Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The transition from the kitchen of the Baratie to the galley of the Going Merry brought with it a type of freedom heretofore unknown. As the sous chef of a busy, high-end restaurant, under the strict rule of his shitty old geezer, Sanji was restricted to a set menu. Even when the menu changed seasonally and based on market availability, Zeff shot down his more creative ideas. Shitty geezer.

But now? He was no longer a sous chef, he was the personal chef of a goddess and three teenaged idiots, including the future King of the Pirates. He had free reign of his own galley and the creative freedom to make whatever the fuck he wanted. 

Forced to wait two weeks so a certain idiot swordsman’s stitches could heal, Sanji had ample opportunity to figure out how to cater to the crew’s preferences. Luffy ate literally anything, but especially meat. Zoro was content as long as he had rice, but had made the most adorably hilariously disgusted face when Sanji served the group a simple milk chocolate mousse for dessert one night, claiming it was too sweet. Nami assured him she would eat anything, but he took specific note of the smile she wore when eating a piece of fresh fruit (though that would require further observation to discern if that was just due to being safe at home with her sister). Usopp loved freshly grilled fish and adored the spicy blackening seasoning Sanji prepared one night, but he definitely caught him sneaking the mushrooms from his stir-fry off his plate and onto Luffy’s on more than one occasion.

Struck by inspiration in the second week, he approached Nojiko with his idea. She readily agreed and with the help of Usopp and a couple men from the village, three of Belle-mère’s mikan trees were transplanted onto the deck of the Going Merry. From a nutritional standpoint, this was a genius move. Sailors were always at risk of scurvy, something the other Straw Hats had apparently encountered when they ran into Zoro’s friends Johnny and Yosaku just before arriving at the Baratie. Fresh citrus is high in vitamin C, so having a near-infinite source onboard would be a boon in the Grand Line. But truly, this was just so the lovely Miss Nami could have a piece of the home she worked so hard to save with her on her new journey.

They were a week out from Cocoyashi Village at this point, still over a week until Loguetown, and the energy on the ship was a little frayed. The reality of their situation and their upcoming adventure was finally setting in, making everyone restless. Sanji had found himself somewhat overwhelmed by an excess of creative independence. No food was ever wasted, not with Monkey D. Luffy around, but Zeff would have never allowed most of the creations past the kitchen door. 

There was something meditative about making onigiri though. He started simply, just tossing some mayonnaise on the leftover salmon from a different dish and wrapping it up in the rice that was left in the pot after dinner. He’d offered it as a peace offering to the swordsman that night, since a wild kick during one of their increasingly regular fights had left a deep bruise on his bicep. The swordsman’s nonverbal reaction not only told him he was forgiven, but also was the first time he got any real indication of a preference for a particular dish. That was enough for Sanji to decide to make onigiri a regular dish in his rotation.

One afternoon, Sanji went to smoke on the deck when he noticed Nami leaning on the railing by her trees, shoulders hunched, looking back the direction they came.

“You doin’ okay, Miss Nami? Can I get you anything?”

“Oh, hey, Sanji,” Nami sniffled and tried to wipe her eye surreptitiously, to which Sanji offered a handkerchief. “I’m… fine, I guess.”

They stood in companionable silence, listening to the waves crash against the hull of the ship. Sanji knew when to press for information, and when not to. He hadn’t known Nami for long, but he knew that she kept her cards close to her (beautiful, ample) chest. He stubbed out his finished cigarette and began to debate lighting a second, just to prolong the opportunity to stay in the presence of a beautiful woman like their navigator, when she let out a heavy sigh and turned slightly toward him.

“Do you miss the Baratie?” Nami asked. “Even though it wasn’t the best place in the world and you knew it was time to move on and follow your dream?”

Sanji suspected she wasn’t talking about him. And given she had just liberated her hometown from a wannabe tyrant after spending half her life working toward that singular goal, he could see how she might be having some conflicting feelings mixed in with basic homesickness. He decided to stick to how she asked the question though.

“Hmmm… a bit, I suppose. That tub had been my home for the past almost ten years after all. I definitely don’t regret leaving, but sometimes when I’m cooking, it’s just a little too quiet with only one chef working in there, ya know?”

“Ah, yes, I imagine that would feel a bit strange.” Nami gave him a weak smile and plucked a mikan from the branches of the tree nearest her. “That said, it’s definitely nice to have been able to take these with us.” Nami set to work methodically peeling the satsuma for a few minutes before popping a segment into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “You know, Belle-mère used to make a dish sometimes that was made with mikans and some sort of bird. I don’t know what it was and it was so long ago, but do you think you might be able to make something like that soon?”

“For you, Miss Nami, anything,” Sanji kissed her hand and twirled away.

Back in the galley, he thought over his mental catalog of recipes, trying to think of what Nami might have been nostalgic for. Though the Baratie naturally specialized in seafood dishes, he had spent plenty of time reading cookbooks and learning other cuisines and styles. The most obvious dish he could think of as similar to Nami’s memory of “bird and mikan” would be the North Blue classic, duck a l’orange. As fancy as it sounds, it actually was probably pretty attainable for a former marine with a gun on an island full of ducks, living in a mikan grove. All she’d have to obtain otherwise would be aromatics, spices, and stock.

This probably wouldn’t be a regular dish in the menu rotation – duck wouldn’t be particularly common out on the ocean after all, and there wouldn’t be an easy way to scale the recipe to Luffy’s appetite. But he would file it away for use when needed. The other big challenge would be getting the balance right for the sauce. True duck a l’orange was made with bitter oranges, not the sweet satsumas growing on deck. But how to achieve that? Is the goal accurate culinary execution of a classic dish? Or homestyle comfort? With what he knows of Nami’s childhood from Nojiko, he should probably aim for simpler solutions, rather than gourmet. After all, this was a dish made by a poor former marine raising two young girls, not a professional chef. So it might actually make sense to keep things on the sweeter side to highlight the satsumas. Lemon would have probably been a simple way to increase the bitterness for an amateur, especially if they combined zests of both the satsumas and the lemons. Sifting through the jars of herbs and spices in his cupboards,  Sanji tried to think of what other ways he could achieve increased bitterness without completely altering the whole dish. He opened a jar of dried green leaves. Fenugreek? No, probably too niche for the average home cook in the East Blue, especially with limited funds. He moved on to a jar of yellow powder. Turmeric? Maybe… but that might still be too expensive if I’m trying to recreate a recipe Nami’s mother would have made… His gaze fell onto another jar of dried green leaves and his eyes narrowed. No… not oregano… never oregano… Maybe he would just stick to the lemon.

The villagers had kindly given them a couple of fat ducks on ice that he cut into quarters and left to thaw in a bowl of warm water while he prepped the sauce and gastrique. He went out to Nami’s mikan trees and picked a pound of ripe satsumas. He chopped the onions, carrots, and celery for the mirepoix, zested the satsumas and lemons, juiced them both, and finished placing his mise. Once the meat was defrosted, he patted the pieces dry and seasoned liberally with salt and pepper. Placing a heavy saute pan on the stove, he heated it until a quick splash of water danced across the surface. Not bothering to oil the pan, he placed the duck quarters skin side down to brown. Once the duck pieces were lifting free of the pan with ease and both sides had picked up some good browning, he set them aside on a rack to rest and poured off most of the fat into a heatproof container for future use. Looking pleased at the amount of fond gracing the pan, Sanji added the mirepoix to the pan to saute. As the water released from the vegetables and the savory aroma perfumed the air, he scraped the fond up from the bottom of the pan as best he could before adding the garlic and letting it get fragrant, then deglazing the pan with a cup of dry white wine. Once he’d gotten the last of the deglazed fond scraped up, he poured in some good chicken stock he’d made the other day along with the juice and zest from the satsumas and lemons, releasing a mouth-wateringly bright scent. A shot of orange liqueur and a couple of sprigs of thyme were added and then the whole pan went into the oven to braise. 

As the braise cooked, he set up the rice cooker so the rice would be done around the same time as the duck. Getting started on the clean-up, he heard a crash, followed by a bang, as the galley door flew open and a rubber hand careened into view.

“Goddammit, Luffy!” roared the voice of a third crewmate. “You know he’ll bring you a snack when he has one ready!”

“But Zoooroooooooooo, it smells so good!”

Exasperated, Sanji dried his hands off and pulled a plate from where he’d been keeping it warm on the stove. “Here you go, you shitty rubber. I fried up the livers, hearts, and other entrails from the ducks I’m using for tonight’s dinner.”

“What’s for dinner then, Cook?” Zoro peered around as Luffy poured the plate of offal into his eager mouth.

