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Zeff knew for a fact that Sanji didn’t have any friends.
Okay, it wasn’t like it was the boy’s fault, even with his easy temper and nasty habit of kicking the shit out of anyone who pissed him off. Sanji was, despite his best efforts, a good kid at heart, and if he had the chance, Zeff was sure that he’d be making tons of friends. A whole boatload of friends.
The issue was that he didn’t have the chance. It wasn’t exactly easy to make friends on a floating restaurant, especially when all the employees were at least five years older than you and saw you as an annoying little brother at best. Every once in a while, though, a family with children would come through. If the kids were close enough to Sanji’s age, Zeff would try to hint to the boy to take a break, go poke at barnacles on the sides of boats or torment a crab or whatever snot-nosed little brats did for fun these days. Sanji never did, always insisting that he had to work, although Zeff would catch him staring longingly from time to time.
Patty had suggested once that maybe the Baratie wasn’t the best environment for a kid to grow up in. Patty had been elbow deep in dishes for a month, and Zeff had spent several nights brooding over a glass of whiskey.
Be all that as it may, Sanji was fourteen now. He had a smoking habit that Zeff was growing increasingly worried about, he was just tall enough to reach all the counters and almost all the cabinets without a stepstool, and he could dice, filet, and flambé with the best cooks in the Baratie’s kitchen. He was also still without any real friends, unless the produce guy’s assistant who only came around once a month counted. But life was good. Sanji was happy. Zeff was happy.
Then food started going missing.
It wasn’t a lot, at first. Carne swore up and down that there had been sausages left over when he’d finished up the day before, but considering the bender the crew had gone on that night, Zeff just pointed to the empty shelf. The other cooks had laughed, teased Carne for getting old, and everyone had moved on. Then, two days later, they had one less sea bass than they’d thought. At the end of the month, the man in charge of inventory reported that they’d gone through rice a bit faster than normal.
It was pretty easy to conclude that, somewhere along the way, they’d picked up an extra passenger. Zeff would, if not gladly, begrudgingly feed anyone on his ship who needed it, but he still would’ve liked to put a face to the mouth that was adding itself to his ledgers.
Eventually, things seemed to go back to normal, and Zeff assumed that their stowaway had moved on. He assumed this right up until he reached for what had been a full bottle of cooking wine not two days ago only to find the damn thing with less than an ounce left at the bottom. He shouted and stomped around the kitchen before Sanji handed him a new bottle with a mocking retort of “get your brain checked, old geezer”.
“Little brat!” Zeff had barked, but as he’d gone back to the fish braising in its pan, his eyes narrowed in sudden thought. The boy was…oddly chipper lately. He was awfully high strung for a fourteen year old. It wasn’t like it was unusual for him to be in a good mood, but he had been nice to Patty the other day. And that was strange.
It wasn’t just that. Sanji, normally so dutiful and driven, had been rushing through his closing tasks and his morning prep, then disappearing at odd hours. Zeff had actually had to go looking for him one morning, only to find him sitting on one of the less-frequented decks next to a large puddle of water. He scurried to Zeff’s side when he was spotted, and when questioned, he claimed he lost track of time watching the fish. Zeff let it go, because what was he supposed to do?
The final straw was the incident with the sword. Zeff had never taught Sanji how to fight with a blade; the boy could already kick like a horse, and he was well on his way to matching Zeff’s skills one day (not that Zeff would tell him that). When Sanji disappeared after the lunch rush with a plate of food, Zeff assumed that he was taking his break. He was a good dad boss. He let his kid employee take breaks.
But when Sanji didn’t return after the usual hour he took to himself, Zeff started to get a little concerned. They had had an unusually busy lunch, followed by an unusual period of calm, so it wasn’t as if they were struggling without Sanji, but it was still unlike the kid. Zeff stomped off to hunt the brat down. “Eggplant?” He called, his peg leg thunking rhythmically on the floor as he made his way through the personal wing of the ship. “Eggplant, did you fall in? You know how to swim, brat.”
He rounded a corner, only to come face to face with the little eggplant in question. Sanji was standing outside a mop closet, his back against the door and a sword in a white scabbard clutched to his chest. “Zeff!” He squeaked. The door of the closet thunked, and Sanji slammed his foot against it. He scowled fiercely. “I was just finishing my lunch break, you old geezer.”
“What’s with the sword?” Zeff asked bluntly. Sanji flushed, hugging the sword tighter. “I thought I told you that a chef needs to protect their hands. Did someone start teaching you sword fighting?”
