Katergator

Sanji allows himself a brief moment of humor at her reaction and snorts. “Are you sure you can handle this? That is barely the tip of the iceberg.”

“If he were still here I’d kill him myself.” Nami sets her jaw, ruminating on everything he said. “Wait a minute, did you say experiment? What do you mean by that?”

“My siblings are genetically enhanced. I was supposed to be too, but…” His throat closes up. “My… my mother drank some kind of toxin when she was pregnant with my brothers and me, trying to stop Judge’s experimentation. It seems that it only affected me.” Failure.

“One of the first tests I remember is they made us jump off a balcony. All my siblings could do it; it was at least a three story drop. You saw how tall those balconies are, I couldn’t, I—”

He remembers the light breeze that day, ruffling his hair and cooling the sweat on the back of his neck. His knees shake, the fear clenches his stomach, his heart races with terror. His brothers’ faces sneer up at him. The shame floods his chest and heats his cheeks when he approaches the bannister; if he attempts the same jump he will die. His father’s expectant face is upturned, waiting for him to follow the order, uncaring if serious injury or death will result. Disgust and loathing when he can’t follow through, completely ignoring his distressed cries. His knees scrape on the stone when his little legs give out, it’s just so high up, he can’t do it.

He didn’t care, he never did, if your tiny little human body was beat up, broken, abused, because it couldn’t do what it was designed to do. Worthless…

He feels Nami’s breath stutter in her chest. “He made children jump off those balconies? A normal child would die. Did he even know for certain when your siblings jumped?”

“I don’t think he cared. He made us swim vast distances in the ocean. I almost drowned. Running, fighting, strength, endurance, blood tests and lab results, all sorts of experiments… and I failed at every single one.” 

Nami clutches him and a tear streaks down his cheek. She runs her fingers along his bruises. “This isn’t the first time your brothers have done this to you, is it?”

“Your intuition is right on, as always,” he says wryly. The awful vacant look is still haunting his eyes. “It was one of their favorite hobbies.” 

Her hands clench against his back. “Didn’t anyone stop them? Your father just let them hurt you like that?”

“He didn’t give a shit about what happened to me. He usually just scolded me, that I was a weakling for not being able to fend them off.” 

“God…What, what about your mother, couldn’t she…?”

“We weren’t allowed to see her. She was sick in bed, she never really regained her health after the toxin. I didn’t listen and I’d visit her anyway, she… she was so kind,” his voice cracks. “I’d make food for her. I’ve always loved to cook, it was the one thing that made me happy. She’d always exclaim how good it tasted, even if it had been ruined on the way there. I thought I was helping. I just wanted her to get better.”

His voice gives out and he loses the battle with his emotions, but he’s comforted by the fact that Nami seems to have lost it with him. She knows his pain intimately. 

“She never got better.” He barely makes it through the statement without sobbing. “I couldn’t even, fucking grieve at her grave in peace. My father, and my brothers, they—” 

His breath hitches in his chest and he can’t finish, his face contorted in anguish. 

It was sunny that day. The flora at her grave smells so sweet, a soft breeze carrying their scent and rustling the grass. He remembers crying so hard he could barely see, the flowers becoming hazy pops of color in his blurred vision.

Then all he remembers is pain bursting in his side from a kick, blood trickling into his mouth from a split lip, his face hitting the ground and the grit of dirt in his mouth, sticking to the tear tracks on his cheeks. 

His father’s scorn. The same jeers and taunts as always gleefully spit over his head, repeated again and again, he will never be good enough. He failed all the experiments. He can’t defend himself. He couldn’t save her. 

He is so weak. Pathetic. Useless. 

“I’m so sorry, Sanji,” Nami sniffles. “I know exactly how you feel. Losing your mother, it’s…”

“I wish we didn’t have that in common. But I’m glad you’re here, and you understand,” he says kindly. She nods and squeezes him in support, giving him a few moments to recover. 

“Can I ask you about Reiju? She saved Luffy, you know.” She brushes a lock of hair sticking to his wet cheek off of his face. 

He scans his memory of all the events in the past few days, and can’t think of a moment where Reiju and Luffy interacted with each other. “She did?” 

“What I didn’t mention, is that Luffy ate the skin of a fish we caught because we were starving…an armored stonefish, I think—”

“No!” he groans. “If you don’t prepare it correctly it’s poisonous!”

“Exactly,” Nami says with a grimace. “We ran into your siblings’ ship. We saw one of your brothers on the deck. The one with green hair? We thought it was you until he took off his hood.” 

“Yonji.” He curls his lip at that. He never wants to be mistaken for one of them. 

“Reiju came onto the Sunny and literally sucked the poison out of him.”

He frowns at that visual. 

“Your brother was an asshole, no surprise there, but Reiju helped us. Was she awful to you in your childhood too, or?”

“Reiju received modifications like the rest of us, but she still possesses her emotions, unlike my brothers. Part of the enhancements they received was to remove their human emotions, so they can be perfect little killing machines with no morals. When in the company of my brothers, she played along with them, so they wouldn’t start abusing her too. She never hit me, though. When we were alone, she took care of me. She bandaged my wounds, brought me food and other things like cooking supplies and books to my cell and kept me company. She helped me escape.” 

“I’m glad that your sister was looking out for you. So…” she stops and ponders for a moment. “Your mother and Reiju, they were the only people who were kind to you?” 

He nods miserably. 

That explains a lot… literally all of his behavior is a trauma response. No wonder he gets so worked up about women. 

She thinks back to the things Judge said about him to Luffy, cruelly right in front of him, and the personality traits she’s observed about him:

The over-eagerness to please, to serve and be useful, his occasional irritability with their male crewmates or friends, desperately chasing after women and seeking their love and approval. But it’s very superficial, he never latches onto any woman for long. Granted they don’t stay in any one place for very long, but the only constant woman in his life is her. Well, and Robin of course, but there are things he does for her that he doesn’t do for Robin, like the love notes he sends with the constant stream of drinks and food, and the hyper vigilant way he protects her. Out of all the Straw Hats, he gravitates to her and Robin the most. Every single thing about him makes so much sense; it’s like she just opened a locked door that has stymied her for years.

All those times I’ve wondered why are you the way that you are…

She frowns, something is bothering her and it’s tickling the back of her mind, needing to be expanded on. “Wait a minute, hold up. Did you say cell? As in like, a prison cell?” 

He runs a hand down his face, and she gets the feeling he hadn’t meant to let that slip. The implication makes her stomach churn. How much worse could it be than what he has already shared? 

His breathing becomes labored and Nami checks his face. His eyes are closed and his expression is pinched. 

He hadn’t meant to speak about it, but his gratefulness for Reiju’s kindness distracted him from the mental triggers associated with it, and now she is questioning him and it is his fault he mentioned it like it was any other conversation topic, like he could be normal about it. 

I want my father! Please, don’t leave me down here alone! It’s so dark and scary, just please get my father! What did I do? What did I do wrong?!

He screams until his voice gives out, his throat sore and raw. He stays by the bars, where the only muted light source filters down from the stairs, terrified of the dark corners in the cell where he can’t see. The darkness plays tricks on his eyes and makes him think the corners hide frightening things, like he isn’t alone. The helmet obscures his vision and makes it worse, like something is going to sneak up on him from behind. 

He shudders and screeches when whispery legs creep along his arm and he startles and brushes them off in a panic. Something scuttles across his foot and he darts away, tears pouring down his face, mucus from his nose dripping into his mouth underneath the solid unforgiving metal encasing his head. It slides on his wet skin, a sensory nightmare made worse by all the crying, but he is too scared and unable to stop.  

He looses count of how many creepy things crawl on him, how many terrifying sounds clank and groan in the deep as he sits on high alert the entire night long. His nose rubs raw from all the snot and the metal pressing up against it, the wetness from his tears collecting inside and making his skin itch, but he can’t scratch it. 

When the panic attack happens, his nose is completely stuffed from crying and he feels like he can’t get enough air through the grates of the metal, which causes his panic to spike even higher. He tears at the helmet, trying to wrench it off, but it is no use. He huffs and paces like a caged tiger, crying out for help even though he knows no one will come. He isn’t sure how long the agony lasts; he doesn’t master the emotional regulation to calm himself down, but the panic only eventually subsides when his little body runs out of energy to keep up the hysterics. 

Then he lies listless on the floor, breathing raspy through the metal grates, too worn out to even brush away the things crawling on him. He supposes he fell asleep at some point, but it’s dreamless, because he’s already in the nightmare. 

Your father is the one who ordered us to put you down here, kid. 

His eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, and he truly is all alone. 

“Sanji? Are you alright? Hey,” Nami says, giving him a little shake. 

He shudders out a breath. “I’m fine.” 

“Again, that’s a total lie, but I’ll overlook it. Um… am I right though? About a cell? Can you explain what that means?” 

“Give me a minute.” He shakily breathes in and out deeply, feeling his lungs expand and there is nothing blocking his air flow. He fights off the looming panic threatening to attack, like a line of storm clouds on the horizon. He hasn’t had one in years, but now he’s opening up this cursed box, the one he fears the most, that he’s shoved to the deepest darkest corners of his mind. It’s all coming back to him and he is getting lost in the memories like someone is fast forwarding through all of his trauma.

The whole time he was held captive in Germa’s castle, awaiting his not optional nuptials, he was hyper aware that cell is still down there, beating underneath his feet like a telltale heart, sinisterly waiting for him if his family got any ideas about creative ways to torture him. 

“Take your time,” Nami says, placing her hand in the middle of his back. As he inhales  breath after deep breath, he notices she is matching him, her lungs expanding at the same time as his. He is safe, he is in Nami’s arms, and he uses her closeness to ground himself. He can do this. 

“When it became clear that I was a worthless experiment gone wrong and no good for anything because I was a useless human, my father decided to declare that I had died to the kingdom. Rather than actually kill a child, since you know, he’s so sentimental, he had me locked up in one of the castle’s dungeons.” 

He grimaces, reaching his hand up and ruffling his hair. “They—they put a helmet on my head to conceal my identity. At least I think that’s the reason for it, I don’t even know. Maybe it was all just for the sake of cruelty. It could be opened with a key, which they only did at meal times so I could eat.”

Nami is speechless. 

“It was so dark down there,” he continues, his eyes glazed and far away. “So many things crawling on me, I hated it. I don’t like spiders or bugs…” His whole body shivers. “Once my brothers discovered me, I couldn’t escape from them either, they kept coming down, just to throw me around awhile for fun…” 

He soon learns that being alone is better than the alternative. 

Niji, look! Check it out, someone’s down here! It really is him, our favorite little punching bag!

Oh hey, so you’re not dead after all! Think dad’s got the key so we can get in there? 

The one slight silver lining to the helmet is his brothers’ kicks no longer crunch his skull quite so much; helmets were originally designed to protect from head injuries. It still doesn’t lessen the jarring of the impact though, especially with their super powered abilities. 

Each time one of them kicks the helmet it jerks his head around and his teeth clack together painfully. He has to be very careful that his tongue isn’t between his teeth when they hit the helmet or he could accidentally bite it off. 

It’s almost like they feel entitled to be extra ruthless, sometimes their attacks are so powerful he goes skittering across the floor, the scrape of the helmet on the stone making a horrible sound.

“How long,” she asks weakly, finding her voice. 

“I’m not fully sure, I was so little and I didn’t have any way to mark the passing of time really, I couldn’t even tell when it was day or night. It was months, as far as I can recall.” 

Hey Sanji! Here, I got you this. 

She passes a book through the bars. He takes it, eyes wide through the helmet, and runs his hand over the brightly illustrated cover. He flips it open, marveling at all the pretty diagrams of sea creatures and plants he has never seen before. She grins at him.

I thought you’d like this one. 

“Reiju made it bearable.” His eyes gleam with a wet sheen. “One day she brought down a book about the All Blue. I read it cover to cover so many times I probably wore out the pages. It became my escape, I could fantasize about this magical place instead of metal bars and darkness, damp stone walls, and, and Niji kicking me in the head.” 

She has been shocked to her very core several times in this whole conversation. Not only does his dream about the All Blue stem from his childhood abuse, but now that she’s heard the extent he suffered at the hands of his family, those names… Ni, San, Yon…

“What are the names of your brothers?” she asks. 

He furrows his brow. “Why?”

“I just want to know.” 

“Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji.” 

“So you really were just a number to him, huh?” She is disgusted. The evident cruelty just keeps on going. 

He rolls his eyes. “Judge isn’t that creative when it comes to sentimental things like names. I’m just experiment three.” 

He says it so nonchalantly with a hint of annoyance, like it’s barely a contender in the face of all he suffered through in his earliest experiences, and she supposes that is true, but it bothers her so much. It’s like his personhood wasn’t even acknowledged and his humanity was stripped away from him even in his name, ironically when he was the only one of his brothers to retain that humanity. She feels sick. 

“You weren’t joking about the tip of the iceberg,” she muses.

“No,” he says, just as somber. 

“So—” She rubs her forehead in disbelief, attempting to take all this in. “You said Reiju helped you leave Germa?”

I won’t ever have to see father again, right?! I can leave this place and go somewhere else, I can’t, I can’t stay here any longer!

The instant the helmet comes off his head should have felt like freedom, but he is so distraught he barely registers it. His chin and ears are blistered from the constant rubbing contact of the metal and his hair is matted down. The light hurts his eyes and nearly blinds him after so many months of secluded darkness. He wants to leave, but he doesn’t know where to go. There isn’t anyone who wants him. He gulps in the fresh air as he cries, tears pouring down his face. The boat in the harbor is his only salvation, the only way forward to a life that might be worth living.

Go, Sanji! I promise you’ll find nice people someday! 

“Yes. When we crossed over into the East Blue I finally asked Reiju to help me escape. She bent the bars of the cell and we went to search my father’s things for the key to the helmet. He caught us in the act, and that’s when he allowed me to leave, but made me swore never to reveal myself. Reiju helped me stowaway on a passing cruise liner, the same one that sank in the storm and I was stranded at sea. You know the rest.”

He feels her body shake underneath his cheek. He glances up at her and twin tears roll down her face in silent sobs. 

“It’s okay, Nami,” he says, absurdly trying to comfort her. 

She shakes her head. “No, it’s not. I never even imagined for a moment that, you had ever gone through anything like this. To suffer so much at the hands of your family, then you escaped just to get stranded. How are you still the kindest person I’ve ever met.” She covers her mouth with her palm to contain a cry, then wipes her cheek with the back of her hand. “You’d have every right to be the most bitter awful person, but you’ve risen above all of it. You are so strong, Sanji.” 

A tiny smile pulls at the corners of his mouth at her praise, but he lapses back into melancholy. “Thank you. But I don’t feel very strong at the moment.”

She cups his cheeks and lifts his head up to look him in the eyes. “I don’t think you see yourself accurately, and certainly not how the rest of us see you. Our crew is so much better with you being a part of it.” 

His expression falls, and she is unsure how he could take that statement as anything other than the compliment it is meant to be. 

“I still don’t think I should be here,” he says quietly. “I know Luffy forgave me, but…I attacked my captain—”

She shakes her head. “No, stop that. You cleared the air and now we know what happened that day. We’re going to work on this, remember?”

“But, the things I said—I can’t—”

He is still so worried; he can’t see what she sees in him. 

She is reminded of the time she herself betrayed the Straw Hats. She even recalls telling Luffy some pretty mean things too, about being a silly stupid little pirate crew and she’d never be a part of it. She really didn’t mean that either when she said it, but it was more a commentary on Luffy’s naivety than anything, and certainly she was proved wrong when Luffy saved her from Arlong. 