“It’s a surprise. Now both of you get out of my kitchen. Dinner should be ready in about an hour.”

Mold and rubber invasion sorted, he cleaned up the first half of his dinner prep and moved on to setting up his onigiri supplies. 

When the rice timer went off, he opened it up to let out some steam and cool, then opened the oven to flip the meat over for even browning. With everything in place, he took the opportunity to update his menu journal and enjoy a cigarette.

Once the meat was done and rested, he removed the crispy skin to set it aside and pulled the meat from the bones, cutting it into bite-sized pieces. He reduced the braising liquid further, then blended it smooth and tossed it with the duck meat. The skin was placed on a wire rack and returned to the oven to become shatteringly crisp.

Not much time later, the tender spoonfuls of mikan-sauced duck meat were encased in their balls of salty rice with a strip of seaweed wrapped around the base and a triangle of duck cracklings sticking out of the top. 

The crew loved it. Luffy slowed down long enough that he might have actually tasted the dish. Usopp didn’t attempt to add hot sauce. Nami, wiping a tear from her eye, put her plate down and brushed a light kiss to his cheek, saying the filling tasted just like the dish Belle-mère used to make. Even Zoro, usually no more vocal in his opinion of the food than a nod and a grunt, cracked a smile and said, “This is good, Cook. Different than I’m used to, but good.”

Ignoring the way his stomach swooped at the praise, Sanji smirked, replying, “Of course it is, shit-swordsman, I made it.”

Rather than rising to the bait and starting a fight, Zoro just rolled his eyes, grabbed another rice ball, took a bite, and chewed obnoxiously at Sanji, earning himself a sharp flick to the ear for his trouble.

If Sanji was blushing, it was probably just from the heat of the warm galley or Nami’s kiss.

Chapter Text

The meat from Zoro’s rhino and the shit-cook’s lizard was probably going to last all the way to Alabasta, even with a bottomless pit for a captain.

Zoro would swear on his swords that his beast was bigger than the shit-cook’s, but, in the end, even he knew it didn’t matter. They’d both obtained a massive pile of food. That said, Zoro would deny until his last breath that the cook’s lizard looked cooler. And if he had removed one of the teeth before returning to the ship and stowed it in his locker, well, that was his business.

Focusing on the shame and frustration stinging from the stitches in his ankles, Zoro worked through the reps, swinging a massive weight like a sword over the rail of the stern. After his two-thousand six hundred fourth rep, he heard the clink of a plate being set down on the deck and smelled the burn of cigarette smoke.

“Whaddya want, Shit-cook, I’m busy,” Zoro scowled, not bothering to look or break his rhythm.

“Just dropping off a snack for when you’re done. I used the meat from your tiny rhino.”

A growl rose from his throat as he sat the weight down. “The fuck are you talking about? You know damn well my rhino was bigger than your puny lizard.”

The cook looked entirely too pleased with himself. “Whatever you say, Marimo, but I still say most of that length was the horns, which doesn’t count.”

Zoro glared at him again and huffed a breath out. “Whatever.”

Wiping his face with a towel, he flopped down next to the plate of three perfectly formed pyramids of rice wrapped in nori, with a tiny piece of meat dotting the top of each. One thing he couldn’t stand about the shit-cook (because he didn’t understand why he bothered) was how beautiful each dish he made was. Even this plate of the simplest meal (that even Zoro could make if he tried), looked like the perfect ideal of the dish in the hands of the swirly-browed idiot. 

Zoro brought the plate up to his narrowed eyes while the cook scoffed. “I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just figured you should be the first one to taste the meat, since you’re the one that killed it.”

Zoro looked at him, suspicious expression softening. That was… inconsistent. Usually the first taste of anything the cook made went to his “lovely ladies” before almost begrudgingly giving the rest to the boys. Not that Zoro cared, but something fluttered in his stomach at the gesture.

The cook raised a curly eyebrow, then shoved a sweaty glass of pale green liquid at him. “I made some cucumber-lime coconut water for Miss Nami. Her fever’s not getting any better. Figured you’d need the hydration too. It’s got electrolytes, I hear that’s what plants crave.”

If Zoro let his touch linger against the cook’s as he took the glass, no he didn’t.

A strangely soft calm settled over the stern. The cook leaned against the railing to finish his cigarette. Zoro downed half the drink in one gulp. He sighed as the cool liquid seemed to soak his insides, refreshing his tired muscles as if he’d jumped into the ocean on a hot day.

The cook’s eyes crinkled in happiness, even if he wasn’t smiling and was clearly trying to feign disinterest in Zoro’s reaction to the snack. Zoro was used to that at this point. No matter what he said to the contrary, the cook genuinely cared about the opinions and preferences of the entire crew, not just Nami and Vivi. He always made faces like this during mealtimes.

Setting the glass down, Zoro finally grabbed one of the onigiri, plucking the piece of meat off the top first, chewing it thoughtfully. As usual, it was delicious. Perfectly balanced between salty, sweet, and savory. The meat itself tasted like a combination of pork and chicken. Taking a bite from the bottom of the rice ball so he could get a mouthful of everything, he scrambled to suppress a moan.

This was his new favorite food.

His eyes widened as he stuffed the rest of the rice in his mouth. He couldn't let the cook know how good this was, the asshole would be insufferable. But he couldn’t not tell him… otherwise he might never make this again. Not that rhino meat was going to be likely to be easy to obtain again, no matter how crazy the Grand Line is.

As he struggled, he heard the cook light a new cigarette. “Well, Mosshead, how is it?”

Zoro swallowed the delicious lump of food. Trying to play it cool, he shrugged and grunted, “Good.”

The cook glared at him. “Good? That’s it? Could ya give me a little more to work with? It’s sort of the first time I’ve cooked one of those things. I wanna make sure it’s worth serving to the ladies that way or if I should do something different.”

Right. “The ladies.” Zoro had almost forgotten for a second that the cook barely cared about anyone else’s opinion but Nami’s or Vivi’s. A flash of irritation zapped through his chest. But he still wanted to be able to eat this in the future.

Hoping to sound neutral, he shrugged again and said, “Yeah, it’s good . The meat tastes kinda like both pork and chicken somehow and the sauce is good with it.” He dared to look the cook in his one visible eye. “I don’t know what else you want me to say, Shit-cook. I don’t know as many food words as you.”

The cook rolled his eyes but seemed to accept his answer. “Fine. Glad you liked it. I’ll let you finish in peace then. Don’t forget your dishes when you’re done.” With that, the cook unrolled himself from the railing and returned to the galley. 

Zoro watched him walk away, trying to focus on the flavor of the next piece of onigiri, rather than the beating of his heart.

Chapter Text

Sanji dusted off his hands after righting the last of the sacks in the storage room off his new galley on the Thousand Sunny. He felt a little silly looking at the size of the stack, but this salt from Aqua Laguna was the closest he’d ever gotten to real evidence that his dream of finding the All Blue was more than just a dream – and he wasn’t about to let that go. Besides, who knew when they’d be able to stock up again? Yes, better safe than sorry. Sanji felt the familiar prickle of anxiety crawl up his spine at the thought of running out of supplies before getting to Fishman Island. Especially with the size of their new shipwright. He’d have to recalibrate serving sizes for some recipes and adjust his perpetual mental grocery list…

Forcing himself to take a calming breath, he pulled out a cigarette to chew on while he familiarized himself with the new gadgets in his galley. That would settle his nerves. Hefting a bag of rice over his shoulder, he climbed up out of the storeroom back to the pantry and the galley.

Humming to himself, he started a batch of rice in the rice cooker. That was always a good, easy place to start. Someone (Zoro) would always be happy with adding rice to their meal and there were plenty of ways to incorporate and manipulate the grain into varied meals.

As the rice cooker puffed away, he lit his cigarette and searched the contents of the new, beautiful, locking fridge for inspiration. There were plenty of veggies and cuts of meat but he wanted to save those for actual meal times, instead of the weird liminal space between lunch and afternoon snack that they currently were in. 

Still jittery with adrenaline from fighting off Luffy’s insane grandfather and the ridiculous flight of their goddamn ship, he went back to the pantry. When nothing immediately jumped out at him, he closed his eyes and just pointed randomly at a shelf. His gaze landed on the neatly stacked sheets of dried seaweed he used for onigiri. Nodding approvingly at the random selection, he grabbed the dark green sheets and went back to the counter.

He tapped his lips thoughtfully as he pondered what to make as a filling. Suddenly, the galley door burst open, breaking the silence that had settled around him, instead blasting him with the cacophony of noise that always accompanied the Straw Hat Crew as a dripping wet mosshead stomped in.