“No!” Sanji snapped. “A customer left it in the dining area and I was looking after it until he comes back for it.”
“Alright.” Zeff said suspiciously. “Well, bring it to the lost-and-found at the host stand and get back to work. You need to help Patty with dinner prep soon, and you can’t be holding on to a sword while you’re cooking.” He put a hand on Sanji’s shoulder and started leading him back towards the kitchen, only to stop in his tracks when there was another thunk from behind the closet door.
“Broom!” Sanji yelped. He looked up at Zeff with a wide fake smile. “A broom probably fell and the handle hit the door. Come on, old man, let’s go.” He tugged at Zeff’s wrist. “Patty’s gonna fuck up dinner if I’m not there.”
“Alright, alright.” Zeff grunted. He cast one more look at the closet over his shoulder, and tried his best to put the whole thing out of his mind.
At least until that night. He was lying in bed, his door ajar just like it’d been ever since Sanji’s bedroom was finished and they’d moved the brat’s bed out of Zeff’s room and into his new one. One night of waking up to Sanji’s sniffles outside a closed door was enough to permanently melt some part of Zeff’s heart, even when the boy had almost grown out of running to his bed after a nightmare.
Maybe it was the open door, or maybe he was fine-tuned to anything involving the brat, but Zeff’s eyes snapped open when he heard the familiar scrape of Sanji’s bedroom door opening, and the padding of feet as Eggplant snuck out, easing the door shut behind him. Zeff lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, then sighed.
Zeff waited until Sanji’s footsteps faded, then got out of his own bed and followed as quietly as he could down the hall. The peg leg made it difficult, but he was still well versed enough in the art of subterfuge that he kept the thunk-thunk of his steps to a minimum. He was fairly certain he’d find Sanji in the kitchen; the damn brat was born to be a chef, cooking when he should be sleeping like everyone else.
Sure enough, a warm glow emanated from under the door to the galley. Zeff eased the door open, peering inside. Sanji was humming to himself as he mixed something in a bowl; on the counter next to him was a plate with a few completed onigiri stacked neatly in a row. Still, the hairs on the back of Zeff’s neck rose, and he risked pushing the door a little further to get a better look.
His heart nearly fell through the floorboards. On the floor behind Sanji was a dragon. It was the size of a large mastiff or perhaps a small pony, and it was lying on the ground, its head pillowed on long, sharp claws that glinted in the light. The beast was a lovely emerald green that any lady would love to have as a pair of gloves or a nice purse. For some odd reason, it had three golden earrings in one of its ears, the little metal bars tinkling as the beast’s ear twitched. It opened its mouth, showing off its fangs, fangs as long as Zeff’s hand, fangs entirely too close to Sanji’s legs.
“Eggplant.” He said, walking into the galley and trying to project an air of confidence he did not feel, “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
Sanji started with a curse, dropping the onigiri he’d been moulding onto the counter. His eyes were wide when he whirled around and saw Zeff standing in the doorway. He looked…guilty? Behind him, the dragon slowly got to its feet, letting out a low, threatening growl.
“Walk towards me, eggplant.” Zeff said. “Right now. Put that down and come with me, right now.” He knew his tone was deathly serious, and though he’d hoped to avoid frightening Sanji and inadvertently making the situation worse, the dragon seemed to have caught on faster than the stupid boy had.
“Okay.” Sanji said, displaying an unusual meekness. “Just…just let me feed Marimo first, okay? He’s hungry. Let me feed him and then I’ll come with you, I promise.”
Zeff wanted to pinch his nose and sigh. If the brat had already named the damn thing, he was attached, and that was going to make this all the more difficult. Instead, he grit his teeth and held out an arm. “Leave the bowl there. He can get it. Come here.”
Sanji looked from him to the dragon, then set the bowl down on the counter and put the plate on the floor. “There you go.” He whispered, then scurried quickly to Zeff’s side. Zeff grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him out of the galley, slamming the door behind him. Sanji yelped, removing himself from Zeff’s hold the minute the door was shut and looking up at him with wide, accusing eyes. “What…what was that for, old geezer? I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I gave him food, but he was hungry, and you said we should always feed people who are hungry.”
“People, not dragons!” Zeff shouted, his voice booming far more than he meant it to. “You little idiot, that thing could’ve eaten you just as easily as anything you made for it. It’s not some stray cat, it’s a monster!” He remembered seeing beasts the size of ships set entire towns on fire, fangs as long as a grown man, claws that could scour the earth, wings that blocked out the sun.
“But…” Sanji bit his lip. “Never mind. I’ll tell him to leave, okay? Just let him go, please.”
