Chapter Text
That night, Sanji didn’t go to the first mate’s quarters. He sat alone in the galley, nursing a cup of strong whiskey, staring at the flicker of the lantern. He thought about Zoro’s face, not the older one, the one he’d loved first. The one who’d, for possibly the first time, looked at him like he was something worth fighting for and had said the words Sanji had been craving to hear from him for years.
I think I love you.
He had someone that wanted him, held him like he was special. He knew it was temporary with Future Zoro, it was a source of comfort for them both and never meant to last, but he still knew what it was to be held like he was something precious. Now here was Zoro telling him what he had wanted to hear from him two years ago.
Sanji hated how much it still mattered to him.
~*~*~
His head was pounding when he woke up in the morning, the alcohol doing him no favors at all. He dragged himself through morning prep before trudging out to the deck to lean against the railings with a cigarette between his lips, staring out at the sun rising. Future Zoro found him there and stood at his side, the sky turning more and more blue as they watched.
“I don’t know what to do,” Sanji admitted.
“I know.”
“He said he loves me,” Sanji replied, his voice cracking on the words.
Zoro didn’t flinch or react. Sanji looked down with a sigh, taking a deep pull from his cigarette.
“I didn’t think I’d ever hear it. Not from him, not like that.”
“But you did.”
“It’s too late now.”
“Is it,” Future Zoro asked, turning to face him.
“I don’t trust him.”
“He doesn’t trust you either.”
“So what are we supposed to do with that,” Sanji retorted bitterly.
Zoro reached out, slow and careful, to brush Sanji’s hair back from his face.
“You fight. Fight for a future where you can trust your heart with him and he can trust his with you.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Sanji admitted, tears welling up in his eyes.
“You did once. You reached for him. You told him you loved him. You asked him to catch you.”
“And he didn’t.”
“Not then, but maybe now.”
“You really think he can be that person?”
“I think he wants to be,” Future Zoro reassured softly.
“And you? What do you want?”
Zoro smiled, faint and sad.
“I want you to live. I want you to be loved. I want you to be saved by someone who doesn’t wait until it’s too late, like I did.”
Sanji closed his eyes and let himself lean in, resting his forehead against Future Zoro’s, just for a moment, just until his heart settled. Zoro held him with reverence, like he understood the weight of Sanji. It wasn’t about Future Zoro claiming him, it was about allowing Sanji the space to make a choice. He still had time before he had to make a choice and so he took what comfort he could in a relationship that, ironically, was a lot less complicated than any other relationship he had nowadays.
~*~*~
Franky slammed the blueprint down on the galley table.
“It’s possible. Barely. It’s dangerous as hell, but possible.”
Robin leaned over the schematic, fingers tracing the lines.
“Temporal compression. If we can stabilize the rift long enough, he might survive the return.”
“Might,” Sanji repeated.
“Sorry, bro. No guarantees with this.”
The crew was silent for a long while.
“Will he remember us,” Luffy asked.
“It’s unlikely he’d remember this version of us or this timeline,” Robin replied.
Sanji stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed, heart sinking. He wasn’t ready to lose this.
~*~*~
The first mate’s quarters were dim. Future Zoro sat on the edge of the bed, shirt off, bandages fresh. He looked tired. Not just physically, but like he’d been carrying something too heavy for too long. Sanji closed the door behind him.
“Franky and Robin found a way to send you back to your time,” he said.
“It was bound to happen eventually.”
“You might not survive,” Sanji informed him as he sat beside him.
“That’s a risk I chose to take when I came here.”
“You won’t remember me, you won’t remember us, this.”
That fact did seem to trouble Future Zoro before he shook it loose.
“I’m happy that I got to have you at all.”
Sanji sighed, rubbing his hands over his face.
“I don’t want you to forget me,” Sanji admitted brokenly.
Zoro touched his face, fingers gentle.
“I won’t, not really. I love you, in every timeline. I just didn’t know how to say it until it was too late.”
“Say it now. Show me before you go.”
Zoro kissed him. It was slow, tender, final. They undressed without words. Their bodies met soft, aching and full of everything they couldn’t keep. Sanji traced every scar like a map. Zoro held him like he was something holy. They didn’t rush, they held each other, breath mingling, hearts breaking, bodies meeting for the last time. After, they lay tangled in silence, Sanji’s head on Zoro’s chest and Zoro’s fingers in his hair.
“I wish you were mine,” Sanji whispered.
“I am yours. I’ll always be yours. He can be yours too, if you let him,” Future Zoro advised, pressing a kiss to his temple.
