Sanji stood at the edge of the cliff on Wano, looking down at the waves crashing against rocks far below. His black and blue yukata buffeted in the wind, his hair tossed in disarray. He took a draw from the cigarette between his fingers, held the smoke in, and blew it out slowly. This was where he wanted to die.
The sun was dipping beneath the horizon, casting oranges and rose-golds against the clouds in the twilight sky. He could hear the sounds of the Fire Festival and the celebration of Kaidou’s defeat. His crewmates were at a private residence in the capital, recuperating from the raid. Luffy and Zoro were still unconscious. Robin was bandaged from her fight with Black Maria. Chopper had attended to everyone's wounds.
Sanji had bandages, too, though they held little use. He had healed within moments of Chopper’s ministrations. His body was no longer human, the final nail in the coffin that was the shitshow his life had become. He had turned into a Vinsmoke and there was nothing that could be done to change it.
Sanji took another pull on his cigarette, staring down at the rocks that he wished would smash him into pieces right now. They wouldn’t, though. He’d need something – or someone – else to take him down. Luckily, it was already arranged, he simply had to wait for the swordsman to regain consciousness. Hopefully, Zoro’s blades would work. If not, he’d return here anyway to take his final bow.
He wondered, briefly, how things would have gone if Vinsmoke Judge hadn’t reappeared in his life, hadn’t forced his hand, hadn’t reminded him that he hadn’t ever actually escaped. Judge had beaten him, cuffed him, and verbally abused him. His brothers had beaten him to a pulp, then cowed him over a pipe in the clone room to prove how weak he really was, while his sister watched and then blamed him for it because he knew what would happen if he returned. He learned that his mother died because of him, no matter how his sister couched it. His forced fiancée thought that he was a disgusting, loser of a man. And he’d beaten Luffy brutally in front of Nami, who’d said she’d never forgive him.
The wind caught the bottom of the yukata, lifting it slightly, bunching it against Sanji’s knees. What he’d done to his Captain was despicable, but he knew that Luffy had stupidly forgiven him. Nami had not. And Sanji had only made it worse by pretending nothing that happened on Whole Cake Island had affected him. He had a raid suit that made him invisible, so of course he had to use it to spy on the women in the bath house. That’s what Sanji did, after all. See, he was exactly the same. He’d even gotten a nosebleed!
In response, Robin had pinned him with her Devil Fruit hands and Nami had beaten him with her Clima-Tact until his face was a pulped mess. When Nami was done, Robin had told him flatly, “You crossed a line. Do not expect forgiveness to come readily.”
After she left, Nami had bent down to hiss into his good ear, “I haven’t forgiven you for what happened before, but now I loathe you. Do not talk to me, look at me, or interact with me unless you absolutely have to, you disgusting piece of shit.”
Sanji just lay there on the floor of the house they were at as she spat in his face and left the room. Sanji’s hatred of himself grew more powerful, and when he’d gathered himself to rejoin the others, Franky whispered, “What you did, not cool, bro.” Usopp wouldn’t look at him. Robin must have told Franky, who told Usopp. More people he’d disappointed, to add to the lengthening list.
Sanji ashed his cigarette into the wind before taking another drag. His self-loathing had been high after the bath house incident, but it only got worse once he met up with Zoro when the crew gathered before the final raid. Zoro had made it quite clear that he was furious over Sanji’s abandonment, that he’d tried to talk Luffy out of going after Sanji, and that Sanji’s family nonsense wasn’t worth nearly destroying the alliance’s plans. Sanji didn’t disagree. Luffy never should have come for him. He’d be dead already and this nightmare would be over. Instead, he got to experience his body changing from human into Vinsmoke, and now he was the very abomination that he’d hated. It was fitting, really. What better way to cap off the past month and a half of his life?
Sanji took a final drag on his cigarette before flicking his butt into the wind. He watched it tumble end-over-end, falling far, far, far down the cliff before disappearing from sight.
Luffy had said that he couldn’t become the Pirate King without Sanji. Luffy had misplaced faith. Half the crew hated Sanji. It wouldn’t be long before the other half did, as well. Sanji couldn’t live on a ship where he was despised and he knew his worth was little. With the change in his body into full Vinsmoke, Luffy would understand. He wanted his nakama strong, and Sanji had become a pathetic parody of a man.
