Sanji sat beside Zoro on the floor, cigarette between his lips, watching Zoro the rise and fall of his chest. Luffy was beside him, equally unconscious, but while Luffy wore a smile on his face and would be obviously fine, Zoro was pale, breathing shallowly, and gravely injured. He’d done it again; pushed beyond every limit he had to win. His strength, skill, endurance and perseverance had proved he was a great swordsman and an even greater crewmate for Luffy.
While Sanji had… luck.
Cigarette smoke drifted upward as he exhaled. He’d been worried that he’d lose his emotions, about becoming like his brothers after the Vinsmoke changes took hold. It was easy to tell it hadn’t happened, because he felt like a worthless waste of space. He realized, after the dust had settled post-raid, that he had only beat Queen due to his modifications. In fact, he should have been dead the second Queen got hold of him. If he’d somehow managed to survive that, he should’ve been beheaded. In reality, Sanji had lost to Queen, more than once, and it was luck alone that he was still breathing.
All this time, he thought he was Zoro’s equal. That he could hold his own with the swordsman, fight for fight, support Luffy, take down tyrants and defeat any opponent that came their way. He was wrong. He was a joke. He hadn’t been able to hold his own. His success was all due to Vinsmoke Judge, and that hurt to know. So no, he didn’t have to worry about his emotions, because he felt like absolute shit.
He’d seen how people looked at Zoro, how they treated him. Sanji wanted to shout at everyone, This is the man who you should be admiring! Because Zoro was the real thing. Who fought, bled, endured, and stood unmatched. Who won by skill and grit. Who earned his place at the right hand of the Pirate King.
And Sanji… Sanji should just be the cook.
He wouldn’t give up. His mother hadn’t died for him to toss it away. And he owed a debt to Luffy, for saving him from himself. He’d fight like hell, protect the crew, give it his all every time. But he would do so always knowing that he was already dead. Knowing he had been the first to prove not good enough. Knowing he was still walking solely because of genetic luck.
Because he was a Vinsmoke.
End