New Life

Title: New Life: Chapter 12
Author: Genuinelie(s)
Rating: PG->PG-14 for less-than-happy content
Warnings: Character death (but most likely not the one you were expecting)
Disclaimer: Not mine. I'm cute. Don't kill me.

A/N...there are eight more chapters after this. So don't worry...too much ^^

******************************
Chapter Twelve
******************************

This time, there was no pouring of rum into the sea.

There was no sodden green haramaki to lay beside them.

There was no comfort to be had in each other's company, because while before they had each lost the same person, now they had lost someone who meant something different to them both.

Luffy had lost the same person he had before.

Sanji had lost someone different.

It wasn't the same as when they had said goodbye, one by one, to their nakama. Each of them had hurt to wave goodbye to, behind the smiles and well-wishes, but Sanji had managed to take comfort in the fact that they were still out there somewhere, living under the same sky. He could ignore losing them because rooted deep was the hope that he could see them again.

It wasn't that way this time.

It wasn't emptiness. He felt full. He felt like he had taken in all the emotion in the world, and it was now pushing out from his being, eating him away from the inside. He felt like he had been turned inside out, his skin raw and his nerves sensitive, everything unprotected. Everything too clear, too sharp, and at the same time it had faded back from him. He didn't feel connected to anything. He felt like he'd been dropped in a bottle, watching the world from inside a cage of glass.

He was just waiting for it to break.

The crew milled around, repairing what damage they could. An island had come into sight shortly after the storm had stilled. It had tossed them a days' worth of travel ahead, it seemed, right into the heart of All Blue.

Sanji tried to care. He tried to feel some sense of satisfaction, of peace. Every time he came close to feeling anything, joy or otherwise, his entire being cringed and danced back from it.

Danced back from the abyss. It waited for him, black and patient.

He and Luffy hadn't moved, holding each other close and still. They both stared numbly out to sea, hardly registering the beautiful aquamarine of All Blue, or the rainbow-colored fish that leapt and twisted in the water. A warm sun beat down on their faces.

All they could feel was cold.

Someone had wrapped a blanket around their shoulders. Sanji didn't know who.

They hadn't turned back. They were so far from the place where the waves had taken Zoro that a search would have been pointless. Besides that, the Going Merry had taken too much damage and no longer could be forced to go anywhere. They were simply drifting at the moment towards the island, in stasis.

The afternoon faded on. At some point Sanji mentioned listlessly, "You lost your hat."

Luffy just dropped his head to Sanji's chest.

*****

The days following the storm were blurry in Sanji's memory at best. They had arrived on Torakara Island a day later after a fishing boat caught sight of them and had the authorities drag them in. Authorities, it turned out, who had no idea a world navy even existed. They couldn't care less whether they were pirates because, they explained cheerfully, most of the populace was. Including the authorities themselves.

The Merry began to undergo repairs, and Sanji enlisted the crew and some of the locals to help him build a floating restaurant. The Straw Hats had been well prepared for this day, having helped Sanji store away his percent of the treasure they found carefully, plus a little more.

It turned out that there had been a restaurant here before, but when people from the outside stopped coming, abruptly it seemed to the islanders, it had fallen into disrepair. The mayor of the town gifted it to Sanji with the hope of drawing tourists in, and even offered to front most of the costs of repairs.

It didn't take long for their navigator to discover that All Blue was cut off from the rest of the Grand Line by a massive storm front. It explained why the ocean was so elusive, why the outsiders stopped coming and why so many different types of fish were found in these waters.

To Sanji's delight, it turned out that the Torakaran cooks were the best he'd ever found, even if he'd never admit it aloud. Seasonings and edible plants he'd never come across, varied and delicious, grew in abundance on the island. Foreign strains of seaweed were plentiful in the shallow waters, and there were fruits that almost made him weep with their taste.

