Archive of Our Own

“Take him.”
Two guards entered his room. They were both wearing Germa’s military gear with a weapon strapped on their backs. They looked down to him, where he was sitting on his bed. One of them grabbed his arm tightly and pulled him off the mattress. He fell on the ground, his knees hitting the floor causing a sharp pain to travel through his legs.

“What are you doing?”, he asked, panic rising in his voice. They didn’t answer, instead pushing him out of his room as one would drag a wild animal around.

“Let me go.”
They ignored his screams and pleading and tried silencing him by putting a hand in front of his mouth. The muffled sounds echoed in the cold castle halls. They took him downstairs, far away from the royal chambers and the sun.

In front of a lonely cell in the dungeons they stopped. The other guard who wasn’t crushing the bones of his wrist, took the metal helmet which he had been holding and put it on his head.
“Hey, what are you-?”, but he couldn’t finish his question, being interrupted by a loud clink, the helmet now feeling tight and secure on his head and around his face.

“What’s this?”, he asked, his hands rising to his head and shaking the metal cage on it.
“I can’t take it off.”
His eyes popped open in shock. He could hear his breath hitching loudly. The air leaving his mouth traveled up to his eyes, having no room to escape like normally due to the iron wall in front of his face.

“What are you guys doing?”, he asked again when they pushed him into the cell, his voice trembling from the fear nesting in his stomach. Once again, they didn’t answer, instead locking the door securely and shaking it a few times to assure that it couldn’t be opened.

“Wait! I don’t want to stay here!”
He straightened up and curled his fingers around the bars of the cell.
“Let me out! My father would never approve of this.”
His voice was steady, sure that his family would help him. They might not like him that much but they were still family.
“This is King-sama’s decision.”

His heart dropped to the floor, a cold feeling spreading in his body and he stopped breathing for a second.
“What? Dad’s decision?”
They are lying.
He shook his head violently, refusing to believe what the guards were telling him.

“King-sama said that he wanted to pretend that Sanji-sama was never born.”
There was a lump in his throat that made every breath he took painful.
“What?”, he croaked, the tears falling from his eyes uncontrollably.

He never got an answer. The guards left, their footsteps howling on the stone ground below and becoming quieter with each second that passed.

His grip didn’t loosen on the bars, rather tightening till his finger whitened from the pressure, his hand too small for it to close around the whole metal pole.
Why is this happening to me?
His sobs became louder and louder, masking the sounds of the waves outside.

If only he was stronger. He could be the son his father always wanted him to be. He could make him proud.

“Please let me out, dad.”
The tears dropping from his eyes were big and blurred his vision.
“I’m sorry…I’m sorry that I was born weak!”
He cried loudly and ugly, his cheeks burning from the friction of wet skin on metal.
“Dad!”, he screamed in misery, but no one was listening. No one was listening. He was alone.

At some point, he let go of the metal poles, his fingers stuck in the shape of the bars and his bones creaking when he moved them. He curled into himself, hugging his legs and saving all of his body heat to keep himself warm.
He put his head helmet on his knees. He had cried his eyes out, leaving him with a red, puffy face and no tears.

There were no windows. The only light that he had was from the candles hanging on the wall. It was also the only heat source he had. It was cold and dark and Sanji wanted out. He had only been here for a few hours at most and already couldn't stand it anymore.

He counted seven unfulfilling meals when he finally understood that no one would come to help him. This really was his father’s decision. He really had him locked up. For an indefinite amount of time.
He was lying on the ground, his heart feeling heavy in his chest. He pressed his lips together, not daring to make a sound. His throat was clogged with sobs and whimpers, his mouth full with the iron taste of blood and the salt of stinging tears.

If only he was stronger. He would be capable of getting out.

-

He could hear the calming waves of the ocean crashing into the wood of the Baratie. The sun stood high in the sky, the perfect time for lunch. He watched as the flames under his pan rose in height, stirred the food and put out the fire. He turned to the previously prepared plate and added the food onto it.

With the plate in one hand he walked outside where a starving man laid on the ground.
He sat down, leaning on the railing and pushed the plate towards the man.
“Eat.”
“Shut up! Go away!”, Gin said as he lifted his head to look at the food, “This is worse. I won’t accept charity. Take it away.”
Sanji rested his head on the wooden railing, a cool ocean breeze running through his hair.
“Don’t be so tough, just eat it already.”
“I can’t pay for it.”
His stomach growled loudly and he awkwardly put his hand on it, commanding it to be quiet.

“I don’t care if you want to die with dignity, but if you eat up, you’d be able to look forward to a new tomorrow, won’t you?”
The pirate looked at him, his eyes shimmering from hope as he reached for the food carefully. He put the plate on his lap and began to eat. Slowly at first, then faster, pushing the food into his mouth at an impressive speed.

“This is so delicious”, Gin cried, wiping the tears with the palm of his hand, before continuing to devour the food.
Sanji smiled, “It’s damn good, isn’t it?”

Suddenly, there was laughter above them.
“I’ve found my cook”, the boy with the strawhat said, his smile so bright it put the sun to shame. He jumped off the higher ground and landed next to him, his sandals clapping loudly on the floor.
“Hey cook, why don’t you join my crew?”
I can’t leave this place.
“I refuse.”

