Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"If I seem different somehow...I want you to kill me."

Zoro chews on the inside of his cheek. Ever since the crew went up against Kaido, the words had not once left his mind. It sounded idiotic—and whilst Zoro has spent more than enough time thinking about the 'why's', he just can't seem to make any sense of it. 'Before it's too late', he said, 'Before I hurt anyone'. Maybe Sanji was scared. Maybe he wanted to be cautious. Utterly cautious in a way that would only hurt the crew, but also kill him because why the fuck not.

Zoro wanted to believe that things would be alright. That it really was all just some shitty dream he had, or that he didn't hear him correctly due to King attacking him so ferociously that his hearing got damaged. That he wouldn't have to kill Sanji.

It would be a shame, really. Having to kill off the bastard after finally talking to one another like proper adults and fucking like tomorrow wouldn't come. He can clearly remember that night. The images were still vivid, as if it had been yesterday. Sanji came up to him and hugged him. Zoro couldn't tell if he was laughing or sobbing.

And then they talked. And that led to, after a painstakingly long amount of time, a confirmation of sorts. That they were more than just this amalgamation of feelings that neither of them could make sense of. Zoro knows he cried a little. For once, he didn't even mind.

What he did mind, however, was that the ship wasn't moving. Zoro had stationed himself on the deck, leaning on the railing as he watched wave after wave pass them by. Until they didn't anymore.

"Yo! Everyone! Emergency meeting, now," Franky spoke through the intercom he had recently installed. The cyborg found it to be more effective than yelling his lungs out every time he needed to make an announcement. They were still his own after all.

Zoro strode over to the Sunny's lounge, the fishes in the aquarium looking at him in all sorts of funny ways. Zoro had once joked that one of them looked just as ugly as Sanji due to its elongated tail and seemingly swirled fins. The blonde, however, did not appreciate the joke in the slightest.

"What's going on?" Brook questioned, concern lacing whatever parts of his face that could show it. Chopper took the liberty of answering, hoisting himself onto the couch as he cleared his throat.

"Nami is sick. She collapsed just now, and luckily Jinbei noticed soon enough. He brought her to me, but she's—I don't know," Chopper sighs, rubbing at his face with his hooves, "I can't make out just what she has, which is scary and plain awful because I'm supposed to know!"

"Do you think it'd be a better idea to head back to Wano for the time being?" Robin suggested.

"No. I thought about it, but it won't do much good. The entrance to Wano is too rough, even if we're able to take an easier route. We need to continue on until the next island and then immediately stop there. It's not as if I won't be able to do research on the Sunny, but it'd be better for Nami if we went ashore."

"Roger that," Franky hummed. "I'll stay on the lookout for any islands."

"Thank you, Franky." Chopper sighed in relief. "Nami is currently resting in her room. For the time being I'm just....gonna try, I suppose. I will ask you all to please keep the noise down."

Zoro shot Sanji a dirty yet playful look. But he never even dared to turn his gaze to Zoro. Right. One day he's hyper as could be and the next he's— whatever this emotion even is. Zoro has gotten used to that by now.

Nami was sick, big fucking deal. There was no need for Sanji to sulk so much about it. This has already happened before. She wasn't going to die.

Hopefully, anyways.

"She's been sick before. She'll be fine, Chopper, I'm sure you'll be able to help her," Zoro says. Chopper grins cheekily, rubbing at the back of his neck, a giggle accompanying it. Ever since they've met him back on Drum Island, that part of him hadn't changed in the slightest.

"Don't think you're going to get far with flattery, dummy—Oh, uhm, I guess that was all. I'm going to continue on with my research!"

"Then I'll take the liberty of making Nami a tasty meal whilst she heals," Sanji grins, clasping his hands together with that stupid grin he always has when he talks about Nami— or any woman for that matter. Zoro can't say he hates it, but at times he wishes he just— wouldn't. By now it's obvious it's more an act of sorts rather than anything else, and if Zoro were honest, he would rather have Sanji cling onto him than Nami or Robin. It hurt to see, in a way. That he'd rather be as vulnerable as he is with anyone that wasn't him. Made it feel as if Sanji didn't trust him.

The room emptied itself out soon enough, leaving only Zoro and Brook. The skeleton sat next to the swordsman, his head— or skull— cocked to the side.

"Are you worried about Nami?" Brook asked.

Zoro didn't want to admit to it, but Brook was annoyingly observant. Not a bad trait of course, but god could it get on his nerves. Zoro shrugged, his eye following one of the fishes that swam overhead.

"Hm. She'll make it. Don't see why I should worry over it."

"But you are worried, are you not?" Brook persisted, "I can see it with my own two eyes— oh, wait, I don't have eyes!"

"What are you trying to get at?" Zoro groans, sitting upright. Brook cleared his throat (despite not having one), his tone reverting back to a calmer one.

"Not much, really. More so trying to have a lovely chat with my lovely crewmate."

"Noted." Zoro sighed. The tension he's felt the past...well, while, really, hadn't done much good. Other than making sure Zoro couldn't sleep and thus letting the others sleep more as he took night watch after night watch. He supposes the constant stream of sheer anxiety coursing through his veins was at least good for that.

Zoro's afraid. And Brook noticed it. Zoro might not be the most social person ever but he's not dense.

"When we were fighting Kaido's crew," Zoro begins, "Sanji had called me via a transponder snail. Mid-battle, even."

"Oh, my, how scandalous. What did he say?"

"He told me to kill him if he 'changed '. It's been scaring the shit out of me ever since because I don't know if I can. I'm sure I won't have to consider it but still."

Brook falls silent. And he takes his damn time thinking, too. As much as it annoys Zoro, he lets Brook take that time. He's been through his fair share of things. He trusts the man.

"Have you told anyone else yet?"

"Nope," Zoro replies, "you're the first person I've told."

"I see. That must feel nice, having that secret off your chest." Brook taps his boney fingers on his knee, his gaze to the ground.

"Hm, just don't go telling anyone else. I want to do this in my own time."

"Of course! Hand on my heart that I won't betray you. Or, well, if I had a heart that is!"

Brook's laughter filled the room, earning a small grin from Zoro. He knew he could trust him as much as any other person on this crew— yet he's sure that none of them won't freak out about it, or at least get pissed that he agreed to such an idiotic proposal. But what else could Zoro even do? Shake Sanji silly in the hopes of having him take back what he said? That's not how the man worked. Sanji was as stubborn as could be. Zoro sighs, running his hand through his hair.

"Thanks. I think I'm gonna head back. Are you coming?"

"I will join you all soon enough." Brook answered, smiling (even though he doesn't have a mouth to smile with which was still odd to think about, let alone see).

Zoro found himself back at the railing of the ship, the waves finally moving beneath the Sunny. The faster the better, Zoro guessed. The sooner they found an island to dock at and get Nami to feel better, the faster they would be able to continue their journey. It's not as if Zoro wanted everything to be done and over with, no, far from it.

It's just that the possibility of Sanji doing something that might just force him to—

Zoro shook his head, pushing the thought to the far back of his mind. Nothing was going to happen. Nothing. He wouldn't allow it, damnit.

—

The Thousand Sunny. The embodiment of Franky's hard work. The home of the Strawhats. All of the good stuff any normal person wouldn't even dare to dream of. And here Franky was, manning the ship. He was lucky enough to have Nami help him when he decided to add in a radar to detect nearby islands. It was their priority to make sure she got all the rest she needed. And steering a ship isn't really something you do when you're sick, after all.

It took longer than Franky would've hoped or liked to detect something on the radar. The island seemed to be small, but still island sized. But there seemed to be something bugging the signal. Franky hit the radar softly a couple of times, cocking his brow. That was odd. His devices always work, no matter how simple or difficult its construction was. The cyborg took a look at the cables—maybe that was the issue at hand.

But of course, when Franky looked down, all the cables were lined up and tied together perfectly, just as they always have been.

"Usopp, mind giving me a hand here bud?" Franky asks through the intercom— secretly he really enjoys using the thing. But then again, who doesn't? He's already allowed Brook to play a couple of his songs through it, and Luffy had, jokingly for once, asked Sanji to make him more meat, which didn't go too well for his captain. This got Luffy 'banned' from using the intercom (but it's not as if they could really stop him if he really wanted to).

Usopp bursts through the door not too long after. There were two helms on the ship, one above deck and one below deck. The one above deck gets used the most out of the two, which is understandable— Nami mans that one most of the time since she doesn't really need any of the fancy equipment that Franky just finds to come in handy. The one below deck has additional graphs and screens surrounding it, a stark contrast to the open air surrounding the one above deck.

"What's up? Did something break?" Usopp asks, now standing next to Franky. Almost immediately, a small 'ohh' falls from his lips.

"Oh, come on— the radar's jammed?"

"Yeah, and I have no clue why. I know for a fact the Cola-supply is plenty, and the cables are untouched. So, it's either some outside force jamming it up or I somehow managed to make a machine that doesn't work, which I doubt," Franky sighs, rubbing his eyes, "so I need your input here bro. Because I don't make flawed machines."

"Well, hey, as much as the radar might be...." Usopp glares at the screen and watches the blue light flash and glitch into shapes it most definitely shouldn't be showing, "uh, y'know, showing odd behavior, we still found an island. That's a good thing."

"Fair point. But then again, that means there's something not cool about it. I don't think we should dock too close to the island, and take the Mini-Merry instead. I don't wanne risk it."

"Yeah, no, sounds good to me. I'll go tell the rest," Usopp responds. Franky watches the sharpshooter run off, now alone once more, the only thing keeping him company being the noises coming from the screens. He scans over them, trying to make sense of the mess in front of him. One graph says that the island is cold, another says it's warm, and the damn radar keeps showing different shapes that don't even look remotely close to islands anymore.

Something was out there. Franky knew it in his bones. He set course for the island, a feeling of uncertainty settling in the back of his mind.

That certain 'something'  was going to creep up to them and crash their party.

—

"Everybody! Island up ahead!" Usopp yells out from the top deck. He quickly dashes down the stairs with Luffy on his heel, who had swung himself to the head of the ship. Sanji slowly emerged from the kitchen, an eerie look on his face that Zoro doesn't seem to recognize. The blonde's eyes seemed hollow—if that makes sense. Zoro can't see the life behind them like he usually does.

Forget it. He must be tired and simply seeing things.

Zoro lazily walked over to the rest of the crew, half-listening to whatever Usopp seemed to be rambling about. He couldn't be bothered by the details, really.

"So, yeah. I'm thinking it might be a good idea to put Nami and Luffy on the Mini-Merry first and then have the rest come over afterwards." Usopp suggests. No one seems to have any objections thus far.

"Uh, that's fine and all, but has anyone noticed that the sky is....not really sky-colored?" Jinbei mentions, pointing upwards.

Zoro's a sword-guy, not a weather-guy, though despite that, he was pretty sure that the sky wasn't supposed to look a light shade of purple when it was still in the middle of the day. The sun was still out, he felt it burning on his skin, so he must be at least a little correct.

"Oh crap! Hey, that might be what jammed Franky's radar just now..."

"I don't think it'll be too great of an issue," Robin interrupts, "I'm quite certain that this has to do with the magnetic field of the island. The only thing it'll truly affect is the log-pose, but that should be that. Or, I hope so, anyway. Who knows, maybe it'll lead us to a whole different dimension and kill us all."

"Not helping here," Usopp mutters through an awkward laugh.

"Yo! Let's get this show rollin'!" Franky shouts, earning a weak hit from Nami whom he carried in his metallic hands. Luffy ran ahead to get to the Mini-Merry with Franky and Nami following suit.

Nami was pale as a snake. She looked absolutely miserable, as if she'd been through hell and back all in the span of a couple of hours. This wasn't the same as the last time she felt ill— that was different. She wasn't completely knocked out. She could still move herself around. But this? This was unlike anything he’d ever seen her go through.

From what Zoro's gathered thus far, Nami and Luffy would go first. Jinbei, Brook and Robin would be next. Then Chopper would join him and Sanji, since he was small enough to fit between the two. Franky and Usopp would come last, since they had to make sure that The Sunny would be safe. Or so Zoro guesses, anyway.

Sanji waved at Nami and Luffy, watching them sail off towards the rocky beach. There were rocks and boulders scattered all around, almost as if it were some sort of wall. It was surely man-made— had to be. This didn't look anything like what mother nature herself would just form out of nowhere.

Next went Robin and Brook, with Jinbei swimming behind them. Sanji, again, waved, trying to desperately to catch Robin's attention. Zoro gently shoved Sanji with his elbow, as if trying to get him to cut it out. The cook growled, shoving Zoro in return with a grin on his face— Zoro really must have been seeing things then.

They were next, with Chopper too of course. The reindeer sat in front of them, half-squished onto the seat but still sitting comfortably. Zoro glanced at Sanji for the millionth time, the words repeating themselves as if it were merely the first time he's heard them.

"I need you to kill me."

Just what did it mean? Why would he have to kill him? For what? When? And how, if it ever came that far? Just with his blades? Zoro doesn't think he'd ever be able to use them again if he does.

Fuck, trying to decipher something as cryptic as that was giving him a headache.

Zoro had...liked, Sanji ever since he had laid his eyes on the bastard. He doesn't like using that word in the slightest. Made his skin crawl. He'd rather call it 'devotion', or something like that. It's easier to. The concept of devotion itself wasn't difficult for Zoro to grasp either— he considered himself to be decently devoted to his friends. And what is love, if not a stronger form of it?

"You have anything on your mind or do you just like staring at people?" Sanji suddenly snorted. Zoro turned his gaze back to the water, clearing his throat as if he didn’t know what the cook was talking about.

"No, it's nothing," Zoro said, "just thinking is all."

"Oh wow, that's a new one." Sanji has to really try not to laugh at his own joke.

"Now look who's talking."

"Whatever," Sanji hums, leaning back in his seat a bit. He whispers, and Zoro can feel Sanji's breath on his skin.

"What were you thinking about?" Sanji asks. Zoro turns away. Right now wasn't convenient. For starters, Chopper was here. And if Chopper got to find out about what he'd promised the cook, Zoro was sure that he'd tell everyone else. Their doctor wasn't one to hold secrets from people.

They would talk about it. Just now.

"You," is what Zoro eventually settles on. It wasn't entirely wrong either. Sanji playfully punches Zoro's arm, a mix of disgust (no real disgust, rather the disgust one would feel after looking at an overly sweet couple or the disgust you feel after tasting overly sweet and sour lemonade) and what Zoro hopes to be some form of admiration.

"Jerk."

"Asshole."

"Dumbass."

"Guys!" Chopper interrupts. Sanji chuckles and falls silent.

The rest of the trip to the island was spent in silence. Only the sound of the waves clashing against the Mini-Merry's wood seemed to accompany the trio. Zoro knew for a fact that the trip shouldn't take any longer than five minutes, yet it sure as hell felt like more. Every second felt like a minute, and every minute felt like ten.

Zoro's mind was playing tricks on him. He blamed it on stress. On the fight with King. On the fear he had felt when Luffy almost died but somehow didn't. Because no way in hell would Sanji change out of nowhere. Zoro was worried over a joke.

A joke. A very timed, very funny fucking joke.

Was it something that Queen had said? Must be. The bastard is a weird sort of cyborg himself, after all. Not as extravagant as Franky, but a cyborg, nonetheless.

Maybe Sanji's family— what was its name again, Germs? Germa?—  was mentioned. Maybe Queen said something about them. And Sanji got worried. That made sense.

Whatever. What-the-fuck ever. If Zoro wanted an answer he'd have to ask Sanji.

The Mini-Merry came to a halt, and Chopper eagerly jumped out onto one of the rocks that surrounded the island, almost falling on his face as he did so.

Zoro doesn't know what exactly he was expecting but it certainly wasn't something as seemingly serene as this. The sand up close looked as white as any pearl, and the atmosphere was pleasant—  it made him feel drowsy. Which was fucking bad because that meant that if they got attacked then he wouldn't be as alert. Seems like the others didn't feel the same, however. Luffy was as jumpy as ever, and Robin hadn't said anything dark about how the island made her feel yet. Zoro shrugged it off as the lack of sleep catching up to him.

A sudden, high-pitched shriek filled the air as Chopper took multiple steps back from a plant he was examining. He didn't seem hurt, or sad in the slightest. There was a smile on the doctor's face instead, and a bright one at that. A laugh quickly followed as Chopper rushed over to Nami, who had covered her ears with her hands by now.

"Nami, Nami! Oh, you have no idea what I just found!"

"You're too loud," is all the navigator groaned in return. Chopper muttered a quiet apology before clearing his throat and starting anew.

"Doctor Hiriluk has only showed me this in one of his books once, but I'm sure it's what I think it is. That species of flower is called the 'Pyrgos iroa', or 'Hero's tower', and they're rumored to have an all-healing effect! I thought it was a myth, but— it's here! There's about four different types of flowers, but only one truly heals. The other three don't. But that means it's gotta be on this island somewhere!" Chopper cheered, running back over to the flower to examine it further.

"Wow, now that's what I call an awesome flower," Franky chipped in.

"Indeed," Robin hummed, "but we'll first have to find the correct flower. And from looking at the sky alone, I don't think that's going to be an easy task. We are still unfamiliar with the islands' environment after all."

"That's not that awesome."

Zoro sighed. So now they were going to have to hunt down a flower somewhere on this cursed island. Cursed may be a harsh word to use, but still. Zoro never liked tedious tasks such as these, but he wouldn't mind it if it meant Nami would feel better.

What even got her sick in the first place? Did she get poisoned during the fight with Kaido? Or maybe she was allergic to something very specifically from Wano and now she was suffering from it? Only time will tell, really.

"Hey! I don't know what you want but hands up in the air!" A voice yelled out from somewhere. A group of people with guns— old ones, as far as anyone could tell— approached the lot of them. The front man of the group had his hair tied into a bun, some hairs jumping out here and there, with a most definitely not so pleasant expression on his face. Well, that explained the wall of boulders and rocks.

"If you even as much as try to set foot towards our village it will not end well, got that?" The front man said. The crowd behind him cheered, raising their guns up in the air in unison.

"We're not here to cause any mayhem," Jinbei said, "our friend is sick, and—"

A shot was fired up into the air, cutting Jinbei off.

"Sure. Oh, let me guess, you're here for a remedy, right? Lookin' for that all mighty flower so many people have come to our island for. Well let me tell you this," the front man sneered, taking a step towards Jinbei, "the sooner you leave the better. The last time some poor witted bastard came to search for the thing they didn't even manage to get past the forest! So don't bother wasting your time here."

That was quite the response. The people behind the front man seemed tense, as if they knew that they only had their words to defend them. It wasn't as if they were out to get everyone that stood in their way. That wasn't like Luffy— or anyone on their crew really. But of course, the booing crowd in front of them didn't seem to realize that.

"Might I sing you all a song then? Perhaps that will show you all we are not the evil you think we are," Brook proposed. Yet another gunshot was fired up into the air, which most likely meant that they didn't want Brook to perform for them. The skeleton laughed, stepped back and bowed.

"What a rusty crowd," he muttered.

"Y'know what? Either get moving or leave. You'll die in that forest, so that's yet another task we won't have to worry 'bout."

How nice of them. The crowd shouted with mixed emotions, leaving them an opening to get moving. Luffy ran off first with Nami wrapped in his arms. Multiple gunshots were fired their way, and they all followed their captain in a hurry.

The scenery changed from an open beach to windy fields with flowers scattered as far as you could look. The grass reached up to Zoro's hip. If the flower they were looking for was anywhere near here, then they were fucked. Sort of, anyways. The field looked more long than it was wide. But no forest in sight anywhere.

The smell however, good god. It was indescribably gross. Even Franky had trouble with it, and his nose is made of metal.

"Please don't tell me we're going to have to search here," Usopp whined, his expression matching the horrid stench.

"No, these flowers usually bloom in flat and baren environments, let's just get out of here as fast as possible," Chopper responded. He had pinched his nose with his hooves yet could still taste it in his mouth.

That was at least a relief. Zoro glanced at Sanji, who had no issue whatsoever with the smell. He stood his ground, as stoic as ever.

Zoro felt a lump form in his throat, most likely undeserving of its place there. The cook was acting stubborn. There was no way in hell he didn't at least think something about the smell.

Any, if not all of Sanji's movements were throwing Zoro off more than he would like to admit to. Maybe the way his hip swayed in a different way than it usually does, or maybe the way how he just seems to exist, really. Zoro doesn't remember ever having felt this stressed over a sentence. One single fucking sentence and he's pissing his pants every time he notices something he thinks is different but ends up being normal.

Stupid feelings. Stupid Sanji. Stupid everything. If Zoro could, he would put Sanji in a box and carry him in a bag for the rest of time. But that's not how the world works, sadly.

Zoro slowed his pace a bit, grabbing Sanji by his shoulder. The cook stopped in his tracks. Zoro ogled the distance between them and the rest before daring to speak.

"We need to talk."

"About?" Sanji asked oh so fucking innocently.

"What you told me. You told me to kill you if you changed, and— oh you have no fucking idea how much it has been bugging me. I don't get it. I know you told me to forget about it afterwards, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Because what if you do 'change'? Then what?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Sanji mutters, "I just wanted to be cautious is all. You can let it go."

"Let it go? You're kidding me, right?" Zoro sneers and oh boy does he look angry.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh yeah? Too fucking bad, we're talking about it now—"

"Zoro !" Sanji yells, almost a bit too loudly. The swordsman is taken aback, frowning. It's unlike Sanji to yell like that— heck, it's unlike him to even say his name.

"Just listen. I know what I said okay? But it doesn't matter anymore. Just forget about it. I'm..." Sanji pauses for a moment, takes a breath (regrets it, too) and crosses his arms.

"I'm sorry I made you worry like that. But it's irrelevant now. Okay? Irrelevant and stupid. Because nothing is going to happen."

Fine. Fucking fine. Zoro sighed— bad idea, holy shit was the stench horrid— and reached for Sanji's hand. The cook pulled away. Not in the mood. Noted.

"Are you done?" Sanji asked. Zoro nodded. At least they talked. At least— he tried. Zoro reached out and tried. He was just worried. But if Sanji truly thinks nothing is going to happen, Zoro will have to believe him, even if his mind is screaming at him something might happen. One doesn't just ask to be executed if everything were to be fine.

"Let's head back to the others," Sanji says. Zoro follows the cook. They walk in silence. And once again, Zoro doesn't know just what to think.

The field slowly changed to something more similar to a forest. Trees towered over them with flora and fauna decorating everywhere you looked. And that horrid smell was finally gone, thank god.

Nami didn't look any better. Luffy had been carrying her the entire time, which, in hindsight, was maybe a bit rough on the navigator. Luffy isn't one to slow down. But it was too late to turn back now.

"Where do we even go from here? This place looks like a maze!" Usopp whined, leaning against one of the trees. It was surprisingly bendy, the stem leaning to where Usopp was pushing it.

"Maybe it's best to split up. Then we can cover more ground," Robin suggested.

"Good idea! And again, one thing we'll have to look out for is open spaces and empty patches of ground. That's where it tends to grow really well."

Usopp sighed at what Chopper said. At least they wouldn't have to be crawling on the ground all the time in the hopes of finding it.

"No problemo! Who's joining who?" Franky asked. Before anyone could answer, the tree Usopp was leaning against snapped— like a toothpick. The tree came tumbling down, causing a multitude of birds, it seemed, to swarm overhead. On closer inspection, however, those birds seemed to resemble giant bugs more than anything. Luffy found it awesome— he loves bugs. The others really didn't. And Sanji— seemed indifferent.

Which was wrong. Sanji is deathly afraid of those suckers. Yet now, he simply stood there, lighting his cigarette as he looked up at them.

Zoro would have to start taking notes on him sometime soon.

"Whoops..." Usopp whispered, taking out his slingshot. At least the environment he had found himself in was convenient— perfect, even. This was the type of environment plants and life in general tends to thrive in. Sort of, anyway.

One of the gigantic bugs came swooping down, its legs extending to grab whatever found itself in its way.

Which, by the way, happened to be Brook. The skeleton yelped, almost dropping his hat as he was scooped up by the beetle.

"Hey!" Luffy yelled out. Gently enough, he handed Nami over to Franky and extended his arm to grab onto the bug, now being pulled along by it. In a way, it almost felt like flying.

Robin used her devil-fruit to 'toss' herself over to Luffy, latching onto him just in time to join him in their pursuit of Brook. The flock of bugs followed the beetle, which left the three separated from the rest in a not so intentional way.

"I swear it wasn't my fault! That tree fell by itself!" Usopp exclaimed in a panic, holding his hands up defensively.

"No one's blaming you," Sanji reassured.

"That...uh, sucks. But they'll be fine. This is Luffy we're talking about. Let's just get to searching I suppose." Jinbei sighed out. Such a dry environment wasn't optimal, but he'd live. They'd all live.

Jinbei shortly glanced over at Nami.

Damnit.

—

For once, Luffy wasn't fond of bugs. Not this one. Not when they were trying to harm his friends— no, his family. In no way would he let that slide. Why Robin decided to tag along, Luffy doesn't know, not that he minded it in the slightest anyway. The wind was harsh against his skin as the beetle soared through the sky with Brook in its front leg. He fit into it almost perfectly seeing as his waist was pretty damn small and boney.

The beetle eventually landed on a tree— it didn't bend this time. Odd. But Luffy paid it no mind. All he needed to do was make sure Brook was safe. When he looked down, he saw that the skeleton was dropped down onto the ground and immediately swooped up by someone else. Where was this all coming from?! Luffy groaned in frustration, looking down at the ground with a frown.

"Luffy," Robin said. She wiped down whatever dirt had latched onto her clothes, smiling in the way she always does. Classic Robin fashion.

"We have to chase after him! There's no time! You saw that other guy with him, didn't you?"

"I did, don't worry. We have to at least plan this out a little bit."

Luffy nodded. He doesn't like plans— not like he really follows them anyway. He didn't follow Law's plans, and the raid at Onigashima was definitely improvised for the most part. It wasn't like Luffy would've known he was able to access Gear five.

"I know. I already made a plan though," Luffy smiled, looking down at the ground once more. The man was now gone— wait, he was gone? Luffy scanned his surroundings repeatedly until he was absolutely sure that the man who had taken Brook had flat-out disappeared. Come on! Welp, no plan needed anymore.

"Crap, Robin he's gone!" Luffy exclaimed, wrapping his arm around her waist and jumping down. The beetle disappeared as they did, now no longer in sight. Out of sight, out of mind. As long as it stopped causing them trouble, Luffy didn't see the need to fight it.

The landing wasn't rough, but nowhere near cushioned. Not that Luffy cared. He put Robin down and looked behind bushes, around stones, anything really to find a trace of the guy. Was he sky-walking or something? The ground seemed untouched.

"Let me assist," Robin said. She crossed her arms over one another and hummed her all too familiar 'Cien Fleur ', eyes now popping up all over the place. It didn't take long for her to figure out where the man was headed with Brook, as she dashed off with Luffy following suit.

If this was going to be a repeated topic during their stay here on the silly-sky island, then they'd have to hurry and find that flower Chopper wanted to find. Else they'd be chasing one another more than actually searching. And that wasn't good.

Luffy hated seeing Nami like that. He was sure the others weren't a fan either, but this was now the second time this had happened. Just how many more times would she fall ill? Three times? Five times? Twelve?

It remains a mystery to what even caused her to fall as ill as she did. Couldn't have been something she ate— Sanji wouldn't let that kind of stuff happen. His food was always amazing and tasty and safe. So, the fact that a thought like that even dared to enter his mind made him mad. At himself, not Sanji.

They silently continued on— as silently as they could, anyway. Their path was full of leaves, the crunchy kind too. Luffy never minded the crunchy leaves, but right now he did. They needed to be at least a little stealthy! That's how sneaking up on people works. You're silent, and then you're not.

The man seemed swift. Swifter than Luffy liked. Not that it'd pose an issue. He'd just hit him really really hard, and then he'd force him to give Brook back. Punching people usually does the job fairly well.

"Oh, loneliness, my dear ol' pall, what have I done to have you treat me so well," Brook sang aloud, his voice faint but still noticeable. Luffy peaked through a bunch of leaves that Robin kindly lifted up for him using a couple extra llimbs, now getting a clearer view of the man. He was wearing very little clothing, a mere cloth that draped from his shoulder covering him up. A satchel sat neatly on his hip, holding more than just a couple of items, from what Luffy could tell. Else it wouldn't bulge like that.

"Can it, I've heard enough of your singing." The man snapped, now having finished tying Brook up. The rope work was sloppy, but not too sloppy, if that made sense. It's just kind of hard to tie up a skeleton is all.

"What's your name even? I have at least been kind enough to introduce myself," Brook pouted with his nonexistent lips. Most likely he was playing along because he simply wanted to, which was to be expected in a sense. The skeleton seemed nowhere near stressed, maybe a bit tense, sure. But truly, it seemed like he enjoyed annoying the guy.

"Fine! God damnit, my name's Morly. Ya happy now?" The man, now identified as Morly (what a silly name), hissed.

"Yes, definitely." Brook responded. It remained quiet for the next twenty or so seconds before the skeleton opened his mouth again. Morly almost threw his satchel at him.

"What do you even need me for? I must say, I am only a mere skeleton. If you wanted my assistance for something you could have asked."

"I need a sacrifice. I've been stuck on this shitty island because the villagers near Spring bay won't let me leave even if I have a raft, and that's the only sail-able exit and entrance. So, I'm going to try and sacrifice you to the island's heart and see if that does anything."

"Wait wait wait hold on— I must have misheard. Sacrifice, you say?" Brook questioned, now more tense than he was before. This wasn't good. And it only brought up more questions. Heart of the island? This island was alive ? Or was there a god? Like Enel? And how come that near Spring bay (which Luffy assumed to be the village from the angry gun-wielding people from before) was the only entrance? Were there more rocky walls around the island then? Too many questions with too little answers. Luffy thought his head might explode.

"You heard me. I am going to be sacrificing you. A creature as strange as you must get accepted by it," Morly muttered.

"A creature ? I assure you that I am just as human as the next person, even if I lack flesh around my bones!"

"I honestly could not care less." Morly growled, picking Brook up and hoisting him over his shoulder. He was light enough to be carried off like that. In that moment, the skeleton made eye contact (even though there were no eyes in his skull) with Luffy. And the laugh he let out was heartwarming.

"What's so funny? Did you lose your mind or something?"

"I assure you I do not have one, my dear friend," Brook responded. The skeleton winked at Luffy (somehow even though he has no eyebrows—you get the point) in a way that made Luffy grin just as brightly as Brook did. Robin sighed, getting as ready as she could to join in on the fight that would surely go down.

Before either of them could even do anything, however, a bundle of veins shot up from the earth, the color of them as odd as the sky. Morly turned to face Luffy and Robin, raising his hand up, the veins following the movement of his hand. It had wrapped itself tightly around the two, restricting their movement. Robin couldn't use her devil fruit if she was unable to cross her arms—which fucking sucked. Luffy wasn't off any better than her, his hands restricted next to his side, covered by the vein.

"How nice! Now I'll have more people to sacrifice."

Chapter Text

Sanji had never felt better in his life, really. This newfound calmness he felt coursing through his veins made him more alert. And the more aware Sanji became, the better he'd be able to protect his dear, dear Nami. Such a shame she fell ill. In the middle of the Grand line, no less. Nothing she can't handle though. Sanji knew for a fact she was strong. A silly little illness wouldn't take her out just like that.

One would need more than that to bring her down.

The cook watched as his captain and his dear Robin flung themselves towards the skeleton. Of course something had to disturb them. Nothing ever went as smoothly as he hoped it would. Whatever plans were made got thrown out the window real fucking quickly most of the time. That meant they had no back-up plans for if something went south. Which it usually did, anyway. Almost south enough for Sanji to get goosebumps from it.

Sanji flicked his lighter in his hand, toying with the cap as the flame jumped up and down from the movement. It had a nice blue color to it that reflected off the golden lighter. Kind of like when the moon shines down onto the sea— the light reflecting off the waves merges quite well with the blue of the ocean it grazes.

Sanji could resonate with that. The wildness of the sea, crashing itself against ships and taking up space, the thrill it brought— all that felt like home.

Yet, it was as if there were no ships to sail the waters on. Or rather, no water to carry the ships further on their voyage.

Sanji opened and closed his palm, stretching his fingers. A cramp shot itself up Sanji's arm.

The cook sighed. No time to bitch and moan over something as dumb as his feelings— even if he did feel strangely neutral.

"The sooner we find it the better," Chopper mumbled. He seemed down. But who wouldn't be? His friends were getting scooped up left and right, and one of them just so happened to have fallen severely ill. The doctor straightened his back and took a breath before he started to walk off. Jinbei went into a similar direction, Franky (still with Nami in his arms) went further north, and Usopp remained somewhat stationary, fumbling with the hem of his shirt before marching off.

Seems like Zoro didn't want to walk by himself, seeing as the man didn't move. Fine then. Sanji took a drag of his cigarette, biting on the filter for a moment before he got moving. Zoro quietly followed behind.

What he wanted, Sanji did not know. But one thing he did know was that this was getting on his nerves. The constant watching that is. He wasn't some sort of zoo animal.

Sanji felt like he could gauge the man's eyeball out. But that would be oh-so rude! So, a cigarette it was.

"I thought you were afraid of bugs," Zoro says. Sanji shrugs, not wanting to bother with a response. So it stays silent for a moment.

Sanji was unsure if he should blame the atmosphere or the swordsman for this sticky feeling in his throat. Though it might as well be the cigarettes. Sanji doesn't remember having smoked this much in a long, long time. After Onigashima he went through at least three packs in one go, causing him to stock up a little. But now— he'd already gone through about half his stash.

It's not as if Sanji doesn't know why. He's guilty of knowing. Very guilty even. The cook had something....different, in mind, rather than searching for some dumb flower. But having the stupid swordsman around him— it gave Sanji a headache. He couldn't work like this. Not if he was being followed and watched and stared at with eyes— or an eye, rather— so full of love Sanji thought he might puke.

Gross fucker that he was. Couldn't he see that Sanji didn't want him here? That it would be better if he fucked right off? Because if anyone were to have something wrong with them, it's Zoro. How rude of the bastard to assume Sanji had anything wrong with him!

Sure. In a way, Sanji understands the swordsman's motives. He's worried about his lover. No shit that Zoro would keep his eye glued onto him like a hawk watching its prey, but that didn't make it any less annoying.

Sanji felt something caress the back of his hand. Zoro tried to hold it, his callused finger wrapping itself around Sanji's thumb, gently tugging at it.

"Hey. I love you," Zoro muttered under his breath.

Yeah alright. How was Sanji even supposed to react to that? He held his breath, biting his lip, a nod being the only thing Zoro got in response. Slowly, Sanji slid his hands out of Zoro's grasp, putting them in his pocket. His skin tingled, the pressure lingering.

Zoro looked at the ground with an expression Sanji couldn't make out as to just what it meant. A mix of disappointment and anger with a hint of sadness, the cook guessed. Could be wrong though.

"M' not in the mood," Sanji said after a little too long. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, taking a step away from the swordsman.

It must feel like a punch to the gut to hear. Not that Sanji would know. Pain is something you can physically feel. That distinction made all the difference here. Why would he bother with emotional pain when physical pain just so happened to be easier to understand?

It stayed silent for a moment longer. Sanji took a last drag of his cigarette and dropped it to the ground, pressing his heel on it. The filter was grinded into the dirt, its light sizzle barely noticeable.

"Did I do something wrong?" Zoro asked— almost pleaded, even. The cook remained unresponsive, another cigarette being lit. The swordsman grabbed it from his mouth the moment he could, crushing it in his hand. Zoro could feel his skin burn.

Sanji almost laughed. Almost. The fear behind the swordsman's eye was too noticeable. But then again, maybe only he noticed. Maybe he noticed because he just did. One could nearly call it amusing.

Poor bastard. Poor, poor fucking bastard. It's a sight for sore eyes.

"I'm sorry okay? I really am," Zoro continued, "I don't know what I did to make you so fucking pissed but whatever it was, I really am sorry. Please, just talk to me."

Desperation dwelt in the depths of his voice. Heeps of it. Mountains, one could even say. So fucking laughable.

"Zoro—” Sanji began, only to be cut off by a most familiar laugh. Brook's laugh, to be precise. A yelp followed soon enough, accompanied by the rustle (or tremble, really, the ground seemed to steadily vibrate under his feet) of the earth. That didn't sound good.

"How nice! Now I'll have more people to sacrifice," Morly laughs. Luffy yells out, wriggling in the veins their grasp. Thorns cut through his skin, a small puddle of blood forming under Luffy. He didn't appear to care much, his struggling not slowing down.

"Let me go!" Luffy yells out, biting the vein in an attempt to force it off him. That ended with Luffy spitting out some aloe-vera type plant, the goo dripping off his tongue painfully slowly.

"Why would I? I've been stuck here for way too long now, why don't you try surviving in a forest like this all on your own? Let's see how you like it."

Morly clenched his fist, the vein tightening itself around Robin and Luffy like it was trying to squeeze their organs out of their bodies. Robin groaned in pain, a bit of blood now dripping down her leg as well. Sanji clicked his tongue. This was exactly what he meant— no one had planned for a devil-fruit attack. No one had a plan to get out of a situation like this. And it's not like Luffy won't be able to destroy the guy. Sanji simply doesn't like wasting time.

The blonde took a glance at the situation from afar. The guy who had them in his grasp did not look terrifying or hard to take on in any way, shape, or form. A couple of plants weren't going to kill them.

Zoro was about to rush into battle, taking Wado out of its sheath. Sanji held him back, raising his hand to stop him in his tracks.

"What are you doing?" Zoro whisper yelled. At that moment, Luffy's leg stretched out, kicking Morly as hard as he could in the position he was in and knocking him down. The veins released them from its grip. Oh. Well, that works too.

"You-" Morly growled, more veins shooting at them from the earth. Luffy grabbed ahold of the stem and launched himself up, now hanging from a nearby tree. Some blood ran down his leg and landed on Brook's face.

"Cien Fleur! " Robin spoke, now finally being able to cross her arms. A sea of limbs appeared and wrapped itself around Morly, only for it to fall apart a moment later as he summoned yet another vein— it launched her off, though Robin managed to catch herself before touching the ground.

"This isn't our battle. Let's go," Sanji hummed. Zoro stared at the cook, his eye as wide as saucers.

Yet another mental note taken.

Zoro didn't know what to do with an answer like that. There's no way Sanji meant what he said. Zoro frowned, grabbing Sanji's wrist in an attempt to force him to let him through. The cook looked at Zoro's fist. What a ruffian. Did he not care for his hands? Most likely not— what did he even expect from someone like him?

"You can't be serious," Zoro hissed, "if you're going to stand around at least let me through. I don't see why the hell I can't fight."

"Because it's not our battle. Are you deaf? I just told you that." Sanji responded. He sounded as calm as a saint, yet the venom dripping from his words didn't seem to correlate. Sanji forced his arm back, locking his eyes with Zoro's.

If the tension between them wasn't noticeable enough yet, it most definitely was now. Zoro hasn't ever seen Sanji act so out of pocket. Whatever speculations he already had were slowly but surely confirming themselves. And he didn't even have to do anything to  try and find out if paranoia befell him or if he was just overly worried because of absolutely nothing.

But could he? Could he do something? To stop what this was? To help? Would Sanji accept that help? He'd kick him in the head, Zoro knew that much. Should he tell Luffy? When the fight finished itself up, that is. Jinbei perhaps? Chopper? No, he already had a lot on his mind. That'd only make the doctor worry over things he shouldn't be worrying over.

A chill crawled up Zoro's spine. Too many questions that Zoro doesn't have the time to think about. He needed Sanji to act right. Like how he usually does. Like the man that he fell in love with, damnit. Not this. Sure, they have their quarrels from time to time, but this was nothing like it. Genuine anger has never presented itself during their arguments. Zoro's sure that that's what Sanji felt.

Anger. Hatred, even. Fuck him, disgust would be a viable option too. And can't forget the combination of the three.

Luffy crashed the tree he hung from down quite literally next to the two. Seven more veins shot up from the earth, all moving in sync as it attacked. Sanji jumped up into the air and continued to hover, simply watching. He couldn't be bothered.

