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Chapter Text

An exploding cannonball sends the Cooking George listing to one side.

The resulting spray of water reaches all the way up to where Red-leg Zeff stands on the quarter deck. He's already given the order to lift anchor and set sail. All around him, the Cook Pirates work to do just that. One of the benefits of running a pirate crew full of chefs is that they are damn efficient. He eyes the giant snail ships prowling around the nearby island's coastline. The part of his gut hardened and aged with years of being a pirate sensed trouble as soon as those giant eye stalks crested over the horizon. This was not a typical East Blue fleet and the once green and vibrant East Blue island they were visiting is now a dust field of explosions and gunfire. The battlefield consumes everything in sight within seconds of the war starting. Zeff has no desire to find out who the warring parties are. Unfortunately, that does not stop them from becoming targets.

“I was starting to miss the chaos of the Grand Line anyway, lazing around this sea”, Patty the Cook Pirates' first mate yells, where he's leaning over the side of the ship. His giant forearms flex and he easily swings the anchor out and up, securing it, still dripping, to its usual perch.

“I would have preferred crossing back over Reverse Mountain first before getting shot at.” Carne answers from where he and other members of the crew are adjusting the working-end of the halyards to best catch the wind.

Another cannonball comes careening through the air towards his ship and Zeff makes short work of kicking the bastard in an identical arc back towards where it came from. They sail away shortly after that. Zeff keeps standing on the quarter-deck till he's sure the battle can't reach them anymore, then makes his way down to the main deck. As dangerous situations go, escaping an island in the middle of an impromptu war is tamed for an experienced pirate crew from the Grand Line. He points toward the horizon once his boots hit the main deck, “Haul wind and get the Cooking George out to deeper waters!”

The first mate sends him a yes chef and a cocky loose salute. The rest of the crew parroting him. Zeff grunts making his way to the ship's galley. They had gone shopping for supplies earlier in the day. He trusts his crew to make good choices when it comes to buying foodstuffs, but still. He'll go over the new supplies and check the state of the ship's inventory himself. The Cooking George's pride is its crew of first-class chefs and its galley. Said galley sports a kitchen more suited for a semi-high-class restaurant than a pirate ship. The pristine stainless steel counters are a sharp contrast against the warm wooden tones of the walls and the lights rigged up around the room ensure that every working station in the kitchen is well-lit. The crews' chef coats hang near the door, labeled and distinctive from one another. There are tables set to the side of the galley, surrounded by plush booths in a deep blue color. The whole space feels more like an open kitchen restaurant than a galley.

He only makes it three steps inside before his nose picks up the pungent scent of something unwashed and dirty in his kitchen. The small figure dressed in rags startles at the sound of the door opening and Zeff sees that it's a child with a rat's nest of dirty blonde hair tangled on top of their head. The ends of it hanging limply down towards their shoulders. A tangled mess of it covers half the kid's face, but Zeff's sure the kid's a boy.

His voice is harsh when he speaks, “I don't tolerate rats in my galley, kid.”

Instead of scampering away, as Zeff expects, or acting even a little bit wrong-footed at being caught, the boy approaches him. He stops far away from reaching distance though so the kid has some sense at least. The boy's hands tighten into stiff fists at his side and his head almost disappears completely behind the hunch of his shoulders, “Let me cook!”

His voice is surprisingly firm as he makes his demand. Over and over again. The kid's accented voice is high-pitched and childlike, tongue-tripping over the unfamiliar vowels and consonants of the Eastern language. It's clear wherever he's from, it's not anywhere in this sea. And that he's still far too young to be making demands of a captain while standing on his ship. Zeff feels a faint twinge of something sour and unpleasant in his chest. There are only a few reasons why a kid would show up dirty and ragged-looking in an unfamiliar sea. None of them good. It's something you'd expect to see more of on the South Blue than the East Blue.

“Let me cook!” the boy continues to demand. He only quiets down when Zeff begins to speak.

“This is the Cook Pirates' ship,” Zeff states, crossing his arms, “You've got a lot of nerve making demands of its captain. What makes you think its crew is short-staffed on chefs that I'd hire a little snot-nosed eggplant like you?”.

The boy stares at him blankly, his one visible eye clouding over with confusion. Right. The kid's Eastern is practically non-existent then.

“No,” he states plainly this time, shaking his head for emphasis.

Zeff's been captain of the Cook Pirates for almost two decades; he's no stranger to stowaways, and unlike some other pirate crews out there, he has no patience for children on his ship. The boy's blue eye goes from cloudy to wet as his lower lip begins to tremble. This is exactly why Zeff doesn't have any patience for kids—they're too damn emotional. The kid, for his part, doesn't start audibly bawling, instead, grubby hands lift to quietly rub at the tears in his eyes. They already look red and swollen, Zeff notes. This close, he can see the tracks of old tears cutting through the dirt smeared on the kid's cheeks. There are loose butterfly bandages around most of his fingers and the frayed edges of the long-sleeve shirt he's wearing do a poor job of covering the bandages wound around his arms. The shirt itself seems a size too small despite the boy's lithe frame.

He sighs, “Look, we already set sail. I'm not going to order the ship turned around to dump a kid back in the middle of a war zone.”

