Archive of Our Own

I. Zoro

Zoro lives for the thrill of a fight.

Ever since he was young, fighting Kuina gave him a sense of contentment like no other. Always training, always trying to better himself, so that eventually he could best her someday. Even after she died, Zoro continued to carry that torch, that constant desire to be the best fueling him to move forward. As he grew older, Zoro actively sought out more opportunities to fight stronger opponents who could get his blood pumping and his adrenaline soaring, inevitably gaining the infamous moniker ‘Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro’. 

Joining Luffy as his right hand, however, gave him all the opportunities he’d ever need to fight the world’s strongest pirates. To someday fight Mihawk – and defeat him this time – and realize his dream of becoming the world’s strongest swordsman. So many life-threatening fights that Zoro fought where he wasn’t quite sure if he’d live long enough to see the next morning’s sun. An array of battles that had Zoro grinning around Wado’s hilt in his mouth, blood staining the blades of his katanas in red, all belonging to his enemies while he racked up wounds of his own. All fights that he would never forget, all of which reminded him of how he needed to train even more, because he still isn’t strong enough. 

And yet, fighting the stupid Love Cook would bring him a thrill like no other. 

Whenever Zoro would just barely dodge a kick to his abdomen, parrying it off with all three of his swords, he’d feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Whenever they’d fight, Zoro’s swords clanging against Sanji’s flaming heel, he’d feel as if it was his own body that was being lit ablaze. Alive in a way he’d never felt before, his whole body erupting in thrills that he’d quickly grown addicted to. Always seeking out another fight with Sanji, always wanting to provoke him into a reaction that will lure him into another squabble that will devolve into a fight of his katanas against Sanji’s kicks of iron. 

Today is no such exception. Zoro was feeling antsy, an itch underneath his skin he didn’t know how to scratch. One that started with having too much energy, the kind he didn’t know how to slough off with a nap or alcohol. The kind that got worse as he watched Sanji traverse around the ship with his goofy smiles that were reserved only for the women, watching him intently as he bent over to give Nami and Robin some fruity alcoholic concoction he’d prepared especially for them. 

Sanji didn’t even look his way either. Something that grates on his nerves more than it should. 

“Oi, Cook,” Zoro calls out, lips teasing at a grin. “Where’s my booze, huh?”

“Hah?” Sanji responds, his curly brow twitching in irritation just like Zoro anticipated it would. “Do I look like your servant?”

“More like a waiter.” Zoro shrugs. “But if you think servant is a more fitting term, then so be it.”

With that, Zoro knows that he has Sanji hook, line, and sinker. 

“What did you say?” Sanji grouses out, stomping his foot like a child having a tantrum. 

“Said you look like a servant,” Zoro baits him, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Have a problem with that, Curly?”

Sanji leaves Nami and Robin behind without a second glance, both snickering behind their hands as he stalks over towards Zoro. He towers over Zoro from where he’s sitting down against Sunny’s deck, glowering at him with an intensity that would kill a lesser man. As it stands, however, Zoro is clearly the better man, so he isn’t intimidated by him in the slightest. Nor is he put off by Sanji’s hands which are clenched in fists, fury radiating off him in waves, the force of a thousand splendid suns burning within him. 

This is how Zoro likes Sanji the best. Rearing to fight, parrying his blows like they’re engaged in a dance with an intricate rhythm only they’re privy to, his eyes on nobody else but him. 

“Yeah, I fucking do.” Sanji gets into position. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Zoro unsheathes his katanas. “You can try.”

Which is how Zoro finds himself in yet another fight with Sanji, his swords clanging against Sanji’s flaming kicks. They both use their haki to harden their blows but also to defend against them, Sanji’s kicks skidding against his blades while Zoro’s swords almost cutting Sanji’s skin. Zoro, once again feels himself come alive while he’s fighting Sanji, grinning as he jabs his sword at Sanji’s blind spot only for Sanji to jump back into form elegantly and narrowly avoid it. Knows Zoro’s patterns better than anyone else, falls into this dance with him with a fluidity that only comes from years of fighting against and with each other in countless battles. 

Zoro grabs Sanji’s calf when he least expects it, catching him off guard with his eye widening, but Sanji quickly jumps back and knocks Zoro out with a low kick that sends Zoro toppling to the ground with a winded gasp. Even after all these years, all the fights that lie between them, Zoro still gets taken off guard by Sanji’s dexterity and flexibility. He can just barely keep up, has to constantly train so he doesn’t fall behind.

Training is the last thing on his mind, though, when Sanji straddles him with a hand around his throat. His weight is heavy and his windpipe constricting as spots of black start to color vision. The scent of tobacco and cologne is overwhelming when Sanji is this close, feels as if he's drowning in it, dulling all his senses so that he sees nothing but the breathless smirk on Sanji’s face. 

Rather than think about training, all he can think about is Sanji, how he engulfs him completely.

"Yield, Mosshead," Sanji whispers. "You've lost."

There’s something strangely intimate about it, Zoro thinks distantly. 

"You sure about that?" Zoro points the tip of his blade to Sanji’s throat. Sanji is always quick on his feet but has a nasty habit of forgetting to disarm all three of his swords. "Because I think we're at a stalemate." 

Sanji’s hand tightens around his throat, tight enough to bruise, while the tip of Zoro’s blade breaks skin, drawing a thin line of blood in its wake. Sanji studies him for a moment, scrutinizes him close like he's trying to memorize every single piece of his face. The expression on his face is unreadable, one Zoro isn’t quite sure he’s seen before. But the moment passes, a sigh falls from Sanji’s lips and his grip slackens, all the tension that Zoro hadn't noticed till just now suddenly being let loose. 

Zoro takes that as his cue to let his sword drop. 

"Another draw," Sanji concedes, extricating himself from Zoro’s body. The missing warmth from his body straddling his is already missed; the draft of wind leaving him cold, lacking. "Add it to the tally board." 

Zoro nods without arguing. They’re both breathless, sweaty, and a little bit worse for wear. But Zoro is grinning, and while Sanji is hiding the bottom half of his face with the palm of his hand as he deftly lights his cigarette, Zoro knows that he’s smiling too. 

“278 draws, 78 wins, and 43 losses,” Zoro recounts, adding another mental tally to the list. He pats Sanji’s shoulder mockingly. “Keep trying, Cook, and maybe one day, you’ll get on my level.”

“I will literally end your existence,” Sanji scowls, letting out a wisp of smoke from between his lips. He turns away from him. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have a meal to prepare in the kitchen because I actually don't exist to serve you. Shocking, I know." 

Zoro watches Sanji stalk away from him, the tips of his ears and the back of his neck a deep shade of red that contrast starkly against the sky-blue of his shirt. His own chest feels funny, too, feels a bit warm underneath the collar. The urge to follow Sanji is overwhelming, to call out to him, to see what expression he has on his face right now. 

But the moment fades when he hears a bout of giggling laughter behind him, snagging his attention instead. 

“Could you two get a room?” Nami says, reminding Zoro that Nami and Robin have been there the whole time. Both sipping on the fruity alcoholic concoction that Sanji whipped up for them prior to their fight, the whole reason why Zoro prompted this fight with them in the first place. “Your strange flirting ritual is so awkward for literally everyone else to watch.”

Nami is smirking at him and Robin is laughing coyly, making Zoro feel like he’s the only one missing the joke that he seems to be the punchline of. 

“Excuse me?” Zoro frowns. 

“The two of you are always bickering like an old married couple,” Nami elaborates unhelpfully, taking a sip of her drink. “But it’s charged with tension like you’re in the beginning of your honeymoon phase. It’s weird.”

“And always touching like two touch-starved animals in heat,” Robin adds, clinking her glass against Nami’s. “It’s quite amusing to watch your strange courtship ritual if I’m being honest.”

Zoro blinks, trying to process what they just said, feeling like his brain is breaking in the process. The cook and him acting like they’re married? That’s so ludicrous, Zoro can’t even fathom it. 