Sanji slid his hands into the yukata’s pockets and made his way back to the capitol. The celebrators danced and sang and partied in the streets. He skirted them, not wanting to be pulled into the festive throng. The residence the Straw Hats were recuperating in was on a hill overlooking the harbor. He slipped through the main door, to find voices chattering excitedly. Apparently, Luffy and Zoro were awake.
Sanji wandered into the central courtyard garden. Luffy was eating non-stop and Zoro was in Asura drinking and eating non-stop. Their nakama and Wano friends gathered around in a private celebration of their recovery. Sanji said something about Momonosuke no longer being able to hug Nami, trying to play his part. But everything was numb. Depression shrouded him in darkness that ran deep. He knew he should not be there, did not deserve to be.
He stood away from the others at the corner of the garden, pretending to be with the group when he was really not. He saw when Zoro noticed him, saw the narrowing of his eyes.
Zoro moved suddenly, drawing his katanas, launching himself in Sanji’s direction. “I must’ve returned from hell to fulfill my promise to kill you!”
Sanji did not move. He simply answered, “Yes.”
Zoro froze with a blade at Sanji’s throat. Around them, the others continued to converse, not paying any mind to the two who always got into a fight. Sanji could feel the pressure of the katana, but not its sharpness. He waited with hope for Zoro to slice into him and end his misery.
“Why won’t my blade cut you?” Zoro said, brow furrowed.
Sanji’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach. He knew Zoro would have tried to draw blood, even if to prove a point. The Vinsmoke genes at work. Sanji felt a sting at the corner of an eye and he blinked it away. “Don’t worry about it,” Sanji told him. “Tell everyone I’m gone, will you? If Luffy asks, let him know he was wrong.”
Zoro scowled. “I’m not your errand boy.”
Sanji really didn’t care anymore. He left without another word.
The walk back to the cliff was slow. Night had fallen and the revelry had only grown. Fireworks and lanterns lit the star-studded sky. Alcohol flowed freely. Families crowded the streets. Children screamed and ran, trailing sparklers and streamers behind them. Sanji’s shoulders were hunched under the heavy weight of depression, the celebration only serving to make him feel worse. His help to free Wano didn’t erase the shit that he’d done, the trash that he was and always would be. His father had been right, his existence was a stain on the world. If he hadn’t been such a coward, he would have let himself be wiped out by the Charlottes. Instead, he went to Luffy and saved the family that brutally abused him, while another piece of himself questioned the point of his own survival.
The answer: there wasn’t a point. His kindness had killed his mother and ensured that the Vinsmoke monsters still lived. He’d been defiled and debilitated and was ashamed of himself. His abominable behavior caused others to hate him, caused him to hate himself. He could not inflict himself on anyone – even on himself – anymore.
The cliff appeared and Sanji walked to the edge. He could hear the roar of the waves crashing against the rocks far below. The capitol was perched high above the sea. Night surrounded him, the lights from the festivities having been left behind. He could only see stars and the sliver of the moon.
He took off his sandals, setting them aside, and removed his topknot. His hair fell loose around his face, tousled by the ocean wind. He could not see to the bottom of the cliff, but that did not matter. He did not say goodbye, or have any last regrets. He spread his arms and allowed his body to freefall into the inky darkness.
He closed his eyes, the wind whipping past his ears. For a brief moment, he soared.
His body smashed onto the jagged rocks at the bottom of the cliff. The sharp tips shattered with the impact. His body contorted catastrophically, chest compacting, arms and legs becoming deformed, head flattening on one side, his neck twisted almost fully around.
He was still alive. Of course he was, because he was a Vinsmoke now.
He lay there, unmoving, staring up at the dark sky. The sea splashed him as the waves hit the rocks. He wondered if he could drown. Or if his lungs had been smashed enough that he would eventually stop breathing. If not, he’d let dehydration overtake him. It should only be a few days. He could lay there until death finally claimed him.
“No, no, no, no, no…” A panicked voice, Zoro’s, got louder, coming out of the darkness. Sanji saw him slide into view, using two katanas to safely aid his descent. He’d obviously followed Sanji from the residence. His bandages were bright around his bare chest, his yukata tied around his waist. He looked pale despite his tanned skin. The false topknot had come free, shedding green hairs around him like freshly mown lawn.