“What do you think you’re doing, Mosshead?” Sanji snapped, glaring as a puddle formed beneath the swordsman.

“Sake.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Cook, I’ve already had to dive after Luffy twice and we’ve only been sailing for like an hour,” Zoro groaned, sounding exaggeratedly exhausted. 

Feeling weirdly generous, Sanji exhaled a plume of cigarette smoke. “Go dry off and I’ll consider it.”

The brute shuffled off to get a towel. Sanji huffed, resigning himself to his upcoming mold problem.

A few minutes later, Zoro strolled back into the galley, hair still damp, but not dripping, and wearing thankfully dry clothes.

“Do you want the sake hot or cold?” Sanji asked, trying to be nonchalant about the fact that he wasn’t denying Zoro’s request like usual.

“Whatever’s easiest.” Zoro slumped into one of the barstools and pillowed his head on his arms on the counter as Sanji passed him over one of the cheaper bottles of sake from the stores. He pulled the cork out with his teeth, spat out the cork, ignored the cup Sanji had set out for him (as usual), and took a long drink. With a content sigh, he glanced at the stack of nori that Sanji had resumed staring at for inspiration.

“That nori owe you money?”

Sanji scoffed, “No, I’m just at a loss for what to do with it.”

Zoro looked thoughtful, then sniffed the air, “I smell rice. You making onigiri or something?”

“That was the idea, but I can’t decide on what sort of filling to make.” Sanji ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs back for a second before they flopped back over his left eye.  “Since we just left Water 7, we have plenty of supplies, so I don’t want to break into the canned goods like that luncheon meat we found that tastes kinda like your rhino from Little Garden. Same with the pickled plums. We just had lunch, but it was just sandwiches, so there aren’t any leftovers to use. And it’s too early for dinner prep, plus I don’t know what I wanna make for dinner yet anyway. So, onigiri. But, again, I don’t want to break into the fresh meats and stuff in the fridge just yet sooo…” Sanji waved his hand at the stack of nori.

Zoro just looked between him and the nori as the rice cooker chimed that the rice was done. Sanji broke the staring contest to open the rice cooker so the rice could cool, just as Zoro said, “You know onigiri doesn’t have to have a filling, right?” He took a swig of sake.

Sanji clenched his jaw, trying to decide how to respond. He, in fact, did not know onigiri did not have to be filled. But the idea of admitting to the marimo that he knew more about something than Sanji, especially something related to food, made him want to chew glass.

He must have been silent for too long though because a smug grin danced its way onto Zoro’s stupid face while he was thinking. Sanji scowled. “Tch. So, what? It’s just seaweed wrapped around salty rice?”

“Yup.” He popped the “p” and took another drink. “Sometimes simple is all you need.”

Sanji thought about that. Then he thought about the chaos of the past few weeks between Water 7 and Enies Lobby. And how Zoro had looked when he first came into the galley today. The exhaustion from diving after their beloved captain when his rubber ass immediately fell into the ocean at the first opportunity. Maybe simple was what they needed.

“Simple, huh?” Sanji gave a crooked smile. “I think we could do with some simplicity right about now.”

Humming to himself, Sanji left Zoro at the counter as he took his salt container down to the storeroom to fill it with some of his new Aqua Laguna salt.

He was a little surprised, but not displeased, to see Zoro still sitting at the counter, sipping his sake contentedly. He’d half expected the man to have left for his new gym in the crow’s nest or something. As long as he stayed out of the way though, there was no reason to kick him out.

Stubbing out his cigarette in the handy ashtray installed over the sink, Sanji pulled out a new stick, but didn’t light it. He washed his hands, grabbed a bowl, filled it with warm water, and tested the temperature of the rice. It needed to cool some more, so he pulled out the wooden hangiri and spread out the rice to let some more steam into the air. While the rice cooled enough to handle, he toasted and cut the nori into smaller strips to wrap around the rice. He washed his hands again, then moistened them with the warm water in the bowl, dipped three fingers in the salt, and touched the salt to the palm of his left hand. Then he took a scoop of rice, formed it into a pyramid, put a little more salt on the rice, wrapped the base in a strip of the toasted nori, placed it on a plate, and offered it to the marimo.

Zoro grinned and shoved the whole thing into his mouth like the animal he was. Sanji rolled his eyes. His irritated expression melted into amusement as Zoro’s eyes widened in shock and his chewing sped up, chipmunk cheeks rapidly deflating as he swallowed. 

“Fuck, Cook. What the fuck did you do to that?!”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… I fuckin’ watched you make that shit. It was just rice, salt, and seaweed. How did you make that taste like the best damn thing I’ve ever eaten?”

Sanji preened at the praise. 

“It’s the salt, actually,” he chuckled as Zoro cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head, much like a confused puppy. “I discovered it while out with Chimney and Gonbe the other day. Apparently, after the waters of Aqua Laguna recede, the salt left on the buildings is harvested for culinary use. And since Water 7 is in the Grand Line, it seems entirely possible that the Aqua Laguna wave contains salt from all over the world.”

Zoro looked at him, a curious look on his face. “Do you think this has any connection to your ocean? The All Blue?”

A soft smile formed unbidden on Sanji’s face. “Yeah, Mossy, I actually do.”

“That’s great,” Zoro said, with a genuine grin. “I can’t wait to see it.”

Sanji’s heart started beating faster. What is happening?

Clearing his throat, Sanji forced himself to focus back on the task at hand. “So, what do you think the New World is gonna be like?”

Zoro sipped thoughtfully on his sake. “Dunno. Haven’t thought about it much. Figure it’s not worth worrying about. Did Zeff make it there when he was active?”

“No, I don’t think so. He never talked much about his past, but I’ve figured out that some of the stories he told me as a kid were probably from the Grand Line. And the guy I got this salt from knew Zeff.”

“No way! That’s kinda cool, I gotta admit.” Zoro eyed the growing mound of rice balls on the counter. “You should roll some of those in furikake.”

Sanji shot Zoro his best side-eye for daring to contribute to the cooking process. “Fine. Go grab it from the pantry, it’s in basically the same spot here as it was on the Merry. Even your directionless ass should be able to find it.”

A huge grin split Zoro’s face, making him actually look like his nineteen years of age. He scrambled over to the pantry, seemingly eager to be helping feed the crew. 

Sanji couldn’t help the small smile that snuck onto his face as he watched. Maybe spending time with the marimo isn’t the worst thing in the world.

Chapter Text

Luffy was bouncing around, crowing about his “new legs” and laughing while Usopp freaked out about the bird lady he claimed he saw. Zoro cleaned dragon blood off his blades and looked at the leftovers from their impromptu feast. The dragon had tasted pretty good, not that Zoro was picky, but since they had had no seasonings and had just sort of cooked it over the flames of Punk Hazard on his swords, he knew the cook would probably be able to make something better with it.

“Hey, Usopp! Do you still have the boxes from our pirate bentos?” Zoro shouted.

“Uh… yeah? Why?” Usopp asked, opening his bag and starting to hand the boxes over.

“Just figured we’d take some of this meat back to the Sunny is all.”

Zoro didn’t like the way Usopp smirked and Robin giggled. 

“Sure, man, here’s the boxes.”

Zoro glared, but took the boxes, then looked around for somewhere to rinse them out, since he remembered the “special ingredients” the cook had included in his meal. He didn’t feel poisoned, but if he’d included the promised razorblades, who’s to say he hadn’t also included the promised poison.

Bentos rinsed and washed as best as he could, he put as much of the remaining dragon meat as he was able to fit in the boxes and gave them to Usopp to store in his bag, tucking one in his haramaki, just in case. He hoped they hadn’t cooked the meat beyond usability and that they’d get back to the Sunny (and the cook) before the meat went bad.

🍙🍙🍙

Less than 24 hours after fighting the dragon, they had narrowly avoided a fight with the Warlord Donquixote Doflamingo and were setting sail from Punk Hazard with four new guests.

“How come Traffy got onigiri?” Zoro definitely didn’t pout as he helped the cook with the dishes. 

“Because the man said he doesn’t like bread and that was the fastest thing I could come up with,” he replied with a mixture of a beleaguered sigh and a fond laugh. “Don’t worry, Marimo, I made you some too, for later.”

Zoro perked up at that. “Oh yeah? What kind?”

“Well, far be it from me to complain about new ingredients, but I found the pirate bentos in the fridge stuffed with mystery meat. Usopp happened to be in the galley when I found them and said you killed a dragon and wanted to bring back the meat? Figured I give that a shot.”

Zoro’s ears felt a little warm. That damn long-nose. He wanted to be the one to tell the cook about the dragon meat.

