The Mind of Miss Yunie @missyunie - Tumblr Blog

Why The Caged Bird Sings | Chapter 5

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: One Piece (Liveaction) Rating: Explicit Relationships Vinsmoke Sanji x F!Reader Characters: Vinsmoke Sanji, Patty, Red Leg Zeff, Original Characters, Strawhat crew. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, minor POV switching. Summary: One night, you were brought to the luxurious Baratie Restaurant Ship, renowned for its exceptional cuisine that your family had been intrigued to sample. A particular blond and comely waiter captured your attention with his charming smile and gentle eyes, but while your beauty and sophistication intrigued him, Sanji also observed the profound nervousness that caused your jaw and body muscles to tense whenever your fiancé made contact with your hand or your parents delivered a humiliating criticism towards you. One dinner at the Baratie soon turned into a recurring event, and then more. As your friendship with Sanji slowly evolved into something that burned from within, you strove to make your longstanding dream come true; freeing yourself from a constricting existence. ------------------------- As Sanji looked at you curiously, the gentle smile never leaving his face, you asked him, "Do you know why the caged bird sings?" He thought about it for a moment before answering, "Because it has a song to give?" You chuckled at his response and shook your head. "You're not entirely wrong, but no."

Divider by firefly-graphics

Feel free to read this on AO3 if it is more comfortable for you due to its length. I only ask to support me with a like and reblog if you enjoy my work. ☺️

Author's note: Long chapters are a must for me apparently. Please be careful with the mentioned themes here, considering they include some emotional abuse again and a tiny bit of blood. Also, this update includes Spoilers about Sanji's past.

Working at the Baratie turned out to be the most rewarding experience of your life. However, as you wrestled to suppress your burgeoning feelings for Sanji, you also had to contend with the obstinacy of your father who, furious over losing everything because of you, adamantly refused to keep his distance.

As the day progressed, the realization that you wouldn't be returning from the Baratie to your old abode began to set in. That place, with its distinct eccentricities and allure, was on the brink of becoming your new home. The idea was simultaneously thrilling and deeply daunting.

Facing such a dramatic shift in lifestyle was a challenge you had never encountered before. Yet, it was a needed change that, despite its intimidating nature, could potentially act as a catalyst propelling you into a promising future.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you before,” Mari revealed during your meal.

Her expression was a tableau of genuine remorse, her spirit noticeably low. How could you possibly blame her for not revealing sooner that she had known Zeff all this while?

You offered her a candid smile. "Mari, there's no need to apologize. I'm sure you had your reasons. I can only imagine it wasn't an easy thing to share.”

"No, it wasn't," she admitted. "My father was a pirate, and I feared... you all might view me differently."

"My perception of you could never change, you're amazing. I'm sure the others would agree with me. And remember, not all pirates are inherently bad.”

"I know..." She paused, her gaze settling on her half-empty plate. "He was my hero, you see. He had a deep love for the open sea and harbored hopes of finding the One Piece to support our family. He wanted to secure a good life for me.”

You nodded in understanding, listening to her with rapt attention.

"His only flaw," she continued, "was that he was simply too kind-hearted for a pirate.”

"Is that really such a bad thing?" you asked.

Her lips curved into a sorrowful, desolate smile. "That's what led to his downfall.”

Your shoulders sank against the back of the chair, and your fork hung motionless in your hand. “How…?”

She let out a heavy sigh. "As the captain of his ship, he had his unique approach to planning and making deals. Unfortunately, not all members of his crew were in alignment with his vision. It took me a few years to piece it together, but it appears that a faction within his crew turned against him," she revealed.

You shook your head, disbelief creeping into your voice. "Please don't tell me they did what I'm fearing they did.”

"Well, more accurately, the one my father considered his trusted confidante did."

Your jaw slackened in shock. "Wait, he was betrayed and killed by his own right-hand man...?”

Wordlessly, Mari gave a solemn nod of confirmation.

All this while, she had to live with the harrowing knowledge that her father's life wasn't claimed by a tragic sea mishap, but by the very person—more beast than man, you thought—he trusted the most. Never once had she displayed a moment of vulnerability because of that. In fact, you couldn't recall ever seeing her shed a tear, and it made you wonder about the depth of pain she must have kept concealed within for so many years.

"Mari, I'm at a loss for words," you admitted.

"It's okay, Y/N. I appreciate you listening. I feel a great sense of relief now that you know," she said.

"What happened to that scoundrel? Did he just seize control of your father's ship?" you asked.

Mari's expression shifted from somber to a kind of grim satisfaction. "For a short while, yes. But without my father's navigational expertise, he didn't get very far," she stated.

"Did the ship sink?"

"Yes, but he survived. He's languishing in some marine prison now.”

A part of you couldn't help but feel that even imprisonment was too lenient a punishment for someone of his ilk.

"My father and Zeff were good friends. Their paths crossed several times and they held a great deal of respect for each other. When Zeff arrived in the East Blue before opening the Baratie, he sought me out. I didn't know him at the time, but he was so warm and approachable... He couldn't stop talking about how great of a man my father was.”

Zeff was far kinder than he often let on. The manner in which he engaged with you, attentively listening to your story and offering words of support and encouragement, gave you a glimpse into why Sanji found it so difficult to leave and pursue his dream.

"Zeff has always been there for me," Mari continued. "When my grandmother passed away three years ago, he offered me a place here at the Baratie.”

"He did? Why didn't you accept his offer?”

Mari shrugged nonchalantly. "I didn't think I'd make a good waitress. Nor a chef, for that matter. No, I was content with my life at home. I wanted to be with you all. You've become my new family.”

A warm feeling spread across your chest. "Aww."

"I’m serious, Y/N. You guys mean the world to me. I'd give my life for you," she stated earnestly.

You were convinced of her resolve, given that she wouldn't have thought twice about shooting your father that night if he had dared to advance even a single step further.

Upon reflection, the pieces began to fall into place. Mari's father was more than just a parent to her - he was a role model, someone she held in high regard and loved deeply. He was a man who returned her affection so profoundly that he didn't hesitate to put his own life on the line to sustain her. In stark contrast, the sight of your own father, who was entirely self-absorbed and exploiting his daughter for political agendas, must have made Mari seethe with anger.

Half-jokingly, you said, "That's great, but please, don't."

The remainder of the day was filled with pure bliss, between multiple courses that left the two of you completely satiated, and leisurely moments enjoyed in the lounge area inside the fish mouth. Mari reverted back to her usual jovial self, cracking jokes and playfully whispering in your ear about how much Sanji had been sneaking glances your way every time he stepped out of the kitchen. She chuckled heartily whenever your cheeks turned a bright shade of red in embarrassment, but you wouldn't trade these serene and heartfelt moments for anything else in the world. As nightfall approached, it was time for Mari to hoist the ship's bracket and set sail, but not before expressing one last thanks to Zeff for his hospitality and for welcoming you into his team.

She enveloped you in a hug so tight that it momentarily took your breath away. And then, as you watched the ship sail off into the distance, you couldn't help but wonder when you would see your friends again. You had never been separated from them for more than a handful of days, and that was the only thing from your homeland you knew you would miss and yearn for.

Zeff adhered to his word and introduced you to the remaining staff members at the end of their shift, gently leading you into the kitchen. While you strived to conceal your anxiety behind a gentle smile, Sanji was already on the front lines, ensuring that no one would act discourteously towards you. Patty, clearly caught off guard to see you there but already acquainted with you, extended a friendly pat on your back as a form of welcome.

Aside from the young, pale waiter who had served you and Christopher during your last visit, the others appeared somewhat apprehensive about your addition to the team. Nevertheless, they each introduced themselves one by one with polite nods or handshakes. The atmosphere was quiet and none of them seemed to treat you with any air of superiority, but you could distinctly sense their uncertainty regarding the skills you were bringing to the table.

In all honesty, you couldn't really fault them. After all, you had initially appeared to them as a noblewoman, garbed in an extravagantly priced dress and wearing high heels—hardly the image of someone who would seamlessly blend into their milieu.

But that was fine. You weren't at all offended and you certainly had no intention of letting their first impressions deter you.