Unbidden, his mind conjures a visual of the two of them at an altar. Sanji in one of his smart suits with blue accents, giving Zoro that smile that’s always haunting Zoro’s dreams – the one that’s so wide and bright, his eyes crinkle at the corners – while Zoro stands opposite him in a suit of his own. All their friends are there, too. For once, they aren’t fighting, Sanji is leaning in to kiss him – 

Zoro banishes the illicit thought, throwing it directly into the trash and lighting it on fire, because he has no use for it. 

“You’re both delusional,” Zoro eventually says. “And we’re not in a relationship either. Or married.”

“Hah?” Nami sputters on her drink. “What do you mean you’re not in a relationship?”

“The hell is your problem, sea witch?” Zoro crosses his arms over his chest. “It means that we’re not together. Hell would freeze over before anything started between me and that stupid Curly Brow.” 

The words make Zoro’s chest tighten a bit, his heart feeling heavy, but he ignores it. 

“Oh?” Robin muses, smiling at Nami humorously as she buries her face in despair. “That’s amusing.”

“Again, the hell is your problem?” Zoro prompts, feeling his patience run thin. 

“You’re so stupid,” Nami cries, lifting her face from her hands to kick Zoro’s shin. It doesn’t hurt, but Zoro still hisses at her for hitting him. “I can’t believe you’re this stupid, you just cost me so much money.”

“Come again?” Zoro asks. 

“Yes, money.” Robin smiles at Zoro amicably, offering her hand to Nami. Zoro’s eye widens as he watches Nami cough up what must be at least a hundred thousand berries into her hand. “I suppose since you know that there’s money involved, there’s no harm in letting you know that the whole ship is placing bets on you two.”

“Bets?”

“Yes. We were betting on whether you two were actually together or if you were oblivious.” Robin places the money in her book without counting the bills, and closes it gingerly, Nami sniffing forlornly at her lost money. “Nami was fairly confident that you were already dating because of how domestic you are with Sanji. I had a feeling that it wasn’t necessarily the case, at least not yet.”

Zoro is dumbfounded by the information that has just been dumped onto his head like a bucket of ice-cold water. He opens his mouth, then closes it, not quite sure what to say. Part of him wants to kill them all for making bets about the cook and him of all people, but he’s too flabbergasted to summon up the right amount of anger. 

Mainly, he’s just shocked to find out that their crewmates genuinely believe that the cook and him are together. An absurd concept by all means. 

But if so, then why is his heart jackhammering in his chest a million miles per minute?

“The whole crew is in on it?” Zoro prompts. 

“Yes.” Robin nods.

“Betting on the Cook and I…getting together?” Zoro reiterates. 

“Yes.” Nami rolls her eyes. “You’re basically together already for all intents and purposes.”

“I hope you lose every single berry in your savings,” Zoro tells her. “Anyway, me and him aren’t like that. And we won’t be either.”

The kitchen door slams open, Sanji kicking it open violently with a tray balanced on his hand with drinks and a plate of food on it. He glares at Zoro as he offers him the tray with a plate of onigiri on it, his favorite food, and a bottle of sake in his other hand. 

“Here you go, stupid Mosshead,” Sanji tells him, glowering at him as Zoro accepts both items bemusedly. “You wanted booze, didn’t you? Here you go then.” 

“I didn’t ask for food,” Zoro says, staring at the onigiri. 

“I gotta make sure you stay in good health, and you shouldn’t be drinking on an empty stomach because it’s bad for you.” Sanji rolls his eyes. “God knows you barely take care of yourself as it is. It’s a wonder how you’re still alive.”

It’s almost as if Sanji is worried about his well-being. Zoro swallows with difficulty, shoving his treacherous heart that had climbed its way up to his throat all the way down again. 

“Right,” Zoro says. “Thanks, I guess.”

Sanji nods curtly, turning towards Nami and Robin with a much brighter smile, who are smiling innocuously at them both in a way that makes Zoro’s skin crawl. Sanji only swoons, none the wiser of what they were just discussing. 

“Would you fine ladies like anything else?”

“No thanks.” Nami waves him off. “We’re golden. Thank you, Sanji-kun.”

Sanji hums, picking up the girls’ empty glasses placing them on the now empty tray, and sauntering off with an extra pep to his step. Zoro very carefully avoids making eye contact with the girls now, because he knows the twin devilish expressions they must be wearing right now. 

“You know, Robin, now that I know they aren’t actually together, I kind of just feel bad for him now,” Nami says, but the humor inflected in her tone betrays no such thing. She turns towards him, smirking at him now. “How are you holding up with those feelings, big guy?”

“Die,” Zoro replies, in lack of anything else to say. “I’m leaving now.”

Zoro takes the booze with him and makes sure to eat the onigiri that Sanji prepared specifically for him. It’s delicious, like everything else Sanji makes, but his onigiri is always a treat. The rice soft and the flavors exploding on his tongue, eating each one slowly to savor the taste between sips of sake. The onigiri, he realizes, has just enough salt in them that they’re flavorful while complementing the sake, something that must have been intentional on Sanji’s part.

Zoro curses underneath his breath at the realization, hates that Sanji would do something so stupidly considerate for him, but he knows better than to waste his food. Grumbles in frustration while chewing on his onigiri, telling himself that it means nothing. That Sanji would have done the same thing for anyone else.

He tries to get drunk with the booze, but his tolerance is too high, and the sound of Nami and Robin’s words continues to haunt Zoro for a long while afterward.

Sanji and him? It would never happen, Zoro is absolutely sure of it.

II. Usopp

It's just another day on the Thousand Sunny. 

The ship is embarked by an island, and the three relegated to watch duty are Zoro, Sanji, and him. There are no eminent threats upon the horizon, though, so it’s just relaxing. Zoro napping in the sunlight, while Sanji and Usopp are fishing for today’s lunch.

Fishing is one of the hobbies that Usopp grew a fondness for over time. At first, it made him restless, would rather be fighting a battle worthy of an Elbaf tale or creating mischief with Luffy, but he learned to appreciate it. Fishing is one of the only times that Usopp is allowed to just be for a little while of time, just him and the big blue sea, taking his time catching fish alongside a friend or two. For a little while, it's almost as if the big scary world of pirates and sea kings that he's entrenched in has been put on pause, and he's nothing more than a simple sailor at sea.  

His father, Yasopp, would probably mock him for thinking in such a sentimental way like an old man, but Usopp doesn't care. Besides, they have to eat, and Sanji would tear him a new one if Usopp didn't help him get the ship’s food for the day. 

Speaking of Sanji, he's idly humming a tune around his cigarette, smoke idly wafting from the orange embers and disappearing in the blue air. Neither of them is talking much, or Usopp will recount some of his tall tales of bravery to Sanji, who will always hum and nod as if he's not really listening, but Usopp knows that Sanji always listens to everything he has to say. Knows it because Sanji always knows all the details of all his stories when he asks him where they left off, doesn't call him a liar, only smiles at him because he seems to enjoy them. If Usopp thinks about it, Sanji is probably the reason why he came to like fishing so much in the first place. Fishing is the main time he gets to spend in Sanji’s company, the two bonding over tranquil waters and Usopp’s stories for entertainment. Not far off, Zoro naps by the deck next to them. 

The grand adventures and the epic battles of heroism are some of the best parts of being a pirate, Usopp thinks, but there's definitely a lot to appreciate about the slower moments, too. 

“Hmm?” Sanji makes a sound of curiosity, tugging Usopp from his reverie. “I think there's a big fish tugging on my line.”

Surely enough, Usopp sees a violent tug on Sanji’s fishing line. It's a testament to the strength of Sanji’s grip that the handle doesn't immediately slip from his hands at that violent tug, or snap in half, but another one sends Sanji reeling forward. Usopp lets out a sound of distress, not knowing what to do. 

“Oh my God, let go of the fishing line, Sanji –”

Usopp doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence, watches in horror as Sanji’s handle cracks in his hand. Sanji tries to reel whatever is trying so desperately to pull him into the water, but ultimately fails, Sanji’s whole person is instead tugged into the water with a loud splash. Usopp watches, gasping as Sanji’s body is rapidly dragged under the water’s surface. 

It must be a sea king that dragged him under, oh God, this isn't good at all. 