“Oh, neat. Yeah, Luffy was still hungry after we finished our bentos—mine was deliciously crunchy by the way, thanks for that—so we tried having a barbecue after we killed the dragon and found the samurai’s legs. It kinda reminded me of your lizard from Little Garden.” Zoro stopped himself from adding, So I thought you might enjoy experimenting with it… and that you might make me a special dish with it again like last time…

“That makes sense. The striations of the muscle and the texture of the fat was definitely similar. I remember how much you loved that sauce I made back then, so I made some more,” He paused. “D’you want them griddled?”

“Sure, Curly-brows, sounds good.”

“Cool. I’ll bring them to you in a couple hours for snack time.”

They fell back into their usual rhythm at the sink. Water sloshed as the cook wiped and rinsed the plates clean, handing off each item to Zoro for drying. Zoro tried to keep his focus on each dish in his hand, but occasionally their fingers would brush, sending a tingle up his arm, and he struggled to keep himself from staring at the cook’s long, slender fingers and the twitching tendons and muscles in his forearms as he worked.

When the last dish was put away, the air in the galley felt oddly thick with anticipation. Sanji dried his hands off on the towel he kept tucked into the ties of his apron. Zoro’s mouth felt a little dry, but it felt silly to ask for a glass of water just after doing the dishes, so he just left to go train.

🍙🍙🍙

Later that afternoon, the hatch of the trapdoor into the crow’s nest opened and a crown of golden hair poked through.

“Hey, Marimo, you want your snack?” the cook asked, not bothering to come all the way into the room.

Zoro looked at him, surprised to be asked and not just tossed a plate like usual. “Uh, sure, just put it down and I’ll grab it in a second.”

The cook didn’t move from the trapdoor but rolled his cigarette around like he sometimes did when he was nervous. “Um, actually, I left it in the galley. So, you’ll have to come get it yourself.”

Suddenly, the cook was gone, the trapdoor swinging shut behind him, leaving Zoro feeling very confused and a little annoyed that his workout was being interrupted. But since he was hungry, he gathered his swords, put his robe back on, and headed down to the kitchen to see what the idiot cook was going on about.

In the galley, Sanji was unwrapping about a dozen perfect pyramids of rice onto the counter as a familiar smelling sauce cooled on the stove. Two other steaming bowls of what looked like meat and rice sat on the counter as well.

“What’s all this, Curly-brows?” Zoro asked. “I thought you had already made the onigiri.”

Sanji looked up, slightly startled, as if he had forgotten Zoro was joining him in the galley.

“Oh! Right. Yeah. I said that. Well, I thought maybe we could make some more of them together and I could show you how to make yakionigiri.”

Zoro blinked. That was unexpected . “Uh, sure. Sounds… good?”

He could count on one hand the number of times the cook had allowed him behind the counter while he cooked for the crew on either the Sunny or the Merry. Everything about this screamed “wrong” and “different” but he couldn’t bring himself to resist the individual attention. 

“Wash your hands first,” Sanji directed, “then come stand next to me.”

Zoro did as instructed, rolling up the sleeves of his robe as best as he could.

“Do you know what you’re doing Mosshead, or do you need me to walk me through it?”

“I’ve made onigiri before, but not since I was a kid. I don’t think we ever bothered with grilling it though. Sounds tasty.”

Sanji nodded, “Right, then I guess I don’t need to completely dumb things down for you. First, pass me the pan of sauce. We’re gonna make some more of the filling. It’s that same sauce I made for the dinosaurs. Pour some of that on the bowl of meat cubes.”

Zoro took the pan, enjoying the aroma of the soy sauce, sugar, and vinegar as it wafted toward him. He poured the mixture over the meat and took the rubber spatula Sanji offered him to combine the ingredients.

“Okay, let that sit. Now, I can’t remember, are you right- or left-handed?”

“Either, actually.”

Sanji rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Of course you’re ambidextrous.” Pulling a small bowl of water toward them, he then said at normal volume, “Alright, get your hands damp and dab a little salt on each palm. Then pick one hand to be the rice hand and one hand to be the working hand.”

Zoro salted his hands and grabbed a small amount of rice into his right hand, looking at Sanji for approval before reaching for a spoonful of the dragon meat in the bowl. Sanji nodded, grabbing his own rice and a smaller portion of meat. Together, they each pressed a small divot into the rice before placing the meat and then grabbed another small handful of rice.

“You’re gonna want to squeeze these a little tighter together than you normally would, since we don’t want them falling apart when we grill them,” Sanji demonstrated how to form the shape of the onigiri and then placed it to the side. They repeated the process in a comfortable silence, the pile of rice balls growing as they went. Zoro tried not to acknowledge it, but Sanji’s onigiri really were so much better looking than his.

“Think we’ve got enough here, Cook? This is probably more than just a snack at this point.”

“Huh? Oh, shit, wasn’t paying attention. Yeah this is probably enough. We can just serve these with dinner. We’ll probably need the back up with Law, the samurai, the kid, and the gas bag anyway.”

“I wish we could just let the clown starve because of the shit he was doing to those kids,” Zoro grumbled. “It’s fucked to hell to do experiments on kids.”

Sanji made a weird noise at that. “Well, you know I won’t let anyone starve on my watch, no matter how shitty they are.”

That’s what makes you as good as Luffy, Zoro thought. “Well, what’s next then, Shit-cook? We gonna grill these?”

“Yeah, shithead, take the platter and head over to the stove. I gotta grab some parchment paper for the pan.”

“What for?”

“I’ve found that no matter how well-seasoned my skillet is, rice always wants to stick to it. So, when I make yakionigiri for you assholes, I line the pan with parchment to keep the balls from sticking and breaking, especially when they’re filled.”

“Huh. I guess that makes sense. And they still get toasted even with the paper?”

Sanji gave him a Look. “Have I ever served you anything that was subpar?”

Zoro shot him an equally withering glare in return. “You literally put razor blades in my bento before we went to Punk Hazard.”

“And I didn’t hear you complaining about it.”

Zoro rolled his eye. “What’s next, Cook? I’m getting hungry from all this work you’re making me do just to get my snack.”

The cook laid the parchment paper over the preheated skillet and then took six of the rice balls off the tray Zoro was holding. “First, we’re gonna let the balls toast on each side until they get crispy and golden, then we’ll brush them with sauce before toasting a second time to really punch up the flavor.”

A comfortable calm blanketed the galley as the onigiri toasted. Zoro was reluctant to break the calm with clumsy attempts at small talk, even though he felt compelled to try. This was the first time he and the cook had been alone like this since the crew reunited. But there was something about Sanji purposefully turning Zoro’s snack into hanging out together that felt different . And he just wanted to bask in that feeling. 

So he did. 

They’d have time to talk again soon, after all.

Chapter Text

The Fire Festival was in two days. All the preparations that had been developing for the past twenty years would be coming together in less than forty-eight hours.The Straw Hats were all bustling around making sure that all members of the Ninja-Pirate-Mink-Samurai Alliance were fully supplied for the upcoming battle. Franky and Usopp were finishing up work at Itachi Port with the other shipwrights. Nami and Robin were going over strategy with Carrot, Wanda, and the other Minks. Chopper was organizing his medical supplies between playing dress-up with Brook and Luffy. And Zoro had cut a cliff apart when Sanji had antagonized him about the differences in their bounties. 

In his makeshift kitchen in Amigasa Village, Sanji surveyed the supplies they’d stolen from Kaido’s men with a careful eye. They had a lot of rice and a decent supply of preserved filling options for onigiri like bonito flakes and umeboshi. Plus he could always go to the Sunny and break into his secret stash of emergency rations in the infirmary, assuming Luffy hadn’t managed to destroy it when he attempted to cook en route to Tottoland.

“It’s disgusting that we had to steal this shit at all,” Sanji grumbled to himself as he started cooking the rice. He thought about what Luffy had said about when he met Otama and what the others had said about S.M.I.L.E. fruits and Ebisu Town. He kicked the bottom of the counter in a rage. What gave Kaido the right to force these people into famine while he feasted?

One of the others using the kitchen jumped at his outburst. He tried to give her his warmest smile, but he was pretty sure it just looked like a grimace. “Could you be a dear and watch this rice for me? I need to go to my ship and get something.” She nodded and he left. Maybe a walk would help him cool off.

🍙🍙🍙

Canned meats obtained, head feeling slightly clearer, Sanji lit a cigarette and strolled back to the kitchen.

“Zorojuro! Zorojuro! Watch this!” Momonuske shouted as he swung his bamboo sword in an intricate move.