As the crew of the Going Merry prepared their ship, Sanji went from restaurant to restaurant recruiting, until he had assembled a fine staff, all ex-pirates, willing to work under him. Somehow he felt like even Zeff couldn't find fault with them. Not that Sanji would ever let them know, of course.

The Restaurant of Three Swords was opened three months after the Going Merry was dragged into Torakara's harbor. Luffy and his crew stayed for one month after that. According to the locals, the storm broke for just one month twice a year, mysteriously fading away only to return stronger than before. Luffy was getting antsy for the sea. He couldn't wait another year to leave. Even though Sanji burned for Luffy to stay with him, it was time for the Pirate King to return to his ocean.

The night before the Straw Hats' departure, Luffy found Sanji in his room in his new restaurant. It was still tethered to the dock, but far out enough that one had to take a skiff to get there. Sanji was sitting by the one window in his room, feet propped on his desk, absentmindedly smoking a cigarette. It was nearly burned down to the nub, like the twenty others on the desk. The moonlight made the clear waters of All Blue glow iridescently, and if he could force himself to care he would have admitted it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. But really all he saw as he stared blankly out was choppy black water churning beneath torrential rain.

Luffy's hand fell on his shoulder as he entered the room. There was a moment where he stood there silently, companionably, before he set a stack of papers gently on the desk. After a moment Sanji stubbed out his cigarette and sat up to see what they were.

Zoro's face stared back at him. It was a pile of wanted posters, one for each of the original nakama. Luffy, Nami, Chopper, Usopp, Robin.

Zoro.

Sanji's face crumpled. For a moment he couldn't speak. Then, surprising both of them, he threw himself to the floor at Luffy's feet. He touched his head to the newly-finished wood.

"Luffy," he gasped. "I'm sorry. Thank you. I'm sorry."

He was jerked upright by a firm fist in his collar. Luffy glared at him. "Nothing to be sorry for, Sanji. I made you a promise. We all knew this was going to be a dangerous trip. We all almost died more than once. And Zoro chose to do this with us. He chose to help us find All Blue. And wherever he is, I don't think he's sorry." He paused for breath. "I'm not sorry."

"You lost your hat." Sanji stated uselessly.

Luffy shrugged. "Shanks will understand. Friends are more important."

But Sanji could see the glimmer of pain in his eyes.

"I killed Zoro with my stupid dream." He stated finally. It felt like he had just dragged a shard of glass upwards from his stomach to his throat with that statement.

But it was truth, and that, if anything, was what he owed Luffy.

Luffy punched him.

He dropped to the deck, tasting blood on his lip. He stayed bowed, blond hair falling into his eyes, refusing to look up until Luffy grabbed him by his chin and pulled him back to his feet.

"Don't you ever, ever say that." Luffy growled. "And don't think it either. Zoro wanted this. The crew wanted this. Zeff wanted this. I wanted this. We all wanted you to find your dream. To find All Blue." His eyes softened, and for once Sanji could see the wisdom that shone in him, the magic that had prompted them all to abandon their lives and follow him without a second thought. To follow him here."Life isn't worth living without dreams, Sanji. And dreams aren't worth having unless you're willing to risk everything for them."

"Even friends?" Sanji asked quietly.

Without missing a beat, Luffy shook his head, contradicting himself immediately. "But it wasn't our choice. It was his choice, and it was a stupid choice. His sword wasn't worth his life. But he chose."

Sanji stood silently for a moment, watching the emotions as they progressed on his former captain's face. Slowly he reached out and drew Luffy to him. "Thank you," he repeated softly.

Luffy nodded against his chest, tears soaking through his jacket. "I-" he stopped before he started.

But Sanji nodded. "I wish I could come with you, too," he said.

They lay together on the bed, silent but awake, until the morning sun rose over the ocean.

*****

The Going Merry was ready to leave before noon. Sanji had taken a moment aside with each of their crew, thanking them and hugging them and crying tears he'd promised he wouldn't shed.