Luffy swung his fist back and clashed against the vein, goopy bits splattering all over. A humongous leg emerged behind Morly, stomping some of the veins. Robin groaned, the thorns piercing her flesh. This time around it left behind nasty transparent orange gunk, sticking to the sole of her foot. Zoro attacked the remaining vein, slicing it into bits tiny enough to be served up on a plate.

"Where are you all coming from?! With how many are you all?!" Morly growled in frustration, his satchel almost dropping from his waist.

"With more than enough people. Mind explaining what's going on here, Luffy?" Zoro says. Might as well try to push it to the back of his mind a little. Pretend Sanji is fine. At least until he's accepted the reality of what's going on. Then he would act.

"Oh, this guy wants to sacrifice us to some stupid island-heart because he's been stuck here for a while. I dunno. Wanne beat his ass?" Luffy grins, rolling his shoulder back and getting ready to attack.

"Don't have to ask me twice."

Sanji watches the fight go down from the sky, and how the three seem to have the guy beat soon enough. It gave him enough time to smoke another cigarette, so Sanji doesn't mind.

Zoro continued to be an issue. Despite his stoic little act, trying so desperately to make it seem as if he doesn't care, Sanji knows that he's going to keep pestering him. And Sanji would have to simply deal with it. He has no other choice! He couldn't risk anything— not when it's been so, so long since he's been gone. Since he last saw them. Well— at least as a comrade, and not an enemy.

—

It's been forever since Sanji was last allowed to exit the island, if you could even call this wretched kingdom that. Out of the four other siblings he had, Father had a weird fascination for him specifically. He tested Sanji to whatever limit Father thought he could make him go past, since the others weren't as....capable, Father had called it. They were strong, no doubt about that, but Sanji was different. Different in a way that made him more durable. In a way that made him stronger. In a way that made him Father's favorite— something Sanji despised. Why couldn't he have picked Ichiji? Or Rejiu, for fuck's sake? She was the eldest. Why didn't Father spend his time with her? Sanji hated all the testing. Hated the feeling of needles piercing his supposed to be impenetrable skin. Hated the 'feeling' of being left alone to see what prolonged exposure to phosphorus gas would do to him.

So, when Sanji was told he had to go on a mission for something (at the age of eight, mind you) he felt ecstatic. The last time he'd been allowed out was on a 'family trip' to some island that Father wanted to have blasted off the face of the earth about a year ago. It ended up being a surprisingly fun trip. Especially hearing the screams from whomever their attacks hit echo through the air. Yonji laughed at it— Niji too. Sanji didn't really see the need to.

Some sort of 'magical' artifact-rock-thing in the shape of a heart. No other information was provided for what he was supposed to look for on this mission. Very specific. Sanji had memorized the route to the island it resided at, feeling maybe a bit too confident in his abilities. And, although Sanji's strength flourished, he couldn't go up against mother nature and expect to win. Which is exactly how, when an unexpected storm arose not too far off in the distance whilst on their way to the desired island, Sanji ended up alone on a baren rock formation as the sole survivor.

He waited for days, expecting a Germa submarine fleet to come pick him up at some point.

But nobody came.

The days turned into weeks. The weeks turned into months. His tiny legs felt stiff from sitting for hours on end each day. He wasn't used to being able to just sit and not do anything. Thank whomever that he was able to go without food just fine for a long while. That's one thing he's thankful of Germa for.

It seemed like storms were common in this area. Sanji sat through hurricane after hurricane, watching ships sink and men plead for their lives, yet unable to help— not that he wanted to. But still. At some point, a man with blonde hair and a missing leg managed to get stuck here just like him. Their first interaction was.....memorable. Instead of fear, the man showed him empathy. Kindness. It send a shiver up Sanji's spine. Which was new. And weird. And shouldn't have happened but it did somehow.

"Here," the strange man had said as he offered Sanji a soggy piece of bread from a bag he had with him, "you must be starving."

Sanji didn't know just what happened after that. He doesn't understand why the man insisted on giving him food. He couldn't even deny it. The man had tried to force-feed him once, and never in Sanji's life was that happening again.

Another month or so passed by, but still no ship in sight that wasn't sinking. The days strung together. The hours felt like months. Every waking moment Sanji hoped someone were to come help him— yet his hope remained a fabrication.

"Y'know, kid," the man mumbled. Sanji hadn't asked for him to sit beside him. He hated it. But the company was pleasant, in a way.

"If we ever get out of this hell, I'm opening a floating sea restaurant. It's been a dream of mine for a long time now. Even from before getting stranded here," the man continued, "I was wondering, if that were to ever be the case, if you would want to help me build it? Or at least stay with me there. I can imagine it being hard without your family or friends."

At the time, Sanji didn't know just what to say. Maybe the old geezer had lost his marbles from being out in the open for too long. But he seemed so serious at the time. So, Sanji accepted. Guessed the geezer would die before him. Guessed he'd return home after a while.

But damnit, the bastard was persistent.

When a ship came around during calm weather, the two of them screamed and flailed as hard as they could. After way too long, Sanji was finally free from that damned rock.

His focus now should have been returning to Germa, to his family, to the people he knew cared for him. Yet something compelled him to stay. Maybe it was the man's laughter when the restaurant finished building. Maybe it was the hope that the man seemed to have— just in general, really. In a way, it was admirable. Or maybe Sanji just felt like staying.

Those grim days of test after test in the darkness of a laboratory were over. Zeff, was the man's name, had helped him in a way.

At some point, Sanji's hair started acting up. It changed from its mat-black color to blonde, like Zeff's. It was strange, but he didn't mind. Blonde suited Sanji just as much as black anyway.

Ah, right. Almost forgot about the broadcast. Sanji didn't remember how long it had been since he last had contact with Germa, but apparently, they had deemed it to be too long. A vague radio broadcast revealed to Sanji that they thought he was dead. A funeral had been held, too. There was no reason for Sanji to feel bad about it however— he could return at any time.

But he didn't.

Years passed, and he stayed at the restaurant, learning the ins and outs of the kitchen and how to work one. At some point Sanji had skimmed through a book about the 'All Blue', an ocean rumored to contain all sorts of sea life. Since then, it had been the blonde's dream to see it with his own two eyes, no matter how long it might take. Something about it just pulled him in.

Then Luffy came along. And boy, was that an adventure. Still is! It still is. But right now, Sanji is starting to doubt himself. About everything. About why he never returned. About whether going with the Strawhats was ever a good idea to begin with. About if getting himself into this mess was ever worth it to begin with.

After they left Wano. That's when the doubt started to really settle in. Sure, the wedding with pudding was....something. Nowhere near positive. But they knew he was alive. His family knew he was breathing. A lot of question marks arose when Sanji made it more than clear he didn't want to stay.

What a dumb move that was.

At least he could make it up to them now! At least Sanji could finish what he was sent out to do! To find this artifact. To deliver it to Father. To make his family proud.

After all, it remained no secret to Sanji as to why Nami 'suddenly' fell ill. This island, its name being 'Isle Amands Dei' (it's supposed to have a meaning as well, but Sanji couldn't be bothered to remember) was where the artifact resides. And the cook would make sure that he'd get his hands on it, no matter the cost.

He'd been so naive. So, so naive. But at least life seemed to be steering him back in the right direction now.

He needed to get that artifact as soon as possible and get out.

—

Usopp's specialty is sniping. His second specialty is nature and wildlife. Neither were useful right now. Usopp could try and snipe down some bugs flying overhead, but they didn't even seem to notice him in the first place, so what use did that really have? And the plant life on this island was unlike anything he'd ever seen! Usopp felt tempted to take a break for a while and take his time scouting the area to study the wildlife here. None of the roots on any of these trees were in his little book of knowledge, let alone if he could even guess what species it is in the first place.

Usopp sighed. That'd come later. He had a mission to focus on and that was finding that flower Chopper had requested. Nami was more important than his curiosity, although Usopp had to admit his curiosity held him in a chokehold.

Something about this island, however, it made him feel nervous. Not in the way he usually does, though. That comes and goes in waves, or at least he thinks it does. This.....felt more like he was drowning. Like his hands had been tied to his torso and prevented him from swimming back up to the surface, suffocating.

Simply put, not a pleasant feeling.

Call it a gut feeling if you will. Like there's a creature slouching on your shoulder telling you things you wished it had kept to itself. That's the best way Usopp could try to describe the feeling of fright he felt clawing at his back.

This island felt odd. They've been to strange islands before no doubt— it just so happened to be that this island came across as a different type of odd. The type that Robin reads about in her books, for example. And speaking of, what the hell was up with Sanji all of a sudden? Not being scared of bugs? No screams of terror at seeing something as humongous as that? Usopp took pride in his admiration and knowledge when it came to the tiny creatures (and of course the mockery towards the cook, can't forget that), so what was that about? People don't just get over their fears overnight. Usopp groaned, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets. Now he can't pick on him anymore.

Usopp gazed up at the sky, its color still a very bright fucking purple because of course it is! Totally a normal occurrence that isn't going to end up being the death of him and his friends, no, the sky is actually supposed to be purple! The Grand Line is simply a little silly.

What a mess this was.

The trees around the sniper seemed to disperse, making way for Usopp. What polite trees. A lone patch of grass covered by gravel stood amid this seemingly spherical ring of trees. In said patch, a flower sat, standing tall and alone. And Usopp's jaw dropped to the fucking ground.

He hadn't expected this in the slightest. He's not one to get a lot of things done when it comes to missions or tasks suchlike this, or at least he thinks so. But he must be doing something right, seeing that Luffy really does wants him on the crew. Usopp grimaced to himself at the thought. Oh Luffy...

The sniper plucked the flower from its stem, being careful not to tear anything important off. Usopp had no idea if this was the right version of it, but it's better than nothing. He placed the flower into a container he carried with him, being careful not to hurt it as it was placed into his bag. Right! Now to find the others.

Or maybe not. Maybe, instead of searching for them, a tree would crash right in front of Usopp and almost kill him, revealing an ongoing battle against a guy wearing some kind of animal hide and a bunch of roots and veins.

That worked too.

"Hey! Luffy! Robin! Zoro!" Usopp yelled out, waving at them from an acceptable distance. Morly snarled at him, causing Usopp to take a very big couple of steps away from him.

"Oh! Usopp! Hi! Nice seeing you here too!" Luffy responded mid-punch. The vein splattered into tiny blobs, just as it had been doing for the past couple of punches.

"I found the flower! Do you have any idea where Chopper might be?"

"Nope," Luffy replied, swinging himself back and forth across trees as if he were parkouring, much to Morly's annoyance.

"I'll just leave this up to you lot! Good luck!" Usopp squealed as he ran off about as fast as the wind. Rather them than him.

Usopp ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He got the flower, now just to find Chopper in this maze of a forest. He'd find him in no time! There's no way he won't, right? I mean, it's just another forest out of the thousands Usopp has already been through. Just because there were massive bugs flying overhead that would probably eat him if he didn't pay attention didn't make it any less of a forest! It just made it a forest Usopp would rather not be in.

And luckily for Usopp, Chopper dwelled not too far off where he had found himself before. The sharpshooter waved, catching his breath as he tossed the container with the flower in it to the doctor.

"What?! You found it already?!" Chopper shrieked, a smile forming on his face.

"Yeah," Usopp replied, "but uh, a little fight of sorts did kick off, so you might want to hurry it up a little."

"I'm on it! Thanks a bunch," the doctor spoke. Chopper sat down and got to work, messing with a bunch of tools Usopp couldn't even begin to guess as to what they were. The sharpshooter crouched down and sat against one of the trees, this time making sure that it wouldn't fall over. He didn't plan on having that happen again.

Now he had to wait. Wait and hope that this flower ends up being the correct version and get out of here as soon as possible. This island was giving him the creeps...

—

In a way, Zoro was glad he got to fight. Glad he got to do something. Glad he got to take his mind off Sanji for a while. What wasn't so buoyant however, was that that fucker Morly kept using dirty little tricks to quite literally throw him off. He doesn't remember how many times he's been tossed around. A lot, anyway. And the gooey orange substance kept sticking to his clothes. At some point, it started to itch. No big deal. Zoro can deal with itches.

But this, however, was different. The itch turned into a burning sensation, giving an almost acidic reaction to any contact with his skin. Zoro wasn't the only one who noticed it— Luffy's movements got more distracted the longer the goop stuck to him, as was with Robin. In conclusion, not a good thing. It's not as if Morly comes across as extraordinarily strong either. And from what Zoro's noticed, he isn't. But the veins popping up everywhere, every damn second— it didn't help.

And Sanji didn't either. The bastard didn't even offer to.

Another vein attacked him, pushing him back into one of the trees. Zoro's eyes went wide, a gasp and a cough escaping him. The inside of his mouth tasted metallic. Great.

That wasn't even what he felt most worried about. His back— his back scathed against the tree. Zoro knew for a fact he heard fabric rip. He knew for sure something had happened. Damnit, damnit, damnit he is supposed to protect his back! Even a minor scratch would ruin everything! He'd have to ask someone to check it out for him sooner or later....Zoro gnawed at the inside of his cheek. This ends here and now.

"Luffy! Robin! Get it together!" He yelled out. Without wasting yet another second, Zoro lashed out— almost as if it were instinct. Morly dropped Brook and propelled off into the distance with Zoro still hot on his trail. He wanted answers. He wanted to know just what Morly planned on doing with his family. And what the orange goop does, exactly.

With a loud enough groan, Morly crashed into the ground, hitting his head in a way Zoro was sure he'd have a headache for the next couple of weeks. Zoro aimed the blade at his neck, his eyes never leaving the man.

"I will not repeat myself," Zoro started, his voice a deep growl. Morly nodded, the blade gently grazing at his neck.

"Good. Now what the fuck was that? You were planning on sacrificing Brook, right? To whom even? There is no higher power that will help you. All your stupid cries for help will forever go unheard. All you did was make a mistake that might just cost you your life," Zoro spat.

And the laugh that Morly let out made him think the man had a death wish.

There was no fear in his eyes. No fear in his stance. No fear in his voice. No fear to be seen anywhere— is it ignorance, or stupidity? Hell if Zoro knows. Morly gripped at the edge of Wado's blade, pushing it away from his face.

"All I'm trying to do is get away from this cursed island. You don't know what resides here! I've seen things— otherworldly things, you wouldn't believe me unless you've seen them with your own two eyes! The sky is that color for a reason!" Morly slowly crawled back against one of the trees. Zoro frowned. First, he laughs, acts like everything is all peachy, then— this? How sad.

"Please, I beg of you, I won't be a pain ever again if you just leave and take me with you!"

Maybe fear wasn't the right word to use here. Anxiety? Hm...not so much.

"What do you mean 'otherworldly '? Do you think I'll take pity on you just because of some shitty sob-story?"

"I swear! It's the truth! The heart of this island, it's cursed! I- I thought if I gave it someone it would be kind enough to let me out!"

Well. That didn't sound good. If it wasn't letting this guy out, in whatever way it may be restricting him— then what about Zoro? His friends? If this island really were cursed, they would have a problem. And a big one at that. Zoro scratched his chin, sighing.

"And why do you think I'll believe you? I don't know you, let alone trust you. For all I know, you could be lying to my face right now. Do you—"

Before Zoro could finish, the earth flared up, a large cloud of dust rising, causing the swordsman to jump back. He knew it. Morly was lying through his teeth, how could he have been so stupid to even consider he may be telling the truth? Zoro stood alone, which, in the enemies' eyes, made him seem like an easier target. He understood his reasoning all too well. And in a sense, Zoro would have done the same if he was in Morly's position.

Is what the swordsman would have thought, if Morly had actually attacked.

As the dust settled, Zoro got a better sight as to what exactly unfolded, more than ready to attack. The silhouette of someone standing proudly rose, the all too familiar sound of a lighter being flicked open coming from the curtain of dust.

"Don't know why you were trying to stall his death, moss," Sanji spoke casually, "that's not how you usually do things."

The blonde took a drag of his newly lit cigarette, stepping away from the body. The cuffs of Sanji's pants were stained crimson, leaving behind a bloodied footprint. He wore a smirk undeserving of its place.

Zoro had no intention of killing Morly. Zoro doesn't even like killing people. When it does happen, sure, it sucks. But most of the time it's not intentional. Sanji knows this— and Zoro thinks he knows the same about him.

Guess he was wrong.

The swordsman glanced over at the body. Morly's head had a dent in it. One might even think his head had gotten crushed by a boulder. His eyes hung lazily out of their sockets, bits and pieces of his skull scattered all over the place. As if he resembled a bug, having gotten crushed beneath someone's sole.

Someone that Zoro didn't know if he could trust anymore.

"Come, Usopp has found the flower by now. Let's head back." Sanji grabbed ahold of Zoro's arm, tugging at it. He remained unresponsive. How does one even make sense of a situation like this? Ignore it and move on? Pretend that it was an oopsie? Accept that this man, whilst his hands felt as familiar as ever, was not his man anymore?

"Zoro?"

"Yeah," he muttered, keeping his head low. Sanji took the lead, walking ahead of him as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't just killed a man. As if that were normal. Zoro silently followed, his eyes glued onto the grip Sanji had on him.

His fingers looked the same. They felt the same. Hell, he smelled the same as he's always done— yet it felt too different to be real. Morly was fucking dead. Sanji had killed that man and now Zoro had more questions than answers. Didn't even get to ask about what the orange gunk did.

That remained the least of his issues at the moment. At least the flower had been found. Now to hope it was the right one.

—

"And?" Usopp asked. He had been anticipating this for too long now, his curiosity growing with the minute. Chopper hummed, still busy with whatever instruments he had been toying with for the past twenty or so minutes now. The rest of the crew had found one another after luckily not too long— so now all that was left to do was wait and see. Robin and Luffy had gone to wash up in a nearby pond, to at least get the bigger pieces of goop off them. They hadn't yet asked what happened to Morly, either.

Zoro didn't think he could wait much longer. He probably could, just doesn't think he would be able to is all. At least, that's what Sanji thought. Why else would the swordsman be as fidgety as he was? But then again, it's not that Sanji is unaware what might be going through the swordsman's head. He must be so confused. So irritated. Frustrated. Pissed right the fuck off, too.

Sanji had no choice though.

If Morly would have dared to so much as utter even a little bit about this island's secrets, then Sanji would be on thin ice. Not immediately of course, but the possibility of something happening didn't sit right with him. So he wouldn’t let it happen.

Sanji didn't really pay a lot of attention to the conversation they were having either— but the moment he heard him speak of the islands' heart? That's when he knew things might just go south.

Emphasis on might, anyway. Now, peace and 'quiet' have been restored.

"Dangit! I'm sorry, Nami, Usopp, it's not this one..." Chopper sighed, "but at least now we won't have to stay here! It's so humid..."

"You're right, it makes my skin crawl. Not that I really have skin though!" Brook laughed, just as he always has. At least he didn't seem to mind what had happened. Although Sanji could very well be wrong about that. It remained difficult for Sanji to read the man, seeing as there wasn't much to read. Still a skeleton, after all.

"Shouldn't we continue to scout the area though? There might very well be another one around," Jinbei suggested. Fair point. Sanji hadn't really thought about that. How tedious.

"Well...yes, and no. I want to get Nami feeling better as soon as possible so it would seem like the logical thing to do, but even if we find more here, the chance they'll do anything good is miniscule seeing as we'd still be in the same climate. Our best bet is to search for the flower in every new environment we encounter. This is the third change of scenery we've had up until this point, so I'm sure it won't take us too long before we get the opportunity to do so again!" Chopper exclaimed. The equipment returned to its original place inside of his bag, no trace left behind.

"Then we'll do that instead. Thank you, Chopper," Jinbei replied with a smile.

It didn't take long for the lot of them to carry on with their trail. Sanji walked behind, small clouds of smoke trailing abaft him. He remained at a reasonable distance, not too close nor too far. Yet, for some oafish reason, Brook had decided that walking next to him was a good fucking idea and that he should totally 'keep him company'. Wasn't it obvious he didn't want that?

"My, Sanji," Brook began, "you seem awfully hot under the collar. Why is that?"

"I'm not? It just sucks we'll have to have Nami dearest wait for a remedy is all," Sanji responded. What was Brook trying to get at here? He felt fine. He acted fine. Maybe a little different than usual but that's to be expected in a way, the cook guessed.

"I do agree, it is quite the tragedy. I merely wonder why you seemed so....how do I phrase this," Brook mumbled. He rubbed his non-existent chin with his boney fingers, humming for a moment.

"Disjoint, yes. What troubles you so?"

"Nothing, Brook. I am fine." Sanji pressed his nails into his palm to distract himself from getting irrationally angry. All the skeleton asked was if he felt okay. That's nothing to get irritated over.

"Well, if you say so. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'll be all ears, even if I don't have them. Your secrets are safe with me."

"I don't really think I have any secrets, but thanks anyways," Sanji smiled, digging his hands deeper into his pockets. Brook returned the smile, nodding in agreement.

That's when he realized that the fucker knew something. He knew something because Sanji hadn't been careful enough because of course he hadn't been paying attention because of course he had to fail at the one thing he was supposed to do and now he remained a failure because of course he couldn't do the one thing asked of him. Sanji bit at the filter of his cigarette in frustration. It wasn't as if he really saw himself as a failure, but he had failed regardless.

Good fucking grief.

"If you say so. I'll be up ahead with the rest, don't fall too far behind!" Brook chimed as he rejoined the group. Sanji let out a sigh of relief. That was too close for comfort. Much too close for comfort. Sanji was entering hot water with the way he moved about.

Well then. Sanji would have to be more careful the next time he decided to kill a man, he supposed.

The blonde glanced down at his feet— the blood had hardened on his clothes by now. What a waste of a perfectly fine pair of pants. Blood is hard to remove out of clothes! How aggravating. The blonde huffed, glancing up at the swordsman and eying him for a moment.

He'd just have to make the blood seep out of other people's hands the next time. And Sanji knew exactly how he was going to do that.

Chapter Text

"How is it looking?" Zoro mutters quietly. He feels Robin's hand caress his shoulders, gently tracing along the muscles. It feels odd, having anyone but Sanji look, let alone touch his back. Freaks him out in a way. He does trust Robin— of course he does. Sure, when they first met, it was more of a slippery slope than anything. In a way, Zoro is happy that Luffy pushed as much as he had. To keep her with them, and to make sure the entire world knew just who they were going up against.

She remained kind, too. Zoro could admire that.

"It's nothing too bad," Robin responds, "it's only a bruise. I'm guessing it'll fade in a week or so."

Only a bruise. Zoro remains still, a sigh leaving him. A bruise is nothing permanent. He's been bruised and beaten before, he can get over this just the same.

But it wasn't. It wasn't the same. As much as Zoro wanted to think it was, as much as he would try to convince himself, nothing that he's ever been through could compare to this. Fights? Sure. Wounds? No problem! He has plenty of scars anyway. The emotional burden of potentially having to kill your lover? Now that's a new one! It served as more of a distraction than Zoro would like to admit.

"Right," he responded quietly. Robin stood back up, stretching her back a bit as she did. The sun had set by now, the sky darkening to a pitch-black color. Zoro found it more pleasant than having to look up at the color purple throughout the day. Other than him and Robin, the rest of the crew had settled down around a campfire to wind down for the night. Jinbei wanted to take night watch, but Zoro had insisted he takes his time to sleep. The swordsman didn't see why Jinbei needed to if he could stay awake for them.

He could keep an eye on Sanji like that too. The cook hadn't bothered to speak with him after what happened with Morly. Zoro assumed he felt embarrassed, or perhaps Sanji just didn't feel like talking. God forbid he talks to him like the grown adult he his is, right? Zoro doesn't even know why he bothers anymore.

Which was a lie. He does. He knows damned well why he tries. Is it too much? Too little? Should he have fulfilled their promise by now? Should he have put his hands around the blonde's throat and choked him with tears in his eye, begging for him to just— stop? Only time will tell.

"Are you alright?" Robin asked. Zoro shrugged, putting his shirt back on. Franky had been kind enough to stitch the fabric up again, which luckily didn't take too long. He barely noticed the stitch rub up against his skin.

"Just thinking is all." Zoro bit at the inside of his cheek, glancing over at Sanji yet again. The blonde laid still, his back turned to the fire as his chest rose and fell rhythmically with his breathing.

"About?" Robin pushed, "now I'm curious."

"It's nothing important really. Just stuff," Zoro responded. He stood back up, wiping the dirt off his pants. At least the soil felt like actual soil. At least that was still real.

Tonight was going to be a long, long night.

"Hm, alright. If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me. Goodnight," she said. Robin walked over to where Franky had laid himself down and cradled up against him, a gentle smile on her face as she too drifted off to sleep.

Was it that obvious something troubled him? That Brook would have noticed wasn't too odd, but Robin too? He needs to get himself together, that's what.

With a sigh, Zoro found himself a spot not too far from the group. The elevated ground gave him a sufficient view over the lot of them, which was always nice.

Now he had time to think even more than he already has. Zoro ran his hand through his hair. He doesn't know how much longer he can stand back and watch. The promise they made was clear as day; if Sanji acts differently than how he usually does, it stands as Zoro's job to kill him.

But he couldn't. He couldn't do it— not even if he really tried. And it's not as if Zoro hadn't tried to think about doing it. He has. More times than he could count on both his hands combined anyway. It's usually the same thing. He confronts Sanji. He draws his sword. He slices his head clean off.

Zoro feels disgusted by the thought alone.

A promise isn't something you break, though. Zoro doesn't break them no matter what. Not unless something happens which makes it really necessary, although that usually isn't the case. Right now, Zoro wasn't sure anymore. There were too many factors to take into account. Was this temporary? Was it simply a mood swing (and a big one at that)? Could this be stopped without having to rely on extreme measures?

Zoro didn't know what to do. And it's starting to drive him crazy. Telling anyone was not an option. He wasn't even going to consider it. He already told Brook— but he didn't expect anything from the skeleton. Told him too much anyway, no need to drag him down into this mess any further.

Zoro peeped back down at the lot— which is when he noticed Sanji had vanished. Where he once laid, seemingly asleep, was now occupied by empty space. The cook was gone. Zoro felt like screaming. He wasn't fast enough. And now everything was fucked.

Zoro jumped down and ran as fast as his legs could carry him in an attempt to find Sanji. Emphasis on 'attempting', because after way too long Zoro could still not find any trace of him. Maybe a footprint here and there but nothing else. A block formed in his throat. Was this it? Did Sanji just straight up leave? There wasn't even a goodbye Zoro could cling onto. There was nothing he could cling onto at this point. His lungs felt dry from all the running, the feeling of his own body aching being the slightest of distraction from everything.

He lost. He had lost the game Sanji played with him. He lost and now he paid the price and now there was nothing left for Zoro to hold onto anymore and now everything was fucked and—

"Yeah yeah— I know, but it really is me," a voice suddenly said, "but— shut up, I'm trying to— no, I'm— oh fucking hell, since when did you get so whiny?"

Zoro stops in his tracks and holds his breath. Slowly, he took enough steps back to see just who Sanji was talking to. In that moment, Zoro felt more than ready to jump at him from behind and hold him down until he got an explanation. A proper explanation— not just about this....whatever was going on. But about everything. If this is what he meant by 'different'. Zoro doesn't expect much of an answer though, not with how Sanji seems to dismiss practically every single thing asked of him.

Sanji seems to be holding a transponder snail. It has the same weird eyebrow curl as Sanji does, just turned the other way. It had a light marine-blue color with weird little glasses around its eyes, and Sanji seemed pissed at the recipient.

"Look, I don't give two shits about how long it's been. I'm here now, aren't I? And guess what, Niji," Sanji spat, "I'm going to bring back that artifact that Father asked for. Just you fucking watch."

Zoro didn't believe it. He didn't want to. This confirmed his biggest fucking fear. That Sanji was not really his Sanji. Not right now anyway. In a way, Zoro hoped that this wasn't real. That this was all a dream and that he would wake up after a couple of minutes and then be relieved to see Sanji sleeping in the same spot he first saw him in.

But he knew that wouldn't happen. Zoro wasn't dumb. He crouched down and watched the rest of the conversation go on. Sanji remained quiet for a moment, his brows furrowing in a way that could only mean bad news. Zoro couldn't begin to understand just what kind of news Sanji received— but damnit did he hope it would make him stay.

What did anyone do to him to make him want to leave this badly? Sanji has been treated with only kindness from the very beginning, how come he decides to turn on them now? What does Germa— he assumes it's them, maybe there's another Niji out there that Zoro has no knowledge of— want out of him? The only logical explanation for any of this would be blackmail. They must have something to hold him on a leach with. To force him to act the way he does. Until proven otherwise, Zoro will stick with that explanation. It hurts too much to think anything else.

"Are you shitting me? You're kidding right? That's a joke. A very shitty joke. You—” Sanji muttered. For a moment longer it remained quiet. And then he laughed. Sanji sat down, pulling at his hair in frustration for whatever reason. Zoro's only seen him do that a couple of times, so this must be....really, really bad.

"I'm telling you it's true! This one's way better too. Sadly not as durable but he fills your role," Niji replied, "and if he ever dies, we can simply create a second clone. And then a third one. And a fourth, if necessary, and so forth and so on."

"Whatever. I'm going to get this artifact either way, I didn't poison Nami for nothing. if I hadn't, we wouldn't have stopped here. I'm surprised she's not coughing up any blood though, she could very well die within the next couple of days."

"Fancy pants over here," Niji gnarled, "just hurry it up. We'll get rid of the clone when you get back. You can beat the shit out of it yourself if you want."

Clones fucking clones they cloned Sanji that's what they're talking about they cloned him and Sanji sought out contact only to be told that he's been cloned and the only reason they're here is because Sanji poisoned food fucking food? All for a stupid fucking artifact that he 'needed' all of a sudden whilst he wouldn't even do that to Big Mom's cake but now he did and now Nami could die and it would be Sanji's fault and Zoro doesn't know what to do and—

The transponder was slammed down on its shell. Zoro held his breath, not daring to move a muscle. Sanji pocketed the thing, slowly rising from the ground.

"Right," Sanji muttered under his breath. He stretched his back like he hadn't a care in the world, the bang covering his right eye shifting to the side and revealing his other eye for a mere moment. It was a strange sight, seeing him with both his eyes exposed, even if it were only for a second. Made Zoro think back to a time long before Wano. Thriller Bark. How the blonde was so willing and eager to give up his life. How he seemed so sad when he passed out in front of Kuma. The look on his face when he saw the state Zoro was in afterwards. How he hung over him and scolded him for being so reckless. How Zoro had reached out for him and—

"Are you trying to become one with the grass or what?" Sanji snapped— he snapped, and he'd seen him. He'd noticed Zoro was spying on him. Great. Zoro gritted his teeth. Just means he has to try and get better at sneaking up on people.

Zoro grabbed ahold of Sanji, his nails digging into the fabric of the man's clothes. All that the cook did was grin in a way that made Zoro want to punch the smug look he wore clean off his face.

"What the ever-loving fuck is wrong with you?! What did we ever do to you?" Zoro yelled out in frustration. Sanji said nothing. Why would Zoro have expected otherwise?

They looked at one another. Zoro didn't recognize the man in front of him anymore. The look behind his eyes, the way his lips were curled up in such a cruel manner— Sanji knew what he was doing a little too well.

"What are you talking about?" Sanji replied. He cocked his head to the side, not even trying to get Zoro to let go of him.

"Don't. Just don't, please," Zoro pleaded. He didn't know what else to say. Sanji wasn't giving in, Zoro knows too much and now— now what? He can't just let go of this. Not when basically everyone's lives were now at risk. First Nami, then— oh, Zoro didn't want to think about who else might get injured.

"Zoro," Sanji muttered. His hand travelled up to Zoro's cheek, caressing it with his thumb rhythmically. It sent a shiver up his spine. One of want, one of need— one of hope, too. That this was all just a bad fucking dream, and that Zoro would wake up sooner rather than later.

Sanji's lips met his out of nowhere, whatever distance that separated them now nonexistent. The blonde wrapped his arms around Zoro's waist, pulling him even closer than they already were. Zoro kissed back, the smell of the other man intoxicating, filling his lungs. Ah— damnit. Zoro missed this more than he'd like to admit. The closeness, the touch, every single damn thing about this. It's been too fucking long.

Sanji gripped at Zoro's back, digging his nails into the fabric of his shirt, though not yet his skin. He could feel the bruise on his back aching from the touch. It felt pleasurable in a way. Zoro whined— this wasn't enough. Not close enough, not tight enough, and damnit, not safe enough either. Zoro turned his head, the kiss breaking.

Sanji frowned, pressing his lips up against the man's neck, softly nipping at the skin.

"Hey," Sanji whispers, "I'm sorry."

Quiet, almost disturbing silence followed. Zoro exhaled, pressing his palm against Sanji's chest. He could feel the blonde's heartbeat. Steady, calm as that of a saint. He could feel his own heart breaking into millions of pieces all the same.

"No, you're not." Zoro answered after a minute. He couldn't give in. As much as he wanted to, as much as Zoro yearned to hold Sanji— he couldn't. He'd rather have it hurt all at once than have to face this unbearable pain again. But he knew himself too well. No matter what he chooses, it'll still end up hurting. Over and over and over and over a-fucking-gain it'll hurt because Zoro's a coward and he's in love and he can't do more than talk and talk and talk and try but he knows it'll suck no matter what he does.

And all Sanji did in response was smile weakly.

"You must be tired. Let's go back. When's the last time you had a good night's sleep?" The cook asks, cupping the swordsman's face. Zoro shrugs, leaning into the touch.

"Too long ago," Zoro replies. Sanji does have a point. It's been too long since he's had any decent sleep, even if Zoro realizes it's a distraction from the topic at hand. Sanji wrapped his hand around Zoro's. God— the contrast between Sanji's hands and his own were immense. The hard calluses rubbing against soft palms, it made him emotional in a way.

Sanji started to walk, taking the lead as they headed back to the campfire. It had dimmed down to only a mere flicker of a flame, illuminating only fractions of a shadow across the sand. Zoro wanted to lie down— sleep and forget. Ignore all his worries. Sanji hadn't explained a damn thing to him and to be honest, Zoro now knew less than he thought he did.

Zoro sat down in front of the small fire, though still somewhat separated from the rest of the crew, as Sanji did the same, sitting next to the man.

"Are you going to explain yourself or what? You— I don't know what's up, but you keep switching up on me. On everyone. First you didn't even want me touching you and now this? And what was that with the transponder snail? Who were you calling?" Zoro whispered.

Sanji gazed at the fire. That's all he focused on, never once glancing at Zoro. The man bit at his lip, his head cocking to the side.

"You wouldn't understand. I'm sorry, I can't tell you."

"Oh, so I'm just supposed to accept the fact that you poisoned Nami? I'm not deaf," Zoro spat quietly. Sanji stuffed his hands into his pocket, reaching for yet another cigarette and using the campfire to light it. The smoke dwindled up into the air, that all familiar smell filling Zoro's nose.

Sanji snickered, his gaze off to somewhere else.

"I never said that. You're imagining things. I never used a transponder, nor did I poison Nami," Sanji hummed, "are you sure you're not just really, really tired?"

Zoro blinked in disbelief, feeling even more thrown off than before. What was this supposed to mean? Trying to tell him what he saw wasn't true— as if that were to really do anything.

But before he could even as much as open his mouth to argue back, Sanji kicked himself up into the air about a foot or two and swung his leg down, hitting Zoro in the head with the force of a thousand canons.

Then, everything went black. Zoro fell to the ground, his head aching from the impact. He hadn't seen it coming. He hadn't expected it. And now there was blackness all around him, consuming him in ways that felt like it was tearing his heart out his chest. And it hurt alright. So, so fucking much.

—

The Grand line has more than enough islands. Some are hot, some cold, some more spring-like, and so on. This island was all of that. There was 'Spring-bay' with the angry gun wielders, as Robin recalls, the tall grass, and the forest, all more spring-like environments. One could expect the climate to stay like such. Yet, the switch from humid forest to sandy desert surely came as a surprise to her. Not that she minded it a whole lot. Hot environments were something she quite enjoyed.

The sun overhead shimmered brightly, their path turning into more of a sandy hill than one of dirt. Robin felt it to be a tad more difficult to balance in the sand. This wasn't the type of sand she was used to anyway. It felt grainy in a way it was almost like she was stepping on marbles.

The sky remained that same odd color, never faltering to confuse. Robin found it curious. She'd heard of the phenomenon before, but seeing it with her own two eyes? Now that was a whole different thing. If possible, she'd try to find out more about this occurrence. Maybe asking around (if they were to even meet any people in this hot of an environment) would clear some things up.

"Crap, man, it's hot!" Franky yelled, wiping some sweat off his face with the back of his metal hand. Usopp sighed in agreement, holding onto the cyborg for a bit more balance.

"No kidding, it's even hotter than in Alabasta...." Chopper added on. The doctor must be suffering a lot from this heat. The fur that coated him wasn't quite helping with it, Robin guessed.

Ah, Alabasta. What a time that was. Robin remained more than glad to have been able to meet the lot of them back then. It felt different. For the first time since forever, she felt at home. Luffy's kindness really was infectious.

It was funny, really, to see how everyone reacted to her. She showed up on their ship basically unannounced, quite literally claiming her place on the crew. Instead of it becoming a violent, hate-filled cesspool of a battle, Luffy accepted her. It didn't take long for the rest to do the same. Except for Zoro, that is.

He was a curious fellow. Still is. Robin can't always quite read the man. Finds it interesting how he shoves his emotions down the drain the moment something bad happens so he can focus on battle. That's what she thinks, anyway. She could very well be wrong. Maybe he just had a resting bitch-face. Would be funny if he did.

Robin doesn't blame him for it. Doesn't blame any of them for acting the way they do. From what she's gathered thus far, every single one of them went through tough shit. And she understands. Of course she's never been in their shoes, and they've never stood in hers. But she understands.

Robin felt at home now. That's what counted. That everyone has a home to return to. She really hopes that she can be such a home for someone someday, even if it's only one person.

Robin watched quietly as they continued their trail forward. She guessed that they wouldn't find the flower anywhere here— it'd be hard for any plant life to thrive here, even for a flower as supposedly powerful as the Hero's Tower. They'd have to find somewhere to take shelter soon, so that they could come up with a plan— one that'd actually be executed this time.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" Robin says. She looks up at the sun up above, shielding her eyes with her hand as she does so. Quite the sight it was.

"What happened in Alabasta? I have heard bits and pieces of all kinds of previous journeys, but since I am still new to this crew, so I can't quite imagine just what happened." Jinbei replied. Ah, of course, he doesn't know yet. That's at least something to entertain oneself with for the time being. Usopp began to explain to Jinbei of the fights that went down— on how they defeated Crocodile, on how Pell had heroically taken a near fatal blow for everyone's sake, and of course on how he and Chopper had graciously defeated Mister Four and Miss Merry Christmas without as much as a scratch. Robin could laugh at it now, even if it weren’t the most pleasant experience ever for her.

As Usopp and Jinbei talked, laughed, and all the good things that accompany it, Robin glanced back at Zoro.

He looked horrible. Straight up sad. She doesn't know just what happened when she went to sleep, all she knows is that his back got bruised— of course there's the possibility that he might just be really down about it. But this? No, this was a different kind of sad. As if he were lost. Unsure of what to do. Like this was the first time he'd ever read a sad romance novel. Robin knows that she gets emotional at times from literature like that. But that wouldn't be the case here. It'd be odd if it were.

"Oh, my! Look! I think that's a village up ahead!" Brook exclaimed, pointing off into the distance. Indeed, there were buildings in the sand with actual people surrounding them. How lucky they were. Robin wonders why Morly never treaded further than the forest. Maybe he did— for now, she assumed he hadn't, since these people hadn't ever been mentioned, and the ones at Spring Bay were. With his devil fruit, he would've been strong enough to defend himself if necessary.....oh well.

But what even happened to him after the battle? The last person to chase the guy was Zoro......

And Sanji, too. She doesn't get why the blonde thought he had to chase after the two but it's in the past now. What's happened has happened. Best to let it go for now. Maybe she'd ask about it later.

"Oh, that's great! Hopefully, they are willing enough to help us take care of Nami for a bit," Chopper replied. Brook nodded in agreement, crossing his boney arms over one another.