Sanji snuggled deeply into his embrace, resolving to enjoy Zoro’s arms for the rest of the night before he had to go.
At dawn, the crew gathered on the deck.
Franky’s machine hummed and a rift in space and time appeared, shimmering and translucent. The air was thick with tension as Zoro — older, weary, ready — stood beside Sanji. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. Sanji gave him a long look before handing him a letter, folded and unmarked. Zoro took it and tucked it into his belt. Sanji leaned up and pressed a final kiss to Future Zoro’s cheek before he let him go. Future Zoro glanced behind him at the Strawhats, his eyes lingering on his younger self, before he nodded and stepped into the rift.
The wind howled as the rift bent and twisted before blinking out of existence. The entire process took maybe 10 seconds total, and just like that, Zoro was gone.
Sanji didn’t cry, though he felt the urge burning behind his eyes. Instead, he went to the galley and started cooking breakfast, prepping for lunch and dinner, deep cleaning the kitchen. Grief was always a strange thing and it was even stranger to be grieving the loss of a man he was never meant to have, a man who was technically still there. Sanji decided to do what he did with most turbulent emotions and work himself ragged until the thoughts stopped plaguing him.
~*~*~
The letter was folded in thirds. There was no name or seal, just a paper worn soft at the edges, tucked under Zoro’s pillow in the crow’s nest. He found it two days after the rift closed, after the older version of himself vanished. He stared at it for a long time, debating with himself, before he opened it.
You won’t remember the way he looked at you, not yet, but I do. You won’t know what it feels like to lose him, not until it’s too late. So, I’m writing this now because you still have time.
He loves you. Even when you don’t deserve it, even when you don’t see it. He loves you when you’re cruel, when you’re silent, when you walk away. And I didn’t know I loved him until I killed him. But you’re already a step ahead of me. You’ve realized how you felt and told Sanji. Don’t give up now. Don’t bury this or try to train it away until your hands bleed. Don’t tell yourself it doesn’t matter because it does.
He matters.
Zoro closed his eyes. He saw Sanji: laughing, cooking, fighting. He saw the way Sanji looked at Future Zoro, the way he touched him, the way he didn’t flinch when that Zoro walked into a room. He saw the way Sanji had looked at him, the real him, once. Before Zoro’s rejection, before their silence, before their mutual mistrust of one another, before Thriller Bark and Whole Cake. He had noticed it and dismissed it. With the benefit of hindsight, he realized now that it was the only way he wanted to be looked at by Sanji for the rest of his life.
You don’t have to love him the way I did, but I know you do. The trust between you is broken, but if there’s a chance to fix it, don’t wait.
Don’t let your pride be the thing that kills him.
~*~*~
Sanji was in the galley, slicing ginger with surgical precision. The air smelled like broth and citrus. His movements were calm and controlled. Zoro watched him from the doorway. He used to do this before Whole Cake had fractured them. He used to watch the way Sanji’s hands moved with grace and confidence. He used to wonder what he’d look like wielding a blade and then banish the thoughts when he felt heat rising to his cheeks. He was such an idiot for not seeing how he felt sooner.
“Booze is in the last cabinet on the right. Take it and go,” Sanji said, breaking through Zoro’s thoughts.
“Didn’t come for that,” Zoro replied, stepping into the room.
“Then what do you want?”
“He left a letter for me.”
Sanji’s hands stilled momentarily before he kept working with his back turned to him.
“Oh?”
“He said you still love me. Do you?” Zoro asked, stepping closer.
Sanji finally looked up at him. The cook’s eyes were conflicted, tremulous and red-rimmed. He looked tired, weary and unsure of himself. Or maybe he was just unsure of Zoro. He studied the swordsman for a long moment before he let out a weary sigh.
“I did. I do.”
Zoro’s breath caught in his throat at the admission.
“But like I said, I don’t trust you.”
“I don’t blame you for that.”
Sanji stared at him with narrowed eyes before he put the knife down and turned to face Zoro completely.
“I need to ask you something and you need to be honest,” he said.
“I’m always honest with you, Cook.”
Sanji’s lips twisted into a humorless smile but he didn’t comment on Zoro’s words.
“Do you really love me or do you just hate that he got there first? Because I won’t be a prize. I won’t be a regret you’re trying to rewrite.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it? What do you want?”
“To try.”
“You don’t get to rewrite history.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“Then what are you trying to do?”