“Sanji!” Usopp yells, his eyes already starting to sting. “Oh God, Sanji is going to become sea king meat. Sanji, no, oh no.” 

He waits, hands clenched around the Sunny’s rail, for Sanji to emerge. Sea kings are usually a piece of cake for Sanji, can usually kick them into submission, mince them up into their next meal without breaking a sweat. Sanji is also an amazing swimmer, can go for almost seven whole minutes without needing to break for air, can even fight under water, too. He’s strong and reliable like that.

But Sanji doesn’t emerge, and if he isn’t hallucinating right now, there’s a faint tinge of red staining the water surface around the place where Sanji was dragged under. Fuck.

A hundred and one scenarios start whirring through Usopp’s head a million miles per second, going through every option quickly as he tries to decide what he should do in this kind of situation. Should Usopp jump in too? But what if whatever nabbed Sanji, nabs him too, and then they’ll both be dead meat? Usopp can swim, sure, but he’s not as good at swimming as Sanji who’s the one who is literally drowning right now. What would be the benefit if they both drowned, though? But would it be cowardly if he did nothing to help at all? Usopp is no coward, or at least he tries not to be, but he doesn’t want them to both drown with nobody else on the ship being any the wiser. 

Frantically, Usopp looks left and right to see who can help him, but there’s nobody in sight except Zoro who is already starting to stir from his nap. He was probably awoken by all of Usopp’s panicking and wailing. He isn’t sorry about it. 

“Usopp?” Zoro prompts. “What are you panicking about now?” 

“It's Sanji.” Usopp swallows. “He fell overboard.”

“Hah? The cook fell into the water?” Zoro snickers to himself, looking entirely unbothered. “Don't worry about him so much, he's the best swimmer on the crew.”

“I dunno, Zoro.” Usopp shakes his head. “He's been down there for a while now.” At least it feels like it’s been a while, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t have a watch on him. It could have been seconds, minutes even. How long can Sanji last underwater again? “I - what if he drowns?”

The humor on Zoro’s face dissipates immediately, his expression turning stony. He stands up, walking over till he's standing where Sanji was once seated. His cigarettes are strewn on the floor by Zoro’s boots, as well as his collection of bait. Zoro looks between them and the tranquil blue water that almost looks undisturbed in front of them save for that ominous tinge of red that floats on the surface. 

Zoro seems to make his decision much faster than Usopp did, letting out a deep sigh as he sheds his yukata and drops it unceremoniously onto the deck by Sanji’s things. 

“That stupid cook better thank me for this later,” Zoro says, before he dives into the water headfirst. 

Usopp bites his nails, anxiously watching the surface of the water, each second seemingly lasting a lifetime, a mix of concern and self-loathing bleeding together. Hoping desperately that the two of them both make it, but also hating himself for not taking the plunge so easily like Zoro just did. 

Zoro didn’t even hesitate. 

He doesn’t get a chance to dwell on his own negativity, however, because he can already see a ripple in the calm waters. The ripple is followed by a violent splash, Zoro emerging from the water with Sanji in tow, Sanji’s body still in Zoro’s arms with a trickle of red lining the side of his forehead. 

That doesn’t look good, Usopp thinks, as he helps pull Zoro and Sanji up onto the deck. Chopper is with Luffy and the others on the island, however, so he can’t even help if Sanji’s situation is serious and requires medical attention. They’ll just have to make do on their own, but what Usopp sees doesn’t bode well at all. Sanji’s chest is still, doesn’t even look like he’s breathing, and Zoro is panting as he glowers at Sanji’s lifeless body. 

“This dumbass got himself carried away fighting a sea king and then took a hit to his own head trying to fight it,” Zoro elaborates, already placing his hands over his chest, palpitating them to try to get his chest moving. “If he dies, I’ll go back down to hell and kill him again myself.”

“Please don’t say that,” Usopp moans, covering his face with his hands, but keeps a slit open with his fingers so he can watch. “Oh God, where is Chopper when you need him, he’d know what to do right now.”

Zoro doesn’t respond, his face stony with grim seriousness, applying more pressure to Sanji’s chest. Usopp doesn’t think he’s ever seen Zoro look so serious. Eventually, when Usopp was about to start sobbing in despair, Sanji sputters. He coughs on the water, expelling it from his chest, which Usopp thinks is a good sign. 

Except Sanji’s chest remains still, his eyes are still closed, and he still isn’t breathing. Zoro's glare sharpens and Usopp can tell that he wasn't expecting the CPR to last this long, that he's starting to lose his composure despite him always being a beacon of calm – and often frustrating – confidence. 

“Why isn’t he breathing yet?” Usopp asks. 

“Fuck,” Zoro whispers. He palpitates Sanji’s chest again, then leans in close to Sanji’s face. “You can fight me about this later when you wake up.”

Usopp’s eyes widen as he watches Zoro pinch the soft part of Sanji’s nose, slotting his lips over Sanji’s, and breathing directly into his parted lips. There's a natural ease to the motion that makes Usopp wonder if he's done this before, albeit in less life-threatening situations, which makes Usopp avert his eyes from the moment that screams of a close intimacy that he's intruding on.

Distantly, Usopp thinks about the bet that Nami prompted several months ago. The one about whether Zoro and Sanji were an item already or if they were just stupidly in love. Looking at Zoro now, how desperately he tries to breathe life into Sanji’s still body with his own lips, he starts to wonder if it's a strange mix of both. 

Zoro curses, palpitating Sanji’s chest again, then bending over to breathe into his mouth. He repeats this motion three times until Sanji coughs, his chest starting to move again, and Usopp feels the heavy weight on his chest alleviate as the buoyant relief takes over instead. 

“Sanji!” Usopp exclaims, watching Sanji’s eyelids flutter open. “You're awake!” 

He squeaks, though, when he sees Zoro flick Sanji’s forehead unceremoniously, leaving an angry red welt in its place. Sanji’s eyes snap fully open at the swelling pain, glaring at Zoro. 

“The fuck is your problem, Mosshead?” 

Usopp realizes then that Sanji must not know that Zoro just brought him back to life with literal mouth to mouth just moments ago. 

Sanji sits up rubbing his forehead. He winces then, realizing the open wound at the side of his head that's still bleeding, making Usopp realize that they should probably get that patched up. He moves to gather the first aid kit, pausing when Zoro clenches his hands into fists. 

“You're my problem, you stupid cook,” Zoro replies. “You almost died.”

“I did?” Sanji implores, bemused. That's when Usopp realizes that Sanji’s blue eyes look a bit hazy, like he's got a concussion. “I - I - maybe? I remember fishing normally and then getting dragged into the water and there was this…giant eel, a sea king, and I tried to fight it. I – I can’t remember anything after that...”

“You drowned, idiot,” Zoro says through gritted teeth. “How could you almost die in such a pathetic way?”

Usopp covers his mouth, not knowing what to say. He's rarely ever seen Zoro this angry, no he’s furious actually, and he looks absolutely terrifying at that, too. 

“So what? What does it matter to you anyway?” Sanji looks around him for his cigarettes, which Usopp hands him along with his lighter wordlessly. His hands tremble as he struggles with the lighter, cursing until he finally gets it working, lighting his cigarette and taking a quick drag. “It’s not like you have any reason to care.”

If Usopp isn’t mistaken, the issue is precisely that Zoro cares too much. 

It’s kind of funny seeing Zoro and Sanji interact so explosively with each other, both always arguing yet sharing a bond that nobody else would ever be able to understand or replicate. It reminds him a little of his relationship with Kaya, how he’d move mountains for her, but would also get so frustrated if she put herself in harm’s way without a second thought to herself. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Zoro replies. “Of course I care, dumbass.”

Usopp definitely feels like he’s intruding now. Especially with the way Sanji stares at him, his mouth ajar with his cigarette teetering precariously on his bottom lip, a deep blush staining his cheeks red. Sanji blinks once, twice, then gathers his bearings and shakes his head. 

“Whatever.” Sanji blows out a puff of smoke. “I - I have shit to do. Luffy’ll probably be back soon.”

“Sanji, wait, the wound on your head -” Usopp starts, but Sanji isn’t listening. 