On the other hand, Sanji was as amiable as ever, guiding you to a vacant cabin that Zeff had hastily arranged for your stay. It still needed a bit of work to truly resemble a presentable room, but you didn't mind its current minimalism. It was more than adequate, equipped with a bed, a desk, and even a private bathroom. You had all the time in the world to spruce it up and transform it into a space that reflected your personality.

"Let me know if you need anything, love," he offered, leaning casually against the door frame.

"Thank you, but for now, this is more than I could ask for," you replied gratefully.

Slipping the bag off your shoulder, you noted how light it felt. There was no need to bring your entire wardrobe with you, and given that you were in the middle of the ocean, a large stash of Berries wasn't necessary either. After all, you would gradually earn more through your work.

A fresh work uniform, seemingly tailored to your size, was neatly spread out on the bed. In addition, Zeff had thoughtfully supplied you with a portable Snail Phone, facilitating communication with your friends while away from home. It was astounding how much he had managed to accomplish in just a few hours, and how considerate he was towards you.

When you spun around, you found Sanji observing you quietly, a beautiful smile gracing his features, a sight that caused your heart to skip a beat again.

"What?" you inquired timidly, casually tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"I'm sorry, beautiful. It's just surreal to think that I'll get to see you every day," he admitted.

"Is that okay?”

"Oh, it's wonderful," he assured you. "I take it things went smoothly back home?"

You hissed through your teeth. "One could say that, yes. They certainly turned out better than expected.”

"You look great," he complimented.

“Really?”

Sanji slid his hands into his trouser pockets. "I mean, you always do. But right now, you seem even more... radiant. Happier, I would say."

You nodded in agreement. "I suppose that's exactly how I feel."

For a moment, much like your previous overnight stay at the Baratie, you both were caught in a silent exchange of glances, and you reveled in the comfort of his presence. If Mari were there, she would undoubtedly encourage you to capitalize on this moment, invite him to stay, and take advantage of the intimate setting to make a more assertive move.

You would be dishonest if you claimed the thought hadn't occurred to you, but it wasn't the appropriate time for such advancements. You required a good night's sleep and an early start, as the last thing you needed was to arrive late and disheveled for your inaugural shift.

That is, assuming he would genuinely consent to being with you in such a capacity.

As you parted your lips to speak, you discovered he did the exact same thing simultaneously, voicing the identical words in flawless unison.

“I should go to sleep.”

“You should go to sleep.”

Both of you laughed at that, casting your eyes downward.

"You should also take some rest," you specified. "You've been working the entire day.”

"I'm used to it," he stated with a quick shrug. "But, I don't wish to keep you up any longer than I already did.”

He eased himself off the wall, adjusting his stance and reaching out for the handle. "See you tomorrow, Y/N. Have sweet dreams.”

You responded with a broad smile. “Good night.”

Once the door shut in front of you and the sound of his footsteps gradually faded into the distance, you exhaled a long, deep breath you hadn't realized you were holding. For a moment, you stood rooted to the spot, surveying your surroundings. Then, suppressing a yawn, you picked up the uniform from the bed and folded it neatly, placing it gently on the chair in front of the wooden table.

You retrieved your nightwear from the bag, disrobing and washing your face before finally yielding to the beckon of the bed. The mattress was comfortable, striking the perfect balance between softness and firmness to ensure a good night's sleep. The pillow was incredibly plush and voluminous, cradling the weight of your head as if it were a cloud. The sheets had a silky feel to them and were imbued with that distinctive, delightful scent of cleanliness. Even though the weather was characteristically warm, you still reveled in the sensation of them against the skin of your thighs.

It didn't take long for you to succumb to sleep as the Baratie quieted with the passage of time. Even the music from the bar had now stilled, and you found tranquility in the soothing sound of the ship bobbing almost imperceptibly in the water.

For the first time, you slept peacefully, undisturbed and without any restlessness throughout your slumber. However, as dawn began to break and your eyes shot open, you discovered your anxiety had returned, amplified, and you found yourself unable to sleep any further despite the early hour.

There was still some time left before your shift officially commenced, but your current state of discomfort prompted you to act proactively and make your way to the kitchen earlier than intended. Thus, you departed the comfort of your bed, got yourself properly ready and donned the white uniform, which seemed to fit your shape and size perfectly, save for the sleeves a tad too long that required a bit of rolling up.

As you exited your room, you made sure to minimize any noise, tiptoeing along the corridor and down the stairs. The ship was hushed, and you could hear the resonating sound of heavy snoring coming from somewhere, echoing through the wooden walls.

The dining room was incredibly spacious, completely vacant and dimly lit. Gently, you pushed the kitchen doors open and stepped inside, immediately greeted by the amalgamated aroma of food lingering in the air. You took the liberty of inspecting the space, checking every drawer and cabinet to memorize the locations of all the utensils. As you walked around, you spotted the grime on the stoves and counters, along with the floor appearing somewhat dull and dusted with flour.

Deciding not to waste another second, you grabbed the broom and rag, setting about diligently scrubbing every inch of the surface, even delving into hidden corners that appeared to have been neglected for quite some time. The tiles transitioned from matte to mirror-like in their polish, which spurred you on to accomplish even more.

Once the floor had dried, you meticulously cleaned the counters, stoves, and cabinets, removing all remaining crumbs, fingerprints, and lingering remnants of food. In a relatively short span of time, the kitchen was transformed, looking nothing like its previous state, and seeming almost brand new again.

As the sun began to fully rise, you prepared a quick breakfast for yourself without sullying the freshly cleaned kitchen, then comfortably settled at the far table to rest your aching back and arms. Zeff and Patty were the first two to arrive, and you suppressed a smile at their shocked expressions upon seeing their workplace in such a neat and tidy condition.

Rising to your feet, you crossed your hands behind your back in a polite, professional stance. Once again, you were engulfed by nervousness, but you had become adept at hiding it.

"Good morning, sir. Patty.”

Zeff's eyes widened as he noticed your presence. "Ah. You're here already.”

"Yes, I've been here for the past two hours. I took the liberty of cleaning things up in the meantime, I hope that's okay.”

You could discern the hint of a smile forming beneath his large mustache. "Oh, you did, did you? Good job. Did you manage to get any sleep?”

You nodded in response. "Yes, sir.”

"Would you look at that!" Patty exclaimed as he headed to his station. "I've never seen the stove so shiny before!”

His enthusiasm was infectious, and also quite flattering.

With the continuous cycle of cooking, maintaining a spotless environment seemed an uphill battle. Yet, cleaning was an activity you found gratifying enough to repeat, and that always brought you immense satisfaction. The process of eradicating dirt to unveil the hidden beauty underneath held a peculiar charm for you. It was as though you viewed it like a powerful metaphor, one that deeply resonated with you.

Zeff placed his hands on his hips, looking at you with a sense of pride. "Since you have a knack for it, the dining tables could do with some scraping," he suggested.

You knew he wasn't attempting to pigeonhole you into being the hub of their ship. Instead, he recognized and appreciated the contentment you derived from your accomplishments.

In fact, his request only broadened your grin further, and within seconds, you were already brandishing a damp cloth, primed for use. "Consider it done, sir!”

You inspected every single table on both floors to ensure none fell short of looking their best. Sanji found you engrossed in beautifying them, adorning them with flowers and straightening the tablecloths. Coming across him in the morning, complemented by his charming, radiant smile, added yet another delightful dimension to your new lifestyle at the Baratie. The manner in which he wore his jacket drew your admiration - every meticulous finger movement as he secured each button, the way they flexed and bent.

Their appeal amplified throughout the day, as he skillfully crafted meals for the various courses at the restaurant, from brunch to late dinners. Adhering strictly to Zeff's menu turned out to be a hurdle, as his inherent creativity frequently emerged, compelling him to add his own ingredients or personal touches. Zeff harbored a distinct preference for Oregano, a viewpoint Sanji did not share and referred to it as a seasoning for savages. Being a spectator to their animated debates was a source of amusement, ensuring that your shift was devoid of any boredom or fatigue.

As time unfolded, the rest of the team seemed to ease and unwind in your presence, noting your diligence in dishwashing and your quick response to any given instructions. It didn't take long for you to navigate your way around the kitchen, given your sudden familiarity with every corner and crevice of it.

And just like that, you showcased your inherent worth for the first time, concluding your shift with aching feet and weary shoulders.