Luffy frowned and his head extended to Sanj’s face.
“No, I refuse your refusal.”
“You can’t do that.”
But Luffy had already made up his mind. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and spoke firmly, "You're a good cook, you should join us."

He sighed and shook his head.
“I can’t just go. It’s not that easy.”
Luffy tilted his head to the side, his straw hat securely on his head.
“You don’t have to make it hard. You should come with us, we’ll have lots of fun and so many adventures. And meat!”
The raven haired boy laughed and stretched his arms to the sky.

Sanji looked at him and the smile plastered on his face and he couldn’t stop the warm feeling spreading in his body. This boy was so joyful and his laughter so contagious. It would be difficult not to follow him to the ends of the world.

Later, after a pirate attack on the restaurant and after Luffy had helped him save it, he recalled the smile and made a decision.
“Hey Luffy, have you heard of the All Blue?”

-

His cell didn’t have a lot in it. There was one toilet in the corner. It was made out of metal, the seat only a small, thin edge. He didn’t like sitting on it because it was uncomfortable and cold. He didn’t get a lot of food anyway, so he was fine, having to go only after every fourth meal.

There was a thin mattress on the floor. No bed like the one he had in his room in the castle. His father might’ve not liked him very much but he had always provided. He had books and a table and a closet in his old room. A window for when he needed fresh air and to hear the birds chirping outside. If he wanted to look at the green grass and colorful flowers or to feel the sun shine brightly and warm on his skin.

There was nothing like that here.
There was a cold toilet in the corner and a thin mattress on the floor.
Nothing more, nothing less.

Because there was nothing there, he also had nothing to do.
In the beginning, he had sat on the floor, his thoughts running wild, his body rocking back and forth.

At one point he started pacing around. Walking from the right side of his cell to the left side. He needed to move his body, needed to use his legs, needed to do something. Anything that didn’t involve sitting around and thinking. So he’d walk and count how many times he touched the different sides of the cell. He walked slowly, imagining himself on a stroll on the beach or the forest in the late afternoon. The sun deep in the horizon, painting the sky with beautiful colors of oranges and reds.

Sometimes, he’d run. Overexerting himself and not letting his brain think about anything at all, letting it only focus on the pain in his legs and the fast beating of his heart.

He always counted the amount of times he touched the walls. The numbers in his head relaxing him.The simple activity of counting calmed him down. He loved reaching special numbers like 100, 500, 1000. It filled him up with a feeling of accomplishment.
66. He hated the number 66.

His mother had always advised him to count sheep in his head when he couldn’t sleep. This was similar. He counted laps, sometimes counted seconds, the numbers accumulating in his mind and washing all of the other bad, very bad thoughts away.

He was on round 1273 when a guard knocked on the metal bar.
He gave him a plate of food and opened up his mask, the keyhole on the back where he could never see it.
The guard stayed, watched him eat, never letting him out of his sight while his helmet was open.

The food wasn’t the best. He ate all of it of course, too hungry to even think about wasting it. He didn’t get a lot of meals. If he had to guess, he’d say he got one meal a day, but he couldn't be sure because there were no clocks in the dungeon.

Sometimes the smell of the food lured rats in. The first one was a rat with raven black fur who walked up to his plate and nibbled on the piece of meat. Sanji cut the piece with his knife and gave the rat some of it. It had returned for every meal since, sometimes even visited when there was no food, sleeping next to him, his little heartbeat right next to his.

So he continued doing that with all of his meals. He always cut some of it and left it for the animals.

In total he counted nine rats that would visit him in his cell.

In total he had nine new friends.

-

The crew, Sanji figured out relatively quickly, was a bundle of chaos. They were loud, ate with their mouths open, didn’t know what personal space was, and Sanji absolutely loved it. They made him feel like he was part of something important, a family.

“Your food is the best Sanji”, Luffy screamed, holding two pieces of meat in each hand and between his lips. He was running around the deck, trying to find Usopp and show him how much he could fit in his mouth. Sanji laughed, feeling light and content.

Nami was sitting on a chair near her tangerine trees, the cold drink he had made her in her hand, the sun making her skin look golden.
“This feels amazing”, she sighed.
“The sun? Yeah-”
“No, to be finally free.”
He looked at her before walking up to her. She seemed peaceful, a heavy burden finally lifted from her shoulders. He took a seat next to her to lend her an open ear, crossing his legs in front of him and waiting for her to continue.

“Most of my life I was running, stealing, sailing on the sea, but I was on a leash. Arlong had his hands around my throat. No matter how far I was away from him, he was always right there behind me.”
She touched her arm where a tattoo decorated her skin, the Arlong mark only a figment of the past.
“But now. I can breathe. And it feels absolutely amazing.”

She let out a carefree laughter and she looked relaxed, not like in Baratie, where she had always fiddled with her clothes and chewed her fingernails. She had smiled too though, enjoying all the moments she had with her friends.

“I have been sailing for years, but I never enjoyed it. I hated it. Now the sea is shining and I’m so full of hope, I could cry.”
She turned to look at the ocean, her lips turned upwards and little wrinkles formed in the corner of her eyes.