The green-haired bastard glanced up from where he was tending to his newest cursed sword. “That’s great, kid, but remember, most of swordsmanship is about control.” His steel grey eye locked onto Sanji, who hadn’t realized he’d stopped walking. “Control and trust. You have to have control over your weapons and trust that they will aid you. Without that trust, more people will get hurt than you intend.”

Sanji suspected that the last part wasn’t just about swords. Or directed at Momo. He broke their staring contest and quickly walked back to the kitchen.

“Fucking Mosshead,” he grumbled, sour mood returning. He plunked the cans of tuna and luncheon meat on the counter, then began pulling out bowls and the other ingredients he needed. “What does he know about trust?” Literally everything and you damn well know it.  

“Not my fault Bege beat him to Zou. Maybe if he’d gotten there faster, he could have stopped me.” 

But Sanji knew that was a stupid argument. Zou was a perpetually moving civilization and Zoro was in the middle of helping Luffy take down a warlord when Bege got him. Even if Zou had been stationary, they still probably wouldn’t have caught up in time. 

On top of that, if Nami had been unable to convince him to stay or wait, what could the mosshead have done? 

You know what , said the voice in Sanji’s head that he’d been trying to ignore for well over two years at this point. 

Well, it’s no use thinking about that now. Zoro clearly didn’t feel the same way as Sanji, since he wasn’t part of the rescue party to Whole Cake Island and had barely looked at him since the crew reunited. Hell, if the rumors from Brook were to be believed, he had been cozying up with Momo’s sister during the separation. Clearly, he’d moved on if he ever even felt sort of the same. 

And who could blame him? Lady Hiyori was one of the most beautiful women on the planet; she’d entrusted her father’s sword to Zoro and had lived through so much tragedy from so young. Meanwhile, his looks were always the focus of Zoro’s insults. Not to mention, he had committed the greatest sin in the swordsman’s eyes: abandoning his crew, fighting his captain, and not trusting that they would be willing or able to help him fight his own battles.

A knock on the counter jerked Sanji out of his spiral, startling him so badly that he almost threw the knife he’d been using to chop up the canned luncheon meat at the intruder.

“Whoa, Cook, didn’t mean to freak you out. I’m just looking for a drink,” rumbled the star of Sanji’s panic spiral.

Sanji just glared, trying to disguise his anxiety with irritation, with normalcy. “I’m not freaking out, Marimo.” Zoro raised an eyebrow, Sanji rolled his eyes. “I’m… focusing. Tomorrow’s a big day and I want to make sure everyone has snacks for the battle. We don’t know how long everything is going to take.”

Zoro looked skeptical. “So you’re going to make snacks for hundreds of fighters?” Sanji nodded as Zoro continued, “What’re you gonna make?”

Sanji looked pointedly at the onigiri ingredients on the counter. “What do you think I’m making, dumbass?”

Zoro scanned the counter, taking in the ingredients, his eye lighting up with recognition. “Do you need help?” he asked, an almost eager gleam sneaking onto his usually stoic features. 

Sanji almost swallowed his cigarette in shock. Helping each other wasn’t something he and Zoro did , especially not unprompted. “Why would you want to do that?”

Zoro shrugged. “Figured you could use an extra set of hands if you’re gonna make hundreds of onigiri. No skin off my back if you wanna do it yourself though.”

Sanji wrestled with his thoughts. On the one hand, the moss was right, an extra set of hands would be helpful, even if those hands were large, calloused, and attached to a smelly brute. On the other hand, they hadn’t had a sustained conversation about anything that wasn’t directly happening in front of them or related to the broader group’s plans since Sanji reunited with the crew in Wano.

On a third hand… Zoro was pretty reliable about being able to maintain a companionable silence and not starting uncomfortable conversations… Sanji was the one who couldn’t stand silence for very long…

“Sure, fine, whatever. But I maintain the right to kick you out of the kitchen if I find your output unsatisfactory.”

“Fair enough,” Zoro grumbled, moving to the sink to wash his hands. Sanji was not impressed by that action happening without instructions.

“Let’s get the fillings prepped before we do anything else. I’ve got umeboshi and mentaiko, which are pretty much ready to go. There’s a bowl of bonito flakes waiting for soy sauce to make okaka. I was going to make some extra salmon in a minute because I know the Heart Pirates are fond of it and I don’t have a lot of salted salmon. I’m in the middle of chopping the luncheon meat I usually use for you. How about you open those tuna cans and drain them, then get started on the okaka? We can make the mayonnaise while the salmon cooks.” 

Zoro had a stupid look on his face. “Hello? Mosshead? Are you actually going to help?” Sanji shoved the can opener into his hands. Zoro startled as if he’d been lost in thought, then nodded and started opening the tuna cans and draining the juice into a cup.

That was unexpectedly thoughtful too. Have I ever actually said I like to keep the liquid from the tuna can? Whatever. Maybe his new sword is melting his brain just like it tried to eat his arm.  

They worked in silence for a few minutes before Zoro suddenly stopped and looked at Sanji with a panicked expression. “Wait a second, Curly, where’d you get that salmon? Because a lot of the fish I’ve eaten here ended up making me feel sick and I only found out once Luffy got here that it was because the rivers are all polluted to hell.”

Sanji gaped at Zoro, unable to respond, hands hovering over the salmon he was preparing. There were so many things that were bizarre about what Zoro had just said. “I brought it with me, on ice, from the Flower Capital. The fish there were fine. But holy shit, the fact that you even felt the need to ask is infuriating.” Zoro pouted a little. “No, man, it’s not the implication that I would ever serve poisonous food, even unintentionally (but now that I think about it, what the fuck, asshole?), just the fact that this shithole is in such a state that it’s not a crazy thing to be concerned about.”

He resisted the urge to kick the counter again, the look the woman earlier had given him still on his mind. “It’s just so… fucked. Even fucking Doflamingo didn’t starve the people of Dressrosa.”

“Yeah, but he had one of his minions turn anyone who looked at him weird into toys that were forgotten by everyone who ever knew them and used as slave labor.”

“And Big Mom literally eats the souls of her children and subjects. And the king of Germa sees his children as experiments and has an army of clone soldiers he considers disposable. Everyone with power in this world is fucked. But Kaido’s the first one we’ve met who actively is withholding food from the population by poisoning most of it.” Sanji let out a huge sigh. “Point is, all this shit is fucked.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

Sanji snorted, “Heh, I think that’s the first time we’ve ever agreed on something that wasn’t related to Luffy.”

Zoro smirked at that as he went to pour the soy sauce over the bonito flakes, then paused. “Wait, Big Mom eats souls?” He looked horrified.

“Well, not exactly,” Sanji thought for a moment. “Brook and Nami said she has some sort of soul-related Devil Fruit powers going on and Pudding told me about the ‘Life Tax’ that every resident of Tottoland pays for Big Mom’s protection. It’s like a portion of their soul or life force or something. Plus I had to recreate the wedding cake to stop her from rampaging and destroying Tottoland out of hunger.” Sanji shrugged. “So, her eating souls doesn’t seem too far-fetched.”

Zoro looked thoughtful, then asked, oddly shyly, “Who’s Pudding?”

Sanji paused, unsure how to answer. “Pudding? Ah, she’s one of Big Mom’s daughters.”

Zoro nodded curtly, understanding the unspoken rest of the statement.

They worked in silence, the only sounds Zoro’s knife chopping ingredients into smaller pieces for fillings and Sanji cracking eggs into a bowl, separating the whites and the yolks, and mixing some spices with dashi and vinegar.

“You take care of everything that needed to be done?” Zoro asked quietly.

Sanji regarded him thoughtfully. “Yeah, best I could.”

“Good.”

Sanji cleared his throat and took the opportunity to change the subject. “Here, start whisking these egg yolks. We’re gonna make mayonnaise.” He shoved the bowl of egg yolks and a whisk at the swordsman. “Stir those really fast without spilling and keep the bowl steady while I add in the rest of the ingredients.”

Looking determined, Zoro set to work whisking as Sanji poured in the spices and vinegar mixture. Next, he slowly poured neutral cooking oil down the side of the bowl, smirking when he saw Zoro’s eye widen in fascination as the emulsification process began.

Sanji chuckled as Zoro continued to work the ingredients into a smooth, creamy, white substance, looking utterly enthralled by the act of creation.

I wonder how often he’s been able to use his strength to create instead of destroy? Probably not often, based on that adorable look on his face. Sanji shook his head violently. No! Not adorable! Stupid! Stupid marimo with dumb brute strength who isn’t even a little bit cute.

After a few minutes, Sanji had poured the last of the oil into the bowl and let Zoro whisk a couple minutes longer to fully incorporate the ingredients.

