Can we get a Sanji thoughts/analysis now that you're on WCI?
oh, boy. hm. yeah.
for the sake of my sanity, i’m gonna leave off addressing the sexism thing here, because i’ve talked about it before in other posts (check this tag if you really want) and also other people have done it better than me. my friend star has a really good essay on the matter and why different people have such different opinions on it that you can find here.
that disclaimer out of the way: i really like sanji, actually. i’ve said before that if not for the amount of regrettable joke material oda has saddled him with, i think he’d be my favorite strawhat, and even as is, i still like him a whole lot.
sanji is, of the strawhats, maybe the most self-sacrificially inclined, which is almost impressive given how many attempted heroic sacrifices these assholes attempt to pull. with sanji, though, it’s an established trait ever since his introductory arc- first with his refusal to quit working at the baratie because of his perceived debt despite zeff literally firing him, and later with his willingness to just fucking let pearl kill him for the same reason. whole cake island and his actions during it is basically the culmination of this character trait.
sanji, by all appearances, doesn’t value his own life and happiness very highly, despite the amount of justified confidence he has in his abilities as both a fighter and a cook. this is something that makes a lot more sense when you look at the environment he was brought up in- if everyone around a child is telling him he’s a worthless mistake for the first eight or so years of his life, he’s kind of bound to internalize that at least somewhat.
sanji is one of the more independent actors on the crew in general. he has a tendency to kind of fuck off and do stuff on his own that everyone else only finds out about after shit starts blowing up (see: enel’s arc, mr. prince, gates of justice), which is one of my favorite aspects of his character. and that’s what he’s attempting to do in whole cake island too, pretty clearly- sneak off on his own and solve the problem for everybody else before it becomes a problem. it just doesn’t work out that way, because the cost this time around isn’t something his crewmates will tolerate.
sanji cares very much about the people he’s close to, both the strawhats and zeff, but it doesn’t seem to occur to him that they care about him just as much. he’s genuinely surprised when luffy bombs into whole cake island to rescue him even though any objective observer could have predicted that in a heartbeat. sanji’s seen luffy go through hell and high water for nami, robin, vivi, and ace, among others, and still doesn’t expect that he’ll merit that same level of concern. not to mention that zeff is clearly upset at sanji’s self-sacrificial bullshit during the baratie arc (which sanji ignores). can you imagine how pissed he’d be if he knew what sanji was trying to pull to keep him safe during WCI?
tldr: someone needs to beat “you are loved” into sanji’s stupid stupid head asap.
One Piece: Baron Omatsuri and The Secret Island || dir. Hosoda Mamoru
— “If you are a pirate among pirates among other pirates and pirates, bring your trusted friends to this island.” Okay, I’ve made up my mind! Let’s go to this Omatsuri Island!
Which of the Strawhats do you think would have the worst nightmares?
Oh you want pain, huh? Is that what you want?
Knowing what I know about the absolute hellscape of his early childhood, I’m inclined to say Sanji. (I also read a fic not long ago that suggested Sanji doesn’t sleep well/at all on land cause he grew up on a ship and the last time he was on solid land for a long period of time was when he was stranded, which is a headcanon I really like.)
Robin would be a strong contender except I feel like she probably doesn’t sleep soundly enough to have really bad nightmares? Given how she lived for twenty-odd years I figure she sleeps pretty lightly, and is fast to wake up from nightmares cause for a really long time she was in a situation where sleeping too deeply and not being alert all the time could have gotten her killed.
I think all the Straw Hats have definitely nightmares to some degree, with Nami and Luffy post-Marineford also being up there with the worst. If the world was good we could have Sanji and Nami both awake in the middle of the night from nightmares bonding over their shared trauma based on childhoods dominated by abusive bastards who saw them as things instead of people. (Hey, fic idea.)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Written for the @opsecretsanta2019
Hi @buymethesea, I was your backup santa! :D
I just couldn’t decide between ZoSan and NaVi for you, so I did a little bit of both. Please enjoy some pining!Nami and pining!Zoro, with a side of humor.