He continues, even as he sees his words bounce straight off the kid and float uselessly around in the kitchen, “I'll let you sail with us till the next nearest, safe, port and then you're out of my kitchen and off of my ship-” He points a calloused finger at the kid's forehead, “You got enough brains in there to get all that, Eggplant?”.

By the vacant expression, Zeff is going to assume no. The boy gives one long wet sniff and mumbles, “...cook?”.

Zeff sends him a flat expression, tugging at his beard, “No.”

———

The rest of the Cook Pirates accept the presence of the foreign stowaway easily.

Zeff stands at the main cooking station, stirring the beginnings of an easy meal. He's got battered shrimp and squid frying in the pan with some ginger and a dark umami sauce. On the other side of the galley, the rest of his crew are clustered around the booth where the stowaway sits. The kid's as stiff as a marine cadet getting hollered at by a vice admiral, hands clenched in his lap. Patty's looming over the kid's left near the galley wall, forearms crossed, while Carne, by contrast, is crouched down by the kid's side, his large frame creating a buffer between the two.

Zeff sic'd them on the boy as soon as he got the kid seated at the table. The rowdy bunch of Cook Pirates immediately stomped and jostled their way into the galley at the first call. Two crew members left outside to navigate and keep watch. They'd stopped dead at the sight of the kid's wide-eyed stare. The ship doctor's weather-worn face pulled down at the state of the child while the rest of them jumped at the opportunity to inspect the new source of interest on the ship. Carne's making a show of pointing toward everyone and saying their name, hoping it'll prompt the boy into offering up his own. Zeff sets the sea meat aside and cracks in the eggs. Chopped garlic, peas, and leftover crab meat are all tossed in before the eggs can start firming up. He can feel the kid sneak a peek every once in a while, but he doesn't ask to cook again. Or offer up a name.

“C'mon kid, you got to give us something here”, seems like Carne's given up all other avenues and gone straight to begging.

“Maybe the kid's a mute?” Patty grunts, eyebrows pulling down into a scowl.

“Maybe your ugly mug scowling down at him is turning him into a mute,” another crew member pipes up. A round of guffaws passes through the room, and the kid's head whips around, eager to understand what's so funny. Some of the mutism definitely stems from a lack of understanding then.

The Cooking George's shipwright leans back against the booth, twirling a wooden spoon between deft fingers, “I can't believe the boy managed to stowaway onto the ship, we weren't even docked that close to the island.”

Zeff reintroduces the squid and shrimp meat to the mixture, continuing to stir. The rich scent of cooked seafood fills the galley, hanging around the occupants' heads. Another glance at the table shows the look in the boy's visible eye has gone from curiosity tinged with jealousy—to straight hunger. It doesn't take a sharp mind to understand the kid hasn't been fed well in a while. Finally, Zeff adds the leftover rice, freshly chopped peppers, and pours a lightweight seed oil over the mix to brighten up the flavors a bit. The finished plate looks appetizing with vibrant colors of fresh vegetables and sea meat nestled within a golden bed of rice. The hearty weight of it thunks against the wood of the booth's table.

“Eat up kid, we don't waste food at sea.”, Zeff says. From how hungrily the kid was eyeing him near the end there, he thought he'd immediately start shoving the fried rice into his mouth. Instead, the kid takes a minute to spin the plate around and inspect its contents before spearing a single shrimp and chewing on it. Zeff has the bizarre sense that his food is being judged by the little brat. Every element of the food gets the same individual treatment. He half-expects a review by the end of it, but the kid just quietly starts eating the food in neat bites.

Carne offers the kid a wide smile, the same smile mirrored on every cook in the room, “It's damned good right?”.

The boy, of course, doesn't answer, but the bright smile he sends back is pretty telling. Zeff feels something loosen, and worse, soften at the sight of the kid's smile. Luckily, the sound of their navigator pushing into the galley is distraction enough that he can pretend to ignore whatever that was. Robby is the only one in his crew not from the East Blue. When the first inklings of youthful stupidity started urging Zeff to cross Reverse Mountain, he had enough sense in his head to realize the best way of surviving the unpredictability of Grand Line seas was to hunt down a navigator that earned their sea legs sailing it. Robby is also the only member of his crew, not completely fluent in Eastern, which is why when he gives his report on their current heading, he peppers his speech with World Common words.

The boy makes a sharp noise of excitement, eye brightening. He looks like a dog that spotted a particularly good bone,

“I know that language! Can you speak it fluently?!” he exclaims in the same language. Unlike the kid's Eastern, there's no hiccup or awkward stuttering. A thick accent no longer blankets his voice, although there's still a hint of it clinging around the edges of his words, but it is fancy—like his mouth grew and took shape around a silver spoon. World Government fancy, great.

Zeff briefly resigns himself to a future where his bounty is racked up by several thousand berry if the Marines discover the missing World Government-fancy child looking like an ill-kept prisoner in the middle of the Cooking George's galley. He doubts they'd listen if he told them the kid boarded a notorious pirate ship willingly. World Common is the preferred language used on Zeff's ship and the Grand Line. They only defaulted back to using the language of the East Blue after returning to their home seas for a bit. It also means that the entire crew can hear the royal cadence dogging the stowaway's words. The kid's excited exclamation dimmed the wind under the sails in the room and the boy knows it. He shrinks back down into himself looking cowed, fingers tangling and pressing against each other.