“Alright, you can stop, Marimo,” Sanji said. “Let’s see how this turned out.” He dragged his index finger along the edge of the bowl, gathering up a dollop of mayonnaise, and popping it into his mouth. “Hmm… needs a little more salt.” He reached with his other hand and took a big pinch of salt, sprinkling it into the mayonnaise and then whisking to incorporate. Using a clean finger, he tasted another dollop. “Mmm, much better.”

He finally noticed the slightly slack-jawed look on Zoro’s face and an idea came to mind. Smirking slightly and looking at Zoro through lowered lashes, he slowly dragged his middle finger along the edge of the bowl once more and presented it to Zoro, as if flipping him off. “You want a taste?”

Zoro stared at him and gulped. Then nodded, leaning forward, tongue sticking out slightly, to lick the mayonnaise off Sanji’s finger. Time seemed to stand still until suddenly the door to the kitchen burst open and shattered the tension of the moment.

“SAAAAANJIIII! Whatcha makin’?!” yelled Luffy. Zoro snapped his jaw shut and hurriedly stepped away as a rubber hand flew in and grabbed Sanji’s wrist. The captain shoved the entire hand into his mouth when his head caught up with his limbs and smacked his lips together. “Mmm tasty! Whatcha usin’ mayonnaise for?”

“EURGH! Luffy! Gross!” Sanji screeched. “Don’t shove someone’s hand down your throat! Disgusting!”

Sanji shoved the bowl of mayonnaise at Zoro for safekeeping and went to wash his hand. “Don’t touch anything! I’ll make you a snack in a second, shitty rubber.”

He washed his hands and pulled out some jerky strips from a cupboard. Handing them to Luffy, he said, “There you go. Now, was there anything else you came in here for, or can the moss and I get back to making snacks for tomorrow’s battle?”

At the idea of future snacks, Luffy’s eyes sparkled for a moment as he gnawed on his jerky. “Oh yeah! Franky said that he’s gonna make some extra Baby Den-Den Mushis for the crew so we can keep in touch during the battle. Do you want to make sure you have one?”

Zoro made a dismissive noise and said, “Nah, I’ll be where you need me, when you need me. That’s all that matters.”

Luffy nodded, “And you, Sanji?”

“Eh, I’ll grab one just in case. Never know if one of the ladies might need me to save them.”

Zoro rolled his eye and Luffy laughed. “Alrighty, I’ll make sure there’s one for you. Thanks for the meat!” And as quickly as he had arrived, the rubber man bounced out of the kitchen, holding a fistful of jerky.

A slightly awkward silence settled over the kitchen before Sanji turned to Zoro and said, “Well, Mosshead, I think we’ve got all our prep done. Wanna get started on rolling these rice balls?”

Zoro nodded, tying his yukata sleeves around his waist so they wouldn’t get into the food and washed his hands once more.

🍙🍙🍙

In the dim candlelight of the side room he’d found in Kaido’s Palace, Sanji hefted the semi-conscious bulk of Zoro from his shoulder onto a table.

Examining his broken body, Sanji murmured, “Oh, Marimo, what am I gonna do with you?” He felt in his pocket for his lighter, but first hit something (well, two somethings) larger. Remembering that he had taken a second Baby Transponder Snail last night, he had an idea. 

Before he started to truss up the broken body of his friend and crewmate, he gently tucked one of the snails into the bright green haramaki that had been their companion since the East Blue. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use it. But… just in case…

Chapter Text

They hadn’t really talked much since he woke up after the battle on Onigashima. Not that they really talked much before, especially not since Sanji got back from Whole Cake Island. They were busy. Zoro had been on the run when Sanji got back. Saving Toko took priority. He had to learn how to use Enma. They were prepping for a battle. They were in the middle of a battle. Zoro could make excuses until he was blue in the face. But he knew that they needed to talk about That. Sanji said he was fine now, but something still seemed off. It was an unspoken truth that their rivalry wasn’t actually based in animosity (anymore), but they had almost said the quiet part out loud when Sanji called him during his fight with King. Now they were leaving Wano and Zoro still didn’t understand why . 

Why did Sanji ask him to do that ? 

Why did Sanji ask him to do that? 

Why did Sanji ask him to do that?

He always worked in threes. And now he had three promises to keep him going. To Kuina: to become the world’s greatest swordsman. To Luffy: to help him become King of the Pirates. To Sanji: to kill him if he asks him to. Three promises for the three most important people in his life. But he didn’t want to keep his promise to Sanji. Especially since he still didn’t understand why .

He paused his kata. They really needed to talk. About Them . Even if Sanji didn’t feel the same way as Zoro, it was probably as good a time as any to lay things out. But, knowing the cook, he was going to have to approach things with a little more caution than usual. Maybe a peace offering? What could he even do or give that would work? Cigarettes would be stupid. He’s too in debt to buy a nice bottle of wine or a new tie or anything like that (not that he even would know what to buy). Maybe he needed to (ugh) ask for help. 

🍙🍙🍙

His first thought was to ask Luffy. His captain understood each member of the crew better than themselves sometimes, so it would stand to reason that he might have an idea. In the name of inter-crew harmony. Zoro found Luffy basking in the sun on Sunny’s figurehead. Unsure if his captain was even awake, he just launched into his question. “What would you give someone who you think thinks you’re mad at them to convince them you’re not mad at them?”

Luffy snickered from underneath the straw hat laying on his face. “Zoro, I have no idea what that means. Just tell Sanji everything’s okay.” 

He scoffed, “Who said I’m talking about Sa- the shit cook?”

That got the captain to roll over and look up at him. Zoro’s eye narrowed. Damn kid was too perceptive for his own good. “Anything I tell Zoro wouldn’t work, because Zoro and Sanji talk to each other differently. Zoro has to figure this out himself.”

Zoro glared and then stomped away, undeterred.

🍙🍙🍙

His second thought was to ask Usopp. He didn’t go down into the workshops below deck very often, but he found him eventually. Without any preamble, he stepped in front of Usopp’s workbench and asked, “If you thought I was mad at you and you wanted to convince me otherwise, what would you do?” 

“Is this before or after I’ve pissed my pants about you being mad at me?” Usopp deadpanned before dropping the screwdriver and mechanism in his hand in a panic. “Oh my god, are you mad at me? What did I do?” 

Zoro rolled his eye. “Shut up, Longnose, no, I’m not mad at you. I’m not mad at anyone on the ship. But I think someone thinks I am.” 

A suspiciously knowledgeable look crossed Usopp’s face before flattening into an exaggeratedly pensive pose. “Ahhh. Um. Well, if this totally hypothetical situation applied to me, I’d probably try to either get Sanji to give me a bottle of sake to give you or con him into making you some onigiri for me to give you. You know, a treat to show I care. Maybe personalized somehow. Like I’d ask Sanji to specifically use your favorite filling or something.” 

Zoro thought about this. “Hmm, that’s a good idea. Thanks. Wanna help me?” 

Usopp looked like Zoro had asked him to hide Franky’s cola. “Uh, no. I think I’m coming down with a case of I-Can’t-Meddle-In-My-Friends’-Personal-Lives-Even-If-They-Ask Disease. Bye!”

Zoro was shooed out of the workshop, up an idea, but no clue how to execute it.

🍙🍙🍙

His third and final avenue was Robin. And either luckily or unluckily, he knew she knew everything. So he didn’t have to hide anything. 

He found her reading a book in the sun sipping from an elaborate beverage. As before, he launched into his concerns without so much as a greeting or any other pleasantries. “I think the cook thinks I’m mad at him and I want to tell him I’m not.”

She glanced up from her book, smirking softly. “Have you tried using your words?” 

“Please. Have you met us? Brook has a better chance of seeing women’s underwear than the cook and I do at having a non-violent conversation about this.” 

“Hmmm, you make a salient point. I take it you have something in mind?”

“Yeah. I wanna make him onigiri. But I want to make the filling really special.”

Robin smiled one of her small, secret smiles. “Oh? And what would that be?” 

Zoro scratched his neck. “Well… you know how he loves spicy seafood pasta? I was thinking… that… is that crazy?”

“It’s a bit odd, but I think the sentiment more than makes up for the novelty. It sounds like you already know what you want to do though. Why do you need my help?” 

“Because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing and you know everything. Plus whenever I make this thing, I’ll need help keeping him out of the kitchen long enough for me to cook.”

“Not only that, but you’ll probably need someone to run interference to keep Luffy out of the galley as well,” Robin tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Would you be open to some help from anyone else on the crew with this? Perhaps Jinbei or Brook?”

Zoro raised his eyebrow. “I hadn’t really thought about it… I was trying not to make a big deal out of things. Why those two specifically?”

