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The pitter-patter of rain hitting the Sunny’s deck was a fitting background for the calm atmosphere of the galley. There weren’t any dishes being made; no pots clinking against the stove or knives hitting the cutting board as fruits and vegetables were sliced up, and the rest of the kitchen was equally as quiet. Sanji had been alone since the storm started, a cigarette loosely dangling from his lips but never lit as he watched the rain from the galley window.
Breakfast had ended almost an hour ago, and normally Sanji would be halfway through preparing morning snacks for the crew before starting on any lunch prep. Normally, he would’ve twirled around Nami and Robin while glaring at Zoro and “begrudgingly” giving the rest of the crew their snacks, hiding the soft smile that always threatened to break past his lips when they complemented his dishes by brushing them off and picking a fight with the mosshead.
Normally, Sanji wouldn’t spare a second glance at flashes of red, blue, or green that seemed to dart around the ship when nobody else was around. Normally, he wouldn’t feel his heart drop at the sight of the infirmary when the door was open and he could see Chopper’s equipment—equipment that had treated and helped him before. Normally, Sanji wouldn’t be fearing the loss of his humanity every waking moment because of his piece of shit biological father—
Sanji let out a weary sigh and let one of his hands reach up to his head, fingers tangling in his hair and pulling ever so slightly, just so he could reassure himself that he wasn’t back in Germa. He was on the Sunny with his nakama and he was doing a piss poor job actually doing his job as their cook, but at least he was there. The cigarette in his mouth finally had enough of being nothing more than a toothpick, and the paper split and half of the stick fell into the sink. Sanji let his gaze drift down to it, the all-encompassing feeling of being utterly useless returning to his chest. His throat felt tight with emotions he couldn’t quite express, and he squeezed his eyes shut to stop any tears from falling down his cheeks. He was home, but he still felt as terrible as he had the moment he kicked Luffy back at Whole Cake Island and denounced his dreams.
Sanji knew what he wanted. He wasn’t an idiot, and he knew that he craved punishment and rejection as much as he wanted affection and forgiveness from the rest of the crew. He wanted to be told that he had failed them because at least incompetence was comfortable. Sanji knew how to navigate being the fuck-up, the reject, the failure. Being placed any higher meant there was a chance to disappoint further than he already did by existing, by taking up space that didn’t belong to him.
(If Sanji could choose to escape and save himself all those years ago or let his mother live the life he had, he knows that he would’ve let himself die for her in a heartbeat. Sometimes he wishes he could die to bring her back because at least she was worth something.)
None of the crew acted like they were angry with him for leaving with Bege. Of course they were angry at Big Mom and Germa, but their negativity was never directed towards him. Once they had finally set sail from Wano, there was no shift in the crew’s dynamic. Luffy still begged for food, Usopp and Franky still tinkered around in the workshop, Nami and Robin would be in the library together either reading or drawing up maps while Brook played them a tune with Jinbe occasionally joining, and Chopper was in the infirmary studying or out on deck playing with the others.
The biggest change was Zoro had begun to sleep in the galley more often, but Sanji understood what the swordsman was doing. He was letting Sanji know that he was there if Sanji needed him, and that he wasn’t going anywhere.
“What, do you not trust me to be by myself anymore, shitty swordsman?” Sanji bristled, his grip on the paring knife in his hand tightening in anger.
“Nope,” Zoro replied with his eye closed, and Sanji was about to speak before Zoro interrupted him, the snarky comment dying in Sanji’s throat. “You won’t ask us for help, so I’m just gonna have to start looking at what we can do. You’re not alone, dart-brow.”
Sanji closed his mouth and nodded, unable to form words as he resumed cutting up the fruit meant for that afternoon’s snack. He heard Zoro shift from his spot on the couch, and then he spoke up again, tone resolute.
“You don’t have to hide or over complicate it. You bein’ yourself is enough for us.”
The memory feels out of place from anything that Sanji wants to associate with Zoro—soft words never fit well into the mental image he had of their relationship. The two of them didn’t do soft, even if they were alone together. They could be gentle, they could be vulnerable, but Sanji didn’t ever think Zoro had tried to be soft with how he spoke to Sanji. It made him wonder just how much Whole Cake had really affected the crew, despite their reassurances.
The phantom sting of where Nami had slapped him has yet to fade, and Sanji wishes that he could feel it again. To everyone else Sanji wanted it because it had been a woman willingly touching him, but what they didn’t know was that he was centimeters away from begging anyone to hit him. He prayed for a fight between him and Zoro where he could fall to the ground and let the swordsman beat him until he wasn’t sure if it was Zoro or Yonji because all he’d be able to see would be a head of green hair whaling on him until his vision faded to black.