The similarities in their situations end there; she recovered so much quicker. As soon as Arlong was behind her and she and her village had the taste of freedom, it healed so much within her that was broken. 

He doesn’t seem to have had that type of moment. His freedom was escaping from the very people who were supposed to love him. 

Nojiko and Genzo love her and Bell-mère loved her too, and she proved it with the ultimate sacrifice for that love. 

His mother had essentially done the same for him, but after that, all he had left was Reiju, and she didn’t have enough power within the family dynamic to protect him. 

She left a village who wished her all the best on her journey (at least, they did before she stole their wallets).

He left pain, misery, and severe abuse, only to end up starving near to death at sea, and those kinds of wounds might not ever heal right. But, the Straw Hat Crew is his family now, and they love and appreciate him for everything he is. It’s just getting him to see it for himself.  

She smiles tenderly at him, and he looks at her like she’s his sole tether to the world. 

She leans in and kisses him.

Not a speck of hesitation; she’s never been more confident in her actions. She can tell his lips and cheeks are still a bit swollen, but she doesn’t care. There’s no one better than her to show him how much he’s loved and appreciated. 

He is taken for surprise, clearly not expecting this from her after all the intense discussion. After his initial shock he sinks into it, just for a moment, letting down his defenses and allowing her to reel him in, until he pulls away abruptly and cuts off the kiss much shorter than she would have preferred. He leans his forehead against hers. 

“Nami… I—”

He is so emotionally wrecked, his voice raw and wet with tears, and she wonders if maybe the kiss was too much for him. But then he is squeezing her tight, his head buried in her neck, and she feels more tears smear against her skin and slide down to her shoulder.

He shakes with a sob. “I didn’t think you would ever forgive me. I thought you might hate me.” 

He clings to her and her heart breaks. 

“Sanji, I understand everything now. I would never hate you.” She hugs him back as tightly as she can without putting pressure on his injuries.

Just by nature of their cuddling, his hips slot against hers and she cradles him between her thighs, giving him the time and comfort he so desperately needs. She can’t help but cry too, because she cares about him so deeply, more than he would ever realize or allow himself to dream, and seeing him so broken down and hurt makes her heart ache for him. 

The day he pushed her, Brook, and Chopper out of Bege’s castle, leaving them on Zou while he allowed Bege’s crew to take him away brought a sudden sharp clarity to all the feelings she knew she had about him, but resolutely ignored because it was easier than dealing with it. 

Suddenly he was gone and promised to another woman by force. Nami saw her future crumble at her feet, one she hadn’t even seriously contemplated, but now felt like it had been stolen from her. 

The relief she felt when he finally stepped foot back on the Sunny, this time to stay, completely overwhelmed her. Like with Arlong, she naively thought things were settled and they had made a getaway. He is where he belongs now and things can get back to normal. 

But everything is not normal and he is a shell of his former self, and now she knows why. The truth of all he suffered through, in past and present, has cracked them both wide open, where all the hurt is spilling out. 

She can be there for him now. By how he clings to her, she can see his need for love, affection, a place to belong, for someone to tell him he matters to them. 

She wants so desperately for him to see how much he matters, to her, and their crew. 

She lifts his face from her shoulder and recaptures his lips and he allows her to, responding much more tentatively than she would ever expect in a kiss with him, but she is determined to bestow all her love and affection on him. 

A tear drips to her cheek. She disengages, leans back and wipes at his cheekbone with her thumb, giving him a look of concern. 

“How can you stand kissing me when I look like this?” He’s back to diverting his gaze, shame and angst clouding his face. She holds in a sigh, this is Pudding’s doing.

“Because I want to and what you look like doesn’t matter. You’re still handsome as ever to me. Do you want to stop?”

“…No,” he admits with a sniffle, and she smiles, he is still himself after all this. 

“Then come here,” she says, nuzzling her nose against his and pulling him back in. 

They share soft easy kisses, unhurried and intimate, a hint of salt on their tongues from the tears on both of their faces. His nose is stuffy from crying so they can’t maintain longer contact without needing to breathe, but he keeps coming back for more, like he can’t help himself, like she’s the first taste of food he’s had after eighty days of starvation. 

She doesn’t want to overwhelm him too much, as he’s in an emotionally compromised state, but she doesn’t like the idea of stopping either. She gives him little pauses when they come up for air; he rests his forehead against hers and she cups his cheeks and runs her fingers through his silky blond hair, as they share the breath between them. She lets him restart the kisses so he is in control and she isn’t pushing him further than he is comfortable with. 

She has a feeling, however, that he will not be especially bold tonight or make any moves on his own, so she may need to gently encourage him. 

She puts all her intentions into each kiss, like a mantra; he is not alone anymore, his crew loves him, they are his family now, and the love between them is real. He responds like her message is received, his mouth moves with less hesitancy each time they connect and her head feels light and hazy, almost delirious as their mouths dance and the ship sways beneath them.

He is good at kissing in an intuitive way, tilting his head just so, perfectly matching their lips together like they were made for each other. His hands circle her waist respectfully and she curls her thighs around his hips. 

The drawn out kisses send tingles scattering through her fingertips, warmth blooms in her chest, and he clings to her like he is dangling by a thread. She encourages him by parting her lips and running her tongue along the line of his mouth. He inhales and parts his lips too, and she takes the opportunity to meet his tongue with hers. A whole bodied shiver ripples through her followed by a pleasurable swoop down below.

She loses her awareness of their surroundings the longer they connect, her focus dwindling down to experiencing the slide of his tongue against hers, as he explores her mouth with a passion that has been building for more than two years. 

At some point she realizes his hips aren’t in contact with hers anymore and he’s propping himself up. She craves the connection, so she wraps her legs around his waist and pulls his body back to hers, and immediately discovers why he attempted to distance himself instead of entwining their hips together. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, flustered, trying to lean away from her like she’d be offended somehow. She doesn’t let him escape. 

“It’s okay,” she says, out of breath, and deliberately presses her hips into his. He groans and hides his face in her neck. She pats a hand on his back and rocks her hips a few more times. His little gasps against her skin fuel her desire. 

It seems he can’t resist her temptations either and he finds her mouth, kisses desperately, seeking her tongue and gliding deliciously against hers when he finds her open and willing. 

It is messy, deep and passionate, and in the midst of it all his hands burn hot where they stay on her waist. She mentally urges them to explore her like a land uncharted, she wants him everywhere all at once. 

He breaks away for air and she leans her head back, exposing her neck as she pants. His lips gravitate to her throat, grazing her skin and his tongue peeks out to taste her. He kisses her pulse point, and she shivers and tingles as his teeth scrape, his tongue licks, and his lips pepper kisses down to her collarbone. 

She places a hand on the nape of his neck, fingertips in his soft hair, and approves his momentum as his mouth skims over the swell of her breast. His tongue trails along the edge of her top and her hand tightens on his neck. 

She senses his timidness, he is worried about pushing her too far or taking too much, so he waits for her clear signals. Even now, when he’s just as lost in the dreamy fog as she is, he’s still ever the gentleman.

She can’t stand the anticipation for long, so she slips a finger under the cup of her bralette top and slides it aside, exposing a nipple. He’s momentarily surprised at this development, but readily complies when she gently nudges him into action. He caresses her peak with the tip of his nose, then closes his mouth over it and the arousal simmering between her legs flares up into an intense heat. She feels his tongue brush flat over it, followed by suction inside his warm mouth. 

She gives the elbow of his other arm a little bump and his hand palms her other breast. His thumb brushes the fabric over enough to circle her other nipple. She’s pleased he seems to have found his courage. 

He switches his mouth to the other breast, giving equal attention while his fingertips roll the first one. She presses herself against his body, looking to satiate the desire between her thighs with friction, but it’s not enough. When his lips leave her nipple with a little pop, she pulls him back up for more kisses, conveniently aligning their bodies again, her bent knees splaying out as his hips settle against hers.

He rocks into her and she matches his pressure back, his hardness and the line of his zipper grinding in just the right spot to stoke her desire even higher. Every time he strokes against her his breath escapes his lungs with a pant, and she exhales when her hips match him each time. Their breathy sighs fill the room and drown out the sound of creaking wood and the boat cutting through the waves.

They reconnect for more open kisses and neither can stop the momentum. They grind into each other like a sensual dance and it’s so good she can barely stand it. She reaches her hands down and fumbles with the button to his pants. 

He holds himself up with his forearms on the bed, breathing heavily and allowing her to fold the flaps of his dress pants apart as she unzips them. She casts them off of his waist and they both work them down his legs. He’s left in a pair of silky white boxers, and for an absurd moment, she’s reminded that his dress clothes were intended for his wedding night with another woman. 

She tugs him into a kiss that is just on the edge of possessive and at the same time palms him right on the front of the silky boxers. He almost collapses on top of her in surprise.

She gives him a moment to gather himself after that, slotting their hips together and neither of them can resist the friction, now even closer with less obstacles in the way. She gasps and pants each time he collides with her and the only thing she can focus on while lost in the amorous daze is removing all barriers keeping them apart. 

She breaks another deep messy kiss and fumbles with her top, pulling it over her head and tossing it aside. He appreciates the chest she fully bares for him, while her fingers catch in the strings of her panties and she works those down too, the gusset sticking to her skin as it’s soaked with her arousal. She flops her arm out and drops them over the side of the bed. 

She can’t focus on anything else but the sense of him all around her, she is so consumed by it, the connection of each point of their bodies, and all she can think in her jumbled thoughts is more. 

He leans down and pecks wet kisses on her stomach, his hands cupping the outside of her thighs. She half sits up and maneuvers her toes to the waistband of his boxers, indicating she wants him to take them off. 

He leans up and obliges, and once they’re off and thrown to the corner of the room, she guides him back to her in a hug. She lays down against the pillow, fiery hair haloing around her, and lines them up so she can feel him between her legs. They both sigh and she smiles at him, caressing his biceps to his shoulders, sliding her hands up to his neck and rubbing her thumbs on his cheeks. His eyes are hazy and she gives him a little peck on the lips.  

All of his skin bared against hers feels so euphoric, she doesn’t think it’s ever felt this good. This time when he rolls his hips, she is so wet he almost slides in, and she’s disappointed when he doesn’t. He repeats this a couple more times and she gets the sense he is hesitating after this has escalated somewhat out of their control. 

She cups his cheeks and brings his forehead to hers, squeezing his waist with her thighs. She runs one hand down his side to his hip and presses with him, giving him a little nod, indicating she wants this. Her mind is so fuzzy with desire she can’t even think, there is no need for hesitancy. 

He grinds into her again and this time he doesn’t hold back. He slips in with no resistance, and she rolls her head back and clenches her hands on his shoulders with a gasp. The slow slide is exquisite, the stretch of him feels divine. 

But it only lasts a moment as he draws back a bit, apparently concerned he’s pushed too far, but she gives him appreciative kisses and he sinks back in. Once his hips meet hers and he’s fully buried in her, he hides his face in her neck again and she realizes he’s overwhelmed. 

She places her palm on the back of his head and pats him, letting him get his bearings.

“Are you okay?” she whispers. “Do you need to stop?”

He shakes his head no. 

“Just need a moment?” 

He nods. 

“Okay.” She rubs her hands along his sides, careful of the minefield of bruises, and can’t resist the wiggle of her hips as he’s positioned right where he needs to be. His hands clench her sides in response.

She gives an experimental roll of her hips, as much as she can with his weight bearing down on her. He muffles a groan against her neck. 

She feels his lips begin to kiss her neck and his hips flex. Pleasure curls up her abdomen and she responds. He groans and begins to match her with each encouraging rock of her hips underneath him. He rolls a long deep stretch into her and she can’t help the breathy moan that escapes her lips. He leans down and kisses her, her noises captured by his mouth. 

They find a rhythm, building the tempo higher and higher and he holds her so reverently, like she’s something sacred to him. All she wants is for him to realize that he is something special too, and he is worthy of love. He leans down to hug her and she kisses on his shoulder, his skin so soft and heated against her lips. He returns the kisses on the other side of her neck.

With each thrust she’s driven higher, and she sees every emotion play out on his expressions, he is an open book and never could hide from her. His blue eyes take in her face like she is the only thing he ever wants to look at again. Tears start to well up in his eyes and she kisses him sweetly, cupping his face in her hands and rubbing her thumbs on his cheekbones.

He reaches a hand between their bodies and she arches her back with a gasp as he finds the little button he is searching for. He watches her face, listens to every breath and moan, and responds intuitively with his fingers. 

He kisses her deeply, strokes deeply, and caresses his finger just so and she catches fire. He fans the flames higher as she shivers and shakes against him, he’s doing everything right and the pleasure ripples up her body. 

As she winds down from the high, he whispers urgently in her ear. “I’m close, where—”

“It’s okay, I have an implant, we’re safe.”

He nods, and it’s barely a couple strokes more and he is clinging to her, face buried in her neck and a hand gripping her thigh. She cradles him in her arms and hugs him through it. 

As he slows down, both of them panting from the exertion, he makes no move to leave and she is fine with holding him for as long as she can. 

He couldn’t move even if he wanted to. He still isn’t quite sure what just happened, but he’s determined to make this moment last as long as possible. 

Her heat is all around him, all encompassing, enveloping him in her love and he finally feels safe for the first time in weeks, for the first time in years, if he’s truly honest with himself. It’s like he never left that godforsaken rock, he’s been stuck in survival mode, waiting. Waiting for what, he didn’t know, but here in her arms, he’s finally found it.

The tears come easy, he can’t help it, he’s already cried this evening more than he ever thought possible, so he doesn’t try to stem the flow now. He’s not even sure he can physically stop himself at this point. 

He’s making a mess of her neck and hair, but she continues to hold him, with no judgement, warm and caring and loving and he thinks he might have stumbled into heaven, even if he doesn’t deserve it. 

He always knew Nami is special. His suspicions that she’s actually an angel in disguise are firmly cemented as she rubs his back, letting him take all the time he needs. 

He’s hugging her so tightly and he has no willpower at all to move his arms. It’s been an embarrassing amount of time when he finally lifts his head and looks at her apologetically, tears still rolling down his face. 

“Sorry, I can’t seem to control my eyes at the moment.” 

She grins at him and pats his cheek. “Aww sweetie, no offense, but I already figured you’re the type to cry after sex, even without the emotionally traumatizing situation.”

He can’t help it, he laughs and wipes at his face. “I should be offended, but I can’t really defend myself right now. I guess that tracks.” 

She smiles at him fondly, rubbing his arms. “Do you feel better?” 

“Well I definitely don’t feel worse.” He lowers back down and hugs her securely. 

She returns it, as though all her positive thoughts and feelings could absorb into him through osmosis, like it could actually help heal him. 

When she lets go and meets his gaze, she finally sees the glimmer of him that she’s used to in his eyes. He doesn’t look away this time.

She pecks him on the nose and loops her arms around his shoulders. “I suppose we’ll both have to get cleaned up.”

“Oh, right. Um…” He looks down between them. He’s still inside her and she’s feeling trickling sensations, which makes the situation a little urgent. “Do you have something to—”

“Tissues are over there on the vanity,” she says, indicating the box with a nod of her head. 

He carefully extracts himself and grabs the tissues. She cleans herself up, enough that she won’t make a mess on the way to a bath. 

She grabs her bathrobe and Robin’s for them to cover up with. The ship is relatively empty with half their crew in Wano, so she hopes they can make a clandestine trip to the bathroom. 

“If I carry you and sky walk there, hopefully we can avoid being seen,” he offers. 

She smiles, she could walk just fine but she has a feeling he needs to be close. “Okay.” 

He lifts her up bridal carry style and peeks out the door. Brook is at the helm, but he appears to be distracted. Everyone else seems to be inside elsewhere. He takes off into the sky, keeping an eye on Brook so they aren’t spotted. 