“For one, they’re probably the most likely to remain discreet about the whole thing without also trying to extort you like our dear navigator would. Jinbei in particular might be able to help with gathering ingredients, depending on the recipe you’ve chosen. You have chosen a recipe, right?” Zoro shrugged awkwardly under Robin’s pointed stare. “No matter, I’ll help you with that. And as for Brook, well, he’s been rooting for the two of you since he joined the crew.” Robin winked.

Zoro stared at her, slightly dumbfounded at this new information. “Why are you so willing to help with this? And why are you so confident that Brook and Jinbei will want to help too? Jinbei barely knows us.”

“Believe it or not, my dear swordsman, you’re not the only person on this crew who cares deeply for our cook.”

🍙🍙🍙

A few days later, the Thousand Sunny had docked at a small island to quickly restock before the log pose setting changed and Zoro started on Phase One of his Plan. Phase One consisted of gathering ingredients for the filling. About a day after his conversation with Robin, she revealed two recipes for spicy seafood pasta that she had transcribed from Sanji’s cooking notebook and they put together a shopping list. Unfortunately, he hadn’t thought of yet another tricky part of his Plan: he was usually locked into grocery shopping with the cook for the first part of an island visit and wouldn't be able to sneak off to do his own shopping without arousing suspicion. So, Robin was going to sneakily trail after Zoro and Sanji, purchasing the tomatoes, garlic, and spices that Zoro would need. Meanwhile, Jinbei had eagerly agreed to take care of gathering the shellfish, shrimp, and squids for Zoro.

Zoro adjusted a crate of produce and looked over his shoulder as subtly as he could. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a purple cowboy hat talking to a vendor he and the cook had just left. He picked up his pace, hoping to put more distance between them and the archeologist before Sanji noticed her.

He stumbled and bumped into the cook’s back as he misjudged their destination. 

“Dammit, Mosshead, I know you’re down an eye but pay attention where you’re walking,” Sanji sniped, adjusting his suit and smoothing out non-existent wrinkles. “We’ve still got a lot to restock.”

“Whatever, Shit-cook,” Zoro replied, resisting the urge to apologize. The onigiri would be enough of an apology. Hopefully. 

Noticing their next stop was a grains and rice vendor, he took a gamble. “Hey, can we get some extra rice? I’m trying to bulk up a bit before we run into the next mess.”

Sanji looked him over from head to toe, taking a long drag on his cigarette. (Is the shit-cook checking me out right now?) He exhaled the smoke and rolled his eyes, looking entirely unaffected (Maybe not), “I think you’ve got plenty of bulk, you musclebound gorilla. But yeah, I’ll make sure to get extra.”

“Cool, thanks.” Score. Now I don’t have to be worried that I’m gonna fuck up his inventory.

They continued shopping, bickering as usual whenever Sanji got particularly twirly over a vendor. Zoro was constantly checking over his shoulder for Robin, but luckily, the cook never seemed to spot her, though he did raise a curly eyebrow at Zoro on the couple of occasions he noticed the swordsman looking around, only for Zoro to wave him off when he expressed concern of potential trouble. 

🍙🍙🍙

The next day was Execution Day. Well, Plan Execution Day. Zoro wanted to make sure the shellfish and squids Jinbei caught were as fresh as possible and that wasn’t going to be happening if the ship was actively moving. So, at breakfast, Robin mused about how nice it would be to have a barbecue that afternoon, since the crew hadn’t had one in awhile. Luffy, obviously, was immediately on board with this idea and began a chant of “Meat! Meat! Meat!” while he was still plowing through the remnants of breakfast. Zoro was surprised though to see how easily Nami and Franky started talking up the idea of a barbecue. Nami was enthusiastically supportive, stating that the weather looked like it was going to be beautiful all day long. And Franky started babbling about some new improvements he had made to the grill that he just had to have Sanji test out.

To be honest, Zoro was a little suspicious about how agreeable they were acting.

The rest of the crew started babbling about their plans for the afternoon and Zoro could see Sanji’s reluctance crumpling like a paper bag the more the girls especially were getting excited. Eventually, he folded and said, “Alright, alright, fine, I’ll adjust my menu plan and we can grill this afternoon.”

Robin caught Zoro’s eye and gave him a surreptitious wink. Looks like Step Two is a go. He took a final drink of his morning tea and started gathering everyone’s dirty dishes to take to the sink.

“What are you doing, Mosshead?” Sanji asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Just getting the dishes started so you can get the barbecue going faster,” Zoro said breezily as he rolled up his sleeves. “It’s been a while since you’ve grilled up anything good, so I figure you need maximum prep time.”

Sanji glared, clearly trying to figure out if there was an insult in the statement, then started in on the rest of the dishes as the crew filed out. They washed up in relative silence, only the clinking of crockery and cutlery accompanying the tune Sanji hummed. Zoro had a shit ear for music, but he thought he recognized the song as one of Brook’s.

Once they were finished, Sanji shooed him out and he headed up to the crow’s nest to get a heavy workout in to make up for the workout he would be skipping that afternoon. He was surprised to see Robin sitting on the bench by the window.

“Zoro, just letting you know that the ice chest and bags of the ingredients Jinbei and I obtained for you yesterday are in the women’s quarters. Once lunch is underway, Nami and I will make sure to keep Sanji occupied during the afternoon. We’ll get you as much time as we can but I can only promise a couple hours before he figures things out. You have permission to sneak into our room and get the supplies while he’s occupied.”

Robin disappeared in a poof of petals and Zoro realized it was one of the doubles she could now make.

Plan in place for how to begin Step Two, he threw himself into his workout with gusto. 

Around noon, he decided to take a pause to observe the crew on deck and gauge whether he was going to be safe to sneak around the deck. 

Nearly the entire crew was gathered around Usopp and Luffy’s favorite fishing spot, looking out to the ocean. Perfect. Time to go.

He climbed down the rope ladder as quickly as possible and snuck into the girls’ quarters, carefully closing the door behind him. Luckily, the ice chest was just inside the door, so he was able to gather it up and get back out with ease. 

As he approached the staircase to the galley, he heard Usopp’s raised voice declaring, “No, Sanji! You don’t need to get any containers from the galley! I can just put the fish in my pockets! They’re called ‘cargo pants’ for a reason, after all!”

Zoro smirked and picked up the pace as Sanji started shrieking about how ridiculous it would be to store fish in one’s pockets and Luffy, Jinbei, and Brook laughed loudly. Luckily, as Zoro made it to the top of the stairs, he heard Franky saying, “Don’t worry, Cook-bro! I’ve got a big bucket right here by the grill so we have maximum efficiency grilling up these babies!” The coast was once again clear.

Step Two complete. Now the real work begins.

When he had read through the two recipes Robin copied from Sanji’s notebook, they both sounded familiar, but he had chosen the one that was more complicated and more interesting that involved multiple forms of seafood and tomatoes, as opposed to the other one that was mostly just cod roe and butter. Looking at the ice chest he’d just snuck across the deck as he laid out the rest of the other ingredients on the counter, he was starting to regret this decision.

Luckily, Sanji seemed to write his recipes as if his notebook was going to be published by the World Economic Journal or something, so every step for preparing the seafood was written out. If this was Sanji’s favorite food, there’s no way he didn’t know how to do all this by heart, but Zoro was now exceedingly grateful for his crewmate’s neuroses.

The first thing he did was start the rice cooker so it would be done when he was finished messing with the filling. He cleaned the clams and mussels of their sand and gunk, then poured the cleaned shells into a hot saute pan of olive oil. He covered them to steam for a few minutes so the shells could open. Once opened, he strained the cooking liquid into a separate container and removed the meat from the shells. Next, he cleaned and sliced the squids Jinbei had caught, saving the entrails for the chum bucket Sanji always kept on hand for people to use as fish bait. Then he shelled and deveined the shrimp, saving the shells and heads for Sanji to use for seafood stock. Finally, he washed the cherry tomatoes and cut them in half. 

He heated some more olive oil in the saute pan and added garlic (Sanji always said to add at least one clove beyond the listed amount in the recipe… but this was Sanji’s recipe… he’d still do two cloves just to be safe) and some chili flakes. Once the garlic cloves were golden brown, he added in the squid and a pinch of salt. As the squid seared, he realized he hadn’t figured out what wine he was going to use for the next step of the recipe. He was tempted to use sake, because he actually understood sake, but didn’t want to tempt fate on a peace offering. He skimmed through the wine cabinet, cursing himself for not paying better attention to Mihawk and Perona’s attempts to teach him about wine on Kuraigana. 

