He rides into town on a Thursday. His hat pulled low, his shadow stretching long in the late afternoon sun as his horse kicks up clouds of dust. A cowboy returning after months on the trail.
Though he can picture it easily, Sanji doesn't doesn't actually see him coming. He's busy pouring drinks and bussing the tables at the saloon, so the only travelers he sees are the worn out, dusty people who come trudging in through the batwing doors at the front of the shabby little shack that dares to call itself a dining establishment (the only one in town, which as far as Sanji's concerned, is the only reason it got business before he was hired).
Sanji doesn't see him come into town, but he does see him walk into the saloon. The batwing doors swing open, light pouring into the dim space. Sanji sees the familiar smile, and for a moment, it seems like the whole room brightens.
"Howdy, stranger."
"Usopp!" Sanji wants to grab him up in a hug. Instead, he settles for a small smile. "Well, look at what the cat dragged in."
It's been almost two months since Sanji last saw him. Usopp frequents the saloon as often as he can between trips, but he's often on the road, herding cattle or goats.
Usopp walks over and finds a seat at the counter. His stride is easy; despite his difficult and dangerous work, he is not as worn or beaten down as most of the patrons who pass through this saloon. His eyes shine in the lights over the bar.
"I would have been back sooner, but I was waylaid by all kinds of miscreants and varmints."
"Oh?" Sanji hums, wiping a glass. Usopp has a glint in his eyes, and that was a lead in to a story if Sanji ever heard one.
"Yes, it was terrible. Must have been something in the water, that or a lot of rustlers out there heard of my reputation from afar and decided to test their luck. Not two days into my journey, a gang of thirty bandits appeared to ambush me. Luckily, I had my trusty slingshot in hand!"
He holds up his slingshot. It's an odd weapon, small, worn, and at first glance, not very threatening. But Sanji has seen Usopp shoot the whiskers off a mountain lion with that thing, and knows it's a formidable weapon in the right hands.
"It's lighter than a gun, and I don't have to pay for bullets," Usopp once told him proudly.
As someone who fights almost exclusively with his feet, Sanji cannot judge.
"I started shooting. Down they went, one after another. I took out about half of them when, horror of horrors, I ran out of ammo!"
Usopp recounts how he leapt for cover, and using his wits, found a way to harvest barrel cactus and launch them at the bandits until they left, screaming and running for the hills.
"And that was just the first thing that happened."
Sanji smiles. He knows that at least four fifths of what Usopp tells him isn't true. Usopp isn't some well known adventurer. Usopp has been hard at work herding cows and goats at half the pay most men get. He journeys back and forth across dangerous stretches of land, certainly — predators, inhospitable landscapes, and bandits abound — but his travels are probably not nearly as exciting as he makes them out to be. All the same, Sanji likes Usopp's stories. He likes the way Usopp dreams so big, and he likes this bright spot of happiness in the rather dreary life he's found himself in.
"Before I tell you the rest of my adventures, there was something I wanted to ask you about…"
Usopp is interrupted by the saloon doors slamming open.
Three men walk in. Sanji can tell just by the way they walk that these men are trouble. They move with a swagger, carrying themselves with a kind of supercilious certainty that says they think they're the biggest fish in this dried up pond. No one's ever knocked them on their asses before.
If they start any trouble, Sanji will be happy to change that.
Two of them head toward the bar while the third splits off to find a table.
"Barkeep," the man in the lead acknowledges Sanji. "We'll take three bottles of your best," the man pulls back his sleeve some, revealing a strange, curling tattoo on his forearm like it's supposed to mean something to Sanji. "On the house."
Three bottles? Who the hell do these big shots think they are?
"No tabs, no freebies. We take payment upfront." This place is a waypoint for travelers of all stripes; it's too easy to take off without ever paying the bill, so Sanji's boss demands he take payment before serving any drinks (Sanji will never tell him about the food he hands out to starving travelers without taking a cent).
The smug expression on the big shot's face melts a bit at Sanji's curt response. Out of the corner of his eye, Sanji sees Usopp smile into his drink.
"Do you know who I work for?" The man asks.
"No."
"In these parts he's called Mr. Zero, and he won't be too happy about you not…"
"Don't care."
"Listen pal, I'm one of the Baroque Works' millions, one of the best prospects for becoming a Frontier Agent…"
"Meaning you're not a Frontier Agent," whatever that means, "so you're not important?"
The smug expression is completely gone.
Usopp bites his lip, clearly resisting the urge the urge to either laugh or add his own commentary.
The second man, scowling, butts in. "Just give us what we're owed, smartass."
