still be able to distract him long enough for Zoro to get away. “I just know how to act like a decent human being.”

Niji’s eyes narrow, and he drops into a stance that years of experience tells Sanji he’s about to charge. Bracing himself, he shifts into a fighting stance of his own.

“He’ll come at me first,” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth. “When he does, you go .”

“What -?” Zoro starts, but the one word is all he manages to get out before Niji launches himself in their direction with a yell.

Having anticipated this, Sanji leaps as well, meeting his brother halfway and sending them both tumbling to the ground when Niji pulls back in surprise. Sanji rarely fights back when it comes to his brothers, so it always catches them off guard when he does.

Niji snarls as Sanji gets a knee in his stomach, but then returns the favour with gusto. Sanji wheezes as all of the air is forced out of his lungs, barely managing to dodge a furious elbow that was heading right for his temple. 

Rolling out of the way, Sanji scrambles to his feet, finding himself standing in a few inches of water. Not far away, he can see Zoro ducking in as close to the shoreline as he can get, his furious expression visible even in the pale moonlight.

“Get out of here, Marimo!” Sanji shouts, waving one hand in the direction of the cove’s exit and the open sea beyond. “You need to go.”

“I already told you, not without you!” Zoro snaps, and to Sanji’s horror, he cuts even closer to the rocky shore, the muscles in his forearms straining the way they do when he’s about to haul his bulk straight out of the water.

What the hell the merman thinks he’s going to be able to do, Sanji doesn’t know, but he is not having it. Praying the other man will forgive him, Sanji charges further into the water, getting a leg up and using it to send Zoro skidding back several yards.

“I said go!” Sanji yells above the merman’s outraged noises. Now standing waist deep in the water, he turns back to face Niji. “I’ll hold him off.”

“Like hell,” Zoro snarls, already rotating his body to come back around. “You’re not the boss of me, cook!”

No , Sanji thinks desperately. I’m not the boss of you, but you’re one of the only good things I have going for me and I want you to live . You need to go, you algae covered idiot.

“Zoro, please.” He groans. “Get out of here.”

The merman pauses in his furious charge, and for one glorious second Sanji thinks he’s convinced him to leave in time. Then he hears the sound of twin propulsor jets, and jerks his head up in horror just as Ichiji and Yonji arrive on the scene.

“Took you long enough,” Niji snarls as Ichiji lands nearby while Yonji hovers a few feet above the water. “I called you ages ago.”

“Ichiji wanted the two of us to meet up first and then come to you,” Yonji says, most of his attention on where Zoro is circling the water below him, the merman looking actively ominous for the first time since Sanji has known him. “Is that thing real?”

“Real, big, and pissed,” Niji confirms, sounding darkly amused. “Apparently it’s got a soft spot for the failure.” 

“Huh, I guess there’s no accounting for taste.” Snorting derisively, Yonji glides a little lower, cocking his head to the side as he watches Zoro’s movements. “It looks like a fighter, I’m surprised it’d have any interest in Sanji.”

He dips lower still, now keeping pace only about a foot out of Zoro’s reach. Or so he thinks. His tail coiling beneath him, the merman shoots upwards with unexpected force, curving one hand around Yonji’s nearest ankle, and using his grip to drag the man into the water.

Not even Sanji had anticipated how quickly Zoro could move, and both he and the two men standing on shore reel backwards as their thrashing brother ends up completely submerged. Meanwhile, Zoro adjusts his grip, his intention writ clear across his face as he refuses to let Yonji up.

Sanji knows their modifications allow his brothers to hold their breath for longer than normal humans, but they still need oxygen eventually. Add that to the fact that Zoro has the air of surprise on his side, and it’s not impossible that he’ll be able to drown Yonji if no one steps in.

“It’s strong,” Ichiji says out of the blue, sounding for all the world like he’s discussing something as mundane as the weather. “Still,” he continues on, “our father won’t be happy if we come back down one brother. Call it off, Sanji.”

“ He has a name,” Sanji snaps waspishly. “And I don’t own him. He does as he pleases.”

“Not if he’s got a weakness,” Ichiji disagrees. He nods at Niji. “Grab him.”

At first Sanji thinks Ichiji means to have Niji go after Zoro, but instead the blue haired man heads for Sanji himself. Not expecting this, he’s not fast enough to get out of the way, and his brother manages to grab him by the elbow, dragging him further out of the water and onto the shore.

Sanji struggles in his grip, but Niji’s always been best fueled by his anger, and he’s well and truly ticked now. They wrestle in the shallows for a few moments, only for Sanji to wind up with his wrists pinned behind his back as Niji holds him in an iron grip.

“Fucking let me go!” Sanji snarls, grunting in anguish when Niji cracks their heads together. “Bastard!”

“Same to you,” Niji retorts. Then he glances over at Ichiji. “Whatever you’re planning, you’d better do it fast. I don’t think Yonji has much time left.”

“I can see that,” Ichiji says darkly. He glares at the mess unfolding in the water for a moment before reaching into a sheath on his hip and tugging free a short bladed knife. “You said it’s got a soft spot for our little brother. Let’s test that theory out.”

Fisting his free hand in Sanji’s hair, he jerks his head back, exposing the underside of his throat as he raises the tip of the knife to pale skin. “Hey!” He barks, the word echoing around the clearing with the force of its utterance. “Are you familiar with the concept of an eye for an eye?”

Caught up in what he’s doing, Zoro doesn’t look over right away, but the moment he does, he freezes, his expression morphing into something that promises dire retribution if the opportunity ever arises. “Let him go!”

“No,” Ichiji says flatly, “but I’ll hold off on killing him provided you stop what you’re doing and come quietly.”

“No, don’t -!” Sanji starts, the rest of the sentence cut off when Ichiji presses down with the knife, grazing his skin just enough to draw a few drops of blood.

Zoro’s reaction is instantaneous. Both his hands let go of Yonji, who lunges upwards in a sputtering mess as Zoro backs away out of reach, the water churning around him as his tail lashes furiously back and forth.

“I did what you wanted,” he growls, his tone positively vicious. “Drop the knife.”

“You’re hardly in a position to be giving orders,” Ichiji says flatly, “but a deal is a deal.” Making a show of flipping the knife up, he raises it so Zoro can see it for a moment, and then tucks it back in the sheath he’d pulled it from. “Satisfied?”

“Hardly,” Zoro starts, but whatever else he might be about to say is cut off when a now-recovered Yonji dives at him. Unimpressed, the merman dodges the grab, popping up several yards away while the youngest Vinsmoke flounders in the water.

“Enough,” Ichiji says as the two combatants look to square off again. He points an imperious finger first at Zoro and later at Sanji. “This is getting on my nerves. Either come quietly, or I really will kill him. Believe me when I say our father won’t care.”

“No, it’s not worth it,” Sanji tries, only to be cut off by a heavy blow to the back of his skull. His vision swimming, he struggles to stay conscious as Niji’s voice rasps in his ear.

“Be quiet, failure. We’ll take it from here.”

*****

Sanji regains consciousness slowly, with an ache in his head that makes him wish he was still out cold. For a moment he thinks his stomach is going to rebel as he blinks awake, and it’s only as he tries to cover his mouth with a hand does he realize they’re shackled behind him. 

“You’re awake,” a voice says to his left, and when Sanji shifts in that direction he finds Reiju watching him with an unreadable expression on her face.

“What happened?” He murmurs, his voice sounding weak to his own ears. “Where’s -?”

“If you’re about to ask about the stupid fish, it’s not here yet,” says an annoyed voice he identifies as Yonji’s. “Father didn’t want us to kill it outright when he heard what we’d found, so we had to figure out how to move it.”

Ignoring the pain in his head, Sanji cranes his neck around until he can glare at his brother. “If I hear one more person refer to him as ‘it’, I will not be responsible for my actions.”

“You’re in no place to make demands, Sanji,” Reiju says, holding up a hand to keep Yonji from charging at him. “You must realize how Father’s going to respond to what you’ve been doing.”

“He’s your father, not mine,” Sanji grunts. 

Tired of this conversation, he glanced around, wanting to get a feel for his surroundings. He’d spent enough time as a child being poked and prodded by Judge and his minions to recognize one of the Germa labs when he sees it, but this specific one he’s never been in.

Based on the specimens and various sized pools dotting the room, it’s evidently dedicated to marine research. That’s not something Sanji had been aware was an interest of Judge’s, but he supposes the man doesn’t exactly keep him up to date on his projects.

Against his will, Sanji’s eyes are drawn to a large tank that dominates the centre of the room. Unlike most of its brethren, it’s currently empty of everything save water, but it doesn’t take a genius to tell what it’s about to be holding. 

A metal walkway lines the top of the tank, trailing around the edge to allow observers to look into it from all angles. A handful of men in lab coats are already up there, gesturing excitedly amongst themselves as they await the no doubt much anticipated arrival.

Sanji feels his breath catch at the thought of what’s about to happen. “Reiju,” he says, struggling against his bonds. “Reiju, you can’t let him do this.”

Something more akin to sadness than not briefly flashes in his sister’s eye, but it’s gone between one blink and the next. “I can’t stop him any more than you can,” she says, her tone deliberately inflectionless. “What were you thinking doing something like this?”

“He wasn’t thinking at all,” Yonji snickers from where he’s leaning up against a wall. “Just like usual.”

“Fuck you.” Sanji spits, but anything else he might say - not to mention Yonji’s reaction to the insult - is cut off by the laboratory doors sliding open and Judge marching inside with Ichiji and Niji hot on his heels.

“Not a word,” he says when he sees Sanji gearing up to give him an earful. “I’ll deal with you in a moment.”

Now turning his back on all of his children, the king of Germa motions to one of the scientists up on the platform, gesturing the man forward with a single wave of his gloved hand. “We’re bringing it in now. Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir,” the scientist replies. Sanji suspects it’s only the fact that the man’s holding a clipboard with both hands that stops him from saluting. “We’re ready whenever you are.”

Judge nods at Ichiji, who presses a button on his earpiece. “Go ahead.”

A hatch opens above the tank, and Sanji hears the sound of something heavy sliding down it right before Zoro drops through the opening. Spitting and cursing, the merman hits the water with a tremendous splash, instantly sinking to the bottom thanks to the fact that he’s still tangled in the net they must have used to transport him with.

As Sanji watches, he wriggles around until he can get one clawed hand into the fibres and rip his way free. Struggling out of the confines of the netting, he takes a moment to visibly orient himself and then shoots towards the surface of the tank.

“Close it, now!” Judge barks.

Up above on the platform another tech rushes for a control station. Grabbing at a prominent lever seated at the far end of the panel, she wraps a hand around the handle and snaps it downwards as far as it will go.

A grinding sound rings out, and several slits appear in the base of the observation platform, from which metal plating starts to slide out. The pieces lock together one by one, effectively creating a seal over the top of the tank, completely trapping Zoro inside.

The merman reaches the plating just as the last pieces connect, punching the spot with a heavy fist as it snaps shut inches from his face. Snarling, he then whirls around and comes darting back to the lower end of the tank, coming to a stop directly in front of Judge with his arms crossed and his lip curled.

“Impressive,” Judge murmurs, his gaze raking up and down the merman’s body. “You’re much faster than I would have expected with all that bulk. Though I imagine the buoyancy of the water might be a factor in your movements.”

Zoro says nothing, merely glaring back with all his might. Almost idly, Sanji finds himself wondering how well he can hear them underwater like he is.

Judge starts pacing around the base of the tank, his eyes still roaming over his latest prize. “Assuming your kind age at a similar rate to humans, you don’t look very old. Early twenties at most, I’d say. Yet it appears you’ve survived a number of significant battles in that short span.”

Zoro rolls his lone good eye, effectively answering the question of whether or not he can hear them. Sanji winces at the show of bravado, wishing the merman would exercise a little more restraint when it comes to baiting the enemy.

Luckily, Judge ignores him. His attention now focused on Zoro’s tail, he steps forward for a closer look. “That’s been injured very recently,” he notes, his eyes locked on the barely healed scars. “Is that why you’ve been sheltering on my ship?”

“I suspect that’s a fair assumption,” Ichiji says from where he’s now standing with Niji and Yonji. “Niji overheard Sanji trying to convince it to risk leaving before its tail was fully recovered, and we found a bunch of food containers stored in the area. It looks like the failure’s been keeping it fed while it healed.”

The frustrated noise Judge lets out is one Sanji’s all too familiar with, so he’s not surprised when the man rounds on him. His eyes narrowed and his mouth working like he wants to spit, the king of Germa draws himself up to his full height, his expression fierce.

“You were nursing it back to health,” he snarls. “Honestly. What is it going to take to break this sentimental streak of yours? Cats, birds, rodents - for your entire life you’ve been pulling stunts like this, no matter what kind of consequences I put in place for you. You’re a disgrace.”

Sanji meets his glare with his own sense of detachment. He’s not an idiot, he knows what’s coming. There’s no point in trying to plead his way out of it, so he may as well at least go down with his head held high. 

“Being called a disgrace by you,” he says flatly, “is a compliment from anybody else. I’ll gladly claim the title.”

Judge’s backhand opens his split lip for the third time tonight, but even as he’s hacking blood onto the floor, Sanji can’t find it within himself to regret it. Pressing his mouth to his shoulder, he tries to use the fabric of his shirt to staunch the blood, only distantly registering a vicious pounding noise over the ringing in his own ears.

It’s Zoro, he realizes dully. His face lined with rage, the merman is repeatedly throwing himself against the side of his prison, banging the same spot over and over with one burly shoulder. This goes on for several seconds before Judge raises a hand.

“Stop, or I hit him again,” he says, and just like he had with Ichiji and the knife, Zoro freezes. Pulling back away from the edge of the tank, he settles into the same position as before, only now his glare is even more venomous.

“Interesting,” Judge says then. “It looks like my useless offspring isn’t the only one governed by his emotions.”

“It did the same thing earlier,” Niji scoffs. “It was inches away from killing Yonji, and maybe even being able to escape, but it stopped to protect the failure. Stupid beast.”

“Yes, well, I can’t say I’m sorry about that,” Judge admits, once again eyeing the tank and its occupant. “I’ve heard rumours of creatures like this, but never had the opportunity to study one. I’d much rather have a live specimen than a carcass for research.”

“Which I suppose means I do owe you some small measure of gratitude,” he adds, nodding at Sanji. “As much as I loathe your pathetic reasoning, the fact that you kept it from starving to death is the only reason it’s here.”

“No,” Sanji disagrees. “The only reason he’s here is because you’re a monster who sees people as objects. He’s a person, not a test subject. You have no right to do this.”

“I have every right,” Judge snarls. “I own this land and anything on it. Which,” he adds, his voice dipping into a low register that promises all sorts of terrible things, “is why I can do what I’m about to do to you as well.”

“You have been given many chances to obey me, and yet you persist in ignoring my orders,” he continues on, working himself up further and further as he goes. “The weakness, the cooking, the rodents, the chef . Every time I think you can’t possibly find a new way to defy me, you inevitably prove me wrong. Well, no more.”

“You can keep your miserable life as payback for my new project,” he says, “but I have no intention of ever so much as looking at you again. You’re going back in that cell where you belong, and this time you’re going to stay there until you die. There will be no more chances to get out.”