“I’m so ready for our next adventure. We’re going to the Grand Line! I am so scared, frightened, but I’m also so happy.”
She laughed again, a full sound coming from her stomach. “Just look at it. The sea is broad and big and free.This is what it means to be a pirate. To be fully in love with the ocean.”

She looked at him then, her cheeks a warm red from the sun.
“I want to see the world. All of the islands and seas. I want to draw my map and it’s finally possible.”

The Grand Line. The sea of possibilities. Sanji felt Nami’s happiness spread in his own body and returned her smile. This was only the beginning of an amazing adventure.
They still had the whole world ahead of them.

-

At one point he started feeling angry. It surprised him at first because anger wasn’t something he felt very often. Even when he was beaten by his brothers or when his father didn’t let him see his mother, he had never felt angry. And when he did, it was often directed to himself.
Why did he have to be different?
It must have been his fault, judging by his father’s disappointed looks and the numerous head shakings of the scientists.

So he was angry at himself for not being better. For being weak and such a failure. Even when he trained, he never improved. It didn’t matter how many hours he pushed his body to be stronger, to run faster, to hold his breath longer, he was never like his siblings.
He wasn’t like his siblings.

The problem with anger, he found out relatively quickly, was that it needed an outlet. He needed to let his frustration go. He needed to let his hate go. The problem with his arrangement was that he didn‘t have anything to let it out on. Before, he had cooked. Kneeling dough more aggressively than needed, cutting vegetables so hard that he cut the cutting board underneath. Sometimes, he had visited his mother, letting her brush through his hair and calm him with her soothing voice.

He stood with his hands around the bars, his breath uneven, having counted 650 laps. He had touched the wall on the left 650 times, meaning he touched the right one 649 times. Maybe he should have walked to the right one again so that he would have touched both sides equally. Stupid. Stupid. This was why he was down here. Everything he did was unperfect, unsymmetrical, unworthy of attention.

His legs were cramping from the fast steps of before, his calves uncomfortably tight and stiff. Weak. Powerless. Frail. He couldn’t even walk without feeling exhausted. His hands clenched on the bars and he let out a loud scream. And then another one and another and another.

You deserve this.
He leaned back, his grip tightening on the bars, and then banged his head on the wall.
You’re a failure.
He slammed his head again, not registering the pain at all.
You’re weak.
The sound of metal on metal traveled through the dungeon, echoing on the stone walls, but never arriving in the world above.

You belong down here. You’re unworthy of showing your face. No one wants you around. You should’ve never been born. You should just die.
He kept banging his head, kept screaming till his throat ached.

You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this. You deserve this.

He felt liquid dripping on his face. He blinked a few times, the world having turned red suddenly. His vision was blurry and crimson and his eyes burned like fire. He couldn’t tell if the wetness on his cheeks was because of the blood or his tears that had started leaking. His screams became quieter, mixing with sobs and heavy breathing.

He counted 99 hits to the head. He could not do 100, because his body gave out and he fainted, falling to the cold ground and hitting his head one last time.

-

The sordsman looked so much like Yonji. Or actually he didn’t, only the color of his hair reminded him of his younger brother. He said things that his brother would never say. He was still mean, but in a way that didn’t hurt. He used swords like his brother would sometimes. They were both better than he could ever dream to be. But Zoro wielded his three katanas with eyes full of determination and passion. His eyes shone and the light reminded him of his own when he was cooking. It was one of the reasons why he fought him. To look into his eyes and see the wonder and joy in there.

One other reason was that he could keep up with him. Zoro won one fight, Sanji the other. He would be on the ground, one sword to his throat and then Zoro would smile and offer him his hand to help him to his feet. He would joke around, tell him how he was one win ahead. He never tortured him, laughed at his face and told him how weak he was. What a failure he was.

Zoro felt like an equal and it filled him with pride to be able to compare himself to someone so cunning and powerful. He would never say it to his face though, but Zoro knew. He could see it in the way they sat on the deck together and joked about the most insignificant, little things. He could see it in the way Zoro ate his food and grumbled in satisfaction.

They respected each other. They were friends that cared and looked out for each other. Not like Yonji at all, not like his brothers at all.

“Oi cook, lend me a hand for 10 seconds.”
It was incredible how much they could achieve together. Fighting Zoro was thrilling, but fighting with Zoro as a team was electrifying. Even though they got their asses beaten and bled everywhere, he had so much fun. And in the end they had won the stupid davy back fight, so that was a plus.

They sat back to back on the grass, taking a small break and watching Luffy choose a horse instead of Chopper.
“You good, cook?”
“Just a headache, and you?”
He grunted and nodded, a sign that he was fine.

They sat together in silence, appreciating the other’s presence and Sanji felt calm. He felt at peace. A content smile crept on his lips and he took a deep, refreshing breath in, feeling like he hadn’t done so in a long time.

-

The guard assigned to his cell didn't talk to him. He only gave him his food and sometimes soap and a bucket of water, but he never said anything. Even as he opened the helmet on his head, the warm fingers brushing his hair slightly, making Sanji shiver, he never said a word. It was hard having the one who practically took care of him, not acknowledge him at all. It was why he was so happy when his brothers found him. He didn’t know how long he had been in his cell, the concept of time abandoned early on, but it must have been a while, because his heart swelled when he saw three figures approaching, the keys in Ichiji’s hand jingling from the movement. And then they opened their mouths and they talked and laughed and did his voice also sound like that?