Hello! Your original Secret Santa couldn't make it, so I'm your SS 2.0! I'm in the middle of planning your gift right now, and just had a few questions: 1) What are your favorite parts of the canon interactions between Sanji and Zoro that you would like to see in a Zosan relationship? 2) Pining!Nami or Pining!Vivi? 3) On a scale of 1-10, 1 being crack and 10 being angst, where would you say you like you like your fics to be?
Apologies for replying a bit late, had to wait until I got home!
1. I guess it’s how they are kind of assholes to each other but in a fun way, but despite that they’re pretty consistently on the same wave-length and at the end of the day they trust each other 100%. I just enjoy the fact that they can’t seem to pass up on any opportunity to antagonize the other but when they put their minds to it they make one hell of a team...something like that.
2. Pining!Nami
3. This is really difficult haha. 10 because I can never say no to some juicy angst (both reading and writing it myself) but at the same time I love One Piece because of how funny and goofy it can be so while maybe not 1, I like fics that lean into that. I’m sorry, I realize this is kind of vague...but I really like both angsty fic and heart-warming/silly fic (and everything in between).
dear @ask-kitchenwitchsanji! i was your secret santa for the @opsecretsanta2019 exchange and i’ve come to finally bring your gift (finally!). first, of all i want to apologize for the delay and wish you happy holidays and a happy new year. all the best for this coming decade ✨✨ for your gift, i wrote fic and i ended up going with the prompts of near death experience and angst, because that’s my jam too, and boy let me tell you, this one really ran away from me. i had a lot of fun writing and hope you enjoy it as well.
title: brave face
characters: sanji, zoro, mentions of the rest of the straw hats.
summary: actions have consequenses and zoro’s had enough. or, sanji puts his life in danger. again.
words: 3 623
a/n: discussions of canon-typical violence and its more realistic consequences/death.
”What’s your problem, huh?”
Sanji blinks. Or he tries to, but his head hurts too much for the motion to be anything more than a slight wince.
Wait.
His head hurts?
Why?
What the fuck is going on? Did someone say something?
Fuck, it hurts.
---
”What’s your problem, Cook?”
There’s that voice again. Zoro.
Sanji grimaces. Of all the goddamn things in the world to wake up to-- He’s too fucking tired for this.
Shit, it really hurts all over. He must have been done in real good in their latest fight. Sanji grunts, tries to open his eyes. Slowly, his head is already pounding as it is. It takes a moment for his vision to clear, but sure enough he’s in the infirmary and the mosshead is sitting at the side of his bed. Gross.
Sanji moves his mouth. His lips are dry.
”What are you doing here?” he says. Tries to say. It’s annoying how hoarse his voice sounds, how weak. He must have been out of it for a good while.
Zoro doesn’t answer. Sanji would ask him again, but he’s too tired to bother and either way something is…off about the swordsman. The furrow of his brows, the set of his shoulders. It’s enough to unnerve Sanji, so he asks, has to ask:
“Is something wrong? Are the others okay?”
For some reason, that was the wrong thing to say because Zoro stands up abruptly, the look on his face mean as he replies:
“Look who’s talking.”
Normally that would be enough to goad Sanji into a fight but the shithead has a point. He’s too tired. He can barely keep his eyes open as is.
Zoro grunts and starts moving towards the door
“Everyone else is fine. I’m getting Chopper. Try to stay awake until he’s had a look at you, idiot,” he says and his voice is all even and quiet as he talks. Weird.
Try as he might it’s fucking hard, keeping his eyes open and Sanji feels himself drift back into nothingness.
---
Third time’s the charm.
Sure, everything still fucking hurts when Sanji wakes but the fog clogging his head is slowly starting to clear.
“You have a real problem, you know?” Zoro’s voice comes from the side of the bed and Sanji wants to scream.
He turns his head (slowly, slowly) to glare at the swordsman.