Sanji watched dully as Zoro landed on the rocks, sheathed his swords, and ran on sandaled feet over to him. Zoro dropped to his knees beside Sanji, terror on his face. A pained, wordless cry erupted from his throat, his hands hovering over Sanji’s damaged form.
Sanji felt himself being gathered up, hugged tight against a shaking chest. Zoro’s grief was loud, shattering. He rocked Sanji’s battered body as his piercing keen filled the night. Sanji should say something. He wasn’t worth the tears. “Don’t.”
Zoro went silent for a second, and then he was babbling desperately while he laid Sanji on the rocks. “Sanji? Sanji! You’re not dead? Sanji, don’t be dead. Please, don’t let me be hearing things.”
“M’not worth crying over,” Sanji murmured hollowly. His twisted neck pinched his airway but not enough to matter.
“Oh, fuck, fuck. You’re alive.” Zoro inhaled a loud, shaky sob and bowed over Sanji’s body. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Sanji had no idea who Zoro was thanking. He wasn’t very religious. But then suddenly, Zoro was pressing a hard kiss on Sanji’s lips and Sanji’s mind skittered. It was unexpected, bizarre, and a complete what the fuck? Zoro hated Sanji. Everyone knew that, Sanji especially. Why the hell was Zoro kissing him?
Fat tears fell on Sanji’s upturned face. If he hadn’t felt them, he’d question if he actually had died and was in some warped version of hell.
“Chopper,” Zoro blurted abruptly against Sanji’s lips. He straightened and looked up at the sheer cliff face. Tears streaked his face. “I need Chopper. I need to get you to Chopper.”
“No,” Sanji said, resigning himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to die today.
“But you’re…” The horror in Zoro’s voice and his face explained how badly Sanji looked. Zoro rarely was visibly affected by other people’s injuries.
Sanji grunted and forced an elbow to straighten. From there, he only had to bang his bent hand on the rock beneath him a few times to get it back to normal form. After that, it was easy. He fixed his other arm first, then twisted his head back into the right position. He was now looking at the rocks instead of at Zoro.
“Holy fuck,” Zoro breathed in astonishment.
Sanji pushed himself over onto his back and began banging his torso back into shape. He found it easier to breathe with his lungs no longer crushed. Sitting up, he torqued his legs into the correct direction using his hands. The flattened side of his head was harder to fix, considering he couldn’t see it, but he managed. Within three minutes, his entire body was back to normal. There was no indication that he’d thrown himself off a cliff, except for his dirty, torn, damp yukata.
A wave crashed against the rocks, sending a spray of water onto them. Sanji sighed and glanced over at Zoro. Zoro was staring at him with an eye so huge it seemed to eclipse his face. “How…? What…?” Zoro questioned, agog.
“Why do you think I wanted you to kill me?” Sanji said in response. He patted his pockets for a cigarette. The pack was soaked, ruined. Great. “I’m a monster now.”
“I… fuck.” Zoro rubbed a hand over his snot and tear-streaked face. “Why did you jump and scare the shit out of me?”
“Why do you care?”
Zoro lowered his hand and stared at Sanji in shock again. “What the fuck do you mean, why do I care? Of course I fucking care, asshole! I thought you died.”
“And?” Sanji really wished he could light up. If he had to be alive, at least he could have nicotine.
Zoro’s mouth hung open dumbly for a long moment before he spoke again. “You really were trying to kill youself?”
“Yes.” Sanji drew his knees up to his chest. Another wave splashed his back. They should probably move. “But I failed at that, too.”
Thick emotion cracked Zoro’s voice. “Why? Why would you do that?”
Sanji stared at him flatly. “You said it yourself, I wasn’t worth saving.”
Zoro reared back. “When did I say that? I never said that.”
Sanji snorted. “It wasn’t that long ago, dumbshit. You can’t have forgotten.”
“I think I would remember telling you that you should die!”
“You told Luffy not to come after me, told me that my family nonsense wasn’t worth ruining the plans,” Sanji recounted. “You hate me as much as everyone else does, but no more than I hate myself. Because you were right, I wasn’t worth coming after. Luffy should have stayed away. I would be dead already. But instead I came back to the joke that is now my life and screwed that up, too. And now I can’t even fucking die right and put everyone out of their misery of having to deal with me, including myself.”
