#SoulmateAU Zosan fanfiction (available on AO3 here)
In a world where almost half the population had a soulmate tattoo, Sanji shouldn't have been surprised to see a mark on every one of his nakamas. The black heart on the back of Luffy's right hand was one of the most discreet tattoos he'd ever seen. He much preferred, however, the delicate blue feather on his beloved Nami's forearm. He had noticed all of this without really broaching the subject. Events with Krieg had not allowed them to dwell on such details... But when he had finally embarked with the little crew of the strawhat... He knew that the marks of their destinies would be evoked. The subject always came up when it was obvious that everyone around the table had a soulmate, somewhere in this world. When the fateful question fell, he'd answered what he'd always believed, despite the phantom sensation between his shoulder blades...
"I don't have a soul mate."
It was a poor lie, one he'd adopted from an early age... If his mother, such a gentle mother, had taught him with tenderness that the mark that adorned his back was a blessing... His father's words had had far more impact.
"No one will ever want you. You're worthless."
"You don't deserve this."
No, he probably didn't deserve to live next to his other half. Even if he had to admit bitterly that fate had decided otherwise through no fault of his own. At first, he hadn't really paid attention. He hadn't made the connection... In fact, part of him had sunk into a latent denial that prevented him from realizing what was right under his nose. But one evening, he had to face the facts... The sword had been placed delicately against a wall while its owner sipped a glass of sake. Out of the corner of his eye, Sanji had watched the blade and inhaled with a certain lack of confidence. Unwittingly, he felt his hand reach for the hilt of the sword. His fingers brushed the familiar black patterns on a white background... Heart pounding, he felt a strange wave run through him as his back suddenly itched. The white sword at the center of his shoulder blades was nauseatingly similar. He decided with a wave of his hand that it could only be a coincidence. But that hadn't counted his luck...
A few snacks on a tray after perfect service to his beloved Nami, Sanji had instinctively made his way to the idiot swordsman. Just because he was stupidly insufferable didn't mean he couldn't be fed. What he hadn't counted on, however, was a sight far too upsetting for his taste. Working out in the warm sunshine, Zoro had shamelessly removed his top and lifted his weights, leaving his half-naked body for all to see. While he'd been spared his first thoughts of the all-too-imposing bulging muscles, he couldn't help but notice that terrible spot of color... A saturated, dark blue... A coelacanth sat at the base of Zoro's loins. As rare and unique as the sea... As intriguing as it was frightening. Forgetting to breathe, Sanji seemed to pale for a moment as the marimo's attention turned to him.
His gaze met his rival's, who was breathing softly after an effort. He saw only curiosity mixed with the slightest hint of annoyance until he seemed to notice what Sanji was wearing. The bold man grinned, putting down his weights. He had recognized the particular shape of the onigiris waiting patiently on their tray. Coming to his senses, the chef simply set down the snacks next to the swordsman and left without a word. The doubts he'd managed to bury suddenly rose to the surface and nearly suffocated him. He was no fool... He was carrying Wado on his back... And Zoro was carrying one of the rarest creatures in the oceans...
Barely whispered, he hadn't recognized his trembling voice as he locked himself in his kitchen to regain control over his train of thought. A scar on the back is a swordsman's shame. How ironic. It had taken the representation of his entire being to betray the swordsman's trust before they'd even met. This mark, this location was proof that he didn't deserve Zoro. That he didn't deserve to exist... He was a mere plague, a stain on the immaculate back of a courageous swordsman, far from a coward. He was neither his equal, nor what that idiot marimo deserved.
Of course, the subject had not failed to come up again for the umpteenth evening over a good meal he'd worked hard to make for all his nakamas.
"That's a funny fish on your back, Zoro," Luffy had said, leaning towards the swarthy swordsman's skin.
"It's true I've never seen such a specimen. It's... peculiar."
Nami's words had caused Zoro to roll his eyes as he sipped his glass of sake. Sanji squinted and smacked his skull to avoid showing disrespect to his princess. Words were exchanged, the tone rising under the general exasperation and laughter of their captain. This had helped change the subject, but Sanji was always short of luck when it came to this sort of thing... And that idiot marimo hadn't missed a beat.
"I don't give a damn about the fish. It's just a silly tattoo."