A part of him acknowledged that these self-destructive thoughts were the exact opposite of good, but the larger, self-loathing piece of himself shoved them down and instead reminded him of how willingly he had fought his captain and how he was going to leave Luffy to starve to death. His ears felt hotter the more he was reminded of how embarrassing the whole ordeal had been, with how his crew had found out about his biological family and seen him at his lowest point since their two-year separation. At least he had the comfort of isolation at Momoiro Island, with no way for his shameful actions to be revealed to the crew.
A flash of red flew past the window that overlooked the galley, and logically Sanji knew that it was Luffy chasing someone out on deck. He knew that he was past Whole Cake Island, but the color still made him tense as he remembered Ichiji’s words.
“I guess it’s time to reconfirm our hierarchy. You are… a failure.”
And who was he to object when his brothers were right? Sanji absently brought a hand up to his face and pressed his fingers into where the bruises still lay beneath the mask that Reiju had given him. He can still feel where each of Ichiji’s punches had landed, while Niji and Yonji held his body up just like when they were kids. Except the three of them were so much stronger than before, and Sanji could still see the handprints on his arms from being held down while Yonji had his fun, he could see the burns where Niji had shocked him until his vision whited out and his ears rang, he could feel Ichiji’s breath by his ear as his eldest brother whispered just how much of a waste he was while he held Sanji’s throat in a single fist, clenching it until Sanji felt like he was drowning in a shipwreck again but this time Zeff wasn’t there to save him and he was going to die—
“Cook?”
Shit. Fuck. Zoro, the goddamned idiot himself. In the middle of yet another spiral, because why would he ever leave Sanji alone?
“Screw off,” Sanji muttered, picking up the knife that he hadn’t even realized had fallen out of his hand. He had gone on autopilot at some point and had begun to slice some fruits into bite-sized pieces to pair with some yogurt to form a parfait for the crew, but the knife was half embedded in a strawberry that had fallen on its side on the cutting board and rolled onto the counter, still stuck on the blade. Sanji had noticed that he was losing more time recently; he’d blink and lunch would be halfway cooked and ready to serve, but the meals would be traditional East Blue cuisine. Dishes he would serve from the Baratie’s menu. He heard shuffling from behind him and forced his shoulders to roll back into a relaxed stance, resuming his task as Zoro stood next to him and watched. He was itching to kick the swordsman out of the galley with a choice word, but the green of his hair made Sanji hesitate long enough that any response would feel forced.
“What’s up? Zoro asked, putting his folded forearms on the counter next to where Sanji was cutting and looking at him while he worked. Sanji scoffed and didn’t respond, at least until Zoro reached over to grab a strawberry from the uncut pile.
“Oi, don’t take that, Marimo!” Sanji growled, swatting Zoro’s hand away from the fruit. Zoro managed to grab one berry and held it between his thumb and his middle finger, giving Sanji an unimpressed look.
“Then tell me what’s up,” Zoro replied, popping it in his mouth then chewing as he spoke. “Otherwise, I’ll assume your doin’ nothing, which means it's fair game, Cook,”
“I’m making snacks,” Sanji huffed, keeping his gaze trained on the knife. Not out of necessity, but because he knew that the look Zoro was giving him was sure to make him crumble in an instant. “Obviously.”
“Not what I mean, moron,” Zoro said as he took another strawberry, and this time Sanji let him. Sanji knew what Zoro was really asking, but not being supposed to talk about the Vinsmokes was so thoroughly instilled into his very being that he didn’t even know if he could. How could he know if Judge might try and come back for his crew just because he dares talk about his time in Germa? What if he reveals some secret that makes them a target and he gets all of them killed because he couldn’t keep it together over a fucking color? It hurts to breathe for a moment, and he knows it isn’t from the residual pain of Yonji’s hits that bruised his ribs so hard he thought they had broken. A hand rests on Sanji’s back and he can’t suppress the flinch that jumps out of him, but Zoro doesn’t move. They both know that he’s keeping Sanji grounded in the present. “What are you thinking about in there, Curly?”
“Nothing,” Sanji croaks out, struggling to take in a breath before Zoro’s hand loosens the knot in his lungs by rubbing a slow circle on his back. Zoro doesn’t say anything else, and Sanji is thankful for the swordsman letting him take his time. He set the knife down and closed his eyes, letting his shoulders slump. “I… “
The door to the galley opened and Sanji looked up, expecting to see Luffy burst in to ask for meat. He felt Zoro tense, but when Robin appeared the swordsman relaxed and turned back to looking at Sanji, keeping his hand on Sanji’s back.