It didn't take too excruciatingly long before the crew finally reached the village. Unlike at Spring Bay, these people weren't trying to kill them on the spot. They seemed more concerned if anything. How peculiar. A small child walked up to her, and Robin crouched down to get to eye-level with the kid.

"Can I help you with anything?" She asks. The kid's lip curled up, and they held up a small flower. Its stem was all shriveled, the leaves barely holding onto the bud. Whatever color there previously was had now disappeared, leaving only a dull, blue hue behind.

"We don't really have a lot of water....and my flower is dying....can you help?"

"Hm.." Robin hummed, taking another good look at the flower. Seems like plant life does grow here, despite the extreme drought. That means the chance that they might still find the Hero's Tower had become a little more likely. How nice.

"I might just have an idea. Franky," Robin spoke, the cyborg now turning his head to her, "do you think you could build a well here?"

Doing good. That's what this was. Even if they were pirates, labeled to be the scum of the earth, she could still do good. Robin had promised herself she would try to— even if the situation were dire. The one reason she had has always remained the same; to spite the World Government. As if they were any better than them. Stupid Celestial Dragons and their even dumber 'status'.

"No problemo! Usopp, you're on Nami holding duty," Franky hummed as he passed the navigator over to him. How Franky carried her with such ease, he didn't know (which is a lie because he does, Franky's a cyborg for heaven's sake). But he sure as hell felt impressed.

Franky got to building sooner rather than later. It was the same as with most other projects really; he starts, a minute at best passes, he finishes. The only other instances of Franky not being a beast as fast as lighting when it came to building or constructing was either when the thing he was working on ended up being more complex than he had anticipated, or when the man worked on his own body. Can't let any rust cling to him after all.

A group formed as they watched Franky race about. Not even a mere minute later, a well stood tall and wide in front of them. Though, there wasn't really any water in it. The cyborg hovered over the entrance, rolled back his shoulder, and yelled out 'STRONG RIGHT! ', his right-hand detaching from his arm and plummeting right into the well. It hit the bottom, and water gushed out the hole that he'd created. It splashed upward, creating a rain-like effect. The little kid laughed and cheered, clinging onto Franky's leg as if to hug him. The cyborg picked them up and playfully tossed them up into the air a couple times before putting them down.

"Oh, thank you so much! You have no idea how much you've helped us with this...!" An older man exclaimed, hugging the child. That must be the father of the kid. Robin smiled sweetly— this really did feel like Alabasta.

"It's nothing', I'm glad we could help!" Franky said in response as he retrieved Nami back from Usopp.

Oh, poor soul. The hot environment really wasn't doing her any good. She was sweating like a dog. Robin can't begin to imagine just what she must be feeling right now.

"Actually, do you think you might be able to help us too?" Chopper questioned. "Our friend is really sick, and we're trying to find this flower to try and cure her. Have you heard of the Hero's Tower?"

"I...am unsure. But you're more than welcome to take a look through our library," the man said, "as a thank you for providing us with usable water, you can stay for a while too, if that suits your interests." Chopper looked over at Luffy, who quickly nodded. The man smiled, waving his hand as a sign to follow him. He led them to an inn, where he discussed something with the lady at the front desk. She ended up handing him a couple of keys, which the man distributed to the lot. Odd, having an inn in a place like this, but convenient, nonetheless. Seems like they did have to share rooms— though not that Robin minded it a whole lot.

The inn was decorated with all sorts of ornaments, though not with the kind of typical that Robin had ever seen. Sure, some people do keep animal heads and hides for a collection, she recalls Crocodile doing the same at some point. It was silly, really, seeing him get a little giddy about some animal's skin. Robin pretended to never notice, but she definitely did. That aside— the walls were covered with hides, no wood being able to peek through the heavy layers of skin. The color was an odd sort of green, but what can one really say? This is still the Grand line after all. There's more than enough animals to go around for everyone. Even ones with green hide. The man pinched the bridge of his nose, a quiet laugh escaping him.

"Oh, how rude of me, I forgot to introduce myself. I am the mayor of this town, Yasopp, and this little pumpkin here is my daughter, Dakota."

Ouch. Robin glanced over at Usopp— he seemed confused. Hurt, in a way. But this wasn't his father, he knew that much. He looked nothing like Usopp. No long nose, no black hair, and gosh, was the man tiny. His mother wasn't all that tall either, so this couldn't be the same man. Still, it threw him off. That would be something to get used to.

"It's nice to meet you," Luffy answered with that trademark smile of his. Yasopp grinned, putting Dakota back on her own two feet.

"Likewise. Please, if there's anything I could assist any of you with, let me know."

"Well," Robin hums, might as well take the offer now, "I'd like to take a look around that library you mentioned, if that's alright."

"Oh, of course! My, please follow me then," Yasopp cheered. Chopper decided to hop along with Robin, hoping to find some new information as well.

The library stood its ground alright. The building was tall, long, and my goodness, by the looks of it, it was quite well-kept. The doors creaked upon entry, revealing shelf after shelf after shelf filled to the brim with books on all kinds of subjects. Chopper yelped a squeaky 'thank you', heading off to do his own thing. Robin took her time to look around, trying to spot all kinds of little things— curves in the architecture, the brand of the wood that the sculptures hanging from the ceiling were made of, the feel of stone grazing her fingers as she ran her hand over the wall. It made her feel quite at home.

-

Home.

She misses her mom more than she'd ever really like to admit.

"This is the library," Yasopp told her, "take your time to look around and explore."

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

With that, Robin ventured further. She strolled past a couple of shelves (which were luckily labeled) when something caught her eye. The book in question had a bright purple cover, its title reading 'Heartbeat: island history'. Convenient title if Robin had anything to say about it.

She opened the book up to the first page, which very boldly stated that this information was disclosed. So, most likely not meant for her eyes. That didn't stop her from at least flipping through it.

The information in it ended up being quite vague. Barely any specifications on anything, no proper explanations, just documentations of a multitude of phenomena and scribbles of speculations as to why. She understood that these people might not be scholars, so it's not as if it came unexpectedly. It's just sad to see so little details on actual important stuff. That is, until she reached a very particular chapter.

'Heart; vital organ of the island, explained.'

She'd heard something similar to that before. Morly mentioned he planned to sacrifice Brook to the island's heart. Robin thought the man meant something like a lake, or maybe a statue. Not an actual heart.

Did the island have lungs? Blood? Eyes, maybe? Did it know about them? If so, had it become angry with their sudden infiltration? Did it mind? Was there even a conscience to begin with? If the island is alive, had it been a person once? Robin hoped to get an actual answer— doesn't matter if the conclusion she ends up with is fickle. It's better than nothing.

"Oh, my, uh," Yasopp interrupted, snatching the book out of her hands with quite a bit of force, "how did that end up here? Sorry, you weren't supposed to read that. Sometimes, certain educational books get mixed up with works of fiction, and visa versa. Seems like that's the case here, my apologies."

He didn't even let her try to argue with him— walking away from a conversation if it doesn't benefit you definitely gets the job done, she supposes.

He seemed scared. Robin doesn't see why he is. She doesn't intend to cause any harm with whatever information resides in that book. She just hopes to be able to expand her knowledge. But with Yasopp's reaction, there's got to be more to this. Why else would he rush off like that?

Robin followed the man, watching as he rushed into the town hall. Entering would be too dangerous as of right now, so a pair of substitute eyes would have to do. They followed Yasopp, gazing at him from all sorts of angles. Eventually, the man entered an office of sorts. The book was thrown onto the couch in the corner— that's all she needed to know.

Again, a green hide hung from the wall, though this time only one. Facing the desk Yasopp sat at, it was strung on the midst of the wall, thus becoming a very noticeable center of attention. Why only one? What animal did it come from? Maybe it was a mere tradition that Robin was thinking too much about, but one could never truly be sure in a situation like this.

Hm. She'd get to the book later. Sneaking out in the middle of the night usually seems to do the trick for when she needs to get things done. At least, that used to be the case in Alabasta. Seems like old habits really do die hard.

—

New. This was new. And odd. And horrible. And holy fucking shit did it hurt to even think about. Headache inducing pain is what it was, even if Brook has no brain.

Zoro sat there. In tears. Quite a rare sight. Weeping about something. The pain he felt, yet there being no blood in sight. How his blood boiled with rage and anger and sadness and confusion. How he thought, but it wasn't enough. How broken he felt for not being able to think.

A dream, Zoro had called it. It's up to Brook to decide if he wants to believe that. Now, usually, he would. There's not a lot of reasons for Zoro to lie about something that has gotten him as worked up as he was. But there's context to take into account here.

Sanji had asked Zoro if he could kill him. If the cook acts out of line, the swordsman ends his life.

What Sanji had done was indeed odd behavior. Out of line acting. Not following the script and improvising an even worse verse.

And Zoro cried.

"What do you want me to do? I am really sorry this is happening, I really am, but alas, I really am quite uncertain about any next steps," Brook spoke gently, putting his boney hand atop Zoro's shoulder. His breathing hitched, gaze to the ground. Embarrassment laced every part of his being.

"I dunno," Zoro mumbled, "I just want him back. I'm not even sure if any of this is even real anymore."

"I can assure you, this is very much a real conversation. We are here. We are talking. Okay?"

Zoro slowly nodded, his lip pouting a little.

Never in Brook's life would he have expected to be having a conversation as such. Zoro sat out on the balcony of their shared room, smoking, nonetheless, tears clinging to his face as he stared off into the distance. Of course, Brook asked what the matter was, which is when he got the full story.

A 'nightmare' about a transponder snail call which ended in him getting knocked out by the cook. Maybe it really had been for the best that Sanji didn't feel like sharing a room with the swordsman.

"I understand that things are tough right now. I am not in your shoes, but I can imagine how you must be feeling."

"No, you can't," Zoro mumbled. The cigarette in his mouth had burnt up a little while ago, yet the swordsman hadn't dropped the filter from his mouth yet. Maybe he wanted to remember the taste. Maybe the smell. Or maybe he just felt like it. It remains a mystery to Brook where he even got the thing from in the first place.

"Or maybe I can't, that's fine too," Brook replied, "but this isn't going to fix anything. Sulking all by yourself hasn't ever done anything for anyone, and trust me, I would know." Zoro remained quiet on that remark.

"I'm just trying to help you. Maybe it'd be an idea to tell the others? I am not going to do it for you though."

"No. No, I- I can't. What if I really did just dream it, y'know? This has to be temporary, so I wanne wait it out. Just a bit longer," Zoro replied. Brook shook his head, leaning against the steel bars of the balcony, gazing over the desert that laid ahead of them. He wonders what other creatures or people they might encounter.

"If that is what you want, then I won't stop you. I'm only advising you to at least consider it."

Jeez. What a mess this was. Brook wonders just how guilty Zoro feels. Specifically guilt because damnit, Brook knows how he feels. Spending all that time at sea alone has left him with more than enough opportunities to reminisce about the things he could've done to prevent all of what had happened. Time after time, he envisioned himself doing or having done something so that his crew would all still be alive and able to sing their songs again. So that they could be happy. So he could spend more time with Laboon. He knows that will come eventually, it remained a matter of time is all. But the rest? He couldn't change that anymore. And at times, Brook really does hate himself for not being able to do anything for them now. Can't bring back the dead after all, even if he is a skeleton.

"I did. I'm just not going to. Not right now."

Zoro replied, the filter falling from his mouth and into the sand below them. He huffed, running his hand through his face as he groaned in frustration.

"I need booze," Zoro eventually mumbled after a shared moment of silence. Ah, well, Brook could agree with that statement. If he remembers correctly, there should be a bottle of something in the room. In other inn's that was the case anyway, hopefully it'll be the same in this one.

Brook then spotted something strange in the distance. Gently, he tapped at Zoro's shoulder, urging him to take a look as well. A slender figure dashing across the sand in the middle of the night is of course the norm, so there's totally nothing suspicious about that. Now, why would someone do that? Because they want something? Because there's something important they need to do? There's only one way to find out.

Brook jumped down the balcony, into the sand. Zoro didn't bother to follow, only looking at Brook from where he had sat himself down. He'd come back eventually, Zoro didn't doubt that, so he had no reason for him to chase after the skeleton. Brook set course for the strange figure, swiftly bouncing across the dunes. The sand crunched under the man's feet, although not loud enough for anyone to hear. He was quite literally a lightweight, after all. Being all bones did come in handy at times.

The strange figure entered what Brook assumed to be the town hall. Maybe it was the mayor guy that so nicely offered them a place to stay? He hadn't been paying a lot of attention to the man, mostly because he simply did not interest him a whole lot. Brook was grateful, no doubt, but still.

Brook squinted with his nonexistent eyebrows, hoping to get a better look at the person who so hastily rushed inside of the building. Brook did have to admit— it looked pretty from both the inside and the outside. The woodwork and architecture created an astonishing view, one that Brook finds to be quite pleasing to the eye. Not that he has any eyes though.

Up the stairs, through a long hallway, all to end up in an office with a single green hide on the wall. When he peeked through the slightly open door, that's when Brook managed to finally get a better look at the oh-so mysterious figure.

"Robin? My, I hadn't expected to see you here," Brook chuckled. Robin turned to face the skeleton, a small 'oh' falling from her lips, a quiet laugh following suit. The skeleton sat next to her, gazing over her shoulder to see just what she was doing.

In her hands sat a book, one that Brook guessed Robin had seen somewhere before— I mean, why else would she even be here? The top paragraph stated something about a heart, and it didn't take long for Brook to make the connection to what this was referring to.

"I know," she murmured, "it's strange. What would Nika have to do with this island? The main thing I don't understand is why they keep referring to this island as his heart. There is quite literally no evidence that something like that is even possible. But I could be wrong of course. Must be...it just doesn't click."

"I can imagine how frustrated you must feel. It's definitely not typical. May I?" Brook asked. Robin handed the book over to the skeleton, taking the time to think about it all a little more. Brook scanned over the page— it looked more like a documentation rather than an actual story.

'HEART; occurrences > doc. 721'. That's what was written at the top of the page, a different number accompanying the many different pages throughout the chapter it seemed.

'721: Irregular earthquakes. Floods. Droughts. Thought to be influenced by the Hollow's path. Winter temperatures regularly burn through skin. More aggressive than last time. Tension between nations is rising, too.'

'727: It's happening it's happening it's happening I should've left the moment I could he's awakening again all the disasters have been foreshadowing Nika's return I don't want to die here the great war is starting it has to be oh god please spare me'

'763: He's dead.'

Well! How straight-to-the-point that was.

Nika was here. Something about a great war that Brook doesn't understand which probably happened way before his time. And Nika had died. What a timeline.

Brook flips back to a previous page— yet there's barely any difference. The only major contrast between the entries was how calm the author seemed before. Pages before said entries were filled with lists of phenomena, but again nothing major that wasn't already mentioned.

Nika had fucking died here. That felt terrifying to think about. Especially with Luffy having become Gear Five.

Would he die too? Was it destined to pass? Crap, this wasn't good this wasn't good! They must be able to do something right? So that Luffy doesn't die because he can't he can't die that's the last thing Brook wants happening and it won't happen because Brook won't allow it damnit.

Right. The skeleton took a breath, anxiousness coursing through his veins. Strange how he could still feel things like that despite lacking the vitals to be able to do so.

"That's not a fun read. Not a fun read at all," Brook whispered. Robin nodded in agreement, silently retrieving the book back from the skeleton.

The door abruptly swung itself open, a truly angry and quite unhappy Yasopp standing tall (although he really wasn't) and wide in the doorframe. Scared out of his mind, he seems. Afraid in ways that Brook thought would give the man a heart attack.

"Out. Now."

Chapter Text

Hot. So fucking hot. Everything was burning. Like his blood had been set aflame.

So damn quiet. Deafening silence overtaking every inch of his being.

Icy cold. Goosebumps ran down his body. Made him want to rip the skin off his arm.

And he was confused. One minute he's fighting a bunch of marines who somehow thought they had enough strength to take him down— stupid move, in Nika's humble opinion— and the next, he's chained up somewhere in a cell deep down in the ocean. He doesn't remember how he got here. His head hurts though. Guess the marines didn't handle him with much care. Nika expected as much.

Tired. God was he tired. His muscles ached with a soreness that Nika thought could kill him if he dared to move any more. His arms were held down by heavy shackles, presumably sea-stone.

Dark. The only light source available came from near the bars of his cell, yet it didn't even reach his feet, leaving him shelled in the shadows of the faint glow.

Alone.

It wasn't as if Nika had people to care about. Not anyone whom he could call real family anyway. It never bothered him either.

Right now, though? Fuck did he yearn for someone to talk to. To see the face of another person and know that this wasn't how he was going to die.

Stupid marines. They're all on the wrong side of history, that's what.

A person with a cloak that reached the floor and a crown about the size of Nika's torso entered the hallway. Their shadow bounced off the wall in a way that made it clear as day that they were heading for him. He shifted in his restraints, sitting somewhat more upright.

Nika guessed that he would be lectured. That this person was of 'high ranking status' and they wanted to scold him for his 'atrocious' actions, when all he was doing was—

Something, anyway. Nika doesn't recall what he'd done. Not completely, because he sure as hell knows how the fight started. They attacked him first. They provoked him. The marines caused this themselves. Who even goes around blowing up innocent people's houses? How gross.

How the fight ended, Nika doesn't know. But if he ended up here, he doesn't think he wants to know either.

Undeserved. Unfair. Enraging.

Cowards. All of them.

"It's a pleasure meeting you," the person said. Nika could barely see them with the light coming from behind, though it's not as if he really wanted to look at them.

"Yeah." Nika spat. He didn't feel like entertaining their little game, or whatever this even was.

"You lost. Did you really think you could go up against the World Government? Truly, what were you thinking?"

He didn't do that. Filty fucking lair.

"I never did that," Nika replied. The figure laughed— mocking him. Laughing because they were able to. Laughing because Nika didn't.

"My, but you did. All the twenty nations fought back against that disgusting little power of yours. Such crudeness cannot be left unpunished, if you were to ask me."

Nika never did any of that. He doesn't recall doing anything even remotely similar to it. Nika blinks. And he blinks again. And he shakes his head, unable to remember.

He went to sleep a long time ago. After everything was done, after the people didn't need him anymore, Nika had made the decision to sleep. To rest. To finally take time for himself instead of fighting monsters— earthly beginnings that didn't want to sink.

And it was nice.

Then it wasn't anymore. Something was about to happen, something bad. Nika doesn't know just what, but it'd destroy everyone and everything. He could feel it in his bones. So, he arose from his slumber.

And then people got mad at him. They threw rocks and stones because why didn't he show up any earlier? Why did he leave the people to fend for themselves?

Reason one out of many why Nika doesn't think he needs a 'family'. All it causes is drama and more drama and even more drama on top of it.

Nika hates drama.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he murmured under his breath. The cloaked one sighed, shaking their head in disappointment, yet no response being given. Nika frowned, making a weak attempt at get up but failing miserably at it. His face hit the ground with a thud. Crap. Just what happened?

"Don't bother. You will be executed soon. Best to rest before that. Of the twenty nations you attacked, only three were left with most of their population intact."

Lair lair lair lair they were lying he never did that he never would even think about doing something as vile as that he was going to kill them with his own two hands if they repeated himself what a fucking joke.

"You— you can't do that! I never did that! I would remember if I had!"

The figure didn't respond, turning their back to Nika and marching off. Nika shouted and yelled with whatever power he had, flailing his arms in a desperate attempt to get an answer.

Lair.

Nika was stuck in a cell who-knows where, screaming, and boy was he angry. Angry at the cloaked individual, whoever they might be, angry at the world, angry at himself.

Especially himself.

He wouldn't have done something like that, right? Killing off so many people, oh, the thought alone laid heavy on his mind. Like venom on his tongue.

Let's say he had. Let's assume Nika really did go rogue and kill a bazillion people. It's logical to think he'd be killed for it. Who knows what would happen if they let him roam around freely. In a way, he understood why this was happening. But it shouldn't have. Nika isn't kind in the sense of the word. He just does good. Not— not this.

Not fucking this.

—

As quickly as the lot of them had arrived, they were forced to leave. At least Nami got a good night's sleep, Zoro thought. Quite the contrast to how he'd managed to spend the night. Zoro still couldn't shake the embarrassment he felt from that conversation with Brook. Finds himself weak for crying like that.

He shouldn't cry. Doesn't deserve to cry. It's stupid. And dumb. And all kinds of words that Zoro doesn't know of.

A dream. A hell of a fucking dream that he wishes wouldn't have happened. Zoro doesn't trust it. Doesn't understand it. Doesn't understand anything that's going on, really.

He wishes he could train. Train until he collapses and then a little more. Take his mind off everything. God, his head ached.

No goodbyes were exchanged between the people here and them. The last thing that major guy had said to them was to 'please stay out of the vicinity of their village for safety purposes', whatever that might mean. As long as they can keep going, he supposes.

Zoro doesn't know what to do anymore. He wants to try, he wants to scream, he wants to act on what he knows— but the thought was a weight too heavy for him to be able to bear.

If only he just told someone— no matter how terrifying that might be— maybe, then he'd be able to bear it. To carry the thought on shared shoulders. It sounds nice. But it feels like Zoro might crumble if he doesn't carry the weight on his own. He's strong. He's supposed to be able to carry it. All on his own because then no one else would have to worry to the same extent he does.

Fuck was he tired.

Robin had explained the situation to the best of her abilities. Guess that she ended up being the mysterious figure that Brook chased after. Makes sense, really. She was quite the curious persona after all.

Something about Nika having passed here. That's the gist of the story. Luffy didn't seem to mind— he wasn't Nika, so he doesn't see the need to worry. And Zoro trusted Luffy's gut. It stands correctly, pointing them in the right direction most of the time, and over time he's grown to blindly follow it, although with some caution weaved into it all.

It wasn't fair. If he trusted Luffy, then why didn't following him fix anything?

Dumb fucking question really. Zoro seemed to be asking a lot of dumb questions recently. Action fucking reaction. If he acted, if he did something, then things would change. But he hadn't. That's what's up.

"And now that we're talking about it anyway, what happened to Morly? He first mentioned the island's heart, so if we manage to track him down, maybe he can tell us more about it. The book we read wasn't clear on it in the slightest."

Well. Zoro stayed quiet, thumbing at Wado's hilt and chewing on the inside of his cheek. He'd almost forgotten about the man.

"Don't worry about it, Robin dearest," Sanji hummed in a sing-song tone of voice, "we shouldn't focus on him. He wouldn't have helped us. I tried to get something out of him, but the guy was stubborn as a pig."

He was dead. Dead fucking dead, at the very least have the balls to say you killed the man— Zoro sighed. Getting angry wasn't going to help with anything, although it felt like a very decent fucking option right about now. Just pummel his face into the ground and have it over with. It remained so double, wanting to cherish Sanji and squeeze the life out of him all the same.

"I still think we should at least try," Robin suggested.

"Well I don't think we should."

Like venom, the words fell off Sanji's tongue, and as if venom had been pumped into it, Zoro's heart ached.

Damnit. That couldn't have been a fucking dream.

"We're here for the flower, aren’t we? Let's focus on that first, my dear, the pig can come later."

"Yo! Bro, language!" Franky spoke loudly. Nami groaned, covering her ears, and curling her legs up to her chest. Franky's hands, although metal and maybe a bit uncomfortable, were large enough for Nami to at least have some space to herself, somehow. Sanji rolled his eyes, lighting his first cigarette of the day.

"Come now, let's just continue on. There's no point in arguing about something that lays in the past."

Jinbei didn't like seeing any of them argue, that much was clear from the start. Made him feel uneasy in a way.

"Right," Sanji murmured.

Zoro wanted to explode on the spot. Maybe putting the blonde in a box and making sure he doesn't go anywhere would be a good fucking idea after all. Keep him from messing things up and keep him from doing things that Zoro was more than sure would set them all back.

After a more than uncomfortable silence, Luffy grabbed ahold of Sanji's arms and held them tight. No doubt that he'd bruise. Sanji's visible eye went wide, taking a step back— yet Luffy didn't let go, the cigarette nearly falling to the ground.

"I don't know what's going on but you're not acting like yourself. This island isn't fun. The moment we find that flower we're leaving and never coming back here. I don't want you disappearing again."

And that, too. Yet another reason to opt for the box. Sanji looked off to the side, a more familiar look on his face. Zoro recognizes it the instant Sanji frowns— he's tense. Awkward. Afraid.

Zoro just doesn't know what he fears.

"I won't," Sanji says, his voice barely a whisper. Luffy lets go of the man, smiling once more as he starts to march off in the wrong direction.

—

Nika wants to laugh. Laugh at how ignorant he'd been, at how stupid all of this was, but he couldn't. It was too late now. He would have to save his smiles for another occasion.

Seems like the cell he had found himself in wasn't one underwater, but rather inside of a ship. The floor was cold, and with what he wore, it felt like he was freezing to death, yet it wasn't cold enough to take his life.

Nika's unsure. Maybe once or twice, he'd heard a marine that passed by talk about an 'execution island' for him. How flattering. He'd get a whole island to himself? No doubt they'd blow the thing up with him chained to the ground somewhere. Then they'd cover it up by spewing out some sob story on how the marines fought with all their might to destroy the 'tyrant' that Nika triumphally presented himself to be. Load of bull crap is what it is.

Tyrant, don't make him laugh. Nika could name at least a couple of other 'people' who were far, far worse than him. Not that he really felt like doing it.

The ship came to a halt after a week or so of sailing. Maybe a month. Maybe even two. Nika had lost his sense of time a while ago. It's a rough guess, but it's not as if it matters a whole lot.

A pair of guards dragged him out of his cell, walking him up to the deck of the ship. Ah, it has been a while since Nika last saw the sun out. What a bummer the clouds looked so grim today. He squints his eyes, gazing at the marines around him with the nastiest look he can muster.

That same cloaked figure from before stands in the midst of the crowd. Only now is Nika able to get a good look at them. It was a man with too large of a crown and too many jewels around his neck, eyes as red as blood.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" The man says. Nika only frowns, not bothering with a response.

"My name is Imu, if you were curious."

"I really wasn't." Nika rolls his eyes.

"That's fine too. You'll be executed soon enough."

Calling it a shit-show wouldn't be enough to describe just what was going on. Nika felt like biting the man's head off his neck. Imu walked off to the side of the ship, the two guards dragging him along.

The moment he laid his eyes on the island ahead, Nika wasn't so sure about being fine with dying anymore. That island— it's where he'd slept, even if it weren't for long.

That's when he realized.

They weren't going to kill him. They'd let Nika retreat back into the earth and let it take him. A fate far worse than death.

—

Franky wasn't stupid. In fact, he thought himself to be quite a cunning guy when it came down to it. Both his body and his mind resembled that, even if he might seem aloof at times. It's something he just can't, and frankly won't, let go of. What is a person, if not able to experience whimsies and joy? Franky can't imagine himself without it.

Seems like Sanji has been able to, seeing how....whatever this might be went down. He feels bad for the guy, really. And in all honesty? He's kind of pissed, too.

But it's fine. No one was fond of the situation they had found themselves in. No one was jumping up and down in delight and frolicking through any fields right now— their situation was just pure ass. And if that's how the cook decides to blow off some steam, by being a kind-of-but-not-a-total prick, then so be it. Franky himself wasn't in the happiest of moods either. No one was.

Still, it felt wrong. Off-putting. Sending-a-chill-up-his-still-human-spine kind of off-putting. And that doesn't happen a whole lot.

The silence that followed felt like barbed wire being shoved down his throat. Franky wonders how much it'd hurt if he put metal in its place— as a hypothetical of course. He wouldn't actually make himself a metal throat. That would disrupt his respiratory system, and then he'd have to build himself new lungs, which would mess with his blood flow, which meant he'd have to give himself a different power source, which meant yet another add-on to his already amazing body but also a tiresome one, which would technically leave him without the need to sleep, but his brain would still need rest so—

Agh, never mind it. The idea alone was already too much work. Franky gazed down at Nami, furrowing his brows. Maybe she'd benefit from it, a first metallic addition. It hurt to see her like this. What if they can't find the damn flower in time? What if Nami gets ill in such a way that she might actually die before a cure is made? He didn't want to think about it, but in a way, it might just be smart to.

On trips like these, it's usually Franky's job to provide food. He has the storage room for it, quite literally speaking. It's always something simple, like a bar with all kinds of nutrients that will surely keep everyone energized. It's something he proudly presented to both Chopper and Sanji at the same time to get it 'approved' for further missions. After Thriller Bark, the idea came to him in a dream, one where people were dying of starvation. But the end result definitely benefited everyone. Most of the time, everyone carries a couple of them with them, just in case something happens. So, since it's been a while, Franky distributed them out to everyone once more with a tiny hand that came from his chest. How nice, having an extra helping hand.

One for Nami (since, of course she'd come first), then three for Robin, three for Usopp, for Chopper, Jinbei, Brook, Luffy (which he really didn't like as it didn't fill him up a lot but it'd have to do), Sanji, and of course Zoro. Franky himself could take one whenever he likes.

Everyone's reactions were the same as always. A smile and a 'thank you', just as normal.

Sanji wasn't fucking normal.

Just a hum? That's it? Really? He couldn't be this bumped out about the situation now could he? That's not the man Franky knows. If Sanji's worried then he runs around in a panic first and bites his nails then regrets it and bites at his cigarette instead and then he asks if he can do anything and then he either goes cook something or he helps with whatever he can and that's absolutely not what's happening here.

Something was off about the cook. Franky wonders who else has noticed it by now. Makes him more pissed, in a way. Really fucking pissed.

Franky has little time to think about how fired up it really got him— not when something arose from the sand and stood taller than the trees from before. It had scales and weird hairy legs that gave Franky the ick. Sure, his legs are hairy too, but he's no giant centipede.

"Oh my." Brook spoke, drawing his sword. The centipede hisses, its tail (or butt? Franky doesn't understand bugs a whole lot, might have to ask Usopp about it later) shaking from left to right, creating a humongous cloud of sand all around them. Franky holds Nami closer to his chest, trying to make sure she doesn't inhale anything that could potentially hurt her.

"I can't see anything! Is everyone okay?!" Chopper asks in a panic. Franky knows he's fine, and hopes the same goes for Nami— Really, were they ever going to not have to fight someone or something? Give it a break!

From what Franky can hear, it seems like Jinbei had thrown Brook up into the air to do something. The skeleton yells out his attack whilst icy dust trails behind him, his blade coated in the same stuff. Franky sometimes forgets that Brook can use ice to his advantage. Might have to ask the man to make him ice cubes at some point, just to see if he can.

Not long after that, the centipede falls to the ground, its head severed off its body. In comparison to the other bugs they'd seen before, this one wasn't as strong as Franky had thought it'd be. It's so tall! Seeing it fall down this fast came as a surprise, though definitely not an unpleasant one.

"Well, that was easy!" Jinbei laughed, dusting his hands off on his coat. Brook landed back in the sand with ease, sheathing his blade as the man smiled, or at least Franky thought he did. The dust really didn't seem like it was settling. How annoying.

—

At least no one was harmed. At least the people on this island were still alive. At least he hadn't— although Nika still refuses to believe it— hurt them. The lesser casualties the better.

The ship came to a full-stop near a cliff. The ground was covered in thick layers of snow, it even came up to Nika's knees. He clearly remembers how much fun it was to just lay there and let the snow cover him a little the first time he'd come here. He had let go of his worries, refusing to trouble himself with those thoughts for a while. It was nice.

The guards dragged him through the snow, not slowing down despite how Nika almost tripped over his own feet. Imu walked up ahead to who-knows where. At least provide him with some warmer clothes instead of these flimsy rags, geez.

Nika smiled. This was it. His end. Never would he have thought to meet it like this, but in a way, he'd expected it all the same. It's not as if what he did got appreciated a whole lot by the government. But what can he say? Nika didn't support its beliefs either.

"Before you drag me down into the earth to rot," Nika spits angrily, "can I at least know what happened? I feel like you owe me that much."

The guards toss Nika to the ground, forcing him to kneel in front of Imu. The snow stabbed at his skin— Nika thinks he might drown in it if he's pushed down to the ground any further. He wouldn't even mind it if it pissed Imu off.

"Well, it's not like you'll be able to really tell the tale to anyone else. I might as well."

That was......easier than expected. Nika had already gotten more than ready to argue for at least a little while to get the answer he wanted, but it seems like that's not necessary. Imu turned to face Nika, those same red eyes staring right into his soul. Nika didn't like them in the slightest.

"You're aware of what buster calls are, no? I'll refresh your memory on them."

Nika rolls his eyes. Yada yada yada, Nika knows what they use them for. He's not dense. So the stupid cover story Imu told him about how buster calls are only used in the direst of situation was almost laughable. Almost, purely because of how stupid the man sounds as he's talking.

Filthy lair.

"Get to the point," Nika snapped. Imu smiled softly, gripping at the man's face, forcing him to look Imu right in the eyes. Red, so fucking red that Nika thought he might just vomit.

"You did nothing. Absolutely nothing. No blood on your hands here," Imu hummed, as if it were the most normal ever thing in the world. Nika's eyes went wide— confusion wasn't the right word to use here. He felt bewildered. Ashamed. Betrayed, too.

"You— you've got to be kidding me... you bastard!" Nika yelled, screamed, his lungs burning inside of him with nothing but rage.

"It was the only way to get done what clearly needed to be done. These other 'people' don't know how to rule. I was merely...helping, yes."

"By killing innocent people— nations full no less— with buster calls? The nerve of you to blame me for your actions! Oh, the moment I'm able to get my hands onto you, you're a dead man!"

"All bark, no bite, I know that little game too, you know."

Imu continued to walk, now nearing a cave, as the guards scooped Nika back up from the snow. He flailed his arms as much as he could, desperate for— something. Just something. Anything, no matter if it's good or bad.

"I'm going to end you!" Nika shouts, louder than anyone would've liked him to. The guards dropped him back onto the ground, though this time not into the snow. The cave surrounding him felt like a cage with nothing but empty space inside of it.

It scared him. Fuck did it terrify him. He was helpless. At the mercy of one singular man. A man that Nika would kill if he could. He could feel his knees sink into the dirt, snapping him out of this almost hypnotic state of anger he'd found himself in. No, not yet, not when he could still do something! Not when he could still spread the truth!

Nika didn't want to cry. That meant showing weakness. That meant showing surrender. That's the last thing he wanted to show. Nika would grit his teeth, show all the anger he possessed, show the pure hatred that he felt— anything but weakness.

"I mean, come on," Imu hummed, "how did you expect twenty nations with different beliefs to work together? Exactly. They wouldn't. And in a way, I did something good. I prevented a war by exterminating the enemy before they even got the chance to come up with a plan."

"I hope someone kills you. If not me, someone else who knows the truth. Someone else who knows what side to pick. Trust me when I tell you, I will get my revenge, no matter how long it takes!" Both a promise and a threat. Nika let his head drop down, feeling his body become heavy as a rock. The guards weren't able to hold him up anymore, as if Nika's personal gravity increased tenfold, if that's even a thing. His body dropped to the ground and sank, slowly, as if he laid in water. The last thing Nika witnessed before sinking fully was a clouded image of the sun shining down on him. On the earth, the green grass, the bluest of waters. He hoped missing it all wouldn't hurt too much as all but his clothes retreated back into the earth.

A bright light beamed out of where Nika had laid before, emitting a painfully bright glow. Imu squinted his eyes and stepped back, but despite that, it still burned. The light burned him— and it hurt somehow.

At least the brat was gone now. What a pain.

—

Nami hadn't been paying a lot of attention to anything. She didn't have the energy to. Things were blurry, flashing before her eyes as if it were a mere mirage of a reality. She doesn't know what's real or not anymore at this point. So it's quite odd how she felt relatively fine all of a sudden. She tugs as Franky's shirt, and his first reaction is to shield her from the sand even more.

"You doin' okay? Need anything?" Franky asks.

"No, I— I don't know what's going on, but I feel fine," she responds. Nami leaps out of Franky's arms and stretches. Her legs feel stiff from all that sitting. No surprise really, but it's nice to be able to just stand for a moment. Nami hasn't ever thought she might miss the feeling of standing, but here we are.

"Whoah! That's super! But uh, how come, exactly?" Franky raises an eyebrow.

"I have no idea," Nami mumbles quietly. She feels okay. She can walk. Her head isn't pounding like a bitch anymore. Was she cured?

"Nami! Please don't stand just yet, that's dangerous! You could overexert yourself!" Chopper yelped. He hopped towards her and tried to guide her back to Franky, but all Nami did was chuckle.

"Chopper, I feel fine. I don't know how but I just do, somehow."

One can imagine how hard Chopper's mouth hit the floor. He stumbled over his own words, until a noticeably clear answer to what he wanted to say finally came to mind.

"What?! You're not joking, are you?!"

"No, I'm being serious. Maybe we should head over to somewhere else where you can at least see me properly. All this dust isn't helping," Nami calmly responded. Chopper agreed, and in a hurry, he dragged her away from the sand and the centipede.

Which is when things went to shit because Nami almost fainted. Great. She dropped to the ground, the sand hot to her face, and her breathing staggered again, making it painful to even as much as talk let alone breathe. She squinted her eyes as Jinbei helped her up again and handed her over to Franky once more.

"You don't have to act strong for us Nami, you're already being strong by trying as hard as you are right now!" Chopper reassured her, but that's not what she wanted to hear. Nami knew damn well what she felt just now, and that was that she didn't feel as miserable as she has. She really did feel fine! Nami shook her head, trying to get up again but her own body betrayed her. She felt as if she might just puke at any moment now, but instead she coughed— blood stained her hand, her eyes widening.

Was she going to die?

She's been through so much. All of them have been. She couldn't die now. Not here on a shitty island as such from a shitty illness that tried to take her shitty life all the whilst everyone stared at her. She knows it's not out of disgust. But a girl does think.

She barely remembers what happened next. Distant shouting— that, she did recognize. Someone was shouting at someone out of anger. Or maybe out of concern. Maybe fury. Hell if she knew.

Someone carried her somewhere. Someone touched her forehead. Someone said something. But the details slipped her mind.

She recognized the coldness of Franky's hands. How cool they felt in the hot weather. How she felt herself burning from the inside out. How her mind gently numbed her senses.

"Look at me, Nami, please," Chopper pleaded. Nami turned her head with some effort, blinking slowly as her pupils tracked the movement of the doctor's hooves. Left, right, left, up, down— it wasn't hard to follow.

"I'm sorry Nami I really am we shouldn't have taken you with us I thought it was a good idea but it's just hurting you and I'm not able to do anything and—"

"Chopper, breathe," Robin tried. She placed her hand atop of the doctor's shoulder, attempting to keep him at least somewhat grounded. He nodded, looking up at her with grateful eyes.

Whatever yelling occurred in the background had faded out. The quietness left room for her to think. And to cough. And to question her every life choice because what else could she really do? All the same, Franky retreated a little, leaving room for Chopper to unpack his bag and at least do something.

And there it fucking was again. That buzzed feeling in her chest and blam! Out of nowhere she felt just peachy. Nami raised her hand in a hurry and jumped right back onto her own two feet, not feeling faint in the slightest. Odd.

"Nami! Don't—”

"Listen to me! I feel fine! I don't know why I didn't just a second ago, but I feel genuinely fine!" Nami blurted out, looking around in a panic. Why? Just why? Did it have to do with the ground? With the sand that arose in a cloud just now? The fucking centipede?

Oh. It really was the damn worm. Something about it emitted an odd, blue-ish glow that pointed itself directly at her. The light touched her feet, and in a way, Nami felt compelled to walk towards it, despite how gross she thinks insects might be.

"It's the centipede," Nami mumbled under her breath, "I don't know why or how, but it is! Look, the light, it's—” Nami rushed towards it, hesitating a little before eventually touching one of its antennae and shining the light upwards, though still downwards enough so it'd reach her. The centipede didn't move a muscle, simply letting Nami move it around and about.

It made sense, and it didn't all the same. Why was this happening? Why did she feel fine? Why did she not feel like her insides were ripping themselves apart anymore? Maybe it was best that she didn't know, but still! The one thing that made sense was that the closer to the centipede she came, the less she felt like dogshit. Chopper came running after her, gently tugging at the bug's legs and trying to analyze whatever the centipede was doing.