There was a loud thud and the door shook as the dragon threw itself against it with a snarl. Zeff swore under his breath as claws appeared under the door, scratching frantically at the wood. “Marimo, no!” Sanji scolded, pushing Zeff off and throwing open the door. The dragon snarled, its wings held out in a bid to make itself look bigger. It leapt towards Zeff, who readied himself to kick the damn thing to kingdom come, when it fell flat with a yelp.
Sanji had grabbed it by the tail, and he hurriedly knelt on the floor beside the creature’s head. “Don’t attack Zeff, Marimo.” He said, tapping the dragon’s nose. “This is his ship, okay? He’s in charge, and…and he says you have to go.” The boy sniffled, wiping quickly at his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
The dragon set its head on Sanji’s leg with a low groan. It closed its eyes as Sanji scratched along its chin, and damn all of it to hell, Zeff was starting to feel a bit bad for both of them. “Eggplant.” He said gruffly. “You should introduce us.”
Sanji looked up at him, glancing away quickly to hide the tears that were already pooling in his lashes. “This is Marimo.” He said quietly. “I found him resting on the docks with a bunch of cuts. I gave him some food and he flew off, but he keeps coming back. He’s…he’s my friend.”
Zeff knelt on the floor beside Sanji and his strange companion. “Hello, Marimo.” He said, feeling a bit foolish. “I think we might’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. I’m Zeff. That’s my little eggplant you’ve been getting free meals from.” The dragon narrowed its eyes, glancing over at Sanji as if to confirm that Zeff was telling the truth. “Has he been feeding you well enough to keep from eating him?”
The dragon nodded, an expression that Zeff couldn’t help but call offended on its face. It wrapped its tail around Sanji’s ankle and stationed itself firmly in front of him. Zeff’s lips twitched. It seemed that the two of them had something in common. He reached out and patted the thing on the head, between its horns. “You’re fond of him, eh?” He stood up, groaning at the strain in his knee. “You’re going to be the death of me, eggplant. Alright, your dragon friend can stay. But he’s not hanging around in the kitchen anymore!”
Sanji barreled into him, wrapping his arms around his middle. “Thank you thank you thank you!” He said into Zeff’s stomach. He flung himself back around his dragon’s neck. “You can stay, Marimo!” He squealed into the beast’s scaly hide. The dragon made a weird clacking noise, rearing up on its hind legs and flapping its wings. It chased Sanji around the room, the two of them…laughing.
Zeff leaned against the counter, watching the two of them play. Sanji was happy. Sanji was happy because there was a dragon in the kitchen, and it was his friend, and somehow, his uptight and high-strung and lonely boy had been given something special by a world that had only ever handed him pain. “Alright, you two.” He grumbled. “It is far too late for any of us to be up. Back to bed, right now. Come on.” He shepherded the two back towards their sleeping quarters.
Sanji gave him one more hug before climbing into his bed. Zeff tucked the blankets up to his chin, and the dragon hopped up on the bed next to him. It curled around Sanji, its back legs and tail hanging off the little bed, its head resting next to his arm. “Good dragon, you great big cabbage.” Zeff muttered. “Good dragon.”
The next morning, when Sanji didn’t come down at his normal time, Zeff assumed he was sleeping in after his tiring adventure the night before. Still, he stuck his head in the door to make sure everything was fine and the dragon, Marimo, hadn’t accidentally smothered him in his sleep.
The first thing he saw when he looked inside was Sanji’s head of blond hair. The second thing he saw was a head of green hair next to it on the pillow.
It turned out that Marimo preferred to go by Roronoa Zoro, although since he liked to call Sanji “cook”, he wasn’t terribly picky about names.
Sanji checked the kitchen door with his hip, scowling over his shoulder. He stalked towards his first table, a group of kids about his age. One of them was wearing a straw hat, and he was looking around like he’d never been inside a restaurant before. Sanji groaned internally, pasted a wide smile on his face, and stopped in front of the table. “Welcome to the Baratie, where the only thing shittier than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?”
The boy in the straw hat immediately started rambling about meat. Sanji sighed, then turned to his next customer. “And for you?”
Green hair. Three gold earrings in one ear. A white sword at his waist, joined by two others. Sanji blinked, taking a step back as the boy got to his feet. “Hi.” He said gruffly, clearing his throat. “Um. Remember me?”
Before Sanji could say anything, the boy set his swords down and shook his shoulders. Between one blink of the eye and the next, the boy was gone and a large green dragon was standing in his place. The creature was about two feet taller than a large horse, its wings tucked close to its back so it wouldn’t rattle the light fixtures. People all over the restaurant screamed, some scattering, some hiding under their tables.