“Ah, am I interrupting something, Swordsman-san?” Robin asked, and Sanji couldn’t find it in himself to be miffed at Robin addressing Zoro and not himself, despite being in the kitchen. Zoro grunted and shook his head, and Sanji half-heartedly kicked Zoro’s ankle.
“Respond to Robin with words, you brute,” Sanji chided, his voice a bit quieter than normal. He didn’t move to leave Zoro’s touch, but he turned his head to look at Robin with a small, albeit strained, smile on his face. “Would you care for anything to drink, my dear?”
“Why don’t I make a cup of tea for the three of us? I do miss brewing it from time to time,” Robin replied, matching Sanji’s smile with a small one of her own. “I’ll make the blend you picked up from the last island.”
“Ah, you don’t have to—” Sanji began, starting to twist away from Zoro in an effort to beat Robin to the pantry, but Zoro moved his hand to grip Sanji’s waist and pull him into his body.
“Nope,” Zoro asserted, pulling Sanji along with him as he walked towards the table. “Thanks, Robin. We’ll wait here.”
“You can’t make her cook for us!” Sanji protested as Zoro dragged him to sit down on the bench, but he couldn’t bring himself to tear away from Zoro’s hold despite his mind screaming at him to get up and do his job for once, to be useful—
“I can hear your thoughts, Cook,” Zoro broke Sanji from his thoughts with a flick to the side of his head. Sanji sighed and leaned himself back into Zoro’s chest, letting the back of his head rest on the juncture between Zoro’s neck and shoulder while he looked up to the ceiling, eyes lazily tracing the grooves of the wood. He let himself tune in and out of Robin and Zoro’s conversation, trying to keep his mind from drifting too far into castle walls and dark cells despite the pain that kept reminding him of how real it had been. Sitting still made the aches in his body amplify, and Sanji was morbidly grateful for the fact that it was keeping him grounded. A huff of a laugh slipped past his lips as three mugs clinked down onto the table, and he heard Zoro’s inquisitive hum that asked him what he thought was funny despite not having spoken. Sanji couldn’t tell whether it was the fact that Sanji had barely slept since he had gotten back on the Sunny, or it was the comfort of Zoro’s embrace that was responsible for his loose filter, but he was talking before he knew any better.
“The pain is the only thing keeping my mind from going back,” Sanji said, reaching his hand out for a mug and taking it by the handle. He sat up and off of Zoro to take a sip, raising his visible eyebrow when he was met with concerned gazes from his crewmates.
“Pardon?” Robin asked, polite as ever—bless her—pausing in raising her mug. Zoro grunted, mug up to his lips as he took gulps of the tea.
“Ah, I mean.. Sometimes it’s just hard to remember I’m not back at Germa,” Sanji said with a wave of his hand as he drank again. As long as he could divert it away it’d be fine. “Especially after seeing—” Nope, that was the exact wrong direction. Surely he could make a clean getaway at this point, as long as he played it natural. “In any case, I’m glad to be back home. I can’t remember if I’ve checked stock though, so—”
“Cook, what do you mean by ‘the pain’?” Zoro interjected crudely, sharing a glance with Robin over his head. Sanji tensed and tried to step up from the bench, but Zoro firmly grabbed his arm and held him in place. Sanji shook his head and opened his mouth to try and form any excuse, but nothing would come out other than beginnings of sentences that were cut short by his own indecisiveness on how he could possibly deflect.
“It’s nothing, just some aches,” He settled on with pursed lips, praying that he would be able to get away from this without lying to his nakama any more than he currently was. He wasn’t technically lying though; it really wasn’t anything to worry about, especially because it was him. He’d been through worse. Much worse.
Robin and Zoro were sharing a look again that made Sanji bristle, but before he could defend himself the door to the galley flew open and Chopper ran in, Nami following behind him at a much more casual pace. Sanji’s gaze immediately went to the floor at the appearance of the redhead, and he felt guilt settle deep into his stomach. He really shouldn’t be bothering the crew with this, especially not Nami. She deserved to be angry at him, and he felt his throat tighten as the feeling of her slap became fresh in his mind once again.
“Sanji, Robin said you were hurt!” Chopper cried, hopping up on the bench. The reindeer looked adorable worried as all could be as his eyes looked all around on Sanji for any signs of injuries. “Where is it?”
“I-It’s really nothing, Chopper,” Sanji tried in an attempt to wave him off, but Zoro tightening his grip and growling out a warning to Sanji had him flinching.