He tries to stand up, but he stumbles as he does, Usopp flailing to catch him before he falls but Zoro beats him to the punch. He wraps his arms around the small of Sanji’s waist, breaking his fall, bracketing him against his chest. Sanji, instead of shoving Zoro off of him and trying to bite his head off, melts into the embrace. For only a moment, closing his eyes as he lets Zoro steady him on his two feet, glowering at Zoro weakly all the while. 

The blush on his face really isn’t helping Sanji’s case at all. He bites his bottom lip, his visible eye widening as a moment of realization hits him. Usopp could swear that Zoro’s eyes just flitted there for a fraction of a second. If he’d blinked, he would have missed it, but there’s no way that Usopp would blink while watching a spectacle like this. 

Sanji pushes himself away from Zoro’s loose embrace, averting his gaze from him. His eyes meet Usopp’s, his eyebrow twitching as he looks away from him, too. 

“I’m going now.” Sanji turns on his heel and leaves, albeit swaying a bit, but otherwise looks fine. Usopp watches him till he disappears into the kitchen, slamming the door loudly behind him, then turns toward Zoro. 

“Don’t you dare say anything,” Zoro says through gritted teeth. 

“I didn’t say anything.” Usopp raises his hands, biting down on his bottom lip because a desperate urge to laugh is starting to overwhelm him. “Nothing at all.”

“It’s not what it looks like,” Zoro continues, crossing his arms over his soaked chest. “Or whatever you think it looks like. I swear.”

“Yeah, of course.” Usopp nods sagely, knowing full well it’s exactly what it looks like. “I believe you.” 

He’d put his money on Zoro and Sanji being two idiots stuck in the denial phase when Nami and him concocted this bet together earlier this year, but they’re so clearly together, it’s hilarious. And frankly, quite embarrassing. He can’t wait to tell Nami about everything that just happened and cash in on his money. 

“I will literally kill you.” Zoro unsheathes one of his swords. “You’ve seen too much. 

Zoro chases Usopp around the deck, threatening to kill him if he tells anyone about what just happened. Usopp is a bit terrified, but the tea is piping hot and he can’t wait to spill it. The brave warrior Usopp will take a gander at with the brunt of Zoro’s wrath for the sake of sharing steamy gossip.

III. Zoro

Winter islands are never fun. 

Zoro doesn’t care for them by any means. They’re always the same to him, desolate wastelands full of snow and blizzards, temperature always in the negatives. There’s hardly any life on those islands, nothing but frigid drafts of wind and ominous promises of pneumonia on the horizon. That’s why the main challenge on those islands is rarely the enemies, but trying to avoid dying in the snow. 

For Zoro, though, that’s often part of the excitement. It’s about training his body to survive even in the most hellish of conditions, mind over matter, that kind of thing. His body always runs hot, so jackets tend to be nothing but dead weight on his body that only serve to further suffocate him. 

The same can’t be said about Sanji, though. He’s the type to always pile up on jackets, wear scarves and gloves, and smoke cigarettes like a chimney just to fill his body with a semblance of warmth. Usually, Zoro would mock him for it, but with how much he’s currently shivering, Zoro decides to save it for later.

There’s a blizzard raging outside, their party – composed of Chopper, Sanji, and him – have been separated from the rest of the group. It’s as cold as if hell had actually frozen over, the kind of temperature that no living creature would be able to live in, and they were lucky enough to find a cave amidst the blizzard to at least shelter themselves from the biting cold wind.

With Sanji’s lighter and some pages from Chopper’s medical textbook that were tearfully ripped from them, Zoro even managed to get a fire going so they don’t freeze to death. The flickering flames is already enough to provide Zoro with warmth, Chopper humming contentedly as he curls up by the flame to take a nap, but Sanji continues to tremble. He’s curled up in a ball to preserve some body warmth, his teeth clamped down harshly on his cigarette as his teeth chatter around it, his pale skin starting to tinge blue.

Sanji looks like he’s suffering, but there’s not really much that can be done except wait out the blizzard and sit by the fire.

“Damn,” Zoro muses underneath his breath. Is it really that cold?

He looks down at the furry jacket that Nami forced him to wear on the ship, letting out a sigh as he sheds it off his shoulders, wordlessly passing it to Sanji. Sanji doesn’t notice his proffered hand at first, but when he does, his eye widens.

“I don’t need your charity,” Sanji tells him, looking away from him stubbornly. “I’m not cold.”

“You’re literally freezing to death,” Zoro tells him, unamused by Sanji’s false bravado. “I’m not even cold, just take the damn jacket.”

“No.” Sanji shakes his head. “I’m already wearing a jacket; I don’t need yours atop of mine.”

“Don’t be difficult, it’s not the time for it,” Zoro says. “Just take the jacket, and when we leave this cave, I’ll take it back.”

Zoro has no plans to do any such thing, but it’s also what Sanji needs to hear to let out a sigh, taking the jacket from Zoro with a huff. Except he doesn’t put it on like Zoro expected he would, rather, he scoots closer to Zoro until their bodies are almost touching. He drapes the jacket over them both from the front like he would a blanket, sighing at the extra layer of warmth.

“There we go,” Sanji says, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Now we can both be warm.”

“I wasn’t even cold,” Zoro scoffs, but he shifts closer to Sanji so that their shoulders are touching. Like this, he can feel how Sanji’s body was freezing, even through the layers of his clothes. Hopes that them touching like this will give Sanji an extra source of warmth. “See? I’m warm.”

Zoro really does feel warm all over right now, his body heating up from the inside like hot lava, doesn’t think he’s ever been this close to Sanji before except for when they’re fighting. And well, that one time with the mouth to mouth, but Zoro resolutely refuses to think about that right now. Not when Sanji is right here, so close, he might be able to read his thoughts if he did. Rather, he should focus his efforts on pretending it didn’t happen at all. If he pretends it didn’t happen, then it didn’t, it’s as simple as that.

He says this, but in reality, all such efforts to forget it have been rendered futile.

“I can see that,” Sanji muses, melting against Zoro’s frame, burying his face into Zoro’s jacket. “You’re basically a human bear, so warm.”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Zoro replies, feeling a little warm underneath his collar. “I always run warm, so. You don’t have to be cold when I’m around.”

Zoro hears Sanji suck in a deep breath, probably caught off guard by what he just said. He shifts to rescind it, backpedal with an insult to layer over the mortifying thing he just said, but Sanji only snuggles in closer against his shoulder. His hair is soft, so soft, against Zoro’s skin, soft enough to make him itch with the urge to touch it.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Sanji whispers.

Oh, Zoro thinks, Oh. Alright then.

There’s a loud thrumming sound echoing within the cave. Zoro tries to zero in on it, find what the source is, but Chopper is still sleeping by the flame and Sanji doesn’t seem to be on high alert at all. It takes Zoro a moment to realize that the loud reverberating echo he’s hearing is coming from his own chest, his own heart thumping like a caged bird trying to be set free.

His hand twitches, wanting to put pressure over his chest to make it stop, but his hand is trapped between him and Sanji. He’s frozen to this spot, finds it impossible to move, but his heart won’t stop beating so wildly, regardless.

It makes Zoro think about the bet that’s going around the Sunny. About how he’d ultimately decided not to tell Sanji about it. Partially, because he knows that Sanji would freak out and have a stroke if he found out about the nature of the bet, especially that it’s being perpetuated by the two demonic women on the ship. Mostly, because well, Zoro knows that it would change things between them. Sanji would become awkward, unsure how to act around Zoro, suddenly all too conscious of how they’re being perceived by the others. Zoro doesn’t want that. No, he wants everything between them to stay the same.

Nothing between them has to change because this is how they are and how they’ve always been is what works out for them both.

It’s also why he decides not to murder the rest of the crewmates for making bets about them behind their backs, because it’s a conversation he’d rather not have at all. They’re delusional for thinking anything of the sort, stupid even, but a niggling curiosity still nags at the back of his mind. A thought, a question, wondering what each person thinks of them, who thinks they're together already and who assumes that they're just desperately in love. He already knows what Nami and Robin think, has a suspicion about Usopp, but what of the rest? What about Luffy? 