It was dead. It had no life anymore. So why was it giving Nami strength?

"Be careful bro!" Franky shouted as he followed behind the navigator. "You think if we take a piece of it with us, you'll be able to walk for a while? I can build something for ya if you don't feel like holdin' onto it."

"If you don't mind, then yes, I'd like that," Nami responded. Not even a minute later, Franky had already built something for her to hold onto so that the insect's leg could still illuminate her figure. Her mind felt clearer. Her thoughts felt clearer. Despite none of this making any sense to her, at least she wasn't in excruciating pain anymore.

"Nami! Does this mean you feel better?" Luffy asked. He felt scared for her. For her health, for her body, for her everything. But this did make him feel more confident in her recovery. If whatever this creature was really managed to heal her, even if it might be temporarily, then he was more than sure that she'd be okay soon enough. They'd just have to hold on for a little longer. They'd have to. Luffy wouldn't let anything else happen.

"Sort of," she answered back, although with a bit of doubt in her voice, "although I'm not sure why, it's— it makes me feel fine as long as I'm walking under its light."

"Awesome! Let's carry on then!" Easy for Luffy to say. Nami put the selfie-stick-esque contraption Franky had built for her on her shoulder, looking up at the leg. Ugh, as much as she disliked bugs, and as much as she hated how weird it looked, maybe this one wasn't all that bad.

Maybe she'd be all right after all.

—

The sensation of the cold ground that surrounded every inch of his being, it's something he'd gotten used to at this point. Nika has no clue how long it has been. Has he died? Was this a mere image of a conscience he thought he had? It didn't matter. He was stuck. Couldn't move an inch. If he tried then his limbs ached with the strength of a thousand suns, that's what he did know.

He could see. As odd as it was, he could see. There was this weird grainy texture emitted by bright white light that somehow kept him entertained enough. It didn't really do anything. It just kind of sat there in front of his eyes. It was better than nothing, Nika supposes. His guess was that this must be what happens when one starts to fade. It felt warm. Warm and pleasant and anything but cold. It appeared one day, and it had sat with him ever since. Yet something in his chest felt empty. Like there was something missing. Maybe his heart had faded out. Nika hoped he really had been fading, in a way. Then he wouldn't have to deal with anything anymore. God did this take long though. It could have been centuries already, and he wouldn't even know it. He'd never know, now he thought about it. His thoughts would fade out and then there would be nothing to show him.

He wanted to cry. To cry and cry and cry and have rivers of tears stream down his face to create an ocean of them, but all he could really do was think. So, he thought about crying. It was at least something.

And he hoped. He hoped that with his body laying here, something good would happen. Something to help other people. Something to continue his legacy.

The blue glow appeared not long after that hope.

—

Zoro couldn't help but yell. He couldn't help himself as he dragged Sanji all the way where they wouldn't be heard. The rest was too occupied by Nami anyway. Zoro wanted to grab him by the throat and choke the ever-living shit out of him. He had lied. He had lied and Zoro should've known it sooner. How utterly stupid had he been to believe that stupid fucking lie of his and his stupid words and his stupid face that was Sanji's but not the one he knows and it's all just. So stupid.

"Hey! Brute, get your filthy hands off me!" Sanji protested, but Zoro didn't listen. He dragged him and dragged him until there was enough distance between the crew and the two of them. Zoro didn't have it in him to drag all of them into this mess.

"Finally, what is wrong with y-" Sanji tried, getting very violently interrupted by a punch to the face. Ouch. Sanji stepped back and wiped at his face with the back of his sleeve, grinning a smile that Zoro didn't want to believe was there. Oh boy did he feel angry.

"Wrong with me? What's wrong with you?! You're not acting like the damn person I— that I—..."That I fell in love with. The words sat at the tip of his tongue, yet they just wouldn't fall. Zoro grits his teeth, his grip around Wado's hilt tightening.

"That you what? Hm?" Oh, now he was just taunting him.

Zoro breathed in and out for a moment. Trying to collect his thoughts. Trying to come up with a plan. Trying to think but not being able to revert to anything else but that damn promise they made.

To destroy. To kill. That was their promise.

He should just get on with it, he supposes.

Zoro unsheathed Wado and held it to his side. Sanji's grin only widened.

"Oh, you're serious. All right then," Sanji hums. He simply stands there. Waiting. And Zoro doesn't know if he should be happy about that or not.

Without wasting any time, Zoro stomps over to the blonde, presses the sharp end of Wado to his neck and eyes Sanji with the dirtiest look he can muster.

And he stands there. His grip is weak. His hands tremble. Zoro's heart is beating as fast as he's ever felt it beat.

Sanji's visible eye was the same color it has always been. That pretty blue Zoro is used to. That pretty face of his. It's so familiar it hurts.

He has to do this alone. He can't shove that burden onto anyone else's shoulder. He's already told Brook too much. He's already been showing too much. He's been too much. How pathetic he felt.

"I was having fun you know," Sanji eventually hums, seemingly unbothered by the blade at his neck, "you really going to kill me or are you all bark no bite?" He spits, taking a last drag from his cigarette. He drops it to the ground and stomps it gently enough, the smoke dwindling upwards. The smell is too familiar. The way he moves around is too familiar, too. But this wasn't his Sanji.

He couldn't fucking do it. Zoro lowers Wado, the metal grazing the sand softly. He doesn't want to feel. He doesn't want to cry. He doesn't want to do anything. Doesn't want to force himself to end this man's life. Maybe he would revert back? Eventually? Right? Zoro prayed for it to have been the island's influence.

"Poor bastard. You really can't do it can you?" Sanji taunts, tapping his pointer finger on his chin with a dirty little smirk.

"I am so going to strangle you," Zoro huffs under his breath. If he can't fulfill their promise, the least he can do is confront Sanji. Make him feel how he's been feeling this entire time, although he doubts that Sanji will have any empathy left for him.

"You lied. I don't even know why the fuck I trusted you in the first place. Call it goodwill. Call it stupidity. I thought—” Zoro halts himself, taking a deep enough breath as his vision trails to the sand around them. "I thought I could try to trust you because maybe it's all just some big stupid mistake. Maybe you're just being moody or whatever. Please, Sanji, I just want my lover back."

That's what does it. Sanji's visible eye widens— he stays quiet for a moment. To think, presumably. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt, not really sure what to say. Zoro simply waits for an answer. He wouldn't mind having to stay here for hours on end. He has patience.

"Please don’t say you love me," Sanji mumbles. Doesn't even leave any time for Zoro to answer, swiftly dashing back to the group. And all Zoro does is watch. At the very, very least, he wasn't trying to flee. Sanji was visibly running back to where everyone still was. So what the fuck was that even supposed to mean?

Zoro sighs, rubbing his face with his free hand as he sheathes Wado back into its respective place. If this didn't make things more awkward than they already were then he really doesn't know what will. Maybe yet another murder will do it, sure, that's of course a normal thing people do for one another.

Zoro strides back to the rest, the words ringing in his head. 'Please don't say you love me.' He bets the blonde took that line from a romance novel, you know, those with the pink and purple covers and sappy title.

He misses him. Zoro rarely, if ever, regrets anything. But this, he does. He regrets not having told Sanji how he felt earlier on, he regrets how everyone now will have to deal with him and his stupid attitude— he regrets loving him in the first place. Never thought he'd think something like that but here we are.

That regrets stabs at his heart, twisting it and ripping it out in one go.

He didn't want to lose the blonde, and he regrets how he's starting to. Guess he figured out what Sanji's afraid of.

Chapter Text

This had to be a nightmare of sorts. A terrible dream of which Zoro would rise, hopefully sooner rather than later. The sand crunches under his feet, the noise drowning out his thoughts. He didn't want to think— would rather just let the words roll off his tongue in a fashion he's not used to whilst getting the damn point across. He's noticed by now that thinking too much about what was going on would only result in tears that Zoro didn't feel like crying. But alas. As he regroups, somehow without getting lost, Zoro strays away from Sanji as much as he can. The bastard doesn't even have that same upset expression on his face that Zoro knows he wore just mere minutes ago.

It's almost laughably stupid, how Zoro refuses to just— admit that this really is not the Sanji he knew him to be. His heart feels heavy in his chest, stomach twisting into knots. The longer he waits, the worse the eventual fall that he knows will come, will end up being. Zoro's train of thought gets rudely interrupted by the light from the construction on Nami's shoulder, or whatever it really was. Its glow had turned towards him, illuminating the crevices of Zoro's face. His eye seemed avoid of any life, as if only a soul existed behind it, and nothing more. Zoro squints, annoyance lacing his face, though he refrains from mentioning it.

"Is it supposed to be doing that?" Usopp questions, now catching Nami's attention. She halts her pace, gaze fixated on the glow— it studies all of them, it seems, hoping from Zoro, to Chopper, to Jimbei, and so on and so forth. Nami can still stand despite the light not being aimed directly at her, which was absolutely great despite how confused she felt at the moment. The glow then stops dead in its tracts when it reaches Sanji. An odd hiss erupts from it despite not having a mouth before returning back to shelter Nami under its light.

Definitely not dead all right.

"I don't know. I'm too damn tired to question it," Nami sighs out, rubbing at her face, "I'm just going to ignore that ever happened."

And so they all carried on in their path, the air tense with confusion and unanswered questions.

That is, if the ground didn't start to rumble, seemingly out of nowhere.

The sand splits apart, like a crater bursting open from internal pressure, dividing the lot of them into groups on separate island-like platforms, though Zoro remains alone. The cracks seemed to be running until the edge of the horizon, there was no end in sight, the distance between him and anyone else becoming bigger as the seconds pass. It's sudden, it's weird and shit does Zoro fear that this island might just be more of a pain in the ass than it already had been.

Zoro's footing slips from him as he tumbles, slowly sliding down into the opening of the earth. Darkness was all that remained present beneath his feet, a seemingly endless flow of night stretching as far as one's eye could see. And Zoro wasn't the only one that slipped from this sudden catastrophe— Robin, Jimbei, Sanji, Franky, all of them, as did Luffy, who stretched his arms out in a desperate attempt to pull himself and a potential other crewmember with him, yet his efforts remained futile. The only one still standing, seemingly unaffected by the changes, was Nami, who could only watch as her friends get swallowed by the sand. Useless shrieking and yelling were all that remained before not a single sound was left. Her stomach churned and twisted, eyes wide. What in the actual, genuine fuck?

The fall is long. Long and harsh and no fun at all. Zoro has fallen down a bunch of different things before, from enormous devil-fruit users in Dressrosa to something as simple as trees, yet this was different. He had no one around him to catch his fall. No one around him that he could potentially help, either. No one in sight that he would have maybe been able to reassure. And there was no end in sight. He only had himself in the moment, a harsh reality he needs to accept sooner than later.

Who knows what might happen when he does hit the ground. How he might end up splattered all over the gravel. For now, he braces himself, squints his eyes and— ah. Well that fucking hurt. The landing that Zoro gets is rough, nowhere near cushioned, but he's alive. That's what matters. His body screams at him, a bolt of pain coursing through his veins for a mere seconds before vanishing, his head pounding with the intensity of a hundred suns. His hands scrape on the concrete floor beneath him, groaning as he sits up, his back feeling horribly sore. Just a bruise. That's all it would end up being. When had he become so careless about his back?

His surroundings are grey, dark, and cold despite the literal desert they had been walking through mere seconds ago. The light from above provides just enough stimuli for him to see, the cracks up high being noticeably shaped like roots of some sort. Zoro's unsure if it will really do anything, but how much would it really hurt to try? He takes a deep breath, bracing himself as he shouts.

"Hey! Can anyone hear me?!" Zoro yells, his voice beaming through the seemingly endless hallway in front of him. Yet, all that greets him is silence, a faint echo of his own voice in the distance being all that he gets.

Zoro knows he's tough enough to survive a fall like this. He'll live, save for maybe a couple bruises and cuts. Luffy will be more than fine. He's made out of rubber. Chopper will be fine. He has his monster point. Robin, too. She can quite literally catch herself before she'd hit the ground. Yet despite knowing damned well that the possibility of them dying was as close to nihil as possible, it doesn't stop him from worrying.

He's completely lost, with no way out of this hellhole, trapped inside the ground of some strange island, with Sanji acting completely off, Nami being ill, Brook having been kidnapped for some reason though luckily having been returned— he could go on and on. How can he not worry if this is the shit he's dealing with?

Zoro taps his side, checking if all his blades are still intact. Wado feels fine, Enma too, wouldn't have expected anything else either, and Kitetsu seemed fine as well, luckily.

"Hey!" Zoro shouts out for a second time, "I'm over here! Can anyone hear me?!"

Once again, silence is all that he gets in return.

If Zoro panics now he won't have a damn thing to hold onto anymore. He curses himself out under his breath, gritting his teeth in palpable frustration. Now where was he supposed to go? The hallway in front of him split into multiple paths where he had no idea to where they would lead. Frustration sure wasn't enough to describe how he felt right now.

Left, forward, right. Those were the options he had. There was up, too, but Zoro didn't possess the ability to fly, so that wouldn't do much. Left seemed to go down, forward didn't feel safe, and right—  why would anyone go right?

Left was the only option that didn't end up sending shivers up his spine by merely looking over. So, reluctantly, he steps forward, entering the hallway in the hopes of finding a way out of this shit hole.

The stairwell— why was there even a stairwell here that made zero sense, had someone been here before or was Zoro hallucinating? —  went both up and down, like a wave on a tide. As if things couldn't get any weirder. The further he treads, the more plant life reveals itself, the walls around Zoro being covered from head to toe with flowers and vines of sorts. As far as he's aware, plants aren’t supposed to do that. Or maybe they do, Zoro can't be bothered to care. Not with the situation he's in at the moment.

The hallway seems to go on and on, his only option being to go forth. The light he previously had was now out of reach as he had moved too far past the cracks up above. Never mind it, he can at least hold onto the walls for some sort of stability.

The Den-Den mushi in his Haramaki purrs, seemingly out of nowhere. Zoro scrambles to grab it, answering, though his voice cracks, "hello? Are you guys okay?"

"Zoro! Bro! " Franky spoke, cheerfully as always, "thank fuck you picked up. I'm doing okay. I was unsure if the transponder snails would even ring or connect at all but thank fuck it did. Any idea where you are right now?"

"No," Zoro sighs out, "I don't. I'm in this big hallway with a singular staircase that seems to lead to nowhere. What about you?"

"Ah, crap. Well uh, I'm with Jimbei, we're in this odd sort of cathedral looking room. There's like, one door, so I don't know. Maybe you'll end up with us soon enough." Franky attempts to joke, but it seems to fly right over Zoro's head. He takes the possibility a little too serious. He hopes with all that he has that it won't take long before he sees a familiar face again.

"Noted," Zoro mumbles, continuing on with his path. "Has anyone else picked up too or am I the first one you called?"

Franky stays silent for a moment; a sign Zoro does not appreciate nor like in the slightest. Takes him too long before he receives an answer of sorts. "I tried to call Nami first. Couldn't even get her signal, same goes for Sanji. Then I tried to call Luffy, he answered, even though that conversation did not last long. Then I attempted to contact you. I'm glad you picked up."

Right, Nami had somehow avoided being swallowed in with the rest of them. It makes no sense why she remained untouched, but there's not much that any of them can do about it now.

"Please keep me updated," Zoro sighs out, "I need to know if everyone's alright."

"No problemo. I'll call ya back shortly, 'kay?" A hum from the other side of the transponder lets Franky know he understood, ending the call with a little more relief than before.

"Alright," Franky chirped, "that's two. Who should we try now?"

His voice echoes through the chamber, bouncing off the stone walls surrounding the pair. Just like in the village they stayed at, there were statues carved into the walls themselves, though this time not out of wood. There existed too little and too many things in the room all at once, podiums with detailed carvings, yet the stage itself remained empty, seats build out of only a mere frame, carvings of windows in the wall that lead out to nothingness, mocking the desire and need for any sort of escape. Franky wonders who the predecessor that made all of this is, curiosity spiking further as he thinks of the reason why this room was built in the first place.

"We could try reaching out for Usopp," Jimbei suggests, "I don't assume he would appreciate a fall like this. Neither did I of course, but I am worried for him."

Fair point. Usopp has his strengths no doubt, plenty of them—  though it's known he isn't afraid of showing his soft spots either. Franky dials the number he's sure to be Usopp's, the transponder ringing loudly through the chamber. The pair waits in anticipation, hoping for some sort of connection.

"What," a rough voice speaks from the other side, one that is most definitely not Usopp's. Franky swears it sounds somewhat familiar though. "If you're trying to sell Germa something you have to dial a different number— how the fuck did you even get mine?"

Not a friend, Franky repeats to himself, not a friend. He scratches the back of his head, just as confused as the man on the other side of the line.

"I dunno, I wasn't tryin' to call you." As odd as this was, the unknown caller gave Franky hope. If he'd somehow been able to contact someone, presumably on the other end of the sea, then the rest of the crew would most likely answer too. At least there's now a way of contacting one another—  Franky was almost a hundred percent sure of it. The only doubt he still had came from the fact that both Nami and Sanji weren't able to stay linked up. Which was fine. Franky would figure it out. He always does.

Jimbei doesn't trust it. No way in either heaven or hell would he ever— somehow, they had contacted Germa, out of all people. Niji, if he's not mistaken. Franky was not there during the events of that accursed wedding, so he wouldn't know. Jimbei did. He'd recognize that tainted voice anywhere. So, he remains quiet, not wanting to escalate. He barely got out alive, who knows what kind of tech-upgrades that shithole of a kingdom got in the meantime.

After a couple seconds of silence on both ends, Franky simply hangs up, flashing Jimbei a jumbled grin.

"Well! Guess that guy must've gotten out of bed on the wrong leg," He exclaims, a laugh following soon after. How he remained as positive as he was right now came as a mystery to Jimbei.

Sanji's about the same. Staying all up beat and happy whilst in deep, deep, unknown shit? No thank you. The hallway he's found himself in was dark, the air tasting humid in his mouth. The plunge downward had gotten him good— he's got not a single clue on where he is right now either. Not like anyone knew, but still.

It's hard to walk. His legs feel fine, he can still stand like normal. Yet, his body felt heavy. Like someone was grabbing onto his shoulders and forcing Sanji to stay right where he is.

It's annoying more than anything. Nothing he won't survive.

Sanji continues on forward, tired eyes scanning his surroundings as best he can. Despite having mostly iron skin, he bleeds. It's dark, it's vibrant, something Sanji is not used to seeing coming from himself. Blood wasn't anything he is afraid of.

But right now? Seeing streaks of red run down his own arm? He's gotten injured during battle plenty of times, but from a fall, out of all things? Never. Makes him shiver a little.

Despite the blood, he marches onward into the darkness. It's nothing too scary. Like Sanji can really get hurt in the first place. His fingers trace past the walls, the rocky formation pushing back at him. He must be really deep underground...that would explain the freezing temperatures that graze his fingers. The light from up above was a mere dot in the sky. Sure, he could attempt to skywalk his way out of this mess. If push comes to shove, he might. But he'd rather not fall down a second time.

"You..."

A voice Sanji has no clue of who it belongs to echoes off the walls. He looks around, but evidently, finds nothing. He must be hearing things or something. Hands in his pockets, he continues his trek through the seemingly endless path in front of him.

"You are one lucky man. I hate that for you." There that voice is again— Sanji turns and turns, trying to originate the source of the one speaking. Yet despite his frantic searching, it brings nothing, the weight on his shoulders only getting heavier and heavier.

A ghost, perhaps. One that roamed these hallways and that tortured anyone who might enter. That made sense.

Sanji rubs at his face, a groan escaping him. Because of course he had to be the one who ends up getting haunted by a stupid ghost in some stupid cavern on a more than just stupid island. How annoying.

"Yeah, fuck, okay, what do you want. Are you gonna haunt me? Like I'm scared of some dumb spirit."

Something pulls at his shoulder. Sanji doesn't bother to turn, crossing his arms and instead huffing, acting nonchalant about the touch. Like the apparition did not exist.

Which ends up getting Sanji dragged off even deeper down this, as he would call it, shit hole of a cavern. The stone is anything but kind to him as it opens up under Sanji's feet, a blue glow seemingly 'guiding his path', scratching and cutting at his skin, the speed not helping as he falls down yet again. Blood falls on his face as he drops, the mass pushing and pulling, shoving, and moving him to hit whatever is in reach. And he gets hurt all right. Sanji bites his tongue, hissing through gritted teeth. Sky walking doesn't do anything but only push him further down.

The impact of his landing is harsher than before, even if the distance itself was shorter than his first initial drop. Blue light shines brightly at him, and Sanji has to squint to protect his eyes. It forms into a mixed shape, then into a body he doesn't recognize with a face that's familiar but isn't all the same and then—

Wow. Luffy? Fucking Luffy, out of all faces? Luffy wasn't dead. He can't be. What the fuck?

"I hate you." Great first impression. Sanji scrambles to create distance, his hands burning as they're pressed into the harsh surface of the gravel he sits on. The figure steps closer, raises its hand and creates an ominous circle of what Sanji guesses are to be flames around the two of them. Blue flames are his thing, but Sanji's got bigger things to worry about than some stupid attack being similar to one of his own, even if his ego doesn't appreciate it.

"Okay? I don't give a shit," Sanji spits back. The figure steps closer and in one quick move, presses its palm to Sanji's face— god it feels like his face is burning off it hurts so fucking bad— and manages to push the cook to the ground, kneeing at his stomach.

"I know what you're after. Let me tell you right here, right now, that whatever it is you're trying, I can assure you it won't end well for you. You will not get my heart."

Heart? What in the shit was he spewing on about? Sanji laughs despite his face feeling like it is melting off his skull, a cough leaving him. The fact it had Luffy's face didn't make it any better. But like it matters. This wasn't Luffy. This was just some stupid ghost with very firey hands, that's all.

"I don't know what you're going on about," Sanji answers, "I'm not here for your heart. What do you even want from me?"

The ghoul presses Sanji's face against the gravel with unexpected force, and he lets out a groan he's embarrassed of making.

"The 'artifact' you're after. That's my heart. And I know exactly what kinds of people are after it. Bad people. Really bad people. But I don't quite know what your deal is."

Sanji doesn't bother responding. So what— it was what had been asked of him. He's not trying to cause anyone any harm. This is merely an attempt to complete the mission he's been put to complete over a decade ago. Sure, some people might die, but that's not his problem per se. Not like he cares, either.

"Why do you have Luffy's face? He's not dead." Sanji eventually asks, a poor attempt to get the ghoul— though he guesses it to be Nika, from what he can remember Robin explaining, making a dumb guess all the same— to let go of his face at the very least. It glares at him, hissing through gritted teeth.

"You very well know you don't care. Quit trying to act like you do." Sanji attempts to roll his eyes, though lets it be for now, his face still burning with that odd sensation on his skin, like there's something trying to rip open his flesh from the inside.

"Fine, whatever—" Sanji coughs out, "are you done?"

Nika frowns but lifts his hand off Sanji's face at once. The ring of fire disperses, casting that same dark shadow back into the room. Nika can't quite grasp just what the man's soul is trying. What side of history would he have been on during his time? He can't help but wonder...

A cold sensation creeps up Nika's spine. How long has it been since he's last seen the sun? Too long, that, he does know.

This is odd. One moment he's on the brink of death, and the next, he feels just fine. An attempt to sit up is made— and it works. Sort of. He can feel how the Icey air currents blow through into the cavern he had been buried in all those years ago, yet it's not his body that sits up. Rather, an imitation of it. And he's blueberry colored. That's definitely intimidating.

Looking around, only ice and snow surrounds him. So, to get things straight. He can't move his body. Cool. Okay. That means his soul presumably got bound to this island's soil instead of getting absorbed by it. Which meant that his powers were now useless, even if his conscience wasn't dead. Fuck. How long has it even been since that Imu guy, or whatever his name was, had kicked him down like a stray dog? He must be laughing so hard right now.

"Hello?" Nika attempts to get his voice out, an echo bouncing off the walls, reverberating right back to him.

He can still feel. Still touch. He's more than aware of his senses— in a way, he's glad he hadn't died. Yet all the same, would it have been better? To let all of his powers pass away with him? Sure, the Devil-fruit he ate is a different thing, and that's not exactly what he's worried about either. It's what he knows his body is capable of.

Who knows what might happen if his bodily remains, however they might look now, fall into the hands of the wrong people. He can't let it happen. That would mean certain death for everyone.

Then so be it. Nika takes in a breath of air, eyes stinging as he attempts to keep his composure for no one but himself.

He was alive. Fuck, he really was.

This would be his thing for, what, the next thousand years or so? Nika lost his sense of time a long while back. All he's certain of is that he will make sure things stay balanced, even if he won't be able to extend his hands further than on this island. It's the least he can do.

"Yeah, I'm done. No need to snarl," Nika spits back, huffing as his arms cross. Sanji rises from the ground, patting away the gravel from his shirt and pants. Bits and pieces of already dried up blood cling to the fabric, both his own and from another, but Nika makes no remarks. Right now is not the time.

"Please. Just choose what is right. You can still turn back you know. There's no shame in that." It's a futile attempt to get through to Sanji. The guy's stubborn, he's noticed that much. But all he gets in response is silence. Just as it's always been with every other human he's come into contact with up until this point, whether that be alive or dead.

Greedy bastards.

"Sanji?" A third voice speaks from the corner of the room, Zoro's panic, and concern, too, palpable. There's a hole in the wall that Nika does not remember being there a couple minutes ago— or maybe he's just tired. There's a stairwell right fucking there, damnit. He and the blonde turn to face him, both unsure as to why— Sanji won't even ask how, the guy's simply an expert at getting lost it seems, even in these neck-tight catacombs— he's here. Just how much had he witnessed?

"Luffy?! What is going on?!" Zoro steps forward, drawing Wado from its hilt. If this is what he thinks it is, Sanji's in trouble. A lot of trouble.

"Hey! Calm down, fuck, this isn't Luffy," Sanji manages to get at least that much out before Wado is pressed to his neck, an awkward laugh leaving him.

"Then you better start talking."

The light that was first in the room with them fades instantaneously, throwing them into blinding darkness. Zoro wasn't supposed to see Nika here. No one else besides the blonde was. Ahg, forget that— Sanji can feel a sharp pang crossing his chest the moment it does. He bounces back, feeling his blood— more of the stuff, how great— drip down his chest and now ruined-beyond-repair shirt.

Zoro cut him. He fucking cut him. The audacity!

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry," Zoro begins, "for not having done this earlier. You've clearly lost your mind. I'm going to settle our promise once and for all now." Sanji raises his hand to his chest, feeling across the cut-open skin as fresh blood slowly leaks out of it. As if he were some carcass to desecrate.

Might as well put up a show now. Zoro's the one that lost his mind here, blatantly attacking Sanji out of nowhere. And in the dark too! That's foul, very foul, even if he's more than aware he would have done the same. Something inside of the blonde tugged at him to leave it be, however— something that Sanji ignored the moment it appeared. He didn't need to talk to anyone, and surely not to this walking piece of shit that calls himself a swordsman.

"I just said that wasn't Luffy, are you deaf? God, look, I know you're stupid, but this really takes the cake," Sanji spits back, salvaging a cigarette from the inner pocket of his suit, dropping the cloth that clawed at his shoulders to the ground as he lights the tip with his finger. The smoke in his lungs is a nice distraction from the caveman yelling at his face.

"Do you ever shut the hell up? Do me a favor and get down already. Makes it easier for the both of us."

"How about no?" Sanji hums in response.

"How about I pummel your face into the ground until your eyes pop out their sockets and your nose is on the other side of your face?"

What a pleasant conversation. Zoro tightens his grip around Wado, recalling what he's seen in his mind's eye. Someone with Luffy's face talking to Sanji about what, exactly? Zoro doesn't think he wants to know, but with how he has already kept himself closed off, right now might just be the best time for action, if not the best of times. Get the bastard to spill every single thing he's been so worried about these last couple of days.

"Zoro," Sanji hums, "you don't want to do this. I don't even want to do this. Are you really going to cut at me just because you have your speculations about something I did? Come now."

No. Not this again. Not that gentle voice of his that makes Zoro want to smash his own brains in with a rock. Instead he frowns, raising Wado overhead just slightly. One clean cut and it would be over. Then there would be no more drama or hatred, and fuck, maybe he'll even take the corpse with him. Who knows at this point.

"Don't," Zoro mutters under his breath, his voice wavering slightly, "that's not true. Cut the bullcrap and just tell me, what do you want? Are you trying to give me a heart attack here for fun? What is your deal?"

"My deal?" Sanji gasps out dramatically, almost offended, though silence falls mere moments after. What was his deal? Sanji takes a drag from his cigarette, a deep one, to clear the fog in his mind as he thinks of an answer. He doesn't have one other than 'go fuck yourself ', and he could guess that's not the type of answer Zoro was looking for. So instead, for once since having set foot on this island, he speaks the truth. And god, does it hit Zoro hard.

—

Robin had surely not expected that intense of a fall. A crack like this, leading to catacombs, it doesn't make sense. How is the island holding itself up? She chalks it up to the Grand line being its usual, unexplainable self, even if it irritates her some. She's smart, no doubt, this island simply carried too many mysteries with too little answers.

"Ough....my, Robin, are you okay? That fall was bone rattling. Pun not intended this time," Brook exclaims, his voice bouncing off the walls with a loud echo. Stalagmites rose from the ground up, adding to the vibrations in the air. Good thing she didn't land on those.

"I'm all right. Just a little bruised, but nothing I wouldn't have expected." She replies calmly, taking her sweet time to look around. The catacombs had a strange atmosphere to it, one she can't quite seem to place. Robin rises from the ground, clearing her clothes of any unnecessary debris that stuck to her.

"At least we're together," Brook hums, quieter this time around, "what a challenge that would have been otherwise."

"Indeed."

Why was this happening, let's start with that. It's a broad question, yet an important one either way. Robin is certain it had to do with Nami, the blue glow, the insect, there's no way it doesn't link together. So, she thinks. About the journey, about the island, the odd colored sky, the villages and people that they have already come across by now, about Morly, how he seemingly didn't matter anymore according to Sanji—

Sanji. Sanji has to be involved. But how? A feeling of despair and uncertainty coils in her gut, yet she hopes that this is merely from the fall, and not a bad omen.

The Den-Den mushi she keeps in her pocket rings, the sound reverberating off the walls. It's unpleasantly loud, so she answers swiftly, pressing the hollow shell to her ear.

"Yo, Robin! That's numero three to pick up," Franky happily exclaims, "ya got anyone with you there?"

"Oh, yes, I am with Brook. I wasn't expecting you to call. Smart thinking."

"N'aahw, no need for flattery." Brook covers his boney mouth with his hands, almost as if he were listening in on some hot gossip being passed around.

"So, uh, I'm with Jimbei right now in a cathedral-lookin' room with one door, it's okay-ishly cold here. We didn't fall for too long. How about you two?"

Robin glances over at Brook, a sigh leaving her. Then they must be pretty far off from Franky and Jimbei. Their fall was horrendously long, and the temperature was near freezing, from what Robin could tell. That means they have to go up. That's at least better than being left completely in the dark.

"We've fallen down quite a bit. It's Icey cold, but we'll manage. Just keep us updated alright? We'll try to head back up."

"Sure thing. Stay safe." With that, the call ends, the transponder snail being tucked right back into Robin's pocket. Even if the call would have gone on for longer, it's quite literally impossible to share any details or locations at the moment. For now, they would all have to rely on frequent calling, playing a guessing game more or less until everyone got out.

"You know, you two are very cute together," Brook chirps in, a cheeky little grin on his boney face.

"Let us focus on the task ahead, shall we?" Robin brushes the topic aside, trying to get a better look around for any hallways of sorts. That would surely help them on their journey ahead. Climbing up is an option too, but she would rather not plunge down for a second time if fatigue from the hike up became too much. Multiple limbs rise from the soil, tracing past the rocky formation until she finds a cave-in of sorts, seemingly headed up. Then that is where they shall go.

Up the formation, they walked, the sound of boots grinding into the dirt being all that filled the eerie silence that surrounded the pair. Who knows what might be waiting for them around the corner. A beast? Another fall downwards? Or perhaps the corpse of prior explorers?

What she most certainly wasn't expecting, however, was a ghoul with the same glow to it as the glow that had kept Nami alive and well, sitting up against the wall seemingly quite upset over something.

"Hello?" Robin says softly, not wanting to disturb its peace or anger it. It doesn't return her gaze, doesn't even respond to her.

"We're not going to harm you. Are you all right?" This time, it's Brook who asks the question, and the sight of a talking, walking skeleton definitely seemed to peak the ghoul's interest. Or rather, it seemed confused as to how that was even possible. Brook had gotten used to that by now.

"How are you....you know what, not gonna bother asking. What do you want?" Its voice is rough, its expression rougher. And Luffy's. That was Luffy's face.

There's no way he had died. He could not have died. That would mean that this ghost in front of them got to him before anyone else had, or something of the sort. And, if Robin is correct, both Chopper and Usopp should have fallen down with Luffy.

He's not dead. He can't be.

"We're lost. The ground cracked open and we fell down, do you maybe have any idea on how to get back to the surface of these catacombs?" Robin hopes it won't be painful, if anything, but she knows not to expect too much.

"Right, sorry about that. Was not trying to harm any of you other than that blondie. Didn't know how to get him separated from the group so this is what I ended up coming up with. Just have some patience, okay? You'll get back up soon. Fuck, you're entire crew is annoyingly good at disrupting my peace."

Robin frowns. None of that except the latter part sounded anywhere near comforting. The ghost shrugs, stretches (because ghosts can feel their bodies, somehow?) and gets up, yawning tiredly, though Robin wasn't done yet.

"Wait," she tries, a frustrated expression clawing at her face, "what do you mean blondie? What has he done? What's going on here? Who are you?"

"Be patient. That's all I ask of you. And, fuck, if you want to, keep an eye on him, he's not up to much good—  trying to steal my heart and all." It shrugs, as if this was an everyday thing.

That sentence alone cleared up a lot. My heart. That means this is Nika. That means Sanji knows something about this island that the rest didn't. That means danger from within. Okay! Cool! Robin has absolutely no clue what to do with that information! Rationally, sure, she does know, but in the spur of the moment that rationality had been thrown out the window of a twelve-story tall building. It left her speechless.

"You weren't even supposed to see me. But hey, that, uh....that green gorilla that barged in when I was clearly in control of things also saw me, so I'm doing quite a good job at hiding myself, aren't I? Look, you'll all be fine, I did my part, now it's time for you all to keep yourselves in check. It's best to just leave the moment you can."

"I understand, but we're looking for a certain flower for our friend, she's quite ill. Leaving until we've found it doesn't seem like the best of plans, if I can be honest," Brook adds, an awkward laugh following as he notes Nika's not too pleasant expression. He rolls his eyes, rubs at his face and groans.

"Hollow's path. It's cold, it's all winter-y, that's where you'll find it, just keep heading south. Please, just leave after you do."

"Seriously? Oh, thank you, we most certainly will. I appreciate it." Robin smiles gently at Nika, though all he does is stare at her, seemingly uncaring for Nami. But that's fine. He's helped them more than enough anyway. Now they would just have to be patient.

Patience was something Robin could crown herself on. She had loads of it. Now just to hope she, and the rest of the crew, collectively had enough of it to make it through the day without biting each other's heads off, though she fears Sanji will have it rough.

As long as the truth reveals itself soon enough, things would be fine.

Right?

Chapter Text

Anguish swirls around in Zoro's chest. It feels like he might just vomit if he hears any more of what Sanji has to say.

"I have never loved you."

It stings. But not like when a bee or wasp just so happens to take its chance to jab at someone's skin. This stings like Mihawk's sword, swinging at his chest over and over again as if trying to cut his heart out.

"This was my duty all along."

Some bullshit excuse that Zoro hopes not to be true. Maybe this really was the island's fault, that something here influenced Sanji to poison Nami and turn on everyone he knows the blonde to care for.

"If you tell anyone, I swear I'll kill Luffy one way or another."

It's a threat that comes in via one ear and exits out the other. One that Zoro has trouble processing. One that he doesn't believe. Sanji wouldn't do that. Not the man he knows, anyway. But here's the issue with that; the Sanji in front of him has proved time and time again he's not the one Zoro has grown close to, that this is someone entirely different. So he is forced to believe it.

And now Zoro is forced to kill him. Because what other option is there?

At first glance the thought seems stupid. Delirious, even. If you would have told the Zoro from a week ago that he'd be confronting Sanji about a murder attempt on Nami and explain the rest of the mess he's currently in, Zoro would laugh. But now? It's a shitty reality he's unable to avoid any longer. Not a dream, not a nightmare, just a big load of shit he's gotten himself knee deep into.

"Say something for fuck's sake," Sanji spits out, his voice cutting through the tense silence that fills the air around them. Zoro doesn't have the heart to speak, gritting his teeth through palpable frustration.

Sanji then pushes Zoro. His hands are used for something violent. Something other than cooking. Yet Zoro continues to hold his tongue. He needs time to think his steps through, even if his options are limited.

There's always the choice of making true on his initial promise and killing the bastard. It's a last resort Zoro keeps putting off for as long as he's able to, even if it's getting harder to do by the second. The manic look Sanji wears, his anger that Zoro knows is there even if Sanji doesn't fully show it, it all makes it so much harder to believe things will be all right.

He could fight, maybe even break Sanji's legs. Drag him back to the crew and keep him on the ship for as long as it takes for this ridiculous anger spell to wear off. It's violent and unpleasant, but not as bad as death itself. Either way, it doesn't matter what he chooses. Talking is the only way to fix Sanji. Zoro's unable to think of any other rational idea that won't involve beating the living shit out of each other. But he knows that Sanji is stubborn— it might be totally out of reach, and honestly? Zoro's too tired to try.

"What's the matter? Cat caught your tongue or what? Don't look at me like that, you make yourself look even dumber than you already are." Sanji mocks him. Taunts him for feeling, for being human. What else had Zoro expected? To be written a love letter and have this all be over with at the snap of a finger? No, that's merely a wet dream, and he's not stupid enough to fall for it, even if doing so would be more than nice right about now.

"I do love you." Zoro's voice cracks, though he continues. "You know why I haven't slit your throat yet? Why you're still standing? Exactly because of that. I've had over two years to think shit through, I know what I want. If I have to push my feelings aside for everyone else's safety, so be it. I will fulfill our promise. It's best if you sleep with one eye open tonight."

"Oh, fuck, really? You don't have the guts to kill me now? What are you, some knight in shining armor? Don't make me laugh." Sanji scoffs, his stance unstable. Zoro can see it. The way his feet aren't grounded, how he leans on himself for extra balance— whomever that ghost was, they sure did a number on him.

"I could kill you right where I stand. But I'm guessing dying in some cave isn't the most gracious of ways to pass."

Sanji cocks an eyebrow. Zoro ignores it. He finds it rather odd, that he'd care for something so trivial. Best case scenario would be that the blonde wouldn't die, and everything returns back to normal, but Zoro knows that won't happen.

He's stalling. It takes all that Zoro has for him not to just leave at this very moment, takes him every ounce of willpower not to just let him have it his way. But that would be unfair, and kind of stupid, too.

It's either Sanji or the rest. And the choice is clear.

"Tomorrow. I don't care for when, just tomorrow. I'm going to fight you and slice your head off your neck. You don't want to talk, right? Then that's the second-best option I have to offer. Just act normal for the time being. I don't want to deal with your antics if all you end up being is a pain in my ass."

"Fine. I'm in. If that means I get to beat the shit out of you then gladly." Sanji seems happy. Zoro isn't.

Was this it? Was this the end of everything? The voice in Zoro's head screams, yells, and cries, only to be ignored and discarded of.

Tomorrow. Zoro still has time.

He doesn't think, doesn't bother to do so as he reaches out for Sanji, holding him in a tight embrace. Sanji doesn't react, other than raising his arms and grinning in disgust.

It's nice. It's familiar. It's comfortable. And Sanji hates it.