Alright, so he wouldn’t be able to get out of this one. He quickly began to take stock on his body and wondered which part would be the least alarming to show to everyone (because he would never tell the ladies to leave, and he couldn’t stomach the idea of not being close to Zoro when he was being forced into vulnerability), and he let out a frustrated sigh as his hand came up to his face. It had been long enough since Reiju had given it to him, so maybe…?
Everyone in the room paused when it seemed like Sanji was about to act, and he took that as his sign to keep on moving forward despite the urge to get out of it. Maybe if he showed something minor, then they’d be satisfied and move on. Sanji took a deep breath and let his fingers grip the edge of the translucent mask before peeling it away and letting it fall to the ground, looking at Chopper expectantly.
“See, it’s not that bad—”
“Sanji!” Chopper cut him off, the little doctor looking horrified. “What is that? This has been on your face the entire time?! How, how long?”
“Reiju gave it to me for—...It’s been on since Whole Cake, before Luffy and I…” Sanji’s voice trailed off and he lifted a hand to touch his cheek, wincing. “It’s really not that bad..”
“You seem to have a different definition of what is and isn’t bad, Cook-san,” Robin said, and Sanji looked over to see that her brows were knit together in concern and she was frowning. “Perhaps Chopper should give you another once-over—”
“Maybe after lunch? I should really start on it, and the rest aren’t that bad,” Sanji defended himself, and he felt Zoro’s grip on his arm get even tighter. Uh oh.
“The rest? What the hell, shit-cook?! Who did this? Was it Big Mom? Queen!?” Zoro growled, glaring at Sanji with a dark rage that he knew was intended for whoever had hurt him, but part of him felt panic at witnessing it. “Who was it?”
“S-Sanji, can you please just show me?” Chopper asked weakly, his eyes shining with tears that were yet to fully form. “I’m your doctor, I’m supposed to take care of you!”
“You have been, Chop, you’ve been great! I’m—This just isn’t a big deal,” Sanji tried to assure him, but Chopper only shook his head and crossed his arms. Robin’s eyes narrowed at Sanji’s correction from I’m to this, and he internally cringed that Robin had heard his slip-up.
“No! You have to show me, Sanji,” Chopper demanded, and Sanji sighed before taking his hand away from Zoro, starting to unbutton his dress shirt where the rest of his bruises were hiding. Maybe if he just left it open, Chopper would be satisfied…?
The moment the final button was undone, Sanji pulled his sleeves off to pool around his elbows, but then a hand yanked the rest of the fabric. Suddenly, his entire chest was exposed to the cool air of the galley and he shivered, spinning to face Zoro.
“What the hell, Marimo?! I shouldn’t be undressing in front of Robin or Nami, it’s indecent!” Sanji began, but upon realizing that the room had fallen silent he shut his mouth, realizing that all of his injuries from his brothers were on full display. Shit, this really was embarrassing. He immediately hiked his shoulders up and folded his arms across his chest defensively, refusing to meet anybody’s gaze. He swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath. “It looks worse than it is. Can’t we just drop it?”
“Sanji…” Robin’s voice died out as she spoke, shock evident on her face. One hand came up to her mouth, and Sanji felt his cheeks burning in shame. “Are those… handprints?”
“Just let me go?” Sanji asked quietly, tone bordering on pleading. He was feeling desperate to get out of the galley before he could see the looks on his nakama’s face get any more horrified than they were. “I’m used to it—” Sanji ignored Chopper’s wail at the admission, he just had to convince them all that he wasn’t worth the worry. “—and besides, I’ve had worse fighting marines. It’ll heal on its own.”
“Curly,” Zoro started, and Sanji heard how his tone was bordering on cautious. Something about it made a surge of fiery anger rise in Sanji’s chest, and he clenched his hand into a fist. Of all people, Zoro was the one trying to treat him delicately?! “Your back—”
“Shut up!” Sanji yelled, getting up from the table and grabbing his shirt back from Zoro in one motion. He felt his throat constrict again—not good, he couldn’t cry in front of his family—and he let his anger win against his tears. “Don’t try and treat me like I’m fragile because of some stupid shit like this! I was blasted by ENEL! Niji’s lightning was nothing compared to Skypiea! Oh no, Sanji’s brothers hit him! I’m used to it, okay?! It’s not a big deal because I’m saying it isn’t, and I would know, wouldn’t it?! I do not want to talk about it and I’ve tried to be nice, but please just leave it alone!”
Sanji was left breathing heavily at the end of his rant, tears still barely staying in his eyes. Zoro looked surprised at Sanji’s outburst with an underlying something that made Sanji want to kick him as hard as he could just because he couldn’t stand the look on the other man’s face. The fact that Zoro looked pained meant that Sanji had fucked something up again, and he couldn’t take it.