“I’m choosing you. Not because he did, not because I lost you once, but because I want to. I don’t know how to be good at this. I don’t know how to say the right things, but I know I want to learn.”
“And if I say no,” Sanji asked quietly.
“Then I’ll have to accept it, but it won’t change how I feel.”
Sanji looked away at that, his fingers tapping the counter anxiously.
“You hurt me. You made me feel like I was nothing. Now you want me to believe you care?”
Zoro reached out and almost touched Sanji before he stopped himself, letting his hand hover near Sanji’s tapping fingers.
“I don’t want you to just believe me, I want to earn it. I want to earn you. I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t know how to value something like the love you were offering me, not when it was something that I didn’t have to sweat and bleed over like I do my dream. I realize how stupid that was now and that I just made everything more complicated for both of us.”
“You don’t think love is something you have to fight for? Something that you need to work for?”
“I didn’t back then. Now I know better and I want to earn it from you, I want to deserve it. Because it’s you, it’s always been you.”
Sanji stared at him for a long time, his gaze contemplative before he came to a decision.
“Then earn it now.”
“How?”
“Start by listening. I’m still angry and hurt. I still don’t trust you… but I want to. So, here’s what I need. No more silence, no more pride. If you feel something, say it. I’m just going to spiral down a rabbit hole if I don’t know how you’re feeling and make up the most hurtful thing I can in my head. I’d rather not, so I need you to speak to me.”
“Okay.”
“If you want something, ask for it. I know you’re not the best with words, but I need you to try. If you’re scared, admit it instead of lashing out or getting angry at me.”
Zoro nodded firmly to himself. He could do that. It wouldn’t be easy, but for Sanji, he would.
“And if you ever ever make me feel like I’m a mistake again, I walk. No second chances, no do-overs,” Sanji’s voice trembled.
Zoro’s heart ached.
“I won’t. If I make you feel that way again, then I’ve failed and I deserve to lose you.”
Sanji seemed to take his words to heart before he continued.
“Trust isn’t just mine to give.”
Zoro tilted his head in confusion at that.
“It’s a two-way street. You don’t trust me either,” Sanji continued.
“I want to,” Zoro admitted.
“Then tell me what you need from me.”
Zoro blinked at him in surprise. Sanji stepped closer, his tone softening.
“Set your boundaries. Ask for what helps. Tell me what makes you feel safe.”
Zoro’s breath hitched. He wasn’t expecting that. Sanji didn’t push, just waited. Zoro looked down, fiddling with his swords before he spoke.
“I… I need you to stop hiding things. It makes me feel like I don’t know you and I… I don’t like that.”
“Okay.”
“I need to know you won’t leave again without telling me why or without intending to come back.”
“I won’t,” Sanji promised, stepping closer.
“Even if it’s hard?”
“Especially then.”
Zoro exhaled a breath of relief.
“I need you to tell me when you’re hurting. Not just when it’s convenient. I won’t have all the words and I probably won’t be the best at helping you, but it makes me feel powerless when I know something’s wrong with you and I can’t help.”
“You won’t be able to fix me. I’ve got shit I need to work through on my own.”
“Maybe it’s yours to work through, but you don’t have to do it alone. You’re my crew, my friend, you always have been. I should’ve been there to support you through whatever you’re going through, not making it worse. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.”
Sanji’s eyes welled up at that.
“I… it’s alright.”
“No, it’s not.”
Sanji shook his head.
“It’s not. I’m not.”
Zoro reached out slowly and carefully, brushing Sanji’s hair back from his face.
“What do you need from me,” Zoro asked.
Sanji glanced up at him, his eyes wet and trembling.
“I… I need… can you just hold me?”
Zoro stepped forward with slow deliberate movements, giving Sanji the chance to move away before he pulled him in his arms. Sanji was stiff for a moment before he melted into the embrace, allowing Zoro to wrap an arm around his waist and rest his other hand behind his neck, his lips pressed against Sanji’s head.
Sanji let it happen, melted into it. It might not be forgiveness, but it was an understanding at least.
~*~*~
They didn’t talk much at first, not about their feelings or the past. When they did, it was mostly about the ship, the weather, the next island, Luffy’s latest disaster. Usopp’s newest invention. Safe things. Surface things. They began walking together in the evenings as the sun was setting, quiet laps around the deck side by side. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they didn’t. Sometimes Zoro would ask about a recipe or Sanji would ask about sword forms. Sometimes they’d talk about their dreams and Sanji would go on long rants about what he imagined the All Blue to be. Zoro never interrupted him. Sometimes he worried that he was supposed to be saying something back, but Sanji always seemed to know that he was listening. Sometimes they just stood side by side and watched the sun dip below the waves.