“Well fucking finally, we got real close to Carne doing a full mime-act near the end there.” Patty's voice speaks up from where he's still leaning against the wall. It's said with enough force and exasperation to get the sails going again. The Cook Pirates have never really been a serious bunch despite their fierce reputation. The kid's fingers continue to twist and tangle with each other.

“Eat your food, Eggplant.”, Zeff orders, pushing the plate closer to the boy again, “Afterwards, we'll talk about what you're doing aboard my ship.”

———

Afterwards ends up being quite some time later. Zeff's tired of the kid stinking up the galley with his smell. The kid turns beet red and indignant when he says as much. The upset tilt to his features quickly turn more hopeful at the mention of a bath., however. Every time those wide blue eyes light up with wonder at the mention of addressing a basic need such as hunger and hygiene, Zeff's right foot feels restless.

Leading the boy out of the galley becomes a whole thing once the kid spots their Jolly Roger whipping around on the main mast. He mentally redrafts the part in his speech to the Marines about the boy willingly getting on a pirate ship because despite boarding the ship in broad daylight, he's somehow missed the fact that it's a pirate ship.

“You're pirates?!”

The shipwright swings one spoon up pointing towards the tip of the mast, “What gave it away, the Jolly Roger,” another dark-tanned hand points a different spoon towards the front of the ship, “-or the matching figure head?”

The kid pouts a pale hand tugging at the mess on his head. That's going to be hard to detangle.

“What's your name, kid?” Zeff asks in an attempt to distract him.

This gives the boy more of a pause than the realization that he's in the company of pirates. He chews on his lip for a second, hand still tugging at blonde hair. He answers in a voice barely louder than a whisper, “...Sanji.”.

After that, Zeff marches Sanji straight to the bathroom. He looks old enough to bathe on his own without drowning himself, so he leaves the kid to it. Zeff settles against the railing right outside the door. The island isn't visible on the horizon anymore and the sounds of battle have long since faded away into the distance. Sailing the East Blue means they don't have to hop from island to island. Instead, they're on course straight to the nearest decent port town. Robby's report stated it will be about a week before the Cook Pirates can wash their hands of the little stowaway.

Zeff smooths a hand over the hair in his beard. The boy's situation is strange, there's no doubt about it. He's not sure how the kid ended up on an island he doesn't belong on. There's nothing particularly noteworthy about that East Blue Island, either. No slave trades that he knows of, and it's not one usually frequented by pirates despite being an independent island outside of the World Government's jurisdiction. As far as he's aware, the snail-ship fleet doesn't sail the Grand Line, and the news coos have yet to mention them. The only thing he's certain of is that they carry serious firepower and a military-trained crew. Zeff wouldn't be surprised if there was nothing left of the island by the end of the day.

The sun has noticeably shifted further down the sky by the time the bathroom door clicks open again. Zeff stows away any further thoughts on the matter. Where the kid came from and how he got here has nothing to do with him. The only obligation the Cook Pirates have is to keep the kid well-fed till they can drop him off somewhere.

Two days later Zeff's stretched out on one of the benches on the main deck. The sun warming the back of his neck while the breeze chases away the worst of the heat.

“I think he's imprinted on you like a baby duck.”, Carne speaks up on the bench across from him. There's a small wooden table separating the two, playing cards and berry coins scattered across its surface, “I'd bet good berry, you're the first friendly face the kid's seen in a while. As ugly as it is.”

“That's what happens when you feed strays, Captain,” Fasti states not kindly. The green and white bandana does nothing to hide the displeased tilt of his eyes. Fasti is one of the Cook Pirates' main combatants, with a similar fighting style to Zeff's own. He's leaned up against a barrel near them, now. Lurking, Zeff's mind supplies.

Patty turns toward where Carne sits next to the first mate, continuing to shuffle the cards in his hands, as he asks, “Ducks do what now?”

“Baby ducks imprint. Means they form an attachment to the first moving person or object they see after they hatch.”

“Huh.”

Zeff ignores the conversation going on in front of him to send Fasti a stern glare, “You know the rules of the Cook Pirates. No one on the ship goes hungry and we don't steal food from our victims.”, he shifts, accepting the hand of cards Patty deals to him, “The Cooking George doesn't have room for a growing Eggplant, we'll drop him off at the nearest port.”

“Right...” Patty says, his own set of cards nearly lost behind the meaty fist of his hand, “Does the brat know that?”.

Said brat sits close to Zeff's side on the bench, looking down at his swinging feet. He didn't put up a fuss when the adults around him started talking in the language of the East Blue. It's the only way Zeff's gotten some modicum of privacy the last few days. Sanji's been stuck to his side ever since that first meeting in the galley, even sleeps curled up in a nest of blankets on the floor of the Captain's cabin. Yelling or kicking only grants him a little bit of extra space, but it's usually not long until wide, wet eyes slink back up to his side, looking skittish and miserable. They're sitting outside now for the kid's benefit. Sanji's got his back to the table, enjoying the full force of the sun against his face. His cheeks, still round with baby fat, already have a slight pink tint to them, and Zeff knows he'll have to chase the kid into the shade at some point, but for now, he leaves him be. Whatever situation Sanji was in before landing himself on the Cooking George, didn't grant the kid a lot of time outside. After his bath that first day, he bundled Sanji up in borrowed clothes tied around his frame to make it fit a bit better and sent him off to the ship's doctor.

