Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Tell me again how we got into this situation?” Zoro yells, his wriggling incessant against the other man’s back.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Sanji hisses. And if the idiot didn’t stop jerking around, he swore he was going to consider stopping their escape, parking his back to the marines, and letting Zoro take all the bullets for the both of them.

He skids around another poorly lit corner of the mineshaft. Carrying Zoro like a stupid, oversized worm of a backpack was not helping his speed or coordination whatsoever, but he was more or less the legs of this operation. In various ways.

“Just focus on not getting us killed, would you?” Zoro snarks, leaning his head towards Sanji as best he can at the odd angle.

A marine with a giant pickaxe for a hand rounds the corner behind them, eyes eager and wild. Must be the leader of the group. Sanji tsks as he rolls his shoulder, trying to get Zoro’s breath off his ear.

He takes another turn in the beat-up pathway, skidding to a stop when they’re met with a dead end. He turns, curses, and watches the meager bit of light spilling down the cavern become eclipsed by the marine’s shadow. A gaggle of grunts soon come in behind him.

“What? What’s going on?” Zoro demands, turning this way and that as he tries to see over Sanji’s shoulder.

“We’re fighting.” Sanji says, lighting his leg aglow with Diable Jambe. “Or, I am at least.” He kicks off the ground, rushing towards their enemies with a sneer.

—

It’s a beautiful day on the sea. The Sunny is sailing galiantly. Birds are singing; flowers are blooming. Zoro and Sanji are beating the shit out of each other.

It's normal, to say the least.

Zoro had come to the galley seeking booze, which was also quite normal. What wasn’t normal was the odd way Sanji had been regarding him since they’d left Wano, or maybe since they’d reunited there at all. The cook had been weirdly distant and contemplative; while also being strangely jovial, perhaps even more friendly with Zoro- all in equal measure. Zoro had noticed, of course- as much as they were at odds with one another they understood each other just as much. And perplexed each other just as much, too.

There was a reason they fought so much. They were far too similar and far too different all at the same time.

But Sanji’s behavior, while discernible to the swordsman, wasn’t necessarily understood. He had theories, but said theories didn’t quite pan out when that cold shoulder was replaced with Sanji casually throwing an arm over Zoro’s to correct his course the very next day. And while odd, the cook seemed in an oddly good mood- so it hadn’t been bothering him. And if that was the case, the odd hot and cold might as well be evened out, and their honorary first mate was going to spend no time worrying about it.

No time worrying about it, that is, until Sanji’s kicking him across the galley in a temper for something he usually just wacks his shins over.

“What the hell was that for!?” Zoro growls, running a hand through his coarse green hair as he tends to the soft spot that just knocked against the wall. He’s already standing, a hand resting naturally on his swords despite their unspoken rule to take their fights outside.

The little puffs of hot air spouting from the cook’s head are practically visible. “For trying to steal booze like I’m not standing right here! AND you nearly made me drop the entrée, jackass.” He slams the oven door shut and stomps over to the counter, busying himself faster than normal where he’d usually be continuing the verbal side of their argument.

The only one there to witness all this is Robin, who’s only raised an eyebrow at them, and Jinbei, who’s already become accustomed to their fighting, but finds himself questioning just how much is more than normal. Finding the way Zoro stands, grunts, and stalks off, apparently this is not.

Zoro’s cut off from leaving, however, when Nami and Usopp plod in through the galley door, grins on both their faces. They nearly walk into him, but after seeing his surprised expression as they nearly run him over, they instead each link an arm under his and stomp inside.

“Oi-! What the hell!”

“We’ve spotted land!” Nami grins, she and Usopp pulling him into a haphazard kickline dance that Zoro has no intention of participating in.

“Oh?” Says Robin, putting down the book she’d been reading. Jinbei looks up from his crossword, little round glasses balanced on his nose. Sanji stops, momentarily distracted from his work.

It had been a while since they’d been on land. Wano was weeks ago- nearly a month. Being stuck perpetually seaside was an expectation of their occupation, of course, but this was an especially long stint- and their long time spent on Wano may have spoiled them all, just a bit.

Zoro begrudgingly allows them to pull him around until they take pity on him and part, Nami brandishing her log pose and Usopp gesturing theatrically to the door.

“Everyone! To the deck for assignments, please!” Usopp calls, bent in an arch with a grin and pointing with both arms towards the galley door.

The galley dwellers follow Nami outside, where Luffy, Chopper, and Brook are already waiting. Franky emerges from downstairs, oil staining his hands (and a bit of his nose). Luffy begins bouncing with excitement once everyone has gathered round. Zoro chooses to stand next to Sanji to piss him off, which he deems successful given the glare the cook gives him, biting down harder on his cigarette than was necessary.

“I have good news, and I have bad news.” Nami starts. She stands tall before them, hair swaying in the pleasant sea breeze and alit with the bright ocean sun. Sanji’s bad mood seems to at least temporarily disappear as he stares up at her in awe, a stupid grin on his face as he clasps his hands together and sings her praises. “Any news is good news spoken from your mouth, Nami-swan~!”

Zoro rolls his eyes.

Nami taps her log pose. “We’re finally nearing an island! We’re about an hour out.” She points starboard, a small but luxurious looking island coming up on the horizon. It’s covered in greenery and tall cresting hills, bright sand making up the outer perimeter of the island save for a well-maintained port in the middle. Not far from it, a bit further in the distance and rising from the water like an unsightly tumor, is a second island- a tall, gray craggle of rock, with not a sign of life to be seen.

Franky squints his eyes, leering in the direction she points. “It’s the lil’ pretty one, right?”

“Yes, it’s the nice one. The other one’s abandoned, nothing on it but rocks and dirt.” She says, flippantly waving her hand. “But the one we’re landing on is inhabited, and it’s known for its lavish local markets and produce, as well as its tropical beauty!” She sings, anticipation clear in her voice. It was meant to be a supply stop and a bit of reprieve, but in her mind (and many of the other Straw Hats) it was saying: Vacation.

“So what’s the bad news?” Luffy asks, a single eyebrow raised cartoonishly high. He sticks a finger in his ear, wiggles it around, and flicks something at Usopp. Usopp slaps him.

“The bad news is…It’s kind of a marine hotspot.”

Luffy, of course, finds his boredom washed away in the new promise of excitement, meanwhile the rest of the crew finds themselves inwardly wincing.

“I suggest we leave two people behind to watch the ship, that way no one gets ganged up on. And since I know all of us want to stretch our legs, we’ll have to draw straws.”

It's a common practice for the crew at this point. Usopp produces a swath of sticks from his overalls, shuffling them around and closing his eyes before leveling the tops out and presenting his hand to the crew.

Luffy pounces on him, pulling the first with the snap of a rubbery arm. Then Chopper, Brook, Jinbei, Robin, Franky…

Zoro takes his without any fanfare, and Sanji insists Nami takes hers before he does, picking last. Usopp is left with a single orange stick. They compare.

Zoro knew he’d lost the moment he pulled it. His stick is short and yellow and it never stood a chance.

The green stick held out next to his is even shorter, somehow, and so he supposes that will be his partner in good ol’ ship duty. A quick glance around the circle they've made confirms that they have the shortest draws.

And as much as he’d love to go stretch his legs at a bar, he really doesn't mind staying. Especially if he's stuck here with someone like Usopp, or Chopper, or Jinbei- Hell, maybe even Brook.

But the green stick is held in the hand of someone with pale, blemish-free fingers and cufflinks that match his belt buckle.

So obviously, that won’t be the case.

“Aw, man!” Franky whines. “Can I call for a do-over? I fear for the safety of the Sunny!”

“Nope! No do overs!” Nami holds the longest straw close to her chest, surely running the numbers on the likelihood she'll pull a safe one again. “Besides, we need you to come with us to pick out lumber for the ship. We'll just have to trust these two idiots not to destroy it first.” She says pointedly, glaring at them both. Zoro rolls his eye, while Sanji gives an awkward smile and tries to placate her with promises that he'll behave (for her sake, of course).

As the rest of the crew begin packing in preparation for their day jaunt and chore run, Franky approaches them both with his big robotic hands clasped firmly together in pleading.

“Bros….Please don't destroy the ship...If I come back and see a single scratch on my masterpiece...” (As he goes on, the requests become less sobby and more intimidating, the cyborg’s presence becoming more menacing with every word.)

Neither of them admit how genuinely unnerved they are.

Just a few hours later they land. The majority of the Straw Hats disembark, twirling their bags and skipping across the sand.

Zoro and Sanji turn to one another, turn up their noses, and take opposite sides of the ship.

—

Zoro’s hunkered down in his usual spot in the crow’s nest, and Sanji’s settled himself in the observation room at the back of the ship.

And they’re both, somehow, mad about it.

Zoro rarely goes out of his way to spend time with the cook, but rarely is it actually awful. They can get along, when needed. It’s a precarious sort of getting along that can go sour at any moment, but when it doesn’t, he actually quite enjoys the blonde’s company.

Recently, though, it seems more precarious than usual. He’s content to split the ship and avoid each other unless absolutely necessary.

Even if he’s still curious what the hell has the cook acting so hot and cold.

Even if he won’t admit that a small part of him has already begun to miss when they could coexist without violence becoming an expectation.

Even if-

Bah. Zoro shakes his head, staring back out the window on his guard.

—

Sanji’s not doing much better.