Zoro was visibly upset. “I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you. I was angry that you left us when we needed you and you didn’t explain why.”
Sanji scoffed. “You think I wanted to leave? Or better yet, do you think I should’ve let Zeff be murdered because it was an inconvenient time for me?”
“We would’ve figured something out.”
“When? Before or after Zeff’s head was cut off?” Sanji turned away from Zoro. “Just piss off. I did what I did and I can’t change it. I can’t change anything. I am, and always will be, a disgusting failure of a person and the world would be better off without me in it.”
“My world wouldn’t be,” Zoro said with quiet desperation. “Neither would Luffy’s.”
“I beat Luffy to a pulp, you know? On Whole Cake Island. He was a bloody mess,” Sanji told him bluntly, face still turned away. “Did it on purpose, too. Knew what I was doing. How’s your world now?”
Zoro went silent. Sanji figured he would. Maybe he’d leave and Sanji could crawl off the rocks into the ocean and drown himself. Then maybe he’d find peace.
“Luffy brought you back.”
Sanji sighed. “And?”
“That’s all that actually matters to me.”
Sanji looked over at Zoro again. Zoro was still seated on his knees beside Sanji. The wave hit the rocks and sent another spray at them. “You don’t care that I hurt him?” Sanji said.
“Do you care that you did?” Zoro turned around on him.
Self-loathing draped over Sanji’s shoulders. He looked away again. “It doesn’t matter.”
For a moment, Zoro didn’t say anything. Then, Sanji felt a hand on his arm. He glanced at it. “Whatever this is, whatever is going on, it’s not worth your life.”
Sanji would beg to differ, but instead he looked at Zoro again and asked, “Why did you kiss me?”
Zoro didn’t look away. “Because I thought you’d died.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know.”
“So why did you kiss me?” Sanji asked again. “You hate me.”
“I love you.”
Sanji stared at Zoro in shock. “You what?”
“Love you,” Zoro repeated. His hand felt heavy and warm on Sanji’s arm. “Have for a while.”
Sanji couldn’t believe his ears. His heart started hammering in his chest. It couldn’t be true. Zoro hated him. It had been that way since Little Garden. It was what their relationship was based on. “Why are you telling me this?” he whispered, confused, dismayed, everything tilting on its axis.
“Because I almost lost you again. I’m not about to lose you for a third time.”
Sanji’s mind spun and his heart raced and nothing felt real at the moment. “Third time?” he latched onto.
“Yeah. First with Kuma and now here. I don’t want a third time.” Zoro’s hand tightened on Sanji’s arm and frantic concern washed over his face. “Please stop trying to die.”
Kuma was a long time ago. Kuma separated the crew on Sabaody. Kuma was on Thriller Bark. On Thriller Bark, Sanji had tried to take Zoro’s place, had offered himself for death because Zoro’s life was worth much more than his own. “Since Thriller Bark?”
Zoro nodded. “I knew the moment that I saw you when you came looking for me. I had been holding myself together by a thread, but I knew with you there, that I was safe, that you would protect me, and that I could let go. I’ve loved you ever since.”
Sanji couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it. How could somebody love him? How could Zoro love him? How could he not have known? “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You like women,” Zoro answered simply.
Yes, but Sanji had spent his entire life fighting the feeling of being unloved, thanks to Vinsmoke Judge. He knew that Zeff cared about him, but logic and emotion didn’t always connect. If he’d known that Zoro loved him, would it have changed things? Sanji didn’t know. His going to Whole Cake Island would have hurt Zoro worse, that Sanji could figure out, and the end result would still be half his crew hating him and him hating himself.
The ocean’s spray hit them again, cold stinging nettles against their skin. Zoro’s bandages were starting to become soaked. It couldn’t be good for him. Unlike Sanji, his body didn’t bang back into shape. “You should go. You don’t want to get sick. Chopper’s going to throw a fit that you’re not in bed.”
“Not alone.” Zoro’s hand remained on Sanji’s arm. “I’d be lost without you.”
The words held more than one meaning. Sanji was too much of a jumbled mess of emotions to do anything but acquiesce, and his heart still pounded erratically in his chest. He couldn’t believe that Zoro loved him. He wasn’t worthy of that love. He was dirty and disgusting and a disappointment. Once they got away from the site of Sanji’s non-death, Zoro would see that he’d made a mistake.