The simple yet profound joy of sitting in the kitchen with Sanji, a warm cup of tea in your hands, was unparalleled. The sheer joy it brought you was unlike anything you'd ever experienced in your past roles. Back then, your presence was barely recognized by your superiors and coworkers, unless they wanted you to scurry around, fulfilling orders from one corner of the office (or building) to another. You were but a dolly at their mercy, with no room to voice your opinions or confront them, enslaved both at home and in the workplace.

The Baratie, in stark contrast, was nothing like that.

Interrupting your train of thoughts, Sanji asked, "How do you feel, my lovely?”

Somehow, every time he used those endearing terms, it made your knees go weak.

"This is incredible, truly" you replied genuinely. "I'm not used to this level of consideration. You all made me feel as a part of your team today.”

"Because you are. You work with us now, you're going to live here.”

"I know. Sometimes I feel like this is just a dream, and that the moment I wake up, I'll realize none of it was real.”

"Trust me love, if this weren't real, I would be disappointed."

You laughed lightly. "If this is a dream, then you would simply disappear.”

"What if I blink and you vanish in front of me?" He questioned. "Because you are the one who looks like a dream to me.”

As you delicately tasted your tea, your hands hung briefly in mid-air. Sanji was adorned with his characteristic, spontaneous grin that you had grown familiar with and already treasured. His unfeigned way of conveying his sentiments was a quality you found distinctly admirable.

You swallowed the warm liquid, gently placing the mug back down. "Smooth," you commented.

If such words had been spoken by Christopher, or anyone else thrust into your life, you would have been repelled. But Sanji was a man brimming with chivalry, a characteristic that seemed to have been lost in time.

And yet, in truth, he remained a complete enigma. Beyond his work at the Baratie, his culinary passion, and his dream of unearthing the All Blue, you knew nothing about him.

For a moment, you were spellbound by his smile, until your burgeoning curiosity became too strong to hold back, taking the reins.

"Hey Sanji, can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything," he promptly replied, his gaze meeting yours again.

"What did you do before meeting Zeff? Where do you come from?" you asked, eager to peel back the layers surrounding his past.

The sudden veil of gloom that descended upon his eyes didn't escape your notice. For a moment, you experienced a twinge of remorse, tempted to take back your words and hold your tongue.

"I come from the North Blue," he replied, seeming distant. "I didn't stay there for long. My quest for a new life as a cook eventually led me to a position aboard a ship.”

You couldn't help but notice the conspicuous ambiguity in the details of his story.

"So, your family stayed in the North Blue?" you probed further, hoping to glean more.

Sanji began to fidget with his lighter, absentmindedly flicking its cap open and closed.

"My father and my siblings. As for my mother... she passed away many years ago.”

"Oh... I'm sorry to hear that," you expressed softly. “That must have been incredibly hard for you.”

“Thank you, love. But I'm okay," he reassured, his usual positivity returning to his face.

He was certainly elusive, which only validated the likelihood of him wrestling with a turbulent past, much like your own. Perhaps even more intensively.

"You... you didn't have a good relationship with your family either, did you?"

You hadn't really planned to verbalize that question. However, as soon as the query sprouted in your mind, it escaped from your lips without any form of restraint.

"Why do you say that…?" he inquired, surprise reflected in his eyes.

"Oh, uhm.... just a hunch," you quickly clarified, your voice carrying a trace of embarrassment. "But please, don't feel obligated to talk about it if you're not comfortable.”

Sanji seemed to be immersed in deep thought, his eyes on you, yet seemingly engrossed in a completely separate world. Then, they lit up again, morphing his countenance into one of delightful sweetness.

"It's fine. I don't usually talk about this, but... I believe you deserve an explanation.”

He drew a deep breath, resuming the flicking motion on his lighter. "Much like you, I also didn't want to conform to my family's values. They viewed me as someone lacking in combat prowess.”

A part of you was swept by a wave of shock from such a declaration, causing you to blink subconsciously a few times.

"My ex-fiancé would strongly disagree with that," you asserted.

He chuckled. "I was just a child back then, love.”

"Well, no one should expect a child to be a combat prodigy.”

What kind of family would desire for an innocent child to become a killing machine?

Yet again, given the extent of your own father's brutality towards you, you shouldn't have been particularly surprised.

"My family is... unique," he elucidated. "I made a conscious choice to uphold principles of kindness and reverence for life, placing my culinary interests above everything else.”

"And it's fortunate that you did. I highly doubt anyone else could cook the way you do.”

Your words were clearly inflating his ego, as evidenced by the smug smirk that started to form on his face.

"Sanji, you made the right choice. Unlike me, you had the courage to stand up for yourself and leave at such a young age.”

You perceived that his story was far more intricate than he had revealed, but for the time being, you found it adequate to understand his motivations. Intriguingly, though for completely different reasons, it appeared that both of you had endured a comparable degree of adversity.

Perhaps there was an additional motive driving him to assist you. It might not have been solely out of genuine respect for you as a woman, but something more - a familiar element he identified as a gross injustice.

"Nah, dealing with all that for so long only made you stronger," he pointed out. "Y/N, you have no idea how truly incredible you are.”

Although he had a reputation as a charmer, you recognized that his sentiment wasn't mere shallow flattery designed to captivate you. No, Sanji truly meant each word he said. He was acknowledging you, the genuine you, in a way that no one else had ever managed to do.

Silently, you moved to touch the hand that was still holding onto his lighter. He let go of the item as your fingers reached out, taking his hand with a grip that was gentle, but definitively steady and devoid of any doubt.

"Thank you for saying that," you whispered softly. "It turns out we have a few things in common.”

There was more to your connection than just your interweaved histories, each shadowed by family expectations that had seemed overwhelming since infancy. If Sanji viewed you as such an extraordinary person, he was even more so himself. He surpassed any other man you had ever encountered, and in that moment, you could no longer overlook the burgeoning emotions of affection you were starting to nurture for him.

Because it was undeniably the truth. You were falling in love with Sanji, regardless of where that journey might lead you.

"Of course, love," he responded, with an assuredness as if it was the most natural thing in the world, yet somewhat shyly reciprocating your gesture, enveloping your warm fingers within his grip.

Observing it, your hand suddenly appeared so small compared to his.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this as well. I don't know your family, and I'm not entirely sure what kind of fighting skills they expected you to master. But, from my perspective, you're as exceptional on the battlefield as you are in the kitchen.”

The manner in which he conquered your former fiancé, employing those fluid leg movements, was still etched in your memory.

“You flatter me.”

You shrugged. "It's something that had to be done.”

"I adore your straightforwardness.”

'And I adore you,' you silently confessed to yourself.

Silently, you reached for your mug again, taking a sip of your tea without releasing his hand. He maintained a firm grasp, even starting a gentle movement with his thumb, softly stroking your knuckles. You could feel the spark, the connection, the mutual comprehension between both of you.

Only when the noise of Zeff's peg leg resonated in your ears, did you quickly part from each other and clear your throat. You downed the rest of your tea in one noticeable gulp, standing from your chair to move towards the sink. Zeff squinted, sensing the suddenly tense ambiance, and repeatedly shifted his gaze between you and Sanji. As you cleaned the mug, he kept silent, merely waiting for you to finish and taking off his hat.

"Aye, that's enough for today," he remarked, observing the immaculate state of the kitchen once more.

"Do you require anything else, sir?" You asked.

"Call me Zeff. And no, you've done more than was asked of you. It's time for you to take a break and rest.”

With a final smile, you nodded and set the dried mug down. You felt the watchful eyes of both men on you, observing your every move as you stepped away.

"And Y/N," Zeff added, invoking your name, "You've done an excellent job.”

You almost blushed at the compliment, a gesture you weren't typically accustomed to receiving. "Thank you, sir-Zeff. I'll see you tomorrow.”

"Avoid showing up as early as you did this morning. I want you to get some sleep.”

It wasn't a reproach, rather a gentle suggestion stemming from his kindness.

With your hand leaning against the one of the doors, you turned around, a wide smile unfurling on your face. "I'm afraid I can't make any promises.”

Zeff's mustache twitched upwards as he chuckled, finding amusement within himself.