Once they reach the bathroom, he sets her down. He places a hand in the bath water, it’s still hot and ready to go. She gathers their shampoo and soap, hangs her bathrobe on a hook, and he offers her a steady hand as she steps into the tub. 

She sighs, leaning back into the warmth. “Oh this feels incredible after the last few days we’ve had.” 

He hangs up his robe too and gets into the tub himself. 

“No kidding,” he agrees, basking in the heat. He gives her a tentative smile, the first sincere one she’s seen on his face since Zou. “I’m glad you didn’t give up on me.” 

“Well, you always save my bacon, it was time for me to return the favor. I am so glad we didn’t lose you.” She scans him up and down. “You’re not going to like this but you really need to see Chopper. You have way too many serious injuries, Sanji. I’m worried that your ribs are broken. And that wound on your arm will scar pretty badly if you don’t let him stitch it up.” 

He grimaces at that, but she gives him a no nonsense look. 

“Fine, anything to please you, love,” he gives in. 

She grabs soap and a washcloth, cleaning herself below the water. He does the same.

She dips her hair into the bath, rinsing out tears and sweat. He dunks himself completely under and comes up with hair hanging in his face like a shaggy dog. She smiles and parts his hair so she can see his eye. 

She grabs the shampoo and pours some into her hands. Then she runs her fingers through his hair, sudsing it up. Once she’s finished he dunks himself again to rinse. 

He offers to wash her hair and she accepts. His fingers feel amazing on her scalp and he’s actually quite good at this, it’s like a mini head massage. Maybe she’ll have him assist with washing her hair more often if he always does it like this. 

Once he’s done with the soap she leans back and he rinses her hair as it floats around her in the water. He catches her eyes and smiles down at her, a cute blush on his cheeks, and she smiles back. She sits up and he squeezes out the excess.

“Hey, um, I know this might be weird to comment on, but I’m really relieved you’re covered for birth control. Not all pirate crews are like ours, or hell even the Marines, and if you were captured, I don’t want to think about the horrible things that could happen to you. I hope Robin is on something too, she’s incredibly strong but all it takes is Seastone…” 

Nami nods. “That’s exactly why we both are. I’m not surprised that you would think of it, you’ve always been more intuitive than the other guys on this kind of stuff. It’s horrible but it’s just a reality we face as female pirates. You’re very sweet to worry about us.” 

“I would fight until my dying breath to prevent that from ever happening to you two, but I’m not infallible. I’m glad you’re taking precautions.”

She turns around and smiles at him. 

He looks shy. “Is it okay if, can I… kiss you again?” 

She laughs. “You are too funny. We’re naked in the tub together after having sex and you’re not sure if you can kiss me?” she teases. 

He smiles back timidly. “I wasn’t sure if this was a one time thing…” 

“Aww,” she says, scooting up to him and pulling him in. “You really are a sweetheart. Yes, you can kiss me.” 

He sinks into her arms, relieved, and shares a kiss that is relatively chaste compared to the ones they engaged in less than an hour ago. 

When they part, she backs herself up to the bench to sit on it. He sits on the bottom of the tub and rests against her, head pillowed on her chest and arms wrapped around her hips. It doesn’t take long before his tired eyes are drooping closed, and he falls asleep in the warmth of the tub and her heart under his ear. 

In the bathroom light, his skin looks ghostly pale against the dark bruises on his face. She notes however that the worry lines have faded somewhat and the slight puff to his cheeks makes him look vulnerable and a couple years younger as he sleeps on her chest. She rests her cheek on the top of his head, holding him close. 

~ It’s been an indeterminate amount of time later when she hears someone calling in the hall. “Sanji? Are you up here?” 

She looks toward the door as Chopper passes by. 

“In here, Chopper,” she calls as softly as she can while still being heard. 

He spots her and comes in. “Oh, there you are! I’m looking for Sanji, he still needs his arm—what happened?!” Chopper exclaims, seeing the bruises blooming on his face as he rests against her chest. 

“Shh,” Nami says. “I know, it looks bad.” 

“Hey Chopper did you find him?” Luffy follows him in. “I want a snack.”

Nami thanks her lucky stars that the two most oblivious crew members were the ones to discover her in the bath with him. Neither of them would even question why they were taking a bath together, and if they did, they probably wouldn’t land on the correct answer. 

“But he looked fine at dinner?! How could this happen? Those are severe, it looks like his face is swollen, and given the state of the injuries, it looks like the swelling has gone down. How—why—” 

Luffy walks up to Chopper’s side and frowns at the state of his body above the bath water. 

Nami looks up at the two of them with teary eyes. “To answer your question, Chopper, he had on this weird face mask thing that covered up the bruises and swelling. The rest was hidden by his clothes.” 

Luffy stares at him with a blank expression, which anyone who didn’t know him would assume he isn’t thinking much at all, but Nami knows better. 

“Who did this to him?” Luffy asks in a tone that chills Nami’s blood. 

She looks down at him and her bottom lip quivers. “His brothers.” 

“When?” 

Nami heaves a sigh. “You asked the same question I did, Luffy…”

“Before or after he fought me?” Luffy asks intently. 

“Before.” 

Luffy nods, mouth in a flat line. “I see.” 

Nami looks up at him and the tears she tries to hold back overflow down her cheeks. She hugs him tighter to her chest. “He’s—oh Luffy he’s been through so much, it’s terrible… for starters they told him they’d kill Zeff if he tried to escape.” 

“What?! They found Zeff?” 

“Yes. He was terrified they’d attack the Baratie if he stepped out of line. His family is… well just look at him, they did this to him, and they’ve done much worse.” 

Chopper is sitting on the edge of the tub, holding his little hooves over his mouth and crying too. “His ribs look like they could be broken,” he says, choked up. 

“That’s what I thought too,” Nami says, brushing a hand over his side. “The entire time we’ve seen him in Whole Cake, he was hiding this.” She sniffles. “He told me some things in confidence, so I won’t repeat them, but… Luffy, he…” She looks up at him with sorrow on her face and tears in her eyes. “He went through some awful, awful things. It was really bad. It might take him awhile to get back to normal.”

Luffy’s head is bowed, but she can see his fists are clenched. 

“Oh there’s one more thing—”

Luffy shifts his gaze from the black and blue bruises and glances at her.

She carefully lifts one of his hands from the water and shows them the yellow cuff adorning his wrist. 

Luffy recoils immediately. “Is that—”

Nami nods with a sob. “They said he wouldn’t be able to cook anymore if he didn’t do what he was told! They deliberately targeted his hands!” 

Chopper wails even harder and Luffy looks calm on the outside, but she can tell he’s positively furious. There’s nothing that enrages Luffy more than slavery, and to see their tools of oppression used on one of his crewmates makes it personal. “Why are they still on him?” 

“He couldn’t get them off. They won’t explode,” she says quickly. “His sister switched them out for fake ones. But they’re stuck on him. He couldn’t—”

Luffy sheaths his hands in haki and leans forward. He covers the cuff with both hands and snaps it to pieces.

“Thank goodness,” Nami sighs. “Let me see if I can reach his other one. He’s been through a lot and I think he’s barely slept since he left, so he’s really out of it.” Also the post-coital drowsiness, but she isn’t going to mention that one. 

She has to shift him a bit, but Luffy takes his other wrist in his hands and snaps the second cuff. 

The shuffling around rouses him, and he blinks up blearily at the determined face blocking out the bathroom light above him.

“Luffy?” he asks, confused. He momentarily doesn’t seem to know where he is. 

“It’s okay,” Nami says, rubbing a hand on his back. “He broke the cuffs off, they’re gone now.” 

Chopper jumps onto him, clinging to him around the neck. “Oh Sanji, why didn’t you let me help you?!” he wails. 

“Uh…” He pats Chopper with one hand to console him, then seems to realize the full implications. His hand flies up to his face. 

“Your brothers do this to you, Sanji?” Luffy asks him, jaw set and arms crossed. 

He casts his eyes to the side. “Yeah. It’s fine now though—”

“No it’s not, your ribs are broken!” Chopper cries, kicking his little feet. 

“It really is okay, I’ll be alright.” 

“Sanji.” 

He looks up at his captain. 

“I know why you hid this from us. You knew if we saw what was really going on we’d never leave you. In the future, it doesn’t matter how much you think you’re inconveniencing us, how dangerous a situation you’re in, or if you’re sacrificing yourself to save us, we will always help you. Got that?”

A small smile turns the corners of his wavering mouth up, eyes reflecting a wet sheen. “I got it.” 

Nami gives him a small smack upside the head. “No more sacrificing yourself, I mean it.” 

Chopper pulls back and turns his big watery deer eyes on him. “Please let me take care of you now, okay?” 

He caves, charmed by Chopper’s cuteness. “Okay. I’ll come see you as soon as we get out of the tub.” 

“Good,” Chopper nods, and he sets him down on the edge of the bath. Chopper hops down and shakes the water off himself.

Luffy and Chopper depart, with Luffy mentioning that he is going to get a snack for himself. 

“Don’t you dare, Luffy!” he shouts after them, but he’s pretty sure Luffy isn’t listening.

Nami sighs, putting her chin in her hand as she rests her elbow on the edge of the tub. “He’s a bottomless pit, I swear.” 

“It’s a full time job just to keep him topped off,” he grumbles. 

Nami stretches her arms. “Well, I guess we’ve been sprung. You should really get treated by Chopper.” 

She moves to get up, but he places a hand on her arm. 

“Not yet. Please? Just a few more minutes.”

She raises her eyebrows, but she doesn’t get out. “Sure. We can stay for a bit.” 

“Thanks.” He gives her a timid smile. “Can we maybe, cuddle for a little longer?” 

He isn’t ready to face everyone else yet, for reality to set in, for the moment with Nami to end. 

She smiles fully and pulls him in. “I’d love to.” 

~

He tosses and turns. He is the earliest riser on the ship because he has to start breakfast every morning, and the longer sleep evades him the harder it is to wake up and get going for the day. 

Nami made him feel a hundred times better than he did previously, but as always the memories return to haunt him. The horrors persist, as the saying goes. 

Every time he closes his eyes he sees iron bars, dark corners, stone walls. He’s developed a bit of claustrophobia whenever he finds himself in small confined spaces. Sometimes he can feel the phantom sensations of metal clamped on his head, and he still gets triggered when he has trouble breathing. 

He wishes experiencing Nami’s (incredible, perfection, awe-inspiring) love was enough to heal everything inside of him, but some sins are permanent scars. He honestly feels a fair amount of guilt over that too, like he somehow tricked her into pitying him. Would she have made the same decisions if he hadn’t poured out all his trauma on her? He used to be so much better at keeping all his secrets under wraps. At what point will her regret set in? 

Dredging all of this up has left him quite raw, and his stomach is churning again. For a bunch of islands themed around food, he actually didn’t eat much while on Whole Cake, and even though hunger claws its way through his stomach (another trigger he has dealt with since being stranded) he can’t actually tolerate the thought of eating anything. A wave of nausea ripples across his belly and he hops out of bed, holding a hand over his mouth and racing toward the bathroom. 

As he enters the library, Nami is working on her maps at her drafting board. 

“Oh, Sanji, is everything alright—”

He scampers up the ladder to the bathroom, making it just in time to upheave the contents of his stomach into the toilet. 

It’s mostly stomach acid as his body retches. 

Nami follows him up in alarm, placing a comforting hand on his back. As he finishes, he rocks back on his knees, panting. 

“Are you okay?” she asks. 

“M’fine,” he mumbles, wiping his mouth. 

“Your stomach is empty. It’s probably not making the nausea any better,” she says. 

“I’m not hungry.” 

Nami presses her mouth into a flat line. “Sanji—”

“I can’t eat right now. It won’t stay down. I don’t—” he sighs and covers his face with his hands. “I don’t want to waste it.” 

“Oh, I see,” she says softly, instantly understanding. 

“I can’t sleep.” 

“You need it really badly, too.” She assesses his sorry state. “Come on, you can come with me, okay? I really should go to bed anyway.”

He washes his mouth in the sink and brushes his teeth. Then the two of them head back down to the women’s quarters. They settle into her bed, lying side by side and facing each other. She drapes her legs over his and he nestles his head on her shoulder. 

“Were you having nightmares?” she asks, fingers combing through his hair. 

“No,” he says. 

“That’s a lie,” she snorts. “You’ve been doing an awful lot of lying to me lately, for someone who said ‘oh I’ll never lie to you, my sweet Nami-swan,’” she grins, putting on a goofy voice to imitate him. 

A grin tugs at his own mouth. “That was a terrible impression of me.” 

“I would say it’s spot on.” She shrugs with a smile.  

He quiets. “I didn’t really know what to expect when Bege took me to Whole Cake. It brought up… memories… that I’ve tried my hardest to suppress. I wasn’t prepared for how little negotiating power I had, which was none. I was just a prisoner with everyone’s eyes on me, being used and manipulated for everyone else’s gain.” 

She quiets too and lets him speak. 

“Normally weddings are all about the bride, but since the entire deal hinged on Big Mom’s family gaining me, it felt like everyone was focused on me. Once I heard about the plot to kill me, it made a lot more sense, and the attention was a lot more sinister.” 

He sighs, and closes his eyes. “Facing my family again after so many years was… tough. I never wanted to see them again, and they’re still just as horrible now as they were back then, except their moves are even more powerful and their heinous actions are committed by adults who should know better instead of impulsive children.” He absently brushes a hand over his bruised chest. “I thought I had healed. I thought I had gotten myself to a place where I could exist as my own person and I didn’t have to be defined by the abuse they inflicted on me and the atrocities they inflict on everyone else. The secrets could stay buried; I’m so much stronger than I used to be. I’m free.” 

He runs his hands down his face. 

“Except I’m not free. The secrets can’t be hidden anymore and I haven’t healed anything. I was deluding myself.” 

Nami rubs a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “It’s a lifetime of trauma you’re trying to process in the space of a few days. Give yourself some grace.” She rubs a thumb on his cheek fondly. “And maybe now that all this is over, you can finally heal. You stood up to Judge and they won’t try a stunt like that ever again. You aren’t being forced to marry someone you don’t love and your captain and crewmates are very relieved to have you back, safe and sound, because you belong with us.” 

His eyes glisten as he blinks away tears. “I want to belong here,” he says softly. 

She lets out a small laugh. “Of course you belong here.” She sees the stress in his face. “What’s wrong? There’s something bothering you, I can tell.” 

His nervousness bubbles up to the surface. “Are you okay with what happened between us? I can’t help but feel that this isn’t real, or that I’m dreaming and when I wake up you’ll still be upset with me and you won’t have forgiven me. Or maybe you’ll wake up and you’ll regret it all—”

“Oh sweetie, you’re spiraling hard.” 

He chuckles heavily and rubs his eyes. “I never expected my feelings to be requited, Nami. Admittedly my mental state isn’t the healthiest right now.” 

“Well that much is obvious.” She sighs and pats a hand on his chest. “You’re not the only one who had to reexamine their life as a result of this whole situation. Your absence really made me think about a lot of things, especially how much your presence in my life means to me. I wanted to save you so badly, and when we finally met again, and you did that, I didn’t know what to think. But after hearing your story, I understand you so much more on a whole different level. I still like what I see, Sanji.” She smiles softly at him. “We’ve all come from checkered pasts, and I’m really glad you shared yours with me. Your willingness to open up to me made me willing to open up to you—literally I guess.” She giggles at her joke and he can’t help but smile too. 

“So no, I don’t regret a thing. You can stop worrying about it.” 

He nods slowly. “Okay. I hope you’re telling the truth—”

She scoffs. “When do I ever suffer fools, Sanji. What point would there be in lying to you?” 