He didn’t even realize that he had been showing his back to Chopper, Robin, and Nami until he heard a sniffle from Chopper that sounded close to the reindeer trying to hold back his tears. Shit. There was no way he could fix this now, not with the stupid tangent he had just gone on. What the hell was he even doing?
“Sanji-kun,” Nami said quietly, and Sanji froze in his spot. His anger fizzled out to an all encompassing feeling of fear and guilt. He didn’t dare turn around to face their navigator. Surely he had just made whatever was between them even worse because all he could do was fuck up and she hates him, of course she does because who wouldn’t after he fought their captain– “Why won’t you just let us help you? We’re your nakama! You went back to the Vinsmokes when we were right there ready to defend you. Why? Are we not good enough for you, is that what it is?”
“I-I thought I could handle it,” Sanji choked out, unconsciously overlaying his hands with Yonji’s handprints in his arms, digging his fingers into the bruises. He felt Zoro’s hand come to rest on his shoulder, but the contact wasn’t harsh. It was gentle, like Zoro was trying to comfort him, and Sanji felt his eyes burn. “I thought that I’d be in and out like I always am. I didn’t expect Judge to actually trap me there again… He said he’d go after Zeff. I couldn’t let the old man sacrifice himself for me again, and I-I couldn’t ask you guys to sacrifice yourselves for me.”
“Sanji,” Nami started, her voice soft. Sanji kept his gaze fixed on the floorboards of the galley as she spoke. “What happened on Whole Cake Island wasn’t your fault.”
“I know, but—”
“Sanji. It wasn’t your fault. Of course we wish you would’ve stayed with us. We feel the same way you felt when I left for Cocyashi, and when Robin left to go to the world government. It hurt because you were hurt and alone, and you’re still hurting.”
“I just…” Sanji’s voice gave out on him, and he sighed. How could he explain that it was all that he knew? He couldn’t go back in time and reverse the lessons that were beat into him; sure, he got better at hiding it from others, but the same voices that called him weak and pathetic still lingered in his mind. Even though he had done so much, he didn’t feel like he deserved it. What if his nakama saw the little boy in the prison cell one day, and they realized just how little Sanji had changed from then?
He was tired. He was so tired of having to look behind him to make sure the Vinsmokes weren’t there, or hide his words so nobody would know about what Judge had done. Zeff had never brought up anything Sanji had accidentally let slip, but he knew that his crew wouldn’t afford him the same luxury of denial and ignorance. He had never truly let down his walls before—not the way that he had always wanted to—but maybe it was time he started to believe what his nakama said.
Sanji sighed and let his hands drop from his arms, shoulders sagging and head low with his hair shadowing his face. He sat down at the bench he and Zoro had been on only minutes before with a hand in his hair, taking a deep breath as he looked up hesitantly.
“Okay,” he finally agreed, sitting up straight and setting his jaw. He chased the All Blue despite the fact that it may not even exist because it was what he had always wanted. Why should he deny himself of the comfort he had always wished for with a family that was ready to give it? “I trust you.”
The galley was quiet for a few moments, and Sanji resisted the urge to grab a cigarette from the pack hiding in his pocket. Had he said something wrong? He swallowed thickly and chanced a look up to the half of the crew in the galley. Hadn’t he just said he trusted them? They had been trying to reach out to him, and now it was up to him to meet them halfway.
“Sanji-kun,” Nami said, and the sadness lacing her tone squeezed Sanji’s heart until he was sure it would burst. She walked over and took a seat next to him, placing a hand overtop his on the bench. Robin and Chopper sat on Nami’s open side and Zoro took the remaining space next to Sanji, effectively surrounding him. Surprisingly, he realized that he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would. “We’re always here. Anytime, okay?”
“Yeah,” Sanji choked out, nodding and clearing his throat. “I do need to make lunch, though. Can I—”
“The storm outside cleared up, so I told Franky to start setting up the grill for a barbecue out on deck,” Robin interrupted, smiling. “I’d imagine he and Ussop will be here soon for supplies, so why don’t I take care of the prep work while Chopper goes and takes a proper look at you?”
“I’ll go take Luffy duty then,” Zoro grumbled, standing up and stretching with his arms up. Sanji rolled his eyes fondly at Zoro’s false reluctance. “Don’t want him jumping at the grill again.”
“I’ll supervise dumb and dumber,” Nami said with a dramatic sigh, patting Sanji’s shoulder and giving him a coy smile. He tried to flash a grin back, but all he could manage was a small quirk of his lips upwards. “Someone has to watch them before they break the ship clean in two.”