He remembered hating how similar they looked and sounded, because it meant he was truly a failure. How could he look so much like them but not be like them?

But now? Seeing his face in them? Hearing his voice? The healthy one that he used to have. The one that had told his mother about the birds he had seen and about the books he had read and about cooking. He had almost started laughing.

For a brief second he felt something similar to love for them.

Then they hit him, drawing blood and creating bruises on his skin. It hurt. It hurt so much and he heard himself crying and screaming in pain.

Maybe if their skin felt warmer and their eyes looked brighter, he would’ve started enjoying this. Because it would’ve been a human touch. Something he craved so much, he would take a punch to his face any day. If it meant someone touched him, he would endure it. But he had realized a long time ago that his brothers were anything but human. His father had long since taken it away from them.

He looked at their faces. Really looked at them through his swollen eyes and the slits of his helmet and he was shocked to see his mother. His mother’s nose, her face structure, her lips. And even though they had a slightly different color and a lot less life in them, they also had her eyes. His brothers looked like his mother. And that meant he looked like his mother. Except for the eyebrows.
I forgot what I looked like.
And it made him laugh which made Niji kick him in the stomach. He threw up. Which wasn’t enough reason for his brothers to stop.

They continued punching him and kicking him and beating him up and his stupid face didn’t stop smiling.
Someone is talking to me. Someone is acknowledging my existence.

He took the beating, savored every little phrase they threw at him, his chest blooming with a warm feeling when they said his name. Sanji. Sanji. Sanji. Our failure brother. They didn’t mean it affectionately, but somehow it had exactly that effect.
They still think about me. I’m still their brother.

They didn’t stay long, leaving him behind again. And that hurt more than anything they could do to him.

-

"Sanji, you're hurt!"
Chopper was running towards him, his legs carrying him as fast as they could.
"It's nothing Chopper”, he reassured him, so the reindeer would calm down.
"But I'm your doctor, I have to help you!"
He turned to human point and carried an agitated Sanji in his arms who did not appreciate being manhandled. Chopper carried him to the infirmary and laid him on the bed. He changed to one of his smaller forms and ordered him to take off his shirt.

His body was covered in bruises and swellings, his skin discolored in an unnatural way.
"How did you get these?"
How did he get these? He didn’t know for sure.
"I think in our last fight with the Navy."
The reindeer looked at him, stared him down with those big eyes of his.
Oh, I thought it was from your…

Sanji furrowed his eyebrows, having heard the doctor say something without him moving his lips.
“Did you say something, Chopper?”
“No”, he shook his head and put his little hoof on the blond's forehead, “Are you really sure you’re okay? You haven’t been this hurt in a long time.”
Sanji brushed the hoof away and nodded, “I'm fine.”

Chopper wasn’t convinced, his gaze wandering over his injured body.
“Let me take care of your wounds.”
And how could he say no to those caring eyes that only asked for his well being and wanted him to be healthy?
“I’d really appreciate it, Chopper, thank you.”

With that the little doctor went to the shelf on the other side of the room, picked some of the glass containers and brought them to the table beside the infirmary bed.
“You know it’s important to look after your body.”
He nodded, not able to look his friend in the face anymore.
“You need to let yourself rest.”
He nodded again, promising the doctor that he would.

An odd feeling nested in his stomach. It danced around his body and pressed on his heart, pushing him all over his chest and throat. Chopper was talking to him, but he couldn’t make out a single word. He heard muffled sounds and there was a ringing in his ears. He looked around the room, the walls of the ship blurry and light.

Oh, I thought it was from your…
He took a deep breath in to wash away the restlessness that was growing in his body.
He couldn’t tell what this odd feeling was, but he knew that something was wrong.

-

Just because seeing his brothers made him feel happy (in a sick twisted way), didn’t mean he didn’t fear them. He always cowered in the corner, his whole body trembling in knowledge of what was to come, when he heard the heavy steps and malicious laughter of three little boys.

That was how Reiju had found him the first time she visited, curled up in a little ball with his fingernails digging into the skin of his upper arms. His brothers have already come three times, and he hadn't expected his sister to ever come down here. Just as his father never would.

His body was bruised and covered with dry blood. Reiju had opened the door of his cell, sat down next to him and cleaned his wounds. First, she had wiped his blood off with a wet cloth and then applied an ointment to the unhealed cuts and the dark marks on his flesh.
Reiju only came after his brothers had visited him. She never came to check on him or to talk to him, only to clean his wounds and mutter words of discontent.

“Don’t provoke them, you’ll only suffer.”
“Stop crying, aren’t you a boy?”
But her fingers would treat him gently and she would hold his discolored hands with such care and tenderness, he could never feel any hatred towards her. He could never feel any hatred towards any of his siblings.

He let his head fall into his hands and groaned.
He just wanted to leave this place.
He wanted to be free. To live.