With a wave of one imperious hand, he ushers Reiju forward. “Get him out of my sight, but take Yonji with you. I doubt it’ll take the two of you to contain him, but I’d hate to run the risk of him escaping if something unexpected happened. Is that clear?”

“Of course.” Reiju nods, her face impassive, and then reaches out to grip Sanji by the elbow. “Come along.”

He braces himself as best as he’s able, digging his heels in even if all it’s going to do is delay the inevitable. At this point, every second he can keep from leaving Zoro at Judge’s mercy is a victory in and of itself. 

Unfortunately, Yonji is far less interested in humouring him than Reiju is. Rounding on him with an annoyed huff, the youngest of Sanji’s brothers plants a hand between his shoulder blades and shoves him roughly. Having no choice but to cooperate, Sanji’s hauled from the room with no further fanfare.

The last thing he sees of Zoro is the merman slamming an enraged fist against the glass of the tank, his mouth twisted in a furious snarl.

Chapter Text

The sound of the heavy barred door sliding shut behind him reverberates throughout the hallway as Sanji steps into the room that’s haunted his nightmares for the past thirteen years. Oddly enough, however, the location now has only a passing impact on him in comparison to his concern for Zoro.

He hears the sound of a key turning in the lock, and turns around to find Reiju staring down at the small piece of metal, a visible frown now contorting her features. “Why did you do it?” She asks, suddenly clenching her fist around the key. “Sanji, why did you do something so abjectly foolish?”

“Because he’s an idiot,” Yonji supplies helpfully from where he’s reclined against the stone wall across from the cell. “You shouldn’t blame him, though. It’s not his fault he’s always been this way.”

Reiju curls her lip in a pale imitation of one of Zoro’s ferocious snarls. “If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” she says flatly. “Go away.”

Yonji straightens, glaring back at her with considerably more heat. “You heard what Father said,” he points out. “He wants me to keep an eye on both of you. Probably because he doesn’t trust you not to set the little failure free.”

“Which is a concern that has no basis in fact,” Reiju coolly replies. “I’ve never done that before, and I’m not about to start now. Therefore, you will give me the privacy I’m requesting, or I will take it by force. It’s up to you.”

Several seconds tick by as Yonji considers his opinions. When it comes to brute strength he’s second to none, even among their siblings, but Reiju’s poisons make her a special kind of nasty to deal with. Not to mention, she’s leagues smarter than him, and they both know it.

Letting out an exasperated huff, Yonji finally caves. “Fine,” he grunts, holding out a hand for the key Reiju still has in her grasp, “but I’m taking that with me to be safe.”

“If you like,” she agrees, as if she isn’t perfectly capable of snapping the bars with her bare hands if she so chooses. She tosses the key over, watching Yonji fumble to catch it with a faint smirk on her face. “Now go.”

She waits until the sound of Yonji’s footsteps have faded, followed by the sound of the door at the top of the stairs opening and closing. Then she whirls on Sanji, her expression a mixture of frustration and anguish as she wraps her hands around the bars of his cell.

“Don’t,” Sanji says before she can get a word out. “If I can live with it, so can you.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” she spits. “I know your life wasn’t perfect, or even particularly happy, but it was still better than this . I’m not going to be able to get you out this time, Sanji. You’ve traded away what little freedom you had for a damn fish.”

The kick Sanji lands on the bars sets them rattling, the noise echoing around the corridor as Reiju reers back in surprise. “Don’t talk about him like that!” He snaps, not caring who may or may not be able to hear him. “He’s not some fucking animal like Judge thinks or - or something to be experimented on just because he’s different. He’s a person. He’s my friend .”

“Fuck,” he rasps, all the energy draining out of him as quickly as it had arrived. He slumps forward until he can press his forehead against the bars, grasping them with both hands. “He’s my friend, and he’s going to die because of me.”

“That’s - that’s not true,” Reiju says, some of the anger leaching out of her voice as she tries to comfort him. “You’re not responsible for Judge’s actions.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Sanji groans. “He stayed for me. He had some crazy idea of the two of us getting out of here, but he was waiting for the rest of his family to track him down. If it wasn’t for me he’d have been gone days before you and the others got back.”

“While I can appreciate the nobility of that sentiment, he’d better hope his family doesn’t come,” Reiju says grimly. “Anyone else who gets caught sniffing around here is just going to end up in that tank with him.”

Her words remind him of the news he’d learned so unexpectedly, Zoro’s statement about being the only merperson in his crew suddenly repeating itself over and over in his brain. He doesn’t know how it’s possible for the merman to have been travelling with a group of humans, but if it really is the case then there may be a way to get word to them.

“Reiju,” he says urgently, “I need your help.”

“Absolutely not,” she says immediately, clearly not liking the look on his face. “Whatever you’re thinking, I want nothing to do with it. You’ll only make things worse for yourself, and I want no part in that.”

That’s unacceptable, Sanji thinks. His fate is sealed, but if there’s even a passing chance that something can be done for Zoro, he needs to take it. “Reiju, please,” he insists. “I can’t just let him die. I can’t .”

“All I need you to do is spread a rumour that Germa has a merman trapped in one of their labs,” he says, cutting her off before she can protest again. “If it reaches his friends, then at least they’ll know where to look. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

“It’s suicide,” she says flatly. “If I were to do that and get caught, I’d wind up spending the rest of my life in the cell next to yours.”

“Damnit, Reiju!” Sanji hisses. “We both know you’re good enough not to get caught, and if Judge tries locking you up, you can just bust your way out regardless. This is his only chance. At least give me that much. I won’t ask for anything else.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she mutters, but Sanji knows his sister. For all she pretends to be an emotionless robot like the rest of them, she is capable of feeling things like remorse and pity. He knows he’s got her.

“Fine,” she huffs after several seconds have ticked past. “I will see if there are any … comments to be made when I’m back on Kostas, but that is all I’m willing to do. Also, I hope you know that if the source of any rumours gets revealed, Father is far more likely to take his anger out on you than he is me.”

Feeling exhausted, Sanji gestures at his surroundings. “What can he do to me at this point that would be worse? Death would probably be a reprieve.”

“Do not talk like that,” she says sternly. “I can still change my mind.”

“And then I will beg you on bended knee until you change it back again,” Sanji replies.

She pauses, eyeing him with an open curiosity that leaves him feeling uncomfortable. “He’s really that important to you?” She asks. “I know you don’t have many people you care about in your life, Sanji, but you only knew him for a few weeks.”

“Feels an awful lot longer than that,” Sanji admits. “He’s … one of a kind, Reiju. I could live to be a hundred, outside of this cell no less, and I’d still never meet another person like him.”

Her eyes narrow at his words, while her mouth stretches in a thin line. “You make him sound like more than just a friend,” she tells him, her voice flat. “You talk about him more like a lover.”

Sanji blinks, barely able to comprehend what she’s implying. Zoro’s important to him, of course, but, “… he’s a merman, Reiju. Even if I were - which I’m not saying I am - it’d be impossible for us to have something like that. He’s my friend, and that’s all there is to it.”

She hums thoughtfully under her breath, the noise a clear sign that she doesn’t quite believe him. It’s insane, but whatever, so long as she keeps her promise and gives Zoro a fighting chance, she can think however she pleases.

“Just try, Reiju,” he says. “That’s all I’m asking you.”

Her humming trails off in a tired sigh, and her shoulders sag. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

“I’ll get your message out, Sanji,” she adds grimly. “But what happens after that is beyond my control.”

*****

After Reiju leaves, he doesn’t see anyone aside from the guards tasked with bringing him his meals for three days. The cell is exactly as quiet, cold and dank as he remembers, and he’s positive it’s only a matter of time until he wakes up to find some creepy crawler wandering over him in his sleep.

Shuddering at the thought, he hikes his knees up closer to his chest where he’s sitting on his poor excuse for a bed, wishing he had anything other than his own thoughts to occupy his time. As a child there used to be at least the odd book provided to him as a distraction, but it appears even that is going to be denied to him for this go around.

He supposes he should be grateful he’s been provided with some clean clothes. He’d woken up on the morning of the second day to a few neatly folded items being sent inside along with his breakfast, most likely a gift from Reiju given that his lighter and two packs of cigarettes had also been included. He’s already made his way through a pack and a half even while trying to ration them, but at least he’s no longer wearing a bloodstained shirt as he does it.

And there goes another thought he’d like to shy away from. Thinking about blood or injuries or anything of that ilk makes him think of Zoro, which, while usually a pleasant enough image initially, inevitably leads to him picturing all sorts of gruesome acts being performed on the merman. Hell, it’s been three days, for all he knows the other man is already dead.

That’s unlikely, he knows, telling himself as much as soon as the idea occurs to him. For starters, Zoro’s fearsomely strong, he’s not going to simply lay down and die because he’s in a terrible predicament. Furthermore, Judge isn’t the type to waste an interesting test subject that quickly. He’ll keep the merman alive until he’s satisfied there’s nothing more he can learn from him.

Not to mention, he thinks sardonically, his brothers know exactly where he is, and they’ll be all too happy to come down and gloat the moment the merman takes his last breath.

“Gah!” He hisses, pressing the palms of his hands over his eyes as that especially horrible image passes through his imagination. “Stop. Stop. You have to stop doing this to yourself,” he groans. “How the hell are you going to spend a lifetime in here if you’re already falling apart after barely three days?”

Unsurprisingly, nobody offers up an answer, and Sanji punches the mattress under him with a clenched fist. “Zoro believes his friends will come and that they’re strong enough to save him. Your job now is to believe in him.”

That much is perhaps easier said than done, but strangely enough it’s not impossible. Zoro had defied the odds in surviving until Sanji had found him in that cove. If the man’s stubborn enough to cling to the side of a moving ship all night while grievously injured, he’s strong enough to hold out against Judge.

“Or he better be, anyway,” Sanji says, having found himself slipping back into the habit of talking aloud in recent days. “I didn’t spend all that time looking after your stupid ass only for you to blow it at the finish line, Marimo. You’ve got to pull through this.”

Once again Sanji’s not expecting an answer, which is why he’s surprised to say the least when a faint explosion sounds in the distance. Shocked - the cells are so deep in the bowels of the castle that an event would have to be massive for the noise to penetrate this far - he scrambles off the bed and darts over to the door of the cell.

There are no guards around since they don’t bother coming any further than the top of the stairs unless it’s to feed him, so there’s no one he can call out to for an explanation. Not that he’d be likely to get one, mind you, the guards have clearly been told not to speak to him if the way they won’t even meet his eyes is anything to go by.

Chewing absently on the corner of his bottom lip, Sanji slaps the bars in front of him in agitation, desperate to know what’s going on. If this is some kind of attack, there could be any number of explanations for who’s behind it, but if it’s a one time deal, it could be something as simple as an accident in one of the labs.

That thought makes him freeze, the possibility of something new happening to Zoro flashing through his mind, but then three more explosions ring out in quick succession. Having been paying attention this time, Sanji - who knows the castle like the back of his hand thanks to spending virtually his whole life trapped in it - can tell they’re coming from the direction of the front entrance.

“Not the labs then,” he thinks, which sit underground in the centre of the island for maximum protection. “And probably not something intentional either.”

Which means it most likely is an attack. The question then becomes, however, is it Zoro’s friends, the rebels from Kostas, or an entirely different enemy? All three options are equally viable, but only one of them is going to be aimed at rescuing the trapped merman.

“Damnit!” Sanji hisses. Kicking the bars in frustration, he repeats the motion a few times just because it makes him feel better. Unless whoever’s here is looking for Zoro specifically, they won’t know to search for him. Even worse, if it’s someone intent on causing havoc for Germa, then the laboratories would be a prime target.

“Stupid fucking country,” he snarls, kicking the bars yet again. “We’ve pissed thousands of people off over the years, and I’ve got no way of knowing if this is a rescue attempt or an actual attack. Fuck!”

Fisting his hands in his hair and yanking, Sanji kicks the door one last time, startling when the bar he’s been focusing all his attention on snaps off and goes rolling out into the corridor beyond. He watches it rock back and forth for a few moments before it finally comes to a stop, lying there like something completely innocuous.

Sanji swallows as a new idea occurs to him. Whoever’s attacking the castle might not know to look for Zoro, but he certainly does, and he knows exactly where to go on top of that. If he can get himself out of here, he can use the attack as a distraction to head for the labs.

It’s a terrible plan, he knows, one that’s as likely to see him wind up dead as it is to have any chance of success, but if there’s even a glimmer of hope then he’s got to take it.

Willing himself to concentrate, Sanji forces himself to look at the bars of his cell, really look at them. He’d tended to avoid doing so as a kid, always so desperate to imagine that he was literally anywhere else, but now it’s time to change that.

They’re sturdy and well kept, neither of which is a surprise. Germa prides itself in being the top of the line when it comes to everything, including its prisons. On the other hand, the grate set in the storm drain had been much the same, in fact this appears to be the same kind of metal. Sanji’d gotten that out in one shot with barely so much as a second thought. There’s no reason he can’t do so again.

Shifting carefully from foot to foot, Sanji takes a moment to prepare himself and then slams his heel against the locking mechanism just as the largest explosion to date rings out.

*****

There are alarms blaring and people running in all directions as Sanji tears out of the stairwell and bolts in the direction of the labs. Most of them are servants, too panicked by the notion of an attack on their home soil to spare him so much as a glance, but even the guards he passes show no interest in him.

Glad that the guards in particular seem to be heading for the front of the castle, Sanji covers the distance as fast as his feet will carry him, praying like hell he doesn’t run into any of his blood relatives. At one point he swears he hears the sound of a raid suit’s propulsor jets, but whoever it belongs to is out of sight and evidently aiming for the real fight.

Relieved, Sanji doesn’t stop running as the crowd thins out. Instead, he picks up the pace, his feet pounding over the floor as each stride brings him closer and closer to Zoro. 

Finally, after what feels like ages, he reaches a familiar corridor, almost missing it entirely thanks to how fast he’s moving. Skidding to a halt, he takes a moment to get his breath back, and then aims for the room he’d been so unceremoniously dragged from only a few days ago.

The lab’s probably been emptied of all its techs and locked down in order to protect it, but that doesn’t mean it’s undefended. Much to Sanji’s chagrin, there are four soldiers standing guard by the doors, each one armed to the teeth.

They look up as Sanji approaches. He can practically see as each man thinks ‘Vinsmoke’ upon getting a look at him, before they all collectively realize which member of the royal family they’re dealing with.

“Got out of your cell, did you?” Says a man Sanji’s going to assume is the leader. He adjusts his grip on the rifle he’s holding, the men behind him doing the same. “His Majesty never gave any orders about you one way or another, but he did say to shoot anyone coming for the animal on sight. Guess that covers this situation.”

Sanji doesn’t so much as bat an eye, he merely keeps striding forward, fuelled by the confirmation that Zoro’s still alive. “If I hear one more person refer to him like that,” he says, his steps not faltering, “I’m going to make them regret it.”

“Then again,” he adds, slowing to a stop once he’s within reach of where he needs to be, “I’m going to make you boys regret a lot of things regardless. Go ahead, take your best shot.”