He smiles sheepishly. “You’re right, as always. You are very honest, to the point of bluntness sometimes. I just… I’m having a hard time believing in myself right now, or that anyone could truly want me...” He chokes up on the last words. 

“That’s understandable given the situation you found yourself in. I suppose when everyone around you had ulterior motives and most of them hinged on your death, that would mess anyone up. Just remember, you’re back with the people who care about you, and we all see your worth. We all know it, the hard part is getting you to believe it yourself. We want you, Sanji. You belong with us.” 

Tears gather in the corner of his eyes. 

“It’s been a heavy burden my whole life. I thought I had a place with Zeff and the cooks at the Baratie, but the secret weighed on me, like a ball and chain on my ankle. I told myself that cooking there was a better life than I could’ve imagined while holed up in that cell, but it still always felt like I was waiting for something. I resigned myself to a life unfulfilled, because I couldn’t fulfill what its original purpose was meant for. Not that I even wanted to, because I hate everything my family is and stands for. But the fact remained, I was just drifting through the days, unmoored and useless.”

His lips curve in a little smile. “Then Luffy showed up like a whirlwind. I honestly didn’t know what to make of him. The thought of joining a pirate crew and leaving Zeff, all I’ve ever known since being rescued from that rock, was a terrifying prospect.” 

He turns his gaze to her. “Until I heard the laugh of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” 

Her cheeks tint a rosy hue and she smiles back at him with a shake of her head. 

“Come on, I was not the reason you joined Luffy’s crew. What about the All Blue?”

“I didn’t hesitate in the decision to rescue you. Even if I never find the All Blue, I don’t regret a single day being with you.” 

“Sanji,” she breathes. 

“Finding the All Blue was the fantasy of that little boy, locked in a dungeon experiencing hell on earth. He wasn’t living. The best thing he could imagine was finding a sea that might not even exist, with fish and plants that might be just as much a fantasy.” 

He cups her face, caressing her jaw with his thumb. “Maybe it’s time to give up on such fantasies and be a little more realistic. I was pretty close to giving it all up anyway with the arranged marriage. I even told Pudding that my dreams were over. It really put some things into perspective for me.” 

“No,” Nami says firmly. He looks at her in surprise. “You shouldn’t give up on your dream. You owe it to that little boy, who still exists inside you. Finding the All Blue would heal him, and you deserve that.” 

She smiles at him, and leans in to give him a kiss. “Besides, I can’t fulfill my dream if you don’t fulfill yours. What is a map of the entire world good for if it doesn’t contain the All Blue?”

He exhales, shocked by her resolve, and the tears almost spill over before he blinks them away. 

“I’ll be honest, Nami, while finding the All Blue is my dream, I have several dreams when it comes to you.” 

“Well then, let’s fulfill those other dreams of yours, huh?” she says, a sly smile on her face. She closes the space between their bodies with a passionate kiss, sliding her hands up his shirt.

His knees give out and he leans hard against the railing to keep himself from falling to the deck. Several days ago he did not think this was even possible, he was resigned to never see the Sunny or his crewmates again, he made sure he explicitly burned that bridge. 

Tears line his eyes. The things he said to Luffy were unforgivable, his actions even worse than that. He doesn’t deserve to be on this ship right now, yet somehow Luffy in his unconditional love for his friends forgave him anyway. He will never forget the feeling of Luffy’s skull being crushed under the force of his heel, or Nami’s shrilly screams, crying and begging him to stop. 

Nami…

He can still feel the sting of her slap, the pain made worse by the condition of his face under Reiju’s mask, but no physical pain could ever rival how much it broke his heart. 

He didn’t want to be forced into this marriage in the first place, and seeing her in person, this close, made his heart ache like an abscess in his chest. Of all the crewmates to come to his rescue, it had to be her, of course it was her. He ignored her screams even though every instinct made him want to run to her, sweep her into his arms and run away with her and his captain who had clearly gone through hell and back just to reach him. 

Instead her frigid glares and her refusal to forgive him lanced whatever broken pieces of his heart he had left, and he couldn’t even blame her. He doesn’t forgive himself either.

Your life is not worth this much trouble, look what you put everyone through. Pedro is dead. He is dead because of you and it wasn’t a fair exchange at all. Carrot said she doesn’t blame you, but can you really believe her?

He exhales another stream of smoke, and all he can do is acknowledge the steady storm of bitter accusations that swirl in his head, sounding suspiciously like his brothers’ taunting. 

His hands grip the railing so hard his knuckles turn white and he clenches his teeth. He’s still not sure why his brothers cared enough to help him and Luffy escape, and his emotions regarding their sudden display of camaraderie are beyond complicated. Could a single moment forgive the years of abuse, the mental torment, and all the bruises and scars? 

He shakes his head. Even as they stepped in to protect him and Luffy, they still only had insults to say, to keep up appearances at the very least. They were merely repaying the debt; he saved them from Big Mom’s plotting, they helped him escape from the island, especially when his body was in no condition to fight since it was already battered due to them in the first place. 

He curls his lip as the memory of Judge’s parting words pierce his chest like arrows, designed to hit the very heart of him and do the most internal damage.

Luffy… he snorts through his nose. Luffy couldn’t have misread the situation more, classic Luffy, but his simple response said with zero irony battered his wounded heart all the more, even as he felt a surge of affection for his ever the optimist captain. 

Your dad is weird. But he sure had a lot of nice stuff to say about you all of a sudden, huh?

He can’t help it, a tear escapes down his cheek and he sighs. All the work he has done to get himself to a place where he could function like a human being, years of burying this shit as deep as he could, packing it away and storing it in the dusty forbidden corners of his mind. Now all his past trauma is laid out and bare, the skeletons in his closet revealed in the harsh light of day for everyone to judge.

It is mortifying, excruciating. He doesn’t want to talk about it, he doesn’t want to be perceived. He wants the clear separation of who he used to be and who he became. He doesn’t want Germa to taint the life he has built with the Straw Hats, he wants it to stay buried, but now it is all mixing up into a confusing nasty entanglement and he has hurt everyone he loves.

He feels such shame that he can’t even meet anyone’s eyes. They all saved his pathetic worthless life and he knows he will never be able to repay them all. He is a ghost haunting this ship, an imposter, does he really belong here? Does he belong anywhere? 

The yellow cuffs still encircle his wrists, because no one has taken them off, and he can’t get them off himself. They feel like heavy chains, stretching back to Germa, shackling him to his past and he will never be free. Big Mom has the keys. Reiju said she switched them out and these won’t explode but it doesn’t matter, what they represent hits heavy, like a pit in his stomach. 

After all the events that have happened, icy fear grips his heart. Has someone already tried to detonate them? If Reiju hadn’t switched them out, would he even still have hands and arms, not to mention the damage and disfigurement a blast like that would cause to the rest of his body. Would he even survive it at all?

The slave collar that exploded in Sabaody was gruesome, the poor slave attached to it instantly headless. His stomach lurches and he forces down the acid rising in his throat. 

He has suffered so many indignities, vomiting over the side of the ship is more than he can handle at the moment. He’d rather just hurl his entire self into the sea, but then Luffy would try to save him again and drown, and he could never be that selfish. 

“Sanji?” Chopper’s kind little voice breaks him out of his destructive thoughts. He tilts his head to indicate he heard Chopper’s call. 

“I’m ready to take a look at your injury.” 

He clears his throat. “I’m fine, Chopper, no examination needed—”

“You were shot, Sanji. Your arm needs bandaging at the very least, but probably stitches too.” 

Chopper sounds firm and he wearily accepts that he probably will not get out of this. He flicks the ash off the end of his cigarette and tries to steady his legs before he pulls away from the railing. He puts his trembling hands in his pockets and follows after Chopper, resigned, and wondering if there is any way to shirk this examination. He glances at his white sleeve, which is stained red with blood running all the way down to his wrist. Chopper definitely won’t let him get away with that.

He walks behind Chopper with the air of a man being led to his execution (for the second time this week), looking for any excuse to divert the good doctor’s attention. 

As he passes Luffy laying on the Sunny’s grassy deck, he hears Luffy’s stomach growl. He stops. Perfect.

“Hey, uh… is anyone hungry? Maybe I could cook something for you?” he asks tentatively, as though he still isn’t sure they will accept him after all. 

He gets his answer when he is engulfed in hungry Straw Hats plus one Mink.

A slight pain eases in his chest, just a fraction. In this, he can still fulfill his purpose. He can cook, he knows he is undeniably good at this. 

“You guys did eat while I was gone, right?”

~

Nami smiles tenderly at her crewmates’ enthusiasm. Everyone is more than ready to have excellent food again, especially after the fiasco with the abomination Luffy tried to make. 

After they let him go, he grins and heads up to the kitchen, hands in his pockets. Nami narrows her eyes as she watches his retreating back. 

“Luffy, sit back down, your bandages are coming off again!” Chopper scolds. 

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Nami says as she takes the stairs, not listening for anyone to respond as she focuses on traversing over the battered deck. 

She approaches the kitchen door with quiet steps and peeks through the port hole window. The damage is still evident, soot and ash from the fire Luffy caused on the counters, dirty dishes littering every surface, wooden splinters all over the floor from the battle with Big Mom. And one cook suspiciously absent. 

She opens the door and sees smoke filtering up in front of the fridge. She rounds the counter with steps quiet enough to earn the reputation of a Cat Burglar and he looks up like he’s been caught. He leaps up to his feet, hastily wiping at his cheek. 

“Nami! Can I help you, or do you need something?” 

She crosses her arms with a little frown. His chipper act is just as fake now as it was on the deck, the same stupid smile on his face as the one he gave her when he was taken away on Zou. 

She assesses his appearance. He is weary, eyes red rimmed. He has the demeanor of a man who has suffered a great deal, and is doing terribly at hiding it. 

Nami doesn’t say anything, but glances around at the sad state of their home. “I thought maybe you could use a hand?” 

“Oh,” he says, sounding so very tired. He stares at the sorry condition of the counters, licked with burns. “I see you got on just fine without me.” 

She quirks her lips, he’s making jokes still at least. “Your captain tried to make dinner. You can imagine how well that went.” 

“I don’t think I have to imagine very hard,” he says, swiping a finger through the black soot. His shoulders droop. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” 

“Well you’re back now, that’s all that matters, right?” 

He takes in a breath and smiles at her without making eye contact. “Right.” 

She narrows her eyes at that. He did it again; that same grin that would look joyful on any other day, but it’s so painfully empty here.

“Sanji?” She tries to get his attention, to get him to look at her directly. 

“Hmm?” he replies absentmindedly, staring at the pantry door. 

“I don’t know what food items we have left in here. Luffy used up the majority of our stores and while we did get some food, we didn’t have a chance to restock much while we were in Whole Cake.”

He glances at her then, just for a brief moment, and the look in his eye is so haunted she can’t breathe.

He passes by her and walks into the pantry. She hears him huff to himself. 

“What about the fridge?” he asks. 

“That’s the only thing Luffy couldn’t touch, but we ate most of that food after his… ‘creation.’ I think there’s still some things left in there, but it’s not a lot.” 

“I can work with whatever we’ve got, I guess.” 

Nami nods. “Would you like help cleaning the counters and the dishes?”

He looks at the kitchen surfaces and piles of tableware, defeated. “Yeah, that would be nice of you.” 

Nami searches under the sink and finds gloves and cleaning supplies.

She works alongside him in silence for awhile, stealing glances at him when she can. He is so worn down and it worries her.

Isn’t he relieved to be back with his crew, back in his kitchen, where he belongs? Sure it’s a little busted up, but it’s nothing that Franky can’t fix. Isn’t he thankful for how much peril they endured to rescue him? 

He boils some water for rice and looks like he’s on the verge of tears. He’s not aware she is watching him. 

Almost like her staring is burning a hole through him, he glances up at her and finally notices he’s being observed. He smiles brightly at her, again without looking her in the eyes. She fights off a grimace and smiles back tentatively. Fake, fake, fake. Lies and subterfuge. 

What the hell happened to him? 

~

He smiles as he serves up stir fry to his captain and his friends and it’s the first one she’s seen from him that is the closest to genuine. 

Luffy’s mouth waters like it’s the best food that’s ever been placed in front of him. In truth it was made with the meager items left in the pantry, but his crew is sweet enough not to complain. 

Nami watches him as he sets her bowl down for her and heads back to the counter. 

“Sanji, aren’t you going to eat too?” she asks. 

He hunches his shoulders just slightly, vexed that she noticed he didn’t serve himself. 

“Yeah, I’ll have some too in a bit,” he lies. 

“How will you do that if the pan is empty?” Nami says pointedly. The rest of the crew look up at him too. 

He sweats, his skin prickling under the collar of his wedding dress shirt at the scrutiny. Damn, nothing gets past Nami. 

“You can have some of mine, Sanji!” Chopper speaks up. “I probably can’t eat all this.” 

He smiles warmly. “Thank you Chopper, but eat what you can, okay? I’ll handle any leftovers but you should eat until you’re full. If anything I’m sure Luffy can polish off the rest.” 

He really is fortunate that a cook with a complex about wasted food has a captain that is a literal garbage disposal. Luffy always ensures that no crumb is wasted on this ship, bottomless pit that he is. 

“But then what are you going to eat?” Nami presses. 

He intakes a breath to calm himself and hold his tongue, silence the sharp words he wants to say but never actually would, especially to her—just drop it, Nami. 

Instead, he puts on the best smile he can and answers, “I have something in mind for myself, don’t worry. Besides, I’m not really that hungry.” 

He hopes that will satisfy her, but it appears she is two seconds from calling him out. 

“Sanji, would you mind making me some tea?” Brook asks kindly. 

“Sure thing,” he answers easily, and Nami closes her mouth. He’s suspicious that Brook isn’t asking for tea because he truly wants it, and he internally thanks Brook for bailing him out.

The thought of food right now makes his stomach twist. He’s not sure he could keep something down anyway, and he’d feel guilty for wasting food they’re going to need on the trip to Wano.

If they end up having to ration their stores, no crew member of his will ever go hungry before he does. 

~

Nami offers to help with the dishes again after dinner. He tries to wave her off, but she insists. He allows her to help warily, conscious of her confrontational attitude earlier. He fears that she may be onto him, and he’s looking to avoid any uncomfortable discussions that he can. 

He’s simultaneously relieved that Luffy caught Chopper’s attention again, and he won’t have to deal with any extra scrutiny. 

He’s drying and putting away the dishes Nami has washed when she finally breaks the silence. 

“You still haven’t eaten, Sanji.” 

His hand slows as he dries a plate with a kitchen towel. “I’m fine. Thanks for your concern.” 

“You’re not fine. I don’t know why you keep lying.” 

He looks at her sharply, then turns away. As he feared, Nami isn’t letting this go. He sets the last plate in the cupboard and pulls out his cigarette pack with shaky hands. “I’m going for a break. I’ll be back,” he mutters, hustling out of the kitchen, running from his problems.

He makes his way up to the gardens, where Robin’s flowers, Nami’s trees, and Usopp’s plants are awash in the evening sunset, full of vibrant pinks, yellows, and oranges. It would be gorgeous if he didn’t feel so troubled. 

He’s halfway through his smoke and the sun has dipped below the water line when he hears soft footsteps approach behind him. 

“Did I scare you off?”

His shoulders tense. 

Nami joins him at the railing. “Thought I might find you out here. It’s your favorite place to go when you’re having a rough night.” 

He reacts to this just slightly, lowering his cigarette before he takes another inhale. 

“Wondering how I know? I see you out here sometimes when I’m on night watch. You always look like you’ve had a nightmare, or like you’ve got a lot on your mind, and can’t sleep.”