"Are you, uh, gonna get the fuck off me or what?" He mutters, though Zoro doesn't speak, doesn't react to his words just yet. Tomorrow things would change. For now he basks in the present, taking in the feeling of Sanji. Hugging a corpse isn't quite the same as holding a living being after all. A rough hand runs itself up and down Sanji's back, and it throws him for a loop. The last time they were as close as this was ages ago, although calling a mere week that would be a little dramatic.

Zoro missed it either way.

Sanji doesn't appreciate the gesture. He feels dirty, like he had just swam in contaminated water. So a kick to the gut it is. With full force, or at the very least as much force as Sanji can muster in this position, he knees Zoro in the stomach, launching him back a couple of feet and knocking himself over in the process. The gravel scrapes his shoulder, a scowl growing on his face. Every fucking time they touch, he gets hurt. What a joke of a man Zoro was. 

And despite how he can see Sanji's anger, how he can see how much the blonde hates him, Zoro feels contempt with this.

"Gross." Sanji's voice echoes, a painful reminder that this 'peace' won't last.

"I know."

Then silence falls. Sanji walks away, the wound on his chest still bleeding profusely, though it gets ignored and overshadowed by frustration.

And Zoro sighs, rubs at his face, and decides it's best to just give up on trying. He lays down on the gravel, the stones unkind to his back. Maybe love wasn't meant for him. Maybe he was destined for a lonely life somewhere in the mountains of who knows where instead of surrounded by others.

Maybe he wasn't ever meant to be loved.

It's almost laughable if the situation wasn't so tragic.

—

As Nika vanishes, a smile tugs at Robin's lips. One of sadness as well as relief. Things were starting to make sense. She liked it when things made sense. It's definitely a little less than pleasant, to put it lightly, to think about how Sanji is somehow at the center of this mess. Her crewmate, her friend, the man she thought she knew— now having been revealed to have been wearing a mask all along. He wanted something, and now he was getting it if he isn't stopped.

It's poetic, in a way. How a monster had hidden between them in plain sight, although phrasing it like that might be a little farfetched. Sanji was no monster. Perhaps this had all been a misunderstanding. The possibility is unlikely, though not something to be shoved aside and forgotten about. From what Robin has seen, Sanji is a kind man. For as long as she's known him, he has been nothing but a sweetheart, even with the occasional struggle here and there— something that makes a person human. We all make mistakes sometimes. Yet this revelation, it stirs up ideas and rings alarm bells not reserved for a man of his caliber.

But why would Nika lie?

He wouldn't. So Robin has no choice but to believe him.

"Say," Brook hums, his tone oddly optimistic despite the situation, though that might just be how Brook is, "should we tell anyone yet? I mean, this isn't anything small."

"I don't know. Maybe it's best if we privately talk to Sanji first. There's always a chance that this was all just a misunderstanding. I'd like to rule out that option first."

It's the best Robin could come up with at the moment. Telling anyone would be drastic and surely nothing positive. Who knows how the rest might react— it wouldn't be the first time internal conflict had occurred within the crew, though this was nothing like at Ennies Lobby....unsurprisingly, a wave of nostalgia washes over Robin. What a time that had been. How kind her friends were despite her actions. How loved she felt with them.

Perhaps Sanji faced a similar issue. Not feeling loved in the ways he should be, so he makes the same mistake she made— yes, that had to be it, even if the third-party interfering with the blonde's actions and thoughts remained a mystery to her.

"Then we do that," Brook sighs out, clicking his non-existent tongue. All they could do now was carry on forth. They would have to be patient, Nika said. Then they'd get out. But for how long? Were they supposed to gather somewhere first? The lack of details annoyed Robin in ways she didn't think it would— she should really start to get a grip on her focus. This was getting embarrassing.

...

Who is she even kidding? They were stuck in this shit hole of a cave without a way to get out, all because of Sanji, somehow. And she's blaming and dragging herself down for being worried, as if she doesn't have all the right to be. So what if she's not as focused as she used to always be? Sleep hasn't been coming to her easily these past couple of days, worry clawing at her mind every other hour. So what if Robin feels like things are going to shit? They were, it was a mere fact she would be stating.

God. Maybe she really just needs a good nap after all. One so deep she can fully recharge and forget all the hurt from these past couple of days. There's no way things could go even further south than they already went, right?

—

Nami can manage her stress. She's been through enough shit to know how to deal with her emotions in times of worry. But not right now. This was unlike anything she's ever been through— like it's an everyday activity for your friends to suddenly get dragged into a hole in the ground whilst you yourself remain perfectly fine. The heat from the sun didn't even feel like it was supposed to, it felt more like she was being bathed with water that had cooled down to just the right temperature. What was going on?

Walking around wouldn't do anything. It was either going back to the village that they got kicked out of or continuing forth, but anyone with a brain would realize that that wouldn't do anyone any good. So she stays right where she is, pacing up and down as she glares down the ravine.

It's deep. From where Nami stands it seems as if you could keep on falling and falling with no end in sight.

Death. Nami hadn't thought a lot about it ever since being rescued from Arlong. It's always remained an afterthought that she doesn't think she needs to focus on anymore. Things have long since changed for the better, and Nami intents to keep it like that.

She fears dying. It's the process that scares her most—from one moment to the next, you might be taking your last breath without knowing it. And now she was alone. That her mind wandered to the topic wasn't entirely unexpected.

Oh, what to do, what to do. Pacing won't help, yet it's all Nami is able to get done. She can only think, being left here with just her thoughts. Had anyone passed from the fall? Was everyone all right? The questions flooded in like a dam that had burst open, worry lacing every inch of her mind.

She wouldn't know what to do if she ended up all alone again.

All alone on some fucked up island that keeps trying to tear shit apart whilst she's still ill and whilst none of her family had returned yet and whilst she had absolutely nothing to protect herself with other than her climatact and whilst the world just—seemed to hate her.

After everything, was it not enough? Had Nami not suffered enough yet? Were the gods that cruel?

Nami wasn't religious. She'd be surprised to find out if any of her friends were. All you have traveling the ocean is yourself, the trust in others and the hopes for clear weather, or so she thought anyway. It's not easy surviving island after island, getting chased by hostile creatures or scum of the earth that call themselves human. It's not easy getting hunted after by the world. So you stick together and work things out. How else does one survive on the seas?

Nami sinks to her knees. And she cries. She cries hard. For once, she's just going to let it all out. Playing it tough won't help bring anyone back. She can't help but look down the ravine again, imagining just what could have happened, though she shakes the thought almost immediately. Nami can't stand to bear any more thoughts like that.

Death was inevitable. She knows this. But why now? Out of all the things that could have happened, why this? Why here?

It's all just so stupid.

"Hey!" Nami screams, her lungs burning as she yells out, "guys! Please! Can you hear me?!"

The sound bounces off the stone below her, but no answer ever comes to help with her question. A second attempt is made— but again, there's nothing. Not even a chirp.

"No..fuck! Fuck! Why?! Why, why why! "

Her fists hit the sand, as if attempting to scratch away at the surface, almost like she was attempting to dig into the ground to try and bring everyone back. Tears make their way down her face, her sobs pained and inevitably futile. She can't do anything. She can't stretch herself out like Luffy, can't grow limbs like Robin, can't build a stairwell to go down on in a matter of seconds like Franky, can't climb her way down like Jimbei could've— she can't do anything. So she cries.

"Why not me?! Please, please," she pleads, punting the sand over and over again as if that were to make a difference. Alone all over again and Nami would always be alone and she'd never have anyone what wouldn't eventually get tired of her and even the earth got tired of her now and took away her friends and now—

And now what? Was death waiting for her too? There's no way it isn't.

So she lays down. The sun overhead is bright, almost painfully so as she gazes up at it. Like it mattered if she stayed or went. Death would come guide her to somewhere....somewhere where Bell-mère might be waiting for her too. Would she be proud? Would she think that Nami had lived a good life? That she has helped people despite her own struggles? God, she hopes so.

Death didn't seem so scary anymore. Sure, it's still terrifying, but Bell-mère is there too. If Nami had to attempt to describe just how much she has missed her, she'd have authored multiple novels by now and made enough Berrie off of it to retire at the ripe age of thirty. But alas, she's in a desert of fuck knows where, probably on the brink of death, even if she might not know it.

Nami closes her eyes. Waiting like this would be better, maybe even more peaceful, she guesses.

Until she feels the ground rumble once more.

She sits up in a hurry, looking down the ravine and hoping with her entire being that this is what she thinks it is— that her friends, her Nakama, her family, would all come right back and that no one would be hurt and that everything would be peachy and that they could finally just leave this accursed island.

She's right about the first thing. As if the wind is pushing up in ways it shouldn't, she sees everyone float right back up, being shot off into the sky as if it were a bed made out of the softest of feathers and not the literal fucking sky. They're not out of the clear just yet anyway. Nami wipes at her face and shouts, with Luffy and Usopp being the first two to see her waving.

"Brace yourselves, this is gonna be a rough one," Franky shouts out, holding at the very least Usopp and Chopper in his arms just in case. Luffy laughs, inflating himself like a balloon and grabbing the very edge of the ravine to pull himself down, swiftly changing course so he won't tumble back in. He manages to provide a soft and smooth landing for everyone, though Franky lands all by himself, not even a scratch on his robotic body to be seen.

They were back. Even if it made zero sense, Nami didn't care. They were back. 

She runs into the very first person that just so happens to be close to her, that being Robin, holding her as tight as she can whilst she sobs and complains about how worried she was.

Stupid island with its stupid tricks.

"I was so fucking worried— you have no clue how much that felt like straight hell!" Nami shouts out, her tears staining Robin's shirt a darker shade.

"I'm sorry," Robin hums, running a loving hand over Nami's back, "we're here now."

As much as Robin wants to say she doesn't have a clue as to why that happened, she sort of, most certainly, kind of does. So she remains quiet, giving Brook a firm but pushing glance. He should attempt to get a head start on things.

"Are you all right?" Sanji asks her, startling Nami with his sudden appearance. She nods, gasping as she lays eyes on the awful wound that crosses over Sanji's chest. How did that come to be? Everyone else seems to be fine. Why did it seem like Sanji was the only one truly hurt here?

"You should be asking yourself that— what happened?" She mutters in response, the grip she has on Robin growing slightly tighter.

"Oh, nothing, it's just a scratch."

Chopper grabs Sanji's hand firmly, dragging him off so he can take a better look at the gouged-out flesh wound, his more than annoyed squalling fading to the background. Just a scratch, yeah— right. Chopper would most certainly lecture him about it but probably forgive him right afterwards.

She's not alone anymore. Whatever that was, it scared the living shit out of her in ways she doesn't think she's able to put into words. But she's not alone.

Nami takes a moment to scan past everyone. Robin seems fine— feels fine, too. Nothing that's been broken or scratched. Jinbei looks fine, maybe a little dusty— as did Franky. There's not a single bruise to be seen on Luffy, of course. Brook's hair looks a little bewildered, nothing that can't be fixed, however. Usopp just seems a little shaken, which she can understand more than he probably knows. Nothing that makes it seem like Chopper is injured either.

And then there's Zoro. As if death itself had him in its grasp and let him go just in time. As if he'd been thrown into a blender and had gotten pieced together by a bunch of demons.

Nami's not dumb. She can put one and one together. Something escalated, and Zoro cut Sanji. The wound looks too smooth for something a rock wall or stalagmite to be blamed for.

She doesn't think she wants to know just what had happened. Maybe ignorance really is bliss.

"I'm worried. Maybe coming here was really a bad idea. I'm sorry, I just— I never intended to get sick. This is all my fault isn't it?"

"What?" Robin says, her expression and her words tense, "no, it's not your fault. People get sick, it happens. None of this is your fault, I promise. Please don't think that."

"Still, it's because of me that we came here, it's because of me that we ended up looking for some dumb flower. And we still haven't found it either. This is just a waste of time."

It's all just so stupid. People are getting hurt left and right because of her. Because she got sick. Something that could have been prevented by maybe just wearing a mask or something or taking it a little easier— fighting an emperor like Kaido, out of all people, isn't just some everyday activity after all.

Sometimes Nami wonders how things would have gone if Arlong had never come along. But right now she shoves it to the back of her mind. You can't change the past, after all.

"Actually," Robin begins, a sly smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth, "I think I might know where this dastardly flower of ours is. Let's just say that through convenient circumstances, me and Brook managed to figure out where it resides. Apparently, there's something here called the Hollow's Path, it lays close by from here. It's cold, so you might want to stick close to Franky whilst we're there."

"Are you serious? You're not just saying this for the sake of it are you?" And it's a dumb question really. Nami knows that Robin wouldn't joke about something like this. That's not like her.

"I'm more than serious. But I think Chopper's a little busy at the moment, I'll inform him in a minute."

Right— right. They should make sure everyone's all right first. Nami finally releases Robin from her grip, a weak grin lacing her face. Even after everything that had happened, Robin was kind enough to try. They were all kind. So incredibly kind. She might just be okay after all.

What was she even crying about in the first place? It's not unusual to feel down about something as horrible as this, but in hindsight, she should have known that things would be okay. They're all so strong, so powerful. Seriously, she should have a little more faith in everyone.

In the meantime, it might be a promising idea to figure out what to do next. Should they carry on? Or maybe wait until the sun goes down and get some rest? It's not like today has gone all that smoothly, so it's logical to think rest might be wanted— or needed, even. Either way, Nami's fine with it. As long as everyone is okay. That's all that mattered.

God. Never a-fucking-gain. Please.

—

Sun down came quicker than expected. Sanji didn't mind. The faster he gets to sleep, the faster tomorrow comes, and the faster he can get the fuck out of here. But sleep doesn't come easy. He's on edge, leaving him to sit on some stupid rock near yet another campfire. Despite Chopper urging him to sleep, Sanji waved his concern aside, assuring the doctor he'd be fine. The wound had mostly closed up now anyway, even if a scar would be unavoidable. How odd. It was like he and Zoro matched.

The fucker just wouldn't leave his mind. Something about killing him made him happier than he'd like to admit. Or maybe he simply calls it happiness, not knowing what else to call the churning feeling that stirs in his stomach. Anxiety had been ruled out, he had a mission to complete is what.

He had no choice but to do what he had to now. Kill him and get all of this over with, then finally going home after too damn long.

"Still awake?" A voice cuts through the silence, one he recognizes instantly; Brook.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Having trouble sleeping is all." And it's no lie— he's getting good at this truthfulness thing.

"I see," the skeleton hums, taking his place next to Sanji. He wraps his arms around his boney legs, his face turned to the blonde.

"Anything you might want to share? Maybe on how you got that wound, perhaps?" He probes, and Sanji frowns a little. You've got to be kidding him. The last thing Sanji wanted was for more people to start getting nosey with him. So annoying.

"About?" He replies, his tone flat. He could use a cigarette about now. How unfortunate that a certain swordsman had to cut them all in half.

"I know it might be hard to admit, but it's better to just come clean instead of attempting to cause any more harm. We're here to help you, okay? There's no need to fear being judged, if that is what's holding you back from being honest."

Fuck! Sanji groans, a disgusting little grin etched on his face. So now he knew? What did he even know in the first place? Who else had their suspicions? Was it because of his previous behavior? No, no, that can’t be it. It's stupid how observant Brook is at times. Sanji remains silent, letting the skeleton take his sweet ass time to pry for answers. Not like Sanji would give him any— all he'd willingly give is more backlash if anything.

"Sanji," Brook hums, and the sound of his voice alone sends shivers up Sanji's spine. It's too nice, too honest, "both Robin and I know that you have ulterior motives. Please, just let us help you. We don't want you getting yourself in trouble if you don't have to. And if talking is the least I can do then I will."

Help him, pfft. Sanji could laugh about now. All this worry, all this concern, and for what? To still get betrayed in the end? He wonders how the hell he even made it this far before anyone other than the moss ever said anything about his 'odd' mannerisms.

"There's nothing going on. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well I do. I can spell it out for you or write you a poem about it."

Sanji rolls his eyes at the offer, waving his hand dismissively.

"Do what you want. Are we done now? I need time to think."

"About how you're trying to steal the island's heart? Oh, I know about it all right. Definitely something to think about indeed."

Sanji shoots up, a deep frown settling on his face. That was no bluff. Brook did know. But was that all? What about Nami? He glances at her, watching her sleeping form near the campfire, and Brook raises a non-existent eyebrow. That's when it clicks.

"Don't tell me her falling ill was your doing as well," Brook speaks through gritted teeth, teeth he did still have. Brook is a patient man. All the time he'd spent aimlessly wandering on his old ship for fifty years had taught him more than enough about it. But that didn't mean he would never get angry. Slowly, his boney hand travels to grab ahold of his sword, holding onto the hilt just in case.

This was deeper than he'd expected.

"Can you fucking not? I never did anything like that. Ever. You're putting words into my mouth here." And he knows he's lying— right back to the little bullshit spree he had going on. Just when he thought he had something good going on here, too!

"I don't trust it. I don't trust any of this. All I ask of you is to be truthful, please. Just this once. I want to help you. We all do."

Brook seems desperate. Concerned. Angry. And Sanji's had about enough. Gnawing at the inside of his cheek, he paces around himself, gripping at his hair in more than visible frustration.

He can't take it anymore. If everyone keeps prying and poking and staring at him like a circus animal, at one point he's bound to snap. And Sanji's had about enough. Fucking fine. Holding out until tomorrow could wait. The cat was out of the bag now anyway. What good will it do for him if he keeps hiding?

"You want the truth? Really? How about you go fuck yourself," Sanji spits out, "I should've never joined this shit show of a crew in the first place!" His frustration is on the verge of spilling, boiling over like hot water that had been set aflame, swimming in that same sea of flames and being consumed by his own pent-up rage.

Sanji's loud. Very loud. Sleep gets swept right away under quite literally everyone's feet, and now he's the center of attention. Again. Great.

"What's going on?" Luffy presses, rubbing at his eyes— sleep continues to claw at his mind, his sight somewhat foggy.

"I'm sorry," Zoro mutters, yet he doesn't elaborate. Had he even slept at all? Had he just been laying there with his eye closed? Sanji doesn't care— doesn't know why he even thinks about it in the first place. Why does he keep caring?

"Go die in a fucking ditch," Sanji yells. Every little sense or sound or move gets on his nerves, and he feels like he might explode within the minute.

"Let's not do that right now," Usopp steps in, an awkward laugh leaving him at the glare Sanji gives him.

Eyes. Too many eyes were on him, watching his every move from all sorts of angels and it angered him and pissed him off and he wanted if not needed it to stop right now before he bites someone's fucking head off and it's just too much and—

Sanji laughs. And something noticeable changes about him. Something that he knows he was supposed to have since the very beginning, ever since he was born.

His eyebrows were now facing the right direction. The same way that his sibling's were. And Zoro draws his sword upon noticing. Brook follows. And Robin, too, a multitude of hands holding onto Sanji's ankles to keep him in place as Luffy grabs onto the blonde's shoulders, almost shaking him to his senses.

"Calm down! What is happening!? Why are you..." Luffy looks Sanji up and down, noting how the blonde's expression turns slightly manic. Luffy doesn't like it one bit.

"Answers this, answers that, fuck, you're all so nosey! I seriously hate that about all of you. So concerned, so busy with one another— god, do you ever just do something because you don't give a shit about what anyone might think? Cause' that's exactly what I'm doing right now. Something better than looking for some stupid fucking flower. Die for all I care, it's not like I ever cared in the first place."

Ouch. That came....unexpectedly. Luffy's expression falls, his grip growing tighter. This wasn't real. This was some sort of hallucination, or maybe a bad dream. Luffy gets bad dreams. So this had to be one too.

"Nothing? No cursing? No shaking me silly? Okay then. How about this. Moss-fuck over there knew all along, he just decided to keep his filthy mouth shut because he's too much of a pussy to speak up! I poisoned Nami, I needed for the ship to stop here, I actually have a goal to complete instead of searching for some stupid nonexistent treasure! Now let me go before I crush your skull in!"

Sanji could see the shock and fear, he assumes, spreading across Nami's face. No one would have seen it coming, because why would they have? A cook, poisoning a meal? That didn't sound right at all. Nothing about this sounded anywhere near right. And after a couple seconds spent in silence, apart from Sanji's erratic breathing, Luffy does something.

Call it rough. Irrational. But it's something. And that's what matters, even if punching Sanji right across the face was, in fact, a bad idea. Blood leaks from a piece of his lip that got busted, and all Sanji does is grin.

"Quit it. This isn't you, Sanji, this is—.." Well. Yeah. Good fucking question. What was this? A joke? Surely a bad one at that anyway.

"I hate you so much. All of you. Especially you. Get the fuck out of my face."

"Stop it."

"Get the fuck away from me, captain."

"Stop."

"Are you deaf? Are you?!"

"Stop it!"

Luffy's voice booms, and Sanji can't help how he flinches. Bastard. So, like any sane person, he sets his leg aflame. The hands gripping his ankles are forced to let go, and Luffy is forced to jump back and Sanji is forced to run. Run as fast as his legs can possibly carry him. And like any sane person, Zoro is the first one to chase after the blonde. And like any other sane person, Luffy follows suit, as does Brook, as does Franky, as does Chopper— you get the point.

Not again. He won't let him get away with this. Won't let him off that easily.

Yelling won't do anything. It will only make things worse. Will make Sanji resent them all more than he already does, apparently. What a mess.

With Wado in hand, Zoro runs. Runs until he can taste blood in his mouth, until his vision dulls, until he feels snow crackle under his feet and his senses dulled by the sudden cold, one that he shoves to the side for the moment. Focusing on the temperature out of all things wasn't on his list of priorities at the moment.

Sanji can feel the sudden switch from sand to snow all too clearly, the air harsh on his lungs. He's close. So close. The artifact is within his reach, within the palm of his hands already— his own heart beats in sync with it, he thinks. But maybe it's just his imagination.

Running. That's all he can do. He can hear Franky's loud metal body clang as he moves, Usopp's worried cries for help, Luffy's unintelligible yells— it all blends to the background, a certain cave now coming into view.

There it is. After a decade. Finally, he can accomplish his mission.

A slash of metal crosses his back, forcing him down to the ground, a hand wrapping itself around his throat. Zoro again. Was he going to stop that yet? This was getting on his nerves.

A tear rolls down the man's face, landing on Sanji's cheek, the sensation alien and honestly? This felt....weird. Sanji's stomach specifically. He must feel so disgusted about him sobbing like a baby that he started to feel physically ill. That had to be it.

Zoro was crying. How pathetic. Sanji doesn't understand why he is. And he takes his fucking time taking the sight of him in. How a human can look this melancholic, Sanji didn't know. The once oh-so tough Roronoa Zoro, now a weeping mess, begging for his sweetheart, his lover, to come back to his senses.

Sanji doesn't think he realizes just how wrong he'd been all along.

A kick to the gut launches Zoro off him, the cold snow to his back sending a shock of pain up his spine. Sanji curses himself out under his breath, kicking himself up onto his feet. He needs to be more careful around the fucker. Bleeding out in the snow wasn't on his bucket list, especially not right now.

Zoro gets back onto his feet in no time. The snow was colder than he'd expected, the sensation burning and almost clawing at his skin. But he can't hesitate. Not right now. Not when he's so, so close to putting an end to this.

"Sanji!" He yells out, but the blonde doesn't slow down, instead heading for the cave up ahead.

No, no, no! This wasn't happening!

Zoro sprints, tackling Sanji the moment he can see him, locking a tight arm around the blonde's neck. He gurgles, a noise Zoro wasn't quite fond of.

The fire burns. The snow burns. Everything burns. The sensation hurts, more than he'd like to admit. Sanji was resilient, annoyingly so. Nails dig into his arms, his shoulders, his back, clawing and grasping at whatever's in reach to make it stop. Sanji curses under his breath, nearly biting into Zoro's forearm—

And then there's quietness. Zoro can't look down, unable to lay his eye on what he'd done. There's no way Sanji died just from getting chocked, but that didn't mean looking at his limp form was anything to be proud of.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, running a hand through the blonde's hair. It's just as soft as he remembers it to be. He wonders if he'll ever get back to his senses, go back to the way he used to be before this island. It's a dream and a wish he hopes will land on a shooting star somewhere.

The silence doesn't last long, rather, Sanji laughs, gripping Zoro's wrist and pulling at his arm as hard as he can— a snap echoes through the cavern, and Zoro whines out from the stinging pain. There his shoulder joint went. Zoro crawls back, pulling at his arm in an attempt to fix it, though it ends up to be futile, his shoulder growing limp.

"Please, Sanji just stop this," Zoro groans out, "I beg of you."

"Oh shut up. I hate you most of all, you know that?" Sanji steps closer, leaning over Zoro with a malicious grin. "Your stupid love and stupid dedication. There are simply not enough words for me to describe how much I fucking hate your existence. I hope you die a painful and useless death somewhere where no one will ever miss you. I surely won't."

Yet another punch to the gut, those words. Zoro can't do much with a dislocated arm, so he ends up merely sitting there, staring at Sanji, watching how he digs into the ground, how he pulls out a bone of sorts, how he finally seems satisfied— more than he's looked like for the last couple of days anyway.

He had lost. Zoro had lost the game Sanji played, and now he paid the painful price for it.

That same voice from before— Sanji guesses it to be Nika, because of course it was— booms harshly around them, an angry vibration beneath Sanji's feet forcing him to skywalk. He's not dealing with yet another fall. Pulling the same trick twice, who did the bastard think he was?

"I have warned you, yet you chose not to listen. Now you pay the price. Your days of restful sleep have come to meet their end. I will be there around every corner, watching. You have my word."

That's a bad omen if Sanji's ever heard one. Glaring at Zoro one last time, feeling something swirl in his chest at the sight of the poor fucker, he dashes back out into the snow, gripping the artifact as if his life depended on it.

He's done it. Home was waiting for him at the end of the road after all.

A pair of hands grab at his feet, pulling him down with unexpected force right at the moment he thinks he's finally done it, right when he thinks he could finally go back home, only to fall right back into the snow. Even now, Luffy won't quit, won't give up until he's got what he wants. Sanji doesn't often call people selfish, yet this man— ever since the beginning, he has been. Taking what he wants just because he can, causing chaos where order once ruled, even if that didn't always mean good for the people of that land. It's both admirable and so fucking aggravating.

Without thinking, Sanji raises the bone in hand, a bright, white beam of light shooting up into the sky, seemingly parting the clouds up above. Sanji's got no clue on how to use this thing, so he does what any other person would have done, aiming the light right at Luffy.

He doesn't know what happened to him. Why is he suddenly on the ground? Why is he bleeding out as if he'd just gotten crushed under the weight of seven planets combined? Chopper attempts to rush over, attempts to provide aid— Robin pulls him away just in time, the light only grazing her slightly, yet even that alone brought her to the ground.

"Don't come any closer!" Sanji yells out. It's hard to focus. Hard to breathe. Hard to keep himself afloat. It feels like something's pulling at his ribs and bending them outwards one by one, a  sudden and most unexpected pain in his chest growing worse by the second. The snow is all that is, all that he recognizes around him. Faded figures and silhouettes made out of jumbled groups of colors is all he can see, the white an overpowering force on his mind.

Something strikes his back—maybe it's snow. Maybe it's something else. Sanji can't be bothered to turn around, doesn't have the strength to— the need to keep afloat was greater than caring about his defense. Why would he care when he has such a powerful tool on him?

A multitude of vines wrap themselves around his body mere moments after. That must be Usopp's work.

Damnit. He can't keep this up anymore. Just calling this exhaustion would be the understatement of the year, his grip on the artifact tightening as he falls limp, his eyes closing the moment he feels his legs give out under him— all he can hear before passing out is a jumbled mess of screams and cries and yells, the sound echoing in his mind for one last time before his conscience inevitably fades to black.

Chapter Text

With a tired groan, Sanji opens his eyes. Dim light from the tiny window sitting closer to the ceiling than to him illuminated the room, casting warped shadows over the walls and floors.

Sanji hadn't a clue as to where he was, really, even if the floorboards seemed as ordinary as ever. This didn't look like any of his pantries anyway. None of them had bars like that of a prison cell, or chains scattered around the floor like this. Sanji attempts to move, a weak wail falling from his lips. His back ached like he'd been stabbed right at the base of his spine—which wasn't necessarily untrue either, yet that didn't mean he liked being in pain.

His hands were tied with heavy chains, though he could still move semi-freely. The heavy metal held him down, the ache he felt growing in his core only amplifying the more he shifts and twists.

This wasn't Germa. This wasn't home. Had he been brought back to the Sunny? Had he lost?

Sanji's lungs ache, a coughing fit ensuing mere seconds after. Bruised and beaten to a pulp, he had been returned to this hell of a ship, only to be humiliated for his 'dumb' attempt of escaping his 'fate', or whatever. He's more than certain that's the reality of the situation, no other options possible here. They would all ridicule him for it.

The artifact—  was it taken from him? Frantically he searches, tapping at his pockets, looking all over for it, only to be disappointed in the end.

Bunch of thieves— no matter how hypocritical it might sound.

"You're awake," Chopper's voice is startling, an unexpected noise to fill the void of silence he's been forced into. "How are you feeling? I can get you something to sooth your pain if it's too bad."

"I'm fine," Sanji hisses— why does it matter if he's in pain or not? Sanji was more than certain that basically everyone on this shithole of a ship would enjoy basking in his lament. "why do you even care."

"I'm a doctor. I care for people regardless of their actions. But if you say you're fine I'm not going to push you. Luffy!"

Oh, not again. Out of all people, Luffy was the last person he wanted to see right now. Even Zoro would be better, and that says a lot.

Heavy footsteps drum down the stairwell, and there he is, the man of the hour: captain Monkey D. Luffy. He wears an expression Sanji isn't quite able to grasp. Was this supposed to be concern?

Chopper dashes back up, and now they’re alone. A private, one on one conversation that Sanji isn't ready for with a man that he hates more than he does Zoro.

Fuck. Even now he just keeps plaguing his thoughts.

"Good fucking morning to you too." Sanji mutters, crossing his arms the best he can with the chains holding him back.

"Explain yourself. Now."

Demanding, are we? Sanji stays silent, glaring at Luffy with eyes like a snake, one that might jump if provoked too much. Bandages are wrapped around the man's limbs and chest, a vague memory resurfacing within Sanji's mind. Right. He'd done that, hadn't he? Aiming that bright light right at Luffy, somehow knocking him down instantaneously. He hopes it stung. He hopes it hurt— that it left irreversible scars on that puny rubber body of his. 

The conversation takes a little bit of a different turn, however, when Luffy shows Sanji the artifact. He has it— he's got it. It's not been broken or destroyed, thank fuck it's all right.

Caring more about some bone than for your own crew. That's certainly something.

"I will crush this thing right here, right now, unless you start talking. Are we clear?"

"Smart," Sanji hisses through a grin— he knows Luffy doesn't bluff. "Fine. What exactly do you want to know? It's not like I have much of a choice now."

"Why are you doing this? For what purpose? Is someone blackmailing you? Is it your stupid family again?"

Well, he's certainly right about that last part. Sanji rolls his eyes— the concern flies past him, it feels so unnecessary. Why worry for a man like him? Why care? It's just pesky and obnoxious if anything.

"Listen. I've never liked you. Ever since the Baratie, where you just so happened to cause more than just a mess, I already hated your guts with a burning passion. And keep my family out of your filthy mouth. I'm doing this for them, you hear me? Long story short, one thing led to another, and I wasn't able to accomplish my mission, ended up with the old geezer for a few years and now we're here. This was the only way for me to get to this island. Doing so by myself would be suicide. I used you, and whoopsie fucking daisy, I failed all the same."

It's the full truth. Now Luffy knows. And now, he has to decide; there's no way in hell that he'll let Sanji stay.

Luffy steps closer to the bars, sits down and looks at him with those eyes again, and even now, Sanji doesn't understand. What was up with him? Using his Haki like that. Because this had to be Haki, feeling meek just by being glared at. Anything else would be a death sentence.

"So you were never on our side? You never thought of us as your friends?" He asks, timidly, as if he's afraid of the answer Sanji might give.

"No. Never." It's straightforward enough, he hopes.

Luffy rubs at his face, gets up and turns his back to Sanji. Leaves without another word said. Leaves, with pain in his heart because maybe, maybe, this still could have all been a misunderstanding. But no. Sanji really is a bastard.

Watching the man head back up the stairs, Sanji sighs. So there's that he supposes. All he could do now was wait until the fucker had decided, and who knows how long that might take.

"It's no use," he mutters— everyone had gathered in the aquarium, the atmosphere more than just a little tense. At least Nami felt better now if that's anything to celebrate. Luffy sits down on the couch, the cushions for once not soothing the thoughts he carried with him. Usually, Luffy can come here to relax, to wind down after stressful times, though right now, not so much.

Usopp watches as Sanji falls down to the ground, faceplanting right into the snow. His plants ended up doing the trick after all. Blood seeps into the snow, turning the blinding white into a more noticeable crimson. How fucked up is it to have to do something like this to your friend? Seriously, it gives Usopp the heebie-jeebies.

Things go fast. Not smooth, just fast. Something's happening over there with Robin, he's got no idea just how bad of a state Luffy's in (and to be honest he's afraid to even ask if he's okay), and Sanji— well. He looks like he got struck by a lightning bolt. Nothing funny about it.

And now what? Usopp stands there. Staring. Waiting, He wasn't being told to go anywhere, wasn't being yelled at (in a friendly manner of course), wasn't getting chased around by something, he just stood there.

Something catches his eye— if all he does is look around, Usopp was bound to turn out a lucky bastard. There, almost invisible with the snow around its white pellets, stands the Hero's Tower, proud and mighty against the chilly air pushing and pulling at its stem. Since everyone else is busy, he might as well get a closer look, you know?

Nami bounces her leg impatiently. A plan was needed now more than ever. And for once, Luffy agreed. The cure Chopper managed to whip up did wonders, and not even an hour later she felt more alive than she's ever felt, and sadly enough also more anxious than she's ever thought she could feel.

"What did he even say? This can't be our Sanji, it just— it can't be. Maybe he got, like, switched or something?"

An unlikely hypothesis Nami hopes to carry a semblance of truth with.

"He said that he's never been on our side in the first place, something along the lines of a 'mission' he'd been sent to complete. I don't know. I just want him back."

Back to the Sunny— easier said than done. Franky carries both casualties in his metal arms, running ahead as fast and as far as he can, with Chopper clinging to his back. Fuck this, fuck staying there— Franky has the ability to get back within an hour. So that's what he'll do.

Dashing past all those familiar paths they initially took, he grits his teeth. Angry. That's what he was. Does it matter if it is or isn't righteous? If it is or isn't misplaced? No! Sanji did a fucked-up thing and now the rest has to deal with the consequences. Because of course they have to. This is the second damn time he's caused mayhem, although the first one is somewhat understandable. He did it for the rest of them. Sure. Cool. Thanks? Franky still has conflicted feeling about it all. But now?

Selfish bastard. Hurting people for sport, was that what this was?

"No shit, me too. But we have to think about what we can do rather than dwell on what's happening right now. So, come on people, think aloud. We need a plan." Nami takes charge— she doesn't mind it. It's obvious that Luffy's in distress, and with how he got hurt, she can't imagine he'll keep his head cool. And she would have let Zoro speak, since he apparently knew all along that something wasn't right— but the man was nowhere to be seen.

"Perhaps we could attempt an exorcism?" Brook suggests. If it's a joke, then the timing could not have been worse, but the skeleton seems as serious as can be. Nami notes the suggestion down either way, details would come later.

"I have an idea, how about we beat the living hell out of him until he calms down?" Franky hisses, "I think that sound more than reasonable."

It hurts. It hurts so much. Zoro feels like the world collapsed atop of him. Distant shouts and cries fade to the background, his own thoughts overshadowing the noise by a hot mile.

He failed. He's a failure. He always has been. Zoro's unsure why he keeps trying.

He cries. Pathetic, futile sobs that won't make anything stop.

He curses himself out. It's the least he deserves.

Having the knowledge to at least prevent things from escalating yet having kept his mouth shut— it makes him feel like dying. The one thing he had promised to do, the one promise he and Sanji ever had in the history of ever, and even that was too difficult of a task to complete. One single fucking promise, and it was too much.

Why he cries, he doesn't know. Just that this is all his own fault. How can Zoro not take the blame for this? How will anyone ever trust him now? They won't. They can't. They shouldn't.

Maybe it's best if he just shuts up. Speaking won't do any good. Will only bring people further into this....this mess he created, this mess he caused by being a crybaby behind everyone's back. Do it f or their sake, for their safety. That's all he's ever wanted for them all anyway.

"Violence won't bring an end to this. It will only further promote ideals we shouldn't be participating in if it truly isn't necessary. An eye for an eye and the world goes blind," Jinbei replies, Franky's hostile tone a stark contrast to his usual happy-go-lucky one. Although he understands the cyborg's concerns, and grasps his reasoning behind the idea, it won't fix Sanji, if not only aggravate him further.

"But it is necessary, the fucker's not going to understand any other language but violence."

"We don't know that yet."

"Oh, sure, let's just talk it out whilst dancing on rainbows and spinning around on a unicorn's back— like it'll do anything."

Jinbei groans. Franky's tone isn't something he really knows how to deal with. He's never been a fan, per se, of solving things solely with weapons or fists. And whilst at first glance, it seems like the only option left, he's sure that there just has to be another way.

"Can we just focus? Something without violence would be preferred, but if you really think it might help then I won't protest you any further."

"thank you," Franky groans out, his annoyance fading somewhat. It's far from preferred, but what choice does Jinbei have? Or anyone, really? They're in this mess now, attempting to get out of it was all they really could do.

All Robin can see is the white around her, the snow clouding her vision in ways that leave her near immobile. Moving hurts. Breathing hurts. Even thinking hurts— but at the very least, Chopper didn't have to suffer— she doubts he'd even still be awake if she hadn't intervened. He's strong, no doubt about that, but this was a lot. More than what she thinks he could have handled.

So she jumped. Caught Chopper just in time. Merely got grazed by the glow from above. Yet still, she feels beaten and bruised to the core.

She's unsure what happened when she passed out. All she noted on was Usopp firing something, Sanji yelling, Luffy not doing anything for a change— chaos all around. Blood got spilled when it didn't have had to happen.

And then she blacked out. Closed her eyes and let sleep take her, unable to protest how consciousness faded, growing limp with Chopper still in her arms. At the very least, she tried.

Zoro sits silently. The Crow's nest had always been his place to train, to focus, to get his mind off things and take a breath of fresh air.

He thinks. Too much, maybe. It makes him unsure. More so than he has ever been.

A newfound tightness coils in his gut. One of frustration. One of hate. One of sorrow.

It's evident Sanji's gone. The man he once knew, now out of sight for who knows how long it will last, though certainly not out of mind.

Zoro scratches the back of his neck. God, does he feel sore. Bruises cover him from head to toe, and even though Chopper was as kind as a saint to put his arm back in place after Sanji had quite literally pulled it too hard, he could feel the initial sting reminiscing and tingling under his skin.

He's gone now.

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe this was meant to happen from the very start. Maybe the stars just hated him.

That initial coil of regret turns into sadness, and perhaps anger, too. This wasn't Sanji, that much was clear. But then who was it exactly, sitting in that make-shift cell Franky built on a whim?

Had it been a devil-fruit user, perhaps? One that could control minds? Or maybe new and improved Germa tech that got installed into Sanji's brain when he willingly got kidnapped to return back home? It wouldn't surprise Zoro; the Grand line is full of shit he knows next to none about. Anything and everything was an option, and to be blunt, Zoro hated that. He wasn't island-smart or map-smart or boat-smart. He was sword-smart. Blades were his expertise. The rest, however? Not so much.

Greatest swordsman in the world. That title is all Zoro's after here. That's his end goal. If he had to put it aside for a moment to deal with something bigger, he would.

Angrily, he grits his teeth. Maybe if he beats the shit out of Sanji then he'd turn back to normal. Kind of hard to do with a dislocated arm— he really did miss the opportunity to do so back there. But now Sanji had been tied up, restraint from any sort of fighting or escaping or running back to his shit for bricks family.

Now, he was out in the open for Zoro. To put his hands around the man's neck. To squeeze his veins shut until he turns back to normal. To beat him senseless until he's okay again.