One of the rats nudged his leg and climbed into his lap. He pet the raven furred rat, his thumb brushing over its back repeatedly.
“You don’t have to worry about that, huh Luffy?”, he smiled when the animal pushed his head into his hand, “You can go wherever you want, no one would stop you.”
He sighed, “No one is keeping you caged.”

The orange rat sat next to him, chewing on a little piece of bread that he had saved for the rodents, when he saw his brothers walking down the stairs.
“He’s talking to the rats again.”
Yonji snickered, trying to push his face between the gap of the bars.
Niji next to him grinned mischievously.
“Hey Ichiji, how about we kill them?”

His eyes snapped up to his older brother and he shook his head, begging them not to do it. But he saw the glint in their eyes and he knew he had lost. Nothing he’d say would matter.
Niji had always had the most gruesome ideas and the only one that could stop him was their father, but he would never come down here.

So he kept quiet, recalling what his sister had said about provoking them. He watched them as they cut off poor Zoro’s legs. The rat blood dripped to the floor, creating little pools of red. They threw his body on the ground, letting the animal bleed out. Next they took the smallest of his rat friends and stepped on his head. Sanji didn’t allow himself to look at Chopper’s smashed skull.

The choked sound of his crying and screeching masked the pained squeals and the death screams of the rodents. He bit his lips together and closed his eyes tightly, for he could not watch his friends being tortured to death.

His brothers didn't stop until all nine of his animal friends laid lifeless on the floor.

“They were my friends…”, he muttered, not daring to open his eyes yet.
“Royalty doesn’t befriend rats.”
They left without having physically touched him even once. No new bruises, no new cuts, just a bleeding heart.

He opened his eyes and let them wander around the corpses.
He took the raven haired one and held it near his chest.
“You’re good? Right, Luffy? You wouldn’t die before achieving your dream.”
There were no squeaks, no movements.

He took his little arm into his hand and moved it with his own finger.
“See? You’re fine. You can move.”
He held up the body, so it was directly before his eyes.
“You wouldn’t leave me”, he whispered.

No one answered.
It was quiet. Oh so quiet.

-

“You don’t look so good today”
Usopp stood above him, his face glaring down to his, where he was laying on the couch in the aquarium. The light was dim and the blue of the water reflected on Usopp’s face, making his nose seem longer than normal.
“I had a bad…dream.”
“Well then you need to hear the amazing captain Usopp tell you about his 1001 adventures”, he clapped his hands enthusiastically and added, “ They will make you feel better."
Sanji smiled, flustered by the fact that someone was willing to comfort him.

Usopp was known as a liar and while that was the truth, his lies never hurt. They were not told to betray or to mock, but to cheer you up and to romanticize the world. He told stories and Usopp was a really good story teller. He made you forget your sorrows and grief and gifted you with tales of heroism and wonder.

At some point Luffy had joined them in the aquarium and listened to their sharpshooter talk about how he fought a giant bear to save a dwarf princess. Both he and Luffy hang on every word Usopp said, wrapped in the story like two children. Like children.

“And then the kingdom named me as their God. I still get offerings to this day.
“What? Why did you never tell me?”
Luffy asked, his eyes wide open in awe.
“A God never reveals his secrets”, Usopp answered with his arms spread open and standing on the couch so he appeared bigger than the other two. He completely ignored the fact that he already told them everything about his secrets.

“I thought that was about magicians?”, Sanji retorted, a smug grin on his face as he watched Usopp laugh nervously.
“Usopp! Are you a magician? Do a trick right now!”
The sniper started coughing uncontrollably, overplaying it by clutching his chest and forcing a few tears out of his eyes, “Oh no, it seems I just got sick. Let me go to Chopper. I will return my dear loyal fans.” With that he ran out of the room, escaping their captain’s request which made Luffy frown in disappointment
“I wanted to see magic.”

With Usopp gone, the room fell silent in an unusual straw hat type of way. Luffy was moping, his legs swinging back and forth as he drew circles on the pillow where he had put his chin. And Sanji? Sanji was spiraling, his mind no longer distracted by Usopp and therefore running wild. And his head felt heavy, oh so heavy and he needed to get it off. Right this second. He needed the helmet off. He ran his fingers on the metal, the mask having appeared there without a warning.

“I have a hat too. Mine’s prettier though.”
Luffy broke him out of his frenzy, his voice steady and serious. His eyes bore through him as if he saw everything that Sanji’s soul had to bear, as if he saw the cold stone walls and his empty cell.
Luffy put his hand to his chin as if he was thinking about something.
“Hmm, I’ve decided I don’t like your hat.”
“Me neither.”
He answered roughly, his throat suddenly sore and dry.

“Yours doesn’t look comfortable at all. Can you even see through it?”
It was hard, but he didn’t have a lot to see anyway. He knew exactly what was before him. Walls, metal poles, a toilet and a mattress.
“Does yours ever feel heavy on your head?”, he asked, not really looking for an answer, but needing to say something.
“Not really”, Luffy changed his lying position and sat with his legs crossed in front of him, his eyes now on the same height as Sanji’s, “I guess the promise is heavy. Someone really important gave it to me.”