He doesn’t answer, but he sighs, smoke flowing out with his breath. 

Nami gives him a moment, but when it’s clear he isn’t going to engage, she continues on.

“You’re not yourself, Sanji. The others might not notice, or if they do they don’t feel it’s their place to speak up, but you aren’t fooling me. I don’t know exactly what happened to you while you were gone, but I can guess how traumatic it was. It’s obviously affecting you.”

She leans around and gazes up into his face. He stares resolutely at the horizon. 

“You can’t even look me in the eyes. And anytime you do I can see it plain as day. Your smile is so, so, fake and forced it’s painful. You’re acting like everything is fine, but it’s really not. I don’t know how to explain it but I know you’re putting on a mask for us. You don’t have to with me, you know.” 

If only she knew the half of it regarding masks. He inhales a drag of his cigarette and blows out the smoke in a long exhale, but still doesn’t respond. He’s not as good of an actor as he hoped, apparently. 

Nowhere near Pudding’s level, that’s for sure. 

She places a hand on the railing near him. “You’re closer to me than anyone else on this ship. If you can’t talk to me, who else can you?”

He taps a finger on the railing, a sign her words have hit their intended mark. 

He hasn’t delved into the thought of it before, but it is true. There are lots of close friendships between the crewmates, but he never truly feels like he’s a part of any. Luffy and Zoro share a bond that he and Luffy almost have, but it doesn’t quite measure up the same. He concedes this, Zoro has known Luffy the longest and was the first to join the crew. 

Usopp and Franky like to tinker and invent things together, and Usopp and Nami have a close friendship too. Zoro and Robin look after Chopper the most, and Nami and Robin share a sisterly bond as the only women on the ship.

Even Franky, Robin, and Brook share a camaraderie together as the older aged crewmates. 

But him… 

He interacts with Nami and Robin the most, in the form of doting on them hand and foot. He’s always known they mostly tolerate him and his antics. They’re appreciative of what he does for them, but he doesn’t form a trio out of their duo. 

Maybe he is just destined to be a perpetual stowaway in his own life.

“I could be overstating my importance to you, but I don’t think I’m wrong, am I?”

She’s not. She is the most important thing to him. He is aware and accepting that it’s unrequited. He has never had any expectations that he could mean as much to someone else. 

“You shouldn’t keep all that inside you. You can talk to me, I won’t tell anyone. But Sanji, it… it hurts me to see you like this.” 

He gazes out over the waves lapping against the side of the Sunny. “Thought you were going to rake me over the coals.” 

Nami crosses her arms and snorts. “I probably still will. Unless you tell me what happened so I can understand.” 

Flashes of cold dreary rain fill his head, a flame refusing to catch with the flick of a lighter. The weight of a basket in his hand and flowers on his arm, tears pouring down with the rain on his face.

“Nami, no offense, but…the last time I opened up I got burned, badly. I’m not about to go through that again.” 

He’s ruined this relationship too.

Hey Sanji, not so fast. Now we’re through. I’m sorry. Sorry we ever came here.

The final stake through his heart. Were we even something to begin with?  

“Let me guess, was it Pudding?” Nami says, looking at him expectantly. 

He meets her gaze, startled out of his brooding thoughts that she guesses so easily, but at the same time he is not surprised. Nami is always sharp and insightful. He can’t maintain her eye contact for more than half a second and he averts his eyes. 

“Thought so. Come on.” To his surprise, she plucks his cigarette out of his mouth and stubs it out. She grabs his hand and begins to walk, tugging him along.

“What, where are we—”

She marches determinedly to the women’s quarters, resolutely leading him behind her.

He steps inside hesitantly, unsure what Nami’s intentions are. She shimmies off her belt and sets it aside, then rummages through her cabinet. She pulls out a soft little crop top, which is barely more than a bralette. With her back turned to him, she tugs off her white dress. 

His eyes widen. “What are you doing?”

“Getting comfortable. We’re gonna cuddle.”

“What?”

She unclips her bra and his mouth drops open. “Nami…”

She puts on the shirt before turning around, and his eyes seem glued to her skimpy pink panties. He’s seen her in all manner of revealing swimwear, but somehow the intimate setting and the intimates she’s wearing feel different in this situation. 

She approaches him and makes him shrug off his fancy wedding vest, and undoes the sash at his neck. She studies the rest of his clothes, noting the blood staining his left sleeve. 

“Mmm, that won’t do, I don’t want to get blood on my bed—”

“Bed?” he almost squeaks. 

“Have you seen Chopper for that yet? It’s all down your arm.”

“I’m fine,” he insists. 

“Well we both know that’s not true,” Nami says flatly. “Why don’t you take off your shirt?” She tugs on his sleeve and reaches for the top button. 

“Oh, uh, well,” he stutters, backing himself just out of her grip.

She furrows her brows, confused by his skittishness. “I just thought it would be nice if we’re both comfortable. I’ve seen you shirtless lots of times before, it’s not a big deal.” 

“I know,” he says softly. 

Nami stares at him shrewdly and crosses her arms. “Is there something you don’t want me to see?” 

He looks off to the side and doesn’t answer.

“That’s a yes, then. I’m not going to force you to take your shirt off, but Sanji, whatever you’re hiding, you know you can trust me with it, right?” 

“I know.” 

He doesn’t move and she waits for a few more moments, long enough to make it uncomfortable. He still doesn’t break and she sighs. 

“Fine, I’ll let you off the hook for now.” She backs him to the bed and pushes on his chest to make him sit, then she takes off his shoes. 

“Well come on, don’t just gawk at me, scootch up on the bed.” She waves her hand toward the headboard. He is still in a mild bout of shock at the turn of events but he moves himself up until he’s sitting at the head of the bed. She crawls onto it and lays beside him. 

“Come here. And careful of your shirt sleeve, don’t get it on my sheets.” She opens her arms. It takes him a second to process, but he allows her to envelope him as he lays down with her. His head rests on her chest, and she softly strokes his hair. 

He is hurting very badly, because his face is nestled against her and he is barely even registering it, not a heart eye or blush in sight. 

“My first question is, why didn’t you tell us who you were? Did you think you couldn’t trust us, or that we would send you away or something?” 

His entire body tenses. Judge’s harsh voice rings in his ears like he just heard it yesterday. He could still feel the tears and mucus pouring down his face and soaking under the helmet as he was told to forget his last name and never tell anyone who he was, so he wouldn’t bring shame upon his family. His heart pounds, the fear freezing him like ice, spreading through his ribs. 

He was so little, just a small child. The reality that his beloved mother was gone hit him the clearest in that moment, the realization that he had no one left in the entire world who wanted him. 

There was also the fear that if anyone were to find out he was a Vinsmoke, they’d try to kill him, or take him back to Germa, right into his family’s evil clutches. Back to the helmet and that deep dark cell. He shivers. He still has nightmares about that cell. Sometimes he can still feel the spiders crawling on him, hear his cries, his brothers’ jeers, and the sound of his helmet scraping across the stone floor echoing off the walls. 

He fiercely forces thoughts about the cell away as quickly as he can, because the longer he allows himself to think about it, the worse the resulting panic attack will be.

The weight of it all compresses his chest and his throat closes up around the words. 

Nami senses his distress. “Sanji? Are you okay?” 

He shakes his head no, a quick nervous jerk and he hunches his shoulders. 

Nami smooths her hand on his hair, gently petting him. “You’re safe now, you’re with me. I can see that you’re struggling and I think you’ll feel better if you tell someone what’s really going on. Should we start on a different question?” 

He half-heartedly shrugs.

“Who are the Vinsmokes?”

He attempts to brace himself for questions he’s not strong enough to answer. He takes a moment, weighing his options, and knows that Nami isn’t likely to let him out of this conversation. Finding his voice, it’s hoarse as he speaks.

“Judge rules over the Germa kingdom. He and my siblings insert themselves wherever they can, using their army to liberate whoever is willing to pay the highest bid, and crushing their unlucky enemies. They are ruthless, emotionless, and violent for the sake of it.” 

“You’re not like that.” 

“No, I’m not,” he says softly, and there is so much loaded behind his words. His eyes are red rimmed and his gaze far away. 

She waits for him to continue. He doesn’t. 

“So, you’re a prince? It was quite the shock to find out you’re royalty. Why all the secrecy?”

He clenches his teeth, squeezing his eyes closed as tears gather at the corners.

“Sanji, I’m really worried about you. Are you okay?” she asks again. 

“Nami… no. I…” 

“Hurts too much to talk about it?”

He sighs heavily. “I don’t even know where to begin.” 

“Well, I saw how your family treated you. I believe you when you say they’re ruthless. If they’re all so awful, why were you going along with them? When you left us, you were adamant that you weren’t going to get married. But when Luffy and I found you, you were…not yourself.” He hears the heat in her tone. He can’t blame her for it, even as it slices straight through his heart. 

“You sure spouted off a lot of crap to Luffy. There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” she prompts, to encourage him to keep talking.

He can practically feel the gears turning in her head, trying to figure out where he fits into all of this. Why he is so different from his family, why he’s estranged. Normally he is the first to praise Nami for her intuitiveness, but now that he is the subject of her laser focus, he is intensely uncomfortable in the worst way. Each question feels like she is prodding at an open wound.

“Do you trust me?” 

He wants to. He wants to so badly. She is right, he is closest to her out of all the Straw Hats, and if there is anyone who he could pour out all his deepest darkest secrets to, it would be her. He doesn’t know how to explain that he feels so fragile, that his past is like a weight chained to his ankles and it’s dragging him to the bottom of the ocean. It is not something he will ever be free of, and he is only capable of coping with it the best way he knows how, which is stuffing it into a box and sealing it away. The box is destroyed at the moment, but he assumes he’ll find another one. 

“Please, talk to me. You know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” 

He pauses at that. Deep guilt and shame flood his chest. He can’t help himself. “You mean like I intentionally hurt you and Luffy?” His voice carries an edge to it, he knows he is on thin ice with her and it’s already cracked. He deserves to fall through to the icy depths, he shouldn’t even be here, Luffy shouldn’t have forgiven him, she certainly doesn’t—

Nami is stymied a little, and she sighs. “Sanji, yes I’m hurt about that, but I’m giving you the opportunity to explain yourself, so I can understand what you went through, what was going on in that moment. I know you had a reason, right?” 

Of course he did. It was desperation and self-sacrificial and it didn’t work. He banked on Nami reacting exactly as she did, he knows her so well, but she couldn’t convince Luffy to leave. He expected that too. 

But what choice did he have? There was no hope of escaping, not with the immediate threat to his hands, his cooking ability, his sole source of comfort and purpose in life. If he can’t cook, what is the point of living?

Even if he sacrificed his hands for an attempt at freedom, there was still Zeff and the Baratie. If anything happened to them because of their association to him… he can’t even think about the depths of despair he would reach. 

It’s twisted how they found his two biggest weaknesses so easily and used them against him so effectively. 

He did everything in his limited power to ensure that his crew could leave, even if he couldn’t. He gave them the off ramp, guilt free, courtesy of Prince Vinsmoke Sanji’s treasonous words and actions. 

Luffy saw right through his facade and refused to take it. 

“I had reasons.”

“Tell me what those were.” 

He could swear Law removed his heart from his body and someone is clenching it in a vice grip, for how much it hurts. He could break down and sob in her arms, but he doesn’t. Instead his mouth freezes and he can’t say anything at all. 

She rubs his back in response to his silence and her touch finally registers with him. Nami is soft and comfortable under his cheek, and her body is warm and inviting as it entwines with his.

He’s always known on some level that he doesn’t get touched, even just platonically, nearly as often as he would like, and feeling her warmth and softness highlights how desperately touch-starved he is. 

He hasn’t been hugged like this since his mother died. 

Nami’s closeness lulls him into a sense of security and it loosens his lips, just slightly.

“It was Zeff,” he bursts out, anguished. 

Nami gasps, her hand stilling on his back, clutching his shirt. “Oh no… they found out about Zeff?” 

“They—they told me they would attack the Baratie and kill Zeff if I didn’t fully cooperate. I don’t know how they got that intel but they knew everything about it and my time there,” he rushes out. “I owe him my life. Zeff raised me, I couldn’t let anything happen to him. I couldn’t, Nami I couldn’t…” he trails off, his voice cracking. 

“Oh, Sanji…” She embraces him tightly and he grimaces, but he doesn’t let her see. 

She lets go of the hug. “You have three brothers, why did they choose you for the arranged marriage deal? Why not one of them?” 

He grits his teeth, resentment and injustice bubbling up in his chest. “Judge didn’t want to marry off one of his precious sons and have him under Big Mom’s thumb for the rest of their lives, so he conveniently remembered me. It was the perfect setup, suddenly here’s another Vinsmoke son who isn’t good for anything except marrying him off for political gain. Wasn’t too hard to track me down after they upped the bounty on my wanted poster and printed my last name.”

“Was that why your poster was changed to ‘only alive’?”

“Yeah.”

Nami gives him a little squeeze, her hands catching on his ribs. “What a mess.” 

He winces again, unable to help it, and Nami’s sharp eyes register his flinch. “Hey, are you okay? Did that hurt? I barely touched you.” 

“I’m fine,” he says, too rushed and a hint irritated. It’s the wrong tone and the wrong thing to say to someone like Nami, and she picks it up immediately.

Her eyes focus in on his white dress attire. “Sanji, take off your shirt.” 

He sighs. “Nami…”

“If you won’t do it, I will,” she says firmly. “Sit up.” 

She gets up herself and his head looses its perch on her chest. He doesn’t immediately comply, so she grabs under his shoulders and hoists him up so he is sitting too. He allows her to reluctantly. 

She kneels in front of him and raises her hands to the top button, waiting for him. He looks away, but he doesn’t stop her.

She undoes the first button and starts on the second, glancing up at his face as she does so. He refuses to look her in the eye as his chest comes into view with each button undone. 

Nami gasps and her fingers start to shake as she reveals more of his torso. As she releases the last button and pushes his open shirt to the sides, she sees exactly what he was trying to hide. 

Deep purple and black bruises mar his skin, much of it wrapping around his ribs. She wonders if some of his bones are broken, if he took the kind of impact to cause this significant amount of bruising. There are angry jagged red lines branching out in the shape reminiscent of lightning burns. 

“Who did this to you?” she says, clenching her teeth and failing to control the shake in her voice and the tears lining her eyes. She gently places her hand over a particularly nasty bruise on the right side of his ribs.

“My family.” He still won’t meet her eyes. 

“When?”

He shakes his head minutely, his jaw tensing. 

Nami stares at him, her thoughts whizzing in overdrive. “Sanji, was it before or after the fight with Luffy?” 

He sighs through parted lips and he can’t control the pain and regret that crosses his face. 

Nami pulls the sleeves down his arms, revealing another seeping wound on his bicep, the cause of all the blood on his sleeve. There are bruises on his forearms, where it appears he attempted to block incoming strikes. “It was before the fight, wasn’t it? You stepped out of that carriage looking like this underneath your clothes.” Her hands tremble. 

He nods once, a silent confirmation. 

She sets the shirt aside and tenderly touches his body with her fingertips, cataloguing all the damage. “This is so much worse than I thought. I don’t know what I expected to find, but it wasn’t this.” 

She’s never seen him with injuries this severe, not even after Thriller Bark, where they all had been pushed to their physical limits at the time, or Fishman Island, where they fought thousands of opponents. These are so precise, intense, and personal.

This isn’t regular battle damage… these look... abusive… 

Her eyes land on the yellow cuffs circling both wrists. They trigger something in her memory, something terrible, but she can’t immediately place it. “What are those? Sanji?” 

He closes his eyes with another sigh. 