“Hey fuckhead, you really got nothing better to do than torment me?” Sanji says and while the edge is missing from his voice at least it doesn’t give up on him in the middle of the sentence. Small steps and all that. “Last I knew the infirmary belonged to Chopper.”
Zoro grimaces, the look on his face harsh.
“Even doctors need to sleep. Wasn’t doing him any good, fretting over you every hour.”
Sanji’s mouth clamps shut. After a moments struggle, his compulsion to antagonize Zoro loses out to his increasing need to understand what the fuck is going on and what the hell happened to him. He starts out easy.
“What time is it?”
“Early morning, rest of the crew’s still asleep,” Zoro answers. “I’m on watch.”
“Sure,” Sanji says, and it takes all his willpower to not comment on the fact that the swordsman had apparently been spending his shift in the infirmary instead of the crow’s nest. There was probably a reason for that.
Sanji wets his lips. As he starts coming back to his body it dawns on him just how bad shape he’s in. All this from a fight? While he’s not sure exactly what happened, he remembers the skirmish and the small crew of two-bit marines they’d run into. None of the usual big guns that were after them, just some local division leader too high on his own supply to realize just how outmatched him and his men were.
It just doesn’t add up. From what Sanji can tell he’s been knocked out for a good while, and the crew had been worried enough to assign him a watch. And he feels like pure shit. His body feels weak, his limbs sluggish and heavy. Loathe as he is to admit it, Sanji doubts he could get out of bed on his own. His head hurts and, even worse than that, his chest aches. Not just the pain from broken ribs – that he recognizes – but his insides feel raw, irritated. Like his airways have been filled with broken glass, like something chafes with every breath he takes.
“What happened?” Sanji asks.
“You drowned,” Zoro says.
Huh?
“Stop fucking around,” Sanji grits out.
“I’m not. You drowned.”
“Hey shithead, does it look like I’m in the mood for jokes?” Sanji shouts, “How the fuck would I drown?!”
Sanji doesn’t get an answer to that question. Right then the door is slammed open by Chopper who manages to look both rushed and newly awake, the hat on his head askew and his eyes wide-open.
“Sanji! You’re up,” their small doctor exclaims and then he pauses. Any other time and Sanji would have found it funny, the way Chopper’s face gave away the exact moment he took in the scene he’d walked into.
“Are you fighting?” Chopper asks, immediately he transforming into his man-form and getting between them. “But Zoro, you promised!” he berates as he drags the swordsman out from the infirmary.
“Yeah, yeah, apologies,” Zoro says, reaching up to straighten out the hat on Chopper’s head as he’s being shooed away. “The moron’s all yours, Doc.”
---
With only Chopper left in the room with him, Sanji isn’t quite sure what to say. He can’t say he cares very much for the sickbed, and unlike the rest of the knobheads on their crew it’s not very often his injuries are bad enough to keep him confined. There are exceptions, sure, but overall this is a foreign experience.
“How are you doing?”
Chopper is the first to speak, expertly stepping into his role and Sanji has to smile.
“I’m fine,” he reassures, “Should be back on my feet in no time.”
So what, his body hurts. He’s alive and there’s no reason that anyone should have to worry about him.
“Don’t doubt that for a second,” Chopper replies as he comes closer. “Is it really that difficult, to rest up properly for once?” he wonders and it’s only when Chopper steps up right by the bed that Sanji notices just how wobbly a smile their little reindeer is sporting.
Sanji stays quiet while he’s examined from top to bottom. He doesn’t doubt Chopper’s capabilities, or intentions, but something about the whole thing seems—excessive and it makes his skin crawl.
“Hey,” he starts, keeping his voice to a gentle murmur so as to not startle Chopper while he’s drawing blood. “Everything good?”
Chopper hums, absorbed enough in his work that he doesn’t look up. “I’d need the results from your blood samples to make sure, and it still too early to rule out neurological damage…” he trails off, brain finally catching up to what he’d let slip. “Not that I’m too worried! Everything seems fine so far so you don’t need to worry either, okay?”