Sanji climbed to his feet. Zoro did the same. “Get on my back,” Sanji said, half-turning and crouching. There was only one way they were getting to the top. Zoro grasped his shoulders and climbed onto his back. Sanji supported him beneath the knees. “Hang on.”
Sanji used his crouched position to propel himself into a jump. The air became solid beneath his feet and he leapt from invisible step to invisible step to the top of the cliff. Once away from the edge, he set Zoro back onto his feet.
Zoro hissed and rubbed his bandaged chest with one hand. “Stupid marimo, hurting yourself again,” Sanji muttered, putting back on his sandals.
“Stupid cook saying stupid obvious shit again,” Zoro countered, grabbed Sanji by the hand, and began dragging him away from the cliff.
“Tch. I thought you didn’t want to get lost.” Sanji yanked his hand from Zoro’s and took the lead back toward town. On the way, he tried to box up everything that had happened and shove it deep into a corner of his mind. If he ignored it, maybe it would go away. He could pretend he hadn’t tried to kill himself and, while half the crew still hated him – except, apparently, Zoro – he could force himself to do his job, remain in the kitchen, and they wouldn’t have to see him except at meals. He could make himself partially scarce then, too, by staying on the kitchen side of the galley and only providing food and drink refills if necessary. No one would have to look at his disgusting self if they chose.
They made their way past the revelers, the victory celebration continuing into the night. The joyous people didn’t know that the two men walking by had anything to do with their reason for celebrating. They sang and cheered and were happy to be free. A week of festivities was small in comparison to the years of Kaidou’s tyranny.
The lights were on in the residence the Straw Hats were occupying. Sanji really didn’t want to see anyone. Zoro seemed to understand, as he was quiet when they entered. They toed off their shoes at the entry. Sanji went to walk off, to get away, but Zoro clamped his hands on both of Sanji’s shoulders from behind and nudged Sanji in the direction of the bedrooms, to the one that Chopper had converted into an infirmary. No one was inside. Zoro shut the shoji door behind them.
The makeshift infirmary held two twin beds, medical equipment, and a cupboard for clothing. The walls were white stone with dark wood braces and beams. Hand-painted pictures of birds graced the walls. A filmy curtained window let in the faint moonlight. Zoro leaned his three katanas against the cupboard. Sanji went to protest when Zoro walked toward one of the beds, but Zoro merely grabbed the blankets and pillows from it and tossed them in the corner on the bamboo floor. He latched onto Sanji’s wrist and tugged Sanji down with him onto the makeshift nest, sitting side-by-side in the semi-darkness of the room.
Seated cross-legged, eyesight adjusting to the dimness, Sanji stewed silently, too wrung out to deal with a clingy Zoro. He wanted to change, wanted to find a fresh pack of cigarettes, wanted this day to end. He would ignore Zoro’s confession, ignore his own self-hatred, and pretend life was roses. He’d always been good at make believe.
Zoro shifted the pillows behind him into a more comfortable position. Sanji knew he had to be hurting, but the stubborn oaf was too prideful to admit it. Sanji sighed irritably. “Just go to bed, moron.”
“No.” Zoro winced as he shifted again, crossing his outstretched legs at the ankles. “You need me.”
“I don’t need anyone,” Sanji snapped. Need implied that he was weak. He’d already been that with his family, he didn’t want Zoro to see him that way, as well.
Zoro made a disgruntled sound. “You threw yourself off a fucking cliff. You damn well need me.”
Sanji scowled. “One thing doesn’t have to do with the other.”
“Why are you always so difficult?”
“Why are you always so dumb?” Sanji sneered. “Oh yeah, because your head is full of moss instead of a brain.”
Zoro growled. “Can you please just stop fighting with me and let me be here for you?”
“I don’t want you here for me.” Sanji curled his fingers into the material of his dirty yukata. “I don’t want me here. You’re making my shitty existence shittier by extending it.”
“Fucking hell, you infuriate me.” Zoro pressed his fingers and thumb against his eyes in agitation. “What could be so terrible that it makes you not want to be alive anymore? What happened on Whole Cake Island? Were you raped? Beaten? Caused someone’s death?”
“Yes.”
Zoro’s hand dropped and he jerked his gaze to Sanji. “What? Which one?” He sounded horrified.