“Sanji, what are those.” 

He clears his raw throat, his voice rough with emotion. “They’re… like the slave collars. The ones we saw at Sabaody.” 

The realization socks her in the gut and knocks the wind out of her. That was why they looked familiar, why she felt an immediate sense of dread. “No…they didn’t, oh God…” she looks up at him with stricken eyes. 

“I… was told that if I didn’t comply, they would…if I didn’t fall in line and do what I was told, they would explode and I would lose my hands. I would never be able to cook again.”

Nami’s hands fly up to her mouth, horrified. “Oh my God...” She stares at the innocuous looking cuffs, her mind connecting the dots and thinking over everything that had occurred on Whole Cake. 

“These were on you too, weren’t they? When you fought Luffy?”

He nods again. 

“Oh Sanji,” she cries, as tears stream down her cheeks. A flash of alarm crosses her face, interrupting her grief. “Who has the keys? Could these still go off, are you in danger—”

“Big Mom has the keys, but it’s okay, these won’t explode. Reiju switched out the real ones with these when she put them on me. I’m sure if they were real, by now someone would've… well.” He looks down at his hands with upturned palms, frowning. “I just, can’t get them off.”

Her initial panic subsides, but she doesn’t take her eyes off of the cuffs. “We’ll figure something out, as long as we know they won’t blow up.” She slides her gaze back up to his face. “Is there anything else that you didn’t tell us?” 

He hangs his head. “There is… one more thing…” 

He hesitates. Nami is not Pudding. Nami is kind and caring. She has only expressed horror on his behalf at the state of his body and his captive situation. She won’t be cruel, he knows this. Still, his fingers shake and sweat beads at the nape of his neck, anxiety squeezing his chest. 

She waits patiently for him to gather himself, and he appreciates it. He decides to trust her, even as apprehension tugs at his heart with every beat and he’s already faced the cruelest mockery over his appearance once before. He can’t take that kind of rejection from Nami, he would crumble into dust and blow away.  

His fingers scrape along the edge of the mask on his forehead. He peels it off slowly, revealing how he truly looks underneath. He can’t bear to see her expression if she’s going to sneer or laugh, so he doesn’t look.

The noise Nami makes is wounded and she turns ashen when she sees the state of it. The swelling has gone down some, but there are deep black bruises around both eyes, on his cheekbones, and along his jaw. 

She reaches out a hand and cups his face, her fingers trembling. It must look as terrible as it feels. 

“Did—did I slap you when your face looked like this?” Her voice is small and wavering. 

It looked worse actually, but he isn’t going to tell her that. He nods.

Her expression crumples. She hides her face in her hands, and her shoulders shake with a sob.

He finally turns to look at her. “Nami, don’t cry. It’s okay.” 

“No,” she shakes her head. “It’s not okay. I’m so sorry, Sanji. I was thinking the worst of you and now I see what you were dealing with, all alone, you must have felt so awful. I should’ve seen through it just like Luffy did, I’m so terrible. I abandoned you when you needed us the most.” 

“Nami,” he says kindly, “I know Luffy is stubborn. Most of that was because I knew it would make you angry, enough to slap me and sever our friendship. I was hoping you would drag Luffy out of there, the only way he would go is if he wasn’t conscious for it. It wasn’t a great plan, but I wanted you and Luffy away from my family as quickly as possible. I wanted you to leave, and abandon any plans to save me. There wasn’t any hope for me at that point, it was about saving you—”

“You’re such an idiot,” she says, laughing though the tears. “You big dumb sweet stupid sacrificial idiot. It almost worked, but Luffy is more stubborn than I am. He sure saw through your bullshit right away though.” 

He chuckles sadly. “He sure did, called me out immediately. It was the shittiest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I sobbed like a baby as we drove away.” 

Nami wipes at her cheek and grabs his hand.  

“Luffy knew exactly what to say too. That he’d just starve to death unless I came back. He twisted that knife right where it would hurt the most. Bastard.” He had to laugh, even as tears glistened in his eyes. “I deserved it though.” 

“You didn’t deserve anything that happened to you,” Nami says seriously, squeezing his hand. “Sanji, what you’ve been through, it’s…”

“A lot,” he supplies quietly. “When you and Luffy found me, there was nothing I could do. If I tried to go with you, one call could put Zeff and the Baratie in danger. And, and my hands— at the time I thought I’d lose my hands—What if I tried to escape with you and they detonated while you were next to me? I couldn’t chance it! It broke my heart, Nami. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what else to do!” 

He can’t keep the sob out of his voice, the tears from forming and threatening to overflow. 

She isn’t going to mention that Luffy literally tried to tear his own hands from his body to save him. He would never get over that kind of guilt, and no one, least of all Luffy, would ever shame him for trying to avoid that horror. His dream of cooking is directly tied to the use of his hands. What cruel and deliberately targeted collateral they had held over his head. 

Instead, she reaches out for him and pulls him back in. They resettle on the bed, Nami holding him and stroking his now bare back. Her skin is so soft underneath him, he’s caught up in the intimacy of it all, and the acceptance he feels from her loosens his lips even more. Nami keeps up the soothing movements of her hands as he relays his side of the story.

“My whole stupid family was there, primed to attack because they weren’t going to let anything interfere with their deal. They certainly wouldn’t just sit there and let me tell you the truth. If I said what was going on, you know Luffy would challenge them immediately. I wouldn’t worry about Luffy handling his own, but Nami, they could’ve attacked you too, and they don’t hold back. I was already injured, I was concerned that I couldn’t protect you.” He grits his teeth. “One of my brothers beat up a young chef and left her unconscious in my room for me to find, and it was my fault he targeted her. That poor girl, because of me… I would die before I let that happen to you.” 

“He assaulted a defenseless girl?” She gasps, covering her mouth with her hand, eyes wide in disbelief. 

“Without a shred of remorse,” he says, gravely serious. “I had to get you and Luffy to leave without engaging them. If you believed that I wanted to be there, that I had cut all ties with you and there was no chance of me coming with you, I could spare your lives. As long as you got out of there safely, even if you hated me. I could live with myself and what I had done if you were safe and you weren’t caught up in this mess. I even… I tried to make a deal with Big Mom. I said I would marry Pudding without complaint if she allowed you and Luffy to leave unharmed. She lied to my face and said she would honor that deal. Instead I heard that you were captured, and I still had no fucking leverage to do anything about it.”

He clenches his fists in frustration, tears lining his eyes with a distressed sheen.

“My family didn’t want me, Big Mom didn’t want me, Pudding didn’t want me. Big Mom and Pudding were actively plotting to kill me at the God damn wedding and if they succeeded my family would’ve just laughed about it. I was being used for negotiations that were pointless, why did everything have to hinge on me? They could’ve just formed an alliance without me, since everyone wanted me dead anyway, why did they even bother.”

He can’t hold back a sob that wracks his whole chest. He loses the battle against his tears as they spill over, dripping onto the front of Nami’s shirt. 

“Do you know what it feels like to be a bargaining chip that no one actually wants?” 

Her chest is drenched in his despair.

“I want you.” 

She holds him as tenderly as she can, one hand on the nape of his neck and the other still running soothingly over his back. He clenches his fist so tightly his knuckles turn white.

“You’re probably thinking some self destructive thoughts that it’s only because you’re everyone’s meal ticket or something stupid like that, but it’s not true. We missed you.” She cups his cheek, damp under her palm. “I miss you.” 

He is unable to control the tears as they stream down to meet Nami’s fingers. “My heart ached to see you. I wanted so badly to leave with you and Luffy. I didn’t want to marry Pudding and seeing you made me realize even more how much I was giving up. But I… I had no options, I was backed into a corner. Big Mom is an emperor and her family is vast and super powered. My family has a history of atrocities and violence. You…. You don’t even want to know how my brothers spoke about you. It sickens me. If they were to get their hands on you…”

Nami is surprised to hear her inclusion, she didn’t even consider that any of the parties involved in this whole mess would covet her, too. In the worst outcome, she could’ve been trapped with the Vinsmoke brothers and he would be dead, unable to rescue her from the clutches of his horrible family. His personal idea of hell. 

Nami is silent, working over everything he has said. “I know you were up against the odds on your own, but why did you think that you had to do all this alone, like we wouldn’t help you? Even on Zou, there might have been something we could have done—” 

“Because you shouldn’t have to! It was my family, my past, my mess. There was no way we could beat Big Mom and her whole family and my family on top of it, in their home territory. My life wasn’t worth the Straw Hat Crew being defeated here. I didn’t care what happened to me as long as you all were safe and could keep sailing on.” 

Her fingers tighten on his arm. “See, that’s why I’m angry. You just made the call and sacrificed yourself. You don’t value your own life, Sanji!”

She lets her words hang in the air and he can’t refute her, the silence between them damning. 

“Everything you do is serving others. Like you think it’s the only way you can be useful, it’s the only reason for anyone to keep you around. Like Luffy and I would just accept that your marriage was the best thing for you and our crew. When I asked Zeus to be my servant, youanswered. You’re an actual prince, but your whole life is about appeasing everyone else. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you wait on Robin and me all the time like you’re some personal butler or something. We appreciate it, but neither of us would expect you to do that for us.” She studies his face. “We don’t love you just because you’re useful to us, you know. We love you because of who you are.” 

It is clear that these are words he desperately needs to hear and take to heart, but are very hard for him to accept. 

“You sacrificed yourself. You said all those terrible things and kicked Luffy hoping we would give up on you. That we’d just leave you behind, even after everything we went through to get to you.”

More tears drip onto her skin. “Yes.”

“Well you almost got your wish. I couldn’t believe you would do that to our captain, that you could hear me screaming for you to stop and you wouldn’t listen, you’ve never just, disregarded me like that…” her voice wavers, tears glistening in her eyes.

His shoulders shake with a shuddering breath and he is too ashamed to speak. 

“You should’ve known Luffy would never give up on you.” She sighs. “He refused to give up on you, even after all those horrible things you said, after kicking him in the face.” She stops and assesses his grim injuries, gently rubbing a thumb on his cheek under a painful bruise. “I—I’m sorry I slapped you. I should’ve guessed that you were in an impossible situation, I should’ve trusted that you had a reason for acting that way. Luffy knew. Luffy knew you were lying, but I was too hurt and angry at you in the moment to look past it—” 

“I deserved it, Nami. You don’t have to apologize.” His voice is hoarse. “Honestly you should’ve slapped me harder.”

“Sanji, no. The point is none of this was your fault. After we found out how you were being manipulated we knew we had to rescue you—”

“What I did was despicable, whether I was being held hostage or not. Luffy might have forgiven me, but I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

Nami sighs. “We’ll… work on that one.” She studies him for a long moment, thinking through her thoughts. “Why didn’t you trust us to help you, when Luffy and I found you? Did you think Luffy couldn’t? Don’t you believe in our captain, after me and Arlong, especially after what happened with Robin and Enies Lobby?” 

He’s silent for a moment. It’s true, he’s seen Luffy pull off the impossible, so many times. They hadn’t faced an emperor before though, in the emperor’s home turf, with all her crazy suped up devil fruit kids. There was a high probability that their crew would not get out unscathed, and at the moment that Luffy and Nami had intercepted him, there was no alliance with Bege’s crew or assistance from the Sun pirates, and they would’ve been facing down his own horrible family too, while he was injured. Those stacked odds along with the slave collar cuffs and Zeff hanging in the balance…

The decision had been clear, even though it broke the very core of him to hurt his friends. 

He’s all in at this point, she deserves to know. She’s already said it as much, really.

“Nami… of course I believe in Luffy. It really wasn’t about Luffy, or believing in our crew.” He looks down. “The real reason—I….. I didn’t think I was worth saving.”

“Sanji,” she says, distressed. 

“I didn’t want to drag you all into this mess. All this pain and suffering and misery…. I didn’t want either of you anywhere near it, anywhere near my family. My life was not worth the effort of any insanely risky attempts to save it, no matter what kind of miracles I know Luffy is capable of pulling.”

“But—”

“Before you hit your lowest point, would you have willingly led us all into the hands of Arlong?” he asks intently. 

Anything she was going to say withers at this. No, the answer is no. 

“And look at how it turned out. Look at what it took to save me. Luffy’s injured and Pedro’s dead. So is Pekoms. We don’t know if Jinbe is still alive or if Big Mom killed him too; how many of the Sun Pirates gave up their lives for me? It wasn’t worth it!” Tears streak down his cheeks at his outburst. “I am not worth this, Nami. Pedro shouldn’t have had to die!”

“If your face didn’t look like that I’d slap you again to knock some sense into you,” Nami says, crossing her arms. “Sanji… I know why you feel this way, but it’s not rational. We came to save you for the exact reason that your life has worth, not only to our crew but to everyone else who stood up for you too. No one would put their life on the line for someone who wasn’t worth it… well, no one except you. You saved the Vinsmokes and not a single person would’ve blamed you if you had let Big Mom’s family do their worst to them.” 

Nami bites her lip, mulling over how she should continue.

“Also, about Pedro… I’m not sure if this will make you feel better or worse, but Pedro’s death isn’t on your shoulders. He died so Luffy could escape with the Poneglpyh copy, which he needs to become King of the Pirates. Big Mom has a Road Poneglyph, we would’ve needed to come to her territory to get it whether you were here or not. The Minks believe in Luffy as much as we do. Carrot knows this, we all do, and no one blames you. It’s so sad and we all are grieving, but don’t you dare think Pedro’s noble death was in vain— you already know exactly why someone would sacrifice everything for you, even if you think you didn’t deserve it. Are you going to angst about it, or appreciate the gift they’ve given you?” 

She pauses to let that sink in.  “And you know what, you’re right, I didn’t want to lead any of you right into Arlong’s hands. But you came to save me without hesitation when I asked, didn’t you?” 

He beaks his silence. “Of course, Nami, but—”

“It’s not different, Sanji. Do you think I’m smart?”

“You’re the smartest person on this ship, what does that have to do with anything—”

“Do you think I have good judgement?”

“Why are you asking this?”

“Answer the question please.”

“Obviously. We would not have survived as long as we have without you.” 

“Do you think that my decision making process is flawed in any way?”

“Is this an interview? Nami, you are flawless, how many times have I told you—”

“I’m just establishing a baseline. Now, if I am so intelligent and my judgment is unimpaired and flawless, why do you doubt when I say that you are worth saving, you are loved, and deserving of that love without any need to be useful to us? To me?”

He doesn’t know what to say, he is completely lost. It’s what he wants to hear most in the world, but he has to fight through so many mental barriers to truly believe it. All he knows is being useful, it’s the only way to accept that anyone could possibly care about him in any capacity. 

“Don’t you get that, don’t you understand?” Nami huffs. “We all love you.”

No, he doesn’t understand. He wants to so badly. So he deflects instead.

“Is that ‘we’ inclusive of Zoro?” 

She snorts. “Don’t derail my sentiment with a joke. Zoro also loves you in his own way.” 

“Sure. And I love oregano.” 

Nami rolls her eyes. “The point is, your asshole father did a number on you. I heard what he said about you to Luffy, and I can clearly see the effect it’s had on you. There is no way Luffy and I would just leave you to that fate, knowing that you were going through hell.” 

He sobers. Small moments of levity weren’t enough to fix all the trauma he is walling up inside him. “Nami, I… It was hell.” 

She comforts him as best she can. While she’s wresting all his secrets out of him, she recalls he initially evaded opening up because of something that happened with his fiancée. Maybe she can get an answer out of him now. 

“You said you got burned by Pudding. What happened there?”

His lower lip trembles and he can’t look at her. Pudding must have really messed him up too.

“She… she was so sweet at first…”

“I know exactly what you mean, she tricked us too.” 