Sanji's heart had clenched in spite of himself as he inhaled a puff of his cigarette. The rest of the evening had been quiet, and it was back in his kitchen to clean up that he felt himself getting heavier. Zoro was a man of action, a man of proof and determination. He wasn't one to let the world decide for him... So it was obvious that he attached no importance to evidences that a destiny was in reserve for him. He had decided long ago that he would be the best swordsman in the world... Just as Luffy would be king of the pirates. And as surprising as it was, Sanji believed in them. He knew they would become the best... As much as he believed that one day he'd find All Blue. Whether this was naivety or stubbornness, it didn't matter. It was a certainty, that's all. A far more beautiful certainty than the universal offer of a soulmate... At least, he was trying to convince himself.
Hiding his mark wasn't all that complicated for the cook. He wore suits all the time and bathed alone at the end of the day after his kitchen was perfectly tidy. What's more, his nakama didn't seem to question what he'd told them about his lack of a soul mate. No one made the connection for lack of knowledge... Until Robin joined the crew. The woman was beautiful, intelligent. And it was this that failed him for the umpteenth day.
"What a beautiful coelacanth you have there, Zoro-san."
Sanji had pursed his lips when he heard the young woman's words. In the end, this was hardly surprising, Robin was a great reader and an inexhaustible source of knowledge in her own.
"A coelacanth, a rare fish."
A true living fossil that lived in very few places. Who was the very representation of All blue... That Sanji was the only one to understand... Until now. Robin's intense, unspoken gaze landed on him. A shiver of anxiety ran through his body, but he had, by some miracle, managed not to panic. He trusted the young woman... She would keep silent, no matter what she thought she knew or didn't know. He knew it... He believed it. He hoped so.
It was during yet another quiet, warm evening that Sanji's gaze fell once more on Wado. He had learned her name some time ago, but had never mentioned it or questioned the swordsman. Not for lack of trying. But he'd never had the chance... Or at least, taken it. Tonight was nothing special, but he couldn't help asking in a low, uncertain voice.
"Where did she come from...?"
If Zoro had been surprised by the question, he hadn't let on, simply resting his gaze on the cook. The swordsman remained silent for some time, until Sanji thought he hadn't said the words out loud after all. Zoro was not a talkative man. Least of all about his past... Least of all with himself. Just as he was about to turn away, his stomach twisted with disappointment, the marimo answered softly.
"It was my first soulmate's weapon."
The revelation hit Sanji in the stomach. Zoro had used a term that was far from harmless. He who had been clear up to now, proclaiming that he didn't believe in universal destiny but in his own decisions...
He couldn't help asking, his voice surprisingly calm even though he felt his whole body shaking discreetly.
"Yeah. I know what the tattoo on my back means and the fact that you all believe it, but... Kuina was my soul mate no matter what the world has to say."
A new burden weighed down his gut. How could he compete with the memory of a dead woman...? How could he compete with yet another swordswoman who, to be sure, had all the esteem in the world Zoro could muster for anyone...? His face must have betrayed some thought, Zoro sighing as he rolled his eyes.
"I don't need your condolences, I mourned long ago."
But the cook couldn't manage to mourn his ironic fate... And cruel. It was too hard. Beyond the things he, a poor cook, didn't deserve, Zoro deserved so much. He deserved the love and rivalry of a young woman equal to him. He deserved the strength of an adversary as strong and courageous as him... Not a failure like himself. Not a coward who, from their first evidence of curiosity to get to know him better, had lied to his crew... To his nakamas, whom he now loved so dearly.
Thriller bark had been a pure nightmare. He would never forget that vision of horror. Zoro, standing in the middle of that pile of blood...
"Nothing happened", he had said.
Sanji hadn't believed it, but it hadn't mattered. What had terrified him wasn't the marimo's stupid sacrifice per se... No. What he hadn't been able to digest was his own cowardice, which could, after one last heartbeat, have become eternal. If Zoro had died... He would never have been able to rid himself of this latent guilt. Of the morbid silence he always kept about that white blade in his back. If this event had terrified him to the depths of his being, time had relegated it to the rank of a belated nightmare... An unforgettable memory. Everything had been bearable again. Until Kuma. The loss of every nakama had been unbearable. The sudden disappearance. The silence after the impact. Nothing could have prepared him for what fate had reserved for them. A destiny he had never questioned, despite his doubts and fears. A fate he had finally accepted after many long months. If he couldn't let go of his cowardice... He couldn't let go of this all too powerful feeling either. This love for his crew. For Zoro. For their dreams. That he considered himself weak was no longer truly important. What mattered was what the people around him on this particular island could give him. Strength. Technique. And perhaps, a little courage...