Chopper started to tug at Sanji’s sleeve, pulling him towards the infirmary. He looked down towards the reindeer and nodded silently, pushing off of the bench and grabbing his shirt.
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“I think the worst part about going back to Germa was how little everything changed,” Sanji offered to the quiet ambience on deck, looking down into his half-full glass of whiskey. The sun had set an hour ago, and Usopp had helped Franky set up a campfire. Chopper had insisted on making s’mores, and Sanji brought out the supplies almost immediately, setting it up with enough for everyone to have their share.
The conversation had gone from lighthearted recollections of past adventures to bittersweet reminiscing of the places they had left behind. Sanji had been quiet for most of the night, leaned against Zoro’s side and enjoying the swordsman’s warmth. He had quickly settled next to him after finishing his checkup with Chopper, feeling worn out from having to explain all of his injuries to the little doctor.
”Sanji, why didn’t you try and stop them?” Chopper sniffled as he wrapped Sanji’s arm in a bandage to hold the healing salve he’d coated on Sanji in place. “You’re strong, so what made them different?”
Sanji had paused before answering, the dismissive reply on the tip of his tongue dissolving the more he gave thought to the question. He let Chopper finish wrapping his arm before he placed his hand on the doctor’s head, looking him in the eyes with a sad smile.
“Sometimes it isn’t always about physical strength, Chopper. They’ve always been something I couldn’t fight back against, and… they’d just got a lot stronger and a lot meaner. But… it’s okay now. I know you guys will keep me safe next time.”
Nobody spoke, and Sanji took it as a sign to continue his thoughts. The fear in his chest was still begging him to stop talking before it was too late, but he pushed it down and held on to the small voice that told him his nakama wouldn’t judge him.
“My brothers, they acted the same like they always did. Reiju was kinder, but even she was stuck. Judge was still a vindictive asshole, of course. I mean, they even kept all of the shit that was plastered in threes—even the chair I had at dinners. What the hell is up with that? There were… places I saw that stayed the same down to the cracks in the wall, and even when I was there… I went back to being Vinsmoke Sanji… Part of me was scared I’d get thrown back in the cell, but I guess having to get married had its perks—kept me relatively safe.”
Sanji took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair, looking around at his crewmates. When he didn’t see any disgust or hatred in their gazes, he felt a weight come off his shoulders that he hadn’t even realized was there.
“I really did miss you guys,” he admitted softly, looking down at his hands. He could still feel the cuffs holding his wrists hostage. As if hearing his thoughts, Zoro slid his hands over Sanji’s and held them tightly. “I’ve always felt like I’ve been living on borrowed time since Reiju let me escape in the Red Line, but now I think I’m finally free of them. It feels nice.”
Sanji swallowed thickly, starting to feel his nerves building up again. Had he said too much? No, of course he hadn’t… right?
“Sanji,” Luffy’s voice broke Sanji from his head, and Sanji looked up to meet his captain’s fiery gaze. Luffy stood up and made his way over, taking the straw hat off of his head and holding it out to Sanji, who quickly took it in his hands. He crouched in front of Sanji and pulled him into a hug, arms wrapped around him tightly. “I want you on my crew, Sanji. If you’re a chef, you’re a chef, but you don’t have to be anything except for yourself when you’re here. You’re free, but if you have to belong to anybody, then you belong to us. We’re nakama.”
“Thank you captain,” Sanji mumbled into Luffy’s shoulder. Luffy’s hug felt safe, safer than he had felt in awhile, and he smiled wearily. Soon, the rest of the crew made their way over and joined in on the hug until it was practically a dogpile of Strawhats. He closed his eyes and sank into the warmth of his family with a content sigh. “I.. I love you guys.”
“We love you, Sanji.”
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“How come you didn’t put your hat on Sanji’s head, Luffy?” Usopp asked in the galley the next morning during breakfast. Everyone was nearly finished eating—with the exception of Luffy—and they collectively perked up at Usopp’s question. “I mean, you did it with Nami back at Arlong Park.”
“Sanji doesn’t like things on his head,” Luffy said through a mouth full of eggs and bacon. “I wanted him to decide what he’d do with it.”
Sanji currently had said hat resting around his neck, flat against his chest. He looked up to his crew’s inquisitive eyes on him, and he had to stifle a sigh at the unspoken question hanging in the air. Everyone was thinking the same thing, and he couldn’t blame them with what they vaguely knew about the Vinsmokes. His instinct to lie about what really happened jumped forward almost immediately, but Sanji took a deep breath and shook his head slightly. He could talk about them now—it wouldn’t get his nakama in trouble.
“Yeah, it’s a Germa thing,” Sanji admitting, wincing as a groan swept through the galley.