All four men pause, none of them having expected the cocky attitude, and it’s all the window Sanji needs. As they start to bring their guns up, he goes down, planting his hands on the floor and swinging into a spin kick that sends the soldiers tumbling to the ground before any of them can get a shot off. 

Allowing himself a faint grin as he lands back on his feet, Sanji eyes the unconscious quartet, wondering which of them, if any, has a key to get into the lab. Deciding he doesn’t much care - not to mention he’s short on time - he shifts his gaze to the locked door instead.

The shriek of metal as both doors go flying off their hinges and tumbling into the empty laboratory is one of the most satisfying sounds he’s heard in ages. Unfortunately, he’s got no opportunity to stand around feeling smug. Sparing barely a glance behind him, he ducks into the room and heads straight for where he knows the main tank is.

A number of the lights have been shut off, but between the ones that remain on and the glow emanating from the tank itself, it’s easy enough to make his way. Aiming for the ladder that will get him up on the observation platform, Sanji climbs it quickly, unsurprised when he arrives to find that someone had the foresight to close the cover before leaving.

Luckily, he knows how to deal with that. Keeping one hand on the railing that’s meant to prevent observers from falling into the tank, he follows it until he finds the main control panel. Remembering which lever he’d seen be used to trigger the mechanism, he grips it firmly and jerks it into the opposite position from where it’s currently resting.

A groaning sound of metal on metal rings out until, one by one, the interlocking plates that make up the cover begin snapping apart and tucking themselves back into their holding compartments. Eventually, enough of them are gone for him to make out the green tailed form drifting near the bottom of the water.

Ducking under the railing, Sanji lands on his knees on the platform, and leans over so he can plunge both hands into the lukewarm pool. “So help me god, Marimo, if you’ve been sleeping through this mess I’m going to feed you your own tail. Get over here.”

He’s not sure if it’s his words or the commotion he’s making, but either way, Zoro twists in the water, and the next thing Sanji knows the merman is streaming towards him with a few powerful flicks of his tail.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Sanji says as Zoro breaches the surface right in front of him. Not bothering to think about what he’s doing, he plants his hands on the merman’s shoulders, his fingers tracing over the warm skin for any sign of damage. “Come here,” he chants, dragging Zoro towards him. “Come here. Come here. Come here.”

Zoro apparently does not have to be told twice because he surges up out of the water, not stopping until his entire torso is in the open air and he can plant his hands on either side of Sanji’s kneeling form. “Cook,” he says, sounding relieved. “Are you alright?”

“Me?” Sanji gasps wetly, now cupping Zoro’s face in his hands, turning it from side to side as he searches for possible injuries. “I’ve just been sitting around on my ass all this time. Nobody’s so much as looked at me funny. You’re the one who’s been used as a science experiment.”

“M’fine,” Zoro says, butting his forehead up against Sanji’s own. “They barely left a mark.”

“They shouldn’t have left any mark!” Sanji insists, and the next thing he knows he’s wrapped in the bear hug to end all bear hugs as Zoro curls his arms around him in a punishing grip. “Fuck,” he says, returning the embrace with fervour, his fingers digging into the other man’s skin as he clings to him. “I was so scared I was going to be too late.”

“Wasn’t anything to be scared of,” Zoro murmurs low in his ear, one hand shifting to move in soothing circles over Sanji’s back. The merman feels like a damn furnace, so much so that even the water coursing off him and soaking into Sanji’s clothes is having no effect. “But wait, how’d you get in here?”

“The same way I got out of my cell,” Sanji admits, and he feels Zoro adjust his grip so he can try and lift up to get a decent look at the mess Sanji had made breaking into the laboratory.

“Heh,” he says, digging his jaw into the top of Sanji’s head. “I told you you’re strong.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can rub it in later.” Sanji replies. He huffs out a tired laugh as he pulls back, belatedly embarrassed by the force of his emotions even if Zoro doesn’t seem to mind. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

Zoro lets him slip out of his main hold, but doesn’t let him go entirely. One hand curves carefully around Sanji’s hip, while at the same time he keeps their foreheads pressed together, shifting in a move that Sanji categorically refuses to admit is a nuzzle.

“I’m fine,” he insists again, his tone obviously meant to reassure. “They took a few things, poked and prodded me a lot, but that’s about it.”

“What do you mean, they took a few things?” Sanji wants to know. Worried, he trails his fingers through Zoro’s earrings, noting that all three are still there. “You don’t have anything to take.”

Zoro shrugs, unconcerned. “Blood, spit, hair. They even nicked a couple of my scales,” he adds, shifting to show Sanji the spot where his left hip would be if he had legs. 

Nestled among the emerald green scales is a bare patch about the size of a child’s palm. Shuddering, Sanji reaches out and traces around the outline with his fingertips. “Does it hurt?”

“Nah,” Zoro replies. “They were quick about it, and I wasn’t putting up a fight.”

“That’s not like you,” Sanji murmurs, lifting his hand to card it through the damp strands of the merman’s hair, not willing to stop touching him yet. “What had you being so docile, mosshead?”

Preening under the attention, Zoro leans into the touch, making a pleased noise when Sanji scratches at his scalp. “They said they’d take it out on you if I didn’t,” he half slurs. “Couldn’t let that happen.”

Sanji freezes, his hand stilling along with the rest of him, and Zoro pushes back against him in an effort to make him start his ministrations up again. “You what?” He chokes out, hoping like hell he’d heard that wrong. “Please tell me you didn’t let them hurt you to keep me safe.”

“Did it work?” Zoro wants to know, his mouth curving up in a smirk when Sanji shrugs weakly. “Then fuck yes, I did, and I’d do it again to. M’not leaving you on your own anymore.” He murmurs, rubbing their cheeks together when he can’t get Sanji’s attention back on his hair.

There’s a storm of emotions brewing in Sanji’s chest that he has no idea how to process. All he’s certain of is that he has to get this man - this insane, frustrating, remarkable man - out of here if it’s the last thing he does. 

“Okay,” he says aloud, barely recognizing the sound of his own voice as he has to fight the urge to clutch Zoro to him once more. “That’s - we’re going to have to deal with that later because I never want you sacrificing yourself for me ever again, but right now we have to find a way to move you. How long can you stay out of the water?”

“Uh, for literally ever,” Zoro replies. “Which reminds me, there’s something I need to tell you …”

“It can wait,” Sanji says, hushing him with a wave of his hand. Craning his neck around, he tries to see if there’s a gurney or something nearby that he can maybe lift Zoro onto. “There must be a way to do this. I hope I don’t have to drag you in another net.”

“No, really, I can do it myself - ” Zoro starts, only to be cut off by the sound of a massive boom that echoes throughout the entire building. 

“What the hell was that?” Sanji demands, half expecting to see the roof start caving in around them. Instinctively, he leans over Zoro to try to shield him from any potential falling debris. “That isn’t like any bomb I’ve ever heard.”

“That’s because it’s not a bomb,” Zoro huffs. “S’a thunderbolt tempo. Means the witch is here. Which means they’re all here,” he adds, looking pissy. “She hardly ever fights if she can avoid it. I’m going to be getting shit for this for years.”

Sanji stares down at him, his mouth working soundlessly as another boom rings out. “That’s your crew?” He says, pointing at the ceiling when he finds his voice again. “Your crew is doing this?”

“Mhm,” Zoro replies, amusement lurking in his good eye as Sanji starts sputtering. “Like I said, that’s the witch and that stupid stick of hers. The stuff earlier was Franky, though. He uses bombs and missiles and that kind of thing.”

“I see,” Sanji says faintly. Telling himself this isn’t the time to lose track of their goals, he packs away his numerous questions, so he can return to the problem at hand. “Right. Great. Glad to hear we’re not being invaded by a second set of enemies on top of everything else. Now, can we please focus on getting you out of here?”

“It’s no big deal. I can - ” Zoro starts and stops again, only this time Sanji doesn’t hear anything. The merman obviously can, however, because he cocks his head to the side, and rubs an admonishing thumb over Sanji’s thigh when he opens his mouth to speak.

Ceding to the clear request to be quiet, Sanji strains his own ears until he can pick up the faint sound of footsteps, accompanied by a voice raised in evident complaint. 

“ … you look at this mess? What the hell has he been doing? This isn’t his style at all. Nothing’s cut up or slashed open. Everything is - aww jeez. Guards! There’s guards! Why are there always guards? Even unconscious ones. Why can’t it ever be …”

The voice trails off in an irritated huff, and when Sanji turns to look at Zoro, he finds the merman with a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. “Another one of yours?” He guesses, getting a pleased nod in return.

Still keeping one hand on Sanji, Zoro slaps the other against the observation platform and manages to push himself even further out of the water. “Oi! Usopp!” He calls, his warm breath gusting over the side of Sanji’s face thanks to their close proximity. “Get your ass in here!”

“Oh, well, would you look at that?” The voice says, rising higher in pitch. “Look who’s not dead! Glad to know we didn’t attack an entire country full of genocidal maniacs for no reason, except for the part where I never wanted to do that at all! It’s Wano all over again, which was bad enough, thanks. I’m pretty sure I’m starting to get grey hairs at the ripe old age of nineteen.”

“He’s wrong,” Zoro snorts, low enough that only Sanji can hear. “This place is nothing like Wano.”

“And I have no idea what that means,” Sanji replies. Behind him, the sound of footsteps is growing louder, the way they’re moving indicating that the person generating them is picking his way carefully around the mess left by the caved in doors.

“Oh this is nice,” says the voice now. “Uh huh, yeah, I’m loving the mad scientist vibes. Truly can’t wait until some weird mutant robot-animal mix comes flying out of the shadows to chew my face off. Zoro! You better have a good explanation for this! And no, you getting lost in the open ocean again doesn’t count.”

“I wasn’t lost,” Zoro barks, shooting upright and almost dislodging his hand from Sanji’s hip in the process. “I don’t get lost.”

“Right, that’s right, you never get lost.” Judging by the change in timber, it sounds like the owner of the voice has reached the ladder and is making his way up. “The ocean floor just moves. The same way the trees move and the roads move and the buildings move. I swear, if I had a berrie for every time I - oh, hello.”

Standing on the last step of the ladder with his hands curved over the railing in order to leverage himself onto the platform, is a man with a mass of curly black hair and the longest nose Sanji has ever seen. He blinks, no doubt surprised to see two people up here as opposed to one. “You’re new.”

“I - uh, yeah.” Sanji agrees, wetting suddenly dry lips. He glances down at Zoro, seeking confirmation. “You’re serious that he’s with you?”

“Since the early days back in the East,” Zoro assures him, which he supposes will have to do. “You can trust him. I promise. Well,” he adds almost as an afterthought. “You can trust him to have your back for the big things, he lies like a rug the rest of the time.”

“Hey!” The man squawks, offended. “The Great Captain Usopp, sniper extraordinaire, genius inventor, and commander of eight thousand troops, has never told a single, solitary lie in his entire life.”

Sanji looks at Zoro.

Who rolls his eye in response. “He’s a hell of a shot, but that and his name were the only bits of truth that came out of his mouth.”

“Everyone’s a critic,” Usopp grumbles. Swinging himself onto the platform, he wobbles a bit upon landing, having to adjust the straps of the bags he has riding on both his hips and the massive slingshot he’s carrying over one shoulder. “Who’s your friend, Zoro, and why are you in a fish tank?”

Sanji takes that as his cue. “My name’s Sanji, and he’s in here because the asshole king of this nation, who I happen to share a blood tie with, threw him inside. I don’t suppose you want to help me get him out?”

“Not yet, I don’t.” Usopp replies. “That’s going to result in an eyeful I can do without, and I’d rather minimize the damage to my retinas as much as possible.” Tugging at one of the straps over his shoulders, he pulls free the bag that’s riding on his right hip and tosses it down on the platform mere inches from Zoro’s left arm.

Zoro, that is, who glares at it distastefully. “Where are my swords?”

“With Franky,” Usopp says. “Who is waiting out in the hall and will not be coming in until you do what you’re supposed to. You know the rules - pants first, swords second.”

Zoro’s lip curls even further, making Usopp squeak. “Oh, come on,” the other man whines. “Don’t make me tell Nami. You know she’s going to increase your debt a bunch as it is, but the nudity tax is one of her worst.”

“Um, excuse me? Hang on,” Sanji says, waving an arm to get their attention. “Thanks. Now, I recognize that I’m the odd man out here, as you two are definitely having a discussion I’m lacking several details to be able to follow, but could we maybe focus on getting the helpless merman out of the big scary tank before someone comes along and fillets him?”

Several beats of silence pass, during which Usopp glances back and forth from Sanji to Zoro to Sanji again. Then he buries his face in his hands, while simultaneously letting out a quiet noise of exasperation.

“Zoro.” He says tiredly. “Did you perhaps forget to tell your new friend here about that little thing you can do when you’re not in the water?”

A flush spreads across the bridge of Zoro’s nose, and he sinks down in said water until it’s almost lapping at his chin. “Maybe,” he mumbles.

“Try, definitely!” Usopp yells. “Honestly, Roronoa, I’d ask if you had a brain in your head, but I’m too afraid of the answer.” He points a furious finger first at the bag and then at Zoro. “Pants! Now!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zoro mutters, rolling his eye as he finally removes his hand from Sanji’s hip with one last comforting pat and shuffles backwards. “Give me a minute,” he says, and then ducks under the water, diving until he’s almost out of sight.

“What the hell?” Sanji demands. About to lean forward, the only thing that stops him is Usopp shaking his head.

“You’re going to want to step back a bit, and probably look away too. It’s not exactly gross, what’s about to happen, but it’s unsettling.”

“Would you quit with the cryptic talk and just tell me what’s going on?” Sanji demands.

“It’s easier if you see for yourself,” Usopp informs him, and before Sanji can ask any more questions, Zoro shoots out of the water with a furious leap.

Having gathered enough traction to allow him to reach the railing above his head, Zoro grabs it with both hands and hoists his entire body out of the tank. Testing it experimentally, he flexes his arms a few times and then swings himself towards the platform tail first.

Whereupon he lands crouched on two very human legs with one knee pressed to his chest and the other braced on the metal beneath him.

“What the fuck?!” Sanji shrieks, nearly landing on his ass as he stumbles backwards in surprise. 

“Yeah, don’t take it personally,” Usopp says, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “I used to think he did it on purpose as a joke, but it’s happened enough times now that I’m pretty sure he genuinely forgets to tell people he can do this.”

Letting out an annoyed noise, Zoro straightens out of his crouch, which brings attention to a much more pressing concern. 

“You’re naked!” Sanji yelps, and then immediately considers drowning himself in the pool over how ridiculous he sounds.

“Yep, that would be the eyeful I mentioned,” Usopp says, rubbing his temples like a man who can feel a migraine coming on. “Please get dressed, Zoro.”

“Give me a minute, would you?” Snaps the now-former-merman. “You know it takes a second to adjust when I’ve been in only one shape for a while.”

“Maybe, but I also know your new friend here is going to combust if you don’t get your junk out of his face,” Usopp says grimly. “Do you want that on your conscience?”