"Why didn't you just say so?" Sanji grabs two glasses and an open, half empty bottle from the lower shelf. He pours it, and drops the drinks on the bar.
"Here," he says gruffly.
"That's it? I tell you Mr. Zero's my boss and this is what you give me?"
"His name doesn't buy much around here," Sanji says. "You want the good stuff you'll have to pay for it."
The men glare, and Sanji glares back. Sanji may be more than willing to bend on food, but these bastards are neither hungry nor pleasant. This far West, most name drops are empty threats as far as Sanji's concerned.
"You're lucky I'm busy today," the first swine says. "Otherwise you'd regret this."
Ssanji resists the urge to roll his eyes.
They take the drinks, and they make their way to the table at the back of the saloon, where a pretty young woman Sanji made note of earlier sits with the third of their number. Sanji hopes he read them right, and they won't try giving her any of that nasty swill.
"Real amicable, aren't they?" Usopp remarks. "I'm surprised you served them anything."
"It's just some shitty, bottom shelf swill that tastes more like piss than alcohol. I should have dumped it ages ago," Sanji says.
"Guess you were saving it for the right occasion," Usopp says. "A man is what he eats, after all. Or drinks, in this case."
Sanji smiles around his cigarette, unable to help the amused huff.
Usopp looks pleased. He seems to enjoy doing his best to make Sanji laugh.
Another man comes in, then a married couple after him, and then the miners in the corner call for a refill. Sanji serves them drinks. He and Usopp trade jokes while he works, Usopp idly offering anecdotes about his time on the road as Sanji passes to and fro. When things finally slow down again, Sanji picks up a rag to wipe down the bar counter (an excuse to be standing by Usopp, should the saloon owner peek his head in).
"About what I was trying to say earlier," Usopp says. His voice is quieter, more serious than his story telling voice. "You remember what we talked about? Right before I left?"
"Yeah," Sanji says, scrubbing the counter a little harder than necessary. Sanji remembers that night under the stars.
Sanji had followed Usopp to his campsite just outside of town. It was not the first time. Usually, they stayed up late into the night, sitting around the fire talking, laughing, and drinking, accompanied by the sounds of crickets and the occasional song from Usopp's worn guitar. Enjoying each other's company away from prying eyes. This last time, their rendezvous started similarly, but took a much more serious turn than before.
They talked for hours. Sanji told Usopp about Zeff and the Baratie, and leaving to go west and seek his destiny. Forced out, more like. Love and a debt were the reasons Sanji stayed, and love and a shared dream were the reasons Zeff made him go.
"Old man had to pry me out with a crowbar," he said around a sip of whiskey.
Sanji didn't normally open up to anyone like this, but somehow, telling Usopp about his life was the easiest thing in the world. Sanji told him things he's only ever told one other person.
Dreams about the ocean. About traveling from sea to sea, learning recipes from all over, and someday settling down to build his own restaurant.
Sanji told him things he's never told anyone else.
About running out of money and getting stuck in this dirty crossroads, slowly watching his dream dry up and turn to dust, the way so many of the towns out here do.
Usopp told Sanji things too. Not his usual tall tales of heroism and adventure, but the small, true stories of a boy who grew up alone. Father gone before he was seven, mother dead of consumption not long after. A village that scorned his lineage, his stories, his dreams.
"I left," Usopp whispered. He was leaning against Sanji by then; neither of them had drank enough to warrant it, but Sanji let him stay. "My only friend gave me a horse and I left to go on an adventure, like the stories in my books. Like my dad."
He'd been somber since their conversation took this turn, a tremor in his voice as he recounted his mother's last days (Sanji had squeezed his hand, wanting to tell him that he knew the feeling all too well, but not wanting to interrupt), but then it steadied. Strengthened.
"I'm going to do it. I don't care what anyone says, or how long it takes. I'll become a brave warrior, and travel all the lands and seas."
Usopp strummed at his guitar then, picking out a merry little ditty as if to forcibly chase away the gloom. He stopped abruptly, and surprised Sanji by turning to look him directly in the eye.
"Your dream isn't dead," he told Sanji. "It's not out of reach. You just haven't made it happen yet."
Sanji felt the dying embers of hope rekindle. Despite all his stories, all the lies he told, Usopp spoke with a certainty Sanji could feel in his bones, and Sanji felt that what he said was true. For a little while, he believed it.
They spent the night out there. The wind whistling over the prairie was cold, but underneath Usopp's blanket, Sanji was warm.
That was months ago.
"What about it?" Sanji grunts around his cigarette. Daylight had come, and with it, harsh reality. Sanji was back at the saloon, and Usopp was back on the road, working another backbreaking job just to make ends meet.