“She did?”

“Oh yeah. She was super sweet and helpful when we met her. She sent us straight to the Seducing Woods, hoping that would take care of us.” Nami tsked. “She underestimated Luffy.” 

“Most people do,” he agreed. “After the fight with you and Luffy, and you telling me that we were through, I was in a pretty vulnerable spot. Pudding was supportive. She… she said she was sorry about you two getting caught up in this and that you were nice. She cried and promised that she wouldn’t make our married life awful.”

“Is that why you proposed to her?” Nami asks, eyebrow raised. She isn’t going to examine why the thought of that makes her chest tighten and her stomach nauseous, even though she knows exactly why. Now wasn’t the time to deal with that.

“Nami, when I… gave in, I truly thought that I had no other choice in the matter, and I had made the deal with Big Mom. Pudding was so sweet and kind to me, and she was the only person who understood what I was going through, since she was going through it too. I thought… I thought—”

Nami takes pity on him. “I understand. She was way too good of an actress; if I couldn’t see through it there really was no hope for you.” She combs her fingers through his hair fondly. 

He continues, distress clouding his voice. “That night, I explained that my adventures at sea were coming to an end, but it was okay because I had her. I…I… showed her my face, what it looked like after I took off Reiju’s mask, and what my brothers had done to me. I even spoke about my past.” 

Nami furrows her brow. He spoke about his past with Pudding? She chews on her lip. Pudding must have really sold the act to make him speak about that subject; he has never mentioned a word about it to her or anyone else on their crew. That funny feeling tightens her chest again and twists her stomach, and she resolutely ignores it. He’s in her arms now.

She dismisses her thoughts about Pudding and refocuses on him, as he has stopped talking. Whatever he is going to say next seems to be hard for him. She waits patiently for him to collect himself. 

“The night before the wedding, I made some food and took it to her room. I thought maybe we could talk and just, get to know each other better before the wedding. I felt like she was the only good thing about all of this and maybe my life could still turn out okay, since she was so much nicer than everyone else. I figured Big Mom was holding you and Luffy until after I married her, and then she’d let you two go, per our deal.” 

His eyes get that faraway vacant look, and she subconsciously hugs him tighter, like she can protect him from whatever it is he’s about to relive. 

“Her door homie refused me entry so I went around to her window. I heard her talking to someone; turns out it was Reiju. Pudding had shot her with some specialized bullets and Reiju was injured.”

He breaths out, shaky and defeated.  

“She…. She mocked me. Mocked me for everything I said to her, laughed at the way my face looked after my brothers beat me, that the proposal was pathetic and it was insulting they didn’t even send a proper prince, and she would never marry someone like me, just… I don’t want to repeat it, Nami, I…”

Fury ignites in her chest. She wasn’t the biggest fan of Pudding prior to this, even after her assistance with Big Mom, but this makes her livid on his behalf. “I’m so sorry she did that to you,” Nami says, holding him close. The pain on his face breaks her heart. “You never deserved to be treated that way.” 

His eyes water and he blinks the tears away to continue. “She told Reiju their plans to kill me right after the vows, and then they’d take out the Vinsmokes too. She was so delighted about it all, like killing me at my own… shotgun wedding was some big joke.” He closes his eyes. “It was shocking to find out that everyone was anticipating my death like some sick form of entertainment. In my worst moments I thought about just letting her do it.” 

“Sanji.” Nami presses his face to her chest, over her heart. She catches a stray tear that drips down his cheek. 

“If she said all those horrible things, how could you be so nice to her at the end?” She sighs and answers her own question. “You are the kindest person I’ve ever known, that’s how, isn’t it.” 

“I didn’t have the heart to be mean to her. Turns out she was just as much a victim of Big Mom’s meddling as I was. I think she had a rough time with her third eye, it seemed there was history there. She actually is a sweet girl, um, sometimes. But it wasn’t meant to be, thankfully.” 

It is just like him to give her so much grace. Nami can’t get past the sneering tone in Pudding’s voice when she told her and Luffy how she had conned them, and how helpless she felt being imprisoned in that book, unable to save him from his horrible fate, orchestrated by Big Mom and Pudding herself. The things Pudding said about him are unforgivable in her mind. 

“I am so, so glad we were able to rescue you,” she says, pressing her lips to the crown of his head. 

“Me too.” His arms wrap tightly around her waist as he listens to her heartbeat. 

She lets him lapse into silence, and she continues to run her fingers through his hair, comforting him as best she can and hoping the support she’s offering is enough. 

He has to admit, his heart feels a little lighter after confiding in her and she has shown nothing but concern for him. He is relieved to be back in the arms of the people who care about him and maybe it really will be possible to put the whole nightmare behind him. 

He focuses on her touch. The gentle repetitive motion of her fingers soothe along his scalp. Her other hand rubs his back. His body is tucked against hers, she is so soft and the heat from her skin against his melts the anxious ice in his chest. His nose is buried in her lovely hair, scented like her citrus and floral shampoo. Her legs intertwine with his like they were meant to be tangled together. He hasn’t felt this kind of peace in a long time; finally his nervous system lets him have a reprieve in Nami’s arms. He holds her like a lifeline. 

“Sanji?” she says, so softly. “I know this is a hard thing to ask, but will you tell me about your past? About your childhood?” 

He freezes. The cozy comfort he had just been indulging in is washed away, as if doused with a bucket of cold sea water. 

“No pressure of course, but I promise I won’t do what Pudding did to you.” Her hands are extra soothing and she gives him an encouraging cuddle, mindful of the bruises on his torso. 

The panic immediately floods back into his chest. Whether from Pudding or some messed up fight or flight response, he doesn’t know, but she is asking for something he’s not sure he can give. He handed it right to Pudding willingly, like a naive little idiot, and now he will be much more careful with who he lets into his world. 

It isn’t fair to Nami. It’s not her fault, but now he has to deal with that particular baggage. 

He feels so broken. 

“How about, I ask a question and you answer? You can choose how much or how little you want to say,” she suggests. 

He mulls this over for several long moments. She waits patiently, never stopping the comforting motion of her hands. In the same way he knew exactly how she would respond to his stunt with Luffy, she knows exactly how to wrap him around her little finger. 

He responds to both affection and physical touch, but physical touch is more effective. It’s why she wanted to cuddle with clothing removed in the first place; he craves intimacy, and the more comforted he feels the more he’ll talk. The most intimate experience is skin on skin and it’s the key to unlocking him. 

She brushes her fingers along his jaw and under his chin, reminiscent of the first time they met at the Baratie and she accurately guessed that a little flirty finesse would score her free food. They’ve always been revolving around each other, and they know each other so well after all this time. 

Her move works exactly as intended and he caves. 

“Okay.”

Chopper and Brook turn their heads, hearing her panicked tone across the court yard. Chopper fights off a handful of Marines, tossing them aside, and immediately lumbers toward them.

“What happened?” Chopper asks, seeing the tears in Nami’s eyes.

“He was shot,” Nami says, opening his shirt to show Chopper the blood, her fingers still covering the wound underneath his left collarbone.

“I’m fine, it’s not that bad,” Sanji coughs stubbornly, not sounding the least bit convincing, but he doesn’t try to get up again. “A single bullet isn’t going to take me out. I can still fight.”

“That looks bad to me, Sanji. You should not fight in this condition,” Chopper says bluntly. He looks over at Nami. “I need to get him back to the Sunny before he bleeds out. If he loses too much, he has a rare blood type and we probably won’t find a donor, especially when this island is occupied by Marines.”

Nami gasps. “Is he gonna be alright?”

“Depends on what it hit in there,” Chopper says grimly. “It looks high enough that it might not have punctured his lungs, but I won’t know for sure until I examine him. I can do some minor surgical procedures, but I’m not a surgeon like Law is, so this could be really bad.”

In his heavy point form, he picks up Sanji and tries not to jostle him, instructing Nami to keep applying pressure as best she can when they run.

She peeks out the opening of the alley, spying the clouds she made, ready to strike. Staying between the buildings, she calls down the lightning with her free hand, satisfied when it takes out a bunch of Marines, including the bastard who shot at her.

“Brook!” Chopper shouts. “Can you back us up?”

“Leave the rest to me, my friend! There’s only a few left to contend with. Nami, take care of Sanji,” Brook calls, nodding firmly at her. “I can handle things here.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, sprinting alongside Chopper as they make a getaway to the island’s harbor where the Sunny is docked.

Nami sniffles as Chopper takes Sanji to his office and has her wait outside. She feels helpless, sinking to her knees and rubbing her face with shaky hands, unaware she is smearing his blood across her cheeks. She hates losing her composure like this, but survivor’s guilt squeezes her heart. She would be the one lying on Chopper’s infirmary bed right now if not for Sanji.

Why did he do that? He just appeared out of nowhere and took the bullet meant for her without a single nanosecond of hesitation. Sanji makes grandiose declarations of love to her all the time, but she never takes him quite seriously, not to this extent. He fawns over every pretty girl he comes across; Nami just dismisses his behavior as Sanji being Sanji.

Still, they have grown closer since the crew came back together; she spends more time with him than she does anyone else on the ship. The more they hang out with just the two of them, the more he treats her like a friend and less like an object of his desire. He still does considerate things for her like always, but it’s casual, more meaningful to her than all the exuberant gestures.

She can pinpoint exactly when the nature of their friendship changed. She lost a drinking contest with Zoro (so stupid, she should’ve known better, he beat her by one shot) and the bet was doing the dishes for a week (the literal worst punishment Zoro could think of, since the loser would be forced to have extended contact with the stupid cook). Said cook was overjoyed at having her undivided attention for an entire week, not to mention help with all the dishes, and Nami sucked it up because a bet was a bet.

What she didn’t expect was to enjoy Sanji’s company as much as she did. She used to cook for the boys prior to Sanji joining the crew, so she knew her way around a kitchen, but she found it fun to learn new techniques from him as he prepared food for everyone. He helped with the dishes too, and even told her he would do them all anyway and he’d lie if Zoro ever asked. Nami had too much pride for that, but it was nice that he dried the dishes for her.

After the week was up, Sanji was quiet and subdued on the last day of her bet imposed kitchen duty. It wasn’t any sort of secret that he cared about her (but not more than any other pretty girl he comes across… right?) and she even found herself sad about the end of the arrangement.

The bright smile on Sanji’s face rivaled the sun when she turned up the next day. She made up some ridiculous excuse to be there and Sanji wholeheartedly accepted it without acknowledging Nami’s thinly veiled attempt to spend more time in the kitchen. She had to admit that was pretty smooth of him.

Nami isn’t sure why Sanji’s behavior toward beautiful women is… the way it is, but once he calmed down and had more normal conversations with her, his good qualities were able to shine. He is charming, down to earth, clever and quick-witted. It’s not that she didn’t recognize these qualities about him previously, but it was easy to dismiss them underneath his more extreme tendencies.

In the past it frustrated her when he acted like he couldn’t see anything other than her pretty exterior, but once she experienced his actual personality, appreciating his pretty exterior quickly followed.

Anyone with eyes would say that Sanji is objectively handsome (if he doesn’t open his stupid mouth), but after their friendship blossomed she started noticing butterflies in her stomach when he’d look at her with more than surface level infatuation. Sometimes when he’d say her name, in a serious tone, shivers would race down her spine.

It infuriated her at first. She wasn’t supposed to develop a crush, especially not on Sanji of all people! How the hell was she supposed to navigate this? So he made her laugh a few times and his fingers brushed hers as he accepted wet dishes to dry and he didn’t use that goofy over-the-top voice when he said her name once in the past week. It didn’t mean anything!

So what if she spends more time in the kitchen with him, chatting and drawing maps at the table while he simmers and sautés.

So what if she finds herself sitting next to him more often, seeking him out instead of avoiding him, laughing at his jokes rather than rolling her eyes. Blushing when he catches her gaze and smiles at her.

Now, he is behind the door bleeding out in Chopper’s office after protecting her.

It isn’t the first time he has done something like this. On Skypiea, he stayed behind alone and allowed Enel to attack him so she and Usopp could escape.

Chopper told her how he attempted to save her from that sham wedding on Thriller Bark while she was unconscious; no wonder Absalom was so easy to defeat when she woke up. She also discovered that Sanji took a knife to the back for her during that fight. He never breathed a word to her that any of it had occurred, if not for Chopper she would have never known.

This confuses her, wouldn’t he brag about it if he were trying to score points with her? A lesser man definitely would have.

How many other times has he done things for her when she wasn’t aware?

She still gets the chills thinking about the incident just a few days ago when Sanji arrived just in time to save her from Doflamingo. The look on his face in what could have been his last moments as he told her and the rest of the crew to flee makes her heart ache. If not for Law’s sudden appearance to whisk Sanji away using his devil fruit powers, she shudders to think about the gruesome ways Doflamingo could have killed him with his ruthless strings.

Out of all of them, he is the most concerned crewmate over her safety and wellbeing at all times. How could she have possibly known his priorities were deeper than the shallow assumption he just thinks she is hot?

Nami knows she is beautiful, she receives attention from the opposite sex all the time. She didn’t think Sanji’s intentions were any more noble than some drunk scallywag at the bar and she’s heard every line imaginable.

Except those drunk scallywags aren’t taking bullets for her.

Or keeping an eye on her every battle to ensure she makes it to the other side unharmed.

Sanji brings her tea and the new tangerine dessert he has been perfecting just for her, forgoing his own sleep and keeping her company while she works on maps late into the night, when he normally rises at dawn for breakfast prep.

Sanji serves her food and drink that he’s made specially for her, that he’s spent hours creating, completely to her personal tastes. It’s always fantastic.

Sanji shows up in her dreams lately, a phantom lover in passionate embraces that leave her aching between her thighs when she awakes.

Those ones rattle her the most, her subconscious forcing her to acknowledge what her heart (and other parts of her) already knows. Nami is pragmatic and strategic, self sufficient and confident. She doesn’t need a man, the very idea is preposterous.

…But what if she wants one? She would die before she let a man dictate her life ever again (captain’s orders an exception, of course, she is a pirate after all) but Sanji is different than most men.

If she told him to jump he’d ask how high. If she wanted his companionship he’d stay at her side faithfully, if she requested anything of him he’d put forth his whole self to fulfill it.

He is a bit of a flirt and a skirt chaser, which has been a detriment to giving him a chance, but she’s positive she could refocus all that energy so he’s only flirting and chasing her skirt. She has to admit he treats her differently. He might lose his composure around beautiful women but there’s another level in his devotion to her.

If she is truly honest with herself, she enjoys all the attention he gives her, even when he’s being silly. He’s told her she’s special, more than once. He could be given a chance to prove it…

She stands up on shaky legs and heads to the bathroom in a daze to wash his blood off her trembling hands. He doesn’t need to prove anything, he already has. He proves it again and again day after day that he is a good man.

Sanji is known for his kindness and refuses to harm women. He would do anything to protect the ones he loves; he even protects total strangers sometimes who don’t deserve it. Nami admires that about him, even if it distresses her when he puts himself in harm’s way.

It takes a close call to remind her they don’t have all the time in the world and there are no certainties in the life of a pirate, especially in the New World. Luffy is a top target of the Marines and other pirates; they are guaranteed to have tough battles ahead.

In the mirror she touches the splatter of his blood blending in with the freckles on her cheeks and the tears pool in her eyes again. She’s reminded of all the selfless things he’s done for her, for their crew, for all the people they’ve saved, and wonders why she didn’t allow herself to see this sooner.

Self-preservation and elective solitude make for a lonely coping method. If she doesn’t get close to people, then they don’t need to die for her.