And with that, you were on your way, climbing the stairs towards your cabin, undoing the buttons of your jacket as feelings of pride, joy, and satisfaction washed over your heart.

Days slipped into weeks, and before you even realized it, you had seamlessly integrated into the team and were experiencing the highest level of job satisfaction you'd ever felt.

Your responsibilities were varied and all of equal significance. You cleaned, you washed, you provided assistance, and sometimes, with surges of confidence, you even ventured out to take orders from the customers. Zeff never found it necessary to aid you or assign you a specific task, as you were resourceful enough to take initiative on your own. Was someone too occupied cooking three different meals and couldn't leave the stove? You were there to hand over any needed ingredients or supplies from the cabinets. Did a dish accidentally tumble and shatter all over the floor? It was no issue at all, as it only took you a few minutes to restore the tiles to their pristine condition.

Contrary to what anyone might have anticipated, you also worked seamlessly with Sanji, despite the tangible attraction that lingered in the air. You were incredibly harmonized, always aligned and coordinating impeccably. With your presence in the kitchen, Sanji seemed to exhibit heightened meticulousness and skills, although the animated exchanges with Zeff continued to be a common event.

You valued the way he appreciated everything you did, even dashing over to you if he thought you might have inadvertently burned yourself or nicked a finger. At times, he could be slightly overprotective, but his ample attentiveness was the highlight of your day, day in and day out.

You lost track of the times Mari had squealed in your ear, whenever you mentioned that nothing had occurred between you and Sanji. She was essentially your cheerleader, anxiously anticipating the moment you could finally admit that you had spent the night together. Admittedly, there were countless chances for you to invite him over, or even just steal a kiss during the infrequent moments of privacy you managed to secure. However, Sanji never took that bold step forward, and you certainly didn't have the bravery to make the first move yourself.

A part of you still wrestled with insecurity, suspecting that his kindness and casual flirtation were nothing more than platonic jest.

One day, a particularly disheartening situation occurred that only served to amplify your doubts about him. As you moved to and fro in the dining room, cleaning up the vacant tables and setting them anew, you overheard two girls conversing near the restroom, casually chatting while holding cigarettes between their impeccably manicured fingers.

"That guy is so attractive, don't you think?”

"You mean the blond one? What's his name... Sanji?”

Your ears perked up, and you deliberately slowed your movements, feigning the need to smooth out a few wrinkles in the tablecloth.

"Exactly. I think he's attracted to me.”

Your heart plummeted.

"To be fair, he seemed taken with all the beautiful women in the room.”

You shifted to another table, a bit further away but still within hearing distance of the two ladies. You were aware that Sanji exhibited a distinct kindness, as he also did towards your mother, Mari, and Rory when they visited the Baratie. Nevertheless, you couldn't dispel the notion that you were simply one among many, another girl for him to charm for entertainment and to make his work hours more enjoyable.

You knew deep down that your relationship was distinct, that he never misled you and truly relished your company. Yet, there was a persistent voice in your head that insisted on caution.

"Well yes, but did you notice the way he looked at me?”

"Like he wanted to devour you? Yeah, I noticed that a bit."

The glass you were holding almost slipped from your grasp, and you exhaled a sigh of relief the moment you managed to steady it against your chest.

"I'll try to snag a private moment with him. Then we'll see who's devouring who.”

Their laughter felt like a sharp stab, and you couldn't stomach to stay and overhear any longer. You collected as much as you could from the tables, retreating to the kitchen with a sinking feeling as your stomach churned into an uneasy knot.

For the remainder of the day, your mind was elsewhere, and although you resisted the urge to act childishly and sulk, you still found it difficult to stand next to Sanji. Naturally, he remained completely oblivious, cracking jokes and smiling at you in a way that momentarily soothed your troubled heart, only for it to be stung again as soon as you recalled the woman's words.

You couldn't even bear to look at him as you withdrew to your cabin at the end of your shift, collapsing into a dejected ball on your bed. Mari, of course, highlighted the folly in your behavior, trusting a stranger's baseless assertions more than Sanji himself. She had a point, you conceded, but the longer you worked at the Baratie, the harder it became for you to be around him without any progress in your relationship.

"I'm telling you, Y/N, you need to get your head out of your butt,” she voiced through the snail phone.

"Well, thank you.”

"Look, I love you, but you're driving me up the wall. What exactly are you waiting for? Do you really want to play the innocent until some other woman swoops in and snatches him away?”

"It's not that simple. We work together, and Zeff watches us the whole time.”

She snickered. "Of course he does. Do you honestly expect him to be fine with you two going at it like rabbits in his kitchen?”

"Mari, what the hell!! I never said that!”

The sound of her wheezing laughter managed to coax a smile onto your face, and you found your nightly conversations with her absolutely indispensable at that point.

"All I’m saying is that you should really give this a shot. What's the worst that could result from it?”

You lay down in frustration, shielding your eyes with the back of your arm. "Looking like a total fool if he rejects me? Getting my heart broken? Having to work alongside him every day after that?”

She sighed. "So what? It's not the end of the world. I understand you like him, but it is what it is. If he rejects you, which I seriously doubt he would, you are strong enough to move on and continue with your job. At least you'd know where you stand.”

You knew your friend was speaking the truth. As hard as it might be, knowing the truth would certainly be better than constantly questioning yourself every single day.

But the fact of the matter was, you deeply cherished your friendship with Sanji. The last thing you wanted was to jeopardize it and create a tense atmosphere in your workplace if things took a turn for the worse.

"Mari, I'm not sure. I think the best course of action for me is to just be a good coworker without holding any expectations.”

She grunted. "Are you freaking kidding me?”

"I'm not like you. I wish I could be stronger and just as bold as you are, but I can't.”

Mari fell silent, and for a moment, you thought the line had accidentally dropped.

“Mari? Are you still there?”

She let out a sigh, but this time it was shaky, laden with sadness, brimming with emotions.

"Y/N, if there's anything my dad has taught me, it's that we only live once in this crazy world. Life is unpredictable, and in the current age, the things we have today might be completely gone tomorrow. All we'll be left with then is regret.”

You sat up straight, repositioning the snail phone in your ear, and listened in silence.

"I understand that I can come off as a bit harsh at times, but I practically grew up on my own. Since my grandmother passed away, I've had to make every single decision for myself, without anyone dictating what's right or wrong. I'm used to going after what I want, and I take risks knowing that they might not work out. But at least that gives me some peace of mind.”

Her words, somehow, stirred up emotions within you, and you felt a lump forming in your throat. You had always been so absorbed in your own troubles, consumed with your frustrations against your father and the way your family treated you, that you overlooked the fact that she was completely alone, shouldering everyone's burdens without any questions or complaints.

"I'm not going to dictate what you should do, this is your life we're talking about. But whatever you and Sanji share at this moment, it's unique for you and likely for him too. Even if you're not destined to end up together, even if you remain just friends or mere coworkers, why would you want to miss out on the chance of experiencing happiness, even if it's only for one night?”

Upon further reflection, her perspective appeared to be faultless. You weren't yet sure about what you wanted from Sanji, and you unquestionably understood you couldn't change his character or the way he interacted with women. You were always the one being taken advantage of, treated as a showpiece to be paraded around, and now your fear of Sanji just trifling with your feelings intensified as your affection for him grew.

"Thank you, Mari. I appreciate your honesty.”

You heard the smile in her voice through the snail phone. "Just give it some thought, okay? You know I only want what's best for you.”

“I do.”

And so, the moment you ended the call and put the device away, as soon as you readied yourself for sleep and turned off the lights, you made a promise to yourself not to let your past interfere again. Even if Sanji offered his charming smile to someone else out of courtesy, even if he enjoyed being flirtatious and treating all women equally, you couldn't deny the fact that he genuinely cared for you and liked you as an individual. He always made sure that you had everything you needed at the Baratie, that you never felt isolated or overlooked. He acted as a guardian, a protector, a figurative cornerstone for your stability. Above all, he was a remarkable man brimming with virtues, one who liked to dream big, but chose to stick to his current routine for reasons you weren’t quite fully aware of.

Regardless of the outcome, you resolved to nurture this relationship and see where it would take you.