"I was on the road, and I met some people," Usopp's voice is different. This isn't one of his self aggrandizing tall tales. "There's a group looking to travel west. They're a small party, but strong. They helped me out with some trouble, and they were hoping to pick up a few more people before setting out." Usopp smiles, excitement glinting in his eyes. "Heading West is just the start. They're trying to go around the entire world, can you believe that?"
"So?"
"So they asked me to go with them."
Sanji stills. "…what did you say?"
"I said I'd join them."
Sanji's heart plummets.
Usopp's leaving, and this time for good.
No more tall tales and jokes.
No more waiting for that friendly face to coming waltzing through the saloon doors, knocking the dust off the doors and everything else in this dried up town. New adventures on his tongue, a smile just for Sanji on his lips.
No more late nights talking and laughing together under the stars.
No more Usopp.
Usopp is going to chase his dream, and Sanji will spend the rest of his days here, in this tired, dusty town, or at least until it dries up for good. Will he have enough saved up by then to buy a train ticket back East? Will he be able to admit to Zeff that he gave up?
Usopp's giving him a concerned look, so Sanji tries to pull himself together.
"When do you leave?"
"In three days. We're meeting at Loguetown before setting out, so I probably need to leave by dawn tomorrow to make it in time," Usopp says easily, not knowing how his words flay Sanji's heart. "I know it's sudden, but I really wanted to ask you if—"
"What? If I what, Usopp?" Sanji snarls.
Usopp recoils, his expression shuttering.
Sanji can't bear to look at him, already feeling shame for his tone. Usopp's dream is in his sights; Sanji can't resent him for seizing this chance. Usopp will make other friends, become close with someone kinder and better than a temperamental barkeep.
Sanji looks away. In that moment, he catches sight of the group at the back of the bar. The lady and the three men. They all look angry. The woman is talking, but the man seated in front of her, the big shot from earlier, cuts her off with a snarl. She snarls back, and the man grabs her wrist.
Sanji is not aware of moving. One second he's behind the bar, the next he's over the counter and stalking toward the group in the corner.
The men don't see him coming. Two stand over the table, looming threateningly over the seated woman, while the third, the one holding her wrist, leans in close, saying something in a low, angry voice. The woman's eyes find Sanji as he approaches. Sanji may be prone to flights of fancy, as he's been told a hundred times before, but he knows he isn't imagining the desperation in her eyes.
"Unhand the lady," Sanji says, "or I'll kick your teeth in."
The ruffians startle. Perhaps from the intense anger behind Sanji's words, or because they were not expecting him to be so close; either way, they jump, before quickly regaining enough composure to start posturing. The two goons standing over her pointedly put their hands on their holsters, while the third, the big shot from earlier, who had just been whispering to the woman, stands up.
"This ain't none of your concern," he says. Up close, his breath reeks of alcohol and rotten meat. It pisses off Sanji even more, knowing he was breathing his nasty stench all over the poor lady. He gets up in Sanji's face, poking him in the chest and blustering. "You get out of our business or we'll make sure you regret it. We're gonna—!"
Sanji tunes him out. He has no use for the words of lowlife poltroons like this. Instead, he watches the lady. She watches the men watching him, and starts to stand, hand going to her pocket as if reaching for a weapon. Sanji doesn't see what she's reaching for; one of the men catches sight of her movement, and starts to pull his gun.
Sanji explodes into motion.
He kicks the blustering big shot in the chest, sending him slamming into the gunman, and they both fly into the wall. He whips around and kicks the third man, knocking the gun out of his hand before sinking his foot into his gut. The man crumples with a wet wheezing sound.
The lady darts past Sanji. She picks up her skirts and runs, pushing her way through the small crowd of patrons who gathered at the first signs of a fight. She dashes out the door and disappears.
The other men pick themselves up. They're furious over the blows and their lost quarry. Sanji doesn't give them time to pull themselves together. He snaps out a flurry of kicks, breaking bones and loosening teeth. No one gets to harm or threaten a woman in Sanji's saloon, dammit. He sure as hell won't leave them healthy enough to give chase.
Sanji doesn't see the fourth man. He's too busy driving his heel into one ruffian's face to see what's happening across the room, and it doesn't occur to him that the trio might have an accomplice. By the time he catches the glint of light reflecting off the barrel of the gun, it's too late to move.
There's a shout, and the deafening crack of a gun going off. The backrest of a chair to Sanji's left explodes. The gunman drops his weapon and doubles over, clutching his hand and screaming. Blood drips from his hand. He's missing a finger.
Sanji stands there, fear and bewilderment rooting him to the floor. It isn't until he sees Usopp, standing by the bar with his slingshot raised to fire, that he understands what happened.