Shit. I didn’t even consider how he’d react to me using his wine. All I know is which type is which, barely, I have no idea about the cost of some of these… and what if there’s something already open? Would that be better? He looked at the locked fridge. Double shit… I don’t know the combo for the fridge lock…

As if on cue, a floral scent wafted through the galley. “How are things going in here, Zoro?” Robin’s double asked. 

“Everything was going fine but I think I need to get into the fridge.”

“Ah, good thing I decided to check on you,” Robin smiled. “One moment.”

She quickly unlocked the fridge, which, as suspected, contained a couple bottles of half-used wine.

“Robin, you drink wine sometimes, right? Would one of these be better or worse to use? I don’t want the cook killing me over this.”

She peered into the fridge and pointed at one of the bottles. “That pinot grigio should suffice. It’s pretty common, so it’s easy to restock, but it’s by no means a poor quality wine. I think it’s his primary cooking choice.”

“Perfect. Thanks.” Zoro grabbed the wine and then stood awkwardly, waiting for Robin to leave but not wanting to be obvious about it. 

“Well, if everything is alright in here, then I’ll return to the rest of the crew.” With a small poof of flowers, she was gone. 

Zoro poured himself a small glass of the wine ( Just a quality check… ) and then poured a few splashes into the pan to loosen the squid. Once the wine evaporated, he removed the garlic cloves and added the tomatoes. After the tomatoes started to break down a little, he added the shrimp and seasoned the pan with salt and pepper. Once the shrimp were opaque on both sides, he added the reserved cooking liquid from the clams and mussels, along with the shelled meat. He stirred it all to combine and get evenly coated in the sauce. 

Because the chunks would be annoyingly large in a rice ball, he took out a portion of the seafood mixture and chopped it into smaller pieces, leaving the tomatoes larger. With the rice done and the filling prepped, he grabbed the salt and a bowl of warm water and began forming the onigiri. 

He ended up with three nearly perfect pyramids, which he wrapped in nori and topped one with a small piece of shrimp, one with a piece of mussel, and the third with a tomato and arranged on a plate, placed in front of Sanji’s usual seat at the dining table. The other six less perfect balls were still wrapped in nori, but not decorated or plated. The remaining sauce was kept warm on the stove, in case Sanji wanted to throw it onto some pasta, and Zoro quickly cleaned up the dishes and other mess he had made.

With everything ready, Zoro ran his hand through his hair and quickly tried to think about what he was going to say to Sanji as he looked out the galley window for Robin. When he caught her eye, she raised an eyebrow as if to ask “Ready?” and he nodded in confirmation. He couldn’t hear what was happening on deck but he saw her tap Sanji’s shoulder, causing the idiot to jump and twirl, and she gestured like she needed Sanji to go get something from the galley.

Sanji started bounding up the stairs two at a time, barely giving Zoro time to scramble over to the bar counter to lean casually before the door opened.

“Mosshead? What the fuck are you doing in here?” Sanji asked, squinting suspiciously from the doorframe.

“Hey, Curly,” Zoro said, trying to sound cool and unaffected. “I made you a snack.”

Sanji’s eyes widened. “You did what?” He strode over to the galley proper to investigate, clearly assuming the worst, calming down as he realized nothing smelled burnt or looked out of place. His eyes finally found Zoro’s, who gestured to the onigiri on the table.

“C’mon, Cook, sit down, let me know how I did.”

Sanji still seemed stunned, but he sat down and looked at the plate of onigiri. He picked up the one with the tomato, turning it over in his hand in confusion. Zoro silently encouraged him to eat, maintaining his casual demeanor as best he could.

Finally taking a bite, Sanji’s eyes widened in surprise at the flavors that greeted him. “Wow, Marimo, this is… really something.” He took another bite. “To be honest, I’m kinda impressed. Your onigiri forming has gotten a lot better since the last time we made these.”

Zoro couldn’t help himself, he puffed out his chest with pride. “Well, I had some great motivation.”

Sanji smirked and kept eating. “This is a really interesting choice of filling. Kinda reminds me of my recipe for spicy seafood pasta. Why’d you pick this?”

Zoro, rubbed his neck, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically embarrassed, and mumbled, “... ‘cuz it’s your favorite.”

Sanji paused mid bite and blinked. “You wanna run that by me again? Because I think I misheard you.”

Straightening up and leveling the cook with a confident stare, Zoro repeated, “I made onigiri filled with the sauce from your recipe for spicy seafood pasta because that’s your favorite dish, and I wanted to make something special for you.”

Sanji looked at Zoro as if he were a complete stranger speaking in tongues. “But… why… why do this for me?”

Zoro took a seat next to the cook and placed his hand on the table, resisting the urge to reach out and grab his hand. “Because I wanted to. We haven’t really… talked about…” He paused and tried to restart. “A lot of stuff has happened in the past couple weeks, months, really, and we haven’t really had time to just… breathe. Or talk about any of it.”

Sanji looked at him in confusion as he set the remaining bites of his onigiri on his plate. “Well, yeah, I guess we haven’t, but we never really have. We don’t really ‘talk,’ we just fight.”

Zoro heaved a sigh. “You know that’s not true. Even if it was, I’d still do this. Ever since you came back, you’ve been… different. I don’t know if it’s good or bad, but you’re mad at me and acting like I’m mad at you. When you asked me to kill you during the raid…” Zoro ran his hand through his hair. “I’d do anything for you, but I’m worried.” He looked resolutely at Sanji. “We’re good, Curly.”

A heavy silence fell over the galley. Zoro rarely spoke so much in one go. Sanji looked like he’d just been hit. Zoro was patient though. He’d said the most important things that needed to be said. He could wait for Sanji. He would always wait for Sanji.

“Mosshead… Zoro… I… what?” Sanji sputtered and refused to meet Zoro’s eye, twisting his hands nervously in his lap. “I told you, you don’t need to kill me any more, I got that under control. As for everything else… I’m sorry? I guess I’ve been stressed since my siblings are awful and using the raid suit made me afraid I was going to turn into them…” He looked up. “But how can you not be mad at me? I abandoned the crew right before we were going up against one emperor, essentially picking a fight with another emperor. Hell, I fought Luffy! I said horrible things to him! Of all people, you should hate me!”

Zoro sighed. “I was mad at you. Furious, even. But why should I hold a grudge? You had no choice and the rest is between you and Luffy, not me.” He looked down at the plate of onigiri. “I could never actually hate you. You annoy the shit out of me, but I could never hate you. Never have.”

Sanji stared at Zoro, a parade of emotions flying across his face as they sat in silence at the table. Suddenly, Sanji surged forward from his seat. Zoro felt long fingers threading through his hair and soft lips pressing firmly against his. Before he had a moment to react or kiss the cook back, the pressure was retreating. Sanji’s face was bright red and he looked like he wanted to throw himself overboard. He wasn’t getting away that easily.

Before he could retreat any further, Zoro grabbed the cook’s arm, keeping it from leaving his hair and stood them both up, bringing his other hand to cup the cook’s face. He slowly brushed his thumb over Sanji’s sharp cheekbone, cataloging every imperfection he felt under his palm as an intrinsic part of the handsome face before him. He gently moved his hand back to thread through Sanji’s fine golden waves and closed what little distance remained between them.

It was easier to adjust to the kiss than expected, probably thanks to their equal heights. He released Sanji’s arm and wrapped his arm around Sanji’s waist, pulling him flush against him. Sanji let out a small gasp, allowing Zoro to nip at Sanji’s lower lip. They both tightened their grips on the other’s hair and began a back-and-forth for control of the kiss, like a spar.

Eventually though, they had to come up for air. They knocked their foreheads together, just like when they would bicker and yell at each other, but somehow softer, and just breathed, holding the other close.

“Curls, you said you have everything handled, but if anything changes, I want to know. You don’t have to fight any of your battles alone.” Zoro rubbed his hands up and down Sanji’s shoulders, pouring everything he still couldn’t quite say into his touch, feeling the cook relax minutely into the gesture.

Sanji sighed and blinked, a fat tear rolling down his cheek, which Zoro wiped away. “I know, Marimo, thank you.”

They stood together, simply holding each other and breathing, for a few minutes. Sanji broke the embrace first and dropped a simple peck on Zoro’s cheek, right where his eye scar ended. “We can pick this up again later. I’m behind on dinner prep.” The cook smirked at the pout on Zoro’s face as he walked away. “Luckily, someone was kind enough to make some spicy seafood sauce, so I can just make some pasta so it isn’t wasted.” He paused as he headed toward the pantry. “Or should I just make some more rice and we can make it into onigiri for the rest of the crew?”

Zoro smiled and nodded, his heart filled with love, “Let’s do that, Cook.”

🍙🍙🍙