As you drifted off to sleep, your thoughts meandered to the woman in the restaurant who was intent on securing some alone time with the man you were interested in. Your lips curled into a satisfied beam at the simple fact that she had to depart unfulfilled.

As more days passed, your inner turmoil appeared to have quieted down. You thoroughly enjoyed your time at the Baratie more and more as it kept you active and facilitated great teamwork, along with a few valuable lessons directly from Sanji or Zeff himself. Apparently, you had risen significantly in the old man's esteem when you detected a piece of meat that had been stashed away and was clearly turning bad. With your enhanced sense of smell, you were consistently aware of the terrible stench of decay in the air, which no one else seemed to take seriously. Your persistence and unique ability earned you further praise and appreciation, which only served to make your job far more gratifying than you had anticipated.

Zeff never specifically instructed you to cook, but you could tell that he wanted to broaden your knowledge and help you memorize things that might come in handy in case of emergencies. You enjoyed preparing food and experimenting with it, but as someone who had never made any complex dish for a large group of people, you were content with merely assisting the experts around you.

It's not like you didn't have enough to carry out, anyway. The pile of plates, glasses, and cutlery in the sink wouldn't clean itself, and you had become quite proficient at creating accurate inventories based on what the team already possessed or would require in the near future. It was exhausting, but you loved every moment of what you did, as there was nothing more satisfying than feeling indispensable.

Unfortunately, your resolve was not as robust as you had believed it to be.

During lunch, you were carefully arranging dishes onto a silver tray, strategically positioning them in a way that would allow you to carry everything back to the kitchen without the entire load tumbling onto the floor. The large pillar in front of you was keeping you hidden and tucked away from the newcomers entering the restaurant, but as destiny would have it, the sound of those voices was unmistakable and impossible to overlook.

Your blood turned icy cold, and your body stiffened to the point where you thought you had lost all ability to move. Your hands trembled, and you had to let go of the tray to avoid accidentally tipping it over.

Your parents were there, casually dropping by as if nothing had ever happened, being ushered by the fish-man to a distant table for two. From your vantage point, you could see your father glancing around before taking a seat and perusing the open menu in front of him. You immediately put two and two together, deducing that he was simply hoping to catch sight of you among the gathering crowd.

Your breathing escalated, and your face was likely turning as pale as the tablecloths in the dining area. What led them to the Baratie? Had they decided to drop in simply to relish the high-quality food, or was there another, more personal reason that filled you with a sense of dread just at the thought of it?

It took you a moment to notice Sanji next to you, calling your name and immediately expressing concern for your sudden state of shock.

"Y/N? Are you okay?”

When you met his face, Sanji's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"They're here," you whispered, eyes wide open, now fixated on the back of your mother’s head.

Sanji's gaze roamed across the room, finally resting on your parents' table. His lips narrowed into a thin line, his hands idly positioned on his hips as he fell into deep contemplation. There was no need for words, because he knew. No matter the distance you had traveled since your departure from your hometown, the scars left by that man's actions were indelible.

And he, more than anyone else, could comprehend that depth of pain.

You took a step back, gripped by terror. "They've come all the way here for me.”

"Hey, look at me, beautiful.”

Gently, he placed his hands on your shoulders, attempting to divert your attention from the painful memories. "You don't know that. Maybe they just came to eat.”

"No, it’s not that. I ruined my father’s career and political ambitions. I was naive to think he would just let me go.”

With Admiral Wheeler on your side, you anticipated a sense of discretion, a restraint in their pursuit of you. Desperate and anxious, you glanced from one side to the other, inhaling and exhaling as if you were gasping for air.

"Y/N, calm down, I'm right here with you.”

He cupped your face, his warm hands pressing against your cheeks, affording you a brief respite to draw some calming breaths. His eyes, hypnotic and near-magical, softened as he brushed away a loose strand of hair.

"You're not alone. I won't let anything happen to you.”

Your hands clung to his elbows with desperate entreaty, begging for his assistance. "Keep him away from me. Please.”

He smiled. "As if you even need to ask.”

Gradually, you succumbed to the warmth of his touch, quelling the resurgent fears that threatened to consume you.

"Stay in the kitchen, don't come out until they've left.”

"I was supposed to set the tables...”

Sanji shook his head, beginning to undo his uniform, and handing you his jacket with the most tender expression you'd ever seen. "I'll handle it, love. Just stay in there.”

"Wait, you can't be serious. You hate being a waiter.”

"For you, I could be anything," he replied, giving a playful wink before heading out into the dining hall.

You remained still, vigilantly avoiding notice, as you watched Sanji roll up his sleeves, readying himself to clear the tables of the remnants of prior meals. You saw your father's attention divert to him, and he muttered something to your mother who, in response, looked at the chef curiously and nodded her head in acknowledgment.

Sanji remained unfazed, extending only a brief, polite smile towards your mother, which quickly morphed into a frown directed at your father, a silent admonition hanging in the air. You noticed the man’s skin take on its usual reddish hue, a telltale sign of his anger, and how his wife skillfully kept him in check with a light squeeze on his wrist.

A part of you wasn't sure whether to find humor in the scene or worry over your father's short fuse. Christopher, despite his years of training and muscular stature, was tamed rather easily. Your father wouldn't stand a chance against Sanji's agile and powerful kicks.

Before retreating back to the kitchen, you succumbed to the temptation of pressing your nose into Sanji’s jacket, inhaling his unique scent. You could distinctly identify it amidst the remnants of spices—nutmeg, clove, and a touch of black pepper—, with that underlying note of sandalwood, and a hint of fresh, clean citrus. There was also a faint hint of tobacco, a testament to his ever-present cigarette, which blended with the other scents to create a smoky undertone that wasn't overpowering but rather contributed to his allure.

As outlandish as it may seem, that alone was enough to anchor you.

Under Sanji's vigilant eyes, you felt an unshakeable belief that you were safe from harm. There was comfort in knowing your parents would soon leave after their meal, and a future encounter was unlikely in the near term. All you needed to do was hold on a bit longer, continue performing your duties impeccably, and not let their presence destabilize the life you had painstakingly built for yourself.

You were so mistaken.

Over the next several hours, your mind became wholly occupied with your tasks, allowing you to forget about your parents having lunch nearby. Sanji had retreated to the kitchen, reverting to his role as sous chef, while you meticulously attended to cleaning stoves, pans, and silverware in between courses. You found solace in the routine assignments that had become your refuge. Each dish you cleaned, each pot you scrubbed, offered a momentary escape from the memories of your past and the oppressive grip of your family's ambitions.

The frequent glances you exchanged with Sanji were incredibly soothing. The smiles, the affirmative nods, the gentle brushes of fingers against your back whenever he passed close to you. All your fears had dissipated, replaced by a wonderful sense of protection, security, and care.

Knowing your father's lack of restraint and common sense, however, you should have known better than to celebrate too soon.

The lively chatter of patrons outside soon transformed into a curious murmur, as everyone could hear the shouts of someone making demands and growing increasingly irate with the negative responses from the staff. It all occured in a sequence; the commanding insistence on being left undisturbed, the determination to call you out from your seclusion, the stomping in the dining area that intensified and grew louder as the unruly man outside approached the kitchen. You couldn't even brace yourself for what was coming, because the moment the doors swung open, your father appeared like an unwelcome storm, disrupting the harmony of the space.

Disregarding the restaurant's rules and the basic etiquette one should show towards the employees, as soon as he spotted you with an apron and a wet dish in your hand, his features blazed with fury.

"I knew I'd find you here," he spat out, his voice oozing with contempt as his glare locked onto yours.

You stood frozen at the sink, your hands still submerged in soapy water, your face pale.

"Is this what you wanted? To be a damn scullery maid for the rest of your life?”

The kitchen fell into silence, your coworkers watching the unexpected confrontation with a blend of shock and worry. Your father moved closer, his expression a contorted mix of smugness and rage. "Well, it's not surprising," he continued, his voice a derisive sneer. "After all, it's not as if you could aspire to anything better.”

Sanji intervened at that moment, his demeanor cool but his eyes filled with silent anger. He positioned himself between you and your father, his stance protective. "That's enough," he stated, his voice quiet but exuding an undeniable authority. "You have no right to speak to her like that.”