"You're not a cowardly man, Sanji. Don't let your demons convince you otherwise."
Ivankov had been a listening ear after he'd abandoned silence. Never had he imposed. Never yet had he reproached him for his actions. But his words, always straightforward, as sharp as the blades of his soul mate, struck him without fail.
"Perhaps there's a world out there where those patches of color embedded in our skin are just images for children. False promises made by a fate-maker with a sick sense of humor. But it's not ours, and you know it."
Yes, he knew. Today even more than yesterday. And tomorrow, probably even more than now. His silence had been a real burden from the start. More than he cared to admit. It had been a personal battle into which he had thrown himself body and soul. Investing his energy in lies, fear and cowardice. Luffy, his Nakamas... let alone his other half, Zoro, didn't deserve his behavior. He knew he was weak, despite Ivankov's indispensable help. Despite Zeff and his benevolence hidden beneath his leg kicks. And if he didn't deserve the love of his crew. From that idiot marimo... They deserved more than his dishonesty. They deserved his dedication, his cooking, his love... They deserved the truth.
From the corner of his now one and only eye, Zoro gazed at the cook with perplexity. He wasn't going to question his words, understanding the latent lie that had persisted over time. He simply accepted the confession under the starry sky of a calm night and mistakenly thought that would be all. Yet his silence seemed progressively inappropriate. He knew Sanji was romantic. Perhaps he was stupidly insufferable towards women, but he knew how to read beyond that. He wasn't stupid. He knew the cook. He'd learned with time, with virulent exchanges and kicks. He hadn't ignored the insistent glances when he didn't think he was being seen. He'd simply chalked them up to a particular eccentricity. He'd accepted the silences, the strange unspoken words he sometimes couldn't shake off. Zoro wasn't stupid, no. So he understood from Sanji's slumped shoulders and pale gaze that his silence would only hurt.
The answer came as no surprise, but the tone was far more so. Sanji sounded devastated. Confused. Resigned. It was a mixture of ridiculous feelings that might have annoyed him if he hadn't had so much patience after two years away from his nakamas.
"I don't think he likes me."
He caught the laughing sigh Sanji let out. There was nothing funny about it though. But he couldn't help it. Sanji was a lady's man. So he had every right to be surprised to discover that the second half the world had decided to give Sanji was a man. Ironic. Even a little cruel. This was why he couldn't stand the idea of destiny itself... He felt trapped and hated having his free will taken away from him. Not to mention the terrible mistake the world had made in giving him a so-called soulmate who wasn't Kuina. He had chosen and preferred to live with the death of one of his halves on his conscience. It was simpler, truer.
"And you, do you love him?"
The obvious question seemed to surprise the cook, who smiled ruefully.
For a moment, he thought his answer would make Sanji explode, who suddenly stared at him with annoyance and confusion.
"Yeah. Who can say they don't know how to love, eh ? You love him, that's good. Destiny or not, you feel something and that's all that matters."
This time, the cook seemed bewildered by his words. Perhaps he had been too frank, but if he knew Sanji to be sensitive, he also knew him to be strong and mature enough to bear his answers. This was what he had always appreciated in him. Beyond the nauseating but tender words towards women, beyond the cries against his person, Sanji was a powerful man who could be counted on. In battle and at sea. As cook and rival. He was his equal, his nakama. He loved him, in his own way. All the more reason why he didn't mince his words.
Sanji didn't reply and seemed content to leave the swordsman's living space, shaken. Zoro didn't know if the conversation had ended positively, but he trusted his words. The cook deserved to love far more than he deserved to be loved. The ability to love others was not something trivial. It was something powerful and important. Zoro didn't usually let on, but he considered love a pillar in his life. He had loved Kuina and still did. It was this bond, this deep love, that guided him on his path to excellence. Love was a source of motivation above all sources of worry. Protecting his nakamas didn't require so much effort, because it was now inscribed in him. It was an obviousness that glided over him and enabled him to slice through the air with his blades.