The dragon chortled. Sanji’s eyes got wide, and he dropped his notepad. “Marimo!” He screeched, flinging his arms around the dragon’s snout. “Oh, I haven’t seen you in years! Where have you been, you big dumb mossball?” He scratched along the dragon’s jaw, grinning as the beast made a rough sound, like a growing laugh.
“Zoro’s a dragon!” The boy in the straw hat said with a loud laugh. “That’s so awesome.”
Oh, right. Sanji let his hands fall back to his sides. “Forgive me, everyone.” He said with a wide smile. “I wasn’t expecting to see an old friend tonight. Marimo, please change back before Zeff comes out to yell at you. And introduce me to your friends.”
Roronoa Zoro dropped back into his seat with a wide, goofy grin on his face. “Yeah. This is Luffy. He’s gonna be king of the pirates. And that’s Nami,” he pointed at the lovely redheaded girl, “and this is Usopp.” The boy with the long nose looked as though he might be having a heart attack, but he waved at Sanji weakly. He turned back to his friends. “This is Sanji. He’s a cook. Used to feed me when I crashed at this place for a bit.”
“Charmed.” Sanji said, giving a shallow bow. “It’s wonderful to meet you all.”
Luffy gasped happily. “Oh! Zoro, you were right! We are gonna find a cook here.” His arm stretched out like a freaky rubber band and latched onto Sanji’s wrist. “You have to come with us, okay? If Zoro likes you, I bet you’re the best!”
Zoro elbowed him in the side. Luffy’s arm shot back to join the rest of his body, but he was still grinning like a fool. “He doesn’t have to do anything.” Zoro said, although he snuck a devastatingly hopeful glance at Sanji as he said it. “But we do need a cook. I think we’re gonna burn down our ship’s kitchen if we don’t find someone soon.”
Sanji shuddered at the idea of a perfectly decent kitchen going up in flames. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of leaving the Baratie, going out to go see the rest of the world, to go find the All Blue. But, leaving the Baratie would mean leaving Zeff, leaving behind everything that the two of them had worked to build together. “I don’t know.” He said slowly. “Zeff, he…he needs me here. I don’t think I can leave.”
“Eggplant!” A deep voice roared. Sanji rolled his eyes; speak of the devil. Zeff came stomping out of the kitchen, his towering hat wobbling with his steps. He stopped in front of the table and let out a long sigh. “I thought I told you we weren’t feeding strays anymore. You’re old enough to work for your meals, Cabbage.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Zoro grumbled. “I get it.” He perked up. “Hey, can we take Sanji with us?”
Sanji opened his mouth to say that he couldn’t, because Zeff needed him, because he owed the old man for everything, for keeping him alive, but Zeff beat him to it. “Sure.” Zeff grunted, waving his arm. “Take him. Don’t look at me like that.” He said gruffly, waving his hand at Sanji. “This place won’t fall apart without you.”
“But…you need me!” Sanji spluttered. “I helped you start this place, you shitty old man! I’m not just going to walk away from it, not after…not after everything you’ve done for me.” He finished quietly, the fire petering out.
Zeff snorted. “Eggplant.” He clapped a heavy hand on Sanji’s shoulder. “I’m too old to be out on that ocean anymore. I belong here. But you…” his hard eyes softened. “You’re young. I want you to get out there and chase that dream I know you have, for both of us. Find the All Blue. And when you do, you take me there to see it.”
A few days later, Sanji was leaning on the railing of his new pirate ship, surrounded by his new pirate crew. Sans Zoro, of course, because the idiot had to get himself nearly cut in half. He’d go to his bedside in a moment, bring a fresh bowl of soup to put on the table in case he woke up hungry, and feed the old one to Luffy. Since Nami was the one on moss-watching duty, he’d also bring her a snack and a drink. But for now, he was watching the ocean and the Baratie, getting smaller in the distance while Luffy laughed and chased Usopp around the deck.
From below the deck, he heard the sound of Nami’s lovely voice raised in reprimanding shouts, and he grinned, pushing himself off the railing. “Marimo’s awake.” He said to himself, heading for the kitchen. “I’m coming, Zoro!” He called. “Nami dear, can I bring you something to eat?”
“I want onigiri!” Zoro’s voice, raspy with disuse, echoed up to him.
“You’re getting soup!” Sanji and Nami yelled back. Sanji laughed to himself as he pushed open the door to the galley, knowing that he’d give Zoro all the onigiri a dragon could eat.