Now days later, the kid's wrapped up in another set of new, borrowed clothes, and Zeff's got the ship doctor's grim report bouncing around his head at night. They'd somehow managed to detangle the rat's nest on the boy's head with minimal help from a pair of scissors and it now curls ever-so-slightly around his shoulders and ears. Half his face is still hidden behind a long fringe, which he seems to prefer. The little bit of skin that isn't blue-yellow from bruising is a sickly pale color, barely distinguishable from the fresh bandages covering the worst of the wounds—indicating a lack of time spent outside and the reason Zeff's currently baking like a piece of dried meat out on the main deck. There's also a painful-looking rash on both sides of the kid's jaw, spreading down towards his neck like something kept rubbing against the skin there.

Any attempts at trying to get Sanji to talk about his past end in disaster. As far as the boy and thus the Cook Pirates are concerned, he spawned semi-fully formed on the Cooking George. Sanji shuffles around on the bench till he can shamelessly stare at Zeff's hand of cards. Patty and Carne watch the boy's face like a pair of hawks. Sanji's mouth turns down into a grimace, and Zeff huffs a breath through his nose. Another thing he's been unable to do the last few days—win at a round of cards.

———

A week after meeting the stowaway, he's digging the tip of his boot into the kid's ribs, sending him crashing down the gangplank. It hurts. It's meant to hurt. Zeff is a Grand Line pirate and captain of the Cook Pirates. He's earned a bloody reputation with a fighting style so distinguishable they've tacked it onto his first name. He's not a soft man and he's not fit to raise a kid. Sanji lands with a thump on the port's dock down below. The port town they're docked at is a decently sized one with little-to-no criminal presence. The boy will be just fine here and Red-leg Zeff and his crew can continue on their journey to re-enter the Grand Line without the liability of a child on board. If only he'd actually stay down on the docks long enough for the Cook Pirates to set sail again. Zeff sighs as the boy clamors back up onto bony knees.

“I want to be a cook, I want to sail with you!” the boy manages to yell, despite the noticeable wheeze in his voice.

I want to retire and open a restaurant one day when I'm too old to sail, Zeff thinks. But there's only one way for a pirate to retire, and it's not something as simple as hanging up the jolly roger and calling it a day. He bends down, dragging the gangplank back up the main deck. Sanji's still hacking up a storm down on the dock, hunched over his knees. The yelling clearly stole the last bit of breath his lungs managed to cling onto. At least he's staying down. Third time really is the charm with this kid. Gangplank secured back in place, Zeff gives the order to set sail. He can't bring himself to move away from the railing, though. Instead, he stands there watching as the boy teeters up onto two unsteady land legs and finally manages to draw in a deep breath. Of course, the kid merely lets it loose in a scream a second later.

“I'm going to make it to the Grand Line, and I'm going to find the All Blue!”

It's the loudest Zeff's ever heard the boy be. Sanji spent most of the week on the ship, skittering around, quiet and meek as a mouse. There were times when Zeff thought he could see the spark of something hotter in the boy's eye wanting to catch light. But it was usually snuffed out under the weight of whatever it is that also robs the boy of a peaceful night's sleep. The glow of it sparks out from the kid's mouth now making Zeff's breath hitch. A heat buried deep down in his chest—deep into his bones, at the cluster of nerves that make up the human body—starts to heat up and arch towards the dock as the kid fuels it with the glowing sparks of an impossible dream. Zeff's dream. A dream he's long since stopped fueling himself. A determined deep-blue eye meets his own watered-grey ones, and Zeff offers a branch for the kid's sparks to latch onto, “Alright, little Eggplant. We'll anchor close by at sea for the night. If you can make it back on my ship by morning light for the second time, I'll take you to the fucking Grand Line myself.”

The boy's mouth pulls up in a cocky show of teeth.

———

Fourteen-year-old Sanji is a pirate and sometimes he's also a cook. Mostly he's been a thorn in the Cook Pirates' side for the last six years now. The temper the kid's been hoarding away has been given space to grow aboard the Cooking George. His tongue's grown sharp along with his temper—the formal speech he once spoke with quickly giving way under the force of a pirate's vernacular within the first year of sailing.

Zeff still managed to instill the manners of a gentleman into him and respect for women, so he's not doing too bad a job at raising the kid. Sanji's a natural protege when it comes to cooking, something he has no shame in baiting the other Cook Pirates into a fight with. Patty grumbles the loudest and butts heads with the kid the most, but they're all secretly proud of the brat. Another thing Sanji's taken to is their captain's unique fighting style. Fighting doesn't come as naturally to him as cooking did, yet it doesn't stop him from adopting the Blackleg fighting style as his own. Sanji is fourteen years old and happy for once in his life when it all gets ripped away from him in an afternoon.

The snap of the Cooking George's main mast is deafening. The once sturdy pillar splinters and tilts, falling to the ocean below. The Cook Pirates' Jolly Roger goes down with it. The ocean is quick to swallow it into its depths along with the other bits of debris falling off the burning Cook Pirates ship.