The rest of the patrons rush out of the saloon. Once bullets start flying it doesn't matter where you're standing. The gunman Usopp shot glances between Sanji, Usopp, and his compatriots on the floor, then bolts for the door.
The saloon is quiet once they're gone.
"What was all that about?" Usopp asks.
Sanji doesn't care. They had it coming, though it is possible Sanji went slightly overboard.
A hand grabs his ankle. Sanji glances down, easily stepping out of the weak grip.
"Mr. Zero is the leader of Baroque Works," the former big shot chokes out, glaring up at him. "But that woman knows who he really is, and she was too stupid to keep it to herself."
Sanji raises a foot, and the worm flinches. It's not enough to shut him up completely though.
"Crocodile," he says. "Our boss is Crocodile. Once he knows you know, he'll stop at nothing to kill you."
His head flops back and he falls unconscious.
Crocodile. These are Crocodile's men. A former big name mobster from back East. He cut a deal with the government a few years back, ratted out a few other big name mobsters to buy his own way out of jail time. Allegedly he'd gone straight, but everyone knows that's a lie.
"Crocodile? Did he say Crocodile?"
Sanji turns and finds the saloon owner standing behind them.
"You beat up Crocodile's men? Here, in my saloon?" Sanji's boss looks more afraid than angry. He's read the papers too, heard the rumors about what Crocodile does to anyone who gets in the way of his operations. If all that's said is true, Sanji just signed his own death warrant. The saloon proprietor looks at Sanji with wild eyes. "Get out. Get out of here, I won't have you bringing Crocodile's wrath down on this establishment!"
He shoves at Sanji. Cusses at him, and Usopp, who refuses to leave until Sanji does. Sanji ignores the proprietor just long enough to duck into the back room where his cot sits to grab his belongings and meager savings.
On the way out, he takes one last look at the swine he beat up. Logically speaking it's stupid, leaving them alive to go back and spill the beans to their boss, but they're unconscious and Sanji knows he doesn't have it in him to kill three defenseless men, low as they are.
He and Usopp leave the saloon for the last time.
"I wouldn't hang around town if I were you," the proprietor calls after them. "By sundown tomorrow the whole town will know what happened."
The afternoon has turned to evening, the setting sun casting the world in oranges and reds.
Sanji and Usopp walk a ways, leaving the saloon behind them. Sanji doesn't know where he's heading, but he doesn't care so long as he gets to spend a little more time by Usopp's side.
Usopp stops. Sanji stops with him, bracing himself for the goodbye.
"Sanji, about what I was saying before, about the group…"
"You're leaving," Sanji cuts him off. It's better this way. No long, drawn out goodbye. "You'll head further West with them. Good. The sooner you and your new pals clear out, the better. As for me, I'm gonna…" He hesitates. Sanji doesn't know where he's going to go. He doesn't have any plans, or friends. He can't picture a future without Usopp.
"Come with me," Usopp blurts out. He looks scared at first, scared and surprised, like he didn't expect to actually say it, or at least, say it that way. Usopp looks at Sanji, and seems to gather his courage. His expression settles into something determined. "That's what I was trying to tell you, before. Ask you. My friends need a cook, and I told them I knew just the man." He grabs Sanji's hands, holding them between them like a prayer. "Come with us! We'll disappear, go somewhere Crocodile can never find us. We'll travel the world, and someday you can start your restaurant, a real restaurant of your own, and I can, that is, if you want me…" Usopp falters, voice trailing off, like he isn't sure if he's allowed to weave their futures together so tightly.
Sanji can't stand to see Usopp's bravery falter like that. Doesn't understand how Usopp can have even a fraction of a doubt, when Sanji suddenly feels so light he could fly, all of his own fears torn away with three simple, extraordinary words. Come with me. Sanji, the elated fool that he is, can be brave for him until he finds it again.
"I want you," Sanji says, and this time he's the one who surprises himself. It's the truth. Not hidden behind harsh words, or disguised so Sanji never has to admit to himself or Usopp what he really means. Like truths shared on a moonlit night, but this time, he'll bring them into the light of day. "I'll come with you. We'll go West, and when the road runs out, you'll live with me. You'll write stories about all of our adventures, about how you became a brave explorer. You'll build things for the restaurant, and together we'll fight off anyone who tries to give us trouble."
Usopp throws his arms around Sanji. Sanji hugs him back, and swears to himself that in the future, he won't be so quick to give up on him. Not now that he knows how he feels. Now that Sanji has him in his arms.
When they let go, Usopp takes his hand and leads him to where his horse is hitched. Sanji climbs up behind him on Merry's saddle, and together, they ride off into the sunset.