“Who gave it to you, Sanji?”
Sanji felt his body grow cold. The dreaded question and the even more dreaded answer. He didn’t like to think about this, the truth hurting more than he could ever admit.
“My father.”
“Do you like him?”
“He’s my father. I have to like him.”
“But do you?”
“I-”

He didn’t have the right to hate his father. His father only disliked him because he was such a failure. He deserved this but his father… He locked you up. He locked you up and put this disgusting thing on your face.
His father didn’t deserve a son like him. You deserve this. You deserve this.
“Do you?”, Luffy repeated.
“I don’t know.”
But deep down, a part of him screamed for justice. Screamed and begged to be freed.

But what could justice do when his father was the judge?

-

The guard stopped coming.
At first he didn’t think anything of it. He was a prisoner, the forgotten child, so he was not the first priority. He ignored the rumble of his stomach and the thoughts that came when he looked at the rats‘ his friends‘ dead bodies. They were so small, they would not fill him.

It was when his throat started itching and swallowing started feeling like a chore, he finally understood that this was a conscious choice. His father finally had enough of him. He wanted to end it once and for all. He didn’t need his third son. He was weak and worthless. Why keep him around?

His father had forced him to study the human body. To study science, biology, mathematics, physics. Sanji wasn’t stupid. He knew he would die if he didn’t get water soon.

He only had one water source in his cell and he would love to avoid it, but he would also love to survive. Even as he heard his father’s voice in his head telling him to die and how he didn’t deserve life, something in him still wanted to survive. Maybe if he’ll survive this, he’ll get to see a brighter future. Maybe someday he’ll be free.

He kneeled before the toilet, his hands gripping the metal edges and his head hovering over the water. His throat was killing him, feeling drier than a desert, all water drenched out of it. He put his two hands together, forming a bowl so he could transport the water to his mouth. He extended his arms so they could reach the water, his body begging for him to hurry up, to please drink it already. He held the water in his hands, watching the liquid drip through the slits between his fingers. His mouth was covered so he had to put the water in the slots for his eyes and let it fall into his mouth from there.

The first batch of water didn’t have a lot of liquid, most of it having fallen out of his hands on the way to his face. He poured the water on his forehead, his eyes closed so it wouldn’t enter them. It flowed on his cheeks, over the ramp of his nose, only a few droplets arriving in his mouth. He almost started crying when he felt the liquid on his tongue and his throat, washing the itchiness away. He repeated the action a few times, eventually getting the hang of it and more water into his mouth.

With his thirst quenched, he was only left with his hunger. But this problem didn’t have a solution. If no one gave him food and saved him, he would not make it out. He would die. He would die. He would die.

But even as he felt his stomach eating his insides and his ribs stick out in an unnatural, very malnourished way, he didn’t dare eat the rats, the only edible thing in his cell.

He had collected the bodies and body parts of his little friends and put them next to each other, not daring to seperate them and hoping it would give them comfort wherever they were.

He lay next to them, starving and feeling worse than he had in a long time.
He just wanted to go to sleep and let his dreams take him to where he would be on a ship with his friends still alive.

-

“Are you hungry Sanji?”
“Thank you so much for your concern Robin, but I’m fine.”
There was no reason for her to worry. He didn’t want to burden her, so he lied.
Robin tilted her head in disbelief.
“Do you want us to cook you something?”
He looked up to her, his eyes scanning her face only to find a fond look in her eyes.
“I would like that very much”, he whispered, the words almost inaudible.

“We will cook you the most super meal”, Franky shouted and posed as he always did, forearms touching and feet apart.
“Which will be spaghetti with tomato sauce. Sorry Sanji-bro but my culinary skills don’t exceed that. But I was told it tastes amazing. Amazingly super if you will.”
Sanji had to laugh at the silliness of his friend, his hands in front of his face to hide his smile.

Franky took one of the pots in the kitchen cabinet and put it on the turned off stove. On a cutting board he cut onions and garlic, while Robin’s blossomed hands sliced tomatoes beside him. He watched them as they mixed all of the ingredients together and added some spices to the pot. Robin stirred the mixture and Franky opened the fridge to look for something, his head buried deep in it.

“Aha”, he said when he finally found the last ingredient. He was holding a chili paste, grinning triumphantly.
“There’s nothing better than something a little spicy. You’ll love it, believe me.”
He didn’t respond, rather continuing to observe the two cook him something, his head on the table and a content look on his face.

Robin, or rather Robin’s arms that sprouted everywhere in the kitchen, took another pot and boiled water in it. The two adults moved in such harmony together, Sanji couldn’t tear his eyes away, enchanted by the way Franky would occasionally kiss one of Robin’s hands.

After the spaghetti was done, Franky let the hot water out in the sink and put some of the spaghetti on a plate where Robin added the sauce and some cheese. They put the plate and cutlery in front of him and looked at him expectantly.

“Here is a home cooked meal for our super cook.”
The corners of his lips moved upward, a tear running down his cheek.
His family never cooked for him.

Franky touched his shoulder and something about the whole interaction reminded him of his father and siblings. The way he would pat them on the back when they did something extraordinary well. He would look at them with so much pride, it had always made Sanji feel like more of a failure.
“I hope you enjoy it.”
Then he turned to Robin and gave her a plate , “And you too, baby.”