“How did those jackasses even manage to do that?” Nami almost yelled in frustration, crossing her arms. The rest of the crew murmured shared sentiments, equally curious and angry.
“Uh, it’s kinda awful,” Sanji warned, bringing a hand up to run through his hair. He struggled with what to say; he was locked in a dungeon with a metal mask over his head for the crime of existing? That wasn’t exactly the best conversation material for a sunny morning. “I..”
“You don’t have to share anything you aren’t comfortable thinking about, Sanji,” Jinbe said, and Robin nodded in agreement. Sanji’s heart warmed at their thoughtfulness—both Jinbe and Robin had seen their fair share of horrors, and he felt thankful that they weren’t trying to force anything out of him. Honestly, he was lucky that nobody had asked him about the cell when he had let it slip the night before.
“You aren’t obligated to share,” Robin added, taking a sip of her coffee. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”
“Thank you,” Sanji almost whispered, coughing to clear his throat while looking around. “Ah, Judge just… I had to wear this helmet thing, and.. I guess it left a mark on me.”
“How was Luffy the only one to notice that?” Usopp asked. “I mean, seriously—Luffy?”
“I noticed,” Zoro interjected, giving Usopp a flat look. “Maybe you’re just an idiot.”
“HEY! My army of eight thousand men begs to differ! Honestly, I should’ve had them go after you for saying such terrible things about the great Captain Usopp! You know, back before you joined the crew Jinbe, my men and I took down an entire LEGION of pirates! If you really wanna know…”
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“The helmet was a more permanent thing,” Sanji murmured, exhaling out a plume of smoke from his lips. He was leaned against the Sunny’s railing out on the main deck, taking a break before he had to start dinner. Robin and Zoro were the only two out on deck with him. Robin was a bit further away from Sanji and Zoro where she sat on a chair, reading a book. Zoro cracked his eye open to look at Sanji when he spoke, raising an eyebrow. Sanji looked back at Zoro and shrugged, taking a half-hearted puff from his cigarette. “When Judge realized I really was a failed experiment, he faked my death to the kingdom and threw me in a cell. There was this metal helmet, to hide my face—mainly my eyebrows, since.. Yeah… and it just never really left me. Luffy knew enough about my aversion to hats by the time we reached Skypeia, so it hadn’t been a problem until Bege came with the wedding invitation…
“I was really scared they’d throw it back on, y’know?” Sanji said with a shaky laugh, biting down on the cigarette filter. He reached a hand into his hair and tugged at the roots, feeling his heart beat quicker and anxiety start to settle in his bones. It was getting hard to breathe, like he had skywalked too far up and was losing oxygen from the thinning atmosphere. “I-I mean, he already let my brothers go back to what they always did, so I thought that once I’d married Pudding they’d put it back—”
Suddenly, Zoro was standing on his right and holding Sanji up by the arm, and Robin—when did she get there?—was on his left. Sanji’s legs felt weak beneath him, and he let out a small whimper before the shaking in his joints became too much and he slid against the railing to his knees. Robin and Zoro went down with him, and Sanji could barely register their voices. His head felt like it was underwater because of how much everything was distorted. A hand that was maybe Zoro’s took the cigarette from his mouth and someone else kept telling him to breathe. He tried to take more air in, but all he could manage was panicked gasps that felt like they were tearing through his throat and ripping up his lungs.
Sanji slumped all the way to the ground, leaning against someone soft while somebody else smoothed his hair out of his face and held a hand to his chest. His heart was pounding, but the feeling of someone else’s slowed breathing behind him was calming, and he tried to have his own breathing match it. When his breaths were more controlled, the person he was laying on wrapped their arms around him firmly, holding all of Sanji’s body as if he weighed nothing.
His eyes started to focus again, and Sanji realized that Robin and Chopper were now sitting in front of him. Robin was holding his hands with her own and rubbing circles into his palms, while Chopper was watching Sanji anxiously. The little doctor perked up when he realized Sanji was more aware of his surroundings once more, and lifted up a cup of water that he had been holding up to Sanji’s lips.
“Here, drink this,” Chopper instructed softly, his eyes shining with worry. Sanji nodded and took a few sips from the cup with Chopper’s help, and leaned his head back when he was finished. Belatedly, Sanji realized that he was laying on Zoro, who still held Sanji against his chest, breaths exaggerated and slow. “A-Are you okay, Sanji?”