Zoro started showing up in the galley, not for food or booze, but to be near. He’d sit at the counter while Sanji cooked, silent but steady, and Sanji would slide him a plate without comment. Sometimes Zoro would stumble in from morning watch and fall asleep on the couch or the table, lulled by the sound of Sanji’s humming as he moved around the kitchen. One morning, Zoro even offered to help prep ingredients. Sanji had raised a dubious eyebrow.
“You know what to use that knife for?”
“I’ve watched you enough times to have a vague idea.”
Sanji wordlessly handed him the cutting board. Their hands brushed, but neither of them pulled away. It wasn’t easy trying to navigate this new place in their relationship. They did have their missteps. Sometimes it felt like they were navigating a minefield and they’d stumble over words that triggered emotions they didn’t expect.
Sanji had been teasing Zoro in the galley one morning. It was much lighter than the verbal jabbing they used to get up to. They were still trying to find their feet with one another. Sparring still felt too raw. Too close to something that could break. Zoro had rolled his eyes at Sanji’s joke and muttered something about eyebrow symmetry and Sanji’s face.
“Careful, mosshead. I might start thinking you actually like me,” Sanji jabbed back.
Zoro froze. The words hit harder than they should have. His shoulders went rigid and his gaze dropped. He couldn’t look at him. Sanji’s smile faltered. Zoro didn’t respond or joke back and he wouldn’t meet his eyes as he turned and walked out of the galley.
He trained for hours, let the sun burn his skin, let his knuckles split, let the ache drown out the panic. Sanji found him on the upper deck. He watched Zoro for a moment before speaking.
“You left,” Sanji said eventually.
“I needed space,” Zoro replied, blade still moving. Sanji was quiet for another long moment before speaking again.
“Did I cross a line?”
Zoro’s blade stilled. He exhaled audibly before turning to face Sanji.
“I don’t know,” he said.
Sanji stepped closer and leaned against the railing, raising an inquiring eyebrow at Zoro.
“I wanted to laugh, I wanted to say something back, but I couldn’t.”
“Why,” Sanji asked with a frown.
“Because… because I… I got… scared.”
Sanji blinked.
“I was scared that I was going to say the wrong thing, that I’d ruin everything and you were going to leave,” Zoro continued, halting.
“It was just a joke. If we spend all our time walking on eggshells around one another, this isn’t going to work.”
“I know, I know. I just… I know I screwed this up before and I don’t want to do that again.”
Sanji looked at him contemplatively before speaking.
“You wanna know why I fell for you in the first place, Moss?”
Zoro looked up sharply at that before nodding, his eye intent on Sanji’s face.
“I used to think you didn’t feel anything,” Sanji said.
“I didn’t know how to show it.”
“I know that now,” Sanji affirmed before continuing.
“I fell in love with you because you never asked me to be anything but myself. You didn’t flinch when I was mean, you gave me back as good as you got. You didn’t pity me when I was broken, you believed that I could pick myself back up again and keep fighting. You didn’t try to fix me, you just stood there, steady and sure, like I could fall apart and you’d still be there. I loved you because you were strong. Not just with swords, but with loyalty and presence. You didn’t bend or break. I wanted to be near that. I wanted to believe I could be that.”
“You are.”
Sanji smiled, faint and sad.
“Not always, but I loved you because you made me feel like I could be more than what they made me.”
“And now,” Zoro asked quietly.
Sanji looked at him, his eyes soft, guarded and aching.
“I still love you, even though I’m still working on trusting you. And I’m telling you this not because I want something from you, but because of all those reasons I fell for you? Being good with words wasn’t one of them.”
Zoro scoffed at that and shook his head.
“All that just to make fun of me, cook?”
“Teasing is what we do. We insult each other and push each other and we’re not always kind to one another. I still fell in love with you even with all that. So, you can joke with me, idiot. You can call me names because seas know I won’t stop calling you names, shitty moss. And we can spar when we both feel comfortable enough for that too. Being an us, if that’s what we end up being, doesn’t mean we have to change everything about us that came before. Alright?”
Zoro took a moment before nodding.
“Yeah, sounds good.”
“And maybe don’t run off next time without letting me know you need some space. I get scared too you know. Running without a word won’t fix anything. We talk, give each other space if that’s what we need, we try to figure out what’s wrong.”
Zoro nodded in agreement.