The man scoffed, glaring at Sanji with even more repulsion. "And here's the knight in shining armor. This isn't any of your business, boy.”

Sanji met your father's menacing tone without hesitation, his resolve remaining firm and unshaken. "You are in our restaurant, right in our kitchen, showing disrespect to one of ours. We treat everyone as family here, so yes, it is my business sir. If you have any complaints, you can take them outside.”

The corners of your mouth lifted slightly at Sanji's defensive words. His broad shoulders and wide back served as a barrier, effectively isolating you from the relentless monster.

"She’s my daughter," your father emphasized. "I have every right to speak to her as I see fit.”

Sanji took a deep breath, stepping forward just as your mother burst through the doors, imploring her husband to cease his actions. Surprisingly, for the first time, she appeared reluctant to stir up a commotion in a public place.

The tension in the room was tangible, as various team members instinctively reached for whatever was at hand, be it knives or pans. Patty's slicing blade was particularly alarming.

You couldn't let the situation escalate and descend into complete chaos. They all deserved far more than such a tense and hostile atmosphere.

Still clutching the damp plate, you reached for Sanji's upper arm and stepped out from behind him, offering a reassuring nod to indicate that you could manage the situation independently. He was hesitant, yet chose to honor your decision, giving you sufficient room to proceed while maintaining a close proximity to you.

Your eyes held a hollow darkness as you regarded the man as if he were a total stranger, an insignificant bug to be squashed. "This isn't the place for you, sir. I respectfully request that you settle your bill and leave the Baratie immediately.”

You hadn't anticipated his retreat and compliance, yet his cackling response to your professional, albeit intimidating intervention, caused your grip on the plate to tighten even further.

"Do you really believe you're superior to me? Look at yourself, washing dishes like the utter failure that you are.”

Facing such humiliation once again, especially in front of Sanji and your colleagues, made you feel incredibly small and miserable. The last thing you wanted was to introduce your family drama into your new life, and even less so, your workplace.

You held your tongue, as none of your thoughts were suitable for the setting you were in. You refrained from mocking him for wanting to thrust you into an even grimmer lifestyle by marrying you off to a marine and relegating you to household chores. You didn't rebuke him for being such a disastrous parent that he made you wish you had never been born too many times, either.

The plate was creaking. You could have let it go, but you required something, anything, to clutch at, a physical outlet for your escalating frustration and the biting retorts you were forced to suppress.

“Y/N does a remarkable job,” Sanji interjected.

"In what, cleaning? That's merely part of her training."

Your mother tried to pull the man's arm to lead him away, but your father jerked violently, nearly causing her to stumble backward.

"After all the efforts I've made to educate you, to secure a decent life for you.”

Your jaw set.

"The reality is, everyone would be better off without your pathetic existence.”

The plate splintered in your hands, fragments of ceramic scattering on the floor. It was a mystery how you managed to keep your composure, as for the first time, you felt a powerful urge to physically assault your own father, to land a blow so severe it would render his face unrecognizable.

You could feel your heartbeat pulsating in your eardrums, your palm enclosing a single, sharp fragment of the plate.

"What the bloody hell is going on in my kitchen?”

The moment Zeff arrived, your mother let out a startled yelp, while your father barely acknowledged the head chef, his gaze fixated provocatively on you. It was as if he was anticipating, even baiting a response from you. So engrossed was he in his perverse motivations and aspirations, he would have accepted harm if it meant seeing you confined within the walls of a Marine prison.

It would have been the ideal retaliation against you. His despicability truly knew no bounds.

"This place is not a tourist attraction. Get out.”

Zeff was incensed, his irritation amplified by seeing your unsettled mental state, and the blood dribbling from a gash in your hand, to which you appeared entirely unaware.

"Oh, I'm leaving," your father retorted. "And she's coming with me.”

Sanji moved again, barring the brash man from advancing further. However, Zeff had already run out of patience, extracting his pistol and aiming it at your father's head. "Seems like my message wasn't clear. Allow me to clarify.”

Terrified, your mother gasped, pleading with her husband to relent and withdraw. For a moment, he didn't even blink, but the visible swallow and the sweat beading on his forehead were clear indicators of his rising blood pressure due to fear.

Zeff's hand clamped around his collar, and with a rough tug, he forced your father to his knees, causing him to wince. The cold barrel of the ex-pirate's weapon remained unmoved, pressing even harder against his temple.

"Now listen here, Scallywag. She's part of my crew and she won't be going anywhere with you, or anyone else incapable of showing her the respect she deserves. Do you understand?”

Your father nodded frenetically, casting one last repulsed look at you, before being hurled like garbage towards the entrance.

“Now pay and get the hell out of here.”

Your father had so much he wanted to articulate. You could see the resistence, the way his lips moved to form words but closed again. Eventually, he simply pulled himself up, brushed down his jacket, and stormed out of the kitchen with his pride in tatters.

Your mother heaved a sigh of relief, but contrary to your expectations, she didn't promptly follow him. She twirled her fingers, toyed with her purse, and gnawed on her lower lip anxiously.

When she looked at you, she seemed completely drained, hollow and dissatisfied.

"Y/N, for what it's worth, I... I regret that it had to come to this.”

She had never once stood up for you since the day you were born, always adhering to your father's dictates, punishments, and mentality. No matter what she had to say, regardless of any apology, you had no intention of hearing another word.

"Zeff has told you to get out," you declared frostily, regarding her with a mixture of loathing and indifference.

She stammered, her eyes brimming with tears, before muttering more sentiments that you had no desire to take in.

"I-I.... I understand that you're upset. Your father can overreact sometimes, you know how he is," she chuckled nervously. "But, you see, everything he's done.... i-it was for your own good.”

For your own good.

If you had believed that nothing could provoke you more than your father's deeds or utterances, you now realized there was no ceiling to the bitterness you could experience.

The vitriol welling on your tongue was scorching, burning you from the inside. “GET OUT!!!”

Your own voice was unrecognizable to you as you released a scream so intense that it made your mother recoil, panting with her hand over her chest. Sanji strengthened his hold on your wrist and softly stroked the back of your neck several times, helping to soothe your tension and prompting you to let go of the ceramic shard that was clearly inflicting damage on your skin.

In a flash, she was gone, the clacking of her heels against the floor fading as she scurried away, the kitchen doors swaying back and forth until they finally settled.

Deep inside, the wounds you believed were finally starting to mend had been savagely torn open again. Your parents had left, the ordeal was over, you were safe and sound. And yet, you could feel that familiar, ominous shadow enveloping you.

How were you supposed to face your colleagues now, feeling their eyes on you as if you were a pitiful, helpless child?

Sanji's fingers interlaced with yours, and the fragment of the broken plate finally dropped, uniting with the rest on the tiled floor below. Upon examining your palm, you noticed a long, horizontal laceration that was bleeding quite profusely, but it didn't appear especially severe. Truthfully, you couldn't even feel it.

Zeff exhaled in annoyance, but his displeasure wasn't aimed at you in the slightest. He placed a hand on your shoulder, studying your face as you strived to revive the vitality in your body, and signalled Sanji to guide you out and attend to your injury.

"Everyone back to work," he ordered. "Now's not the time to slack off.”

Patty turned away, his expression etched with sorrow for what he had just witnessed, while the rest of the crew silently resumed their duties, the room falling in a disquieting silence.

"Follow me, sweetheart,” Sanji voiced softly, doing his utmost to prevent you from spiraling into a well of self-pity.

Regrettably, it was already too late for that.

"The floor is stained," you observed, looking at the red droplets that had seeped from your cut.

"Are you seriously worrying about that now?" Zeff asked, a note of amusement creeping into his question.

"It is my fault. Let me just clean that up first-”

"No, no, no. Go with Little Eggplant and attend to your hand. That's an order.”

His eyes mirrored the depth of the sprawling sea, and the smile unfurling beneath his mustache was so sincere it stirred a flurry of emotions within your heart.

The people in the dining area had picked up their conversations, engaging in chatter and enjoying their meals without any disruptions. Your breathing was unsteady, and your legs felt as wobbly as jelly the moment you made your way upstairs to Sanji's cabin. He rummaged through a wooden box, pulling out a strip of gauze and a bottle of disinfectant, signaling for you to take a seat on his bed.