“You’re thinking so hard, I can hear it from over here,” Sanji chastises him. He turns to look at him, his face so close to Zoro’s, his visible blue eye scrutinizing him. “What are you thinking about? Tell me.”

“Nothing.” Zoro looks down. “Nothing important anyway.”

What is Zoro thinking about? He’s thinking about what Sanji would think if he knew about the bet. After the initial wave of shock faded, what would he think? What would he say? Would he be repulsed by the idea of it, or would he be willing to entertain the fantasy of them being an item? 

But Zoro would never stoop so low as to ask. 

“Liar.” Sanji blows smoke in Zoro’s face, making his eyes sting at the acrid scent of tobacco and ash. His lips curl into a smirk. “Just tell me. I’m good at keeping secrets, you know.”

Zoro’s eye flits towards Sanji’s lips, taking in how his cigarette is nestled against the plump part of his bottom lip, how the color is starting to come back to his lips. To his face, too.

He swallows. Can’t help but think, treacherously, about the feel of Sanji’s lips against his. In the heat of the moment, he'd paid no mind to it, so blinded with his fear by how pale and dead Sanji looked to the world. But now that the moment had passed, his anger dissipating, all Zoro could think about was the fact that he pressed his lips to Sanji’s. It was for a good cause, sure, but it basically counts as a kiss, doesn't it?

Sanji’s lips were so soft against his own chapped lips, Zoro thinks. He wouldn't mind kissing him again, probably, just to see what it would feel like when Sanji was awake to kiss him back. To remember it.

“I –”

“The blizzard stopped, guys!” Chopper exclaims, interrupting Zoro before he could get anything out. “Finally! Now we can go find Luffy and the others.”

Zoro and Sanji jump apart from each other, as if they’d been caught red handed doing something they shouldn’t have. Like that, the rare moment of vulnerability is fractured, the tension dissipated. Zoro nods, plastering what he hopes looks like a neutral expression onto his face as he looks at Chopper.

“That’s good,” Zoro says, standing up, letting his jacket droop onto Sanji without him there to share the heat with. “We should head out before the storm starts again.”

What was Zoro even going to say to Sanji? What was he going to do? It feels like he was about to do something stupid, something he wouldn’t have been able to take back.

His mind has been all over the place lately.

Sanji stands up too. “Mosshead, your jacket –”

“Keep it.” Zoro shrugs. He grins at him. “I’ll be fine.”

Sanji curses, but he doesn’t fight him on it for once, putting it on atop his own jacket. Zoro tries not to think about how good emerald-green looks on Sanji, complementing his pale skin and blonde hair perfectly, the jacket loose on his frame because of how much bigger Zoro is than him. He looks away from him, doesn’t need to be thinking about how pretty Sanji is. But just as Zoro is about to take a step outside the cave, Zoro is stopped by a scarf wrapping around his neck.

Sanji took off his own red scarf, wrapping it around Zoro’s neck, tying it in an intricate bow that Zoro would be hard-pressed to unfold without tearing the scarf. Zoro looks at Sanji quizzically, but Sanji only grins at him. That wide grin that makes the corners of his eye crinkle, the one that makes Zoro’s chest tighten.

“Now you look like a mistletoe instead of a mosshead.” Sanji pats Zoro’s shoulder, his warmth bleeding through the fabric of Zoro’s yukata. “A warm one at that.”

Aren’t mistletoes the thing that people kiss underneath? Zoro stares at Sanji, not wondering if that was a misstep from Sanji or if he’s implying something. He wants to ask, but what will he do with the answer he receives?

Sanji’s hand drops from Zoro’s shoulder, lighting another cigarette as he leaves the cave, waiting for Zoro and Chopper to follow. Chopper walks by Zoro’s side, humming contentedly because he loves the cold.

“I’m really happy for Sanji and you,” Chopper tells him, his voice low so Sanji doesn’t overhear. “You seem to bring the best out in each other.”

“What?” Zoro chokes. “Not you too, Chopper. It’s not like that, I promise.”

“It’s not?” Chopper cocks his head to the side. “I always assumed that you were mates. Or whatever the human equivalent to mates is.”

Zoro is going to literally kill himself. Or kill Sanji first and then kill himself afterwards.

“No, Chopper, it’s not.” Zoro shakes his head, refusing to get angry at Chopper. He’ll just murder the sea witch and Usopp later for cramming these ideas into his head. “We’re not anything like that.”

“But Sanji is always making special meals for you and you’re always looking out for Sanji,” Chopper points out, looking genuinely confused. “You saved his life multiple times. Even now, you gave him your jacket, and he gave you his scarf. Isn’t that something only mates do?”

“Can you stop saying ‘mates’, because it’s weird?” Zoro whispers through gritted teeth. “I told you it’s not like that. We’re just…”

They’re just what? They aren’t friends for sure. Crewmates doesn’t quite cover what they are either. Enemies, despite them always fighting, doesn’t seem to be the right word either.

What exactly are Zoro and Sanji?

“What are you guys whispering in the back about?” Sanji turns around, cocking an eyebrow at them. “Is there an enemy nearby?”

“Oh, we were just talking about –”

“About how the wind is picking up, so we better walk faster before the blizzard picks up again,” Zoro cuts off Chopper bluntly.

“Oh yeah, you’re right.” Sanji blanches, blowing out a wisp of water vapor that dissipates in the cold air. “We should probably go back to the Sunny. At least it’s warm there.”

Zoro nods, but he isn’t really listening, doesn’t even argue when Sanji pokes fun about him having to stay with him so he doesn’t get lost. No, he keeps thinking about Chopper’s question.

What are Sanji and him?

IV. Luffy

To Luffy, new islands always mean new adventures. That’s the best part about being a pirate. It’s exhilarating; always discovering new things, fighting dangerous foes while making new friends along the way, and eating the best food on every island.

Luffy loves it.

What Luffy doesn’t love, however, is coming to a cool new island full of animal people that treat them like heroes, but Sanji isn’t there. He’s not there because he left before them, leaving some stupid letter about how he’s leaving the strawhats to go get married to a girl he doesn’t even know. Even if Sanji loves women a lot, the same way Luffy loves meat, he doubts Sanji would go off to get married to a girl he doesn’t know willingly. He also knows without a shadow of a doubt that Sanji would never leave the strawhats behind, not even for the prettiest girl.

Not to mention that Sanji loves Zoro, too, so none of it makes sense. Ugh, Luffy hates thinking so hard. Thinking is more so Robin and Nami’s thing.

“The cook left to get hitched with some girl? Good riddance,” Zoro says. “We should all just forget about him. He’s the one who defected when we’re about to go into a war.”

Luffy could sense the pain inflected in Zoro’s voice, faint, but certainly there. He doesn’t say anything, though, because there isn’t really anything to say. Sanji left and Zoro is angry about it. Probably worried, too.

Even later when he gets told a lot of details that helps things make a little more sense, but not by a lot, he’s still upset about it. Luffy doesn’t really care about the details, though, he never has. He doesn’t care what reasons Sanji might have for leaving, only cares that Sanji comes back.

The only cook he’ll ever accept onto his ship is Sanji. Nobody makes food better than Sanji.

It’s as easy as that for Luffy, his mind already made up to go to Whole Cake Island and bring Sanji back. Wano can wait a little while longer, knows that there’s no way he can embark on his next adventure without Sanji there.

When he leaves the medical room, however, he finds Zoro sitting outside. He’d been eavesdropping. Luffy grins.

“I knew you care about Sanji.” Luffy laughs. “Even if you try to pretend like you don’t.”

“Don’t make me kick you,” Zoro repeats Sanji’s own line, muscles flexing imperceptibly. “I told you to leave that idiot behind.”

Luffy knows for a fact that Zoro never meant that. Usually, Zoro says what he means, so straightforward. Especially with him. Whenever it comes to Sanji, on the other hand, it’s like all he can ever do is lie.

But Zoro isn’t a very good liar and Luffy knows him too well.

“I won’t leave Sanji behind, I’ll bring him back,” Luffy replies with confidence. “Even if I didn’t, I know you’d go back and get him yourself.”