A wave of self-disgust rolled over Sanji. He pushed his hands into his hair, gripping the strands tightly between his fingers. Why couldn’t Zoro leave him alone? Why did he have to care? Why couldn’t he let Sanji have control over himself, even if that meant his death?
“Sanji?” Zoro saying his name, like they were intimate, clawed at Sanji’s chest. Sanji realized, why should he hide it? Zoro professed to love him, but he didn’t know who or what Sanji really was, how disgusting he’d become, and this was the perfect way to get Zoro to stop being delusional.
“All of them,” Sanji answered Zoro’s question. He dropped his hands and looked at Zoro in the dim bedroom. Repulsion twisted his expression, aimed at himself. “Still love me now?”
Zoro exhaled a sharp, distressed breath. “Fuck. That’s… fuck.”
Sanji chuckled bitterly. “Yeah. Now add in that my body has turned me into one of them and maybe you have a hint of how revolting I feel and why I don’t want to be here anymore.”
Zoro clamped his hand over his mouth and squeezed his eye shut. Sanji wondered if he was trying not to puke because he was disgusted, too. Then he saw Zoro’s shoulders hitch and a tear escaped to trail down Zoro’s cheek.
“Told you I’m not worth crying over,” Sanji said, hating that he’d said anything. He didn’t want Zoro’s pity.
“Shut up,” Zoro said, dropping his hand. He opened a watery eye to glare at Sanji. “You don’t get a say in how I feel. I fucking love you and I wasn’t there for you. I got mad at you because you ran off and instead of asking if you were okay when you got back, I yelled at you, treated you like you were an asshole for leaving, and didn’t take a second to get my head out of my ass to see if you were all right. What kind of person am I?”
Sanji wrapped his arms across his waist, hugging himself. He leaned his head back against the bedroom wall and stared up at the beamed ceiling. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to feel responsible for Zoro feeling bad about himself on top of everything else.
Zoro swiped his hand across his eye. “Does anyone else know?”
“No.”
“Did…” Zoro stopped and rephrased his question. “Will you tell me what happened? All of it?”
Sanji’s fingers dug into his sides. “Why?”
“Because you’re in pain and I want you to feel like I felt when you were there for me. I want you to feel like you are safe, and protected, and that you can let go.”
Sanji’s throat started burning and tightness squeezed his brows. When was the last time he felt safe? When was the last time he opened up to anyone about anything? He’d told Luffy that he wanted to return to the Sunny, but not why. And now that he was back, he knew that he’d made yet another mistake in a long string of them by pretending to act like everything was normal and caused Nami and Robin to hate him and disappointed his other friends.
What the hell? What was the worst that could happen? He couldn’t hate himself anymore than he already did. And maybe Zoro would allow him to die.
In the cocooned safety of the dim room, Sanji began to speak, his voice flat and factual. He told Zoro everything, from the moment they’d been accosted by Capone Bege until he jumped from the cliff. Every fear, every self-recrimination, every harsh word, every violent encounter, every mistake. He told Zoro how he’d killed his mother and how he’d caused his father to despise him. He touched on the viciousness of his brothers and the pitying benevolence of his sister in the past. He brought up Zeff, and how he’d grown into an asshole that Zeff would despise because of what he’d done at the bath house.
During his recitation, Zoro would murmur a question and more would come out. About his abhorrent behavior, about his shame, about his inadequacies and failures. About how he always felt like he had to prove his existence and he was exhausted from trying. About how Zoro’s words of love were stupid because how could anyone love him when even he hated himself?
Eventually, the flow of confession gave way to silence. The nighttime breeze fluttered the filmy curtain in the window. The bunched blanket lost its softness over the hard bamboo floor. Sanji’s neck felt stiff from staring up at the ceiling, his throat parched from speaking too much. An odd hollowness sat in the center of his chest where the heavy weight of depression sat before. He felt raw, fully exposed, and so very tired.
Zoro reached out a hand and it hovered above Sanji’s thigh. “Is it alright if I touch you?”
Sanji snorted bleakly. “I’m not going to break.”
“Not why I asked,” Zoro said, and Sanji both loved and hated him at that moment.
“It’s okay,” Sanji said.
Zoro’s hand came down on Sanji’s thigh. It felt big and warm and protectively reassuring. Sanji’s throat tightened. He suddenly wanted to crawl into Zoro’s arms and be held like he hadn’t been since he was six. He felt his face crumple and his breath hitched. His eyes began to sting.