It felt like it had on the Baratie. Nostalgia made the pain worse, the present tearing open an old wound he'd thought had healed.

Somehow, he managed to smile at them all. He owed them so much, an armful of debts he knew he could never repay.

Idly he wondered if he'd ever see any of them again.

He supposed not.

"We'll tell the world of your restaurant, Sanji." Luffy called down to him, perched as usual on the figurehead. It was unnerving to see his hair blown wild by the breeze, uncovered by his straw hat. "The Restaurant of Three Swords! It will be the best in the world. I know it."

"Of course it will," Sanji called back, an echo of his old attitude tinging his voice. "And you better come back to eat in it. On the house. All of you."

Guri pulled up their anchor. The Merry started to drift away from the port.

Sanji felt a sudden wrench, like he had been speared in the gut all over again. But it passed quickly. He was where he was supposed to be. Zoro had given his life to get him there.

Sanji fingered the long sliver of a scar on his arm. He was living for them both now.

"Don't worry, Sanji!" Luffy had shouted back cheerfully from the deck of his retreating home, "We'll be back. And we'll bring the others! I promise!"

Sanji stayed and watched until the ocean was once again flat and empty.

*****

They had a surprise party for him that night, all of Sanji's newly-assembled staff hiding in the dining room until he snuck in after midnight to find the largest bottle of rum they owned. All of the bastards jumped out at him and nearly gave him a heart attack.

They thwarted him from drinking alone, but at least they didn't stop him from drinking. Sanji let himself be pulled into a seat near the middle of the room, two of the waiters teasing him good-naturedly and shouting "Kanpai!" every other minute until they were all drunker than a land-bound sailor.

An hour or so later he managed to extract himself from the merrymakers, stumbling outside and across the deck to look outwards over the ocean, in the direction the sun would rise in less than two hours. It was also the direction the Merry had sailed off in only a few hours earlier. Still clutching a bottle of rum, he took a large swig and dumped the rest in the ocean, the liquid sparkling in the moonlight as it fell.

So this was it.

His dream.

His life.

Sanji buried his face in his palm, resting his elbow on the railing and tangling his fingers through his messy hair. He ignored the dampness he felt dripping down his arm.

"Don't worry, Sanji!" Luffy had shouted, "We'll be back. And we'll bring the others! I promise!"

Luffy had never broken a promise yet.

But, Sanji figured, there was always room for a person to develop a new bad habit.

He rubbed his face on his sleeve and forced a grin, joining his new companions in the warmth of the dining hall with a loud cheer.

*****

It didn't take Sanji long to rebuild his image as a womanizer, and even less time to get waitresses and female customers alike into his bed.

It took even less time for him to scream Zoro's name out in the heat of sex.

After that embarrassing incident (the woman was kind and said she'd keep it to herself), he took to the more solitary form of pleasure. He didn't stop his flirting, but he left more than a few irritated women to fend for themselves once it got farther than a kiss.

And all the while, he managed to lie so convincingly to himself that he almost believed that he was simply too busy for that sort of thing. That it wasn't a recurring dream of green and black and skin and muscle that kept him from going farther.

*****

It was less than three months before his floating restaurant was world-reknown. He was booked full for another six. Not yet trusting his finely picked crew of chefs, he insisted on preparing most of the main courses himself, but no one really seemed to mind. Instead, the majority of the kids would stand around and watch him, while pretending to do other menial chores, hoping that he wouldn't notice and order them away. He did notice, but he let them watch, figuring it might help them improve the slop they cooked.

Slop which was already the best in the entire Grand Line. But nevermind that.

It was somewhere around five months when he finally got a reply from the Baratie. He was smoking on his bed in his cabin when the waiter tentatively knocked on his door, bearing the weather-beaten envelope. He had sent a note to the old geezer the day after the Merry had left, letting him know he'd found the Grand Line and that letting him follow his dream hadn't been a mistake.