You wondered if he had ever cut or burned himself while cooking over the years, but given the flawless state of his hands, you surmised that he kept these items purely as a precaution now.

"I'm sorry," you blurted out, watching him attentively clean your wound and wind the soft fabric around your hand.

“What for? You haven't done anything wrong.”

“I thought I had finally escaped that mess. But it seems you can never truly outrun your past.” Your eyes clamped shut in defeat, forcing back the impending tears. "I didn’t mean to cause you so much trouble.”

"You didn’t cause any trouble, my dear.”

The fact he constantly supported you, safeguarding you from all the adverse impacts your family and ex had imposed on their restaurant, was both comforting and unsettling. Although you weren't directly liable for those public disruptions, simply being connected to them was enough to burden you with a feeling of responsibility.

"They came here because of me. Because of my actions back home,” you surmised.

"And what did you do, aside from liberating yourself from that oppressive shitbag?”

For a moment, you had to suppress a laugh at Sanji's blunt insult. He was so infuriated, so profoundly impacted as though the criticisms were personally directed at him.

Clearing his throat, he quickly corrected himself, "My apologies. I shouldn’t say that.”

"It’s fine. He is a shitbag through and through.”

Sanji's shoulders sagged, and his eyebrows furrowed together. "I couldn't bear the way he was badmouthing you.”

You responded with a shrug. "I'm used to it. I just wished this was a bygone tale, you know.”

Now that your palm was duly treated and bandaged, you could feel the sting as your skin tugged and brushed against the fabric.

“Trust me, love. I know.”

The way he said it, so honestly and with a melancholic smile that starkly contrasted his usual positivity and radiance, suggested that he, too, bore a substantial burden from his past experiences that he wrestled with each passing day.

Your friends often marveled at the fact that you turned out to be a sheer miracle, considering the harsh treatment you were subjected to since childhood, describing you as the rarest of gems. But now, you realized that you weren’t the only one, because Sanji was equally wondrous and dazzling, a beautiful flower blooming in the harshest of terrains.

You were like two kindred spirits, encountering each other amidst the storm you were fleeing from, as he waited for you with an outstretched hand in the rainbow.

Or at least, you preferred to perceive it that way, even if it might just be your mind concocting vivid notions of something that wasn't actually there.

With Sanji holding your hand, tenderly caressing your cheekbone, and allowing his forehead to graze against yours, you found yourself wishing you could push everything else out of your mind. His nearness was incredibly intense, and when his lips unintentionally ended up a tad too close, barely parting as if inviting you in, your heart raced uncontrollably.

Mari's words echoed in your head, and for a fleeting moment, you almost lost control and succumbed to the urge to kiss him. But despite the powerful longing that rocked you to your core, irrespective of how alluring his lips seemed, and how his breath vitalized you, you ultimately concluded that the timing was not right. You were in a vulnerable state, seeking solace and reinforcement. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel pressured, and for you to leverage your vulnerabilities as a crutch for such a significant step.

You didn't approach the act of kissing a man lightly. You were aware it was a bit cliché and overly romantic, but you always relied on that perfect instant to show up; the one that would send your stomach into a flutter of butterflies and fill your chest with a refreshing sense of peace.

And so, in spite of everything your body was suggesting, you disengaged from him.

Sanji appeared disheartened when you withdrew your hand and sat up straight, effectively creating distance from his face. Nevertheless, his smile promptly returned, leading you to hastily assume that you had merely imagined it.

"I think I understand where your chivalry comes from," you stated, lightly running your fingers over the bandage. "Zeff has his unique methods of imparting lessons, but when it involves me, or women in general, he transforms into a completely different person.”

"Yeah," he replied, chuckling. "He's the kind of man who views any form of disrespect towards women as a violation of a rule that exists since the age of dinosaurs.”

"That's quite a long way back," you said with a laugh.

"Well, he does make a valid point.”

During your tenure at the Baratie, you had the opportunity to understand Zeff on a more personal level. You could distinctly see why Mari held him in such high regard and deemed him worthy of her admiration.

"I'm glad you two found each other," you shared with him gently.

“Eh. He’s a piece of work,” he stated, pulling a face.

"But despite that, you still care about him, right?”

You couldn't resist planting a gentle kiss on his cheek, a move he hadn't expected, causing him to gaze at you with wide-eyed surprise.

"Come on," you urged him, rising to your feet and clasping his hand in your uninjured one. "Let's go back.”

He felt the need to protest, to remind you that you were meant to take the rest of the day off to avoid the risk of your wound reopening, but your determination was all it took to make him sigh and crack another grin.

After all, he had truly come to know you, witnessing firsthand your unwavering dedication and acknowledging your inherent need to remain engaged to forestall your thoughts from drifting.

As you made your way back, traversing the hallways and descending the stairs, his fingers tenderly held your hand, giving it a light squeeze and rendering the act of letting go a daunting challenge.

The rest of your shift progressed relatively peacefully and wasn't excessively demanding. Because of your injured hand, you kept yourself away from the sink to avoid any water contact. Patty had kindly suggested that you help him during meal preparations, an offer you readily accepted as it offered a welcome diversion and helped you reclaim your ease in the kitchen following the unfortunate incident with your father.

Much to your relief, everyone seemed unfazed. They treated you with kindness and without any awkwardness, all signs of tension having completely dissipated. Your gratitude couldn't have been greater, for you were truly working in the best place in the world.

If all that had occurred just a few weeks earlier, you would have spent the following hours weeping your eyes out, curled up into a ball on your bed. Now, despite the pain you still harbored within, with your father's words resonating in your mind, you were exhibiting the broadest smiles, the most sgenuine laughs, and the most robust energy. Your hand was somewhat of a hindrance, and Sanji frequently checked the condition of your bandage to ensure the injury hadn't begun to bleed again. But despite the bothersome burning sensation it sent through your palm, you refused to cease.

You did your utmost just like any other day, and before you even knew it, night had descended.

The warm, golden illumination from the kitchen lamps cast a homely glow over the stainless steel countertops and shiny cookware. The air was still imbued with the lingering scents of the evening's culinary delights, and the usually bustling ambience with the noises of sizzling pans and clattering dishes, was now more subdued, save for the occasional soft hum of the refrigeration units.

One by one, the team members left to retire in their cabins, and Patty had finally permitted himself a moment of relaxation by enjoying some beer at the farthest table in the room. Sanji was cleaning the last stack of dishes on your behalf, while you meticulously scrubbed and shined the counters around. Fatigue was starting to set in, both emotionally and physically, but you pushed it aside by stifling a yawn.

Once you were done, you assembled the waste and secured the bag's top with a knot. Upon glancing at the wooden countertop near the sink, you spotted an untouched plate, brimming with fresh food and nestled into a corner.

"And this?" You questioned in bewilderment, admiring the beautiful presentation in front of you. "What’s it doing here?”

Sanji took a look over his shoulder, a small grin appearing on his lips as he continued to rinse the dishes. "Oh, that," he said, his voice casual but with a trace of something more. "I was experimenting earlier.”

You moved closer, your gaze still fixed on the plate. "It looks amazing. What's in it?”

Sanji wiped his hands on a towel and turned to face you, leaning nonchalantly against the counter. "Seared tuna with a citrus glaze and ginger, some fresh herbs and a dash of spice. Thought I’d try something different tonight.”

You looked up at him, your eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Why is this here? Aren't you going to eat it?”

"It's not intended for me, beautiful. I prepared it for you," came the response.

"For me...?”

"You didn't eat much today, did you?"

Caught between your job and the disconcerting run-in with your brutish father, you could hardly proclaim any semblance of hunger. Your stomach had constricted, grudgingly permitting the ingestion of mere bread and seasoned croutons, as it rejected anything more substantial, deeming it too difficult to digest.

"I suppose not," you responded. "But, with all the work you had to handle, you really didn't have to go out of your way to cook for me.”

"Eh, it's nothing complex. I didn't want you to go to sleep on an empty stomach.”

The more you endeavored to maintain a friendly, professional attitude, the more he did things that made you want to abandon all restraint. How could he be so thoughtful, so kind-hearted, so incredibly sweet?

“Well then. Mind if I try it?”

Sanji’s grin broadened, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Be my guest.”