This felt intimate. To let him be a part of their love. To observe their love and let it engulf him too. He felt safe. He put the food in his mouth and let the flavors dance on his tongue.
He watched Robin kiss Franky on the cheek and Sanji could only stare.
This felt intimate and beautiful and so alien.

This is what love is supposed to look like.

-

He felt himself rotting away.

If his hunger didn’t kill him, his sick body would. He didn’t know if it was an infection caused by the numerous bruises on his skin or if the dead rats infected him with something or if the water he was drinking was too dirty, him being used to royal water of highest quality.

He felt hot. His body was burning and sweating and he missed the times where he had thought his cell was cold. He laid down on the stone ground so that as much of his skin as possible touched the floor, trying to cool himself and embracing the temperature difference for once.

Moving hurt too much, it was too exhausting, so he preferred to sit. Sometimes he’d still walk but he didn’t run anymore. He didn’t even know if he still could.

His head felt heavier than usual today, so he chose to lie on his mattress instead of sitting on the floor. He felt dizzy, his head hurting as the world spun around him. He took a few long breaths to get some oxygen into his system and closed his eyes to calm his vertigo.

When he opened his eyes again, the world had stopped moving. He was still in his cell despite the numerous begging and wishing that circled in his mind and he occasionally said to the empty room. He was still in his cell but there was someone with him now.

Sometimes he wasn’t alone. Sometimes he would open his eyes and Luffy was there. He would be sitting in front of him. Sometimes he would only see him from the corner of his eye and he would disappear when he turned his head. Sometimes he would stay though. Silently, not saying one word. He would be there with him and sometimes he would smile. Sanji had to close his eyes then, the image of Luffy too bright and brilliant.
Why would he need the sun when he had this?

This Luffy kept quiet too. He looked at him, staring him down with his dark eyes. Sanji was afraid of saying something, of opening his mouth and breaking the spell. He didn't know why he saw Luffy or when he'd disappear, but he didn't question it, not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He sat there and watched Luffy's features blend into the background, unsure of where Luffy began and the wall ended. It was unsettling, not because of the unpleasant visual fusion before him, but because Luffy didn’t belong in here. Luffy wasn’t supposed to see this part of his life, see him being helpless and trapped. Luffy was only supposed to know the Sanji of the strawhat crew, not the younger and weak Sanji, the thrown away prince of Germa.

Luffy was supposed to know a cook, who created meals like no other and fought with his legs on fire. He was supposed to know a man who would feed everyone before letting anyone starve. A man who saved both allies and foes because everyone deserved to see another day. Never was he supposed to see him like this, to see him be this useless.

But worst of all, it was unsettling because it meant Luffy was never real, merely a fabrication of his rotten mind.

-

He sat down on the chair, two cups of tea in his hands. He gave one to the skeleton who thanked him and leaned against the backrest.
They sipped on their tea in silence for some time, the ocean melody surrounding and hypnotizing them like the songs of sirens.

“Brook, what does death feel like?”
The musician put down his cup and crossed his legs. He looked out of the window, the sea stormier than usual and the sky a dark gray.
“It’s lonely.”

He turned his head to him, his eye sockets locked on his face.
“It’s cold. You can feel yourself, your soul, leaving your body and it’s sad. Like a final goodbye. A farewell you didn’t even know would ever happen. I knew myself as my earthly body, leaving it behind, felt like leaving myself behind.”

Brook looked at his hands on the table, turning them around and examining them.
“I remember it being painless too. I didn’t feel my body falling to the ground or my skin touching the wooden deck one last time. I was robbed, couldn't even savor it. And now I don’t even have skin anymore, I will never feel the soft wood of any ship rubbing against it ever again.”

“I always hear people say it would be peaceful. It isn’t. And it shouldn't be. You can let yourself mourn about losing your life. It’s sad, not because you’re dead, but because it ended. It’s the culmination, it’s melancholic, because you’re leaving everything you knew, you were, you are behind. You’re allowed to feel sad.”

Sanji closed his eyes, the iron helmet suddenly on his face. With his eyelids closed, he could feel the cold ground beneath him, the stone wall behind him. He touched his abdomen, his ribs sticking out and creating little waves with his skin.

“It was a lot better than the years I spent alone on the ship though. Sometimes, I wish I had stayed dead but now at least I can fulfill my and my crew’s promise.”
Brook smiled, or Sanji assumed he smiled. It was difficult to tell when the other didn’t have any flesh.

“Did you feel ready?”
“I knew it was coming and I knew it was inevitable, but I had an accomplished life. My only regret was that I’d never get to see Laboon again. He would have thought we forgot about him.”

“Would anyone have remembered you?”
He shook his head, “The only people that would’ve remembered me were already dead or with me on the ship. But I didn’t need to be remembered. I was, am on this Earth for one thing and it is to decorate life with music. To make the people I am allowed to call my friends happy with my music.”

“Are you happy Sanji-san?”
“I don’t think I am, but you guys make it a lot better.”
“Tragic to see a child admitting his misery.”
Brook reached for his violin laying on the table.
“Shall I play a song then?”
He nodded, his head still tightly surrounded by metal and his body feeling a lot smaller than that of a twenty one year old.