It's a last resort. The final option Zoro has in mind right before killing him. Promises are sacred to the man, and especially now will he not back down. He's waited long enough already.

Waltzing down to the deck, he passes the lounge, Nami's voice being the most noticeable out of the bunch. What had he even expected, of course she would be the first one to attempt to get a sense of stability back. Zoro can appreciate it, truly. Who knows how chaotic things would have been otherwise. Luffy can be.....full of energy at times.

The staircase seems to go on for ages, and only once Zoro sets foot on the last step does he dares to look up.

There he is: the man of the hour, tied up with an expression Zoro can't quite place, black hair now covering his other eye.

The color suits him well, even if the sight is something straight out of a nightmare.

"What," Sanji spits, a snarl tugging at his lips. Oh boy. Zoro sits in front of Sanji, legs crossed over the other with a gaze that never once leaves the blonde. Zoro studies the sight. Observes the change. Forces himself to accept that things went to shit. And that it's okay to feel upset about it.

"The new hair suits you," Zoro eventually mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh fuck off already. What the hell do you want from me? I'll bite your dick off if you dare to fucking touch me."

"Yeah. I know." Zoro sighs out, already enjoying the conversation to the absolute fucking fullest, "I want to talk. No, Luffy didn't ask me to pry, before you start to lose your shit thinking he might've. I just want to have a....peaceful little chat."

"Stick it up somewhere the sun don't shine. Why in Germa's name would I want to 'chat' with you? Fucking— you, out of all people?"

"Because you suddenly stabbed everyone in the back and now you're trying to brush it off as if it's nothing! As if you're a saint! Which you're fucking not, by the way."

Silence falls for a minute, though probably less. Zoro's voice echoed through the small room, and for a moment Sanji thought he could feel the ground vibrate.

"Okay." Sanji hums, that stupid smirk from before having been wiped clean off his face. "I don't give a shit about any of you. Not your ass, not Luffy, not Nami, all of that was an act. Sure, maybe back at the Baratie things were a little different....but I still had the very same goal in mind as I had when I left from home."

Different? Different how? Zoro frowns, but listens either way, his bullshit detectors ringing loudly in the back of his mind as Sanji continues.

"It's only now I could really do anything with it. And hooray, I fucked up. I bet Strawhat's gonna toss me into the sea with my hands and legs tied for it. Then the last person I would've spoken to from back home would be Niji, over the fucking phone. How ironic is that?"

As if it's something to be discussed over afternoon tea. That's how calm Sanji seems. That's how composed he attempts to come across as, even if it's more than clear Sanji's just as panicked as Zoro is.

Zoro rubs at his face. And he groans. Loudly. Things just never seem to go easy for any of them, do they?

The 'cell' doors get opened up, and Zoro steps in, looming dangerously over Sanji. From up close the feral look Sanji wears is more than noticeable. It sends shivers down Zoro's spine.

Without thinking, he kneels, wraps Sanji in his arms (whilst all the same ignoring the string of curses that gets flung at him) and kisses him. Just one last time is all he asks for. One final kiss before it all ends.

Sanji bites down on the first thing his teeth can reach— and hard. Hard enough for Zoro's lips to bleed, for it to feel like it might get ripped off if he doesn't back away, yet not hard enough for Zoro to stop. Bite his tongue off if you will, Zoro is more than happy to accept it. Gentle hands roam Sanji's back, holding him close to his chest.

Familiar. That's the word. The first time they kissed it was violent all the same, but perhaps intense would be a better description. Murderous intent wasn't quite present at the time.

Zoro doesn't want it to end. His grip tightens, and Sanji yelps, out of all things, squinting his eyes shut. He doesn't want this. Doesn't want to be touched. Doesn't want to be shown this....this awful kindness. Because in the end, that's what this was, no? Kindness mixed with love and all sorts of things he couldn't make out. Sanji hates it. If he can manage to puke in the fucker's mouth he'll be just as happy about it as if he were a child being gifted a new toy.

Sanji's mouth opens momentarily in an attempt to give a verbal protest, though Zoro sees it differently— he takes his chance, even with the threat of seriously injuring his tongue here and deepens the kiss. His breathing staggers for a moment, feeling like he might drown in a sea of his own tears if he lets go.

It's a mess. Sanji freezes, the sensation alien yet all the same so annoyingly familiar that he can't help it how he moves, how he relaxes in Zoro's arms. It's as if he knows something but simply can't remember it, the answer sitting on the tip of his tongue— though it sure as hell wasn't Zoro, fuck that.

It feels like the kiss drags on for centuries before Zoro finally backs up, his face flushed crimson, understandably so.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Sanji yells out, crawling rearward until his back hits the wall. Blood leaks down his nose— though he ignores it. Blames it on the anything-but-pristine condition he's in.

Zoro doesn't respond, merely wipes at his face to get the blood off. Chopper would certainly....be unhappy with that, to put it lightly.

"Hey! Someone get this fucking lunatic away from me!" Sanji yells out, kicking at the wall on his left in an attempt to catch someone's attention— it didn't matter who, as long as Zoro wasn't near him anymore. Damn creep.

"I think I'm ruined," Zoro sighs, covering his still bleeding mouth with his hand. And for a good few seconds, he just stands there, unmoving, his gaze relentless as the first tears of the evening roll down his face. Zoro doesn't bother to wipe them away, the mixture of salty tears and vibrant blood a sight for sore eyes.

"I don't know what to do anymore. You asked me to kill you and here I am. Unable to get the job done. Initially I came here for exactly that, but I just—" Zoro takes a sharp breath, a futile attempt to get his shit together, "I can't do it. I love you. So much. Please. I miss you."

"I don't care I don't fucking care just get the fuck away from me! Hey! Dumbasses!" Sanji yells, his kicks relentless against the poor Sunny.

"Why do you hate me so? What have I ever done to you?"

"Shut up! Shut up shut up before I actually kill you!"

"I don't mind. I'll still love you."

Sanji stands up, the chain around his wrists preventing him from attacking, much to Sanji's annoyance.

"I'm going to bite your head off and dismember you and feed you to the sharks! I hate you so much!"

"I love you."

"You— get out! Get at least ten fucking feet away from me before I actually lose my shit!"

"Cut it out!"

Nami's voice pierces through their useless arguing, and Zoro merely looks at her, his silence telling her more than she needs to know. Nami drags Zoro off, her grip on his arm relentless and tight, Sanji's cursing fading to the background as Nami retreats with Zoro, far, far away from the blonde and right back to the lounge, her anger palpable.

Zoro says not a word. Doesn't even bother uttering an apology. Just sits there and lets himself get lectured for his irresponsible behavior and how he could have seriously injured himself just now. As if he hasn't been hurting from the very start— but she wouldn't know. None of them did, with Brook as the exception.

"Earth to Zoro, hello," Nami waves her hand in front of the man's eye, and he merely blinks, humming in response.

"I don't know what's going on here, but you have to tell us! And don't act like you're in the dark, we know that— ugh, well, we know you know something. Sanji said so. I don't want to believe him but it's not like I have much of a choice here." Nami crosses her arms, a look of something more than plain annoyance settling on her face.

"I love him," he eventually whispers. It's not what any of them want to hear. Zoro knows that it won't fix anything. But it'll, very hopefully, explain his behavior without having to go on a three-hour rant about how they fucked on the kitchen counter more times than he can count...or something along those lines.

Zoro gets stared at from every angle, he notices— no surprise there.

"When we were still in Wano, Sanji had asked me to kill him if he started to act up. At the time I didn't know why. Maybe he wanted to seem cool, or something like it. Hell if I knew. And then he started acting weird. The moment we even as much as set foot on that island, he— I don't know. With Brook's kidnapping and all, he didn't even want to fight. Told me it wasn't his battle to participate in. And I confronted him already. Told him to cut it out. Even caught him contacting his fucking family, which is when things started to go downhill even worse than they already had and I got fucking scared and I don't want him to die even if I promised it and now we're all in this mess and I'm sorry."

Zoro buries his face in his hands. Takes a deep, deep breath and attempts to focus. It's more than likely he's said too much. But what other choice did he have? If he had made the conscience decision to remain silent, then who's side exactly is he on?

"I'm sorry," he mumbles again, a hand grabbing onto his shoulder.

"You could have told us. You should have, really. It's....well, we'll find a way out. We always do, don't we?"

Luffy. Fucking Luffy. A saint sent from the stars. Zoro wraps his arms around the man, holding him so, so tight— of course he's right. Of course they'd find a way out. Zoro hopes, if not prays that he'll remain correct.

"Yeah," he sobs. He can worry later. He can think about the details later. Right now he cries, finally being able to let all that built up frustration out.

"I knew too," Brook admits, "and although I had been asked to remain silent, which I did, I kept my eyes open just in case. If I had any, that is," he grins, a somewhat successful attempt to lighten the mood a little. Nami rubs at her face, sighs, and nods.

"Who else knew?" She asks, her voice stern.

"I had my suspicions but have never directly been told anything other than Nika egging us on to keep an eye on Sanji. Me and Brook met him when we got split up in the ravine."

"Of course," Nami sighs. "right. No, it's okay. Fuck this makes things a lot harder."

"What, the fact that he had never been on our side or the fact that things were being hidden behind people's backs here?" Franky interrupts, his metal arms crossed over the other. It was clear enough he did not look happy in the slightest, but Zoro paid it no mind. Didn't have the heart to even as much as look up at the man.

"Please, can we just calm down? The truth is out now, better late than never I suppose," Nami huffs, "and so what? It's not the first time something similar has happened."

"Yeah, bro, I know that. But this is different. Sanji has never been on our side to begin with. Robin and Usopp have. Heck, we all started out somewhere else before we ended up with Luffy. Which is fine, don't get me wrong about that. But the audacity that that fucker has to just waltz around whilst having put up a show for who knows how long pisses me off more than you'd like to know."

"Actually," Zoro mutters, taking a careful step away from Luffy as he wipes at his face with the back of his hand, staining it a light shade of red, "I don't think that's completely true. When we talked just now, he said something along the lines of that he's never been on our side, with the Baratie being an exception. He said it was different. Don't ask me different how because I wouldn't know so even if you beat me silly."

"So we might still have a chance, is that what you're saying?" Usopp jumps in, fingers crossed in anticipation.

"Maybe. I don't know if he will willingly attempt to change if we urge him to, but I think there might still be a chance."

"You know," Franky hisses, his tone anything but happy, "this would have been real nice to know a little earlier on. Then a genuine plan could have been formed, but no, of course you had to just go and do whatever this was. And I have the right to be pissed! We're supposed to be a family for fuck's sake, is this how you treat your loved ones? Hiding crap like this from them?"

"I'm sorry—"

"I know but that won't fix anything—"

"I'm really sorry—"

"Dude. Stop. We get it. You didn't mean to cause harm. You're not a bad guy but I have the right to be angry. I need some fresh air." Franky gets up, walks out, and slams the door behind him, marching to the railing of the Sunny. Sitting in a tight room like that with nine people wasn't good for his psyche (even if the room wasn't tight at all, just the atmosphere), especially with countless problems piling up on one another.

"I'll go after him. Don't wait for me," Robin urges, a gentle smile sitting on her face as she walks after the cyborg.

The air is chilly, a stark contrast to how it felt when they first came here. The Sunny remained docked near the island, patiently waiting for a suitable time to leave— whenever that might be.

A gentle hand gets placed on Franky's back, stroking it as Robin takes her place next to the man. They sit in silence for a bit, something Robin can certainly enjoy at times. The atmosphere feels tense, almost as if she can sense Franky's anger from a few feet away.

"Why are you angry, exactly?" Robin queries, earning a gruff noise from Franky, his gaze intensely focused on the island and the sea, she presumes.

"Because that's not how you treat your family. I just don't get it. I guess that's what's making me pissed. Like, dude, out of all the things you could have done, you go ahead and keep something as big as this to yourself? What are you, some kinda psychic? Like I could've known what he wanted."

"I understand. Being left in the dark is certainly no fun."

"No the hell it's not," Franky huffs, "makes me sick to my stomach."

"You do really care for them, don't you?" Robin asks, a cheeky smirk tugging at her lips. With his head held low, Franky sighs. It's not as if she's wrong, it's just— a lot. Franky is inviolable when it comes to family. It's not as if he has had the premium, unbothered and untouched experience of a royal household himself. Barely anything during his childhood had a calm undertone, to put it lightly. It makes him feel like any valuable connection he does make has to be protected at all costs, and if others don't reciprocate, then he'll just get angry, because what else can he do? He's never really been taught how to deal with things normally.

"Yeah. I do. And I worry myself sick every time something goes south. Same goes for you, too."

"Likewise," Robin says. What a sweetheart, worrying like that. She moves in closer, placing a gentle kiss on Franky's cheek. "I understand why you might be angry but please just take it a little easier. I know it'll be easier said than done, but still. I'm sure Zoro meant nothing immoral by it." 

"I know that. I just can't fathom how else I would react is all." He rubs at his face, Robin's hand cupping the side of it.

"Hey. Whatever happens, we're in this together, with the lot of us. We'll stick together. We always will. And I promise you, just as I have many times before, I'll always be there with you. I will always love you. Okay? Forever and ever."

"God, you're too damn sweet. 'Bout to give me cavities here," Franky chuckles, pressing his forehead to hers, the gesture affectionate in its own way. Robin smiles, leaning in closer. Their lips meet, whatever distance between them now gone as Franky returns the kiss, a metal hand wrapping around Robin's waist— it's sweet. It's nice. It's something to take his mind off the chaos of the past two days, running back and forth between the ship and island and all.

Though, it doesn't last long, not even longer than half a damn minute.

The side of the ship bursts open, that same bright light making its dreaded appearance once more. Sanji's gotten out of his constraints somehow. Fuck!

Luffy jumps out after him, using Fifth Gear, out of all things. There's no way he'd actually hurt Sanji though. Injure him, fuck, probably. But hurt him in ways that prevent him from walking, for example? That's not something Franky could imagine happening. Like, ever.

"How in the...." The cyborg mutters under his breath, pushing his curiosity to the side for now and dragging Robin back inside the cabin. No way was he risking her getting hurt like that again. That man was a danger to everything around him.

"I swear to everything that you cherish I won't hesitate to fuck you over again!" Sanji yells out, his grip on the artifact more relaxed this time, though his presence just as terrifying. Instead of that off-balance sky walking from before, this seems a lot calmer, a lot more composed than before. It's worrying.

"I don't want to hurt you," Luffy starts, his voice loud, louder than Franky remembers it to be. Watching from a damn hole in the kitchen side of the Sunny wasn't ideal, but at least it was...safe? Sort of. As long as no one else went out then they'd be fine. Then Luffy would not have to take anyone else's safety into account, all his focus being directed to beating the living shit out of Sanji.

"But if you continue on with this....whatever this is, you don't leave me any choice. Please. Can't we just figure this out together? I won't be angry at you if that's what you're worried about."

Sanji remains quiet for a moment. The bone in hand gets lowered somewhat, his expression turning more wicked rather than angry. Like he's unsure why Luffy keeps pushing. Like he's thinking thinks that he shouldn’t be.

"I'm not worried about you getting angry. Please, if anything, get pissed with me. Be angry. Hurt me. I mean, come now, it's not as if I'll hold back. Why should you?"

"Because I care for you. That's why."

"Then stop caring."

Luffy grits his teeth— bastard. What was he even supposed to do with that? Just listen? Accept this shit for bricks proposal and give up? Not in a million years will that ever happen. Luffy balls his fist, rolling his shoulder back and aiming a comically fast punch towards Sanji's direction. Kaido wasn't able to dodge it, though that might just be because of his size. Either way, there's no way he'll miss.

Luffy is barely able to evade when Sanji attempts to kick at his back, somehow standing opposite of where he one was.

Damn. This was going to be harder than Luffy had hoped it to be.

"If you don't fight in full, you'll die. I won't hesitate to end you if I have to," Sanji exclaims.

"I don't care. If there's any chance you'll return back to normal then I won't stop until you're okay again."

"Oh, wow, look at you, such a knight in shining armor. Seriously, get it together."

Another kick— this time more easily avoided, though not without bumping into the Sunny. Luffy jumps back up into the sky in an attempt to lead Sanji away from the rest, his breathing tense, and his stomach coiling. Sanji follows, luckily enough.

"Don't fucking run you coward!" He screams, the artifact getting raised up into the air. No, not this again— Luffy moves at the speed of light, it feels like, wrapping his arms around Sanji again and again and again, squeezing his torso tight. Falling into the water wouldn't be an issue, he could simply elevate some of the land up above the current water level.

Still, that doesn't stop the damn bone from glowing. That doesn't stop them from falling. And it surely doesn't seem to be stopping the light that threatens to emerge from the damn thing again. Luffy squeezes, tighter than he initially dared to— he's sure he heard one of Sanji's ribs snap. Or maybe two. Either way the man groans in pain, kicking the both of them up once more. The sky just feels so much more stable, with the amount of space they have to fight and leaving for little to no hide outs.

"Let— go!" Sanji grunts, elbowing Luffy in his face, his kicks relentless as they launch higher and higher into the air. It's starting to get hard to keep up, but giving up now means losing more than just a friend. It meant putting the entire world at risk. Luffy hates himself for not realizing sooner, for not noticing that things very much weren't right. He's supposed to be captain, he's supposed to be the pillar his friends can lean on in times of need, and look where they were now.

"Not unless you quit this stupid act of yours! Sanji! Please, if you're in there, answer! Hey!"

Sanji closes his eyes, kicking faster and faster— Luffy can't keep up, reaching out for the Sunny instead and holding onto it as if his life depended on it (which it technically did, too, but that aside).

"Stop it! Just let me go! I don't need you!" Sanji screams out, his anger palpable. Yet even with those harsh words, Luffy can sense that some part inside of the man really doesn't want this, that some part inside of him would rather sit with the lot of them and drink some green tea whilst spilling hot gossip about things that everyone probably already knew. Luffy doesn't dare let go, holding Sanji back with every ounce of strength that he had. When had Sanji become so strong?

"Please! We can talk! I promise not to hurt you if you just come down to the ship with me okay!? Then we can fix things! Then you don't have to suffer alone!"

And for some dumb magical ass reason, because that's apparently always how these types of things go, Luffy his words seem to hold a semblance of meaning to Sanji. Else he would not have stopped kicking as hard as he had. So Zoro was right after all, huh?

"Will you just— stop touching me?" Sanji asks, almost timidly, a disgusted yet pleading look etched on his face.

"If you come down to the Sunny with me. Then no one will touch you, promise." Well— he can't necessarily swear on his life that no one will accidentally bump into him, but it's at least far better than nothing. And after a bit of silence, Sanji nods, pocketing the artifact (both to Luffy's annoyance and relief).

And he walks right back to the Sunny's deck. Stands there as if had done thing wrong. Stares at the island like it's his home.

Maybe it really was some outside influence.

"Thank you," Luffy hums, Fifth Gear now slowly disappearing, his white hair coiling back down to its natural mat black color. Sanji doesn't say anything, just stands there like a deer in headlights.

And of course Zoro's the first one to take a look at what's going on, followed by Usopp and Chopper, both hiding behind each other just in case something does go downhill.

It's such a strange sight. Seeing Sanji like this, as if he hadn't just tried, and threatened mind you, to kill Luffy. So serene, so....pretty, even if he's covered in blood from head to toe. Ah, well. It's not like Zoro has a distaste for it per se. But that didn't matter here— what was important, was Sanji's behavior. If he even dares to act up Zoro thinks he might just end it on the spot after all that happened.

Wow...! Pretty intense feelings over something as simple as a damn crush, huh? Then booze it would be after all. He's good at that, drinking his feelings away. It feels miles and miles less pathetic compared to crying.

"Can I just say something?" Sanji asks after bathing in that silence for more than just a little while. Luffy nods, not wanting to put any pressure on the blonde if he doesn't have to. He steps closer, unsure what's to come.

And damnit. Sanji must have known Luffy would be in the dark about his motives with what he says next.

"Why are you all so fucking stupid?  Seriously, keep your friends close and your enemies closer and all that bullshit."

It's a simple enough sentence. One Luffy doesn't need to think much about to understand the meaning behind it. A frown forms on his face— but it's too late.

The artifact Sanji had pocketed, because of course we can't forget about it now, gets pressed right into Luffy's stomach.

As if fireworks were lighting up the horizon, an array of colors paint the sky in all sorts of hues.

And at the snap of a finger, he's gone. And Luffy is, too.

This would turn out to be a long, long fucking night.

Chapter Text

Unable to protest, and quite frankly not willing to either, Sanji slumps down against the wall, watching as Nami drags Zoro back up the stairs. Finally, that took longer than it should have.

Sanji glares at the still opened cell door, patiently waiting until he was sure he was alone. Had that....been on purpose? Had Zoro planned for this to happen so he could escape? With his deluded views, hey, who knows what the guy might be thinking.

But no— even if Sanji would like to imagine it, that simply can't be true. Zoro is too much of a dumbass for that, the evidence to support his claim bleeding from his nose. So then it must have been an accident.

Sanji's sure as fuck not complaining.

He pulls at the chains, hoping they'd jump right from the walls and offer a semblance of security in his escape. Luffy remains relentless in his wants, won't let him off that easily without a fight.

The wood splinters and cracks, and Sanji rolls onto his back from the sudden lack of restraints. Sorry, Franky. Sanji wastes no time, dashing out of that stupid little makeshift cell— seriously he could have just kicked it open even if that would have ruined any chance of stealthily escaping— and moves forward to the kitchen.

The artifact. He can't leave without it. And if he knows Luffy, then there's a chance he might have hidden it here. It's either that or he needs to get close enough to the man to be able to pickpocket it back.

Digging through cabinets, all he finds is kitchenware. Pots and pans and ladles and knives and towels and more of the same.

Sanji checks the fridge— nothing to be seen here either.

"You're definitely something," Nika's voice cuts through the silence, and Sanji almost jumps up a foot into the air.

"Don't fucking creep up on me like that."

"Let it be. Your friends want to help you. Just give up."

"Get the fuck out of my head." Sanji hisses, slamming the fridge door shut.

The voice echoes through the room, yet all the same it feels so close by. Sanji blames it on a nonexistent headache he's sure is about to ensue.

Sanji searches more, searches further, whatever Nika is trying to convince him of being ignored and shoved to the side. So what if an ancient god, very technically speaking, is attempting to stop him from causing any more 'harm'? So what if Sanji refuses to listen? Like it'll matter in the long run.

Eventually— fuck that took too long why was it hidden under a god damn table that made zero fucking sense— Sanji does find the artifact. And just like last time, he feels faint.

Almost pleading, he asks for help— something he's sure his brothers would laugh at him for.

"And how am I supposed to...use this thing?"

"Use your imagination."

Well that's certainly a clear instruction. Totally not odd or out of pocket or anything. Is that supposed to be taken literally or what?

Either way Sanji nods. Decides taking a risk wasn't going to be the end of the world and jumps right through the wall on his side, keeping himself afloat as Luffy chases after him.

"Now look how the turns tabled," Sanji hums, mostly to himself. Germa had always been somewhat of a colder climate, something Sanji quite enjoyed when he was still younger. It had been too long since he's last been home, and to be honest— homesickness really gets to you at a certain point, even if Sanji would not want to admit to it.

Sanji remains unsure on how long exactly he's been sky walking for already. A couple hours? A day, perhaps? With another man hanging from his shoulder, his trip was bound to stretch.

This had been easier than Sanji imagined. One two three and boom— gone in the blink of an eye. No ship had chased after them yet either, but perhaps Sanji's wrong. He could very well be. Hell— there's a more than expected chance that stupidly humongous ship was sailing right behind them at this very moment.

Either way, now he's got Monkey D. Luffy and Nika's damn heart in his possession— that's not nothing. In fact, it's better than nothing, a thousand times better. With Strawhat they could— they could...

A public execution. Place the fucker on a platform and stream it to the entire world. Show the World Government not to mess with the kingdom of Germa, where the Vinsmokes ruled supreme. Sooner or later they'd be bigger than any nation in the world, Sanji's sure of it.

And what impeccable fucking timing. Near the horizon, grey buildings rise tall up into the sky, standing proudly on the ground his father had raised. It's almost enough to bring a tear to Sanji's eye, metaphorically anyway.

The grass is somewhat dead, he notices, as Sanji sets foot onto his home after over a decade. But what had he expected, the grass had always had this odd, deceased look to it. Even when his mother was still alive, it—...

It had always looked dead.

Sanji shakes his head. Sora had been long gone even before he was sent out. No need to reminisce on ancient memories like that.

With a newfound pride in his heart, Sanji kicks open the door, a bunch of guards suddenly pointing their weapons towards him— though Sanji ignores the threat, casually striding through the hallway. It had been redecorated, he notices, a multitude of extra paintings were strung onto the walls as well as a new carpet adorning the floor.

"Where's Father?" Sanji asks one of the guards that stood near the entrance to the living room, the pack of wardens behind him only inching closer.

"Sorry? What business could you possibly have with—"

A firm hand wraps itself around the guard's neck, squeezing tightly, as Sanji lifts the man off the floor as if he only weighed a feather.

"I asked you something. If you can't help me out here then I might just have to discard you."

The guard's eyes widened, though he nodded, his feet slowly connecting with the ground once more as he gets lowered down. The other guards whispered, something Sanji kindly ignored. It would be quite rude of him to beat up a bunch of guards on his first day back.

"Never mind it," Sanji sighs out. If he can remember correctly, Ichiji's room was close by. If he wasn't sparring or training, he should be in his study. From there it should not be hard to get Father's attention.

The door to the living room creaked, just like it always had, though now even worse than before. Seems like no one bothered with it. That's fine. Sanji wouldn't have bothered either.

"You're kidding me," Niji said, not quite having noticed Sanji standing there yet. He was hunched over on a table with Yonji, trying to solve some sort of crossword puzzle. Sanji remembers Yonji liking them but never being quite good at them all the same— seems like that hasn't changed.

"No, dude, I'm telling you that it's supposed to spell 'gardening', look—" Yonji counters, pointing at the paper and sounding the letters out loud, as if that were to somehow help solve it.

"You still like crossword puzzles?" Sanji queries, dropping Luffy's body to the side. He looked like a mess and a half— definitely not clean, anyway. Both he and Luffy did.

Yonji blinked. And he blinked again, pointed at Sanji, and stammered to get his words out. It's that Niji already sort-of knew what Sanji was trying, though it surely came as a surprise to see him this soon.

"You're back," Yonji states bluntly.

"Yeah. Missed you guys too."

Yonji dashes from his seat and almost tackles Sanji to the ground with how tightly he holds him, a knuckled-up fist ruffling up his already tangled hair.

"You missed out on quite a lot," Niji adds, his tone stern. It hadn’t even been ten whole minutes yet and here he was, about to receive what Sanji guesses to be bad news. Or maybe just normal news. Fuck if he knew.

"Either way I'm glad you're back," Yonji interrupts, letting go of Sanji and patting his own clothes down in an attempt to remove some dried-up blood that stuck to his clothes, "so, what happened to you?"

"Long story short, I fought the bastard," Sanji kicks at Luffy's side however gently he considers himself to be, "and I won. Thought I might as well bring him back with me. Ended up finding the artifact Father was after too. I need a fuckin' bath though."

"Yeah, no kidding," Yonji snickered, a wicked grin etching on his face. Seeing Strawhat, out of all people, beaten to a bloody pulp like this wasn't an everyday sight. The man was an emperor, and Sanji had managed to beat him up good somehow. Seriously, if that's not at least a little scary, Yonji wouldn’t know what is. "I'll get someone to lock him up. I'm glad you're home."

"Yeah. Me too."

It's funny, really. The feeling of being back 'home'.

Home. His home. His real family. Now within the same more-than-four walls of this house.

This house was his true home. Sanji's unsure why Luffy thought he ever had a chance to convince him otherwise.

Whatever. What-the-fuck ever. It's irrelevant now.

Waltzing up the always creaking stairs, Sanji runs his hand over the brick walls. The texture is alien, something that he had forgotten after being away for so long. All the walls feel the same, even looked the same, spare for a couple rooms anyway. That same grey covered the manacles over and over, an underwhelming sight he'd now have to get used to once more.

His room hadn't changed. Perhaps his bed had been made. His shelves dusted off. His clothes rearranged and ironed. Pictures and books removed or replaced. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Sanji dropped his bloodied pants and boxers on the floor, kicking them to a corner to forget about for now. Some servant would come to pick it up for him later anyway. Why even bother?

The artifact gets taken with him to the showers. The bathroom is humongous— bigger than he can remember it to be anyway, but maybe that's just him. That same, boring grey clung to the walls like a lifeline, the only contrast being the white lamp that had been set to too bright of a shade for Sanji's liking.

Water runs down his skin, momentarily cold before turning comfortable. Blood and grime runs down his body into the drain, creating a little whirlpool of sorts.

Zoro. This is all his fault. He's the reason Sanji's as beaten as he is. He's the reason that Sanji now has a multitude of new scars on his body, one that crosses over his chest in full, as is the case for his back. He's no pincushion, damnit.

The tiles are cold on Sanji's skin. It's something to take his mind off todays....'events', he guesses.

Never would he have to deal with those bastards again. Ever. Took him long enough as it were.

Just as always, the water gets turned off after a short while, maybe five minutes tops, leaving him soaking wet but at the very least cleaner than before.

Clean of grime and dirt. Clean of dust and filth, remaining filthy in his sins.

Sanji knows what he's done would come across as controversial, at the very least. But it's not like he could be bothered to give a damn.

It's not like he could be bothered at all, rather. God was he tired. So fucking tired.

Sanji slumps out of the bathroom, the artifact now sitting neatly on his nightstand, pulls the door to his closet open with a near immediate look of surprise etching on his face when he gets met with an entire walk-in dresser. Right. He'd forgotten about that.

Just a simple shirt would do, no need to go ahead and sleep in a god damn suit out of all things. He's done so plenty of times already, like hell was he ever doing that again.

Black, white, black, white— and so on and so forth. There were a few colored shirts that were neatly folded on top of one another, but that was about it really. Seems like that hadn't changed either.

The bed had been made with the softest of silk Sanji could have ever dreamt of. It's nice. Comfortable. Something completely different than sleeping in a hammock or straight up on the ground, just to name a few things.

A nice, soft shirt and a clean damn bed. When was the last time he truly had this kind of thing? Sanji's sure he has never thought he would ever miss something as simple as this.

Sleep. That's all he wants right now. Sanji closes his eyes, hiding under the silky covers that coated his mattress. He twists and turns, a deep, unsettling uneasiness settling deep into his mind after who knows how long. Perhaps he thought he felt tired, like that's what he was supposed to feel, his body not allowing for him to rest because of that very reason.

He must be overthinking. Overthinking and worrying over the bunch of insignificant insects he's left behind.

Like bugs crawling under his skin, Sanji feels some itch settling into his bones. It starts off calmly. Very calm, even. Like if a feather were to get dragged back and forth and back and forth only to get stabbed right after.

It hurts. There's nothing to hurt him, not within the walls of his own room, for fuck's sake. Yet he's still fucking hurting and it's deep and sharp and nearly unbearable and even with nails digging deep into the skin of his legs and arms and stomach the itch isn't leaving and it hurts.

"I told you so." Nika's voice is faint, yet close. Distant yet he can feel the man's breath on his neck. There's no way the fucker's here with him.

"God fucking—" Sanji hisses, throwing the blankets off him and sitting up straight. The air feels tight in his lungs. He could use a cigarette right about now.

"Sir," An unfamiliar voice— Sanji guesses it to be one of the many, many servants— calls from the distance, their knocks on the rigid wood of his bedroom door echoing around the room, "your father wishes to speak with you."

—

An incredible display of colors lights up the sky, blinding whoever might attempt to look at it. It's bright. It's pretty. It's disgusting. What a bastard.

So far for trying to trust Sanji. Mistake made, won't happen again. Probably. Zoro's not the type to really learn from his mistakes when it comes to stuff like this, however. He'll see just how things go down. Hopefully, it won't cost him another eye. Or their captain's life, for that matter.

"They're gone," Franky yells, "they're fucking gone!"

"Oh dear." Brook sighs out with lungs he doesn't have. Wonderful way to start off one's evening, that's for sure.

"Everyone, get ready, we're going after them!" Nami announces, not leaving any room for argument as she heads for the helm. With great haste, the Sunny's anchor reels back in, sails get spread out, and a chase ensues.

This is totally normal. Chasing after an ex-crewmate— or something like it, Nami seriously has no idea what title to give to Sanji now other than 'Mayor of asshole town'— who basically kidnapped your captain on a fresh, late autumn afternoon.

Because everyone has to experience betrayal like this once in their lives. Totally normal occurrence. Mhm.

"Someone keep an eye on the transponder snails, who knows what might happen," Franky instructs whoever might be listening. Usopp nods, heading down the stairs alongside Franky for who knows what.

Chaos all around. Chaos and a lot of anger that he had caused. If only Zoro had just been honest from the start, things could have taken a different turn.

This is his fault. No doubt about it now.

Zoro guesses he'll just keep his eye open for whatever he might find. Why Luffy, it could have easily been him— would have been a lot less bad if that had been the case anyway.

Now's the question on how to get Luffy back. If, for instance, he really had been taken to Germa then— well. A heist would be in order to get him back. It's not like they were going up against Big Mom and Germa combined this time, so maybe it'll be easier, emphasis on maybe.

If not Germa, then it'll only be a matter of time before the World Government tries to stick their noses into business they have no part in. Then headline after headline will spill out about 'Monkey D. Luffy taken hostage by crewmate,', 'Strawhat pirates splitting up', and so on and so forth. That'll be more annoying than anything really.

Zoro softly gnaws at the inside of his cheek. It tastes metallic. No shit, his lip had gotten bitten on until he started to bleed— he wouldn't be surprised if he was still bleeding now. Oh well.

Germa. All the way in the North-fucking-Blue. Zoro's sure they can come back with less trouble this time, seeing as Nami has the route they took noted down on countless maps, yet still— the North Blue wasn't around the damn corner. They'd have to travel all the way back and around and about through places Zoro's sure he's already forgotten about—

Or. Yeah. They can fly. That works too. It's a lot quicker, that's for sure.

The Sunny rises up from the water— Franky must be taking a jab at the controls then if he can call it that. Smart. Zoro wouldn't be able to do it.

And then, as if it were nothing, the Sunny starts to speed up its pace by a whole fucking lot, not even touching the water anymore as it moves.

Zoro holds onto the railing tightly, the air blowing against his face in ways that make it feel like his skin is about to fall off. Very pleasant in-fucking-deed.

How long it'll end up taking, Zoro doesn't know. Has a hunch that, perhaps, it'll only take an hour at most. Which meant he would have to be holding onto the railing for an hour, enduring the harsh wind against his skin for an hour— and whilst it could have been worse, that doesn't mean he enjoys the sensation.

The violet sky from the island fades, turning into a darker shade of blue. How long had they spent ashore? How much time had they wasted on that island? Well— it's not exactly been a total waste of time, seeing as Nami felt better now, which was their main goal anyway. Stupid Sanji and his stupid thoughts and his stupid words and his stupid family.

Zoro was prepared to fight. Anybody but Sanji, that is. He doesn't think he'd be able to face the man, as pathetic as he knows that sounds.

And there he went, feeling just as he had back at Zou. In denial. Angry. Sad. Frustrated that, no matter what he did, it always ended up bad. Just. Bad. And he can't even do anything about it other than mope.

At the time, Zoro had convinced himself that Sanji leaving was for the betterment of the crew. At the time, he had told himself that it was fine. That he didn't care. That he had never cared, pushing all those times that he felt his heart in his throat because Sanji was on the brink of fucking death to the side. Because at the time, they didn't matter, didn't make the situation any easier to bear.

At the time it just. Sucked. And now it did too.

Suffering through a little gust of wind like this was fine. Because this time, it was different. Different how, exactly, Zoro doesn't know. It just.....it just is.

—

What had Nika really expected from a bastard like Sanji? To listen to his pleas? To oblige and follow along with his wishes? What a joke. The guy was more stubborn than a brick wall. Nika could very well be talking to himself at this point.

It was jarring. To see how the man acted in front of his so-called family compared to the crew he had fled from.

Luffy's body made a soft thud noise as he was dropped to the ground, the carpet softening the blow somewhat, though Nika can't imagine it being comfortable.

Just as the green haired man had said, after Sanji left the two men be, a couple guards were commanded— not even asked or instructed, no, plainly yelled at— to lock Luffy up in cell number....something with a six in it.

Nika followed Sanji up the stairs, taken aback by all the luxury surrounding him in just this single room. Wow. No kidding he wanted to come back, even if it were only for the leisurely environment.

Nika waited patiently. He has always been the patient type. Spending, assumingly, hundreds of years simply waiting had taught him more than anyone would ever want to know about simply. Lingering.

It was torture. A kind of wrath he would not wish upon anyone.

But perhaps, Sanji might be able to learn something from feeling such agony, although Nika doubts it will change much in the current moment.

At the very last, Nika can disturb Sanji in ways he won't be able to comprehend. Hurt him without needing to touch the man's skin. Despite the comfort that the bed surely provided, Nika watches, silently, how he twists and turns and scratches at his skin until it tears and observes the stress he goes through and all he does is watch and he keeps watching until a knock appears at the door but he doesn't stop just yet and he continues to make it feel like there's an itch deep within the crevasse of his skin settled neatly in his bones and—...

What a load of bullshit.

Nika follows, his curiosity peaked. It's not like he can go back, else he'd truly die. And to pass right now, that wasn't quite desirable just yet.

—

"Alright, hold on everybody, either get inside or buckle up, I'm going to launch us forward, this is taking too long," Franky announces through the intercom. The sound would echo on most occasions, but with speeds such as these, that would be nearly impossible. Zoro grips the railing tight, both arms wrapped around the wood. Something about going back inside just did not sit right with him. Made it feel awkward, in a way. No shit, with everything that's already happened it'll only take one wrong word for yet another round of more than tense silence to ensue. And Zoro wasn't in the mood to deal with that.

Or maybe he's overthinking. Maybe it's not that fucking deep. He wouldn't know.

The Sunny made an expected although abrupt move, blasting through the open sky as if it were floating. And for a moment, it did feel like gravity was no longer a factor— Zoro's stomach flipped, but not like how it had whenever words of desperation poured out of his mouth. It didn't even feel like he was falling. It just felt warm. Comfortable.

And fuck. Not five minutes later, although Zoro could be very wrong about how long it took, the Sunny lands back in all familiar water. The ocean pushes back as the Sunny lands, drenching Zoro all the same.

Somewhere on the horizon, even if it only looks like a mere dot at the moment, stood the kingdom of Germa. Grey and dark and dull as ever.

"And now what?" Usopp asks, coming out of the main cabin, followed by whoever came next. Nami shrugs, having gotten a whole lot less drenched in comparison to Zoro.

"We need a plan if we want to infiltrate. I'd say we lay low for the time being, and figure out who will do what," Robin suggests, leaning against the door post— Usopp nearly jumped out of his skin at her sudden appearance, clearing his throat soon after and acting like that simply hadn't happened.

Sanji would have made some snarky but well intended comment about it.

"I agree. We can't just storm in blindly. Perhaps, it would be smart if we stayed patient 'till sunrise. Then we attack at dawn." Brook follows up. Brook and Robin really did make a good pair when it came to putting their brains together, even if Brook did not have one.

Sanji would have probably snarled and spit out some jealous comment about how it felt unfair that Brook got to be so buddy-buddy with Robin.

"Sounds like a plan. So, let's assume that they'll just keep Luffy in some cell. Shouldn't be too much of an issue to break the bars open. I'd say me and Usopp head to free him and the rests proves to be a distraction for whatever guards that get sent after our asses. How's that sound?" Franky grins, clasping his hands together. Smart. Franky is always smart. A little harsh and straight forward sometimes but that's nothing negative per se.

Sanji would have—... done something. Said something. Made someone laugh.

"I'm fine with it. So Franky and Usopp head over to free Luffy, check. Then I say me, Brook, Robin and Jimbei take the guards head on, go ahead and cause a distraction here and there, and then Chopper and Zoro act to cover us. I'd say have Chopper go down with Franky and Usopp, who knows in what state Luffy will be in. Is everyone okay with that?" Nami asks, her thought process more than clear.