Sanji finds himself fidgeting, his fingers running over the small band-aid on the inside of his elbow.
“Of course not,” he says finally.
---
To his absolute dismay Sanji is prescribed further bedrest and Chopper expressively forbids him from returning to his duties in the kitchen. Sanji protests to the best of his ability, expecting to get some type of support from the rest of crew. But to his surprise there was only approval of Chopper’s decision, and Sanji realizes all hope is lost when he turns to his captain and Luffy’s face is been serious, as if he’d tried to think long and hard on the matter. "You need to rest up first Sanji. Captain's orders!"
Effectively barred from the kitchen and told to rest, there’s not much left from Sanji’s usual routine to occupy himself with. He sleeps a lot, and it’s not like it’s possible to be truly alone on a ship like theirs. Luffy seems to have made it his personal mission to fill Sanji in on whatever idiocy he and Usopp have come up with during the day, and Robin, bless her, has taken to dropping by with books from the library. One afternoon, Nami had cleared out space for herself at Chopper’s desk to work on her maps muttering something about the deck being too noisy ,and Brook keeps sticking his head in and asking for suggestions on what to play next, wandering off but somehow always straying close enough that Sanji can hear the music too.
Still, the days are long and the nights even longer, and so when the ship is quiet and dark, Sanji broods.
It’s starting to catch up with him, the strangeness of the situation and his mind is filled with thoughts he’d rather not linger on. Like the relief on the faces of the crew that morning when he’d first woken up, when they’d filed in one after another with that same expression on their faces and that same weight leaving their shoulders as they caught sight of him. Like the state of his body, still so goddamn tired and worn.
‘You drowned’ Zoro had said and Sanji still doesn’t know what that means.
---
One night it all gets a little too much. Desperate to get a moment’s reprieve from the noise inside his head Sanji listens and waits. On the other side of the infirmary door the crew of the Sunny are slowly but surely settling for the night and finally the ship is silent. Sanji knows that Luffy has the first watch of the night which just means that their captain will be sleeping in the crow’s nest instead of in the men’s cabin, and so Sanji only looks around once before he steps out from the infirmary onto the deck.
It’s cold.
What was it Nami-san had said yesterday, they’d entered the climate zone of an Autumn island? It’s been a second since Sanji’s shivered like this, but wrapped in one of the blankets from his sickbed the chill against his skin makes him feel alive. He breathes in, holds the air, exhales. Fuck, he could really use a cigarette right now.
Sanji stands outside for a good while watching the sea and tasting the salt in the air. Some self-medication, he thinks to himself and snickers.
Next is the galley. He’s not stupid enough to go against doctor’s orders and try to cook something, but a cup of tea that he’s brewed himself, getting the stand in front of the stove and soak in the heat. He thinks that’d do him good.
So of course, because the universe hates him, he opens the door to the galley and steps inside only to find that he’s not alone. The lights are off but moonlight streams through the portholes and by the table Zoro is drinking.
Sanji stands by the threshold and curses the world.
Zoro looks up from his drink, his face infuriatingly stoic as he opens his stupid mouth.
“You’re not supposed to be here. Chopper’s gonna have your head.”
Sanji grits his teeth. Maybe it’s just as well that he’s not smoking, he would have bit through his cigarette by now otherwise.
“Shut up,” he mutters as he makes his way to the stove. It’s not worth it, starting a fight. Besides…”You’d snitch on me, mosshead?”
Zoro grunts and takes another swig from his bottle. It’s the good sake that Sanji had hid way back in the pantry. He imagines not much is left out of that stock.
Sanji inhales slowly and turns away. No fighting, he repeats inside his head like a mantra as he prepares his tea. It’s not worth it.
To his great disappointment Zoro's still sitting there when he turns back. He scowls as he takes a seat at the table but makes sure put his cup down gently.