“I’m fine,” Sanji warbles, glancing away when Zoro leans forward at an angle that presents a spectacular view of his backside. “Just a little surprised is all.”

“I meant to tell you,” Zoro says as he drags a pair of black pants out of the bag by his feet. “It’s just it wasn’t safe when I didn’t know you, and then I kind of …”

“Forgot?” Usopp supplies helpfully. “Like you always do?” He gives Sanji a commiserating look. “It was the opposite for me. I sailed with him for over a month before I learned he wasn’t fully human. We were at this floating restaurant back east and - ”

“Do not tell him about Baratie!” Zoro barks, his voice shockingly firm for a man who’s currently hopping from one foot to the other in an attempt to haul his pants up over wet skin. “I need to talk to him about that place, so don’t you do it first.”

“Uh, okay,” Usopp says, sharing a look with Sanji, who shrugs to indicate he has no clue either. “Right then. What happened to your feet?”

All three men glance at the limbs in question, and Sanji sees instantly what Usopp is getting at. Gouged deep into Zoro’s ankles, are freshly healed cuts that span almost the entire width of each foot.

He swallows heavily. “Those are from Niji, aren’t they? From where he hurt your tail?”

“Yeah.” Not appearing overly bothered, Zoro wiggles first one foot and then the other as he finishes doing up his pants. “That was the other reason I couldn’t switch when it happened. These would have been way worse in this form.”

“They look like they’re healing pretty well,” Usopp says, eyeing them critically. “Almost as good as if you’d had Chopper around to help.”

“Didn’t need Chopper, had the cook,” Zoro grunts, after tugging on a pair of sturdy black boots. “He fed me and - oi!” His mouth curling in a snarl that reveals his teeth have lost their pointed edges, Zoro looks up from where he’s rooting around in the bag again. “Where’s my haramaki?”

“In the washing machine,” Usopp says primly. “Where it has been every time someone’s run a load of laundry since you’ve been gone. That thing is disgusting. I’m pretty sure the only things holding it together are sweat and congealed blood at this point.”

“Whatever. I’d better get it back.” Hauling a dark green robe out of the bag, Zoro slips his arms inside but doesn’t bother buttoning it up, choosing instead to complete the ensemble with a red sash belted around his waist. “There.” He says, holding out his arms to allow for a closer inspection. “Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Usopp says dryly. Then he turns and yells back towards the hallway. “Yo, Franky! He’s got pants on!”

A booming laugh rings out in answer, and when Sanji shifts to look over the platform, he sees a massive man with bright blue hair, various pieces of metal attached to his body, and - notably - no pants to speak of beyond a dark coloured speedo, lumbering into the room. Somewhat incongruously, he’s also carrying three curved swords over one mountain-sized shoulder.

“Zo-bro!” He calls, laughing a second time as he gets closer. “Super glad to see you’re not dead, man. It would have sucked to have come all the way out here for nothing.”

“Great, don’t really care,” Zoro replies, snapping his fingers. “Give ‘em here.”

Shaking his head, Franky slides all three swords off his shoulder and grips them in his hands instead. Then he takes careful aim and tosses them in Zoro’s direction. “For the record, you told me to do this!” 

Moving at a speed that would put most of Sanji’s siblings to shame, Zoro’s arm lashes out and he snags all three swords from mid-air, tucking them into the sash around his waist so that they’re resting side by side on his right hip where he casually curves an arm over them.

Sanji stares at him, trying to reconcile this image with the version he’s known from the beginning. “Oh, you have so much explaining to do.” He says. “So. Much.”

“What, you want a proper introduction?” Usopp asks. “Most people recognize him as a human thanks to his bounty poster, but okay.” Jerking his thumb in Zoro’s direction, he rolls his eyes. “Roronoa Zoro. Also known as Pirate Hunter Zoro, the Demon of the East Blue, uh, the King of Hell - that’s a new one he picked up in Wano - and, oh, the future World’s Greatest Swordsman. First man recruited to the Strawhat Pirates by Captain Monkey D. Luffy, and he’s worth three hundred and twenty million, dead or alive. Are we all caught up now?”

“No,” Sanji says weakly, his mind reeling from this onslaught of information. “Not even remotely.” 

“Ignore him,” Zoro says, shooting Usopp a dirty look. “That’s just stupid shit people call me and stuff. I’m not any different than I was ten minutes ago.”

“I beg to differ,” Sanji snaps, offended by the sheer absurdity of that statement. “You have legs! Legs, Marimo! This is a brand new development for me. Never mind everything else, which we will be discussing at length if we survive this mess.”

“Fine,” Zoro sighs. “You’re right, and I should have told you. I promise, you can yell at me as much as you want later. Now, come on, we need to get the hell out of here.”

“Uh, ‘we’?” Usopp echoes, his eyebrows making a valiant effort to disappear into his hairline. “What do you mean, ‘we’?”

“He’s coming with us,” Zoro says flatly. “And joining the crew if he feels up to it.”

“What?” Usopp sputters. “You can’t just decide that! You’re not the captain! And you need, like, references and things!”

“I’m his reference,” Zoro snaps, “and I’m the fucking first mate, aren’t I? So I’m next in charge after Luffy.”

Usopp goes pale. “Absolutely no one here agrees with that.” He says. “Franky, back me up.”

“Wouldn’t trust you to lead us out of a wet paper bag, bro!” Franky supplies helpfully.

“Whatever,” Zoro huffs. “Luffy can make the call once this is done then, but we’re still getting him out of here.”

“Yeah, obviously, I know better than to argue with you when you’re like this.” Usopp says. “The others are providing a distraction out front while Franky and I were looking for you. We’re supposed to go join up with them now.”

“Fine, let’s go.” Zoro replies, and then he leaps straight off the platform without bothering with the ladder.

“Hey,” Sanji shouts, scrambling after him. “If you fuck up your wounds after all the time I spent keeping you off of them, I’m gonna kick your ass. Get back here, algae brains!”

“It’s cute how you think that will work,” Usopp mutters as he and Sanji climb down the ladder at a slightly more sedate pace. “He’s constantly rushing off into things, which combined with his terrible sense of direction means that we lose him on the regular. He’s probably halfway to the wrong end of the ship by - or not.”

Rocking to a stop once he’s done with the ladder, Usopp gapes at where Zoro is waiting not-so-patiently in the shattered doorway, fiddling with the hilt of one of his swords. “Oh my god, he listened,” he says, turning his wide eyed stare on Sanji. “Who are you, and can you teach the rest of us this witchcraft?”

“Usopp!” Zoro snaps, stomping his foot irritably. “Hurry up.”

“Wait!” Sanji says then. His mind is currently a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, not the least of which is that Zoro apparently wants him to join his crew, but among the seemingly never ending torrent, one particular item is forcing its way through.

“The lab,” he tells Zoro. “We need to destroy the lab so Judge can’t find a use for the samples he took from you.”

“If you want,” Zoro shrugs easily enough. He waits for everyone to step out into the hallway, and then nods at Franky. “Take it out.”

Flashing a double thumbs up, Franky presses a button on his chest that causes a missile launcher to emerge from his shoulder. Motioning for everyone to step back a fair distance, he takes careful aim. “Fire in the hole, boys!”

Safely out of the blast radius, Sanji breathes a quiet sigh of relief as the lab starts to burn. “That’s good,” he says, the heat from inside feeling oddly comforting on his skin. “I don’t know what Judge would have come up with, but I’m sure it would have been awful. It always is.”

“I dunno,” Zoro replies, thankfully low enough that the others can’t hear. “I can think of at least one thing he had a hand in that didn’t turn out awful.”

Sanji blushes. He’s starting to get suspicious as to the other man’s intentions towards him, and equally suspicious of his own response. Sternly telling himself that this is not the time, he shoves the matter aside to be dealt with later. Provided there is a later, of course.

“Like I’ve told you before, he would no doubt disagree. I spent a lot of time in labs just like this one, with him trying to come up with some way to ‘upgrade’ me the way he wanted. Fun stuff, let me tell you.”

“There are more labs?”

“Tons,” Sanji confirms. “I’m honestly not sure how many, but they’re all clustered in this area. Each of them with something nastier than the one before.”

“Hmm,” Zoro says, holding up a hand to stop Franky and Usopp as they move to leave. “What would happen if we destroyed all the others? I’m guessing Judge would be pissed.”

“And then some,” Sanji agrees. “If you destroyed all the labs - fuck, Germa’d be crippled. All they’d have on hand would be the soldiers and weapons they’ve currently got. There’d be no way to make more.”

Zoro hums again, and Usopp and Franky share a knowing look.

“What’re you thinking, bro?” Franky asks.

The question makes Zoro snort. “I’m thinking this place is a nightmare and the whole world would be better off if it wasn’t such a threat. I’m also thinking that I feel like taking back a bit of my own. How long before we’re supposed to meet Luffy and the others?”

“We’re already late,” Usopp replies, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

“Really?”

“No, I just don’t like where this conversation is going.”

Zoro mutters something uncomplimentary sounding under his breath, and looks at Franky. “Can you do it?”

Franky beams at him. “In all the time you’ve known me, when have I ever come across something I couldn’t blow up? If you can give me like ten minutes I can program some of my special little toys  to target where we want them to go and we shouldn’t even have to move further in. I can just set ‘em loose and they’ll do their thing while we take off.”

Matching his wild grin with one of his own, Zoro nods. “Do it,” he says, ignoring the forlorn noise Usopp lets out. “The rest of us will watch your back until you’re done, and then we’re out of here.”

“We better be!” Usopp mutters, but Sanji doesn’t miss the way he sidles closer to Franky and asks if there’s anything he can do to help with the project.

Sanji watches them work with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. “Judge won’t forgive this,” he murmurs when Zoro steps in close. “You’ll absolutely be making an enemy for life if you go through with this.”

“Like that wasn’t already going to be the case,” Zoro shrugs. “As far as I’m concerned, he started it.”

Sanji hums in agreement. “I guess he has been pretty shitty to you,” he acknowledges. “What with the imprisonment and experimentation and all.”

“Not what I meant,” Zoro replies. Seemingly indifferent to the fact that they’re not alone, he hooks his thumb and forefinger under Sanji’s chin, tilting his head up to get a look at the faded bruising on his jaw. “Couldn’t really see this mess since the lab was so dark. Looks like it’s healing up okay.”

“It is, yeah,” Sanji tells him, shuddering at the unexpectedly gentle touch. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“Shouldn’t have hurt at all,” Zoro growls. Dropping his hand, he curls it over the hilt of one of his swords instead, the intended threat plain. “We’re not just escaping. We’re sending a message.”

Mourning the loss of contact despite his oh-so-recent resolve not to think about whatever this is until they’re safe, Sanji shuffles awkwardly in place. “You don’t have to do this for me,” he says quietly. “I’m not worth - ”

“Do not,” Zoro says firmly, “finish that sentence. You’re worth more than everyone and everything else in this nightmare country combined.”

Having no idea how to respond to that - aside from possibly spontaneously combusting thanks to the way the words make his stomach lurch - Sanji opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by the sound of Usopp clearing his throat. Both men turn to look at the sniper, who in turn nods at Franky. “He says we’re good to go.”

Zoro straightens, anticipation all but visibly coursing through him. “Take them out,” he tells the blue haired man, who grins and presses a series of buttons on the inside of his wrist. “Then let’s go find the others.”

“Finally!”

Chapter Text

Usopp turns out to be freakishly fast. Having taken the lead after sternly telling Zoro there’s no way they’re letting him be in the front, he’s now running on ahead, while Franky brings up the rear. Sandwiched between them in the middle, Sanji finds himself mostly keeping stride with Zoro as they make their way to the castle’s main entrance, the sounds of the destruction they’ve caused still echoing behind them.

“So,” he says, grateful they’re moving at a pace where he can run and talk at the same time as he searches for a safe topic among the multitude of things he wants to say. “You have legs.”

“Sometimes,” Zoro agrees. “Actually, a lot of the time, but there’s no limit to how much I can be in one shape or the other.”

“I see,” Sanji says, taking a moment to digest this. “You’re also a pirate, and a famous one at that.” Distantly, he remembers his conversation with Reiju when she’d come back to report to Judge about their latest campaign.

We haven’t even met them all, several don’t appear to be present yet, including the first mate, who is by all accounts the equivalent of an army all on his own.

“Is your crew the one that’s been kicking my family’s ass in Kostas?”

“Dunno,” Zoro shrugs. “I’ve been with you the whole time, remember? Hey, Franky,” he calls, halfway turning around to yell at the trailing cyborg. “Did Luffy make friends with a bunch of freedom fighters again?”

Franky answers in the affirmative, and Zoro grins wryly. “Should’ve figured as much. It happens all the time.”

“Your captain sounds like an interesting man.” Sanji surmises.

“You don’t know the half of it. And, hey, now he’ll be extra happy about us taking down your shitty family.”

Sanji goes quiet for a moment, but then forces himself to ask the question that’s now at the forefront of his mind. “Do you really think he’ll let me come with you?”

“I know he will,” Zoro says, his tone as certain as any Sanji’s ever heard. “No ones going to make you do anything you don’t want, though. It’s just an offer, curly. We can drop you off somewhere else if that’s what you’d prefer. In fact, I think I might know a place you’d like to go.”

“I - ”

Sanji’s saved from having to answer this complicated question by their arrival in the great hall. As he comes to a stop beside Usopp, Zoro skidding up next to him, he gapes down at the chaos below from their position at the top of the stairs.

The bodies of dozens of soldiers, either unconscious or dead - he’s not sure, are littering the floor. There is crumbled debris everywhere, something appears to have blown out all the windows, and one of the two front doors is lying in pieces on the floor while a giant pair of bare legs is in the process of kicking down the second.

“Yeow,” Franky crows as he finally comes up to join them. “It looks like my lady is having fun.”

Sanji’s confusion must show on his face because Zoro nudges him in the shoulder to get his attention. “Franky’s wife is a devil fruit user,” he explains. “The leg thing, that’s her.”

“I … see,” Sanji says faintly, even though he really doesn’t. Glancing back down at the floor he notes that most of his relatives are also in sight, though Niji is conspicuously absent.

Judge is locked in hand to hand combat with a dark haired man with a straw hat hanging around his neck. The man is slight and unassuming, but his limbs keep contorting in unnatural ways, stretching and snapping back and forth as he dodges blows from Judge’s spear. Eventually the man tangles himself around his opponent’s legs, and the two go rolling out of sight.

“Does he need help?” Sanji asks, worried when neither man immediately reappears.

“Who, Luffy?” Zoro asks, following his gaze. “Not likely,” he scoffs. “The guy’s taken down Warlords and Emperors single handed. He can take care of himself.”

Surprised that this is Zoro’s apparently infamous captain, Sanji turns back to the fray just in time to see Ichiji go flying across the room, propelled by a blow from a tall, heavyset fishman. His brother slams into the wall with a meaty thud, tumbling down to the floor in a shower of masonry and stonework. Unexpectedly, he doesn’t get back up again, but rather stays covered by the rubble.

“Atta boy, Jimbei!” Usopp whoops. “Nice shot!”