Sanji does nothing to stop the tears from falling down his face. The only people he's ever been willing to call family are bleeding out and burning alive in the ruins of their home. The thick scent of it clogs up his nose and burns the back of his throat. He can feel the Vice Admiral's hand where it digs into the meat of his shoulder, discouraging him from moving where he's kneeled. Not that he needs to. Sanji can't move, too caught up in the sight happening port side of the Marine ship he's held on. The sound of the Vice Admiral's voice is faint behind the loud rush of blood and flames in his ears, but he hears the words Vinsmoke and experiment. A grim feeling of helplessness he hasn't felt in years shivers down his spine to settle into his bones. If he breathes in hard enough, he can smell the scent-memory of iron clamped over his head and the feeling of cold concrete beneath him. He should have listened to Zeff and let the Cook Pirates abandon him on that dock in the East Blue. At least they wouldn't be dead and it wouldn't be his fault.

Chapter Text

“Luffy, you have to promise to look for a cook this time, not only a shipwright!”

Luffy mumbles what is either an I know, I know or Nami worries too much around a mouth full of Water-Water meat. The Yagara under him takes turns swiveling its head between the canal in front of them and the rapidly disappearing food in his hand. Nami sighs, knocking her shins against the three suitcases stuffed full of berry. She knows Luffy's stubbornness isn't born out of any ill will, at least not when it comes to the issue of finding a cook he approves of. He just has a whole thing when it comes to picking members for his crew and so far he's done a surprisingly good job at sniffing out exactly the type of person the Straw Hats need. He's plenty stubborn about everything else though, like punching Warlords and wanting to ride the Going Merry's figurehead during a storm.

She shares an anxious look with Usopp next to her in their own Yagara. The food situation on the Going Merry is not great. She tries her best and after Robin joins it becomes slightly easier to keep track of their inventory, but despite their best efforts they can't seem to keep the food from spoiling or running out before they're able to reach another island to restock. Continuing to sail without a proper cook to maintain their food stores and keep up with their rubber idiot's monstrous appetite is not something they can afford to do much longer. Their captain gets weaker the longer they spend traveling at sea. It shows in the way he begins to take longer and longer naps on the ship's figurehead, and the increasing frequency with which he turns down Usopp and Chopper's offers to play. Chopper says it's a nutrition thing made worse by his devil-fruit powers—that his metabolism burns faster than others. Which means Luffy starves at a faster rate. Nami had basically thrown the berry for the Water-Water meat in the rubber idiot's face just so that she didn't have to see the way the skin around his eyes and cheeks started to look sunken in again.

The area around her darkens and she looks up to see the sign for the ship-building factory looming ahead of them. A giant number one is plastered on the side of a building nearby and Nami makes the conscious decision to pick her battles one at a time. Their main priority right now is getting the Going Merry repaired and charming a shipwright into throwing away their cushy job to become a pirate. Easy.

The shopkeeper they rented the Yagaras from never told them what to do if they wanted to park so they left the two water creatures free floating nearby and away from the main traffic area. Usopp gives them a strict command to stay before they head towards the gates. There's a man crouched near the entrance dressed in jean coveralls with a high, stiff, collar. She can see the edges of a red cravat tucked close under his chin and collar. Combined with the mask hiding his face and the way the sun glints off the lighter he spins around in his hand he gives Nami the impression of a delinquent.

“Welcome to our shitty factory full of shitty shipwrights.” he greets, voice flat.

“Do you work here?” she asks.

Usopp comes to a stop next to her, a worried hand listing side-to-side in the air, “More importantly, is it okay for you to say something like that if you do?”

The mask turns more fully towards them. It's the same style as the ones they saw the vendors peddling earlier while floating down the shopping district. It's rounded at the top and morphs to smooth around the curves of his skin to cover the entirety of his face. There are two stylized holes covered in mesh for him to see from, but she can't see any designed for him to breathe out of. The mask is plain white and frankly, a little stifling looking. The red cravat puffs out from where it's tucked into the jean coveralls to wrap around his neck.

“If I knew someone this beautiful was within earshot, I would have chosen less vulgar words.”, the man admits. By the way, the mask's angled, she thinks he's meant to be looking at her. If he's trying to flirt, he's doing a poor job of it. His voice barely rose out of the flat tone he greeted them with.

Usopp's elbow digs into her side before she can do more than roll her eyes. He points a finger innocently up at his face, “He's talking about me right?”

She snorts, ugly, at the hiss of disgust escaping from behind the mask. Luffy ignores the interaction completely to clamber over the fence to the shipyard instead. He barely makes it a step before he's stopped by a man Nami is at least sure works here. They leave the masked man to his brooding and trail after the new person currently herding their idiot captain away from the fence. The Dock-1 worker, Kaku has a long nose similar to Usopp's, but square. He reads over their letter from Ms. Kokoro and informs them that the man they're looking for is the mayor of Water 7. He's not going to tell them where Iceberg is, but he agrees to take a look at their ship.

Someone calls his name before he can leave though and they all turn to see another Dock-1 worker approach. He's huge and shirtless with tattoos splayed across his chest and upper arms, “Kaku, If you're going to run off to do an inspection, take Sanji with you.”

“Alright! It'll be fun racing him down to where the ship is,” he agrees turning to the delinquent still crouched near the entrance. There's a clear challenge in his eye.