Part of him knows he’s being unfair. Zoro is annoying, as per usual- but he hasn’t been more annoying than usual.

He’s just been annoying Sanji more than usual.

It makes sense in his head.

Sanji plants himself on a chair in the observation room, looking south with a frown. Things had just become…complicated. Zoro hadn’t really changed, but he had.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that- or maybe it’s all that he went through in Whole Cake- or both. But he’d changed a bit, and his outlook on the crew had, too.

He’d felt strangely about much of the crew after his return, especially with many of them not getting to see exactly what had gone on. He wasn’t sure how they felt about him now, mainly- but he was slowly trying to figure that out. And for the most part, so far, it’d shown him that each and every one of them was graciously understanding, and kind. And he was trying to be a bit kinder to himself now, too.

One of the only people he’d been unsure about had been Zoro, obviously. And the odd feelings his time away had stirred up certainly hadn’t helped that.

Sanji's thoughts are abruptly thrown to the side as he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. He frowns, bracing the window ledge and staring out across the seafoam-green waters- yes, there is something there, he thinks. The smallest speck of something on the horizon. He can't make it out, but the telescope usually kept here was taken up to the crow's nest last night for Robin's stargazing club (recently formed).

He huffs, treading out of the observation room and across the deck, towards the crow’s nest ladder. He supposes he should tell Zoro about it, anyway.

“Hey, mosshead.” He starts as he slips up through the hatch.

Zoro is at the window, pointing the telescope the opposite way Sanji had been stationed.

Sanji internally appreciates the little bit of trust Zoro shows in the action.

Zoro turns to frown at him. “Aren't you supposed to be watching your post?”

Well, maybe not.

Sanji rolls his eyes. “I saw something. Move the telescope to face south, I couldn't tell what it was.”

“Don't order me around.” Zoro says, whilst simultaneously lifting the small tripod across the room. He sets it down and sticks his good eye to the glass again, ignoring Sanji's lunge to do it first.

He squints, even though he only has one eye to look out of in the first place. Sanji scoffs a chuckle at him. Then forces a frown to his face, because it sounded a bit too affectionate for his liking.

“There's nothing there, cook.”

Now the frown is less artificial.

“Yes there is. Move over.” He kicks Zoro's shin, and the swordsman moves aside with a pointed growl.

But when Sanji puts his eye to the spyglass, he finds that he can't find it, either. He sways it left and right, searching the horizon- but there's not a speck of danger.

“What the hell? There was something there! It looked like…I don't know, like a dinghy, maybe. Small. But it was there.”

He's still swiveling the telescope left and right, but Zoro's deemed it a false alarm- sticking a finger in his ear and stretching as he turns away from the cook and back to his spot by the bench.

“You sure you got both eyes under there, eyebrows?”

Samji turns to give him the finger. “They're both in working order, thank you, unlike you- Green Cyclops.”

“Green-? At least I lack depth perception by necessity; you just have a pretty boy haircut to stop people from getting dizzy looking at your face.”

‘Pretty boy!?

Anger. Anger and violence. Surely, this is the ideal way to deal with the emotions curling in his gut right now.

Sanji kicks Zoro straight in the chest, knocking him against the back window again. Zoro's following scowl takes up so much of his face that Sanji's sure it'll get stuck that way. He reaches for his swords even though the crow's nest is by and large the worst place they've decided to pick a fight yet.

But something thunks on the deck.

They stop before they even start, looking at each other with raised brows. Then they're both flying down the ladder, in sync and efficient, landing in a duo of flame and steel and scrutinizing, intimidating looks that would send any marine worth their salt running for the hills.

Though some marines are stupid enough to just not care.

“Shit, I thought you said there'd only be one person on the ship?”

Something heavy clinks on Zoro's wrist.

“Huh-?”

“I only have one pair of handcuffs!”

Zoro looks down and then behind him. There’s someone there- a woman with short, dye-blonde tips and bags under her eyes is peeking out from behind the mast, and she's just locked a cuff on Zoro's right arm.

They meet wide eyes in shock, and then Zoro's turn to a glare. A very scary, very intimidating glare.

The intimidating look works this time.

“Uh, Mosby?” She whimpers.

“Improvise!” Comes another woman's voice, her kinky hair buzzed short and her marine uniform a few sizes too big for her wiry frame. She's standing in front of Sanji, who's floundering at both of their attackers being women. She takes the opportunity to kick Sanji in the gut, sending him careening into Zoro. The swordsman sputters.

“Tino! The- Yea, use the-!”

Another clink. This one over Sanji’s left wrist.

Tino steps back, dusting her hands off proudly. “Ha ha. Take that, pirates.”

Mosby seems a bit less confident- maybe a bit less dumb- her face falling as Zoro and Sanji catch their balance, standing again. They're not that much shorter than the infamous pair before them, but they certainly feel that way when they realize they have two half-handcuffed, super pissed, billion bounty pirates ready to kick both their asses.

“Tino.”

“Ha- What? What-”

She looks. She frowns. She swallows.

Before Sanji can object, Zoro is launching towards the blonde.

“MOSBY! MOSBY, DO THE THING-!”

The other woman throws a smoke bomb- or, what they think is a smoke bomb-

And then everything goes black.

—

Zoro wakes with a groan. He’s unable to tell if it’s his own, or the poor sap tied up behind him.

When the poor sap tied up behind him harshly elbows him and the sound titters, he realizes the one making it is him.

And the poor sap tied up behind him is Sanji, judging from the irritating curses falling on his ears.

And they’re not tied up, he realizes as he tugs on his wrists. They’re handcuffed together.

Twice.

“What the hell?”

He pulls on their bounds left and then right, jerking his shoulders, but it’s no use. He wants to be pissed, but he’s almost impressed. Those two idiots actually managed to catch them (no thanks to the cook), and they’d finagled the two of them into being bound against each other’s backs in a pair of sea-prism handcuffs over opposite arms. In a laughable juxtaposition, their other wrists are bound in only a normal set of handcuffs they probably found somewhere on the ship- though Zoro’d rather not think too hard on why they had any on board. The two sets of cuffs are crossed diagonally to restrict their movement as much as possible.

They’re perfectly poised to be set upon the railroad tracks and left for ransom, basically.

“Great.” Zoro mutters. “Looks like we got caught by Jesse and James.” He pauses. “More like Jesse and Jesse.

“We have bigger problems than that, marimo.” Sanji grumbles. “Look around you.”

He does so. They’re tied at the mouth of a cave, high up and overlooking the desolate grey slate of the island they’ve found themselves on. Docked below he can see the Sunny, woefully out of place and decidedly not parked at the lovely port of the tropical island he remembers.

“How the hell did we get here?”

“Uh, we stole your ship, dude.”

They both turn to find one of the women from before. She grins mischievously at them as she rises out of the cave’s shadow. “You’ve been commandered.”

The other woman walks up beside her, taking the marine cap from her buzzed head and dusting it off with a frown. “Commandeered, darling.”

“Yes, that.”

“What do you want with us?” Sanji asks. Women or not, he’ll still take a sharp tone with an enemy- and allowing the whole ship to be stolen is quite the grievous failure on their part. Zoro can feel his frustration from here.

“What do you think? We’re marines. We’re arresting you.” Answers the blonde- Tino, they’ve gathered.

Sanji yanks on the weaker pair of handcuffs. It’s not sea prism stone- but the metal does seem reinforced. Must be Franky’s work. Great.

“Hell of an arrest if I’ve ever seen one. You usually steal ships and take your prisoners to a deserted island with a crew of two?”

He’s right. Zoro eyes them both. Young, no older than they are. Scraggly, nervous. No bars on their uniforms. They smell faintly of alcohol.

“You’re cadets.” The swordsman says.

“We’re privates!” Tino cries. Mosby places a placating hand on her shoulder.

“Okay, you caught us. We’re in a bit of a bind.”

“Mosby-!”

“We may or may not have gotten…lost, at our last post. We’re definitely in for some hardcore punishment once our troop leader finds us. Unless we impress him, that is.”

Zoro hears ‘lost’ and knows they mean drunk. They’re two words that he’s very familiar with.

‘I’m a little impressed.’ Zoro thinks bitterly.

“How’d you get on board?” Sanji asks. He’s irritated, but Zoro can tell he’s curious too.

“Well…” Tino trails off.

Mosby picks up her place. “All we had with us from our last post was a dinghy, a pair of cuffs, and a rifle. At one point, we also had a harpoon gun.”

There’s a pause. “…We no longer have a harpoon gun.”

Tino looks a bit sick.

Sanji’s mind is reeling with questions- most prominently, if they were the little dinghy he’d seen at the end of the horizon. They’d been so far off that there shouldn’t be any way they’d gotten to the ship that quickly, and yet…

“Looks like we got a lucky break, though. Catching some Straw Hats should be a great way to get us back in our platoon leader’s favor. They’re on their way here right now.” Mosby continues. Tino suddenly pulls three saya from behind her back- Zoro’s swords.

That takes any bit of amusement Zoro’s had in the situation right out of him. Sanji gasps when Zoro jerks them both forward, practically growling. “Give those back.”

Tino steps back, holding them above her head with a grin. “Sorry! These have been confiscated. I’ve always wanted to learn sword fighting…” She looks Wado over, holding it with not near as much reverence as the sword deserves.