It was what had enabled him to survive Mihawk's training. The distance. While he knew that most of his crew hadn't endured the seperation, he wasn't outdone. Silent nights gazing up at the starry sky, the last thing he shared with his nakamas, had sometimes been hard to bear. He'd been the first to come back to life when he felt Luffy's familiar arms wrap around him in loyal enthusiasm for his captain. He'd been the first to smile defiantly when he saw the cook's indescribable gaze land on him, on his newly scarred body, on his now missing eye. He had seen the pain... Relief in that azure-blue gaze. He'd been proud of it without really paying attention.
But Sanji didn't seem to share his vision of things. His gazes were vague, barely curious, full of desperate melancholy. He'd stopped counting them after a few weeks, but couldn't resign himself to ignoring them. With each passing day, the cook seemed to become an increasingly complex enigma. He found it hard to grasp some of his gestures, which were too disinterested to be real. Some of his looks, some of his words. He didn't know what had prompted Sanji to make this confession about his soulmate. He wouldn't complain, content in the knowledge that the cook had enough confidence in him to confess something that didn't really concern him... But which, somewhere, must have been important to this idiot romantic.
"I have a soul mate and i don't want to talk about it."
Everyone around the table had had a particular reaction to the sudden confession. Luffy had simply stopped eating, with a curious look on his face. Nami raised her eyebrows. Usopp, discreet as ever, found himself with his mouth wide open. Chopper had swallowed his glass of water noisily, then made himself very small. Brook hadn't had a chance to show his emotions through his skeleton, but his head turned entirely towards the cook meant enough. Franky, too, had opened his mouth in surprise, his eyes full of emotion, probably happy and confused for Sanji. Robin had been the only one who hadn't seemed surprised, and this had annoyed him to no end. Had Sanji confided in the woman before him ? Beyond that, why had he, perhaps the only one, been taken into his confidence long before the rest of the crew ? He would have thought that if anyone should have been told, it would have been their captain.
If a multitude of questions hung in the air, Luffy was the one who decided to spare his cook by begging for more food. The rest of the meal was dynamic as usual, thanks to the enthusiasm of their idiot but loyal captain. This left Zoro deep in thought. He hadn't pushed his vague curiosity, but had to admit the absurdity of the situation. Sanji, probably the most ecoeurously romantic man he knew, didn't want to talk about the second half the world had reserved for him. He knew that the cook was in love, and if he knew nothing about the poor chosen one in question, he wondered why Sanji was still lonely. Insufferable as he was, he was still a strong, capable, multi-talented man with, he had to admit, the face of an angel. Even his eyebrows had a certain charm. So, once again, he asked himself... What was the problem ?
That evening, as he gazed out over the calm sea, his hand on Wado's pommel, Zoro felt a strange wave of emotion wash over him... As his back radiated warmth.
Despite all the injuries he'd sustained over time and despite Chopper's intrusive and obligatory good care, Sanji had managed to keep his back a secret until now. No one knew, no one had any real proof beyond improbable suspicions. Obviously, since their return to their boat, since the separation, the bonds between each member of the crew had grown stronger. The slightest injury was painstakingly taken seriously, and the slightest health doubt drove their poor doctor mad. The latter had become intransigent... He exuded a childlike strength that was beyond question. So it came as no surprise that he was the first to discover the white blade embellishing the pallor of his back. The little reindeer had breathed in his surprise and only had to observe the tattoo for a brief moment before raising his emotion-filled gaze to the cook. Sanji had sighed, his gaze tender and sorry. No words had been exchanged, Chopper respecting his wish to remain silent. He had been very grateful... And thought again of his devotion as he grasped that dangerous blade out of the corner of his eye.
Chopper was in danger. He had seen the assailant slice through the air towards his nakama. The latter had no room to maneuver, no instincts to awaken, clueless of the situation. He didn't see the ennemy. He didn't see the look of panic on Sanji's face as he realized the vision of death he was about to witness. Chopper's name escaped his tense lips, his voice breaking in a terrifying echo. He was afraid of not being fast enough. He was afraid of death. Not his own, but that of one of his nakamas. Nakamas he loved. Whom he had a duty to protect. Phantom tears formed at the corners of his eyes as he lunged forward in an uncontrollable rush. He wouldn't make it.