Zoro can't say he minds, but all the same— well. Never mind. It doesn't matter what he does or doesn't want.

Was this how heartbreak felt like? Desperation clawing at your heart in ways it feels like you might just puke?

"I don't have any objections," Jimbei hums. Everyone else seems fine with it as well. Guess they had a plan then. Cool.

"Then we wait until tomorrow to attack. Let's just— rest up for the time being. We’ll need it." Nami rubs at her face and retreats back inside. Now it was to play the waiting game.

Zoro would be acting as cover. He could do that. He's done so a plethora of times before already. The issue laid more in whom they'd be fighting rather than how. They needed to get Luffy back, that was everyone's main focus at the moment. Which was only fair, seeing what Sanji had said and done. Still, it didn't make any of this easier to process.

Grief has always been something more alien to Zoro. He's never stopped to think and mourn the ones he had lost. Merely bottled it all up for a later occasion. It's something he doesn't realize he does. It was the same for Zou, the same for Sabaody, for Thriller Bark, for Water Seven and Kuina too for fuck's sake.

The past cannot be changed. So to stop and reminisce in old feelings and buried emotions has always seemed kind of useless to Zoro. If others wanted to do it, then he would not interfere. It's just not for him.

Seems like he now understands why people do mourn.

—

It sure had been a while since Sanji had last seen his father. Too long, he'd say. The servant walks with him, silently guiding Sanji back to the living room. It wasn't as if Sanji did not know where the room was, although it would sure be seen as 'impolite' if Sanji would suddenly be left to fetch for himself like that.

It seemed like everyone was waiting for him. How nice of them. The servant girl rushes off to somewhere, leaving it to be just the five of them. Sanji crosses his arms, watching his father move about with an expectant look in his eyes.

"It's good having you back, son," Judge starts, smiling with a teethy little grin, "you better not be pulling that same trick as you had a couple months ago."

It's said sarcastically, that much is obvious— the wedding was the last time he's seen the lot of them anyway, no shit Judge would mention it. Sanji doesn't see it that way, however, doesn't take the comment lightly for whatever reason. Gazes down at his feet and merely nods at the statement. For a moment he staggers, thinks it might not be the right timing to mention how he's got the artifact here with him, sitting neatly in his pocket— and all the same, he doesn't really want to either.

Sanji is more than certain that this is his ego talking. Telling him to keep the thing with him just in case something happens. That this is perhaps some sort of power trip he knows he's indulging in more than he should.

But, come now. Unless it's asked about, Sanji wouldn't mention it. Let him indulge a little further— why not?

"Right," Judge hums, placing a hand on Sanji's shoulder, "I'm proud of you either way. Well done. Taking Strawhat with you, too, that's not nothing. And because of precisely that, your brothers had the genius idea of hosting a live execution. You'll get to claim the honor of killing that 'captain' of yours."

And there it was— exactly what Sanji had thought Judge would say. He grins, softly, as if Luffy was just 'some guy' and not— well. Not Luffy, The infamous pirate that everyone on all the four seas and the Grand line was after, now sitting a floor or two beneath their feet.

Sanji would have the honor of killing the fucker.

Perhaps he could kick his face in. Make his neck snap and his head roll into the ocean. Sanji could dig into the man's chest cavity and rip an organ or two out. He could pluck at Luffy his eyes and pick at his brain through the emptied-out sockets. There were some other ideas he'd have to work on but— in all honesty.

Sanji simply felt glad he was the one to get to do it.

Chapter Text

To strike at dawn.

Fires about the size of a giant burn away the wet grass, courtesy of Franky, heavy clouds of smoke moving about in clusters through the morning sky. Dark, wet weather is what covers the land of Germa at this hour of day; what a horrible time to kill.

Zoro hopes he doesn't have to. Perhaps he prays. He really might at this point.

"Get moving!" Nami yells, busting through the large metal doors that serve as an entrance to the fortress Luffy resided in. One could almost call this fortress a castle with its size and towers peaking higher than mountains can reach.

The Sunny anchored about a couple hundred feet away from the island, far enough to be out of sight yet still noticeable if one really, really tried. One by one, during the earlier hours of the morning, everyone had slowly but surely managed to get to the island unnoticed. From there it remained as simple as can be— light something on fire to cause a little extra chaos and get going.

The hallway is empty, save for a few wardens that don't really pay any attention to the group— up until Brook draws his sword, that is. The guards turn to face the group— there's maybe, what, seven of them stationed all across the hallway? But they don't attack. They don't do anything other than stand there and watch, carefully and silently.

Peculiar and weird as shit.

"Okay. Cool. Let's just ignore them, I guess. Unless they get in our way," Franky mutters, just as confused as anyone would be in a situation like this.

"Hey uh Franky I don't mean to doubt you but this could be a trap," Usopp jumps in. It's nothing new for the sniper to want to avoid conflict, but he might have a point. Shit.

A trap was more than likely to have been set. It's not careless to think Sanji had told his father or mother or whomever was in charge here that the lot of them might come after Luffy. So yeah, maybe this was a trap! That the guards did not a single damn thing because this was the wrong island and they'd get blown to bits! Or. Something.

"I suggest we split up. If they won't stop us then we might as well take this opportunity to move about, even if it's a trap. We'll be okay. I'm sure." Robin smiles. Like nothing can go wrong. Like things are fine and that they always will be.

Zoro really wants to believe her. That tomorrow things will be right back to the way they're supposed to be, minus the cook that is.

"I'll call if I manage to find Luffy. I suggest we all do, actually," Franky replies, picking Usopp up as if he weighed a feather and running off, his metal feet clanging loudly against the iron flooring beneath them. But again, even with the noise he makes, no one does anything. No one stops Franky from rummaging around and doing what he does best.

Zoro can't do this alone. He knows he'll struggle. That he will want to stay if things go a certain way because this is where Sanji is. That he'll want to stay because it's just so much easier.

God. What the fuck is wrong with him?

The surroundings blend together. There's grey and black and red and they swirl into one big blob of color Zoro can't make a shape of. But he'll do what's been asked of him. Make a distraction so that they can find Luffy.

But then why was everything so god damn quiet? And empty? And hollow and avoid of life it was so fucking grey and boring holy shit. Zoro has no idea how people live in these kinds of conditions. If this was even the real island anyway because fuck if he knows what is and isn't real.

Zoro walks. He just walks. Scans the area and decides to head up the stairs that sit near the wall, seeing as they looked....fine. Nothing explosive anyway, though damn do the steps creak a lot whenever Zoro puts his weight down.

One, two, three, four....a lot of rooms that sit connected to the hallway he strolls through. None that Zoro wants to bother with but what does it matter in the end? He might as well cause a little chaos at the very least. A servant girl passes him, her head turned down and her gaze pointed at her feet.

Zoro feels sorry for her.

Entering one of the more centric rooms, he frowns. It's bright here. Light shines through the window, even though it's been cloaked by grey blinds. No matter. Zoro walks through the room, moves down onto the bed and just sits there. If there's no one to fight he won't bother.

He's tired. Unsure if that exhaustion is even justified. Sanji has shoved him to the side, betrayed him, betrayed his family for fuck's sake— and despite all of that, Zoro still can't bear the feeling of losing Sanji. Hell, he's already lost the man. There's just something in his brain that won't accept that. He's not sure if he appreciates it or not but either way it makes him think more than he wants to.

Sanji this, Sanji that. Seriously, it might be better if he does die, just so he won't have to think about the blonde anymore. Then he can forget that anything ever happened and then he can finally get a good night's sleep.

Zoro rubs at his face— that's easier said than done. Killing Sanji. He sure as fuck can't do it.

Damnit. Damnit! if Zoro had just said something when he still had the balls to then they wouldn't even be here right now. But blaming himself won't fix anything, as Franky had said. The man's right. Words won't do anything except make things ten times fucking worse. Just saying he'll manage would be the understatement of the year.

A loud static noise screeches from outside the window. And then someone taps at what Zoro guesses to be a megaphone. How big was this place for that to go unnoticed?

"Good morning, dear viewers!" A deep, gruff voice begins, one that Zoro does not recognize. He walks over to the window and pulls back the blinds, revealing a garden of sorts—

This was Gold Roger all over again. Luffy sat restrained to a platform up high that kept ascending, the metal chains that pulled it up clanging loudly, like those elevators Celestial dragons use. Sanji stood tall and proud next to the man, a girl with pink hair and a similar eyebrow accompanying him, with another taller and broader blonde man yelling out towards a transponder snail setup attached to the podium.

Zoro recognized the equipment, although faintly. Some sales man on Sabaody tried to sell him a camera kit at some point. These were similar, but in no way the same.

So they were livestreaming....something. Zoro knows damn well what it's supposed to be but saying it out loud or even as much as thinking the words that sit at the tip of his tongue might just sent him into a full-blown panic attack. Luffy, executed, bleh. Those are words that should never be put together in a sentence, like, ever.

Zoro rushes out the room, down the stairs into some other room where he only finds more guards that stare at him like he's some rabid animal. What the fuck was up with that? He scowls and keeps on running. And he keeps running more. And then he's fucking lost because of course he had to get lost at a time such as this. Brilliant. A-fucking-mazing.

Bursting through a wall would do then. Fucking fine. This was not the time to get lost.

The concrete crackles like the walls were made out of sand, the guards that stand outside now finally drawing their weaponry. Finally, a fight. Zoro had been itching for one. Those wardens inside were creeping him out.

Sanji glares at Zoro for a second. Maybe longer. But he says nothing, doesn't even acknowledge him.

"Hey!" Zoro yells out, his voice strained and cracking. Sanji ignores him.

"You— I'm going to—" Zoro pauses. He can threaten Sanji all he wants, but he knows it'll all be useless in the end, that whatever he says won't come true because he's a coward. So he stays quiet. Waits for Sanji to do or say something, staring at him with an eye that begs and pleads for something more than this tough exterior.

"You're genuinely pissing me off," Sanji mumbles, "so fucking bad. What, huh? Are you going to hurt me? Kill me? Like you have the balls to. Get out of here before I rip Luffy's heart out through his throat."

"Zoro, bro! There you are!" Franky yells, busting a second hole through the wall for dramatic effect, mostly, "nice job dude, we found em'!"

"Can you, maybe, not fucking bust through any more walls?" Sanji yells back.

"Shaddup, wasn't talkin' to you, snot nose. I'll break as many walls as I like!"

The taller blonde has to restrain Sanji from jumping up and going for Franky's throat.

—

And so, the broadcast begins. Only static is noticeable at first, but after a good few seconds, that white noise fades, connecting to any transponder that might be able to pick up the incredible signal Germa has sent out.....

"Good morning, dear viewers!" The sound echoes through the Polar Tang's living room. No one had turned on the radio as far as Shachi knows, so this was a little odd to say the least. He grabs the transponder and shakes it a little, only for more static to screech from its speakers.

"Great, radio's jammed!" Shachi groans, sinking deeper into the couch. He might as well listen to pass the time, see if this station is any different than those game shows he usually listens to.

"I am Vinsmoke Judge, ruler of Germa. And I am here with a great announcement that will surely be nothing short of revolutionary."

Shachi cocked his brow. Germa? Wasn't that some kingdom in a comic that Law reads? Oh, shit, this must be some auditory rendition of it then.

"In my possession is Monkey D. Luffy, though many of you might know him as Strawhat."

Yelling and screaming could be heard in the background. Shouts of anger, desperation and hatred came through the transponder just clearly enough to make out that some sort of battle was happening. That wasn't comic related at all, Shachi realizes.

—

"Excuse me?" Ivankov mutters, "that can't be right."

"It better not be," Sabo says. He sticks close to the transponder, whatever speech this 'Judge' was giving sounding violent as could be. It's not like Sabo was doing much to begin with before the transponder turned on all by itself like that, on such a lovely day as this one Sabo liked to read more than anything. But this was certainly of more importance than some novel.

"Currently, he is tied to a platform, just like Gold Roger was. That man kicked off the era of pirating, and now, Strawhat will be executed, unable to carry on that will of D so many people like to talk about."

—

"Wait, ain't that the kid that Sanji tagged along with?" Patty asks, concerned. Zeff would like to say no. Would rather just imagine that this Strawhat was a different Strawhat. Anything but the boy getting hurt. He was a good kid, even if his stomach knew no limitations.

"I will give credit where credit is due, however. Ten years ago, my son, Sanji Vinsmoke, disappeared out of Germa's light. And now he has returned, greater than ever, with both a man and a tool in his possession that will surely change the world for the betterment of the Germa Kingdom."

Zeff's eyes widened. He white knuckle-gripped the counter— that can't be right. That just can't be fucking right.

—

"For the people unable to watch the spectacle unfold, fret not. This audio will certainly not be turned off until Strawhat breathes his final breath. Coming live, from Germa!"

The static returns, softer this time, a noise Garp would have liked to never have disappeared in the first place.

Luffy. Luffy was being held hostage. Luffy was being executed. Killed right on the stop and the fucker decided to broadcast it.

What has the world come to?

Garp rises from his seat, takes his coat, and clears his throat.

"Coby! You're coming with me. We've got business."

—

The broadcast returns to a soft white noise, the battle that ensues near the ground remaining more than audible despite the static.....

Sanji taps his foot, impatient.

He wants to kill. Put an end to all of this bullshit and kill and kill and kill until it's quiet again. All of this had better not have been for naught. Luffy must die. He must kill him. Strangle him to death and rip his organs out and open his skull up and pull his brain apart and make him suffer.

Suffer hard. Writhe in pain. If Luffy could do that he would be more than pleased.

"Are you anxious?" Rejiu asks, her brows furrowed. She was always concerned about everyone. Sanji could admire that about her. Wouldn't be able to muster up the energy to keep on being as kind as she just naturally is, somehow. Perhaps she just got lucky. Or not. Sanji wouldn’t know.

"No. Just impatient." Sanji grits his teeth— the smell of blood is strong. Brook slices and Robin twists necks and Chopper bashes shit and Usopp busts shit up and Franky blows shit up and Jinbei slams shit and Nami was quite literally raining her wrath down on whatever clone dared to get close to her and Zoro—

Pfft. Sanji doesn't care about him. Doesn't want to look at the man. Thinks he might just kill him first if he does.

"It's okay," Luffy coughs. Blood drips from his mouth and nose and whatever wound he had covering his rubber skin. Whatever drugs got pumped into his veins sure did a fucking number on him.

"I'm not mad. If you wanne talk, hey, I'll listen."

"Shut it." Sanji kicks lightly at Luffy's side. It’s for sure not hard enough to take him out completely. Kicking down a man that was already on the ground just didn't feel right.

Feel, yeah. Like Sanji ever had.

—

"Don't you think that Akainu might question where you are? Aren't you concerned your absence will be noted?" Coby queries— although taking a trip in a submarine was surely nothing short of amazing with the aquatic life surrounding them, he can't help but worry about what might come next. Garp laughs. It's not a happy laugh.

"Like I care! If he wants to keep me on house arrest or something, then that's a problem for future me."

And it's no lie. Though, Garp wouldn't listen either way.

Executing Luffy— fucking hell. This is exactly why he did not want him to aspire becoming a pirate in the first place. He'll drag Luffy into the submarine, scold him and try to change his mind, knowing damn well that won't happen unless pigs start flying.

Garp misses Ace. Knows he fucked up big time by never intervening. It still eats at his heart even after over two years. He can't let something like that happen again.

Either way, Germa was starting to become a pain. Sending war ships to battle against random islands full of civilians only to end up causing pain and horror without attempting to secure a victory of any kind. Just for the sake of destruction. They needed to be dealt with eventually. And what better timing to do so than now? It’s like killing two birds with one stone.

—

The battlefield turns hazy. And loud. And bloody. And all kinds of things that manage to give Zoro the biggest migraine in existence. He draws his sword and cuts and slashes his way through the seemingly unending stream of soldiers rushing from all sorts of angles. Left, right— Zoro wants to say that they're coming from the sky and the ground too but luckily, that isn't the case. Wouldn't be surprised if it were, though.

"Watch it!" Nami yells out, her Climatact landing a blow on one of the soldiers carrying a gun— and not any gun either. It's large, coated with that same red and grey one could find just about anywhere on this stupid island— and it's. It's a gun. That in itself is more than just an issue.

It's not like guns are unstoppable. They are. It just takes more effort. It takes more stamina. It just takes. More.

And who knows just what these might fire.

The soldier Nami had hit collapses to the ground, a gust of wind acting as a barrier for her to use as she runs.

"There's too many of them!" She shouts, her frown only deepening.

"No kidding! This isn't what we came here for!" Usopp yells back, a Green Pop flinging into a small crowd, the attack trapping a couple soldiers into a corner.

This was exactly why plans don't work. Exactly the reason why plans get discarded of ten minutes after they're made. Because Luffy takes the lead and somehow manages to make things work, however magical or out of pocket his solutions might be at times.

This is why they need him. This is why Luffy can't die. Not just because he's family— but because, despite it all, he's an anchor. A beacon of hope to hold on to when things go to shit.

Nami wonders what he might be thinking.

—

"I don't need whatever it is you're trying. Stop it." Sanji mutters. As the battle rages on, and the platform ascends as much as it can, Luffy keeps talking. He keeps talking about how it's okay to feel frustrated. About how it's okay to feel things one doesn't know how to handle. About how it is okay to feel.

Sanji doesn’t feel. He merely knows how to respond to other people's emotions. Not. His own.

Precisely because he's never had any feelings of his own. And he never will.

Even back at the Baratie he never had them. Never felt a damn for the old geezer. Never cared for anyone in that stupid restaurant. Never cared for anyone but his actual fucking family. And no one seems to get that.

So then why does he keep thinking about it. About how things could have gone if he never returned. About how he could have kept living this façade of a life with the rest of Luffy's stupid little crew on that gigantic ship that was too big for just the ten of them.

It's none of his business anymore. He's home now. Home, safe, and right where he's supposed to fucking be.

Luffy doesn't respond. He sighs, keeps his head down and throws an occasional glance towards the battlefield.

Too much blood. Too much of it spilled on the already dying grass, staining that odd green with a coat of crimson.

Sanji grits his teeth. It's stupid how he notices his chest feels tight. But not like how it does when he smokes. More like when he first managed to get Zeff to teach him how to cook. Perhaps it's excitement. Perhaps it's frustration. He doesn't know.

"I think it would be a good idea if one of our brothers jumped in to help. I don't presume replacing that many clones will be a fun task." Rejiu advises. Sanji rolls his eyes— that felt stupid, too. To keep his brothers in the shadows. Whatever— if that is what his father wanted then so be it.

—

The more time passes, the less clones attempt to rush them. Which is good. Maybe Germa only had so many to dispose of. Advancing whilst getting rushed from quite literally every angle imaginable wasn't really giving any of them space to move about. But they sure as fuck got close.

"I'm starting to think this won't do much good. Any volunteers who are willing to let me throw em' towards the platform?" Franky announces. Zoro sure as hell can't offer himself as an option. Knows damn well Franky would rather pick Robin or Brook or Chopper or anyone other than him.

And he's fine with that. With not being picked.

"I don't think so!" A sudden, unfamiliar voice yells out. A man with blue hair and that same fucking eyebrow Sanji carries with him kicks right at Franky's chest, lightning blue sparks bouncing from the man's boots. Franky manages to catch himself just in time, stumbling back all the same whilst grabbing at the man's foot and swinging him up into the air as high as he can. He lands with his butt on the ground, unharmed for the most part.

"It's that I'm made out of metal so that wasn't too bad but what the fuck," Franky huffs out, clutching his chest.

"Are you alright?" Chopper asks in a hurry, changing from his heavy-point into brain-point, a soldier that was on the verge of attacking him flinging himself over the doctor instead and faceplanting as a result.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine. Just watch it, that guy's dangerous," Franky says, his agitation more than clear.

Stupid family. Stupid eyebrows. Stupid fucking artifact that seemed to be tens of thousands of times more important than. Than them.

The blue haired man then— does. Does something. Something fast and it hurts like a motherfucker. A painful and stinging and everything but pleasant shock of electricity shoots up Zoro's spine right from his lower back. A kick. That's what it was.

He hits the ground.

The grass smells of blood.

The odor makes his head spin.

And all of a sudden. He smells something other than blood.

His own skin. He smells his own skin fry.

His back. Once unscarred, now lathered in strikes he can't even see. All from one singular kick.

Zoro doesn't want to be here anymore. Finally gasps out and screams out a soul wrenching cry for something other than this hell he feels trapped in.

Maybe. He should just die.

—

Passing the Thousand Sunny, Garp decides to bring the submarine up to surface level. One perk of having access to high class traveling gears was the speed at which one could go from point A to point B. Quite convenient if you were to ask him.

The island of Germa is now closer by. The cries of battle can be heard on both the transponder snail that had not been turned off just yet, and in the far-off distance. Though in real life, the noise was nothing short of unmerciful— certainly nothing like the broadcast was letting through.

But Luffy was alive. That's what mattered here.

"There we go," Garp mutters, dropping the submarine's anchor down and lending a helping hand to get Coby onto land as well.

"Let me just get this straight. We are here mainly because of Germa," Coby reiterates, "but oh-so coincidentally Luffy's being held captive here. That's what you're planning on telling Akainu?"

"You got it. It sounds believable to me anyway," Garp laughs. Again, not a happy laugh. Rather a weak attempt at keeping the situation lighthearted despite the circumstances.

Coby merely nods. The gravity of the situation isn't something Garp wants to think about, especially not now he was actually here. About to act so out of line it could cost him more than just his position as vice admiral. But it was for the greater good, he told himself.

A loud, almost too noticeable scream echoes from inside the castle walls. But it's not Luffy's.

Was it selfish to focus on only Luffy? Perhaps it was. And perhaps, Garp didn't give a damn about whomever else was currently attempting to— well. Do the same as him. Save Luffy.

And per-fucking-haps he did care. Merely convinced himself that he didn't because technically speaking, he's not supposed to. Either way, the pair marches on forth towards the battle field, moving about with a relentless pace. Time was stretching thin. Even if Garp wanted to, there was none to waste.

—

Sanji's eyes widen— almost as if he's surprised that Niji actually went for it. But come now. The guy was a monster on the battle field for as long as he had known his brother— which also wasn't all that long very technically speaking but that's not the point here.

Zoro looks pathetic. Meak. Helpless. Sanji loves the sight a little too much.

"He got what was coming for him," Sanji snarks, nudging Rejiu's side. She doesn't respond, just nods to let Sanji know she did hear him.

The platform then comes to a halt. The air tasted dull with how high up it was. A fall from here would be nothing short of fatal.

"It was nice," Luffy begins, "having you with us for as long as it lasted. So, thanks for that."

"You are about to be executed. I am literally about to end your life. Why say something like that? It won’t change my mind." Sanji mutters.

"Because it's true. I enjoyed having you around. Pretty sure the rest did, too."

Dumbass. How Luffy still can't see it was all an act, Sanji doesn't know. There's a good chance he's just delusional. That the drugs got to his head and messed with his memories, or something along those lines. It's not like he cares.

Sanji can clearly remember how Luffy's screams echoed through the chamber where he was held captive. How he struggled against any and all guards and nearly bit one of them. How his wailing quieted down an hour after the medication in his system started to do what it did best.

There's a good chance that's what's causing Luffy to speak so lovingly about him. What other option is there?

"WAIT!" A hoarse and broken and god did it sound sad voice calls out.

Sanji glares— Zoro again. Would he ever learn to let things go the way they're inevitably supposed to?

"If you'll hear me out," Zoro croaks, slowly rising back to his feet, "I have a proposition for you."

"I don't like where that's going, cut the crap," Nami interrupts, her focus remaining on the blue haired man floating a couple feet from her.

"Take my life instead of Luffy's. He doesn't deserve this."

"And you do?!" Chopper yells back.

Fuck. Seems like Luffy wasn’t the only delusional moron here. For a moment, Sanji takes the offer into consideration. Thinks about how this could go. Perhaps he could kill both him and Luffy— that would surely be fun. But what if that doesn't happen? What if this is a trap, and Zoro wasn't as idiotic as Sanji had taken him for? Then he has blood on his hands from someone whom he can't stand. It feels off.

Either way, it would serve everyone greatly, having the fucker out of sight and out of mind. Sanji especially. But this wasn't the time for a double execution, even if having his corpse on display in a glass chamber seemed fun to brag about.

"Impatient. That's what you are. If you want to die so badly then how about you do it yourself?!" Sanji spits back. Might as well dig his heel into the sand now and make it worse. For them, not him of course.

"Pretty ballsy coming from someone like you," Zoro yells, his breathing erratic. All surroundings seem like they’re swallowing him into a black hole. One that immobilizes him and renders him useless as Sanji laughs at the offer.

That's where things go to shit. Sanji snaps. His laughing quiets down, a threatening fist raised above his head. Ballsy, puh— who does that fucker think he is?!

—

An end to an era. One that neither the marines, nor any pirate could have stopped. There, up on the platform, stood four people. Vinsmoke Judge in all his glory and pride, Vinsmoke Rejiu, the eldest of the bloodline, Vinsmoke Sanji, the soldier that returned back home after traveling the Grand line and discovering all its wonders and terrors, and a corpse, once named Monkey D. Luffy.

The static that had played coyly in the background fades completely. The recording became clear as day. And it was worse than anyone could have ever expected.

Screams. Cries. Rubble falling. More screams. Cussing. Tears. More tears. Tears that wouldn't stop falling.

Luffy. Now dead. Killed by the hands of a former crew mate.

And even with two marines arriving at the scene in an attempt to intervene, they were too late.

Death reeked from all angles. Too much blood, spilled on dead grass.

And all Zoro could do was stare. Even as he was dragged back, a tight hand gripping the man's arm pulling him along against his will. Even as two marines where did they even come from holy shit began to resume the fight that had initially quieted down, if only for a moment. He just kept staring.

Two— no, three men with bright hair colors were now attacking the pair of marines. They were outnumbered. They were going to die. But Zoro didn't care about that.

Why did they have to run? Was it because if Luffy had died, they might too? Was it because the sight of their captain's corpse was too much to handle? Was it because there was no other option anymore?

Zoro doesn't know. He just stares. That's all he can do anyway.

Luffy was now dead. Dead because of him. Dead because he could not shut and open his mouth when he was supposed to. And now he was supposed to just— live with that? Live with the knowledge that he was the reason Luffy had fucking died?

He better die, too. If not as a sorry, then let it be because he deserves it.

First Sanji, now Luffy. Today could not go any worse.

The broadcast ends after a hot minute. Judge cuts the signal off without a word, knowing that the newspapers will be filled to the brim with all kinds of reports about both Strawhat's passing and the horrific battle that had taken place. He knows a new era will begin— one of power, one of tyranny and one of control. Germa would be an unstoppable force that no one would ever dare to mess with. Not even the marines.

Then, what would be next? Killing another emperor, perhaps? It might be a little farfetched seeing as Luffy just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, but still. The idea is there. Although having ended the lives of two marines alongside the death of Strawhat surely would be nothing short of convenient news-wise.

Sanji descends the platform, jumping off with what little grace he still had left for today, leaving the ongoing battle to his brothers.

Right through Luffy's chest. Sanji had pulled out his heart and ripped out his spine simultaneously. Even if the man was made of rubber, he wasn't invincible.

He can clearly recall the horror on everyone's faces when it happened. Nami couldn't stand the sight, looking off to the side the moment she could see blood. Jimbei looked traumatized. And sad. So incredibly sad. Usopp looked as if he had just seen a ghost, understandably so. Brook’s jaw had dropped, yet not a vowel was uttered. He could go on and on about it but—

Zoro just stared. And he kept staring. Like he was jealous that Luffy was dead and he was not.

What a wierdo. Sanji shakes the thought, retreating back into the castle, ignoring the futile screams of death in the background to the best of his abilities.

—

Zeff runs a panicked hand through his beard. Fucking. Luffy. Out of all people. Had died. By the hands— hands no fucking less- of his son. His son, the son he raised and helped and taught and loved with a heart so full of care, only to have him end up as a maniac.

He doesn't want to call him that. It's a title not fit for someone like Sanji. Not the Sanji Zeff knew, anyway. Kind, rough around the edges but a good kid at heart. Now he killed his captain and friend and the world kept on spinning.

Like it didn't even matter.

Like nothing ever mattered.

Zeff hunches over the counter, most likely thinking too hard.

His son. His son, killing people. Killing his friends. Never having been his son in the first place.

Zeff stepped out of the kitchen, up the stairs and onto a balcony for some fresh air. The sun had begun to set— a sight much more durable than actively entertaining the thoughts he was having.

He needed at least two bottles of booze and a whole lot of time to sleep. That was the only thing certain here.

—

"Garp! For fuck's sake, answer me when I'm calling for you," Akainu mutters, hammering his fist against the door to Garp's office. He hasn't heard a damn thing from the man all day. If he had fallen asleep again he'd be getting taught a lesson he hopefully won't forget anytime soon.

But instead of seeing the man hunched over in his chair, all Akainu is greeted with is an empty desk with no one in the room. Not near the window, not on the balcony— simply nowhere in this room.

How odd.

—

"I am so sorry," Ivankov sighs, placing a caring hand on Sabo's shoulder. This day just went from bad to worse.

And it's not okay. Sabo is not okay. Nearly the entire revolutionary army had gathered to listen in on the battle because traveling to the North-blue and getting there in time would have been an impossible task to manage to do within an hour.

But perhaps they should have tried. Because now, Luffy was dead, and a new threat had been introduced to the world. A threat that Sabo did not know if they could stop, because for once, they did not know who exactly the enemy was.

A friend, or a foe. Germa could be anywhere.

—

Law says not a word. Utters not a single vowel. The entirety of the Polar Tang was silent. No one says anything, really. Bepo doesn't even attempt to brighten the mood. Simply looks at his feet and mourns.

Mourning is all that anyone can do. But despite the loss, the memory of Luffy will live on.

It always will if Law had a say in things.

“I’ll be in my office,” Law utters, retreating in his steps before anyone can protest.

—

….

The atmosphere on the Sunny is tense. Too tense. They were now with the eight of them instead of ten.

Luffy was dead. Their captain was gone. No one was there to take the lead. Even Usopp refrained from attempting to sneak the captain's roll for once, something he would have done on every other occasion imaginable.

Zoro sat against the mast, knees up to his face and his hands tucked around his legs.

He did not feel like he had the right to mourn. That he should have died instead.

Zoro cares little for the thought of an afterlife. If he dies then so be it. In battle, that's a fairly easy mantra to remember. Something to push him further than he thinks he can go to ensure he doesn't pass, to ensure the safety of others. But right now. It just feels like everyone would be better off without him. That things would be better if he died. He's just a swordsman. He can be replaced. Hell— they already have a swordsman, Brook exists. There, problem solved.

Robin comes to sit next to him. Places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it lightly.

"How are you feeling?" She asks. It’s a dull but straightforward question. Zoro assumes she’s asking this because he's been in everyone's way. If they at least know he won't fuck up any further then he won't be a bother. Good. He doesn't want to pose an issue.

"Like hell," Zoro mutters.

"I can imagine." She retrieves her hand, careful not to graze his back. Zoro doesn’t think he deserves to let it heal. That the pain is just something he needs to accept because that’s what happens when you act out of line.

"How’s your back? You should really get Chopper to take a look at that. It might help with the pain."

Too damn kind. She's too kind despite how he's been acting. Like a selfish bastard, that is. One that did not deserve to be surrounded by such. Such nice people. Such forgiving friends.

"No need. I just need some alone time right now. It’ll come later."

"I don't think that's a good idea. I understand that everyone's shaken about what happened but there's no reason to exclude you from, you know, sharing how you feel. We've already come up with a semblance of a plan. We'll stick together and settle somewhere, see if we can start anew."

Zoro grins. Would rather tell her straight up that tonight might be the last time he sees any of them— but not in the way you would think. Living alone was much more preferred compared to staying. He'd cause problems. That's all he has been doing for the last couple days anyways.

Saying goodbye was hard. Perhaps it would be better if he kept quiet.

"Sounds fine to me," he eventually sighs out. Robin nods and takes her leave.

The air feels tight in his chest. Like his heart is about to explode into a million pieces and make him throw up the remainders of flesh that cling to his lungs.

Oh well….might as well get this over with.

Chapter Text

Date: 12-09-XXXX

Finally. Freedom. Sanji's unsure how long it has been since he's truly had a grasp on it.

Judge didn't care where he went. As long as he came back he didn't feel the need to show concern. Not like he really ever has anyway.

It was official now. After a decade he's finally back home, here to stay until his inevitable death, whenever that might be.

The ocean looks so serene in the moonlight. Tranquil, soft, gentle with its ways.

The balcony that towers over the vast sea was sturdy. He wouldn't fall unless he jumped.

Home.

The thought felt alien. This is his home, no doubt about it. Still, the surroundings aren't what he's used to. The ocean is something more familiar, something that makes it feel like home, yet the walls that surround him feel suffocatingly foreign.

Sure. He'd miss that stupid ship. How he needed to pay attention to his steps whenever they had landed in a stubborn current. How sleep either came the moment his head hit his pillow or not at all. How he's chased Luffy all across the deck for stealing stuff from the fridge after having told him off for the how-many times already that week.

He's going to miss Luffy. If anyone would be mourned, let it be Luffy.

His body was put to rest in a glass case, covered by a black cloth. It resided in the attic— somewhere Sanji doesn't go too often, but that might just change.

There is no regret. What needed to be done has been done. That's the end of it.

But he can mourn. He can think. He can smile at the memories they made together even if his motives were ulterior.

He hopes that Nami is okay, at the very least. She seemed strong. And in a way he's glad Niji went for Zoro, the bastard that he is. An attack like that would have been a bit much for someone who had only recently recovered from an illness such as that.

Sanji frowns. Fucking— Zoro.

He doesn't know why. But the man just wasn't leaving him alone, not even in the middle of the night when sleep was supposed to reign. Not when there was not a sound to be heard in the late-night sky.

He wouldn't miss him. Puh, not in a million years.

But he'll think. Think about why the man was stupid enough to love him. Stupid enough to believe him even when it was obvious that only lies were being spilled. Stupid enough to feel, most of all.

Love is weakness. Love is the opposite of hate, although both are things one can use as a driving force behind certain behaviors. The only difference is that love is an emotion that will only slow you down and gnaw at your bones until they snap and then it's already too late to save the ones you want to save.

Those fuckers experienced it firsthand, anyway.

Sanji rubs at his eyes, groans and backs away from the balcony. Exhaustion was tugging at his mind— it wasn't easy to concentrate.

His clothes land in the corner of the room, and Sanji falls face first onto his mattress, the softness of the blankets inviting him to stay the night. He sprawls himself out, closes his eyes and finally, after a day that had gone on for too damn long in his humble opinion, he could try to catch up on some sleep.

Emphasis on tried, anyway.

That same itch from before buried itself deep inside of his bones, until it became too hard to ignore. Sanji scratched and scratched and scratched but— it— it just didn't go away it just kept itching.

But this itch. It was different compared to the feeling from when he attempted to nap those couple hours ago. This was intense enough for him to feel it inside of his lungs. Any air that went in clung to the insides of his airways and then, almost like a fly pulling itself out of a fly trap, slowly, the air released itself again. And eventually it became. Painful. Like it would be better if he ripped out his lungs and then some.

But that would be absurd! No normal person would ever do such a thing. Although Sanji wasn't quite normal, was he?

Sanji presses his nails into his chest, clawing at the skin to see if that were to do anything. But alas, the itch persisted. With each passing of his nails, the sensation grows. And it grows. And it spreads almost like the roots of a seed would, spreading from his chest to his shoulders to his stomach to his legs until he could feel his entire being vibrate with pain.

Blood trickles from newly formed gashes, yet even that wasn't enough to divert the sensation— it just doesn't stop. Sanji heaves, his breathing growing harsher and harsher.

Was this some sort of payback? Was this Usopp's work with those plants of his? Or Franky? It wouldn't surprise Sanji all that much if the man somehow managed to create a 'spreading-an-unbearable-itch-machine' or whatever it'd be called.

He guesses sleep was out of the question, regardless of how tired he felt at the moment. His eyes felt heavy— like he could pass out without even trying. But he was trying and he just ended up feeling like shit so guess fucking not!

"I warned you," Nika mutters, finally showing himself after having laid low for a while— it's honestly quite a spook to suddenly see him there but that aside. "If you do decide to go your merry way there will be consequences."

"Oh fuck off," Sanji groans, sitting up— the itch almost instantaneously disperses, which is definitely a relief— although he's going to have to change his bedsheets now, blood having soaked into the once pearly white satin. Damnit.

"This is your own fault. Deal with it," Nika spits. Sanji blatantly ignores him, waltzing back to the balcony.

The moon looked so gorgeous tonight. Better than that pest floating around him anyway, acting all high and mighty like he had any idea of the shit Sanji had to go through to finally be able to rest, yet still unable to close his eyes to do so. Like he understood the struggle Sanji went through just to get home.

Sanji stares at the moon. Stares, stares, stares, until he's sure that the image was burned into his retina.

He doesn't feel sad. He doesn't feel anything. No remorse, no regret, and surely no sorrow.

So then, why is he crying?

It's just a tear. One singular tear that makes its way down his face, only for a second one to follow. And a third one. And a fourth one. Until he can't stop, and he just keeps on fucking crying and it sucks it hurts because why is he crying? He has nothing to cry about. Nothing to be sad about. Yes his entire body feels like it’s shaking but— it's not. Sanji refuses to accept it.

Nika frowns. Sits on the balcony and cocks his head to the side.

"Do you regret it? Killing Luffy?"

"No," Sanji growls, "he deserved it."

"Then quit moping. You don't deserve to cry."

"I'm not doing this on purpose!"

Nika scoffs.

"Whatever. If you wish to mourn then that's your choice. Not like I can really stop you from doing so."

Sanji turns his back to the man, rubbing at his eyes to get rid of the tears. He's exaggerating. He's being dramatic. Anything but actually sad. Sure his chest might feel tight and his stomach might tie itself into knots every time he as much as thinks about Luffy but that doesn't mean he feels.

Nika vanishes into thin air. Again. Sanji knows he hasn't left but the illusion of privacy is still better than none at all.

Damnit. God fucking damnit.

—

The air felt cold tonight. Not cold enough for it to be freezing but cold enough for it to be annoying. Especially on the open sea, surrounded by only water and air.

Zoro doesn't know where he's going. Doesn't know how to navigate. A dingy, sure, he knows how to sail one. But he remains a swordsman. He's not Nami.

Back to Mihawk— that's the plan he's decided to go through with. He'll train and train and train until he can't anymore and then some, until he can become the greatest swordsman in the world. He's still after the tittle anyway. After that, he doesn't know. Maybe he'll try to pay Sanji a visit.

The water pushes and tugs at the small boat, leaving Zoro off balance. It's that he doesn't have to stand just yet.

He left a note. Right on the kitchen counter, held down by a cup filled halfway with water, it waits to be read.

'I'm sorry.' That's how the note starts— with a much-needed apology. 'I fucked up. I didn't mean to. It's better if I just leave. I'm heading back to Mihawk. Thank you all so much.'

It's sappy, sure. But what else was he supposed to write? Zoro felt clueless. Lost. Keeping it short was for the best.

This, too, was for the best. To leave and never come back because now he won't be in their way anymore and now they won't have to worry anymore and now they're okay again. Not fully okay but it's better than not being okay at all.

It's stupid. So fucking stupid. He doesn't even know if he's going in the right direction. Maybe he could ask for a ride on someone else's ship if he passes one.

For now he sleeps. Because what else can he really do? He can think but it's not like he wants to. Everything leads back to Sanji. Every. Single. Thought. And for once, Sanji doesn't feel like home.

—

"Excuse me? This has got to be some kind of joke—" Nami hums, reading the note in hand again. With every pass the words seemed to sink in a little more, her frown deepening. Zoro left. Straight up disappeared without a word. Nothing of what he had written down made any sense— no one thought he was a burden. No one felt like he fucked up. Things could have gone better but it wasn't just his fault.

And now they're down to seven. Fucking great.

"By the looks of it, I don't think this is a joke," Jinbei sighed out.

"No kidding." Nami glances over at the ship's railing. "But I'm worried he'll get himself killed."