Sanji interrupts with a yank back towards the wall, attempting to get Zoro to keep his cool. “Look. I’m sure you ladies deserve a lovely promotion, but-” Zoro nearly topples them over and Sanji just barely yanks him back with a grunt. “I think you may be in a little over your heads.”

“You underestimating us, pretty boy?”

Why does everyone keep calling him that?

“Of course not! I’m just saying that-”

Zoro stands them both up off the ground without warning, lunging at Tino with a growl. Tino jumps back, Mosby darts out of the way, Sanji gets dragged along after him- and the four of them stumble further back into the cave. The precarious situation quickly falls to the off-balance mayhem that it should have been from the start: two marines that are in way over their heads at the prospect of housing some of the biggest powerhouses in the pirate world.

“Hand them back now and nobody has to get hurt.” Zoro hisses. Tino and Mosby have stumbled to the back end of the cave, awkwardly stepping around the edges for some reason. It gives Zoro the opportunity to catch up. He takes two confident steps forward, Sanji wriggling and cursing at him to calm down and let them go from his back. Tino and Mosby’s eyes widen in what he assumes is fear. He grins, sure he’ll be able to intimidate them into handing them over without a fight. Hell, for all his bark, even Zoro isn’t gonna beat the shit out of a couple newbie marines who obviously can’t hope to win.

But then they both put their hands out, gesturing for him to stop. They shake their heads and cry out, and it seems a bit overkill, even for him. Nonetheless, he takes another step forward to knock some sense into the both of them, literally or not-

Only for his foot to fall through old, rotten wood. In a flash, he’s falling through the air, dragging Sanji down with him, black rock rushing past his face, the marines’ cries calling after him from above. Sanji screams, Zoro blinks, and the two of them pull each other in opposing directions as they try to make sense of the fall.

At the last second, as Zoro tries to slow their descent with a desperate lunge against the bedrock, Sanji kicks them down, turning his body to fall first.

Zoro finds himself staring up at the shoot above them, Tino and Mosby’s distraught faces becoming smaller and smaller as they fall. Rocks begin to tumble in after them. He wrenches his head over his shoulder, no stranger to Sanji’s tendency to take one for the team, as it were.

“COOK!”

But it’s too late. With a clang and a sickening crunching sound, they hit the ground. It still knocks the wind out of the swordsman, but Sanji’s taken the brunt of the fall.

The fall which doesn’t seem quite done yet, apparently. They must have disrupted the delicate arrangement of the cave, because the rocks that started falling after them are rapidly approaching. Zoro’s haki alerts him quickly enough to roll them both out of the way, even as his chest burns and the gash in his arm rolls into the pebbles of the cave floor.

They land just out of the cave-in’s destruction. In a domino effect no one saw coming, Zoro’s misstep seems to not only have found them a hundred feet underground, but trapped by a total structural collapse worsened with every rock divulged.

He stares for just a moment as the dust settles, the sound of his breathing suddenly catching up to his ears.

Finally out of fight or flight, Zoro realizes two things:

They’re in what looks to be an abandoned mineshaft of some kind, judging by the dusty wooden planks beneath them and the poorly lit lanterns overhead.

He has no idea if Sanji survived that.

“Cook?” Zoro asks, sitting up as hurriedly as he can. He wrenches his head over his shoulder, where he can make out Sanji’s haggard profile. The genuine distraughtness that runs through him is a harrowing wake up call he had not expected to feel today. Especially not towards the cook. It’s bloodchilling how much he starts to realize the amount he actually cares for the other man when faced with his entirely possible demise.

Luckily, Sanji coughs, hacking on dust and attempting to get his breaths in a row. Zoro will never mention to him the relief he feels in that moment.

“Shit…” Sanji gets out, voice rough and haggard. He coughs again and shakes his head, regaining himself.

The relief Zoro feels warms his chest for all of three seconds before he realizes how pissed he is.

“Why the hell did you do that!?”

Sanji begins to reply; Zoro doesn’t listen. He’s too distracted by what he spots next. He can’t see Sanji fully from the angle they’re at, but he happens to catch a glance at the cook’s legs and feels his stomach drop all over again.

“What the hell did you do to your legs?”

Sanji pauses, growing increasingly frustrated with Zoro’s chastising demands and interruptions. He turns, more to express his frustration than anything, but when they’re both turned around over their shoulders, it gives him a view of the horrified look on Zoro’s face. The other man’s concern doesn’t take him by surprise, per se, but he isn't so used to seeing Zoro be blatant about his feelings for the crew. Especially for him.

The blonde huffs a sigh, lifting one jagged leg, bent in three places like a glowstick. He begins to bang it against the ground as he explains, Zoro’s eyes growing wider at the sound of a metal exoskeleton straightening itself out.

“You were there in Wano when I was fighting Queen, weren’t you? The first time around, when we were all watching for Luffy on the roof.” He continues the rhythmic banging of his leg against the mineshaft floor, the appendage gradually knocking itself back into shape.

“Yeah. Wasn’t paying much attention, though.” Zoro says, his concern quickly melding to confusion upon realizing the cook seems to be…’alright.’ He’s quick to switch out the care on his face once he’s determined he can look aloof again. Sanji notices, of course. It makes him grin to himself.

“‘Course you weren’t.” He’s quiet for a second, the metallic drumming on his other leg, now. “It’s Germa tech. Don’t think about it too hard.”

“...This related to the call you gave me?”

Clang. Clang. Clang.

“Yeah.”

Clang.

“It is.”

Without allowing for any further development to that train of conversation, the cook moves to stand, jerking Zoro up with him.

“Warn me first, jackass. You sure you’re good to stand already?” Zoro’s peeking around at Sanji’s legs with a judgemental gaze. The mother hen look doesn’t look good on the moss. He kicks at him halfheartedly, looking around instead.

They’re at a junction of the mineshaft. Behind them, the coal-black rocks of the cave-in slot together like chaotic building blocks, all shapes and sizes and yet entirely comprehensive. Sanji tsks.

“Well, we aren’t skywalking out of here.” He looks the other way, where the path splits into two equally dark and nondescript paths. Wood slats sit horizontally along the ground, proof this place was once indeed inhabited. Once in a while a metal arch braces the dirt and rock, though with how easily the shaft failed earlier, they’re anything but reassuring. The lanterns that hang along the right edge of the ceiling barely provide any light, but it’s honestly impressive they’re working at all.

There’s an aggravating tug at his wrists as Zoro tries to look at something else. “If this used to be a mineshaft, there’s gotta be another exit. Who puts the only way in at the top of the mountain?” He asks.

Sanji knows next to nothing about how mining works, but unfortunately he’s not so sure that’s impossible. “Hold on. Let’s take stock of what we’re working with here.”

He eyes their wrists again, best he can with how they’re cramped between his and Zoro’s backsides. The sea prism handcuffs are a no-go; they’ve learned from experience that the key is the only way to unlock the bastards. The metal cuffs are Franky-fied, which could be an issue, but it’s still more promising than-

Sanji yipes as his wrists are pulled aside and wrenched down over a stalagmite.

“Hey!” His voice is a bit more genuinely pissed than usual. “Watch my hands, asshole!”

“They’ll be fine.” Zoro says, trying to wedge the nubby top of the stone in between the chains of the metal cuffs. “If we’re gonna be stuck down here, I’m not gonna spend it tied to you.”

Zoro tries to sink them both down, quickly, forcefully- but all it seems to be doing is putting bruises on their wrists.

“I said watch it!” Sanji yanks them off of it just as quickly, his frustration palpable. He expects the swordsman to protest at least a little, but after a glance at red marks on Sanji’s wrists he’s surprisingly silent. Sanji huffs anyway.

“Look, it’s not the end of the world. If we end up in trouble, my legs are still free. I can still fight.”

‘To some extent.’ Sanji thinks bitterly, imagining trying to drag around Zoro’s stupid bulk-muscle weight. He’s hoping they’ll miss the marines arrival entirely what with the exit being blocked off, but they do still…

“I need to get my swords back.”

Yes, that.

“You’re a few steps ahead, mossball. We have to get out of here first.”

“So I’m just supposed to rely on you for everything?”

Sanji gets a devilish smile on his face. It’s a shame Zoro can’t even see it. “Guess so, marimo~!”

(The singsong teasing of his voice makes up for it).

“Great.” Zoro mutters, starting to walk towards the left tunnel. Sanji immediately yanks them to the right. “I’m supposed to rely on the guy who couldn’t even kick a couple marines aside, and look where that got us.”

“You know damn well why I couldn’t hit them!”

“No, I know why you wouldn’t hit them. Not the same thing.”

“Are you saying this was my fault?”

“Yes!”

The bulging veins on his forehead are practically palpable. “You think I wanted this to happen!? We let them steal the Sunny!” Like on a dime, he wilts, his voice becoming pathetic. “Nami’s gonna be so disappointed…”

“We? That was all you! Just like it’s your fault my swords are up there in the hands of those dimwits.”

Sanji yanks on him again as he leads them down the mineshaft. “Don’t call women dimwits, dimwit. Besides, don’t you think we have more important things to worry about? Like, I dunno, how we’re gonna feed ourselves?”

“How long do you think we’ll be stuck down here?”

Sanji looks dead ahead, avoiding Zoro’s gaze. “You’d be surprised how long you can end up stranded somewhere.”

He can sense the cook’s talking about something else. It’s quiet for a moment too long, and then Zoro trips over a rock. Walking backwards is making this entire experience even more frustrating than it already was.