~*~*~
Sanji was used to being one of the first people up every morning, it came with the territory of being the cook, so he was a little confused when he went into the galley and saw Zoro already there, awkwardly chopping vegetables with a blade far too large for the task, sleeves rolled up, brow furrowed in concentration.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping.”
“You’re butchering my carrots,” Sanji pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest.
“They’ll still taste like carrots,” Zoro shrugged.
Sanji sighed and rolled his eyes at that.
“You’re lucky I’m too tired to fight you.”
Later, Zoro started showing up during prep. Not just to sleep or hover, but to help and learn. He asked questions, listened and tried. He burned things, which earned him a kick to the head, but he also ate whatever he burned so he wouldn’t waste food, which earned him a slight blush.
Sanji didn’t tease him much. He saw the effort and patience Zoro was putting into the task of learning to cook. He didn’t know why he was doing it, but Sanji liked teaching Zoro more than he thought he would. He liked Zoro being there with him in the space that was his own, indulging in this task that was so vital to Sanji’s being.
Spending their time cooking also seemed to melt away the tension between them and they started speaking to one another as they usually would, trading insults and physical blows and banter. Sanji had been unreasonably delighted when they’d had their first spar in weeks, even if it had destroyed more of the Sunny than he cared to remember. Franky still hadn’t forgiven them for that, but it had eased something in his chest.
One evening while Sanji was sitting in the library, sipping tea with Robin, Zoro showed up, lingering awkwardly by the door. Sanji raised an eyebrow at him.
“Um, can you come with me please?”
Sanji’s other eyebrow went up.
“Please? Are you marching me to my execution or something?”
Zoro rolled his eyes in response.
“Are you coming or not?”
Sanji turned back to Robin who waved him off.
“Please, don’t let me stop you. Enjoy your evening, Sanji.”
Sanji bid her farewell before following Zoro.
“Where exactly are we going, moss? I want to get there some time tonight.”
Zoro rolled his eyes but relented and informed him they were going to the upper deck. Sanji took the lead as they climbed up. It was late. The stars were scattered across the sky like spilled sugar, the sea whispering below. He paused when he reached the upper deck.
There was a blanket spread across the deck. Fairy lights were strung along the railing, flickering soft gold. There were two bento boxes set on the blanket with two cups and a bottle of wine chilling in ice. Zoro moved to stand beside the blanket, looking like he wasn’t sure if he should be proud or terrified.
“What is this,” Sanji asked.
“A late dinner I made.”
“You cooked?”
“I just used what you’ve been teaching me.”
Sanji approached and crouched down to inspect the food. There was grilled fish that smelled like it had actually been seasoned, sautéed greens and onigiri shaped into neat little triangles. It wasn’t perfect but it didn’t look like a disaster.
“I wanted to do something for you,” Zoro explained.
Sanji stood back up and glanced over at the swordsman.
“Is this a date?”
Sanji watched him curiously, cautiously, hopefully. Zoro opened his mouth and then closed it with a frown.
“I didn’t ask. I should’ve asked. I didn’t want to assume—”
Sanji leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly. Zoro immediately stopped talking and stiffened. Sanji pulled back, ignoring the way Zoro leaned in before catching himself.
“Thank you for the surprise. I love it,” he said gently.
“You’re welcome.”
They sat together on the blanket, the stars above them, the sea below, the food between them. It wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs and for the first time in a long time, it felt right.
Conversation between them felt easy, their banter felt comfortable. It didn’t feel awkward when they finished their food and Sanji leaned over to rest his shoulder against Zoro’s. Zoro kept glancing up at the sky every now and again and Sanji didn’t realize why until the first streak of light cut across it.
“Was that—?”
“Nami mentioned there’d be a meteor shower in the area tonight. I thought you’d want to see it.”
Sanji looked up.
Another streak. Then another. Then dozens of silver and gold and pale blue streaks trailed across the night sky. Sanji’s breath caught at the sight.
“You’ve never seen one,” Zoro asked, glancing over at him.
“Not like this.”
Zoro shifted, sat up, reached for the blanket and tugged it so Sanji was closer. Sanji didn’t resist, he let his head fall on Zoro’s shoulder and kept taking in the sight, gaze still fixed on the sky.
“It used to happen a lot more when we were in Paradise. I would watch them from the crow’s nest, back when I couldn’t sleep.”
“Why couldn’t you sleep,” Sanji asked, glancing over briefly.
“Too much noise in my head.”
“I know the feeling.”
Another meteor streaked overhead, bright and fast.