The fishman gives no indication he’s heard anything, turning instead to concentrate his attacks on a number of soldiers who are now charging at him. Batting them away like so many flies, he sends them scattering across the hall, tumbling in all directions while he barely breaks a sweat.

“Ichiji’s not moving,” Sanji murmurs, earning himself a knowing look from Zoro.

“He’s probably just out cold,” the man assures him. “Jimbei doesn’t kill unless he has to.”

“Wait, do we want these guys to live?” Usopp asks.

“I …” Sanji pauses as he thinks about how to answer that question. “I hate them and they hate me,” he says finally, “but I don’t think I actually want them dead.”

“Uhh, Zoro, are you okay with that?” Usopp wants to know.

“If curly says they get to live then they get to live,” Zoro says simply, stroking the hilt of one sword with his thumb. “I can take them down without making it permanent.”

Franky and Usopp share a look behind his back, Franky even going so far as to lift his sunglasses up for maximum effect. “Am I missing something here?” Sanji wonders.

Zoro shrugs, offering him a faint grin. “I didn’t get the name Demon of the East by being nice, cook. I’ve got a body count under me, and that’s just a fact.” His expression shifts, becoming something much more tentative. “That a problem?”

“No,” Sanji says, surprised by how little time he needs to think about it. “I trust you to do the right thing.”

“This is all very touching,” Usopp pipes up, “but I think someone better tell Nami about the whole no killing people plan because she is seriously about to fry that guy with the green hair.”

“Say what?” Sanji asks, following Usopp’s pointing finger just in time to watch as one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen hits Yonji with a sustained lightning bolt from a thunder cloud she seems to be controlling. A now familiar boom rings out at the same time, and Sanji glances at Zoro. “Is that a, what did you call it? Uh -?”

“Thunderbolt tempo,” Zoro confirms. “Damn thing hurts like fuck when she gets you with it, especially if you’re not expecting it.”

“Just stop dripping on her map, bro.” Franky suggests, wincing when Yonji gets hit with another blast. “Damn, what did that guy do to piss her off so much?”

“Probably flirted with her,” Sanji mutters, watching as his now slightly smoking brother falls to his knees. The red-head waits until Yonji collapses onto his side, and then slams the baton she’s holding between his legs. “… make that definitely flirted with her.”

“Gross,” Zoro says succinctly.

“Mhm,” Sanji says absentmindedly, now busy doing a quick head count. Ichiji and Yonji are down for the moment - Nami is in fact making her way over to their little cluster on the stairs - and Judge is still out of sight. Looking around he finds Reiju tangled up with a tall opponent, who on closer inspection appears to be …

“Is that a skeleton?!”

“Brook,” says a chorus of voices, and Sanji decides he is simply not going to press for details.

“Our dear musician is more immune to the lady with the poisons than the rest of us,” adds a new voice, and when Sanji looks over, he blinks at the sight of a tall, dark haired woman who’s somehow materialized on top of Franky’s shoulder. “It’s convenient in a rather macabre sort of way.”

“Babe!” Franky says, clearly delighted rather than surprised. “I was wondering where you’d got to. Are you having fun?”

“Very much so,” the woman replies, giving him a bright smile. “Yourself?”

As the two start chatting among themselves, Sanji gives Zoro what’s probably a rather beleaguered look. “Is that everyone?” He asks a little desperately. 

“Almost,” the man replies. “Now that Robin’s here it’s just Luffy and - fuck,” he breaks off, jerking his head back and forth as he looks around the room. “Does anyone have eyes on Chopper?”

“He was with me until that green haired guy showed up,” Nami says as she rushes over to them. “I don’t know what happened to him after that.”

Zoro swears again. “Robin!”

“On it,” she says. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she closes her eyes and murmurs something under her breath.

“What’s she doing?” Sanji asks, hoping the question isn’t a rude one.

“Robin’s devil fruit allows her to replicate her limbs whenever and wherever she feels like, including her eyes,” Nami explains, busy tying her hair back in a bun to get it out of her face. “She’s looking into places we can’t see from here.”

“Oh,” Sanji says. “That’s …”

“Weird as fuck,” Zoro declares, grunting when Sanji whacks him in the shoulder.

“Don’t be rude, you oaf,” he says. “The lovely lady is graciously acceding to your brutish demand, so the least you can do is show some manners.”

“Manners and Zoro are not typically things that go hand in hand,” Nami advises, ignoring the dirty look Zoro shoots her way as she finishes with her hair. “And who are you then?”

“His name’s Sanji,” Usopp says before anyone else can respond. “He’s somehow related to these people, and I think technically we might be kidnapping him.”

“Believe me, my dear, it’s entirely voluntary,” Sanji says when Nami gives him a concerned look. “I will be eternally grateful if you would allow me to leave this hell-pit with you.”

“Uh, sure?”

“Nami! Zoro!” Robin says then. “I’ve found Chopper and he’s in trouble.”

“Where?” Zoro demands, pulling two of his swords free, holding one in each hand. 

She points, and a tiny figure soon becomes visible in the distance, shrieking as a grinning Niji chases after it. Down on the floor, Jimbei knocks aside a bunch of soldiers, clearly intent on making his way over to his crewmate as the closest one to him.

“Back off!” Zoro bellows from his spot on the stairs. “This one’s mine .” He gives Sanji a look as he prepares to charge. “I know you said no killing, but how do you feel about a little maiming?”

“In his case?” Sanji asks incredulously. “Marimo, you can feel free to be as vicious as you wish.”

Zoro flashes a grin that’s positively feral. “Good,” he says, after which he somehow draws his third sword and places the hilt in his mouth . “The rest of you start moving. I’ll deal with this.”

“Did he just -?” Sanji asks weakly, watching with something akin to horror as the green haired man flings himself down the stairs and charges towards his approaching brother. 

“Yes,” Nami says, sounding tired. “It’s kind of his thing.”

“It looks terribly unhygienic,” he points out. “Not to mention unsafe.”

She gives him a pitying look. “I suppose it may have escaped your notice, but he’s kind of an idiot.”

Sanji returns her look with one of his own. “The day I met him, he ripped a spear out of his own body and then tried to swim away with multiple holes in his ravaged tail.”

“Ah,” she says, looking entirely unsurprised. “You get it then.”

Turning away, Sanji looks up just in time to see Zoro and Niji meet in a furious clash. Niji’s gloved fist connects with Zoro’s crossed swords and the two of them strain against each other for a moment before springing backwards and squaring off again.

Meanwhile, the little figure that had been fleeing Niji has made its way over to Jimbei and is now tucked behind the fish man’s leg, watching the battle with trepidation. From a distance, Sanji can’t quite make out what it is, but judging by its fur and horns he’s going to guess this is the other crew member Zoro had mentioned who isn’t human.

“We should get going,” someone says, effectively shaking him out of his stupor. He’ll figure out this latest mystery when he has time. “Everyone regroup and head for the Sunny .”

“That includes you, new guy.” Nami says, and it dawns on Sanji that she’s the one who’s been speaking. “Stick close.”

“But what about -?” He starts, sparing a quick glance at where Zoro and Niji are locked in battle. Not to mention the fact that there’s been no sign of the captain since he and Judge had taken their fight elsewhere. 

“Zoro and Luffy can take care of themselves,” she promises, as if reading his mind. Then she reaches out and grabs him by the elbow, seemingly intent on dragging him down the stairs if she has to. “Come on!”

“Yes, my dear!” Pulling his arm carefully from her grip, Sanji starts running along with everybody else. They catch up with Jimbei and the tiny crewmate (Chopper?), the furry little guy now perched on the fishman’s shoulder, and a rattling laugh sounds nearby as the skeleton arrives as well. 

“Are we leaving?” He demands, sliding a thin bladed sword into a purple cane and hooking it under his arm, all while not missing a single stride. “What a pity, I was rather enjoying myself.”

“You’re just saying that because you got to fight the pretty girl,” Usopp retorts. He’s digging one hand furiously in his sole remaining bag, and comes up with an unidentifiable pouch of something. As Sanji watches, he loads it into his slingshot, takes careful aim without missing a step, and fires it into a crowd of oncoming soldiers.

The pouch hits its targets dead on, billowing out in a cloud of dust that immediately shifts into a mass of dark green vines that wrap around the enemy, dragging them to the floor and preventing them from accessing their weapons.

Sanji blinks as they run past. “Have you got any more of those?”

“Tons,” Usopp says with a wink, already moving to reload. “I prefer more of a hands off approach when it comes to fighting.”

“He means he prefers running away and hiding,” Nami translates.

“Shut up, so do you!”

Even as they’re running, Usopp keeps firing off more of his pouches. Meanwhile, Franky’s shooting off blasts of his own, Brook once again has his sword free, and Jimbei and Robin are smacking down anyone who comes near them. For all this group is small, they are hellishly formidable.

Unfortunately, while Germa’s troops may be outclassed in skill, their sheer numbers are still something of an issue. They keep coming no matter how many men get taken out before them, and out of the corner of his eye Sanji notices a fresh batch streaming towards Nami and Usopp.

He doesn’t hesitate. Sliding around the running pirates, he leaps into the air and lands directly on top of one of the charging soldiers, bringing him down with a sharp kick to the face. Then he lashes out at the next closest, repeating the action until the entire contingent are down for the count.

He looks up to find several of the Strawhats staring at him when he’s done. Usopp looks particularly gobsmacked, what with the way his mouth is hanging open, but it’s Nami’s calculating smirk that makes him nervous.

“Is something wrong?” He asks, wondering if he’s made a mistake somehow.

Luckily, Nami simply shakes her head, although the smirk doesn’t leave her face. “Nope,” she says, popping the ‘p’ with an especially devilish glint in her eye. “Just putting a few things together, is all.”

“I see,” Sanji says, for lack of anything better. He gestures at the temporary hole he’s created in the soldiers’ ranks. “Shall we go?”

“Let’s.” She nods, charging on ahead while the rest of the crew follows her.

Sanji falls into step beside Robin and Franky this time, but spares a glance to where Zoro and Niji are still tangled up together. They’re exchanging blows at a furious pace, with Niji looking more and more annoyed the longer the fight goes on.

For his part, Zoro actually looks to be enjoying himself. Grinning around the sword in his mouth, he blocks a kick Niji aims at his head with the sword in his right and then swipes at Niji’s stomach with his left. The blade doesn’t draw blood, but to Sanji’s surprise it does tear a gash in the raid suit.

“Those things are supposed to be nearly indestructible,” he says. “How the hell is he cutting through so easily?”

“Our swordsman is extremely strong,” Robin replies. “Although, I suspect you knew that already.”

Sanji shrugs as best as he’s able given that he’s supposed to be running for his life. He doesn’t take his eyes off Zoro, though, confused because something seems to be happening to the man’s arms. At first he thinks it must be a trick of the light, but when it doesn’t go away he has to admit that both hands have turned coal black all the way up to his elbows. It also appears to have spread to the swords.

“What the hell is that?”

“Haki,” Robin says, giving him a winsome smile in response to his no doubt dumbfounded expression. “It’s a powerful fighting technique that a few of us can use - Luffy and Zoro in particular. I expect he was testing your brother’s limits and has now decided to get serious.”

Serious doesn’t even begin to describe it. Whereas initially the two men had appeared to be evenly matched, maybe with Niji having a slight advantage, the tables have now entirely turned. His brother is fully on the defensive, barely able to block each attack Zoro aims at him and completely un able to get off any of his own.

“He was toying with him,” Sanji realizes. 

“Perhaps a little,” Robin admits, “but Zoro isn’t prone to underestimating his opponents. He’ll have wanted to get a feel for this man’s skills before risking an all out battle. Although, having said that, he does seem to be taking this one more personally than usual.”

“Niji’s the reason he got stuck here,” Sanji says quietly. “He did some damage that left him stranded and unable to swim away.”

For some reason his words make her laugh, and she gives him another strange smile when he turns to look at her. “Zoro,” she says lightly, “doesn’t make a habit of seeking vengeance on his own behalf.”

“I …” Sanji doesn’t know what to say to that, so he trails off uselessly, pretty sure he can feel his face heating as he does so. Her expression now reminds him of Nami’s earlier smirk, and he’s starting to think these people know more than he might wish.

He turns back to Zoro and Niji, suddenly incapable of looking away from their fight. Niji’s suit is torn in several more places, his face contorted in rage behind his goggles, while Zoro is now circling him almost lazily, his white sword back in its sheath, but the other two still on full display.

As he watches, Niji lunges, clearly aiming to get in close so he can avoid the blades and do damage that way. Too bad for him, he mistimes the strike, and Zoro lashes out with a kick that sweeps his legs out from under him. He goes tumbling to the ground and can’t manage to scramble back up again before Zoro is on him.

Planting one foot on Niji’s chest, Zoro leans forward to say something low enough that’s impossible to make out at this distance. Whatever it is makes Niji snarl and try to grapple with him, but Zoro nimbly backs away. Then, with an absolutely vicious grin, he shifts his grip on both swords and plunges one into each of Niji’s thighs, shoving them in deep and then dragging them downwards, no doubt severing muscles and tendons in the process.

“That’s for my tail, asshole,” he says, his voice carrying just fine this time even in spite of Niji’s pained noises. Then he leans forward and whispers something that’s again inaudible in Niji’s ear, right before he drags the tip of the sword in his left hand across the downed man’s face, slicing it open diagonally from forehead to cheek, barely missing his left eye in the process.

Niji yowls, clamping his hands over his face as his ruined glasses hit the floor, blood leaking through his fingers while he thrashes back and forth. Above him, Zoro’s hands are returning to normal as he steps back, scoffing dismissively.

“Thought you’d be more of a challenge,” he says, “but I guess you’re all talk.”

Lowering his hands, Niji attempts to push himself off the ground, heedless of the blood running down his face and gushing from the wounds in his legs. Neither limb can support him thanks to the damage he’s taken, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to ineffectively claw his way towards Zoro.

“Give it up, would you?” The swordsman says, still looking unimpressed. “You lost and that’s the end of it.”

Sanji can’t make out Niji’s reply because his attention is suddenly gripped by a much more pressing issue. Judge and Luffy have just reappeared on the scene. The captain has himself contorted around the king like a pretzel, but as Sanji watches, Judge grabs the younger man by the throat and manages to fling him across the room.

Luffy sails across the entire distance of the hall, bouncing along the floor a number of times before he comes to a stop essentially on the doorstep, now the closest of them all to the exit. He lies where he is for a moment, seemingly catching his breath as Jimbei and Chopper - the two currently in the lead - reach him.

As Sanji watches, the captain gets to his feet, looking remarkably unharmed for someone who’s just suffered a blow that could easily kill a man. In fact, he seems to be trying to jump back into the fight based on the way Jimbei and Chopper appear to be pleading with him.

Supposing he shouldn’t be surprised, at least not based on what he’s seen of the rest of the crew, Sanji takes a moment to take stock of the situation. 

Most of the Germa soldiers in the immediate facility are either down for the count or pulling back, wary of these dangerous intruders. Meanwhile Yonji’s still out cold, and Niji seems to have joined him in oblivion for the time being. On the other hand, Reiju’s limping back towards the battlefield, one leg dragging slightly behind her, and the pile of rubble covering Ichiji is starting to shift ominously - no doubt signaling his oldest brother’s imminent return to the fray.