“Why am I the one in the back?”

“Because if I let you lead we’ll end up even more lost than we already are.”

“Yeah right! Like you know where you’re going!

The conversation devolves, similar caliber insults and meaningless drabble. The two of them descend into the unknown, Sanji leading them ahead and Zoro watching their backs, the both of them more stressed about the entire ordeal than they’d like to let on.

—

The close contact with Zoro is bothering him. Zoro’s back is all sweaty against his arms, their fingers keep knocking together, and every once in a while Zoro will misstep in his backwards trudge and knock their backs flat against one another.

He hates how much he doesn’t hate it at all.

Zoro’s such an idiot sometimes. He’s smart- everyone on the crew is, in their own ways. Zoro’s smart about battle, and he’s smart about math, and he’s smart about distance. He’s good at distancing himself where he needs to- or at least, thinks he needs to- to be the rock for the crew. He’s somehow found that sweet spot of letting them all know how much he cares (so much) while still being the least social person on the ship.

Sanji envies that.

He can’t be distant about anything, save his own secrets. And even that had gotten aired out- loudly and dangerously- not just to the crew, but the whole world.

He falls in love like it’s taking breaths. Every damn day, multiple times a day, and hard every time. Is it performative? Yes, maybe. Is it fake? No. His heart is full of love as much as it’s full of kindness, and after his talk with Reiju, he’ll never see either as something to regret. In fact, he fully embraces it.

So why won’t he just allow himself to realize that-?

Zoro sneezes loudly.

He can’t cover his mouth, so he probably just spit all his moss-germs into the air. It's damp and unventilated down here, so that bacteria will probably never leave this cave system. Nasty. It’ll probably attach to the walls and start growing sentience. Then it’ll spread and take over the whole mine. Humanity’s only saving grace will be that the sentient algae will have no sense of direction, so it’ll probably never make it out to start teaching itself swordsmanship-

Zoro’s voice cuts through his attempt at distracting himself. “You alright? You’ve been quiet for over an hour.”

Sanji shakes himself out of his thoughts. “I’m fine. Not exactly much to talk about.”

“You didn’t say anything when I sneezed.”

“Gesundheit?”

“Tch.”

Sanji rolls his eyes.

…But he’s dumb. He’ll get lost following a straight line, he can’t solve anything more complicated than a crossword, and his booksmarts won’t win him any awards.

Funny how those hardly even bother Sanji anymore. They’re entertaining to poke fun at him with, things Sanji loves to use to tease. But if anything they’re just character traits, just things Sanji notices, things he frankly laughs at now-

No. Wait. This wasn’t what the train of thought he was meant to be having.

He’s gross.

Sweaty, usually. He doesn’t actually smell that bad most of the time- but Sanji tells him so anyway, because showering once a week is nonetheless unacceptable. Half the time he forgets to wash his hands, and when he works out he sweats like a pig and it probably all soaks into the crow’s nest floor. It’s revolting. They should deep clean the thing once a month. No, once a week. A day.

Hell, they should start kicking Zoro into the baths more often. But then he’d have to see him in there, and Zoro’d give him a hard time, and Sanji’d give him a hard time back, and he wouldn’t even do a good job at his part of their social dance because he’d be too busy trying to avoid staring at how handsome the idiot is-

Damn it.

“Emeralds.” Zoro’s voice cuts through the silence again. Aloof, impassive. Undescriptive.

“What?”

Sanji feels the slight tug of Zoro’s head gesturing to the side. “They were mining emeralds down here. There’s still some stuck in the wall.” He goes to point, momentarily forgetting his hands are bound. They tickle against Sanji’s, comparatively large and rough.

“Wonder why they left.”

“I’unno. There’s some in that basket there, too.”

That peaks Sanji’s interest. He stops, backing up in a way that makes Zoro lurch forward with a frown. “We should grab some for Nami!”

“She doesn’t need any more jewels.” He mumbles, but he’s nonetheless aiding Sanji in walking over to the old wicker basket rotting into the ground. Of course, they have no real way of picking them up…

“Bend down with me.” Sanji says. Zoro complies, rolling his eyes as he does so. Sanji gets them both in an awkward squat, leaning his fingers over the basket and dipping ever lower as he tries to get just one into his fingertips.

“Geez, cook, I don’t fold like you do!”

Sanji rolls his eyes at that, dipping just a bit lower and coaxing Zoro into a low squat the man is gritting his teeth over. He got his prize, however- a coin-sized crystal tucked in his hand. He eyes it over his shoulder, grinning as he slips it into his back pocket. If his fingers accidentally brush against Zoro’s backside, neither of them mention it.

He eyes the other emeralds left behind as they stand, back on track to nowhere. Sanji chuckles. “You sure you don’t want one? They match your hair.” He jeers.

“I don’t want any of your stupid rocks.”

Sanji snickers anyway, but his eyes linger on the jewels a little longer than necessary. They really do match his hair. More than moss does. More than grass. Has his hair always been such a bright hue? Has it really always been that pretty?

Recently, his mind has apparently decided yes-

Sanji stops his train of thought once more, gritting his teeth at the weird look he can feel Zoro giving him. Damn haki.

“The mining gear is getting more frequent.” He says instead, hoping to distract. “Looks like we’re getting to a more prevalent part of the mine.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve been staring at the same place we’ve already been for the past two hours.” Zoro growls.

“Wait. I see something up ahead.”

“Huh? What, what is it?”

“Hold on…” Sanji takes a few more steps, squinting his eyes. “...Is that a minecart?”

Zoro plants his feet hard on the ground, leaning forward to take Sanji off balance.

“HEY!”

The swordsman heaves Sanji onto his back without warning, taking the opportunity to work as their only pair of legs as Sanji’s are lifted in the air, kicking and screaming. The green-haired man turns and catches sight of his target, running towards it like a dog on the hunt.

“PUT ME DOWN, ASSHOLE!”

The asshole is, of course, not listening. Zoro beelines it for the cart, taking in the view around them as he goes. Sanji was right, the evidence of former human presence here really picks up the further they go. As he approaches the small open cavern where the minecart rests, more abandoned baskets, crates, tools, and lanterns lay cast about. The emeralds catch his attention for a moment, prompting a glance over at Sanji’s wriggling (and yelling) form. Zoro looks wordlessly for only a moment, Sanji oblivious to his gaze, before he takes stock of where the minecart leads.

In just a few feet the tracks begin down a menial slope, before gradually growing steeper. It leads into darkness. The only other path forward is bare, and seems to come to a deadend eventually.

Zoro’s choice is made.

“MOSSHEAD! IDIOT! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME? PUT ME- Hey, what are you doing?” His voice is quieter, though no less concerned.

Zoro is lifting one leg to place them into the mining car, tottering slightly at the unwieldy (though still quite light) weight of the cook on his back. His hands aren’t free to steady himself on the sides of the cart, so they half jump, half fall into the cart, Sanji’s protests continuing the whole time.

Once they’re in, Zoro looks around, aloof to the cook’s misery.

“Is this your plan?” Sanji asks, now aggravated and unimpressed. “We just sit in this motionless, abandoned minecart until somebody finds our sorry asses?”

Zoro leans back, pushing Sanji forward. Sanji tuts. Zoro’s broad back presses him nearly against the floor, and in between the frustration and the incredulity, Sanji blushes.

Then Zoro shoots back the way he came, the momentum rushing Sanji’s bangs past his face and sending the minecart rocking forward from their weight.

It squeaks.

Then it moves forward just a few inches.

Before the slight slope catches it, and it begins to fall down the gradual incline.

Sanji won’t admit he’s impressed.

“Great. Do you even know where this leads?”

Zoro shrugs, his shoulders nudging Sanji’s in a casual, too-familiar way. “Nope. But it’s the only way forward, and it’ll be faster than your snail’s pace.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t walk so slow if I didn’t have a backpack of dead weight and plant matter constantly dragging its heels on the ground.” He shoots back, chewing his lip venomously.

“I wouldn’t trip so much if you could just walk straight!”

“I can’t walk straight? You can’t even-! Oh, whatever. I’m not going to argue with you if I have to sit here and listen to your bullshit without the opportunity to kick your ass.” He grumbles, eyeing his pocket. “I miss my damn cigarettes.” He whines.

“Must be going through a hell of a withdrawal if you can’t even fight me properly.” Zoro muses, though it’s more of a silent accusation. Withdrawal his ass. Sanji’s strange behavior hasn’t stopped, and in fact, has possibly gotten worse. Even with the hot and cold, the most damning new appearance has been Sanji’s desperate glances, short and barely visible with the way they're situated and yet still so poignant. Zoro’s stumped.

Maybe he’d stew on the thought a bit longer if they didn’t have something else to worry about.

“Oi, Zoro. Your genius plan is starting to give me doubts.”

Zoro watches from his end the way the cart begins compounding speed as it falls down the steeper part of the tracks. He grins. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Curly.”

Sanji watches the track disappearing behind them faster and faster, the seconds between the rail slats blurrier and blurrier. “Aren’t we going a little fast? How do you plan on stopping this thing if we start coming towards a dead end?”

“We’ll figure something out.”

Sanji hates that the smirk is audible in his voice. Is he doing this just to mess with him? Because it’s working, in more ways than one.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Luffy.”

“Look, they used these things to transport the emeralds outta the mine, right? So this should take us right to the exit, and it’ll do it fast.” They bounce over a hill, landing on the far side of it with a clang and increasing in speed even more as they fall down its incline.