Sanji doesn’t seem to have any self-preservation at all, and his chain smoking habit in response to stress is even less healthy than her coping method. He’s doing worse than she is and it worries her.

Nami has all the confidence and faith in herself, and a strong sense of self-worth. It’s how she survives. Sanji seems like he has confidence, but some of his personality traits betray that notion. Nami hasn’t really thought deeply about it before, but in light of the situation going down in Chopper’s office, Sanji might have way more going on under the surface than she realized.

It’s troublesome… she knows with absolute certainty that every Straw Hat would do what it takes to save their crewmates, but there’s a difference in how Sanji seems to sacrifice himself so willingly.

It’s a conversation they need to have. Why doesn’t he regard his own safety, why is he so quick to throw his own life away for the sake of others?

The thought of losing him devastates her. She didn’t realize it, but he has become one of her closest friends. Moving on without him is not an option.

She cleans the last traces of his blood from her skin and tries to tamp down on her distress; Chopper is an excellent doctor and Sanji is in the best hands (hooves) possible.

She checks in on Momonosuke and Caesar, who appear to have fallen asleep while they were watching over the Sunny as the Straw Hats went into town. She takes her place guarding the door to Chopper’s office, lonely and forlorn while she looks around his empty kitchen, where he normally would be right now serving dinner. She hugs her knees, hearing Chopper’s hooves clack on the floor as he works. She loses track of time, lost in her tumultuous thoughts as the daylight fades to dark, but finally Chopper emerges.

She stands up too quickly and wobbles on her feet, using the wall to stabilize herself. “How is he?” she asks, her voice tight.

Chopper looks weary and his hooves are covered in blood, but he gives Nami a small reassuring smile.

“Thankfully the bullet missed his lungs. I’ve controlled the bleeding, he’ll be alright as long as he doesn’t develop an infection. He’s still under a mild sedative right now, but you can go and see him if you want.”

Nami breathes a huge sigh of relief and gives Chopper a grateful hug. “Thank you for saving him.”

The lights are dim as Nami enters, approaching the bed where Sanji lies motionless, his face pale and his breathing raspy. His top half is bare aside from the dressings Chopper applied.

Chopper had clearly focused on getting the wound under control rather than clean up, because a decent amount of blood is still smeared all over Sanji’s chest. Nami’s heart pains at the sight of it, every drop spilled a love letter to her survival.

Chopper comes back with wet towels, intending to finish handling the blood. Nami offers to do it and Chopper hands over the towels without saying a word, quietly closing the door behind him. She begins wiping Sanji’s skin, careful not to disturb the bandages. She tenderly brushes some of his hair out of his eyes.

Sanji stirs, and his hand reaches up and grabs her wrist. “Nami…”

She stops. “You’re awake, huh. You… you absolute idiot,” she admonishes, voice wobbly and eyes watery with tears. “Why did you do that? You are so lucky it didn't hit your lungs or your heart. You could’ve died, Sanji!”

His voice is gravelly, his eyes still closed, but he answers. “Would rather die than live in a world without you.”

Nami’s heart skips a beat, and she slides her hand into Sanji’s. Her fingers are still trembling, his grip is loose and she notes his fingers are cold. “Don’t say something like that! You shouldn’t… you shouldn’t have taken that shot for me, how do you think I’d feel losing you?!”

“There is never a universe in which I’d let you take a hit if I could prevent it. I want you to live.”

The tears break free and streak down her face. “I want you to live too, stupid!” She clenches his hand. “You’re not even thinking about how I’d feel if you died for me, right in front of me. If I had to go through life with the burden on my heart that I’m still here and you’re gone. You can’t be so reckless like that, not when I— I care about you too much.”

Oh these are big feelings she is feeling, ones she isn’t ready to face just yet.

He cracks open his eyes and turns his head to look at her. “I’ll lay down my life for you a thousand times, Nami. That’s just the way it is.”

“Stop, you deserve to live too, you can’t just throw your life away for me. We need you. I need you.”

She gasps at her own admission, clutching Sanji’s hand to her chest.

Her words echo into the silence that follows. She sniffles.

Sanji doesn’t say anything, but gently tugs her hand. She crawls onto the bed with him, burying her face into his uninjured shoulder. He places a soft kiss into her hair.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“Always, Nami,” he answers quietly.

She can’t help it, tears leak down her cheek and drop onto his skin.

He wipes them from her cheekbone with his thumb. “Don’t cry for me, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Sanji. We could’ve lost you.” She’s overwhelmed and her emotions are a jumbled mess. She doesn’t know how to convey that this whole experience has triggered so much more in her than concern over an injury, that one gunshot shattered the bottle she stores her deep dark griefs in and she’s left looking at all the spilled carnage. It’s him, it’s the way this situation eerily parallels her past, it’s everything all rolled into one emotional lump catching in her throat.

“Nami, we would’ve lost you,” his voice cracks. “I’ve never had this happen before but I saw it. It would’ve killed you and even just the sight of that possibility will haunt me forever. I wasn’t close to you, I was even further away from the gunman, all I could do was skywalk as fast as I could to push you aside and pray that it would be enough.”

Fear creeps through her chest and her arm tightens around his waist; she forgot Sanji has observation haki. While she can’t fathom how it works, it’s sobering to hear his account, knowing that she truly would’ve been killed and Sanji saw it happen in his mind.

She lays her hand flat on his chest over his sternum, feeling his heart beat underneath her palm and she’s overwhelmed with gratitude that it’s still ticking and he’s alive and there isn’t even a scratch on her body due to his sacrifice. She props herself up on her elbow to gaze into his face and a stray tear sneaks down her cheek.

She can’t think of anything else except conveying how thankful she is to him, how much she appreciates him.

Before she can talk herself out of it, she leans forward and impulsively presses her lips to his. He freezes, shocked at first and not expecting it. It takes him a moment to react and she almost falters, but just before she can pull away he kisses her back. His fingers cup the nape of her neck and his thumb rests on her cheekbone as her hair cascades down to the pillow around them. His lips are soft against hers but just a hint chilled, the scruff of his beard brushes against her chin, and Nami feels a pleasant tingle spread through her chest.

She may have started the kiss but Sanji leads it, her head growing fuzzy as his mouth moves against hers with the perfect amount of pressure, and the longer he captures her the less she wants the kiss to end. She wants more.

She opens her mouth a bit and lets her tongue run against his lower lip, their breaths mingling together. That is all it takes, the passion ignites like gunpowder. The kiss ramps up into a heated exchange; she grants him access and his tongue meets hers. They break apart to catch their breath, panting and diving back in together.

She slides her fingers into his hair, his fingertips sink into her waist. At some point she straddles his hips to get a better angle and he grips her thighs tightly. His hands creep up to the hem of her skirt and she places her palms on his stomach.

She honestly can’t remember ever sharing a kiss this good, tingles sparkling in her fingertips, her toes, her teeth, her swollen lips. Primal urges take over higher thought and her hips rock into him. He groans into her mouth and bucks his own hips into her involuntarily, then hisses as the abrupt movement tugs at his wound.

Nami sits up with a flurry of apologies, fussing over his bandage. He tells her not to worry about it, clearly looking to start back up where they left off, just in case she changes her mind.

He squeezes her thighs and she’s pleased to feel his hands have warmed up some, no longer chilly like they were before.

“Am I dreaming? Did I actually die and go to heaven?”

She laughs at his comment, leaning down and resting her face in the crook of his neck. He smells so good, a hint of leftover cologne under his jaw and she inhales it, peppering kisses along his throat. His hands map her sides, running along the dip of her waist and over the curve of her hips.

She travels back to his mouth for more kisses, not having her fill of him yet, and he enthusiastically responds. Satisfaction and a sense of peace floods her chest, resting behind her sternum. Something she had been missing clicks into place, the resolution to all those spicy dreams she’s been having lately.

She surfaces for air, panting heavily, and their gazes meet. She smiles, but he doesn’t. Instead he reaches for a lock of hair, tucking it behind her ear.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

That kind of compliment, coming from him… A shiver slinks down her spine. Serious Sanji is doing all sorts of things for her, and she wishes he had been this way from the start, it wouldn’t have taken them so long to get here.

“Sanji,” she says softly. His hand cups her cheek, and she tilts her head into it. “You sure it’s not just the sedatives talking,” she tries to joke.

“I’d never lie to you.” Not even a hint of a smirk on his face, he is completely serious. “Every day I get to spend with you is the happiest day of my life.”

“Okay, don’t over do it,” she says with a smile, shaking her head.

Sanji turns his face from her with a small sigh and closes his eyes. When he opens them, his gaze is far away. “I know you don’t understand, but it’s the truth. I’ve never been happier than being a part of this crew. Especially with you.”

Nami ponders on that as he looks deep in thought. She doesn’t know much about his life prior to meeting him at the Baratie, and the crew was only filled in on how he and Zeff came to be, which was tragic enough. It seems there may be more lurking in his past than he has shared.

She can’t blame him though. The Straw Hat Crew has given each of them a chance to forge a new path, and redefine what family means to them. Each and every one of them trusts the crew with their lives, but pasts have a way of coming back to haunt them. If Sanji doesn’t want to divulge details about his life prior to the Baratie he doesn’t have to, but it piques her curiosity. What has he suffered through?

“Hey,” she says quietly, to get his attention. “Are you okay?”

He turns his head back to her, and a serene smile appears on his lips. “I’m just glad I’m here with you.”

She gives him a sweet, slow kiss. “I’m glad you’re here, too,” she says, fondly rubbing her hand on his chest. As she leans in for another kiss, the door opens. Nami gasps and sits up.

“Nami! What are you doing on top of Sanji, he needs to rest!” Chopper exclaims, hurrying in.

Scarlet floods Nami’s face at being caught, but Chopper is so innocent he doesn’t seem to realize what he’s intruded upon. She sheepishly gets down from her perch.

Chopper surveys Sanji’s chest. “Were you trying to clean him up? He’s still got blood on him.”

“Oh, yeah! I was just trying to finish,” Nami says casually, and Sanji flashes her an incredulous look behind Chopper’s back. She picks up a towel and wipes at him, a little brisker than necessary.

Sanji grimaces and bares it, giving Chopper a painful smile and a thumbs up. “Don’t worry, Chopper, Nami is the best nurse I could ever ask for! Ow, watch it!”

“Can it, you’re fine you big baby!”

Chopper watches this exchange with a blank expression as Nami slaps Sanji’s hand out of the way. He grins. “Okay well looks like you’ve got things handled in here! Brook has returned and he’s got our stuff too, so we’re going to set sail. Sanji, I want you to stay in my office overnight so I can monitor you. I’m sure you’ll be fine but I also want to manage your pain. Hopefully we don’t have trouble in the next few days because this type of wound needs down time to recover. You’ll be prone to infection and that is bad news.”

Sanji frowns. “What about dinner, I can’t let the crew go without eating something—”

“I can cook for everyone,” Nami says. “Don’t worry about it, Sanji.”

“We’re fine for tonight, Brook picked up some hot food before he left town.” Chopper turns to Nami. “Franky built in some cots in that storage closet over there for multiple patients. You could sleep on one, if you want to keep Sanji company.”

Nami considers his offer. “Thanks, I’ll take a look.”

“Get some rest, both of you!” Chopper says as he leaves and closes the door.

“You don’t need a cot,” Sanji says immediately. “This is big enough for two.”

“And what if Chopper comes back,” Nami smiles. She switches to a clean towel and continues to wipe up the rest of the blood on his chest, more tenderly this time.

“He’ll have no idea. Make something else up, he’ll probably believe it.”

She finishes with one last swipe of the towel, placing the soiled ones in the sink and running cold water over them. “You’re terrible,” she chuckles, coming back to his side.

“You’re also better at lying than I am.” He takes her hand in his and gently pulls. “Come back to bed, Nami.”

A thrill of pleasure swoops between her legs at his sultry tone and she allows him to tug her back onto the bed with him. He lays his head on her chest, and she runs her fingers through his hair, soft and slow, as his head rises and falls with her steady breathing.

There are so many worse ways this day could have turned out; she would have been gone in a shotgun flash if not for the man cuddled up with her. Nami knows she isn’t good at expressing her more vulnerable emotions and she keeps her heart guarded closely to her chest. Sanji wears all his emotions on his sleeve, even when he’s stoic and silent, and maybe she could learn a thing or two from him.

There is one last lingering thing that burns in her chest, something she can’t ignore. She could leave all this alone, act like nothing happened tomorrow and go back to status quo in their friendship. The hurt on his face would be awful to bear, but she could do it, for her own self preservation. She doesn’t want to, she wants to give this a try, she really does, but she needs reassurance.

“Sanji…”

“What is it?” He sounds satisfied and sleepy. The sedative must still be circulating in his system. That or he’s quite comforted with how close his face is to her chest currently.

“If we… if you and me are…” How does she word this without sounding ridiculously insecure. She’s the least insecure person alive, but this one thing…

“If we are?”

She sighs, impatient with herself. Just get on with it. “If you and I become a thing, I don’t like to share. Can you control yourself?”

Sanji’s eyebrows raise. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

“Yes. Answer the question.”

“Nami.” He tries to lean up on his elbow to face her, but that is a bad idea. He falls back, mutters an expletive, and instead guides her face with a hand on her cheek to look her in the eyes. “I swear to you, there is no woman on this earth that could separate me from you. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“You understand why I’m asking, don’t you?”

“I do. And I’m telling you, I have no need for anyone other than you, if you’ll have me.”

She reiterates one more time. “I’m just making sure. You’re notorious, you know that, right?”

Sanji grins sheepishly. “That’s because I haven’t been locked down yet, I have no need for a wandering eye if it’s focused on you.”

Nami gives him a half-lidded stare. “Fishman Island.”

Sanji winces. “Okay… that’s not fair.”

“I’m not going to tolerate shenanigans. And you are the king of shenanigans.”

“I will happily give up my crown, Nami-swan. I swear my loyalty to you, my queen.” He kisses the back of her hand for good measure.

“Okay, don’t get cheesy with it,” she laughs, rolling her eyes. “If you promise—”

“I promise on my life.”

“Yeah, I can definitely see that,” she deadpans, shaking her head. “You saved my life today, and I am so grateful for that. If you hadn’t done what you did, this could’ve had a terrible outcome, and we are so lucky that it all turned out okay. But… I can’t watch another person I care about die for me, right in front of my eyes. I want us both to be okay and I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself so easily. Please Sanji, stay alive for me.” She clutches his hand as she pleads, tears collecting in the corner of her eyes.

Belle-mère.

By the light of recognition in Sanji’s eyes, it seems he understands perfectly. “Nami… yes. I get it. I won’t be reckless in the future. I want every minute I have to live this life with you.” He squeezes her hand back.

“Good,” she whispers. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” he answers. He gently pulls her in for a kiss, like sealing an oath, one they both know he won’t be able to keep. For now, she lets it rest and stays in the moment, because it’s all they have.

Sanji lays his head back down on her chest and she resumes carding her fingers through his soft hair. It doesn’t take long for both of them to drift off peacefully.

The door creaks open and Chopper checks in on his patient. Sanji has some color back in his cheeks, his stitches look good and his bandages have minimal blood on them so there’s no need to wake him.

Chopper fetches a blanket from the linen closet and covers them up, to keep them warm. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“It’s about time, you two. Looks like Zoro is gonna owe Robin some money.”

—————-

Just wanted to mention that I took a little artistic liberty with Sanji’s observation haki. I was thinking something similar occurred like when Luffy saw that Mihawk would cut off his hands in Marineford and he changed his attack.

Also, it would be wild to contemplate how Whole Cake Island would go if Sanji and Nami had started a relationship right before it. “I don’t want to lose you” - “You won’t” OUCH. They have no idea what’s coming 🥲