He waved the boy out. He left with a curious stare but didn't say anything. It was common knowledge among the staff that Sanji was Red-Leg's prodigy, and the fact caused no shortage of gossip or interest.

The reply was short. It said simply: "Knew you could do it, string bean."

Enclosed with the note was a will. Without reading it, Sanji flipped back to the note. It was dated more than a year ago.

Which meant Zeff had never gotten his message. He had written it without knowing for sure whether or not Sanji had ever found All Blue.

So his intuition had been right on the day he left the Baratie with Luffy's crew. He really had never seen his old man again.

With faintly shaking hands he opened the will. He was fine with it. He would inherit the Baratie, he could run it - the kids here would do just fine, they didn't really need him - he'd keep Zeff's dream alive -

He dropped the will to the bed.

Patti had inherited the restaurant.

Furthermore, it was expressly specified that Sanji was never, never to work on the Baratie again.

"That - bastard geezer..." Sanji hissed between clenched teeth, head bowed. "Thinks he's so smart. Thinks he -"

Zeff was still looking out for him, even in death. He knew Sanji would drop all that he had worked for in a moment. He knew Sanji still felt the guilt, the debt he owed him.

Sanji had never hated him as he did in that moment, even when they were on the island and he'd been ready to murder the man for his food. He'd died without seeing Sanji's restaurant, without tasting his food. He'd denied him even the release of working off his debt on the Baratie until the day he died. He was left with nothing, no release and nowhere to return home to. He'd never had the chance to thank him, at least not properly. To prove to him once and for all that he was more than just a dreamer.

He supposed in the end he had never had to.

The next day another letter appeared, inviting him to the service. It turned out the old chef had only recently passed, and the old crew was having a memorial for him, even though his body had long since been sent out to sea.

Sanji went and returned and wasn't much changed for the experience of going back home.

The night he came back to All Blue he dumped three crates of rum into the ocean, screaming at his help until they finally left him alone. He had had this experience before. Only this time, there was no Luffy to take comfort with or to share the pain. Sanji was completely alone in his grief.

The next day he was back in the kitchens, and the others chefs soon discovered that any mention of the incident or expression of sympathy would be quickly rewarded with a sharp kick to the head, followed by several other less generous blows.

Another month and life aboard the restaurant fell into a comfortable rhythm. Sanji took to spending long hours alone in his cabin, away from the constant flow of strangers and the demands of his help.

Every so often some excitement was had when a pirate ship attacked or the navy came to claim the bounty on his head or, less frequently, on someone else's, but aside from that the rest of the year passed by in relative ease. Uneventful and calm, like the waters of All Blue itself. The seasons in the strange ocean were so similar that the weather didn't seem to change at all. Sanji almost felt bored.

There was never a shortage of new sea life to experiment with, however, and in that respect Sanji had found some peace. The walls of the kitchen became filled with foreign awards, and soon his bedroom walls were covered with plaques as well.

It was strange, how all the multitudes of compliments never seemed to satisfy him as much as the one ungracious grunt he used to receive for his efforts. It was strange how a mere six could outweigh the praise of the world.

It was strange, he mused, that somedays the yearning for just one good fight, just one more chance to check the strength of his kicks against three impossibly sharp blades, overpowered all the pride and all the satisfaction those awards gave him.

*****

His birthday came and went without a celebration, although he'd been sure to bake six other cakes throughout the year. He'd been keeping more and more to himself, so it could have just been that the other chefs were afraid of saying anything, considering the violent reaction he had to most of their efforts to be companionable with him.

It was the first time he could ever remember spending his birthday alone.

Soon after that the one-year anniversary of the Going Merry's departure came. He had come down with a bad cold (at least, he told himself and everyone else that that was why he felt so shitty)and so spent the overcast day in his cabin, staring at wanted posters he hadn't taken out for twelve months. He lay unmoving on his back, spread-eagled and staring listlessly at the ceiling, following the trail smoke as it spiraled upwards from his mouth.

This was his dream.

*****