Sanji tries to look over his shoulder to the front of the car, groaning as his limited gaze is greeted only with rock walls rushing by. “Merde, help me find the brake on this thing.”

“I already checked; it’s on the outside. We don’t need it yet, keep your pants on.”

Sanji glances around the outside of the cart, trying to find what on earth Zoro is talking about. When he does, he nearly flips his lid.

“It’s near the bottom of the car, right by the wheels, and our hands are tied up! How the hell do you expect to reach it!?” He fumes.

“Your long ass legs can reach it fine! Besides, it’s-” He stops. Which in Zoro, is never a good sign.

Sanji feels the kiss of heat hit the back of his head.

“…Mosshead. Why’s it so warm in here all of a sudden?” He doesn’t turn around and attempt to look, because he’s positive he won’t like what he sees there.

“Huh. Think I figured out why they abandoned the place.”

As he says this, they rush into a large open space, the lighting orange and fiery against the rock walls.

Sanji watches in horror as the image rushing by under the slats of the tracks stop being rock and begin sailing instead over lava, red and bubbling.

“I’m going to kill you.” Sanji says, before Zoro starts tittering and reeling back.

Sanji raises an eyebrow. Surely Zoro wasn’t frightened by his words. So what the hell is worrying enough to have the mossball reeling?

“Zoro?”

“Change of plan, hit the brakes!” Zoro says tensely, turning the two of them around so Sanji’s facing the front. Once the cook’s facing the way they’re headed, he sees the answer to all his previous questions.

They’ve just reached the precipice of a steep hill, at the bottom of which is a sharp turn upwards into nothingness. The tracks end, black singe marks hinting at where a blast of lava must have burned them away.

Sanji’s whole face drops in terror and then is immediately replaced with burning rage.

“THE BRAKES AREN’T GONNA DO SHIT AT THIS POINT, BLOCKHEAD!” He shouts, wriggling in place as it's all he can do instead of beating the shit out of the other man. Zoro shouts something back but Sanji’s stopped listening; the mine car has begun its descent and is gaining speed as it whirls towards the end of the line, its inevitable destination being straight into the lava below.

The brake wouldn’t do shit, but there’s no time for it now, anyway.

Sanji’s yelling. Zoro’s shouting back. They’re both wriggling in their holds, only able to watch as the reflection of the lava in each of their singular eyes grows brighter and brighter.

The mine car flies off the rails, barreling into empty space.

Then it falls into the soup of the lava, a gush of orange magma jumping up so high from the velocity of the car that it singes more rock and metal on its way up.

But the wings do not join it.

The two of them are jumping through the air- or rather, Sanji is. He takes one quick-footed step after another, the force of his downward kicks enough to keep the two of them alight- though Zoro’s end dips down a bit with each release, his legs kicking and flailing wildly as he watches the lava approach, then recede, step after step.

He doesn’t even realize what’s happening, with Sanji out of his eyesight. Then every so often he’ll hear the sound of air compressed underfoot, and the glimpse of a well-polished dress shoe. It feels like he’s on a carnival ride from hell, and his stomach flips- probably only compounding with the fear of death from just moments earlier.

They land on a rocky outcrop just moments later, a couple hundred feet away from where their transportation met its demise. Once their feet are back on the ground, Zoro takes a deep breath, synching up with the adrenaline-filled breaths of the cook.

The lava pool where their mine car fell bubbles and pops with expert timing.

Then he starts laughing.

Sanji, chest still rising and falling with big breaths, stops to turn. “We almost just died! What the hell is wrong with you!?”

Zoro doesn’t answer, just laughs more- loud and raucous and boisterous in a way Sanji hasn’t seen him in a long time. He has every right to be pissed: this was all Zoro’s fault in the first place. But yet…

Catching sight of the way Zoro’s eyes wrinkle and his mouth falls wide in a grin, the sound of that nostalgic laughter he swears has been fading since the two years had gone by, the feeling of warmth and energy bouncing against his back as Zoro carries on-

Well.

He turns his head away and hides a grin, unable to calm his heart or his mind at the traitorous realizations of just how in love he is.

—

Following the tracks that continue after the lava pool leads them to a part of the mine apparently worse for wear than the rest- it shows its age in the way the lights begin to dim as they follow them, and eventually, whatever energy source had been keeping the rest of the mine lit gives up entirely after a turn down a long hallway. They’re met by pitch black darkness.

“Damn. Could really use some of that lava right about now.” Zoro says.

It takes everything in him not to kick his ankle out. “Shut up.” Without a word, Sanji sets his foot aflame, diable jambe lighting the way with each step they take.

“Hey, watch it!” Zoro complains, leaning his own legs away as best he can from the heat. He can feel it, and it’s hot. He’s been hit by it before plenty of times, and never once has it been pleasant- but he’d especially like to keep his own pants from being set on fire, thank you very much.

Nevertheless, Zoro can’t help but think about the fiery man in front of him as he’s once again dragged down a sightless mineshaft.

That was twice now Sanji had saved his life. He’d protected him in the fall, and he’d saved their asses when Zoro’s plan had gone awry. Of course he’d never say thank you, but…The situation was certainly giving him a new appreciation for the cook. Swordless and handcuffed, he was practically a sitting duck- it wasn’t much unlike when he was tied up at the stake back in Shellstown, and Luffy had had to rescue him. At least now he was mobile, but if trouble were to come around…Zoro hates to admit he’d have to rely entirely on Sanji to protect him. He hates to admit even more that he feels completely sound in his safety should that scenario come true.

They’ve been walking in silence for quite a while when Zoro speaks up.

“...Cook.” The nickname leaves his mouth before he can think about it, and he has half the mind to curse himself for what he’s about to ask.

“What?” Sanji asks, short and already sounding annoyed.

He pauses again, chewing the words in his mouth for almost too long.

“I have a favor to ask of you.”

That makes Sanji almost stop in his tracks- but after just a momentary stumble he continues in that gruff voice of his, acting as casual as he can.

“Yea? What is it?”

Zoro can tell the cook’s itching for a cigarette by the way his hand twitches at his back pocket, even though he has no way to take a drag off one. It’s almost cute, but he’s too nervous to think so.

“Once we get out of here, I need you to help me get my swords back.”

Sanji does stop, then. “Is that all?”

“Yeah. That’s all.”

Sanji gives a fond grin, and he doesn’t hold it back, knowing that Zoro can’t see his face. He’s not entirely sure it doesn’t seep into his words, though.

“I was gonna do that whether you asked me or not, idiot. You’ve been annoying me about it all day.”

Oh yeah, it definitely seeps into his words. Sanji frowns then, pink rising to his cheeks as he bites on his lip in an attempt to condition himself.

Zoro’s quiet. Sanji continues them onwards- and he speeds up a little, too.

The swordsman must be miserable, stuck in a position where they have only Sanji’s strengths to pull from. If his legs were bound and Zoro was the only one around to help him out, he might jump ship. And his pride was only half as delicate as the swordsmans, if you asked him.

But those swords were damn important to the man, and Sanji knew that. He didn’t know why, he didn’t know Zoro’s whole story, and he didn’t know why he valued the white one so reverently out of the three, but he knew they were irreplaceable. Of course he’d help. Of course.

After another hour's worth of wandering the mines, they decide to stop and rest for a bit. Time sensitive mission or not, they’d both been without food or sleep for hours now, and it was starting to show. They’d have a quick nap, and then they’d be back to it.

Sanji nestles them down against the rock wall on a flat area of the ground, putting out his diable jambe even though it leaves them in total darkness.

The ensuing conversation isn’t anything like they’ve had before, and maybe it’s only possible miles underground, miles away from the crew- when it’s just the two of them and the unspoken truths they’ve always known about each other.

They’re both leaning against the wall on their sides, their backs pressed together as always. They’re forced to be close, as they have been this whole journey. Each other’s breathing is the only sound in the hall.

Sanji breaks the silence, feeling the way Zoro startles slightly against him.

“Why are those swords so important to you anyway?”

A scoff. “I’m going to be the world’s greatest swordsman. Of course my swords are important to me.”

“I’m saying, you could always get new swords. You’ve done it before, when you lost Yubashiri.” Sanji knew it wasn’t that simple, but he was fishing for more. More than Zoro seemed willing to give up. Zoro, at the very least, was impressed (or touched?) that Sanji remembered the old blade’s name.

“New swords cost money and time. You can’t just pick up any old blade off the street. Besides, it’s a matter of pride. What kind of swordsman lets his weapons be taken without a fight?”

“You put up a fight alright.” Sanji mumbles, more to himself, thinking of how they got in this mess in the first place. But he follows it up with, “I meant that I can tell they’re special to you. Wado Ichimonji is, at least.”

It takes Zoro by surprise. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard the cook say the name of one of his swords out loud, let alone Wado. He says it with a respectful, quiet reverence that gives Zoro pause. Maybe it’s the little push that makes him spill out his next words.

“...It belonged to a friend.”

Huh. He was almost of the mind that Zoro hadn’t had friends, not before Luffy. He’d met Johnny and Yosaku though, so maybe he was giving the swordsman too much of a hard time.

“Like Luffy’s hat?” He hears himself asking.

Zoro shakes his head. “No. She’d never give it to me willingly.” He says, chuckling. And before Sanji can react to the fact Zoro’s friend had been a she, the swordsman is continuing on. “She died when we were younger.”