They’ve got a window to get out of here, Sanji realizes. The soldiers have backed off and Reiju’s the only one of his siblings who’s mobile at this exact moment. That won’t last forever, though, and if one or more of his brothers get back to their feet, they’ll attack again without question.

Luckily most of the crew have now reached the threshold of the doorway. As he watches, Nami, Usopp and Brook all cross over into the outside. Robin and Franky follow not soon after, which leaves only Sanji and Zoro - who’s only now shifting away from Niji - left on this side of the doorway.

Unfortunately, Sanji’s not the only one who’s stopped to assess the situation. Leaning heavily on the spear he’s managed to keep ahold of, Judge is letting his eyes roam around the ravaged castle, his expression getting more and more livid the longer he does so. Then his gaze locks on Sanji, standing in the middle of his own pile of debris, and his face contorts into a mass of incandescent fury. 

He spits something that is probably intended to be words, but instead sounds like so much rage. Both hands tighten on the spear, and for a second Sanji thinks his intention is to throw it at him , to finally do away with the failure that’s tainted the Vinsmoke bloodline for the last twenty one years.

Instead, he pauses at the last second. His mouth curving up in a sickening smile, he hefts the spear in one hand, changing course abruptly and now clearly intending to plunge the horrible weapon into Zoro’s exposed back.

Again, Sanji doesn’t hesitate. Never mind that he’s so close to freedom he can taste it, he knows with a sudden, breathless clarity that it won’t be worth anything if he can’t share it with Zoro. He’s had the idiot in his life for barely a month, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t intend to keep him there for every day after.

What that means for them, Sanji isn’t sure, but as he dashes back across the ground he’s just covered, his feet warming as he runs, he’s struck by the thought that maybe Reiju wasn’t too far off the mark when they’d spoken during that first night in his cell. Then he’s leaping into the air, sailing past Zoro, who’s staring at him with both eyebrows raised and his mouth open in a question.

Sanji never learns what it is the other man’s intending to ask. Flames burst around his feet, starting at the heel like normal, but this time travelling up to well past his knees as he twists in midair and kicks his former father directly between the eyes.

Judge goes down with a satisfying crack that Sanji’s going to be hearing in his dreams for years to come. His ridiculous war helmet shatters in half, the pieces shooting off in opposite directions as blood pools from a large gash on his forehead, flowing over his right eye, effectively destroying his vision. The damn spear likewise falls from his grip, hitting the floor a second or two before his knees follow.

Sanji skids backwards, a large part of him shocked by what he’s managed to do, and the only thing that stops him from tripping over his own feet is the fact that his back collides with a solid wall of muscle in his attempt to scramble away.

“S’just me,” a quiet voice murmurs in his ear, and then a warm, calloused palm settles on his hip, curling there protectively. “You okay, cook?”

Licking suddenly dry lips, Sanji forces himself to nod, even as he tries and fails to look away from where Judge is listing to the side, shaking his head like some kind of giant beast - stunned, but not yet down for the count.

“I’m fine,” says a voice Sanji barely recognizes as his own. “We - we should get out of here. He won’t stay down for long.”

“Dunno about that.” Zoro says, and when Sanji finally forces himself to turn around, his expression is thoughtful, while his single eye is dark with some loaded promise that makes Sanji shudder. “You landed a hell of a hit.”

“Yeah, well,” Sanji says lamely. “Desperate times and all that.”

For some reason that makes Zoro look pleased, his grip on Sanji tightening momentarily before he nods to show his understanding. “Let’s get moving. I want to show you the Sunny .”

“I - okay,” Sanji agrees. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Reiju digging Ichiji out of the wreckage. It won’t be long before at least those two are after them, so running certainly sounds like a good idea.

It soon becomes apparent that he’s faster than Zoro on land, maybe not by a lot, but the swordsman isn’t as quick on his feet as he is in the water, and he trails slightly behind Sanji as they dash out of the castle, cutting down anyone who tries to get in their way. Ahead of them, most of the crew are already out of sight and heading for the docks, although Franky and Robin are still visible.

“Surprised they managed to get Luffy to break off the fight,” Zoro pants in his ear as they run. “Wonder if the witch tried throttling him until he listened?”

“How can you keep using such a terrible name for that delightful woman?” Sanji demands in turn. He pauses briefly to kick a handful of soldiers out of their way and then turns back to his companion. “You’re a cad, Marimo.”

Zoro makes a put upon face. “You’ve known her for two seconds. Give it time.”

Grumbling, Sanji looks up just in time to see Franky and Robin round a corner out of sight. “We’re almost to the docks,” he says, relieved. “Thank god.”

“Doubt god had anything to do with it,” Zoro mutters, slicing through his own host of enemies as it becomes their turn to follow where the others have gone.

The Strawhats ship is identifiable the moment Sanji lays eyes on it. From its Jolly Roger to its cheery figurehead to its physical shape, he could not imagine a ship more different from those of the Germa fleet if he tried. It looks instantly inviting, and he’s reasonably sure he feels his heart skip a beat.

“That’s her?” He asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“That’s her,” Zoro agrees. 

“She’s pretty,” Sanji decides, which is in hindsight doing a disservice to his potential place of salvation.

For his part, all Zoro does is laugh. The sound rings out as they hit the wooden planks of the docks together, racing along until they can reach the spot where the ship is waiting.

Franky’s just scrambling over the railing as they approach, the rest of the crew already onboard, and Sanji can hear someone shouting orders as he starts to climb. Hands he belatedly identifies as Usopp’s reach out to help him, and the next thing he knows he’s standing on a grass covered lawn while Zoro clambers up behind him.

“Welcome aboard,” Usopp says brightly. “Hope you don’t get seasick.”

“I … grew up on a ship?” Sanji says, confused.

“Oh good. That should help then.”

Around them the crew is springing into action, Nami directing them from the top of a flight of stairs. “Alright, I’ve already got our course plotted. Jimbei, take the helm, and Franky get ready in case we need a Coup de Burst. Brook, help him with that by checking the barrels below.”

“At once, Nami dear!” Brook crows, scuttling off as Franky and Jimbei head for the front of the ship. “And may I just say you’re looking ravishing today. In fact, if you wouldn’t mind letting me -“

“Shut UP!”

“Yohoho!”

“Don’t ask.” Zoro says, his expression pained when Sanji turns to him with a question already half formed on his lips. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Um, okay,” Sanji says for lack of anything better. He can feel the ship starting to move beneath him, and is pleased to note that they’re already pushing away from the dock. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He’s more so asking the question of Zoro, but when he turns he comes face to face with a pair of wide brown eyes peering up at him from under the brim of a faded straw hat. He stares and the brown eyes do the same.

“Usopp says Zoro says you should join my crew,” Luffy informs him, which as introductions go is admittedly somewhat lacking. “But it’s my crew and Zoro isn’t the captain.”

Sanji feels his stomach drop. “Right, of course,” he says, having to resist the urge to tear his gaze away. “I didn’t mean to assume, and of course I wouldn’t try and force my way …”

“Luffy,” Zoro says, cutting off Sanji’s rambling as bluntly as ever. “He’s a cook. Best damn one I’ve seen since you-know-where in the East Blue. Better even.”

It’s like he’s uttered a magic phrase. Luffy’s eyes get impossibly bigger, his entire body vibrating like a plucked piano string as he goes tense all over. Sanji’s also pretty sure he’s started drooling.

“Why didn’t you say so?” The captain demands, his neck lengthening alarmingly as he shoves his face inches away from Sanji’s without actually bothering to step forward. “Can you make me meat?!”

“Uh, sure?” Sanji says, leaning backwards to try and get a little personal space. “Did you have anything particular in mind?”

“Nope!” Luffy says, slapping him on the back with a rubbery hand that technically shouldn’t be able to reach him. “Shishishi! I was already going to say you should join, but now you have to!”

“Uh, thank you? Wait.” Sanji blinks, certain he’s misheard. “You were going to let me stay even when you thought I couldn’t contribute anything?”

Luffy blinks right back, but now there’s a knowing look in his eye, something serious that Sanji suspects doesn’t get to come out very often. “I saw you fighting back there, you’re really strong,” the captain says. “And I know Zoro. If he says you’re supposed to be one of us, then you are.”

“That’s … maybe not the best recruitment policy?” Sanji suggests, yelping when Zoro whacks him on the back of the head. “What the hell, Marimo?”

“If you don’t like it then don’t say stupid shit,” Zoro retorts. “Luffy doesn’t make mistakes when it comes to the crew, even if his choices don’t always make sense right away.”

“That’s true,” Usopp pipes up. He begins counting off on his fingers. “Nami tried to rob us, Robin tried to kill us, Franky did rob us and beat me up, Brook nearly got us murdered by zombies, Chopper - ”

“I didn’t do anything but try to heal people!” Trills a new voice, and a tiny dark furred shape scurries across the deck in order to fling itself onto Zoro’s shoulder, where it promptly grabs him by the ear and shakes him. “And speaking of - what did you do to yourself now, you dummy! Usopp said you were hurt!”

“Were, past tense.” Zoro says, reaching up and giving the little … whatever it is … a pat on the head. “Say hi to the cook, Chopper.”

The animal turns around. It stares at Sanji, wrinkling it’s furry snout. “Hello,” it finally chirps. “Do you need a doctor?”

“I … do I?” Sanji asks, honestly not sure at this point. “I don’t think so?”

“He’s been locked up for three days,” Zoro cuts in, the traitor. “And before that his brothers were beating on him.”

“It was only a couple of hits, I’m fine.” Sanji protests.

“One of them tried to stab you!”

“So? One of them did stab you! You had holes in your tail.”

“That was weeks ago! It was weeks ago,” Zoro repeats, holding up a hand to try and ward off a panicking Chopper. “I’m fine now. I stayed off it like you’re always after me too, and just ate and slept because the cook harped on me if I tried to do anything else.”

There’s a noticeable pause as the remaining crew members silently digest this. Then as one they all turn to stare at Sanji.

Who takes a cautious step back. “What?”

“He kept him from running off ahead of everyone and getting himself lost too,” Usopp says slowly, like he’s trying to fit together a series of complicated puzzle pieces. “What are we thinking here, magic? Threats? It’s not bribery. We all know Zoro’s always broke.”

“Hey!”

“Well you are .”

“Uh, guys, I hate to interrupt, but we’ve got company. Look!” Still in her place above them, Nami points back towards the Germa fleet, where two figures are now airborne and streaming after them. 

“They can fly ?” Usopp demands, his eyes locked on Ichiji and Reiju. Behind them, a number of the snail ships are starting to advance as well.

“The suits can,” Sanji confirms, his attention focused on his brother and sister. Neither of them is moving as fast as they might normally, and Reiju in particular seems to be wavering, but they’re still gaining on them. “I don’t suppose you have any more cards up your sleeves when it comes to escaping, hmm?”

Luffy lets out another of those hissing laughs of his. “Of course we do!” He exclaims, waving his hands excitedly. “Nami’s already getting it set up.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll see in a minute,” Nami assures him. “How’re we looking, Franky?”

“Almost there, little sis, but still not quite ready!”

Nami curses under her breath, and everyone not currently occupied with a task turns to watch the approaching Vinsmokes. They’re definitely getting closer, but whatever’s wrong with Reiju is just as obviously getting worse.

Sanji doesn’t understand it. She’d been fine the last time he’d seen her, definitely the best off of all his siblings, so why …? His thoughts trail off abruptly and his eyes widen as his sister stutters in mid-air and then drops like a puppet whose strings had been cut, her body plunging into the ocean below.

“Shit,” Zoro grunts as she vanishes under the water. He shoves Chopper at Sanji, the little doctor squeaking in surprise thanks to the rough handling, and reaches to start unhooking his swords, his intention plain. “I can get her.”

“No.” His eyes locked on where Ichiji has frozen in midair, Sanji adjusts his grip on Chopper so he can get one hand free and fist it in the fabric of Zoro’s robe before he can start undressing. “I don’t think that’s going to be necessary.”

“Cook,” Zoro says, frowning. “She’s the only one of them who ever gave a damn about you.”

“I know,” Sanji agrees, still not looking away from the water. “And I think that’s what this is. Give it a minute.”

“We’re sailing further away.”

“I know,” Sanji says again. Ichiji is growing smaller as he continues to wait for Reiju to resurface, the act putting more space between him and the ship. “Wait and see who blinks first.”

“Huh?”

“You have to understand my family,” Sanji explains. “Judge is vindictive enough to not want me to escape, but he’d rather see that happen then lose one of his precious fighting machines, especially after what we did to the labs. I know that, Ichiji knows that, and Reiju definitely knows that. She’s not hurt, she’s bluffing to help us get away.”

“D’you really want to put money on that?” Zoro asks.

“I don’t have to,” Sanji replies. “Look.”

Enough time has apparently passed without Reiju coming out of the water. His face remaining impassive, Ichiji reverses course, diving downwards and hitting the water in almost the exact same spot where Reiju had gone under. The ocean churns for a few moments, and then he’s up again, this time with a limp Reiju cradled his arms.

As Sanji watches, Ichiji points himself in the direction of the main castle, turning away from their fleeing vessel as he carries his sister to safety. For the briefest of moments, Reiju’s fingers flutter in a tiny wave behind his back.

“She always did want me to get out of there,” Sanji murmurs. He shakes his head, unable to deal with the storm of emotions raging inside him yet. “That’s only a stall tactic, though. The ships will keep coming, and Ichiji won’t hesitate to come back again after he’s dropped her off.”

“Then we’d better put a little more distance between us, eh?” Franky calls from his position. “Ready when you are, Nami-sis!”

“What are you waiting for? Do it!”

Franky whoops and reaches for a control panel that Sanji can only sort of make out from where he’s standing. Flipping up a cover, he stabs a finger down on a revealed button, the motion causing noise to erupt all over the ship.

Nami tightens her grip on the railing. Usopp flings himself to the ground while muttering something about coming down with a case of terminal-hating-flying-through-the-air disease, and Robin seems to be securing herself to the deck with a bunch of extra limbs.

Sanji watches all of this unfold and gives Zoro a flat look. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“You‘ll get used to it,” the other man replies. “Keep a hold of Chopper. He can’t swim if he falls overboard. Same goes for you, idiot,” he adds, grabbing Luffy by the collar when he starts to wander off. “No climbing on the figurehead now.”

Luffy’s resulting whine is all but drowned out by a weird humming sound, and Sanji feels the deck start to creak under his feet. Disturbed, he tightens his hold on Chopper, who at least seems only moderately concerned, and wonders what else he should do.

Zoro’s there before he can get truly worked up. Looping one muscular arm around Sanji’s waist, he tucks him up against the broad expanse of his chest, managing to maintain a firm hold even though he’s still having to wrangle Luffy at the same time.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs low in Sanji’s ear. “I’ve got you.”

Sanji’s a little appalled with himself over how quickly those words spoken by that voice help him calm down, but the fact of the matter is, it’s more than enough to settle him. So much so, in fact, that he barely reacts when the ship lurches beneath them and lifts completely out of the water.