So he does work here, Nami thinks. The masked man, Sanji, unfolds from where he's crouched to trail after Kaku. Her heart drops to her stomach watching the two shipwrights launch themselves off a cliff towards the direction of the sea. A beat later a white cap crests over the edge of the cliff, much farther away than it was a second ago.

Luffy whoops, stars bursting in his eyes, “When did Usopp get so cool?!”

The sound of their actual long-nose's hand smacking the back of his head is loud, “I'm literally right here!”

Don't worry about them.” A smooth voice calls. Nami forgets how easy it is to run into new people when you're not stuck on a ship, or visiting a tiny island with a population count the size of the Straw Hats' wallets combined. The three suitcases filled with hundreds of millions of berries resting at their feet are not included in that count, of course. The new person is a tall man in a well-fitted suit instead of workers' clothes. His dark-painted lips are pulled up into an easy smile.

“Kaku's one of our best carpentry foreman here at Galley-La. Residents of the city are used to seeing him run around freely. They even gave him the nickname Mountain Wind,” he says. If the Not-Usopp long-nose is to be believed, he must be the mayor. Nami can see a stern-looking blonde woman hovering nearby over his shoulder. Iceberg points to the large tattooed man who showed up earlier, “Lulu and Kaku have been working for my company for many years now. You can trust him to do a thorough and honest assessment of your ship.”

“And the mask guy?” Usopp asks. The mayor doesn't wince but it's a close thing.

“More of an apprentice, he came to Water 7 a few months ago.”

Lulu, on the other hand, does nothing to hide his exasperation, “An apprentice that doesn't use his hands is never going to reach his full potential. You're too soft on him boss.”

An odd spike of hair, much longer than the rest, sticks out the side of his head. He pushes it while he talks. The Straw Hats' heads tilt with the spike as they watch the hair slowly disappear on one side only to grow out the other side of his head.

“Usopp-hair.” their captain stage whispers.

“Oi.”

———

Kaku looks smug where he's already standing aboard the Going Merry. Sanji lands close by, the fingers of his right hand folded into a rude gesture. Kaku, the fake cheery bastard, just turns away with a wave to go do their real jobs as fake shipwrights. Sanji's gotten better at controlling the jumping agility, Geppo, but the other man is still marginally better at it. He pulls out a cigarette while strolling around the perimeter of the ship.

It must have been a beautiful piece of craftsmanship at some point. The Straw Hats' ship is a medium-sized caravel in woody brown tones similar to other ships. White painted decals carved to look like sheep's wool wrap around the top of the ship's railing. They match the figurehead on the front of the ship. A sheepshead with curling horns. There is a care and attention to detail worked into the wood of the ship that is sadly lost under the sheets of steel pockmarking her exterior. The sheets seem to be a desperate attempt at keeping the ship from drifting apart where she floats. He has never seen the shipwrights at Dock-1 use steel sheets to repair a wooden ship before and that might have been for a reason.

There is also moss growing on her quarter-deck he notes with interest. Sanji nudges at the boots in his way. The leather is a dark green, almost black color, and well worn. One grey eye peeks up at him and Sanji wiggles the still unlit cigarette in his direction. His lighter is broken.

“I don't have a light.” the man grunts, eye already sliding shut again. The three swords cradled in his shoulder knock against each other as he adjusts to a more comfortable position. Sanji's offended at being dismissed, but before he can do anything the man's eyes crack open again and he half-growls, “If you hurt the long-nose, I'll separate that ugly mask from your neck along with your head.”

Sanji tilts his head, “Who, Kaku?”

“No, Usopp.”

They stare at each other for a beat.

Sanji says That's Kaku at the same time the swordsman throws himself down the stairs yelling, “That wasn't Usopp!”

By the time Sanji reaches the railing looking down on the main deck, the green-haired man has the tip of two swords pointed at the not-a-shipwright's neck.

“Sorry did we wake you?”, Kaku asks, eyeing the swords warily like he thinks they are a threat, “We're shipwrights from Galley-La. You're captain sent us over to assess your ship.”

Out of all the CP-9 agents currently stationed at Water 7, Sanji hates Kaku the second least due to his more adept ability at faking human emotions and reactions. Kalifa gets the honor of being the least hated due to her being a woman, although the margins by which they outrank each other on that list are very small.

“Names?” The green-haired man demands.

Sanji stares down his nose at the main deck, “What are you going to do? Pull a list of names out of your ass of every employed worker at Galley-La and compare names?”

Kaku's eyes flicker to him, scolding, “Sanji.”

Sanji's mouth clamps shut in a thin line and he doesn't speak again. He drums an anxious beat on his cigarette wishing he could light it. Kaku takes his fake job as seriously as he does his real one, which means he believes in treating every customer with polite respect. His pleasant smile is back on his face and he turns back to the man to say, “-and I'm Kaku. Don't mind Sanji, he's crabby when he hasn't had a cigarette in a while.”

The swordsman shrugs, putting his weapons away, “Zoro.”

“Great! Since that's out of the way, I'm going to get back to doing our job.” with that he disappears down into the ship's hold. Zoro turns to where Sanji still stands up by the railing of the quarter-deck. He wiggles the unlit cigarette in his hand at him again.

“I still don't have a light.” Zoro drawls moving to climb back up the steps. He growls at the leg Sanji swings up to cut him off.

“There has to be something on this ship capable of producing an open flame.”