You picked up a fork, took a modest bite, and without any formalities, brought it to your lips, savoring the fusion of flavors with a newfound curiosity. The combination of spices, the juicy fish, and the refreshing citrus creating a delightful harmony, sparked a genuine explosion on your tongue and taste buds.

Each meal he prepared was unique, every dish distinctive and never repetitive. His culinary creativity was formidable, with every utensil serving as a brush, crafting edible masterpieces on the impromptu canvases of pots and plates.

You were genuinely rendered speechless. "Wow. Sanji, this is incredible.”

Sanji observed you with a gentle, fond gaze. "I’m glad you like it. After all, I had a special someone in mind.”

How could he say that so effortlessly, so spontaneously, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world? A blush tinted your cheeks at his words as you set the fork down. The atmosphere around you seemed to heat up, filled with a silent tension that sent an electric charge from your head down to your toes.

"A special someone, huh?”

Sanji edged a bit closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Yeah. Someone who deserves nothing less than the absolute best.”

Just as the situation was about to surge into high emotional territory, Patty’s complaint shattered the forming enchantment. "Hey, lovebirds, save it for after hours. I'm trying to enjoy my beer in peace.”

Sanji chuckled, shifting his eyes to take a quick look at Patty. "Don’t be jealous, man.”

Biting your lower lip, you kept staring at the food he had prepared, unable to slow down your heart which, in the meantime, had gone completely wild. The tacit bond between you seemed to rekindle, hinting at a promise of something more waiting to be unraveled. You could sense the heat radiating from his body, his arm grazing yours in a subtle contact, his eyes perusing you with a smile that was utterly irresistible.

Patty, perceptive of the change in the atmosphere, finished off his beer and rose with a grunt. He quietly maneuvered to where you and Sanji were standing, swiftly taking hold of the trash bag you were about to dispose of and heading towards the entrace.

"I'll handle this. You two, just refrain from doing anything Zeff wouldn't approve of.”

With that, he took his leave, thrusting the doors open and retreating from your presence with lightning speed.

Making him uncomfortable was the last thing you wanted, and now that you found yourself alone with Sanji, enveloped in the silence of the vacant space, you let out a timid giggle. "I'm afraid we made him feel like a third wheel.”

Sanji exhaled contentedly. "He'll survive.”

As you turned to look at him again, confident enough to withstand his charm without surrendering your self-control, you noticed the depth of his attention on you. All your resolve wavered in front of it, for all his blue eyes did was soften the barriers you had built around yourself.

"Thank you for making this for me,” you told him. "You're truly talented. But I believe I've mentioned that many times already.”

His sheepishness resurfaced, a facet he didn't reveal very often, but it showcased his inherent gentleness. "It’s never enough when it comes from you.”

Your joy was irrepressible, and as your conversation continued with playful banter and flirtatious jabs, you eagerly polished off the remainder of his meal, even finding yourself wishing for more.

You could hear the music from the lounge area gradually fading, the remaining customers taking their leave amidst hushed conversations. You fell into absolute silence as Sanji cleared away your plate, trying to avoid paying excessive attention to the way his muscles flexed, and to the subtle wave-like movement of his covered shoulder blades.

Straightening up and unbuttoning your white jacket, you kneaded your tense neck and let out a weary sigh. The day had been bustling and somewhat chaotic with all the incidents, and there was only so much you could do to fight off the fatigue now.

"Quite a long day, right?”

You responded with a nod. "The longest one yet.”

"I'm almost done here. Go get some sleep, my lovely. You need it.”

In the span of several weeks, there was no denying that your connection with Sanji had intensified. Your interactions and mutual esteem had sculpted a relationship that was both energizing and empowering. A silent attraction perpetually lingered between you, a magnetic allure that both of you were keenly aware of, yet hadn't outwardly acknowledged.

Even then, you could sense his anticipation for something more, something deeper, and that made the simple act of turning around to leave particularly arduous.

He stood by the counter, his typical confident smile gracing his lips, but his eyes revealed a hint of uncertainty, as though he was dipping his toes into the depths of something much more profound. You stood still, your thoughts whirling.

Each passing second elongated into an eternity as you weighed your options. You might have been terribly mistaken, but you thought you saw hope, a silent plea for you to close the distance that separated you.

Your moment of indecision was brief before determination took hold. It's not the right time, you continually reminded yourself. Not today... perhaps not ever.

Feeling defeated, you swallowed hard and reluctantly took a step back. "See you tomorrow.”

This time, Sanji appeared genuinely bewildered, disappointed, evidently expecting a different result. A few moments later, the corners of his lips curled up, but they lacked their usual magic. "Goodnight, Y/N.”

Had it all been a figment of your imagination? Were you interpreting expressions and reactions that, in reality, never truly existed?

As you walked away, a stubborn lump formed in your throat, steadfastly refusing to be swallowed down. With shaky hands, you reached for the doors, your focus landed over the bandage that Sanji had meticulously wrapped around your injury. Since the day you first showed up at the Baratie, he had performed a multitude of remarkable acts for you. He had protected you from Christopher, cooked you the most delectable meals, expressed worry for your wellbeing, and even faced your father without any reservations. And what had you given in return? Merely offered him your friendship? Tossed him occasional compliments?

If anything, it seemed like you primarily took him for granted, relying on him as your support system at the Baratie as soon as you were hired. You knew he would always be there to back you up and you took advantage of that, using it all to your benefit. He even consented to share his past, laden with tormenting memories that he would rather consign to oblivion and never dredge up again.

“Whatever you and Sanji share at this moment, it's unique for you and likely for him too. Even if you're not destined to end up together, even if you remain just friends or mere coworkers, why would you want to miss out on the chance of experiencing happiness, even if it's only for one night?”

Mari was right. Why were you so adamant about not making the first move? Sanji respected you too much to impose his emotions, or whatever they might be, upon you. And you would never find the 'right moment' because, in reality, you didn’t truly want to. You were scared, absolutely terrified, and had deliberately cocooned yourself in a shell that was now riddled with cracks.

That barrier needed to be dismantled. Permanently.

"Are you okay? Did you forget something?" he inquired, observing you rooted to the spot.

Swiveling on your heels, you turned to face him once more, a slow smile spreading across your face. It was a smile of relief, realization, passion, and love.

"Yes, I did."

Each stride you made towards him felt intentional, the distance between you slowly dwindling until you were just inches apart. Sanji's breath hitched, his usual calm demeanor faltering as he watched you approach.

Quietly, you raised your hands, gently but securely cupping his face. The entire restaurant seemed to shrink down to just the two of you, with the background noise vanishing completely. You could feel the increasing warmth of his skin, the slight roughness of his shaved stubble beneath your fingertips. For a brief moment, you hesitated, your gaze locking with his, searching for any sign of resistance.

There was none.

With a decisive tilt of your head, you finally pressed your lips onto his, initiating a kiss that was vibrant with energy, overflowing with all the feelings you'd held back for so long. It was a kiss of yearning, of unspoken words and unmet desires, the culmination of the undercurrent that had been building between you for weeks.

Sanji’s initial shock dissipated almost immediately, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer as he intensified the kiss. His movements were gentle, filled with careful consideration, afraid of causing you any discomfort. Yet, there also was an active fire, a fervor that ignited the moment and set it ablaze.

When you pulled apart, both of you were almost breathless, with your foreheads leaning against each other. You placed your hands on his chest, smiling and chortling, which he echoed, before his warm fingers mirrored your action and softly held the sides of your face. He leaned in to press his lips against yours again, his mouth moving eagerly against your own. Your tongues met, a bit timidly at first, then intertwined in a deeply sensuous dance.

He tasted of fresh spices, the familiar tang of citrus, sea salt and ocean breeze. There was also a rich undertone of wine, and a hint of tobacco mingling in.

Without breaking away from the kiss, his arms descended and wrapped around you, while your own reached up to encircle his neck. It was unforgettable, tantalizing, and as passionate as everything else he did.

That night, you had surrendered to the best decision you could ever make, breaking the promise you had made to Zeff.

You could only hope that he wouldn't choose to walk into the kitchen at that moment, as separating from Sanji's lips and embrace was something you couldn't imagine enduring.

Final note: SMUT is definitely coming in the next chapter! 🔥

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