The familiar voice rolling around his rarely uttered first name made him shudder with apprehension and satisfaction. A quick glance in the direction of the swordman told him what was about to happen. His body moved instinctively as he caught the glint of Wado reflecting the sky. His hands, immaculate, scarless, rose until he felt an electric shiver run down his fingers. Wado's handle took its place between his hands as his muscles tensed in action. Instinctively, without a thought, Sanji blocked the attacking blade and sent it waltzing back with a distorted metallic sound. A wave of what he thought was adrenalin coursed through his body as his back burned. Wado radiated between his fingers, imposing an invisible pressure that made him take a step back, taking his place... Back to back with his soulmate who had joined him.
His body trembling and his breath short, he felt all the energy of the sword in his hand. Of the heavy significance of this loan... Of the abrupt, indisputable trust that Zoro had shared with him by throwing him the last testimonial of his first soulmate. Of Kuina. Of his dreams.
"You knew..." he said in a trembling voice.
He hoped..? How could he hope for such a thing? Who was he to deserve such hope? Zoro didn't deserve a failure like him. He didn't deserve to settle for a poor cook like him...! It was ridiculous.
"Show me" he'd told him in a confident voice once the fight was over.
Zoro's gaze, intense and far too calm, pierced him as his body lost all composure. He felt his outstretched arms gradually fall, Wado still in hand. In a slow, timeless gesture, he gradually turned around... Giving his back to Zoro. The swordman accepted the offer without a word, the sound of a blade slicing through the air reaching his ears. With a simple, masterful gesture, he had cut away the shirt that obstructed his view. Soon, the white reflection of his sword of life was offered to him. Wado Ichimonji, enthroned between Sanji's shoulder blades. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't felt the call of his best blade. If he hadn't understood the ease with which the cook had held it in his hands. Let her not consider him her only master... She hadn't been mistaken. She'd recognized his other half... His soul mate.
"You didn't say anything."
It wasn't a question, a simple remark without animosity or reproach. Yet Zoro had every reason to be angry with him. He wished he'd yelled at him, that he'd tried to cut off every last strand of his hair... But the swordman was awfully calm, his arms resting on the boat's railing. The day, tiring and too hot for his liking, was gradually cooling off as the sun set. The last rays were reaching them, reflecting nicely on Zoro's golden earrings. They had instinctively found themselves side by side, unable to say a word for many minutes. Sanji was afraid. He didn't dare say anything... Didn't dare imagine anything. After all, he deserved nothing. None of what Zoro's intense gaze forced upon him when it landed on him.
"You already had a soulmate." he murmured.
"You deserved better." he added.
"I couldn't replace her," he admitted.
His voice was sharp, his eyes crinkled with displeasure.
"Who are you to decide what I deserve ? Who are you to denigrate my second half soul hm ? Are you an idiot ?"
Sanji was about to retort, confused, but Zoro wouldn't let him.
"I don't know where you're getting all this merit bullshit from, but damn it, cook. Sanji. Of course I deserve you. Of course I hoped. I'm not an idiot and you know it! That fish there. On my back."
"On your back, Zoro. An indelible mark spoiling the immaculateness of your swordman's back. A scar in the back is a swordman sh-"
"This fish is not a scar ! This fucking fish is you !"
"And I'm ruining your back !"
"Of course not! You own it ! You protect it ! With this fish, you're always with me. You have my back, literally ! You're my shadow, you complete me, cook. And not just for this soul-mate thing ! You've been doing it since we met. You've been doing it since the beginning. Without knowing. I can count on you. Everyone can count on you, okay, but me ? Yeah right. It's like you didn't see us fight against our enemies."
Sanji didn't know what to say. Zoro seemed to accept everything with ridiculous lightness. He felt miserable... Far from deserving of this trust, these deliciously painful compliments. Pulling himself up from the railing, the swordman turned to face Sanji, planting his gaze in his own.
"You love me, I know it. You can't fight it. And you won't because if you do, i swear to gods i don't believe in...! I will slice you in half to recover what's mine. You."
Tears rolled silently down his faces as Zoro raised his hands to his cheeks, a serious look on his face.
"I love you, you stupid cook. I will take you as you will take me. Because that's what it is. Destiny or not."
Deserved or not. He will take him. Because if he didn't believe in his luck, in this suddenly radiant destiny... He believed in Zoro. It was far enough. For now.
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