Minutes later the burner in the galley clicks on. Sanji is careful to keep his hair away from the fire while he bends to light the cigarette. Without the mask to hold them back they fall like a curtain around his head, the ends curling towards his face. The cigarette tip glows a bright orange and he straightens flicking the burner off. Zoro stands near the galley door, staring out. The other man had been surprisingly complacent when Sanji mimed at him to turn away so he could remove his mask to smoke. He only mocked a little as he headed to the door.

“That ugly, huh?”

“A face only a mother could love.” Sanji had quipped back.

With the swordsman distracted staring outside, Sanji takes the opportunity to snoop through the galley. The space functions as a kitchen, dining, and living space all in one. There is a small raised platform that's cornered off, with a hand-drawn sign stating Usopp's factory nearby. His sensitive nose picks up the scent of gunpowder and something earthy emanating from there, so he decides to stay clear. The fridge sits in one corner of the room, and the cupboards, stove, and sink are all clear across the other side of the room. In a space like this, it's poor design for a fridge to be that far away from a cook's workstation. He eyes the drawings proudly displayed on its doors. They are all childish with large cartoon-y characters in impossible scenarios drawn in bright colors. The shapes on half of them are precisely symmetric and there's no wobble in the colorful lines. The other half has the typical childish scrawl and squiggly lines you would expect from a drawing like this.

The Cooking George's fridge only had one picture on its surface. One of the Cook Pirates had thrust a box of colorful markers and some paper at him after one of their stops, back in the early days. Unfortunately, his life in Germa didn't leave much time for activities like drawing for fun so he'd been confused by what was expected of him to do. He worked himself up into an anxious mess trying to figure it out until Zeff growled at him to just draw a damn picture of the ship. He spent days working on it. Every line measured and drawn as neatly and accurately as an eight-year-old's hand can make it. The older man didn't know what to do with a drawing closer resembling an amateurish, badly drawn blueprint rather than a child's artwork so stuck it to the fridge. Needless to say, art was not something he indulged in very often growing up.

The memories make something sharp and painful claw through his chest and he turns away from the drawings before they can rake through his skin. The first two cupboards he opens only produce dust mites and the odd misplaced dishware. By the time he opens the fourth and last empty cupboard, he's anxiously smoked through his cigarette. He says a quick prayer to no one in particular before opening the tiny fridge in the galley. Empty.

“I hide the booze in the anchor rope storage”

Sanji whips around to the swordsman still standing by the door. He hasn't moved, body still facing out. However, his head is angled towards the galley to allow his voice to carry into the room. He won't be able to see him from there but Sanji still stubs the cigarette butt out in the sink and reties the strings of his mask. The skin on his face itches. He moves over to the door with a groan, “Please tell me you did not run out of food while at sea.”

Zoro doesn't look at him until he knocks his knuckles into his shoulder. The swordsman turns eyebrow raised, “You said not to tell you.”

Oh. The swordsman thinks he's funny.

“What kind of ship's cook lets the food run out while at sea?”

Sanji's not sure why he feels a distant flash of irritation for someone he's never even met. What the Straw Hats do and how they run their ship, has nothing to do with him. The only obligation Sanji has, as a fake shipwright, is to assess whether the ship is fixable or not.

“Happens,” Zoro shrugs, “And we don't have a cook.”

Sanji struggles to keep his tone flat, “You entered the Grand Line without a full crew?”

“Nami always gets us to an island eventually. We just have to keep an eye on Luffy.”

The apathy layered like a thick gel under his skin begins to shiver as something old and frustrated starts to simmer underneath it. What kind of pirates can't even sail without running out of food regularly? He says as much. Judging from the pinched look on the other man's face, he added a bit more bite to his words than he intended.

“We entered the Grand Line because we all have a dream we're working towards. Sure, the foodstuff's not great but we'll figure it out.” Zoro says the last part with an easy confidence. Like he believes in what he's saying. The mention of dreams does nothing to settle the simmer under his skin.

“I'll be sure to carve your dreams on your headstones,” he says icily.

“Watch it, shitty-mask. You can't be that cynical, already.”

“Oh, big word for a Mosshead,” Sanji scoffs, “Did you have to sound it out in your head first?”

The other man's laughter is startling.

Oh. The swordsman thinks he's funny.

Unsettled, Sanji sticks his hand into a pocket to fiddle with his carton of cigarettes. Zoro has moved to lean against the doorway, a casual slouch to his shoulders. The relaxed position does nothing to diminish the size of them. Instead, the rounded muscle slopes down to roll seamlessly to his crossed arms and emphasize the shape of his biceps. Sanji's fingernail scrapes harshly against the carton.

Zoro tilts his head scrutinizing him despite the mask, “Sailed, before?”

“No,” the lie rolls unhindered off his tongue, “We only build them or repair them.”

“So, you're from the Grand Line?”

Sanji's not so quick with his answer this time. He serves the question back towards the other man, hoping to distract him, “What Blue did you guys come from?”

“East Blue.”

“There are cooks in the East Blue.”

Zoro lifts one broad shoulder in a shrug, “None that Luffy wanted.”

Sanji wants to ask what that means. What criteria does a captain have for choosing a cook other than, can cook and can keep an organized pantry. Maybe even a won't kill the crew in their sleep if he's picky. He wants to ask them what dreams could possibly be important enough that led them to recklessly dive into Grand Line waters with a half-formed rookie crew. He doesn't get the chance though. Just then, a long, square nose pokes into the galley and Kaku announces the finished assessment. It isn't good news.