-

Reiju sat next to him, her back leaning on the wall, her leg touching his.
She hadn’t said anything since she came down here. She had opened the door of his cell and dropped down next to where Sanji was sitting, too weak to stand on his feet anymore. She had taken his hand and intertwined them.

“I want to be a cook.”
He said, finally breaking the silence.
Reiju looked at him, her eyes full of pity and unshed tears.
“That’s a nice dream, Sanji.”
She smiled. It was a sad smile and he could feel her suppress her sobs, but the smile was real and reached her eyes.
She took their intertwined hands and kissed him on the back of his. She couldn't touch his face or kiss him on the cheek since the key to his helmet had been long lost.

“Tell me about your dream.”
So he did, he told her about what he knew about cutting and stirring. He listed some spices, telling her about that one time when he had inhaled too much pepper and started sneezing. He showed her the scars on his hand that he’d gotten from the fire of the stove or from hot oil jumping from the pan to his skin.

He told her about the numerous fish in their seas and about the All Blue, expressing his belief in its existence and his desire to find it.
She listened to him, not interrupting him once and continuing to smile that sad smile, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Can you cook her something for me? Can you make her something, anything and tell her that I love her?”
He asked her, his voice wobbly and unsteady.
“She always loved the food I made her”, he thought about the meals he had given his mother, “They looked so bad. I remember falling on the way to her room, sometimes I’d get rain and dirt on it, but she’d still tell me how delicious it was.”
Reiju’s grip tightened around his fingers and he heard her whimper. He turned to look at her, only for him to see the tears now streaming down her face, her lips downturned and mouth opened, giving the tears a place to disappear into.

“Whatever father and our brothers told you, it’s not true. You Sanji are Germa’s true wonder. I want you to know that you’re loved. Mom and I. We love you so much and I know you deserve more, so much more and so many people outside of this kingdom would’ve given it to you.”
She put their joined hands in front of her heart, “I’m sorry that your life was like this.”
She let go then, closing the door again and ran up the stairs.
It was the last time he saw her.

-

“Sanji, Sanji, Sanji, we found the All Blue!”
Luffy ran up to him and jumped into his arms.
“Jinbei checked!”
Luffy wrapped his arms and legs multiple times around him and hugged him tightly.
“You should go for a swim!”, he screamed excitedly in his ear.

“The All Bue?”
He felt tears leaking from his eyes, his mouth stretched into a wide grin.
“I really get to see it?”
Luffy nodded enthusiastically, the movement almost throwing him off his feet and making them both fall.

“It really is a miracle sea”, Jinbei said, approaching the pair.
“Thousands of people looked for it and never found it and even more denied its existence”, the fishman turned to look at the ocean, the broad and so, so blue ocean, “I’m here sailing on it and it feels so unbelievable. I am absolutely speechless.”

Jinbei laughed then, “What a place, where all of the fish and sea animals of this planet found a home to live together despite all of their differences. Makes you wonder..”, he touched his red sun mark on his chest, “if they can do it, we should too.”

Jinbei put his blue hand on his arm, “Go look at it yourself. It is your dream after all.”
Luffy detangeled himself from him, his limbs returning to their normal size and form and letting Sanji go. He pushed him to the sea, ignoring the fact that he was still in his suit and wearing shoes.

Sanji loved the ocean in its vastness and chaos and strength. In its beauty and mystery and freedom. It had always been something that he adored, that soothed and captivated him. It was one of the things he liked about Germa and its nation. They were seafaring people, their country continuously sailing on the blue water. No matter where they were, the sea was always with them.

The ocean symbolized the beginning of life and looking at this, at the animals and plants, all from different climatic regions and parts of their world, it made it so abundantly clear and it only deepened his love.

He climbed up the ship and jumped on the deck, his hair and clothes dripping wet, his mouth tasting like the ocean salt and his heart lighter than it had ever been.
Luffy sat on the railing, his feet dangling off to the side as he turned to look at him.
It took his breath away to see him sit there. With him on the All Blue. And he felt overwhelmed. Luffy was the reason why he got to see it, why he got to fulfill his dream before he…

“Thank you Luffy, for being my first friend.”
Luffy smiled, his eyes closed and teeth showing.
I’m not real.
“Of course Sanji, you're my nakama.”
Sanji’s weak heart felt so full and he just had to return the smile.

“And I'm sorry I never got to give you real food.”
“For dream people, dream food is real food. And I loved your food very much.”
He bit his lip shyly, trying to push away the forming lump in his throat.
“Thank you Luffy. Thank you so much.”

They made a fire that night. Sanji grilled them some meat, fish and vegetables and they sat around the fire, laughing together, enjoying the miracle sea surrounding them.
They all looked at him, their smiles bright and big. So happy to be here with him and to experience him fulfilling his dream.
He locked eyes with Luffy whose smile changed from joyful to calming.
He came up to him and kneeled down so he could look him in the eyes. He ruffled his blonde hair, put his straw hat on the little child's head and gave him one of his sunny smiles.
“You can rest now, Sanji.”

-

-

That night his brothers found him dead. His skin ice cold and his eyes so clear.
They had felt a wetness on their cheeks and a tightness in their chest.
They couldn’t explain why.