Oh.

“...Sorry to hear that.”

“I don’t want your pity, cook.” But it’s said softly. A pathetic attempt to keep up their usual ruse.

“It’s called sympathy, dumbass.” Sanji says back, just as softly- it’s almost a whisper.

There’s silence for a moment, and Sanji thinks that’s all he’ll be getting tonight.

“You remind me of her, sometimes.” And it’s said with a bit of humor.

Sanji quirks a brow. “I do?” That seems a great honor, somehow. Is this some kind of grand, quiet compliment? Sanji listens closely, going still.

“Yea. She was my rival. ‘Cept she always beat me, which you could never do.” Zoro teases. Sanji jabs him with his elbow halfheartedly.

“I’m your rival, am I?”

“Call it whatever you want. Most of all, you’re a pain in my ass.”

Only between the two of them can that be sweet. Sanji just scoffs, but on his face is a smile.

“Why are your swords so important to you?” Zoro mimics, then scoffs back. “Like asking you why food’s so important to you.”

Sanji has half the mind to ask if Zoro even does know that. So he does.

“And why is food so important to me, marimo?”

That seems to shut the mosshead up, which makes Sanji raise an eyebrow. Is he sensing embarrassment?

“Well?” He asks, voice smooth and teasing.

He can practically feel Zoro roll his eyes. “Your dad raised you to cook. It’s clear you're close to him because of that. But,” The swordsman has the urge to nervously itch at his hair, but of course his hands are instead tied against those oh-so-precious hands of the cook himself.

“But I know it’s something more than that. Something from your past.”

Sanji hadn’t told anyone on the crew about his time on the rock. He hadn’t planned on telling anyone about his time with his mother, either.

“Yeah. There’s a couple different reasons why.”

“You should tell me about ‘em some time.” Zoro says, like they’re friends. Which- well. They are. Not that kind of friends, though. Not usually. Of course he follows it up with, “Maybe it’ll explain why you’re so neurotic about it.”

Sanji rolls his eyes. That’s better.

“Speaking of food, aren’t you our cook? Shouldn’t you be finding something to whip up for us by now?”

“With what ingredients, mosshead?”

Zoro snickers, thinking of all the insects he’s seen along the cave floors that Sanji had pointedly avoided. “We could always try eating bugs.” He really only says it to rile Sanji up, and it works.

“Yeah right!” He screeches, his reactive self back in order. He calms himself with a huff after his outburst. “I’m not above it, but we’d have to be damn desperate. I saw some mushrooms growing on the wall over there. Help me up and we’ll gather some.”

—

Of course, cooking is quite a chore when your hands are tied behind your back. Nevertheless, they manage to haphazardly roast the mushrooms over a campfire lit by another diable jambe.

Zoro is stubbornly amused by how good they still manage to taste- like anything the cook touches is magic. Infuriating.

After the food, they decide to take that well deserved power nap before getting back to it. The two of them sit parallel to the wall, neither one able to lay back against it due to their cuffs. As the time passes and they each grow impatient of the discomfort, it’s Zoro who lets his head lull back onto Sanji’s shoulder first.

Sanji’s at first surprised, assuming it to be an attempt from the other to bother him- but when he realizes the man just wants somewhere comfortable to put his head- and he felt comfortable enough with him for that place to be Sanji- the cook finds his heart beating faster and his face turning pink again. He holds his breath, as if that will help at all.

But he should know better than to allow such noticeable tells when Zoro is quite literally tied against him. He’d thought the swordsman asleep, but he grumbles his next words with a sleepy aloofness and a hint of reassurance.

“Relax, cook. It’s just me.”

His words only have the opposite effect to Sanji’s pulse, to Sanji’s blushing cheeks- but Zoro nonetheless falls asleep shortly after. And feeling brave, or maybe just too tired anymore to care himself, Sanji lets his own head fall back against Zoro’s, nodding off with surprising ease.

—

Just as he’s being pulled from the throes of sleep, Sanji’s faced with a dream.

It’s Zoro, leaning back against him as he had the night before. Even though the other man is facing opposite his gaze, he swears he can see the man’s lips move as he asks a simple question.

“Why have you been acting so weird since Wano?” Zoro’s words are quiet, somewhat mumbled, as if he isn’t even sure he should be asking them.

Sanji’s sleepiness affects him even in the dream. In a sloppy, mumbled voice, he mutters, “I think I’m in love with you.” Zoro goes silent.

Sanji belatedly realizes that the words felt a bit too real in his mouth to be a dream. He blinks, waking fully, sweating as he realizes he may have just confessed.

Zoro seems to study him for a moment, but after a strange quietness, they untangle from each other enough to stand. Perhaps Zoro…hadn’t heard him? It’s a comforting thought, and Sanji holds onto it like a lifeline.

But just as they begin making movement, a commanding voice calls out from the darkness, a sea of flashlights soon whipping around to illuminate them like a spotlight.

“FOUND THEM! ALERT THE OTHER SEARCH PARTIES!”

Shit.

—

“Tell me again how we got into this situation?” Zoro yells, his wriggling incessant against the other man’s back.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Sanji hisses. And if the idiot didn’t stop jerking around, he swore he was going to consider stopping their escape, parking his back to the marines, and letting Zoro take all the bullets for the both of them.

He skids around another poorly lit corner of the mineshaft. Carrying Zoro like a stupid, oversized worm of a backpack was not helping his speed or coordination whatsoever, but he was more or less the legs of this operation. In various ways.

“Just focus on not getting us killed, would you?” Zoro snarks, leaning his head towards Sanji as best he can at the odd angle.

A marine with a giant pickaxe for a hand rounds the corner behind them, eyes eager and wild. Must be the leader of the group. Sanji tsks as he rolls his shoulder, trying to get Zoro’s breath off his ear.

He takes another turn in the beat-up pathway, skidding to a stop when they’re met with a dead end. He turns, curses, and watches the meager bit of light spilling down the cavern become eclipsed by the marine’s shadow. A gaggle of grunts soon come in behind him.

“What? What’s going on?” Zoro demands, turning this way and that as he tries to see over Sanji’s shoulder.

“We’re fighting.” Sanji says, lighting his leg aglow with Diable Jambe. “Or, I am at least.” He kicks off the ground, rushing towards their enemies with a sneer.

Zoro feels himself get yanked forward with the speed of Sanji’s movement, and then the sound of crunching bones and crashing metal. Along with it, he feels himself be dragged to and fro through the air, jolting with the velocity of the cook’s kicks. It’s invigorating, feeling the carry through of Sanji’s fight like this- even if he does feel a bit useless, and a bit clipped of his wings.

Sanji dodges one swing of a bayonet and effortlessly brings a leg up in the followthrough, taking out the marine and the one behind him in a curving strike. Then he’s jumping up to avoid a swing to his- and Zoro’s- legs, instead turning in the air and bringing a steel-toed shoe to the grunt’s head. There’s a satisfying thump, and the marine faints dead cold. Sanji lights diable jambe and swings it on a line of more approaching marines, the fire spitting after him, a flickering brushmark painting the air with the thrill of danger. It’s amazing, up close. More amazing than anything, he’s surprised how much the cook can move with his weight throwing him off balance. Or rather- it seems Sanji’s figured out how to account for his weight, using it to throw himself and his kicks more powerfully, the balance redirected.

Soon, Sanji’s standing in the middle of a sea of downed marines, his back just feet away from the dead end they’d found themselves in. If his hands were free, he’s sure the cook would be casually lighting up a smoke- all cool and nonchalant, like he’s some jazzy badass. Zoro snorts through a smirk.

But they aren’t alone. Not yet.

The pick-axe wielding marine stands at the end of the hallway, grinning wildly. Sanji takes one look at his hand and scoffs. How topical.

“You may have bested my men, but I’m a whole ‘nother issue.”

“You’re an issue alright.” Sanji says, preparing his stance once more. Zoro is bitter to be kept out of the fight, still balanced on Sanji’s back like a child, but at least he’ll have front seats to Sanji beating this guy’s lights out.

And he does.

The marine rushes forward with his weapon raised, and Sanji waits until he’s right on top of them to move like a whip, dodging out from under him with his face in shadow, a kick hitting the marine square in the side. He cries out, swinging down at them again, the pickaxe instead chipping a stalagmite to pieces.

As Sanji watches the man queue up for another swing, he gets an idea.

Just before the pickaxe comes down, he juts the place where the two of them are joined into the space below the swing.

It’s a long shot, but…

Clink.

The pickaxe catches on the chains linking the metal handcuffs, breaking the chain in two. Zoro and Sanji fly apart, now bound on only one pair of their wrists. They each have a free arm. They each have movement.

Sanji grins widely at Zoro. Zoro grins back even wilder.

Swords or no, Zoro wastes no time. He draws an arm back and decks the marine in the face, hard, brawling like he was born to do it.

It’s odd seeing Zoro fight without swords. He looks even rougher than usual, his swordsmanship one of the few times he feels concentrated and lithe. Sanji doesn’t exactly…hate it.

While the marine is left reeling from a broken nose, Sanji takes the opportunity to kick him straight into the opposite wall with a flaming foot. The marine cries out in pain, and when he rises from the rubble, he’s clearly disoriented. He’s far from trouble now, though. Sanji and Zoro move in perfect sync, the joint assault flattening their opponent in a matter of just a few moments of flames, kicks, and punches.