He takes a sip, closes his eyes. Despite the unwanted presence on the other side of the table he feels himself relax. Why wouldn’t he? The galley is his domain, his second skin. Fuck, as much as he needed fresh air, this is it. Inside the galley, the heart of the ship, he’s okay.
When he opens his eyes he finds Zoro staring at him and at once the smile on his face drops. This fucker. The mosshead isn’t even drinking anymore. The bottle’s empty, his arms are crossed over his chest, the expression on his face unreadable as he keeps. Fucking. Staring.
Sanji’s had enough.
“What’s your problem?” he says and he tries to keep his voice calm, neutral. His voice is still raspy, even though it’s been days since he woke up.
Zoro face hardens.
“That’s my question.” He leans forward to rest an elbow on the table. “Actually, I've been asking you for a while now but no dice.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sanji wants to say. Unfortunately, he remembers the mosshead glued to his side in the infirmary, asking that one question with various degrees of rudeness attached. But that had only been until he’d woken up properly. The idiot sure had been making himself scarce since then.
“I have no idea what your taking about?” he says instead.
It takes a while for Zoro to respond, finally he says:
“Do you remember what happened?”
Sanji glares.
“No,” he admits finally. As much as he hates it he realizes at once what Zoro means and that this is his best shot at finally getting some answers.
“You drowned—” Zoro starts but Sanji interrupts him at once. He’s not here to listen to bullshit.
“Talk sense, mosshead. Start from the beginning.”
There’s no way I drowned.
It’s Zoro’s turn to glare, but if looks could kill Sanji would be burning in hell a hundred times over so he ignores him.
Then – finally – Zoro starts talking.
“We were about to leave the latest island when a bunch of marines ambushed us. The usual weaklings”
Sanji nods. That much he remembers, it had only been him, Luffy and the mosshead fighting while the others prepared the ship to set sail, stowing away their shopping and what not. It’s after that shit gets blurry.
“Well, their captain was apparently the ambitious type, had invested in all this advanced weaponry. Out of the norm on a small base like this one but still no different from the shit we’d run into before. We thought.” Zoro goes on speaking, his voice the usual drone but something about it is still unnerving, maybe it’s because Sanji knows that something ends up going south.
“So he kept going on about all his toys, you know the type, but then he mentioned something kinda troublesome. Some genius had come up the idea to combine those seastone nets of theirs with a bazooka or whatever. He said that, the marine captain, and aimed at Luffy.”
“Luffy didn’t notice, he was fighting some martial artist and he’s never been the type to listen twice to weaklings. But you did, Cook,” Zoro says, his face serious as he stares at Sanji. And Sanji realizes that that strange undercurrent to Zoro’s voice is rage.
“You heard the guy,” he continues, “and instead of shouting out a warning or kicking Luffy out of the way and dodging, you took the hit for him and was sent flying into the sea. And sure, you’re good swimmer but that net knocked the air out of you, and in the blink of an eye you were sinking. ‘S not like you can kick you’re way out of seastone, either.”
Sanji swallows. Not his greatest moment, but still.
“Big deal, someone got me out, right?”
Zoro’s not amused.
“You see, Cook. It took a moment, since both Luffy and I were busy with our own fights and that idiot is useless in the water anyway. But sure I jumped in after you and by the time I got you out the marines were done with. But seastone’s heavy, it slowed me down.”
Sanji’s stunned. That’s an unexpected confession, coming from the swordsman. It makes him uncomfortable.
“Called for Chopper when I got out because you weren’t responding. Think you swallowed a decent amount of water. He wanted to start compressions, you know, but seastone’s a bitch. It took you a while to free you, especially since four out of the crew couldn’t even help out.”
“You weren’t breathing when we finally got you free from the net. Chopper couldn’t find at pulse. You drowned.”
Sanji’s stomach churns. “Then what?” He manages to choke out.
Zoro shrugs. “Chopper started compressions, tried to get you breathing. The others helped him move you to the infirmary, and I guess they got you going after a couple of minutes. I’m not sure. I was trying to calm Luffy down."