“Better,” Sanji croaked, letting out a shaky sigh. He felt tears cresting over his lower eyelids, and he blinked rapidly, urging the tightness in his throat to go away. “Sorry, I haven’t really…”
“You’re okay, Sanji-san,” Robin said, bringing her hand up to his face to wipe away the tears. The waves of panic were subsiding, and Sanji felt grateful for the light breeze that had begun to pick up. The scent of fresh air and the feeling of the sun’s rays warming his skin was helping to ground him further, and the tightness in his chest loosened until it was nothing. “Relax. You’re alright. You’re with us.”
Sanji nodded and turned his head into Zoro’s chest, moving slightly onto his side so he could press himself as close as possible to the other. He could hear Zoro’s heart beating steadily in his ear, and he let out a weary sigh. He’d thought his anxiety attacks had been getting better, but apparently not. He closed his eyes and tried to turn deeper into Zoro’s hold, shoulders tensed. The swordsman seemed to read his mind and held on to Sanji tighter.
“Sorry,” Sanji mumbled, still fully tucked into Zoro’s side. He let his eyes open and traced the threads of fabric that crossed and intersected to form the yukata Zoro had on, not wanting to be in the dark but unwilling to look up at any of his crewmates. “Haven’t worked all of that out yet.”
“Just stay put, Cook,” Zoro responded. The vibrations from his chest as he spoke were even more soothing, and Sanji hummed. He felt Zoro’s fingers start to card through his hair, and the last of the tension in his body seeped out from wherever it had been hiding at the motion. “Do you… what do you need?”
“He needs to talk about it,” a new voice piped up, seemingly annoyed. Thankfully, Sanji was an expert at reading Nami’s tone, so he knew that the redhead was more worried than anything else. He shrugged his shoulders and turned his head slightly to look up at his crewmates, belatedly realizing that everyone was now out on deck. They were all scattered around, sitting in the general area of where Sanji had collapsed. Although they were all watching him, their presence wasn’t suffocating like he thought it would be. His gaze drifted back to Nami, and she gave him a pointed glare. If not for the sheen of her eyes and the wobble in her voice, Sanji might have thought that she was actually angry with him. Her expression softened when she made eye contact with Sanji, but her frown remained. “Well, not about everything, but at least on what we can do to help.”
“What can we do to help?” Usopp asked from where he sat next to Franky. “You’ve always helped me out whenever I’m going through something like that—all of us, really.”
“It depends,” Sanji answered softly, letting out a sigh. His crew was making an effort to reach out to him, and he knew better than to keep on hiding behind Zoro while having this conversation. They cared for some godforsaken reason—one that he had yet to figure out—and underneath all of the layers of self-loathing, he truly wanted their comfort. Sanji knows being vulnerable isn’t one of his strong suits, but he wanted to try for his nakama.
He shifted himself to try and sit on the deck next to Zoro, but he wasn’t willing to fully leave the other’s embrace. Sanji had stopped trying to deny himself that comfort since Thriller Bark, and he wasn’t about to start now. He lifted his head and looked up to the rest of the crew, giving them a small smile and shrugging his shoulders.
“When it comes to food, as long as I manage the stores well enough we won’t run out, but if we’re out for a long time at sea with supplies going down, there isn’t much anybody can do,” Sanji said, clasping his hands together. He quickly scanned his crewmates’ faces, and he felt relieved when there were no signs of contempt showing. That was his sign to keep going, but in a measured tone so he wouldn’t work himself back into a panic attack. “If it’s something more related to Germa, just reminders that I’m not there I guess. I don’t really like things on my head, or being locked in rooms.. Shit like that. I can get over it, but it just gets to me I guess.”
“So that’s why you got mad when we locked you in the storage closet that one time,” Franky realized, snapping. He and Usopp exchanged guilty looks with each other, and Sanji had no doubt they were remembering Sanji’s pissed off kick that shattered the door in one blow, freeing him from the small space. “Yikes, that wasn’t really super of us. Sorry, Sanji-bro. Won’t happen again!”
“Are bugs still fair game?” Usopp piped up, only to get smacked in the back of the head by Nami’s fist, the redhead fuming.
“Dumbass! What’s wrong with you?” Nami scolded, turning to Sanji with an apologetic look. Sanji held his hands up in a placating manner, trying to calm down the navigator.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t,” Sanji admitted, feeling his cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. “They used to get in the helmet, and I wasn’t really partial to them to begin with..”
“I know the feeling, Cook-san,” Brook piped up, and the grin across his face gave Sanji enough warning that he was about to say something stupid. “I’ve had bugs crawling in my head before and it was bone chilling, yohohoho!”
A chorus of groans rang from across the deck at Brook’s pun, but they soon dissolved into laughter from the rest of the crew. Sanji couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped past his lips, and he looked up to Zoro to see the swordsman holding back his own grin.
Maybe—maybe—things would be okay.