“You’re safe, Sanji,” Zoro whispered. “It’s okay to let go.”
He hadn’t expected to get permission to break down. He hadn’t realized it was what he’d needed until Zoro said the words. He hadn’t understood what Zoro’s love meant until now.
The sobs came, hard and wrenching, causing him to fold over his crossed legs. His entire body jerked and shook with hiccoughing gasps for breath. He was not silent like he’d been in the past. His crying was loud and messy. He let grief overtake him. Grief for his childhood. Grief for Whole Cake Island. Grief for what happened to him. Grief for hurting Luffy. Grief for hurting Nami and Robin. Grief for disappointing Zeff. Grief for hurting Zoro. Grief over his shame. Grief for hurting himself. He choked on his broken sobs, the ugly, painful sounds filling the room.
They were not disturbed, whether by miracle or consideration. Sanji cried heavily until he had no tears left to give. Stray hiccoughs still escaped. Sanji had a pounding headache and he couldn’t breathe through his snot-clogged nose. Yet, he felt lighter somehow.
Zoro’s hand was still a warm, welcome presence on his thigh. Sanji heard a ripping sound and felt a touch against his shoulder. “Here.”
Sanji unbent from the waist, shoving his hair back as he sat straight again. Zoro was holding out a length of bandage. A glance at him showed he’d unraveled it from his chest and torn it off with his teeth. Sanji used it to mop his face and blow his nose before telling Zoro in a tear-roughened tone, “Chopper’s going to be pissed at you.”
“Chopper’s always mad at me,” Zoro dismissed. “I don’t like bandages anyway.”
Sanji chuckled softly. Zoro did tend to remove his bandages within hours of consciousness, much to Chopper’s dismay. Sanji was surprised they’d stayed on him this long.
They fell silent again. Sanji gathered himself back together. The release had made things not feel so bleak. He wished he had a cigarette, though. He pulled the pack out of his pocket. The smokes were still soggy. He sighed.
“Those things will kill you, anyway.”
The dry words startled a laugh out of Sanji. “Because throwing myself off a cliff won’t.”
“Hn.” Zoro’s hand squeezed Sanji’s thigh. “Glad it didn’t. You can’t annoy the shit out of me if you’re not around.”
“I annoy the shit out of you?” Sanji tossed the cigarette pack in the direction of the bed. It landed on the sheets with a slight bounce. “You’re the meathead without any manners or intelligence.”
“And you’re a prissy cook who acts like you don’t play in the mud like the rest of us.”
“It’s called having class. Something talking grass would never understand.”
“It’s called being a snot, snottybrow.”
Sanji’s lips pursed against another laugh. “Snottybrow?”
“Pft. Whatever.” Zoro badly hid a yawn. “You gonna fight me about it?”
“No. I’d mop your sleepy ass across the floor.” Sanji wouldn’t admit that he was drained, as well. His eyes felt like sandbags had settled in them. They also still hurt from the intense crying, as did his head. They both could do with some sleep.
“Not tired,” Zoro said, even as he closed his eye. “I can take you.”
“Uh-huh.” Sanji blew his nose again and leaned back against the wall. For a few minutes, everything had felt normal again. But now he was getting anxious, wondering what tomorrow would bring.
“Stop thinking so hard,” Zoro said. “You’re not alone. We’ll get through this together.”
Sanji closed his eyes, Zoro’s hand still a heavy, comforting weight on his thigh. He realized that he didn’t feel like being dismissive to Zoro. Maybe, just maybe, he could get through this with Zoro’s help. Maybe things didn’t have to end. Maybe he could find a way to live again.
Sanji tentatively placed his hand over Zoro’s on his thigh, seeking the offered strength. Tomorrow, he’d apologize properly to Luffy, Nami, Robin, and all his friends. He’d give Zeff a call and apologize to him, too. It wouldn’t fix everything, but it was a start. One day, they might forgive him. One day, he might forgive himself, for who he was, where he came from, and the things beyond his control. He knew it was going to be rough, but he believed that Zoro would be there to protect him, to keep him safe, to allow him to let go.
And when the day came that he finally felt free of his past and strong enough to stand on his own, he’d take the chance on loving Zoro, too.
End