The marine lays motionless, knocked out cold amongst the rocks. A few stray emeralds rattle from the hold of the wall, tinkling over his bleeding forehead.

“It’s like these guys keep forgetting who we are or something.” Zoro says with a wry, hotshot smile.

“Cocky bastard.” Sanji says, finally pulling out a cigarette to light with his free hand. If he’s smiling even as he takes a drag, he pretends not to notice it.

The fight- fighting together- it seems to have improved their moods. Being freed- partially- certainly hasn’t hurt either. On one hand, Sanji’s surprised. If Zoro had heard him, surely he wouldn’t be acting like this. He would have said something by now. Sanji’s relief is palpable, boosting his good mood even further.

“We should get moving.” Zoro’s voice cuts through his thoughts. “If marines have made it into the mine, they’re probably spread throughout, looking for us.”

Sanji blows a plume of smoke away from the swordsman. “You have a point.”

—

The two of them end up following the path the marines had used to get to them. Sanji’s quick to point out that if they got in, their presence would also lead to a way out.

It’s a lot of monotonous rock and stone, and they run into a few more loose marines on their way, but their new range of movement makes quick work of them. By the time they start going up a steep incline, they realize this may well be it. Freedom- finally- and the chance to not only regain Zoro’s swords, but the Sunny, as well. By this time it’s been nearly a day since they last saw the crew, and they’re probably worried sick, if not also quite pissed at the duo.

But just as they reach the top, light of the sunrise filtering in a dinky cave entrance, Zoro tugs hard on the seastone cuffs still holding them bound. Sanji is yanked right against Zoro’s chest, gasping in surprise as their faces come far too close for comfort. His cigarette nearly burns Zoro’s nose, dropping to the ground and being stomped out by Zoro’s black boot with a fizzle.

Sanji blinks at him, surprise filtering into his mind at the same time he realizes he’s blushing mad. “Mosshead?”

The words he’d spoken when they’d awoken come to the forefront of his mind. It’s silly. It’s stupid. It’d be so strange, wouldn’t it?

But what would it be like?

Zoro goes to open his mouth. Someone else’s voice gets their attention instead.

“Uh, hey! Blackleg! Roronoa!”

Their heads swivel, still pressed chest to chest like fools.

It’s Tino. Mosby stands beside her, waving them both forward from just outside the cave mouth.

Zoro shirks himself away, new objective in mind. He begins stomping towards them with fervor and Sanji is left trying to process the new situation while being pulled along like a dog.

“Where. Are. My. Swords.” He bites out, not outwardly violent (yet) but glowering like no other. He takes a cursory glance around, but sees nothing strapped to either of their sides.

“Zoro…” Sanji warns, hesitant to have a repeat of last time.

“Here.” Mosby cuts in. To the surprise of the both of them, she tosses them a key.

It lands with a jingle in front of them. They both glance at it, sure that this couldn’t be. Sanji leans down and picks it up with his free hand while Zoro keeps his eyes on the couple, their faces impassive.

Clunk.

The seastone handcuffs fall away.

Zoro doesn’t look away. He doesn’t say anything, either. Sanji rubs his wrists, flexing his fingers with glee. When the silence continues on too long, he steps forward.

“What’s with the change of heart?”

Mosby takes Tino’s hand in her own, rubbing a thumb over it as they both sit back against a log in their makeshift camp.

“They don’t plan on giving us any credit for our part in capturing you. Knowing our captain, we shouldn’t be surprised.” She says, her eyes narrowing. Tino’s hand tightens against hers.

“Speaking of, thanks for beating the shit out of him. We didn’t enjoy patching his sorry ass back up.” Mosby says with a grimace. “He’s on your ship now. He confiscated your swords from us, too. Said they were too precious to leave in the hands of…” She trails off. “Well, you get the point.”

Zoro’s shoulders seem to tense, but not at the women before him. His good eye cleanly shifts to the view of the Sunny just off the island’s shore, a white-clad figure visible traipsing around on deck. The pick axe mounted to his hand is hard to miss, even at this distance.

Sanji’s face contorts, his face full of concern. “You’ll be kicked out of the marines for this, you know.” He tosses the keys back to them. Tino catches them with a single raised palm.

“We’re aware.” She shakes her head, gazing at Mosby with a lovesick expression. “We’re thinking of trying your shoes on for size instead.” She finishes, grin mischievous and full.

Sanji huffs a chuckle. “I wish you ladies the best of success.” He says with a bow and a smile, causing the two of them to laugh good naturedly. Zoro, apparently finding the conversation to have used up its usefulness, begins trekking it down the mountain’s grey and scraggly path. Sanji rolls his eyes, giving the women a quick wave and a nod as he follows after him.

Tino catches his wrist. “Wait.” She glances quickly between Sanji and the swordsman’s retreating form. “Hey, uh, are you two…?”

Her question trails off, though the way she clutches her lover’s hand and seems to give Sanji a curious, if not searching glance, is not lost on him. Mosby gently tears her partner’s hand away.

“Leave it be, darling.”

Sanji hesitates, looking between their faces before he rushes off. Camaraderie. That’s what their faces had said. Sanji thinks of the way their hands link together and shakes his head, catching up to Zoro before he can make a turn into the brush.

—

Luckily, the marine captain is just as arrogant and stupid as they remember. He has no backup this time, stacking crates of supplies to steal from the ship’s stores alone as three saya dangle carelessly from his hip. Along with them, a very threatening looking gun hangs on his back, too.

He’s patched up now, though he looks no less worse for wear. Who knows how he got back out before them, but he’s apparently used his time to torment Tino and Mosby and start pillaging the Sunny. Neither of which sit very well with Sanji.

It doesn’t sit very well with Zoro, either. They’re perched just below where the gangway rests, waiting for the right moment to walk up and strike. Zoro, ever impatient, tries to waltz ahead with a frown.

“Wait!” Sanji hisses, pulling him back under.

“What!?”

“We need to be careful.”

“And why’s that? We beat him easy last time. One marine is nothing.”

“Last time, he didn’t have a gun the size of your leg hanging off his back. And you don’t have your swords back- not yet.”

“So? I’m not letting him get away.”

“That’s not what I’m suggesting, idiot. Just…let me cover you, until they’re back in your hands. Alright?”

He’s expecting Zoro to deny him outright with a curse and a frown, but surprisingly, he only gets the latter. Then Zoro nods, quiet and eyes averted.

Sanji blinks. But then he’s spurred into action, looking up to see that the captain has just gone back into the galley. He stands and Zoro takes the lead right after, the two of them stepping onto the deck with blood hot and racing.

The instant the galley door swings open again, Sanji launches at it.

The door opens to the captain, hands full of rations, only for his face to quickly fall as a kick appears in his vision too quickly to dodge. Sanji knocks him a good few yards to the right, nearly tumbling off the side of the ship, only saved by the railing as he’s whipped through the air.

“Hgk- What?” He sits up, face turning to a scowl as he brushes off the hit. “I told those idiots to watch the exit- And how did you get uncuffed!?”

Sanji just grins.

He jumps forward to hit him again, but Zoro appears from behind him to swing a punch at the marine instead. The captain blocks it with his arm, haki on Zoro’s hands clinging against the iron of the pickaxe. Zoro’s face is even. The marine grimaces.

Zoro lunges for his swords just as Sanji aims another kick, but the marine gets a lucky break and manages to dodge through both of them, back onto the main deck of the ship. He hadn’t won before, but he wasn’t doing any better this time. He decides to change tactics.

Wado’s steel glimmers in the light of the sun as it’s brought out of its sheath. He holds the blade like a novice swordsman, no skill or reverence- and certainly no respect.

Sanji finds himself just as pissed as Zoro is.

The swordsman is very much about to take his most treasured sword back by force- but Sanji beats him to it, flinging one of his long legs into a rare upwards facing kick that takes the marine off guard and nearly breaks the man’s wrist. Sanji’s dress shoe collides with his arm so hard that the white blade flies into the air and the captain cries out, clutching it with a wrenched expression.

Wado flips once, twice, three times as it sails back down through the air- and Sanji catches it easily by the hilt.

“I won’t even let you think about using this sword in battle. It’s far above the likes of you.” Sanji spits.

He turns, handling the sword in a way only someone who’s trained with one before would know to. For a moment, Zoro is awed at the novel sight that is Sanji wielding Wado Ichimonji.

Something stirs in his chest.

“Here, mosshead. I think this belongs to you.”

Zoro takes it. The relief he feels to have it back is immeasurable. He nods, unsure how else to express his thanks. But Sanji only gives a quick nod back, turning back to the marine with murder in his eyes.

“You damned pirates- You’ll both die before I let you embarrass me any further!” He growls, whipping the gun off his back with surprising speed. It’s huge- nearly as daunting as a cannon. Must be new technology- Vegapunk’s, if they had to guess.

Guns aren’t usually an issue, but even haki won’t block artillery of that caliber.

The marine aims right for Sanji’s head, letting out a blast that’s so fast even Sanji would have trouble twisting out of the way on time.

But then Zoro’s there, wielding his only sword with the mastery of someone who can effortlessly wield three. He splits the bullet down the center, the resulting blast only inches from Sanji’s face.

Sanji lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when the smoke clears. Zoro gives him a small smile. Sanji returns it.