“They’re beautiful,” Sanji whispered.
“So are you.”
Sanji turned and met his gaze.
“Too much?” the swordsman asked.
“No, it’s… it’s alright,” Sanji replied with a soft exhale before dropping his head back down to Zoro’s shoulder. Zoro tilted his head gently against Sanji’s and they watched the sky together.
~*~*~
Sanji woke with a gasp. Sweat clung to his skin, the sheets were twisted, his breath came fast and shallow, like he’d been running through fire. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, trying to breathe. The dream lingered behind his eyes: Zeff bleeding, Luffy falling, the wedding cake towering like a guillotine.
Sanji didn’t think, he just moved. He needed to get out of this room. He needed time to think, to breathe. He found himself walking purposefully onto the deck towards the ladder leading to the crow’s nest. It wasn’t until he was halfway there that the thought struck him.
I’m going to Zoro.
Not Robin, not Luffy, not the quiet of the galley or the distraction of the kitchen but Zoro. That realization hit harder than the dream. Somewhere between the silence and the walks and the shared meals and the awkward gestures, something had shifted. He trusted Zoro. Not completely, not without fear, but enough that his first instinct was to seek him out. He hadn’t known that trust had rebuilt itself to that point, not until now.
Zoro was sitting cross-legged in the crow’s nest, swords beside him, eye half-closed like he’d been meditating. He looked up when Sanji entered. He didn’t speak, just shifted slightly, making space. Sanji sat beside him, their shoulders brushing one another’s. They were silent for a long while, the only sounds in the crow’s nest being their quiet breaths, before Sanji finally spoke.
“I had a nightmare. I keep seeing it, the altar, the chains, the way they looked at me like I was property. I didn’t want to go. The wedding, leaving the crew, I didn’t want any of it. I left because they threatened to kill Zeff if I didn’t obey them.”
Sanji looked down in shame.
“So I did. I left. I lied. I fought Luffy. I broke everything I loved because I thought it was the only way to keep Zeff alive. I thought I could handle it, that I could protect everyone by disappearing.”
“You didn’t trust us,” Zoro commented quietly.
“I didn’t trust that you guys would still choose me once you knew about the real me and I hated myself for that. I’m still trying to work through all of that.”
“You haven’t talked to any of us about it.”
“I didn’t think you’d care.”
Zoro flinched.
“And I didn’t trust you to stay if you knew how broken I was,” Sanji continued.
“I’ll stay now.”
“I know,” Sanji replied, a small sad smile on his lips.
Zoro reached out slowly and carefully, resting his hand on Sanji’s wrist.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Sanji looked up at him as Zoro continued.
“For not asking earlier how you’ve felt, for not listening and for not seeing.”
Sanji’s breath trembled.
“I’m here now and I’m not leaving.”
Sanji didn’t speak, just leaned in and let himself be held and heard.
~*~*~
They sat on the deck just after sunrise. The sky was soft with color — peach and lavender bleeding into pale blue. The sea was calm as the ship slept. Sanji had brought coffee and he and Zoro sat side by side on the deck, legs stretched out, shoulders brushing as they enjoyed the silence of early morning.
“We never really talked about it,” Sanji said softly.
“About what,” Zoro asked, glancing over.
“Us. What we want, what this is, what it could be. I don’t want something perfect.”
“Good, because I’m not,” Zoro replied, sipping his coffee.
Sanji smiled faintly, deciding to save the automatic jab on his lips in favor of keeping the conversation on track.
“I want something honest, something steady, something I don’t have to second-guess.”
“I want that too,” Zoro replied quietly.
Sanji turned to face him as he continued.
“I want to be able to fight with you and still know you’ll be there after.”
“I will be.”
“I want to be able to fall apart and not feel ashamed.”
“I want to be someone you can lean on, someone who’ll listen. I want you to be someone who’ll stay and I want to have someone who’ll stay with me.”
“I will.”
“I want to build something with you. Not just moments, a future,” Zoro affirmed.
“What does that look like,” Sanji wondered.
Zoro shrugged in reply.
“Shared space, shared fights, shared mornings like this.”
“Shared kitchen,” Sanji smiled.
“Yeah cook, even that if you want.”
Sanji smiled wider and then reached out and intertwined his hand with Zoro’s.
“I want to try,” he said.
Zoro nodded in response.
“Me too.”
They sat together as the sun rose, fingers intertwined, hearts still aching but open. It wasn’t a promise or even a plan, but it was a beginning and for now, that was enough.