“I told you that I don’t care.”

“You do,” Luffy insists, cocking his head to the side. “You care about him a lot. And that’s okay.”

Zoro’s eye widens, pauses the same way Franky does when he starts to malfunction after an intense fight, but then he nods curtly.

“Thanks. Try not to get lost on your way to Wano.”

“That’s what Nami is for!” Luffy grins.

The conversation is cut short, however, by Law’s crew and the animal people bombarding them. It’s okay, Luffy thinks, because Zoro already looks a lot lighter than he did earlier. Zoro has always trusted Luffy to follow through on his word, and on his part, he’s never broken a promise.

Luffy promises to himself that he’ll definitely bring Sanji back.

V. Zoro

Zoro didn’t think about Sanji at all after he left.

There was no time to spare him any thought. His situation, whether he’d gotten married or not, what was going on in Whole Cake Island; none of it was any of his business. Sanji didn’t tell them about any of it, hadn’t told Zoro about anything, so why should Zoro care? It didn’t matter. No, there were more pressing things to worry about. Namely, the war that was brewing in Wano, the one he’d be standing on the front lines of.

That’s what he kept telling himself over and over the whole time he was in Wano anyway.

But when he sees Sanji again in Wano selling soba at a stand he must have built himself, radiant in his white and yellow kimono, Zoro feels his chest swell with a slurry of emotions he didn’t know how to decipher. An inchoate mix of relief, happiness, and…something else he didn’t want to name all surging to the surface. Sanji hasn’t noticed him, is busy serving a child some soba – the captivating scent of which fills the entire street, people rallying from all over to get a taste of his food – with a large smile on his face. Zoro stands there, watching Sanji exist in Wano like he belongs there, like he’d never left the strawhats. He looks bright, shining but light and buoyant enough to shine like a star amongst men, blinding to look at for too long.

It was only a week Sanji was gone but seeing him again had felt almost the same way it had when Sanji found him after two years apart on Sabaody. The same puzzling sensation filled his chest, of relief and an incessant want, except it feels even stronger now. Harder to ignore.

When Sanji turns, immediately picking out Zoro in the crowd of people, his wide grin softened around his cigarette into an expression he’d rarely ever seen Sanji wear. Zoro swallows, realizing then and there that he’d been lying to himself all this time. He hasn’t stopped thinking about Sanji even once during this past week. He doesn’t even know why he left or what exactly happened in Whole Cake Island, but Zoro finds that he doesn’t care. None of it matters. Not when he wants nothing more than to reach out to him, ask him to never do something so stupid as leave again.

Sanji is supposed to stay here, with the strawhats, with him.

But Zoro will do no such thing. Of course, he wouldn’t. There’s no time for that array of emotions in Wano, not with an ongoing war happening, one that they might not all survive. It would be selfish to. Besides, Zoro has never been too good with his words.

Sanji saunters towards him, the scent of tobacco and cologne that Zoro would never be able to forget, engulfing all his senses and shoving them into overdrive.

“You should take a picture, Mosshead, it might last you longer.” Sanji’s lips quirked upwards. Then he turns towards Zoro’s companion, giving her that smarmy grin that always makes Zoro’s skin crawl in the worst way. “Though, I'd happily give you any signed photos of myself, Mademoiselle.”

That's when Zoro remembers that he isn't alone. That he's flanked by the girl who helped nurse him back to health when he passed out earlier. Hitori or something, he doesn't remember, but she insists on clinging to him even though Zoro already thanked her for her services. Frankly, it's getting kind of annoying. 

Especially when he can see Sanji directing his heart eyes towards her, when initially, his eyes had only been on him. 

“Oh, thank you, I couldn't possibly.” Hitori clings to Zoro's sleeve, causing Sanji’s smile to tighten, his brow twitching ever so slightly. 

“What would anyone do with a picture of your ugly mug?” Zoro intervenes, crossing his arms. “You always look dumb as hell in all your Wanted posters.”

“What did you say?” Sanji turns away from Hitori to glare at Zoro, nostrils flaring. “That's rich coming from a human broccoli.”

“Broccoli?” Zoro exclaims incredulously, clenching his fists around his swords. “Look who's talking, Dart Brow.” 

And yet, for as annoying as Sanji can often be, Zoro can’t help but feel like the whole balance of the world is righted again with Sanji bickering with him like this, just as if he never left. As if there hadn’t been a rift the size of the grand line itself formed between them when Sanji decided to go and get married.

It makes Zoro feel pathetic.

“Just admit it.” Sanji rather than rising to the bait, passes a bowl of soba to Hitori and another into Zoro’s hands, throwing an arm around him in a show of casual kinship they’ve never possessed. “You missed me.”

Zoro stuffs his mouth full with the most delicious soba he’d ever tried, trying to ignore the implications of Sanji’s words. And the weight of Hitori's stare that's burning a hole into the side of his head with her judgment. 

“Yeah, sure, I guess I missed your food.”

“Mhm,” Sanji hums in a sing-song tune, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Whatever you say, Mosshead.” 

In lieu of a proper response, Zoro all but shoves more food into his mouth so he wouldn’t have to say what he really feels; that he really did miss Sanji himself, and how terrifying that realization is for him. 

Zoro’s never been dependent on anyone before. And yet, he's become dependent on Sanji in a way he doesn't prefer. Always wants him to be there, wants to fight him, sure, but also wants to fight alongside him. Wants to eat his food only because everything else tastes like shit and booze doesn't hit the same when Sanji isn't there to nag him about his intake. 

When Zoro thought Sanji would leave and never come back, he'd felt hollow inside. Lost, nobody there to tether him, to gently tell him ‘Don’t get lost’ or ‘Let me come with you so you don’t get lost along the way’ the way Sanji was often prone to do. And now that he's back, he feels like all the broken shards that were probing his open wounds have been removed and are being put back together again. 

It's just better this way, with him here. 

“Hey, mister, can I have some more soba?” a child asks, proffering an empty bowl towards Sanji. She looks apprehensive, like she’s afraid that asking for seconds will earn her a reprimand. “Please?”

Sanji who has always been good with kids despite all his claims that he isn’t, only hums, patting her head with a warm smile. “Of course! There’s always room for seconds.” He squeezes Zoro’s shoulder, smiling at Hitori. “If you’ll excuse me. I’ve got a line of people who are in need of my services.”

Zoro watches him walk away with the little girl, his hand in hers as she thanks him for the food, Sanji dismissing her gratitude like it’s nothing. There’s a lightness to his step now, a buoyancy, like there’d been an invisible set of chains that were tying him down before that have been cut. Now, he’s free to spread his wings, free to be happy.

Happiness looks good on him, Zoro thinks distantly.

“Wow,” Hitori breathes. “Of course I never had a chance with you. I ought to apologize for pursuing you while you were already taken.”

Zoro groans. Not this bullshit again. He doesn’t even care about her apparent admission of her feelings towards him. All he can think about is how that stupid bet continues to haunt him, even with people who should have no knowledge of it.

“Can you not?”

“Not what?” Hitori prompts, tilting her head to the side. “You love him, don’t you?”

Typically, someone saying something so ludicrous would offend him. He’d get irritated, defensive, ready to bite someone’s head off just for insinuating that he would ever stoop so low as to fall in love with someone else, let alone someone as stupid and infuriating as Sanji.

But this time, he only sighs. Maybe because it’s not the first time that someone has insinuated that they’re together. Maybe because the thought of them being together doesn’t bother him as much as it once did. A thought he’s started to entertain more and more lately, especially during his darkest hours, when he’s drunk and alone with too much time to think about blonde and insufferable cooks with blue eyes brighter than the ocean itself.

It was nothing more than a silly bet that started all of this, that crammed these nonsensical thoughts into Zoro’s head, but he can’t let go of the possibilities that bet has opened up for him. Feels as if that bet, as stupid as it is, has finally put things into perspective for him. Words he’d never been able to express, feelings he didn’t know how to put together to construe them into something legible, are finally starting to make sense. Which is scary, but Zoro doesn’t make a habit of running from things that he fears but would rather face them with his chest.