“It can - ?!”

“Only for short distances, but yeah.” Zoro’s sharp grin is distractingly nice this close. “Franky’s kind of insane.”

“What the hell have I gotten myself into?” Sanji mutters. He watches over the railing as the Germa fleet grows smaller in the distance, the Sunny not settling back into the water until the other ships are mostly out of sight. “Well, that was certainly unexpected.”

“Like I said, you get used to it.” Releasing his grip on Luffy, Zoro let’s the captain scamper off across the deck, but notably doesn’t give up his hold on Sanji, who likewise makes no move to wriggle free.

The crew is still buzzing around them, with Usopp moaning about his life flashing before his eyes and Nami and Franky discussing the merits of a second Coup de Burst to be safe. Meanwhile, Luffy’s made it to the figurehead and is now sprawled atop it on his stomach, while Brook is climbing back out of the hold, chuckling to himself.

“Does he ever stop laughing?” Sanji asks quietly, trying to focus on something mundane as opposed to the vast number of changes that have hit him in the past few hours.

“Yes, but usually only if he’s singing or screaming while running for his life,” Chopper pipes up. 

Startled, Sanji glances down at the crewmate he’d forgotten he was holding. “I’m sorry,” he says, face flushing with embarrassment. “You probably want to get down.”

“It’s okay,” Chopper assures him. “But you’re right. I should start doing check ups to make sure no one’s hurt.” His expression shifts into one Sanji knows is stern, regardless of their different facial features. “You’re going first, Zoro.”

Sanji hears a low whine from over his shoulder, followed by a sigh.

“Fine, but the cook’s coming too.”

*****

Chopper’s infirmary is small, but neatly organized and well kept. More importantly, however, it has a homey feel to it that is leagues away from the cold, harshness of the medical bays in Germa. It’s the first doctor’s office in Sanji’s life that he hasn’t hated on sight.

Zoro refuses to let Chopper take a look at him until he’s checked Sanji out first. Initially uncertain, Sanji eventually acquiesces to letting the reindeer (he’s since learned after finally giving up and just asking) do his thing. He’s quickly pronounced to be mildly dehydrated but otherwise fine, with no concerns being noted about the healing bruises on his jaw.

“Though you can always feel free to come see me if they start bothering you,” Chopper assures him. “But they really are clearing fine.”

Once done with Sanji, the doctor focuses the entirety of his attention on Zoro. Bullying him into giving up both his swords and boots, he stands in the middle of the room with his tiny arms crossed until the swordsman lies down on the examination table with an annoyed huff.

Perching on a stool he’s dragged to the end of the bed, Chopper carefully rolls back first one pant leg and then the other, prodding at each of Zoro’s ankles in turn. “Do they hurt?”

“No.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“Would I do that?”

“Absolutely.” Sighing quietly, Chopper gently lifts one foot up for a closer look, his hooves tracing around the edge of the scar tissue. “You definitely aggravated them somewhat during the fight. See how the skin is all red and puffy? You’re going to want to stay off them as much as you can for a few days.”

“That’s better than it would normally be in your case,” he adds when Zoro automatically opens his mouth to protest. “They’ve healed shockingly well given how bad you are for trying to do too much too soon. Maybe now that you’ve seen what a benefit proper rest can be for a serious injury, you’ll listen better, hmm?”

Zoro doesn’t say anything, merely stares impassively back at him, and Chopper sighs. “Yeah, that’s about what I expected. Alright, let me get you a salve to put on the cuts - it’ll help keep them clean when you’re in this form and maybe reduce the scarring a little - and then you can go.”

Based on his expression, Sanji doubts Zoro’s going to follow this advice, but he takes the bottle when offered, making a show of tucking it into the pocket of his robe where Chopper can see it. Then he hooks his swords back on his waist, bundles his boots under one arm, and reaches for Sanji with the other.

“Come with me,” he says. “Wanna show you something.”

Since he has nothing else to do, and would rather stick close to the one person on the crew he can safely say he’s comfortable with, Sanji nods and allows himself to be tugged along, throwing a quick goodbye over his shoulder to Chopper.

To his surprise, Zoro doesn’t lead him out the door they’d come in, but rather uses the one at the back of the infirmary, which turns out to open into a spacious sitting room dominated by a large aquarium. It seems like an odd choice for a ship like this, and he says as much.

“We use it as a food stock mostly,” Zoro admits with a shrug. “Live fish don’t go bad and it leaves more room in the larder. Plus, uh, well …” he trails off, his face flushing, and Sanji eyes the aquarium with renewed interest.

It’s big, he notes, definitely big enough to hold a lot more marine life than is currently inside. “Are you telling me that’s your room, Marimo?”

Zoro rolls his eye. “I’ve got a regular bunk just like everybody else,” he snorts. “But sometimes it’s nice to sleep in the water and I can’t do that in the open ocean when we’re sailing.”

“Makes sense.” Sanji admits, eyeing the aquarium anew. At least this one is much nicer than the tank he’d been trapped in on Germa. “It’s still kind of funny though.”

“Whatever,” Zoro mutters. “This isn’t what I wanted to show you. Come on. It’s through here.”

Obediently following, Sanji trudges after him to the other side of the room, where he shoves open yet another door, and then stands back to usher Sanji in ahead of him. “Take a look.”

Stepping cautiously around the other man’s bulk, Sanji peers into the new room, and promptly feels his breath catch.

It’s a galley, and not just any galley at that, but easily one of the nicest kitchens Sanji’s ever seen. The brightly lit room with its pristine cupboards and gleaming appliances appears at a glance to contain any tool he could ever hope to work with, and he can only imagine that the pantry is more of the same.

“This is …” he starts, only to have to lick his lips and start over again. “You’re sure whoever normally cooks won’t mind me messing around in here?”

Zoro laughs. “Curly, we don’t have a cook. That’s one of the reasons Luffy is so excited over you being here. We’ve all been sharing the job for years, and the results can be pretty mixed, let me tell you.”

Sanji blinks. “I’m sorry, I cannot possibly have heard you right,” he declares. “Because I’m pretty sure you just told me you’ve been sailing the Grand Line for years without an actual ship’s cook.”

“You heard me fine,” Zoro confirms. “Captain, swordsman, sniper, navigator, doctor, archeologist, shipwright, musician, and helmsman. Not a cook to be found among the lot of us.”

“That’s crazy,” Sanji says. “Shouldn’t a cook have been one of the first slots you filled?”

“Luffy tried. It’s a long story, and I promise I’ll fill you in, but for now, go take a look around, why don’t you?”

Still standing in the doorway, Sanji finds himself suddenly balking at the idea. Deep down he knows it’s safe, knows that there’s no trap waiting to spring shut on him if he moves forward, but it’s hard to overcome a lifetime’s worth of caution at the drop of a hat. 

Even when Zeff had been in charge, the kitchens of Germa had never been safe thanks to the constant looming threat of Judge or his brothers discovering him. He’d just been too drawn to them and too stubborn not to ignore the risks. He doesn’t know how to adapt to this newfound opportunity.

“You’re sure?” He asks again, hating the note of insecurity he can hear in his voice. 

Zoro doesn’t say anything aloud. Instead, he merely nudges Sanji forward with a light brush of his knuckles, trailing after him as he mentally tells himself enough is enough and starts moving. Eventually, Zoro parks himself next to the kitchen island, tugging on his boots while stays back to give Sanji room to explore.

And explore he does. He starts off small, keeping his actions contained to looking and not touching, but that quickly stops being sufficient. Before long, he’s opening cupboards to catalogue what’s inside, while at the same time making mental notes of how he might arrange things differently. He brushes his hands over cutlery and appliances alike, and shoves his head into both the pantry and the freezer, taking stock of their contents to try and figure out some initial recipes.

He can feel a heavy gaze on him the whole time he’s moving, and when he’s had his fill of exploring, he turns to find Zoro still planted in the same spot as before, leaning casually against the island with his arms crossed. His mouth curves in a fond smile when he catches Sanji eyeing him.

“D’you like it?” He wants to know.

Sanji shoves his hands in his pockets, feeling suddenly shy. “I love it,” he says, more to the floor than to anything else. “It’s brilliant.”

A pair of booted feet appear in his line of vision, and he looks up to find Zoro is now much closer than before, standing with only a few inches of space between them. “Do you think you could be happy here?”

What an immensely stupid question. This place is freedom and safety all rolled into a cheery package that’s topped by the presence of one of the only people who’s ever cared about him. If he can’t be happy here, he can’t be happy anywhere.

Overcome, he looks down again. “I can’t repay you for this.” He murmurs. “It’s - I just can’t.”

A hand that’s surprisingly gentle for all that it’s covered in scars and callouses curves around his jaw, tilting his face up while staying mindful of his fading bruises. “You don’t owe me anything,” Zoro says firmly. “You saved my life, repeatedly, without ever caring about the risks to your own. All I’m doing is trying to even the score.”

“Plus,” he adds seriously. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a vested interest in keeping you around.”

Sanji’s heart stutters in his chest. Zoro’s hand is warm on his skin, and he leans into the touch after barely a second’s thought. “My sister said I talk about you like a lover, not a friend,” he says breathlessly, finally admitting aloud what he’s been refusing to let himself even consider. “I - I told her she was wrong, but I think I was lying.”

“Good.” Zoro says, and starts to lean in.

Belatedly realizing what he’s about to do, Sanji freezes. “I’ve never …” 

“I know,” Zoro replies softly. “We don’t have to, if it’s too much.”

“No, I want to.” Sanji’s quick to assure him. “It’s just - sorry if I suck at it, I guess?”

“You won’t.” Zoro says, his voice rife with conviction.

He telegraphs the move, coming in slowly so as to give Sanji ample opportunity to lean away if he chooses. When that doesn’t happen, he presses their mouths together, humming quietly and bringing his free hand up to curve around Sanji’s waist, using his grip to draw him in closer.

For all that it feels like it goes on forever, the kiss doesn’t actually last that long. Zoro pulls back soon, his gaze searching Sanji’s face for any sign of discomfort. “Was that okay?”

“You know full well I’d have kicked you in the head if it wasn’t,” Sanji replies, and they both laugh. The sound echoes throughout the galley, carrying with it a giddy mixture of relief and happiness, as Sanji brings his own arms up to loop them around Zoro’s neck. 

“I didn’t let myself think about it,” he admits, whispering the words into Zoro’s shoulder. “You were going to be gone and I had to stay, so what was the point of imagining a scenario that couldn’t ever come to be. Not to mention the whole you not having legs and needing to live in the water thing. That made it really easy to decide nothing could ever happen.”

Zoro snorts and prods at his shin with one foot. “Even if I couldn’t switch forms,” he says, both his arms now securely wrapped around Sanji’s waist, “I’d have figured out a way to make it work. So long as you told me it was okay.”

“Fuck.” Sanji gasps, grateful Zoro can’t see his face because he’s pretty sure his cheeks are on fire. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“I can say anything I want,” Zoro disagrees, pressing a kiss to Sanji’s hair. “And I will, especially since you need to hear it. I know it’ll take time, but I’ll get it into your thick skull even if I have to beat it in there.”

Sanji chokes out a weak laugh. “How can you make that sound romantic? That should not be romantic, holy crap. You’re a brute.”

“Uh huh,” Zoro says. “Probably even more of one than you realize. I’m sure the others will be happy to fill you in.”

The others. Sanji freezes, having forgotten about them. “Will they mind?” He asks, raising his head in alarm. “I don’t want them hating me if this is going to screw up the crew dynamics or anything like that.”

Zoro laughs. “They’ll be fine,” he’s quick to assure. “I mean, they’ll razz the hell out of us, and I bet you any money the witch’ll tell you you’re too good for me, but they won’t care. Half of ‘em have probably figured it out already.”

Sanji thinks back to Nami and Robin’s knowing looks from earlier and blushes. “Well that’s embarrassing.”

“Not yet it isn’t,” Zoro replies. “But give it time. They’ll figure out ways to be annoying that you never even dreamed of.”

Sanji snorts. “I’ll take annoying over what I grew up with any day of the week.” He pauses then, letting that thought sink in. “God, I can’t believe I’m really out of there.”

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t let me kill any of them,” Zoro mutters, making a face. “I could’ve made it quick.”

“You’re sweet,” Sanji says, brushing a kiss to his cheek, “but that’s never been something I wanted from them. I just wanted them to leave me alone and not hurt anyone.”

“Which they would do if they were dead,” Zoro points out in what he probably thinks is a reasonable manner. “In my experience the dead don’t usually go around bothering people after they’ve kicked it. Except Brook, and he doesn’t count.”

“It’s fine, Marimo,” Sanji promises. “I’m happy with how things turned out. Although, out of curiosity, I’d love to know what the hell you said to Niji after you sliced his face open. I heard the first part but not the second.”

“Oh.” Much to Sanji’s amazement, Zoro blushes and looks away. “It was nothing.”

“The fuck it was,” Sanji says, poking him in the forehead. “The tips of your ears are red, which means you have to tell me. Spill.”

Heaving a put upon sigh, Zoro doesn’t bother fighting it when Sanji wraps both hands around his jaw and forces him to turn back around. “I told him the legs were for me, but the face was for you and the only reason I wasn’t cutting his throat was because you told me not to.”

Letting those words sink in, Sanji drops his hands down to Zoro’s shoulders. “That’s going to stick with him forever,” he says finally. “He’ll always be thinking about it.”

“Every time he looks in a damn mirror,” Zoro agrees, practically purring with satisfaction. “And the others will remember how badly we kicked their asses every time they see him. It’s not quite as good as killing them, but I guess it’ll do.”

“You really are a demon.” Sanji says, before quickly adding when Zoro looks alarmed. “It’s not a bad thing. I like the idea of having someone like you think I’m something worthwhile. It’s nice.”

“I don’t think it, I know it,” Zoro says firmly, leaning in for another kiss. “And I’m going to show you every damn day if you’ll let me.”

And who’s Sanji to argue with that? Smiling stupidly, he accepts the kiss as his due.

Chapter Text

Epilogue

Sanji maintains a careful grip on the rented dinghy, trying his best to concentrate as he steers it towards their intended destination. The ship is looming up ahead, the only stopping point around for miles, and he doesn’t want to do something ridiculous like sail past it. Unfortunately, that’s easier said than done when half his attention is being taken up by a much more immediate problem.

“Oi!” He calls, leaning over and rapping his knuckles on the hull of the boat since he’s too high up to get his hands all the way into the water. “You’re going the wrong way again. Get back where I can see you.”

Nothing happens for a moment, but then the dark shape he’s been keeping an eye on reverses course. It cuts sharply through the water below, heading straight for him until it pauses at the edge of the boat and a pair of broad hands reach up to grab the side.

“If you capsize this thing - ” Sanji starts, his eyes narrowing as the dinghy lurches alarmingly. “I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

Zoro rolls his good eye as he rises further out of the ocean. “Would you relax? I’m not that heavy.”

Speaking as someone who both feeds him and shares a bunk with him, Sanji is going to have to disagree. Zoro’s a behemoth no matter what shape he’s in, and right now he’s got the added benefit of being wet to boot.