"I don't think we can really do much about it now. Who knows where he might be." And the annoying thing is, Nami knows Robin is right. The man knows better than anyone else how to get themselves lost without even having to try. It'd be too difficult to chase him, too hard to keep up with his constant disappearance. And she didn't want to loose another one of her friends. Not— not like this. But at this point there was nothing she could do other than accept the situation, even if it sucked.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what to do. I really don't."

"Hey, it's okay," Usopp says, running a gentle hand up her back, "nobody does. Even I'm freaking out more than I'd like to admit, and yes, it does suck, but— you know. We'll pull through. We always do, right?"

"You can't say that for certain," Franky interrupts, "we can't say that it'll be okay because this most definitely isn't my definition of it! How can you be so casual about any of this?"

"I'm not." Usopp's voice cracks as he speaks, and you can almost swear he just let out a tear. "I don't know if things will be fine. But there's nothing wrong with being optimistic."

"There is! I'd understand it if the situation were just a little dire but we drove the bar through the fucking ground at this point."

Usopp takes a long breath. Rubs at his face, looks Franky right in the eye, and he yells. You can almost see his heart skip a beat.

"For once in your life, can you stop being so cynical?! I know, we all do, that things went to shit! Can you not add pressure on top of that?! You have been nothing but stern this entire time we've been here and I'm sick of it! I can't take it anymore! Ever since Sanji started to act up you got pissy and now look where we are! Luffy's dead, Zoro's gone off to nowhere and Sanji's— he's gone too now. I'm not blaming you but, dude."

And tears do spill. Franky is taken aback by that. By the sudden yelling. By Usopp's anger. Or upset-ness, rather. Usopp heaves, his chest rising and falling in a way that nearly portrays it as dangerous, like his lungs would collapse any second now.

Franky doesn't say anything in response. Just walks off without a word. Robin rushes after him— like she always does with these ridiculous anger outbursts.

Everything is falling apart. One more argument and everyone would go their separate ways. Even if it weren't true it does feel like....like they'd lose everything they had all worked for. Like nothing they did mattered anymore.

Or maybe they were never meant to meet in the first place. Maybe Luffy was so incredibly stubborn he pushed through despite it all. Maybe he was the one and only exception. Nami wouldn't know. She just knows she'll miss the guy.

—

Date: 15-09-XXXX

"Directly from the Grand line, Morgans, reporting live at the scene! I haven't seen anything like this before throughout my entire career!" The man's screeching is unpleasant to the ear, but it surely does fit his character. Holding onto his hat with one of his feathers, with a microphone in the other, all he— or anyone for that matter— can really do is watch as the onslaught continues. "Germa has always been a force to be reckoned with, but that seems more notable than ever now! Treading into the East Blue, multiple ships seem to be searching for something! We will keep you all updated as soon as we receive more information from our trusted outside sources!"

The Snail recorder gets cut off, its eyes shutting for the time being.

"I swear, those pests are always up to something I tell you," Morgans grumbles. Despite having been somewhat allied to Big Mom less than a months ago, as was with Germa, this didn't make any sense. It didn't click for him then, and now it still doesn't. Why in the world would Germa out of all people start attacking any and all islands that they come across? Just what are they searching for?

Especially Sanji. God he seemed to be fuming, even from the distance that they sat at it was obvious. Angrily kicking himself across the sky and bashing into some sea restaurant— just who did that guy think he was? The whole scene felt uncanny.

First Luffy dies. It would have been surprising if no one wrote about it. The news spread like a wildfire, reaching parts of the Grand line even Morgan himself has trouble reaching. And then this. A rampage that somehow caused the oh-so mighty kingdom of Germa to grow by the minute it seemed.

Taking over islands, sure. That makes sense. All pirates do that.

Bursting into a restaurant and kidnapping some geezer, however? What the fuck was up with that?

Morgan didn't care for who. Rather he cared for why. He's after that scoop, and no matter what, he'll get it. It's all or nothing.

—

Adrenaline was raw. Pure. Something anyone can get a grasp onto if they try hard enough. You don't need much to be able to feel it course through your veins as if that is all you're made of.

Sanji was no different.

He feels it. In the way his hands tremble as they grip the sharp end of a knife. In the way his stance is wobbly. In how his breathing hitches as he finds himself back with the bastard Zeff that thought he could just kidnap him from his own family and call it 'love'. Again with that stupid fucking term.

"You don't have to do this," the man says. Sanji doesn't listen. Can't find the energy to listen. Doesn't know how to listen. He tosses the knife, grips Zeff by his collar and raises him up against the wall until his feet dangle and his throat makes gurgling sounds.

"You wouldn’t have been able to hurt me even if you tried," Sanji hisses, pressing the old geezer's body further against the wooden wall. The eye contact lasts far longer than he would have wanted. Gross.

Sanji can't bring himself to apologize. Can't think of a damn thing to say, to keep this useless conversation going.

Knocking the geezer out was child's play. He hoists the man over his shoulder and kicks himself back out of the hole he created in the ceiling, returning back to his real family with yet another hostage. One he'll personally use, question and beat if he didn't like the answer he got.

Tired. He was so. So. So tired.

For days. Nika hasn't let him sleep. Hasn't let him rest for even a minute, his body now covered in scratches and already faded scars all formed due to that same unbearable fucking itch that never seemed to want to leave and now he couldn't be anything else but angry and now it sucked even more than it already had and now he wanted answers and solutions and now he was just doing shit to try and make it stop make it stop holy fucking shit make it stop.

But fuck. Right now. Right now he couldn't care any less about his actions than he already didn't. He just needed everything to be quiet and then it would all be alright.

—

...

How long has it been? Since Zoro had seen any land? Far too long for his liking, anyway. The waters he sails on are unkind, never in favor of letting him rest for more than an hour at best. The moon is his one and only companion, never leaving his side yet always there to flaunt his losses right in front of his face. He sees the moon because no one else is there to stand beside him, blocking the sharp light that catches his eye.

So he sails. And he keeps sailing. Going in some direction he thinks might be correct. Relying on his gut feeling hasn't always worked out all that great. It's difficult to get a grip on where exactly he might be going.

But it all works out. Somehow, after three full days of sailing, it all works out. Kuraigana island— where he'd spend those two years training, training, training and even more training after that. It felt awful, to spend every god forsaken day injured and hurt and moving about when his body protested at the slightest twitch. But for once he did not mind, seeing those same grey clouds marking their presence over the castle he's gotten himself lost in more times than he can possibly count.

The grass felt wet under his feet, squelching with every step he took until that same old fence of a door came into view, the ground changing from grass to pavement, even if the stone path was more worn down than the trees that were scattered about.

He can knock. Sure. But who even knocks anymore in this century?

The hinges creak as the door opens, a gust of frigid air greeting him the moment he steps in. Not Perona, not Mihawk, but the silence of the wind.

"Hello?" He calls out— Zoro knows he will get lost if he attempts to move about himself. It'll be better to wait until Mihawk gets annoyed with his yelling and tells him to cut it out and follow him instead of just standing there.

"I need to talk to you. It's important."

Again, only silence greets him. Zoro takes a couple steps, looks around the corner and sighs. Yet another hallway for him to get lost in.

A cold, ghostly hand suddenly grabs his shoulder, and Zoro nearly jumps up at the touch.

"Still don't have any proper manners? Did you just let yourself in or did the wind whisper to you it was okay to enter?" Perona— guess she did notice him enter after all. God it was creepy how fast she was, though Zoro has to admit, it was nice knowing he wasn't completely alone now (even if he himself had decided to head out on his own terms).

"Good afternoon to you too," Zoro smiles, although faintly, "I'm sorry, I just— stuff happened. I didn't know what to do but staying wasn't an option. I'm sure you've heard about Luffy by now."

"Yeah," she sighs out, "I'm going to miss him too."

It stays silent for a moment— you can almost hear how the wind pushes at the trees, urging their branches to scratch at the windows to push them open. Perona then clears her throat.

"Fine. Because it's a shitty day today, and I think it might rain a bit, I won't mind your sudden intrusion. Are you hungry?"

—

Zeff's body thuds loudly, the groan he lets out echoing through the concrete walls of the cold cell Sanji ruthlessly tossed him into. Like he had the right to act as if they were mere strangers. Zeff hated it. Hated how his son, his Sanji, turned out to be hiding under a façade all along.

Was all the time they had spent together been for naught? Had it all been useless, meaningless at its core? Zeff didn't know anymore. Didn't know what to think anymore. Didn't know what to do anymore. His Sanji wouldn't listen, his Sanji wouldn't do this.

But this wasn't his Sanji. This was just some... bastard— even if the tittle didn't fit his face.

"You don't need to be doing this," he pleads, yet his words fall on deaf ears. Sanji inches closer, closer, until there's mere inches of space left between the two.

"Why," he asks, "why did you do it?"

"Do what?! Raise you?"

Sanji strikes Zeff at that answer.

Zeff takes a moment to catch his breath, his stomach forming knot after knot after knot but he refuses to show how much it hits him. How much this undeserved anger makes him want to sob.

"Don't get cocky now. I meant why did you....care? Back then." And Sanji is almost timid when he asks.

"Because you were young, just a boy, stranded. All I did was do what any other decent human being would have done. Don't go blaming me for a storm."

"You're— so fucking stupid."

"And you're still an eggplant." Zeff rolls his eyes, a dumb but slightly knowing grin lingering on his lips despite what he feels when Sanji merely kicks at a wall, and not at him. The concrete cracks upon impact, blasting pieces of debris in whatever direction it could go in.

And for once, Nika smiles, too.

Their conversation is cut short when Sanji storms out, radiating anger with every step he takes.

"Get a submarine ready," he barks at one of the guards, "I'm leaving."

"To, sir?" The guard asks, only to get kicked in the stomach for it— with a loud bang, his foot clashes against armor, sending the guard flying a couple feet.

"I didn't tell you to ask questions, did I? Just get a fucking submarine ready before I kick your head off your neck!"

Zeff can't exactly see what's going on other than the guard that was 'oh so carefully' told off, the yelling not suiting Sanji in the slightest.

And yeah. Sure. It does hurt to see his son, the man he had raised to be as kind as the sea, act like this. It does. But what can he really do? Tell him to cut the act? Like Sanji would listen to him now.

The doors slam behind the blonde as he treads back to the docks, frowning at just about anyone who even dared to lay their eyes on him. The wind is harsh against his skin, though nothing he can't manage.

Nika grabs at Sanji's shoulder, digs his nails into the flesh and nearly growls as he talks, and Sanji can't help how he groans at the tight grip. "Watch yourself. I don't quite like this shitty behavior of yours."

"I'm gonna kill you," Sanji grins, waving at Nika's foggy form. He dissolves, only to appear in front of the blonde mere seconds later, his expression anything but pleasant.

"Don't even think about getting into that sub," Nika threatens, but Sanji merely laughs, kicks at a barrel and grabs the sides of his arms, nearly hugging himself.

Things are becoming too much, too much. Sanji's having trouble processing it all.

He just wants to kill Zoro. Was that so hard to do? The man has been on his mind an annoying amount of time by now. So what better way to get rid of those thoughts by killing him? Have the root of the problem disperse in the snap of a finger. He just needs to find the Sunny again.

Soon enough, and after most of Sanji's patience has ran out for what it's worth, he jumps into the first submarine that he can get into, snatching the keys from their post and sailing off as soon as he can. The waters are a little murky, but that's not a problem. The sub's headlights are surprisingly strong, nothing that the water could block anyway.

"Where are you even going?" Nika asks, almost in a panic.

"I'm going to kill that bastard. Zoro's the fucking reason I can't sleep for shit. He's the reason everything failed! If he hadn't...exposed me then I could have tried to make it so that no one would have even remembered me in the first place! Fuck!" Sanji slams his hands into the sub's steering mechanism, swerving from left to right a little before regaining whatever stability he had before.

Nika doesn't have the heart to tell Sanji that the sleep part is his fault, and it sucks because he quite literally has his heart in sight. Either way he sighs.

"Whatever. Not like I can stop you. I figured that much."

"Shut it," Sanji snaps, forcing the submarine to speed up a little more as he talks, or growls between clenched teeth, rather.

"I'm going to end that bastard, even if it's the last thing I'll ever do."

—

Date: 16-09-XXXX

Franky hadn't tried to talk things over with Usopp ever since they had their argument. Things have gone the same as they always had. Except he didn't call the man over anymore to discuss the designs or inventions he had in mind. He didn't try to show off whatever drawing his brilliant mind could come up with on a whim. Sure, sometimes Franky managed to slip out a hello whenever they passed one another, but even that happened less and less. Usopp had retreated back to the men's dorm and his own workshop, barely showing his face anymore.

That was his fault. Franky's fault because he thought he knew what to say but he didn't and now look at what he's done.

It's been a while since they continued sailing, for now more scouring through the area and doing whatever it takes to stay afloat. They could probably settled back in Dressrosa. Robin brought up the idea purely because Doflamingo wasn't there anymore, and with the shit they were in at the moment, she was sure they'd be given some sort of support. Hell, there was Bartolomeo's whole crew....thing....whatever the fleet was called, they would be sure to help them. Nami briefly mentioned Alabasta, but didn't talk about it any further.

Nothing had been settled on just yet. There were ideas, but no real plans to execute them. At the very least having an idea or a concept of a plan would save them all time later on, so there's that he guesses.

It sucked. That Usopp felt so down. It was never his intention to cause a ruckus but in the moment it was quite the task to think about the words that sat on his tongue, about the meaning that they held, causing him to just snap.

For a moment he considers apologizing. Every single time his mind wanders to Usopp it's the first thing his thoughts turns to. But his ego, the darned thing that he knows sits on too high of a pedestal to the point he can't even get it off anymore, turns the idea away. As if he should be the one apologizing for taking the safety of the crew into consideration. If Usopp wanted to act as if this wasn't catastrophic then fine, but he would have no part in it.

Franky knows he's lying to himself. But he's already too knee deep into shit, there's little he can do now except wait.

....that was something he was good at. Waiting. It didn't require talking or asking for help, no, god forbid he does.

So he waits. For the first couple days of that silence things went fine. But then he spots Usopp sitting outside less and less, tending to his flowers all the same but that's about it.

He does worry for sure. Usopp can have his opinions on things. But if what Franky thought was seen as unconventional then, so fucking be it. He won't flinch at a barking dog if he knows it'll refuses to bite.

"Franky," Robin says, leaning against the doorframe— he'd been too lost in thought to notice how he had been grumbling to himself over something he was tinkering with.

"Yeah? Need something fixed?"

"Don't do that," she tells him, her tone stern. "Don't try acting as if nothing happened."

"Jus' asking if you needed anything, jeez."

"Usopp wants to talk."

"Why?" Franky cocks his head to the side, and Robin frowns. She did not like that answer in the slightest.

"You know why. Look, most of the time I'd be wanting to help you with whatever it is you're going through but you have to take accountability for your own actions. I can excuse pettiness, but this is more than just random some argument—"

"I know that," he interrupts, "but he knows just as well as I do that this isn't anything to be optimistic about. Sure, what I said was harsh, but it was realistic."

"That doesn't mean he shouldn't get the right to speak his mind."

"Can this wait? I'm still working on something," Franky grumbles.

"You'll have time to work on your projects later. This is more important than work."

"So you want the Sunny to fall apart then? That's not very optimistic if you asked me—"

Before Franky can mutter another word, a hand sprouts from his side, hitting the man in the face with some decent force. His cheek stings from the sudden strike, but he doesn't say anything about it. Just sits there and bites his tongue. Perhaps fixing his brain and wiring it up to a computer might be a solution if he had to watch his words as much as he needs to.

"You're genuinely being such a fucking prick right now. Quit it." Robin slams the door shut, the arm flipping him off before dispersing completely, leaving the man alone once more, the silence more than overpowering.

"Sorry," he mumbles under his breath. If there's anyone he'd rather not piss off it's Robin, his entire world, his love, but guess even that failed. Was there a wire somewhere that was causing issues with the electrical signals to his brain? He wouldn't know. Genuinely. But he fucked up now, that's for sure.

—

The monotone hum of the submarine echoes off the metal plates that hold the structure together, mechanical beeps jumping up once in a while. Deep, murky blue water clouds the windows, making it hard to see what's in front of the sub. But that's alright. The headlights that shine deep into the water were more than enough to make clear of the path it followed.

Sanji sat in front of the control panel, frowning at the numbers he saw. There's too many and too little at the same time, making his head spin, but not really.

He has a mission here. Kill Roronoa. Because then he can rest.

This was all because of him. Not Nika's stupid ramblings, not because he 'stole' the man's 'heart'— come now, he knows it's just a trick to get him to give up. Although, he doesn't know why exactly, but he can't be paid to care less either.

He needed to kill Roronoa. He tried to stop him the first time, who knows what he'll do now.

Sanji bounces his leg up and down, impatient, both tired and energized all the same. There's this rush he feels moving through his veins that he can't quite put a name to, as if he can take on the world if he so desired. For all he knows he might just do so, for the fun of it.

"You're serious," Nika asks, somewhat silently. "You know you don't need to do this. There are other ways. If you'd just listen—"

"Liar," Sanji snaps, "I don't care about a thing you say, you don't deserve to talk to me as if you know what's going on! I'm going to put that bastard through the worst that's ever fucking happened to him again and again and again until he begs for me to make it stop, until he begs for death, else it— it won't stop."

"Sure it won't," Nika sighs. He's not sure why he bothers with the man anymore, seeing as he's clearly not a hundred percent all there. He feels no sympathy for him, no, but that won't stop Nika from at least giving his honest to god opinion. "Death won't be any kinder to you if you do kill the man. Just watch it."

Sanji throws an empty mug at Nika's form, the mug phasing right through him, breaking apart into a million pieces as it clashes with the iron wall. Nika merely sighs. What a pathetic display of anger this was.

—

Mihawk has been too kind to him, caring for him as if he were his own child....if he can put it like that. Some tears definitely shed when he explained what was going on. And the scar on his back wasn't making this any easier. He's failed so hard before even coming close to reaching his goal, but not that it mattered anymore.

Today was rainy. The downfall had become too rough for it to be bearable anymore, so Zoro was forced to retreat back inside. He's enjoyed spending his time outside, whether it be in the rain or in the sun. Something about laying in the grass felt like home, like that would fix everything.

Zoro sits near a window, knees tucked up to his chest as he gazes to wherever his eye move towards. The thought of Sanji still sat heavy on his mind, especially now— he can recall that the man particularly liked the rain, or just about anything that had to do with the ocean. The man never got to accomplish his dream either. An eye for an eye, he guesses, even if comparing it like that was more than unfair towards his own self.

He should have died. Right there, alongside Luffy. Then he wouldn't have had to disappoint anyone. He feels pathetic. So fucking weak for existing now that he's basically set himself out of bounds. Spending his days moping here hasn't done him any good it seems— what a surprise that is.

He misses it. The feel of the deck swaying under his feet with every step he takes. The sound of water clashing against the deck as it gets pushed back and forth. The feeling of steady downfall hitting him right in the face whenever it rained. He misses it.

Luffy, most of all. He's dead because of him. Does he even deserve to mourn?

Had any of this even been a good idea? Should he have stayed? Maybe apologized for being such a dickhead? For his stubbornness? An apology won't bring Luffy back he knows this, but still. Zoro just keeps screwing up.

He's a screw up. Probably bothering the hell out of Mihawk too. He's being kind because he has to be, that's all.

Zoro takes a breath. Staying here won't do him any good either. Nor will leaving. But he'd rather get going and see if he can get by in some other way rather than stay here and continue to be a nuance to the people who he thought he cared for. Annoying them by being a burden isn't quite what one does when you care for a person.

Never has it been said to his face. But at this point, Zoro's more than certain that's what they're all thinking; about how he's useless, about how he can't do a thing right.

Maybe he should go back to Sanji. Let him finish the job so he won't be a nuance for no one anymore. And in a way, wouldn't that be something that the blonde wished for? His timely death and demise? Now that's what you call swatting two flies at once. Problem fucking solved.

Sure. Zoro knows he's bad at making decisions. But this one, he's sure of. For once in his pathetic life he knows exactly what he wants. Death at the hands of his lover, or at least the person who used to be. Setting out to sea now would save everyone time later on.

Now he needs to be lucky enough to find his boat back.

—

Sanji doesn't know for how long he's been sailing. One hour? Two? Three? Fifteen? What does it matter, all he knows is that it hasn't exactly been a day yet. He paces back and forth in the tiny compartment of the sub, his steps echoing, distracting his mind from the anger that seethed through his veins. Anger he couldn't hold. Anger that drove him to kill.

The sub started to hover between fully submerging and sticking above water— Sanji got a gut feeling he might be close. Not to the Sunny per se, but to something. It had become even harder to see, the sun having settled for the night, the moon taking its place in the sky. The night air felt chilly, but nothing he couldn't handle. Perhaps waiting atop of the sub would give him some clarity, maybe even some peace of mind.

Climbing up the ladder, the hatch opens up, revealing a sky full of stars. The view was gorgeous, the light bouncing off the ocean waters as if dancing on her waves. Sanji could get used to that sight.

But then he spots something. Out of the corner of his eye, a dinghy floats, one that felt too unmistakably familiar. Its colors pop despite the lack of light— that was one of the Sunny's dinghies. Those stupid little boats that hang on the side of that stupidly humongous ship. And on that boat lays Zoro, sleeping.

No fucking way. This wasn't real. He ran off? No way in hell would anyone have let him go. Not willingly anyway.

Sanji retreats back into the sub, takes a couple breaths and checks the radar to see if he isn't hallucinating. A green dot— how fitting— dinged every time the radar went round, indicating the location of the foreign boat.

This was real. Zoro was right in front of him, and this was all so, so very real.

Nika didn't even try anymore. Just 'sat' there, arms crossed over one another as he watched the blonde nearly crash out. This had been far too easy, far too convenient.

And after a hot minute, carefully watching the radar as it did its thing, he emerged out of the sub, artifact in hand.

"Hey," he shouts, startling Zoro awake from his slumber. The man rubs at his face, nearly as confused as Sanji is it seems.

"I'm going to kill you," Sanji continues, but he doesn't get any sort of response. There's only silence. Only the sound of the waves crashing against the sub and the dinghy. Zoro just stares instead. Carelessly, Sanji jumps over to the small boat, sky walking most of the way there. Zoro doesn't move back, doesn't show any fear. He merely sits there, watching Sanji, a smirk tugging at his lips but not quite yet.

"Are you excited? Luffy's gonna give you hell for dying, you know." It's a bluff, Sanji knows better than to drag a dead man into this. But the words do something, although he doesn't exactly know what. Zoro's smirk widens, his gaze to the floor as he just fucking sits there like a dog that's waiting to be hit. As if he actually wants to die.

"I feel honored," Zoro eventually mutters, his grin turning sorrowful, "that I get to die by your hands then. I don't mind."

Sanji sighs, heavily. "Gross fuck." Swiftly, he grabs at Zoro's collar, hoisting him onto his feet and, although it's a disgusting sensation, presses his forehead to the other's. "What the actual hell is your issue huh? Do you wanne die then? Do you want me to kill you?"

"Well, yeah."

...

The answer he gets is too immediate, too fast. Sanji frowns, takes a second to think and drops the man's collar. Perhaps he has a better idea in mind than to straight up put his hand through the man's chest.

If it were really true, and Zoro wasn't just saying this because he could, he might as well make this fun for however long it'll last.

Squeezing the artifact a little, a soft light emerges from it, and Zoro closes his eyes, reading himself for what was to come. But as he waited, nothing ever really came. No pain, no shiver that ran down his spine, nothing. And the moment he opens his eyes, an all-white room is all that's there— no dinghy, no ocean, no sub. As if they never existed in the first place.

"Here's the thing," Sanji begins, pacing up and down in front of Zoro as if he were discussing the weather or an idea for a dish he came up with on a whim, "I really, really want to kill you. More than anything, actually. That's why I even came out here in a sub, to look for you. But I have a better idea."

The white room suddenly changes to a view of the Sunny, but despite lively conversations happening in every corner, they don't seem to acknowledge the pair.

"One request. One wish, if you will. I'll grant you anything. But after that, you'll let me do whatever I want. Then, I'll end your miserable little life."

"Why?" Zoro queries almost instantaneously, "why would you....do that?"

"Because I pity you. This is pathetic."

Zoro stays silent for a moment. Of course this was out of pity. Though it's a surprise he can still feel anything in the first place. Not that it mattered.

Zoro was a dead man standing, and he knew it.

"So? What do you want?"

"You," Zoro gasps out, nearly desperate. Or maybe he is. Who knows at this point.

"Everything but that."

"But I—"

"Don't. You're gross. I don't want your filthy hands on me. I bit you before, I can bite you again."

"Then bring Luffy back."

Sanji grimaces at that, nearly amused with the request. But it's not quite funny.

"Even if I wanted to, which I don't, I wouldn't know how to." He glances at Nika for a moment— or at least where he thought he last saw the man, but for some strange reason, he stayed hidden. Huh...

"Can I at least hold you? For one last time?" Zoro continues, a tinge of defeat hiding in his voice.

"Will you drop it? I thought you'd be asking for more Sake or whatever, not that. Listen, I'm about to kill you. I am not your friend."

"Well, I like you more than Sake."

"And I hate you more than myself," Sanji bites back, grabbing Zoro by his collar again and pressing his lips against the other's, squinting his eyes shut. The sensation is foreign, unpleasant, and he blatantly drops Zoro onto the ground the moment he feels his heart acting up. It wasn't supposed to fucking do that. Yet every fucking time— whatever. Bad thoughts would be discarded of. This is a bad thought in his eyes.

"There. Fuck you're disgusting," he groans, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand multiple times over. Zoro merely sat there, quietly, happy and content with that awkward kiss.

He's ready to die now. He's absolutely fine with dying if that was his legacy. Sanji can scream and throw as many punches as he wishes, pummel his head into the ground until his features were unrecognizable, and he'd thank the man for it if he still had the strength to speak.

The Sunny then flickers, like a hologram, a whirlwind of images flashing in front of his eyes. The more Zoro watches, the more he recognizes, the more he notices that these were mere memories rather than anything else. There's a harsh wind he has no idea of on where it begins or ends, pulling and pushing at him in ways that felt like he was trapped inside the eye of a storm.

Then there's darkness. Everlasting, stretching darkness that he doesn't know how to describe, but it sends a chill up his spine either way. It feels as if he were falling, down, down, down, without a proper end in sight.

It becomes harder and harder to focus, lightheadedness spreading through Zoro's body as if he were getting shocked.

And suddenly, they're back in that damned cave where they first truly fought, no one else but the two of them being able to really move. Luffy stands still in his place, as is the case with Usopp, Nami, Franky, everyone else, like statues frozen in time.

Maybe that was the case. Maybe they really did freeze.

Luffy. He was alive, Standing there as if he never even died in the first place. This accursed island ended up bringing the sight of him back, a weight lifting off Zoro's chest.

"This was before everything went wrong. Before I ever returned to Germa. Before I passed out because I didn't know how to use this thing," Sanji explains, showing Zoro the artifact. "It's all real. And I'm going to slaughter you where you stand, right in front of their eyes."

"Luffy's alive? Is— is he really?"

Sanji rolls his eyes at the question, not surprised in the slightest.

"Yes, I suppose he is," he sighs. Luffy then falls face first into the snow, his movements sluggish but they're there. He can't talk, can't speak, his voice having been silenced by the powers Sanji held with him. But he sure as hell tried.

"See? Alive and kicking, as annoying as he is."

"Please don't kill him," Zoro begs, not caring about how his ego wants to just punch right at the man's face for ever killing the guy in the first place, "I beg of you please, just let him live. Kill me over and over again if that's what you want, just let him live."

"You care more for him than yourself?" Sanji queries, but quickly drops the question, "whatever. Should've seen that coming to be honest."

With a snap of his fingers, Luffy freezes back in time, as if he'd never moved in the first place.

"He'll live. You simply won't."

"Promise me. Promise me that he won't die."

Sanji merely scoffs. "Can't say he won't do something stupid, but sure. It won't be on me then."

Zoro slumps against the ground, the fatigue he's been pushing to the back of his mind and keeping as the least of his priorities finally flaring up, a tense knot growing in his shoulders. There's not much he can do anymore. Not that he wants to fight anyway. The icy cold numbs his mind just enough for it to make the thoughts that run around his head, screaming, begging for another way out, silent.

A sudden pang shoots through his chest, more painful than even Mihawk's sword, or the struggle he faced back during Wano when he was eye to eye with the grim reaper themselves. Zoro's body shudders, flares, and he screams until his lungs burst, until he tastes blood on his tongue. A migraine of a headache pounds through his skull, to the point Zoro thinks he might bleed out of his ears. Gashes randomly scatter over his skin, ripping him apart piece by piece as if he were imploding.

And all Sanji had done was place his palm atop his chest.

Zoro coughs— blood spurts out of his mouth, the snow staining crimson.

"You sound so pretty like that. Screaming, begging for your life," Sanji grins, grabbing at Zoro's face despite how he flinches at the touch. Nothing happens this time around, thank god. "You're going to sound even better when I rip your head off your neck and stuff it somewhere the sun doesn't shine. That's what sailors say, don't they?"

Zoro doesn't answer, just stares at Sanji with a primal fear he hasn't exactly felt before.

"Whatever." Sanji drops the man's face, grabs at his throat instead and slams his head against the cold stone that surrounds them. Zoro scratches at whatever his arms and hands can reach, but it's no use.

Again. And again. And again. Until Zoro is bleeding and bleeding and bleeding, until he can't think at all anymore, until all his thoughts have been turned into one mushy mess.

And then his surroundings fade to black. His other eye had given up. Zoro can feel the left side of his face pulse, blood seeping out of the still filled socket.

It's hot. The liquid runs down his face, seeping into his mouth, but he doesn't have the strength to move himself anymore. Everything just...hurts. So, so much.

But it's okay. Everything is okay. If he bites his tongue and lets everything wash over him, it'll be okay. Zoro will meet the grim reaper under two eyes, take their hand and walk the path he was supposed to tread all this time. He'll cross over the river of death he's swam in more times than he can count, silently, and finally rest, wherever he might lay.

....

But he doesn't die. Despite feeling like death, he doesn't die. In fact, Zoro feels more than fine. Beter than he's ever felt, for that matter.

He opens his eye— as if it hasn't been bashed into his skull mere seconds ago— and he's right back where he started.

Sanji stands in front of him, a dumb smirk lacing his face in ways Zoro doesn't know how to process. Sure, okay. He's alive somehow. Cool. But he's not supposed to be. Frigid air seeps into his lungs, sending a chill down his spine that shakes him thoroughly. It felt similar to the reaper's touch, but just not quite.

Sanji crouches down, running his hand through the prickly strands of Zoro's hair, turning the man's face so they're meeting eye to eye. There's a new roughness to his touch that wasn't there before, but now it's too painfully obvious not to notice.

"Tell me. Do I look like him? Like the man I thought I resented? Judge is, and always will be my father, right? Do I look like the man?"

"No," Zoro answers, "you look like Sanji. Like yourself."

"Don't be like that," he sighs out, tone too timid for just about anyone's liking. "He's— he's kind."

"Oh fuck off," Zoro laughs, his side stinging with a newfound pain. He buckles over but keeps his posture as best he can. "That's what you consider to be kind? Have you even looked at the man? The guy's a bear of a man, he's not kind."

"No you— you don't understand." Sanji grabs at Zoro's throat, both hands, first gently running his fingers around the skin on his neck before really squeezing his airways shut— again, his hands, it's so weird, so uncanny to feel them grow violent— his grip unrelenting, tight, and Zoro doesn't bother to protest. "I look like him."

There's too little air in his lungs for Zoro to argue back, so he doesn't, merely shaking his head instead. Sanji's expression falters heavily, the pressure on his neck becoming tighter as the seconds pass.

"I do look like him, I am— I'm his legacy! There's a fucking reason I was send out first! There's a damn reason for everything! Mistakes were made but I am what he wants, what he needs! You're just too— too useless to understand."

The fingers press deeper into his skin, and it becomes hard to concentrate. Zoro nearly faints— that's how tight Sanji's grip is.

It's okay. If Sanji needs this then Zoro will allow it. Everyone gets frustrated once in a while.

"You— I am kind," Sanji yells out, "I have a legacy! I— what else was I put on earth for? To lounge around and not do a damn thing?!"

Zoro feels the pressure in his face start to build up. it hurts— the sensation is hard to describe, but if he really needed to put a name to it, drowning would come awfully close. He starts to asphyxiate— Zoro's body feels tight, twitching from the lack of air that fills his lungs, from the lack of blood reaching his head.

But it's okay. Luffy will live. They will all live. That's all Zoro wanted for them anyway.

"You wouldn't understand," Sanji groans, "you never would."

And without another word, the blonde smashes his face into the cold stone once more, and for a moment everything turns black.

....

It's weird. How Zoro seems to be dying off so quickly each time. But he supposes it's simply part of whatever ritual this might be. It's not like he can really be paid to care anyway.

"You're really pissing me off."

"Sorry," Zoro coughs, taking a second to gather himself. Every time his vision fades to black, a wave of tranquility washes over him, and he knows more than well that that's death wrapping its arms around him. "Just speaking my mind."

Zoro stands up, rubs at his face— the blood that previously dripped down his cheeks wasn't present in the slightest anymore, the cold an overpowering force that made it hard to notice anything on his face in the first place. Sanji stands silently in front of him, leg raised up to his chest, itching for a fight.

But Zoro doesn't want to fight. Would rather just lay low and get his ass handed to him. It sounded a lot more peaceful anyway.

They simply stand there for a while. Zoro looks at Sanji with only love and care and want, whilst Sanji cannot be bothered to quit scowling. And for a moment it's quiet. Silent. For sure not peaceful but there's only tension that fills the air, not the smell of blood that's crept up his nose more times than should be normal by now.

"You can do it now," Zoro says, silently, voice barely a whisper.

"So you're just going to give up?" Sanji mocks, venom dripping from his words.

"Yeah. I give up. You can kill me now."

Sanji scoffs, lights his leg ablaze, and suddenly they're out in the open, the snow making it hard to see what's going on. At this point the change of surroundings doesn't bother Zoro anymore. The flame shines brightly through the stormy weather, the fire faltering for a moment before Sanji finally strikes. The attack is swift, calculated— it's typical, in a way. Sanji had always been someone who calculated his moves, someone who paid more than enough attention to detail. And even now, when Zoro wasn't going to be fighting back, he remained the same as he always has been.

Zoro gives in the moment that Sanji's leg hits his torso, falling into the snow and rolling over one, two, three times before coming to a halt. That hurt. The burn of the fire made it hard to breathe, his entire body shaken up from a singular fucking attack. He feels pathetic. But it's okay. He'll die soon enough. Then shame won't be a thing he'll have to worry about anymore.

"You know," Sanji begins, pressing his foot down onto Zoro's chest, smoke sizzling up from his leg— the smell is horrendous, like he's being burned alive. Zoro squirms, hisses, grabs at Sanji's ankle but nothing makes the hurt stop. Guess he deserved it then. "I have never, in my life, hated someone as much as I hate you. And I could go on," he growls, pressing his foot down harder, "and on, and on and on about how much you disgust me, but you probably know what I want to tell you already."

Sanji lifts his foot and kicks at Zoro's torso— he rolls over a couple times again, only coming to a halt when hitting a lone tree that stood in the midst of the snowy field. "How does it feel? Dying by the likes of me? Good, doesn't it? Since you're into pain so much, I'm sure you'll enjoy this too." Suddenly, Zoro's chest aches, and he tumbles forth, groaning out— if not screaming in pain. It feels like he's getting stabbed and stabbed and stabbed a thousand times over again, the pain worse than anything he's ever felt. And all that due to a single kick.

The cycle repeats for a while. Over and over again, Zoro suffers through his own personal little hell, dying only to come back and gasp out in unbearable pain until he dies again and again and again until it becomes too much. Visions flash before his eye, of the past, of the present, and a voice he only recognizes a little bit whispers things to him that he doesn't want to listen to.

Nika. Out of all people, Nika is trying to tell him to get up and fight, to get up and do something against Sanji's unethical rampage. Zoro wants to resist, wants to ignore all the things he's telling him even if Nika is right. Despite everything, this was still Sanji. And right now, Zoro was not in the right mind space to try and hurt him, blatantly ignoring how he's been killed more times than he can count on both his hands already. He deserved it for being such a failure. Sanji did not.

"C'mon, tired already?" The blonde teased, hands stuffed deep into his pockets. Zoro doesn't respond, merely laying in the snow and trying his best to ignore Nika's pleas. He sounds panicked. Sad. Disappointed. Desperate. Zoro didn't know what to make of it other than that he didn't like it.

"You know what, if you won't get it done, I will." Zoro shakes his head— no, no, he couldn't— he can't— Nika shouldn't— there's things going on here that no one knows of, and things can still be fixed and Sanji doesn't have to die because as long as he dies then everything will be all right and Nika— he—..

It doesn't matter what he wants. In the end, Zoro is forced to draw his swords. He is forced to steady himself. Forced to get into a fighting stance. And he is forced to fight.

Sanji doesn't mention the change in behavior. Rather he tosses the artifact out of his pocket and grins. Something about making this a fair fight so he won't die the second Sanji kicks him.

But then things go south. Nika blasts Sanji back somehow, Zoro can't seem to wrap his head around any of it, and his swords pin into Sanji's shoulders, holding him down and blatantly stabbing at his stomach with the third sword. Zoro had closed his eye before it happened, not wanting to witness any of it— but the guttural screams Sanji lets out are hard to ignore. The struggling kicks and scratches that make his face bleed are all part of what Nika wants, apparently. And after a while it stops. After a while, he regained control. Zoro opens his eyes, tossing his sword at least a foot or so out of the way— Sanji's stomach was mutilated beyond recognition. The inside of his abdomen had been carved open, revealing his intestines as they bled out into the snow.

"Sanji?" Zoro asks, softly, shaking his still pinned shoulders. "Sanji! Hey!"

"I'm sorry. But it had to be done," Nika explains, but that's not what Zoro wants to hear. He needs to hear Sanji tell him he's okay, that things will always be okay. Zoro can't do this on his own. There’re too many things he still doesn't have answers to, and he's just supposed to live on now?

No. No. He won't let it end here. He can't let Sanji die, can't let everything go to shit just because people have had their pasts decide a path for them. Because in the end, that's what happened here. Sanji had been forced to turn into someone that wasn't who he really was despite thinking he had a legacy. So he rushes to grab the artifact, shakes it, desperate for it to turn back time. He won't mind having to do this all over again and again and again if that means Sanji will live.

He hopes. He wishes. He prays, squeezing the artifact in hand, scrambling over to Sanji's— his body. His dead body. His corpse.

Tears start to spill. Silently, he sobs, sprawling himself next to Sanji as he hugs the body. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. None of this should have ever happened in the first place.

He squeezes his eye shut, arms wrapped tightly around Sanji's torso, mumbling an illegible sting of desperate pleas that he knows won't be heard.

....

And all of a sudden. As if nothing had ever happened. He's right back in the Baratie, with both his eyes still there, no scar over his chest, and only three other people sitting beside him. Nami, Usopp, Luffy, with Sanji swooning over the ginger girl, just as he had when they first met—

When they first met.

Had he done it? Had he traveled back in time? Zoro didn't know how but he did it... He laughed, rubbing at his face and nearly jumping out of his chair, hugging Sanji with a certain tightness that was nearly suffocating. He was fucking alive, that's all that mattered.

He'd never let him go. Never again. Sanji was here and alive and his once more. It doesn't matter that he'll have to go through every single thing that's ever happened to him again, Zoro would do it over and over if that meant Sanji would stay himself. He had said that the Baratie was different, had he not? So there was still a chance that Sanji would stay...well, Sanji.

It's all right. Everything was all right again.

Zoro could finally rest easy now. Next to Sanji, where he belongs, where he'll stay until the end of time. And if that means having this be his forever-lasting prison, so be it. It didn't sound too horrible, spending the rest of eternity fighting for his life for a man who probably didn't remember a thing about what happened.

Yeah. Zoro can live with that.

.....

Fuck, he'll live. He really will.