What if everyone is seeing something that only Zoro and Sanji can’t? What if it was true? Would they be good together if there was a modicum of truth to those people’s words?

“I don’t.” Zoro moves to take another bite of soba, frowning when he finds that the bowl is empty now. “Don’t look into things too deeply.”

Sometimes, he thinks that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Being with Sanji that is.

Maybe him being in love with Sanji isn’t as ludicrous as he initially assumed. He wonders when that changed, wants to blame it on the bet for putting unwanted ideas in his head and emotions in his heart, but part of him thinks that he’s always felt this way towards Sanji. Can’t remember a time when he didn’t feel this way.

It just took him a long time to finally realize that.

“I’ve worked in a brothel, and I’ve seen people fall in love in a place that’s supposed to be reserved for lust and depravity. That’s how I know what love looks like. And that same expression I’d see on those patrons at the brothel, I saw it on you too,” Hitori says softly. “He was looking at you the same way.”

Zoro casts another glance at Sanji, his heart clenching as he watches him bend down to the little girl’s level to hand her another bowl of soba, grinning at her. The sunlight is reflecting in his blonde hair, making it shine like gold. His eyes crinkle around the corners as he smiles around his cigarette. He looks so soft. Soft, vibrant, and beautiful.

“Nobody was looking at anyone like anything,” Zoro replies. He pauses for a moment, fingers twitching around the empty bowl in his hands. “And even if there was something like that, it wouldn’t have mattered.”

Hitori gives him a look that makes his hackles rise. It looks like pity, and Zoro hates misplaced pity.

“As someone who’s been living in a country that’s been in a state of devastation for over twenty years now, have even lost both my parents; I’ve come to the realization that we could lose everything that matters to us at any given moment in time,” Hitori says softly. “I think it matters a lot. At least, so you don’t end up regretting all the things you didn’t say and do until it’s too late.”

That’s when Zoro realizes it isn’t pity that Hitori is giving him, but genuine empathy. Empathy coming from a place of a deep-seated sadness that Zoro will never know nor understand. Not really. Well. He thinks of the deep-seated feeling of loss he’d felt in Zou when he thought he’d never see Sanji again. The whiplash of catharsis and relief he just felt seeing Sanji back in Wano again, that unmistakable feeling of never wanting to let him go again.

It's not a feeling he’d ever want to experience again, he realizes, which tells him what he needs to know.

If not now, Zoro hears at the back of his head, then when?

“After the war is over,” Zoro says quietly, answering the question. “If we’re both standing, maybe then.”

“For what it’s worth,” Hitori says. “I think it’ll definitely work out for you two.”

Zoro nods. He really hopes she’s right.

VI. Sanji

If Sanji is entirely honest, he didn’t think he’d survive Wano.

There was a bloody war going on, the culmination of twenty years of fury and oppression, and their enemies were stronger than anyone they’d ever faced before. Unlike Luffy, he’s always been a realist. There’s no such thing as going into a war with the optimism that everything is going to work out just fine. That all of them would come out just fine and unscathed. Just because it worked out for them in the past – Sabaody was a painful reminder that getting out alive and well isn’t always a guarantee, but a privilege – doesn’t mean that it’s not liable to change at any given moment.

And Sanji has always been ready to lay his life down should the need arise. If it’s to protect the people he cares about, Sanji wouldn’t mind giving his life to protect theirs, it was only a small price to pay after all. If he’s going to morph into something scary, something dark and sinister like his siblings in Germa, then that’s all the more reason for Sanji to be taken out.

In that moment of time, though, the only person who crossed his mind was Zoro. The only person who he trusted enough to take on the job of taking his life if he ended up crossing the line of humanity into something soulless and distinctly evil. During that moment, there was solace in thinking of Zoro being the one to kill him, to be the last person he sees before he dies.

It’s also how he felt in Thriller Bark, and then again in Sabaody, when he tried to exchange his life for Zoro’s. There was something distinctly romantic about it in its own way. To put his life and heart – in both the figurative and literal sense – in the hands of his biggest rival, but also the person he’s so stupidly in love with.

‘I came back from hell just so I could kill you myself.’

The words Zoro told him so easily had his heart racing, swelling with too many emotions. To most, it probably sounded like nothing but an everyday threat, the kind they always tossed at each other. To Sanji, it almost sounded like a proposal. A request to keep fighting forever, but also a reminder, that his life is now tethered and tied to Zoro’s. His fate is no longer his own to decide because he’d signed off the lease to Zoro to take care of it.

Sanji realizes that he wouldn’t want anything more than that. That rather than dying for Zoro or by his hands, he’d rather stay by his side instead, always fighting albeit complementing each other perfectly.

Now the war is over. He’s still here, alive and mostly in one piece, and so is Zoro. Sanji is no longer a bastard prince on the run from an abusive royal family. Zoro is no longer on death’s door, is sitting in the banquet while nursing a bottle of booze in his hands.

It’s just them. The swordsman and the cook. There’s nothing standing between them anymore. Nothing but themselves and the pride they refuse to swallow, really.

What would happen if he put his pride aside for just a moment, Sanji wonders. What would happen if he held onto the hem of Zoro’s kimono sleeve and told him all the things he’s never been able to say aloud, all the emotions he’s been holding onto for so many years now? What would Zoro say then? Would he mock him for it, or would he let him down softly? Is there even a chance that Zoro would feel the same way? That they’d work even together even if he did? After all, their dynamic is entirely built upon bickering and fighting, which isn’t exactly the basis for a healthy relationship.

This is what Sanji thinks about during the massive banquet being held in Wano. Everyone is partying and cheering, drinks in hand and euphoria high in the air, their happiness infectious. He smiles wistfully around his cigarette, looking at the lanterns floating upwards in the sky, like stars that are tangible to hold. He’s certainly going to miss this place, it’s one of the prettiest islands they’ve been to.

A strong grip on his shoulder startles Sanji from his reverie, jolting as if electrocuted. When he looks behind him, he sees that it’s just Zoro. The sight of him, covered in bandages in his white and green kimono, has his heart doing somersaults in his chest. He swallows.

“Cook,” Zoro says. “I need you to come with me.”

“People keep on asking for refills, I can’t just leave.” Sanji points at the massive brewing pots of udon, soba, and curry he’s got simmering. “If it’s a fight you want, then maybe later. I’m busy.”

Zoro nods at the beautiful girl with the aquamarine hair that was with him earlier, and the other day at the soba stand too. The girl who was clinging to Zoro’s kimono, holding onto him, and smiling at him with an expression that Sanji had seen before. The expression of someone who is smitten. She’s beautiful, and Sanji can’t help but ogle her a bit, but his heart sinks in his chest heavily.

What is she to Zoro?

“Hitori will manage while you’re gone. It won’t take long.”

“Yes! I’m quite good in the kitchen, hehe,” she says sweetly. Then she turns towards Zoro, pouting as she considers him underneath her long lashes. “My name is Hiyori by the way. You keep on calling me Hitori and it makes me sad.”

Is she flirting with him? Sanji’s stomach ties in knots, his vision flickering to a shade of ugly green that he tries to shake off.

“Whatever.” Zoro shrugs, beckoning Sanji to follow him. “Come with me.”

Sanji obliges him, confused and a bit miffed, unsure as to what Zoro wants. He follows him through winding streets, the number of people dwindling down as they’re all in the heart of the city celebrating, neither of them saying a single word which is doing wonders for his anxiety. They keep walking and walking until they wind up at a random alleyway, Zoro finally coming to a halt and so does Sanji.

The alleyway gives Sanji a strange sense of déjà vu, reminding him of Whiskey Peak, one of the first moments he got to slow down and enjoy Zoro’s company. The first time he realized that Zoro is someone he could possibly like being around, even without the fights and the posturing, even with the context of being crewmates or each other’s foil stripped away.

Zoro turns around, and the look on his face is grim. So grim that Sanji’s heart falls right out of his ass. What is Zoro about to tell him? Is this about that beautiful lady, Hiyori? Are they together now? Is he here to tell Sanji about it –

“There’s something I have to tell you about.” Zoro’s hands clench into fists around the hilts of his swords, the nervous tick he always falls into, one that Sanji isn’t even sure that Zoro himself is aware of. “Something I’ve been keeping from you.”