Having said that, the boat is levelling out given that Zoro’s not scrabbling around so much, so Sanji tells himself to take a breath and not add ‘arriving soaking wet’ to the ever growing list of anxieties he’s been maintaining about this meeting. He’s already got enough of those, thank you very kindly.

“Whatever,” he says aloud. “We’re almost there. You should get up here and get dressed.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Zoro nevertheless adjusts his grip and begins the laborious process of hauling himself out of the water and into a moving vessel. At least he’s not trying to just jump in, Sanji supposes. That very well might capsize them.

He watches as Zoro essentially rolls himself into the boat, landing half on his back with his tail mostly inside and an annoyed look on his face as he wriggles around to get upright. Chuckling in spite of his nerves, Sanji tosses a pre-arranged towel at his head.

“Hurry up and get dried off,” he orders. “I want you looking at least as presentable as you ever get for this.”

“He’s met me before,” Zoro grumbles, even as he starts patting his face dry. “He won’t care.”

“He met you once, years ago, and under very different circumstances,” Sanji counters. “At least try and put some effort in.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow at his tone, the action fully visible even in spite of the towel, and then begins mopping up his arms and chest. Once that’s done he drapes the towel over his waist in a rare show of modesty and shifts.

It’s been well over a year since they met, so Sanji’s used to this by now. He barely bats an eye as Zoro leans back and stretches first one leg and then the other, wriggling his feet around to work any kinks out of his muscles.

The motion draws attention to his ridiculous ankle scars, now fully healed and with no lasting impact on his general well-being, and Sanji huffs out a quiet laugh. “Get dressed, mosshead.” He says when Zoro looks at him. “We’re almost there.”

In answer, Zoro tries to shove his foot in Sanji’s face, making him squawk and bat him away. “Asshole,” he mutters over the sound of Zoro’s snickering. “I know when the last time you had a bath was.”

“Yeah, it was this morning,” Zoro points out. “And I was just in the water.”

“The ocean brine and a tub full of soapy water are two very different things,” Sanji says primly. “Besides, we both know the only reason you washed today is because I made you. I can’t believe I fell for a man who thinks regular hygiene is something that happens to other people.”

“I spend half my life in the water,” Zoro protests, his voice rising with the strains of the familiar argument. “It’s fine.”

“You’re disgusting,” Sanji says, his lip curling around the cigarette he’s been smoking the entire time. “And still naked. Put some pants on, Marimo. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Grumbling, Zoro reaches for the bag Sanji’d piled his discarded clothes on top of after he’d climbed into the water. Once he starts dressing, however, he’s quick about it, and the next thing Sanji knows he’s fully clothed and tucking his swords into their usual position on his hip.

“Well?” He asks, spreading his arms a little when he catches Sanji staring. “Do I pass?”

His words suddenly escaping him, Sanji motions him forward until he’s close enough for him to run his hands through his hair, smoothing down the green strands where they’re sticking up all over the place thanks to his aggressive toweling. 

“You’ll do,” Sanji says gruffly, once the situation’s as good as it’s going to get. 

“Hmm,” Zoro replies, dropping back down into the depths of the boat so he can sprawl out like the neanderthal he is. “Are you still freaking out?”

“I’m not freaking out,” Sanji denies. This statement would possibly be more believable if it wasn’t accompanied by him finishing his current cigarette and then immediately sucking back on another. “I’m fine.”

Zoro gives him a highly skeptical look.

“I am!” Sanji insists, never a fan of that look. “I am completely and totally one hundred percent fine.”

“Your feet are smoking,” Zoro points out helpfully.

Cursing, Sanji glances down at the limbs in question, glaring until they stop giving rise to his subconscious concerns. “I’m fine,” he repeats, this time gritting the words out through clenched teeth.

“Hope that’s true,” Zoro says with a shrug. “Because we’re almost there.”

Sanji glances up ahead of them, where the ship he’d spotted earlier is looming even larger in the distance. Without meaning to, he flinches.

He’d barely been sailing with the Strawhats for any time at all when Zoro had cautiously approached and said there was something he’d wanted to tell him. They’d wound up sitting side by side in the crow’s nest while Zoro had regaled him with the story of the scar on his chest and, more importantly, the location of where the event had taken place - a seafaring restaurant run by a one-legged chef in the East Blue.

Sanji hadn’t known what to think initially. Elation and relief had been the first things to course through him, quickly followed by a sense of longing that had almost knocked him to his knees. Unfortunately, close behind all that was a nagging sense of guilt and a nervousness he hadn’t known what to do with.

He’d waffled back and forth for ages about the possibility of making contact, half convinced that there was no way his presence would be welcome. Zoro’d been quick to offer up his opinion as to that particular fear, but had otherwise made no move to pressure Sanji into a decision. 

In the end he’d put the idea firmly in the category of ‘maybe’, telling himself there wasn’t time to go harring off to the East Blue now, but that he could always do so once Luffy had achieved his goal. Then they’d started hearing rumours of a famous floating restaurant that had made its way to the Grand Line, and Sanji couldn’t bring himself to wait any longer. He’d kicked Zoro awake from where he’d been napping in the aquarium and made a bunch of fumbled excuses until the merman had calmly asked him when he wanted to leave. After which, that had been that.

“What if he doesn’t recognize me?” He says back in the here and now. “What if he doesn’t remember?”

Zoro gives him an exasperated look, but otherwise doesn’t dignify this with a response.

“Fine,” Sanji huffs, conceding the other man’s unspoken point. “What if he remembers everything and doesn’t want to see me because of it?”

“Then I’ll kick his ass,” Zoro replies calmly, his expression never wavering. “But that’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that,” Sanji says waspishly. “You can’t.”

Zoro sits up at this, his entire body leaning in close until he can pluck the cigarette from between Sanji’s lips and toss it overboard. Then he takes Sanji’s face in his hands, forcing him to meet his gaze. 

“If someone took you away from me for months,” he says seriously, “let alone years, there is nothing I wouldn’t do to get you back. He’s going to be thrilled.”

And clearly Sanji has no choice but to kiss him for that, so he does, shifting to close the distance between them with a sound that’s a lot closer to a whimper than he’s comfortable admitting. 

“You’re such a sap,” he murmurs when he pulls back. 

“Mhm,” Zoro replies, unconcerned and chasing after him to press a kiss to the edge of his jaw. “Love you, curly.”

“I know.” Sanji says, because he does. It might have taken him an embarrassingly long time to start believing it, but that’s in the past now. Zoro’s not a liar at the worst of times. There’s no way he’d fake something like this.

Taking a couple heavy breaths, he looks up to find that they’ve arrived at their destination. The Baratie is now looming before them, with a number of ships similar to theirs docked around her.

They’ve come to a full stop and tied off the lines when Sanji’s nerves once again get the better of him. “It looks busy,” he says, still standing in the dinghy as he counts the boats around them. “Maybe we should come back later.”

In answer, Zoro leaps onto the Baratie’s deck, turning with one hand resting over his swords as he gives Sanji a look. “Do you remember what you said to me when you decided you wanted to come out here?”

Sanji groans, but offers up the answer willingly enough. “I said there was a solid chance I’d get cold feet when we arrived.”

“And?”

“And that I needed you to make sure I didn’t give in to any urges to run,” Sanji finishes with a sigh. “Fuck past me and his stupid contingency plans.”

“You’ll regret it if we leave after coming all this way,” Zoro says. He holds out a hand to help Sanji onboard. “C’mon, cook. Let’s go see your dad.”

Normally Sanji would bristle at having this uncharacteristic chivalry directed his way, but today it’s possible he needs all the reassurance he can get. Gripping Zoro’s hand tightly, he allows the other man to assist him out of the boat and onto the restaurant.

The docking area isn’t anything special and if there’s an outdoor dining location on the ship, it doesn’t seem to be in use today. Therefore, they make their way over to the main doors, where Zoro casually pushes them open and steps inside.

As tends to happen when one has a three hundred and twenty million dollar bounty on their head, his reputation precedes him. A hush falls over the dining area as many of the guests openly gawk at the arrival of the Demon of the East, and Sanji finds himself more flustered than usual by the attention. 

“Why do you have to be so freaking distinctive?” He hisses, low enough that only Zoro can hear him.

“Like you’re not getting a reputation of your own,” Zoro mutters back.

Sanji’s saved from having to respond by a commotion occurring at the front desk. Glancing over he sees a pair of middle aged chefs - one with a shaved head and the other with small, round glasses - shoving at each other by the cash.

Next to him, Zoro rolls his good eye. “Great,” he sighs. “These two are still around.”

Wondering what that means, Sanji eyes the two men again. The one with the shaved head appears to have lost the argument because he’s wriggled out from behind the counter and is making his way over. Glasses remains firmly planted on the other side, looking smug.

Shaved Head reaches them with a lot of stuttering and wringing of hands, his eyes darting around in a valiant effort to land anywhere but on Zoro’s face. “Mr. Swordsman, Sir!” He says finally. “What can we do for you today?”

Sanji bites back a sigh at this undeserved show of deference. Zoro’s fearsome reputation might be well earned in some instances, but in many it’s highly exaggerated. Really, he’s just a mannerless oaf who happens to be good at sticking pointy metal objects in people if the situation calls for it. He doesn’t lash out unprovoked.

He also either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care when he garners this type of reaction from people. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his robe, he barely spares the chef a glance. “Where’s the old man?”

Shaved Head blinks. “The … old … man?” He blinks again, his face screwing up in confusion. “Do you mean the head chef?”

“That’s the one,” Zoro agrees, nodding. “He around?”

“He’s in his office.” Shaved Head says slowly, his eyes widening as Zoro promptly starts heading for the kitchen entrance. “Hey, wait! Customers aren’t allowed back there!”

The man makes to grab for Zoro’s sleeve and then clearly thinks better of it. Instead, he hovers nervously around as Zoro - and Sanji by extension because the brute has caught a hold of his elbow and is dragging him along - pushes back the kitchen doors where half a dozen additional chefs can now gape at him.

“Where’s the office?” Zoro demands.

“At the back and to the left,” says Shaved Head. “But you really can’t just barge in there! If it’s that important, I can ask him to come out.”

“No, we’re not doing this with an audience.” Zoro replies, carving a path through the alarmed chefs without a care in the world. Sanji mouths apologies behind his back as he’s tugged along in his wake.

“Honestly, what’s it going to take for you to learn some manners?” He groans as soon as they’re out of earshot. “Do I have to beat them into you? Because you know I’m not above trying that. Also the man said left, Marimo. Left!”

Zoro obediently switches direction and marches down the short hallway until they reach a single door that looks like it’s been kicked repeatedly. Not bothering to knock, he opts instead to simply grab the handle and fling it open.

“What in the hell?” Barks an irate voice from inside. “This area’s off limits to customers!”

“Not a customer,” Zoro says. He’s standing so that he takes up most of the doorway, effectively making it so that Sanji - who’s now none too subtly losing his shit because he knows that voice - can’t see in and the room’s occupant can’t see out. “I’m - ”

“I know who you are!” Snaps the voice. “My memory’s just as good as ever and you haven’t changed that much even with the missing eye. Or the legs for that matter. What do you want, kelp for brains?”

“Brought you something,” Zoro replies, and then unceremoniously hauls Sanji into the office. 

“I can walk by myself.” Sanji snaps, trying to tug his arm free and glaring at Zoro because that’s much easier than focusing on the tall figure that’s frozen halfway in the act of climbing out of its seat. “Honestly, you are an absolute barbarian.”

As if to prove this sentiment, Zoro doesn’t bother responding. Releasing his hold on Sanji’s arm, he leans back against the nearest wall, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding at the chef with a little ‘get on with it’ gesture.

Telling himself to get a grip, and then taking that advice literally by wrapping his arms around himself, Sanji glances at the cluttered desk that takes up most of the room and the wide eyed man standing behind it.

“Eggplant.” Zeff says weakly. 

Sanji makes a noise that’s one part laugh, one part whimper, and one part something entirely unidentifiable. “That was a stupid nickname when I was eight and it’s no less dumb now, crap geezer,” he chokes out. “Do better, would you?”

The words are enough to shake Zeff out of his stupor, and he rounds the corner of his desk with surprising speed for a man his age, only coming to a stop when there’s about a foot of distance between them.

“ How?” He asks.

“It’s a long story,” Sanji mumbles, trying very hard not to stare at the spot where the man’s right leg now ends in a wooden stump. “But we heard you were nearby, and I thought - I don’t know what I thought. I just wanted to see you, and I hoped maybe you’d want to see me too.”

Zeff makes a wounded noise at this, and his hands twitch like they want to reach out and touch. “You thought right,” he says raggedly. “Worrying over you still keeps me up at night.”

With that said, he steps forward until he can grip Sanji’s face in his hands, holding him steady as he takes him in. “Look how big you got,” he says, his eyes bright. “My little brat, all grown up.”

Sanji keens at his touch, collapsing forward until he can bury his face and the crook of the old man’s neck and cling to him. “I didn’t know if you’d want to see me,” he admits, safely out of sight. “I was afraid you’d be angry about everything that happened.”

“Tch, grown up but still dumb as a bag of rocks,” Zeff says, thumping him on the back with a heavy hand. He pulls back, forcing Sanji to look him in the eye. “You listen to me, kid. It was my choice, and if it came down to it I’d do the exact same thing over again.”

“Actually, that’s a lie,” he adds thoughtfully. “Given the opportunity, I’d slit Judge’s throat in his sleep if I could, but otherwise, yeah. I’d do it all over again.”

Sanji lets out a ragged laugh, scrubbing at his face to try and prevent any wetness from revealing itself. “You’re crazy.”

Zeff ruffles his hair, mussing it into disarray with a hand that feels just as strong as ever. “Mhm, maybe so, but it’s a parent’s job to protect their kid whatever the risks. I didn’t entirely succeed, which I regret, but don’t you dare sit there and blame yourself. I taught you better than that.”

“I know,” Sanji mutters, and Zeff makes a pleased noise.

“Good,” he says firmly. “Glad to hear it. Now then, I expect you to fill me in on everything that’s happened since I saw you last, but I’ve got two things I need you to tell me first.”

“Uh, okay?” Sanji says, confused.

Zeff nods and holds up a finger. “Number one, are you safe?”

“Yes.”

The single word answer makes Zeff close his eyes briefly, a storm of emotions flashing across his face until he takes a deep breath. “Good, that’s good,” he says gruffly. “Second question. Are you happy?”

Sanji pauses, momentarily taken aback by the query. He cuts his eyes over to Zoro, finding the swordsman still in his spot by the wall and watching him with a small smile on his face. He licks his lips. 

“Yes.” He says again, his voice now raspier than before. “I’m happy.”

Zeff does not miss the shared glances. His own eyes flit back and forth between the two of them, his expression calculating. Finally, he grunts. “Hmph. Never expected to have a fish for a son-in-law, but I’m an adaptable man. How’d you two meet?”

“That is … such a long story,” Sanji says. “We will literally be here all night.”

“Have you got somewhere else to be?” Zeff asks, humming when Sanji shakes his head. “Good, neither do I.”

“Let me get you something to eat,” he says, nodding at the door behind them, “and then we’ll talk.”