But the marine is enraged. He tries to use the small exchange as an opportunity to take Zoro out with a pistol whip to the head, but Sanji cuts the bulky barrel of the gun off with another kick, as if he’d never been distracted at all. Instead it’s the marine taken off guard, and in that moment Zoro lands a gruesome swipe of Wado over the marine’s gut. It cuts not only the man’s abdomen, but the bond of the other swords, too. As the man’s blood spills so do the saya- Zoro swipes them up in his grasp, twisting under him and then behind- the swords back in their rightful place at his side.

By the time the marine has recovered enough to stand, gasping and growling and gripping at his wound, he’s faced with a terrifying sight.

Sanji and Zoro have come together to stand over him. Their silhouettes are monstrous: a demon with three glowing swords, and a devil with blue flame licking up a raised leg, ready to strike.

A pair of glowing red eyes stare down at him- one from each of them.

He murmurs something in fear at the realization that he really, truly had been in over his head.

There’s a flurry of movement. Blue flames lick through the air, burning white hot. A trio of cold, piercing blades cut him head to toe. The force of the two attacks combined send him flying, and he falls not just over the railing but into the waiting sea, barely keeping track of it all before he’s suddenly watching the ocean’s surface rippling above him, slowly receding.

That’s the second time today he’d underestimated a couple of no-good kids.

—

After their ship’s pest is sent overboard, the two of them make haste on getting the ship back to the crew. Running a ship as large as the Sunny with just two hands on deck should be a nightmare, but somehow, the two of them make do. They run about drawing sails and rope and rudders to their proper places, working like clockwork to balance out whatever the other has just done- and wordlessly, too.

It’s never lost on them how well they work together when they have to. Not like this entire debacle hasn’t reminded them.

Once they’ve prepped the ship and gotten it turned back around, they finally start heading towards the island they’re actually supposed to be on. The good news is, it’s not too far off- still visible on the horizon, even if blurry and silhouetted by the still rising sun.

They catch a glance of Tino and Mosby on a cliff’s edge as they pull away, waving the two of them off with thick bags slung over their shoulders. Their marine outfits are gone, replaced with casual clothes and a few stolen weapons. Maybe more, depending on the bags’ content. They give the lovers wide grins, saluting them before they turn back to the sea.

—

Sanji leans against the helm, suddenly realizing just how exhausted he is. He’s definitely marathoned for longer- it’s unavoidable on this crew- but the emotional aspect had certainly taken a toll, too. He glances around, unsure of where the mosshead has slipped off to at the moment.

As he pulls a cigarette up to his lips, he’s surprised by a large muscled arm slamming into the wall above his shoulder, Zoro’s frame suddenly taking up his vision before he can light it. He jolts in surprise and the smoke falls to the ground, inert. Zoro’s frowning at him. Sanji grunts, catching up to the feeling of his heart beating in his chest from the sudden scare.

“Oi! What the hell?”

Zoro narrows his eyes, leaning in further. “So. That's why you’ve been acting weird?”

Sanji’s perplexed. “What? What are you talking about?”

“You’re in love with me.”

Oh.

So he had heard him.

Shit.

Sanji curses, spouting denials and dodging the question with insults hurled at the other man all the while. Finally, at Zoro’s continued, unwavering gaze, he tries to walk off- but Zoro pins his hands.

It’s like the cuffs are back. When Sanji meets his eye again, he looks just as disgruntled as before, but something about his face has softened.

“Would you let me kiss you?”

Sanji balks at him. His voice is tiny and dry. “Wh…What? Like, right now?”

Zoro shrugs. Like it’s no big deal.

“I…” Sanji stiffens. “Like you even would!” He recovers, a blush coming to his cheeks nonetheless.

Zoro rolls his eye. “I would.”

“Prove it!”

Sanji may or may not be too shocked to properly think through what he’s saying.

‘Dumbass.’ The swordsman thinks.

Zoro kisses him.

It’s not particularly extravagant or even very long, but it’s something, and it’s more than Sanji ever expected he’d get. For the brief moments that Zoro’s rough lips are locked over his, he feels like he’s skywalking again- floating the two of them to refuge while his heart tears about, full of adrenaline and unable to think.

When Zoro pulls back, he’s still dazed.

“You…What?” He asks again. His thoughts are a mess. His heart is no longer beating, it’s hammering in his chest.

Zoro’s cheeks are dusted with the barest hint of pink. Sanji thinks he may fall in love all over again. Despite it, though, Zoro looks off, a small frown on his face. “I don’t know if I feel the same way. Haven’t thought about it yet. But I didn’t…hate that.”

“...Neither did I.” Sanji says in a small voice.

Zoro scoffs, leaning in again. “Well of course you liked it.” Sanji desperately leans in for another but Zoro flicks him in the forehead. “Lovecook.”

Sanji scowls. “You piece of shit- Don’t joke about things like that. We rib on each other, but this…” He gestures between them. “This is off limits.”

At Sanji’s dejected look, Zoro huffs. To the blonde’s surprise, Zoro leans in and kisses him again.

“Wasn’t a joke.”

Sanji’s left standing in shock again, but Zoro’s already walking off as the sun starts to lower in the sky. “Come talk to me in the crow’s nest tonight. Bring sake.”

Sanji realizes it’s a date. And despite himself, he smiles.

—

Jinbei emerges from the saltwater at the beach’s shore, flicking away excess water as he walks up to the rest of the crew, eager and apprehensive.

He gives them a wide grin. “I’ve located the Sunny, as well as Sanji and Zoro. They are sailing it back as we speak.”

The other Straw Hats visibly sag in relief, the more rowdy members of the crew rejoicing with hugs and laughter. Even Nami, who still looks ready to burst a blood vessel once they return with whatever excuse they have ready, seems to let weight fall from her shoulders.

Jinbei cuts in again. “But I must say. I wasn't aware they were a couple. I suppose that explains some things.” He says, pondering.

The loud energy about the crew immediately comes to a halt.

“...What?” Peeps Usopp.

Nami blinks. “They aren't a- What are you talking about?”

Jinbei blinks back, equally as confused. “They were kissing at the helm. I would’ve jumped on and sailed back with them, but I figured I might as well give them their space.”

The resounding response is a chorus.

“...WHAT-”

—

When they finally reunite with the crew that evening, they’re embraced with joy and relief from various worried crewmates. Franky cries all over both of them, Chopper obsessively checks them for wounds, and Sanji nearly faints with delight when Robin deigns him with a gentle hug.

When grilled on what the hell had happened, they explain, embarrassed at the ridiculousness of it all. Somehow, all they receive in return is a bonk on the head each from Franky and Nami, and a sunny laugh from their wholly entertained captain.

Strangely, it seems like the crew is waiting for the duo to tell them something else. Big eyes and expectant glances dance around them at the bonfire celebrating their return that night, but the captain’s wings only glance back at each other, equally puzzled by the crew’s behavior. Only Jinbei seems unbothered.

Eventually the crew deflates, deciding whatever they’re waiting for isn’t coming. All’s well for Sanji and Zoro, though, who spend the rest of the evening cooking and drinking respectively. Once the sun has fallen and the Straw Hats have packed up their camp, they all return to the Thousand Sunny, this time to sail towards their next destination come morning.

Sanji, though, follows Zoro up to the crow’s nest shortly after their return to the ship. Eight other pairs of eyes follow his movement, though he doesn’t notice. He’s too nervous.

When he throws open the hatch, Zoro is sitting at the other end of the room, meditating. He flicks open his good eye when Sanji steps up into the space, brandishing a bottle of their best sake and a pair of cups.

The cook silently crosses the room, setting the sake down between them and staying in his place just a short distance away.

Zoro is silent a moment, only eyeing the booze. He reaches over and pours himself a cup without a word, not looking Sanji in the eyes.

Sanji bristles, his nerves getting the better of him. “Look, if this is gonna be weird-”

“My answer’s yes.”

“...Huh? To what?”

“To trying this out. If you want to, anyway.” He says it so casually. He takes a drink, sighing quietly at the taste of it.

Sanji blinks. “What? Us? Even after- even after everything? Even considering…” Sanji looks off, crosses his arms. He rubs at the bruises left behind by the handcuffs and thinks of all their arguments, the way they’d pulled each other in opposite directions, how they’d yanked each other around and all in all experienced a microcosm of their usual dynamic.

“You know.” He gestures between them again.

Zoro chuckles. “Yea, cook. Even then.” He gestures. “Sit down.”

Sanji sits.

“I, uh.” Odd. Zoro rarely hesitates.

“I appreciate all you did for me while we were locked up. Thanks.” That's weird too. What the hell is going on here?

“Uh, yeah. Of course.” Sanji rubs the back of his neck, twirling a finger anxiously through his hair. “Are you sure about this, though? You said you didn't know how you felt just a few hours ago.” His face hardens. “If you’re pitying me-”

“No.” Zoro interrupts. “It’s more than a few hours. The last few days-” He cuts himself off, tsking. “Hell, the last two years. I made my decision based on that. Besides, if you really piss me off, I always have a promise to fulfill.” He says, his grin crooked and wry.

Sanji scoffs. “Yea, that’s true. Idiot marimo.”

“Stupid cook.”

This time, Sanji leans forward to grab Zoro's wrists, his grip mimicking Zoro’s earlier. Mimicking the handcuffs that started this all.

He pulls Zoro gently forward, meeting him halfway with a nervous smile.

And they kiss, shackles now gone for good.