“What is it?” Sanji prompts, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it deftly to placate the sense of doom and gloom that’s rising in his chest. “What’s so important that you had to drag me out here to say it?”

What face should Sanji make when Zoro tells him about Hiyori? Should he slap him on the back, cursing him out for snagging such a beautiful girl when he’s nothing more than a barbarian? Should he plaster a smile onto his face and pretend that everything is alright while his heart cracks in his chest?

“We’re always surrounded by people, and for once, I wanted you alone,” Zoro says. He takes another step closer towards him, closing the distance between them. “Away from other people’s judgment and all the stupid things they have to say.”

Sanji isn’t sure he’d be able to maintain his composure in that situation, his fingers already taken by a tremor as he takes a drag, the tobacco failing to mollify his fraying nerves. Damn the stupid mosshead and the bushes he loves to beat around instead of getting straight to the point.

Sanji cocks an eyebrow at that, his confusion starting to heighten at Zoro’s cryptic words. “Pardon?”

“Ahh, fuck, I’m so shit at words,” Zoro curses, brushing the nape of his neck in frustration. He stares at Sanji, more like glowers at him, a tint of red coloring his cheeks. “Fuck it, I’ll just say it. There’s been a bet going around the Sunny.”

Okay, that’s not anything Sanji would have expected Zoro to say. He feels a modicum of relief that Zoro didn’t drag him here to ask him to be his best man for his impromptu wedding with Hiyori like his mind was starting to conjure for him, each scenario wilder than the one that preceded it, but his anxiety hasn’t entirely abated yet. He blows out a cloud of smoke, considering Zoro closely.

“A bet?”

“A bet.” Zoro nods. “About us.”

Oh, Sanji realizes with horror. Not that bet. Oh shit. Oh no.

“About whether we’re in a romantic relationship or not,” Zoro elaborates.

“Right.” Sanji smokes his cigarette down to the filter, tossing it and stubbing it underneath his shoe as he lights another one. “Well. Thank you for telling me, I appreciate it.”

“You don’t look surprised.” Zoro knits his eyebrows together.

Sanji’s eyes widen, laughing heartily as he avoids Zoro’s piercing glare. He shakes his head.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re a shitty liar.” Zoro advances towards him, grabbing Sanji’s cigarette from his lips and tossing it to the ground – which is so rude of him by the way – so he can’t have any distraction from his escalating anxiety. “You knew. You knew and you didn’t say anything about it?”

Sanji sighs, realizing the cat is out of the bag now.

“I knew about it,” Sanji confirms, averting his gaze from Zoro’s. “I heard Usopp and Nami gossiping about it some months ago.”

That’s the truth, yes, but also a truth by omission which is basically a lie. Because it did sort of work out like that, but not exactly. Mainly because it’s a bet that Sanji helped enable himself, albeit without participating in directly, but he’s just as guilty.

‘You and Zoro are so embarrassing to watch for real,’ Nami said. ‘When are the two of you going to get together?’

‘What? You guys aren’t already together?’ Usopp asked, bemused.

‘No, we’re not together at all,’ Sanji huffed, miffed at their insinuation. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively, feeling his ribcage start to close in on itself, his chest too tight for his liking. ‘I don’t think he likes me like that at all. Rather, I think that the Mosshead isn’t interested in much but wanting to slice me up.’

‘But you like him,’ Usopp stated, matter-of-factly. ‘You didn’t even deny it.’

He hadn’t denied it, indeed. He’d long since moved past the stage of denial, but doing something about it was a whole other ball game entirely.

‘Does it even matter?’ Sanji shrugged helplessly. ‘It’s not like it changes anything.’

‘Of course it matters!’ Nami exclaimed. ‘You two idiots deserve to be together.’

‘I’m not so sure about that.’

‘Tell you what, Sanji-kun.’ Nami held Sanji’s hands in hers, her eyes glinting dangerously. ‘I’m going to make a bet. A big one, that’s going to have a whole lot of money riding on it, and you know I never lose a gamble. The two of you are going to get together within the year, I’m manifesting it.’

‘Leave it to us, Sanji.’ Usopp grinned. ‘I’m the best wingman in existence, trust.’

‘Okay. Okay, I’ll take on your bet. Let’s see where this goes.’

Sanji knows that he should have put a stop to it then. Told them not to meddle, not to include the whole crew in their stupid bet; Nami even going so far as to place her money falsely on Sanji and Zoro already dating to get the ball rolling in a certain direction. Regardless, there was something about their unending faith that they’d end up together that felt comforting. That made Sanji happy, too, that everyone on the crew thought the same thing.

That Zoro and Sanji belonged together.

When it was put that way, Sanji couldn’t bring himself to do anything but hope. Hope that maybe something would change, that maybe Zoro would see what all of them have been seeing for so long now.

“You don’t seem to mind it,” Zoro remarks.

Sanji shrugs. “It’s been a while.”

Zoro takes another step closer towards Sanji, Sanji taking another step backwards until he hits the brick wall behind him, Zoro caging him against it. He feels cornered, like he can’t escape, even though he knows well that he could if he wanted to.

But the look in Zoro’s eye is telling him to stay, so Sanji does.

“And how did that make you feel?” Zoro implores. “The bet. The rumors. The implications that we’re…together.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Sanji whispers, averting his gaze.

“The truth.” Zoro forces Sanji to look at him, his face so close to his. His eyes can’t help but flit towards Zoro’s dark eye, towards his chapped lips, reminded once more of the phantom kiss that haunted his dreams ever since the day Zoro saved him from drowning. “I’ve already heard what everyone else has to say about what we are or what we should be – now I want to hear what you have to say.”

Sanji hesitates. How does he say what’s been plaguing his mind for three years now? He doesn’t know, but he should probably try.

“I thought that – I thought that I wanted it to be real,” Sanji finally says, his heart throbbing in his chest. “I wanted them to be right so bad.”

For a few moments, moments that seem to stretch onto eternity, Zoro doesn’t respond. He’s silent and Sanji feels like he can’t hear anything but the sound of his own heart drumming so loudly against his ears, deafening.

Then Zoro crashes his lips against his, kissing him in a way that takes Sanji entirely by surprise. Can’t help but gasp in surprise, stiff, until he melts into the kiss and gives into it. Kisses Zoro back with equal vigor, trying to convey everything he can’t say into that kiss, bringing him close enough so Zoro can hear how fast his heart is beating. His hands fisting in his hair and around the nape of his neck, his chest pressed against his, the taste of Sanji’s own food clinging to his tongue. Delicious and sweet, bitter with a tinge of alcohol and tobacco mixing together.

The kiss is everything Sanji has always wanted and more, makes his whole body thrum pleasantly, his heart singing with contentment and a sprinkle of hope. He feels drunk with greedy want; has wanted this for so, so long now.

When they break apart, they’re both breathless, their foreheads touching.

“I wanted it to be real, too,” Zoro tells him. “I think we’d be good together.”

Sanji’s heart swells, because here Zoro is, telling him the exact words that he never thought he’d hear except in his wildest dreams and fantasies. He nods, bringing Zoro in for another kiss, already hooked on the feeling of kissing him. Wants nothing more than to kiss Zoro again and again, until he’s memorized the shape of his lips and the way they feel against his own.

“Really?” Sanji whispers. “And you don’t care what the others will think of us?”

“Fuck’em.” Zoro shrugs, peppering Sanji’s face with kisses that make him melt into a puddle underneath his calloused fingertips. “They already spend too much time thinking about us, so let them figure it out on their own.”

Sanji throws his head back, laughing loudly until he feels his eyes sting with tears. He nods, finding no fault in that as he nuzzles his nose against Zoro’s.

“Fair enough,” Sanji whispers against his lips, breathless. “And for the record? I think we’d be great together, too. So, let’s do it. Let’s be together, Mosshead.”

Ahh, Sanji is going to owe Nami so much money for this, but it’s the best investment he’s ever made so he isn’t complaining.