“Why,” Sanji whispers.
“He would have killed those marines otherwise.”
Sanji runs his hands through his hair. He doesn’t want to look at the Zoro right now.
Fuck. The grip on his hair tightens. All this while he’d imagined all kinds of scenarios and yet the truth is worse than anythings he's managed to conjure up. He wants to accuse the other of lying, of making things up to fuck with him, but he knows Zoro’s not the type. Not even Usopp would lie about something like this. He feels bile at the back of his throat.
No wonder then. That he’d been feeling like shit. That the others had been looking at him like something fragile and precious. That Zoro was furious with him.
Speak of the devil.
“I’m gonna ask you again, Cook. What’s you problem?”
Sanji wants to laugh. Fuck this guy really, for choosing to do this now while his mind was still reeling.
“I don’t have a problem.”
“Then, why'd you take that hit in Luffy’s place instead of getting him out of the way?”
“Fuck if I know. I was just trying to save him. You would have done it too.”
Zoro sneers, the look on his face meaner than ever.
“Wrong. Anyone of us in the crew would have saved him, sure. Only you would put your sorry ass at risk, because you’re the only here with a death-wish.”
Sanji sees red.
“Like you’re the one to talk,” he spits out. “After Thriller Bark.”
“I was never going to die.”
Sanji stands up and it’s only the vertigo from rising so suddenly that stops him from kicking the swordsman through the wall. The hypocrisy is enough to throw all his senses awry.
“I was there, remember? I heard you offer your head in Luffy’s place!”
Sanji’’s self-aware enough to admit he’s the hotheaded type of guy. He doesn’t know how he finds it within himself to still keep a respectable volume.
Zoro grinds his teeth. Looking at him properly, Sanji can spot all these signs that tell him the calm Zoro’s projecting is a façade. The tense posture, the unnatural clench of his jaw. Suddenly Sanji’s tired, the fight running off him like water. He wishes they could just fight it out, cut through the tension with swords and kicks, without uttering a single world. Instead they’ve been reduced to this. It’s not like them.
“I remember,” Zoro says. “I know what I said, but unlike you I had the resolve to not die. Kuma was never gonna kill me.”
Sanji sits back down. He wants a smoke. He wants to not be here.
“You’re saying I would have died, and that’s why you knocked me out,” Sanji can’t help the resentment that colors his voice.
“Yes.”
“Because I’m weak.”
“Yes.”
There it is. It took two years but there it is. An admission.
“Don’t get me wrong, idiot. I’m not taking about your fighting ability, in that sense you’re as strong as any,” Sanji gets the distinct feeling that saying this out loud is like pulling teeth for Zoro. “But you’re fine with sacrificing your life, and that makes you weak.”
Sanji bites the inside of his cheek.
“That’s not true,” he counters but finds his voice unconvincing. He blames the early hour. The state of his body. Anything.
It would take a hundred years before he’d admit that Zoro has a point.
Zoro shakes his head and for a brief moment the mask is off. Instead of stern, he just looks weary and in the moonlit galley the shadows under his eyes are pronounced.
“I don’t how to get through to you,” he says and Sanji’s reminded of how young he is. How young they both are when it comes to the grand scheme of things; despite how much they’ve been through. But the moment passes and Zoro stands up.
Sanji realizes he missed his chance, but he not sure for what, and maybe that’s for the better.
“One more thing.” Zoro stops by the doorway, not even bothering to look back. “You’re not putting the crew through this again.”
The door falls shut behind him and Sanji is alone.
He leans his head back to stare at the ceiling.
Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do then?
Sure, this one was unecessary, but Sanji knows the sea is cruel. He's not naive enough to think that their little crew, however much they mean to him, are special enough to coast by without coming across tragedy or hardships. And maybe that means that somewhere deep down, unconsciously, he'd promised himself that when the time comes it's him and not them. Never them.
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