They don't travel far before Kaku drops down on top of one of the flatter Water-7 rooftops. The Going Merry is a speck bobbing up and down with the tide when Sanji comes to a stop next to him. The fountain tip of Water-7 glints in the distance.

“Well, Nico Robin is not on the ship,” Kaku says. The cheery tone still lilts through his voice, but he loses the pleasant smile now that they are alone. The hollow cheeriness is unsettling.

“She's been there recently though,” Sanji states. He holds up his hand revealing the pink flower petals Robin's devil-fruit powers are known for. They are still soft and fresh with a strong floral scent. The Going Merry's galley had been covered in them like she spends a lot of time in there.

With the crew, Sanji thinks. He wonders if she has any objections about the factory in the corner or if she's a willing participant in the creation of that ticking time bomb. What little intelligence they managed to dig up on her paints the picture of a cold-hearted, methodical woman who easily betrays others if it benefits her. He can't imagine her sitting in the warm galley, surrounded by childish drawings, laughing at the company around her. Company that she's allowed to be a part of.

“Aokiji told us she was traveling with them.” Kaku's hands are planted on his hip and he stretches from side to side at an exaggerated angle, “We just needed to confirm she didn't spook and take off after their little run-in.”

They both look down at the sound of ringing. Kaku straightens, pulling the baby Den Den Mushi out of his pocket, “Good afternoon, Kaku speaking.”

They listen to Blueno's voice filter out from the Den Den Mushi. He informs them he found Nico Robin and is bringing her to the meeting point. Zoro's face flits through Sanji's mind and he remembers the threat he growled out on the quarter-deck. He wonders if Nico Robin will be awarded the same protectiveness.

———

Twenty minutes after they left, Sanji and Kaku land back in front of the entrance to Dock-1. The crowd around the area has grown, although the Straw Hats' long-nose is noticeably missing. Lucci and Hattori sit nearby on some lumber. There's a tightness to Sanji's chest that doesn't stem from their excursion around Water-7.

The news about the Going Merry does not go over well. The Straw Hat captain swings back and forth between denial to bargaining and back again like a loud, angry, pendulum. Iceberg remains steadfast in the force of the Straw Hats' conviction and their insistence on repairing the old caravel. It grates on the pride of the shipwrights. Yet, they continue to guide the young pirates through the situation calmly. Iceberg is close to getting the Straw Hats to understand the severity of the Going Merry's condition when they are interrupted by Lulu. He informs them that World Government Officers are on their way to meet with the mayor.

“Guys, hide!” Paulie whisper-yells at the pirates still standing dumbly out in the open. They scramble to grab the suitcases and throw themselves behind a nearby pile of lumber. Sanji hunkers down with them. They make a jagged sort of triangle huddling together.

Sanji taps out another cigarette, spinning it between his fingers as he asks, “The Going Merry means a lot to you, huh?”

“She's a member of our crew and a gift from a special friend back in the East Blue.” Luffy, answers. His mouth sits in an exaggerated frown and sweat trickles down his face from his shouting match with Iceberg. He looks young and upset. Sanji can't help the way his face softens at the sight. They won't be able to see it so he softens his voice as well.

“Plenty of pirates sail more than one ship in their lifetime.” he tries to placate, but it only manages to upset the young boy even more.

His shout is an echo of the earlier argument, “Not us! The Straw Hats' ship is the Going Merry!”

Next to them, Nami sighs, “Luffy...”

She looks like she's gearing up to say more, but the captain surprises them both by speaking first, “I know.”

He's still visibly upset, but there's a seriousness to the dark eyes turning towards the redhead. In comparison to the earlier shouting, his voice is whisper-soft now, “I want to be a good Captain which means being a good Captain to Merry too.”

The brim of the straw hat hides the majority of his face as he ducks his head to say, “But that means being a bad captain to Usopp.”

“Usopp will understand as long as we explain it to him. Together as a crew.”

“Being a captain means making hard decisions for the better sake of the crew. Even if those decisions upset them.”, Sanji isn't looking at them as he says it. He's on a hard wooden dock in the East Blue staring up at a captain who won't do just that and he can't get enough air into his lungs. There is the scent of smoke in his nose and he's suddenly glad he couldn't light the cigarette. It only trembles a little as he shoves it back into his pocket.

“Also, get a ship with a bigger fridge and a dry pantry to store non-perishables.” he gripes.

He's too distracted by the shakiness in his limbs and mind to notice the too-innocent way Nami asks, “Oh, Mr. Shipwright, do you know something about cooking on a ship?”

He shrugs, nodding his head a little. It's the wrong move to make. Both Straw Hats eye him like a prized pie at a bake-off. Luffy's the first to lunge, knocking over a suitcase in the process, “You're a cook?! Join my crew!”

Nami picks up the suitcase and pauses to stare down at it. Her scream screeches through the shipyard drowning out Sanji's refusal. All three of them startle out of their huddle. He notices Hattori fluttering back towards Lucci's shoulder from where the bird was perched on top of the lumber pile moments earlier. Said man comes over with Paulie to see what the noise is all about. It ends up being a classic con job. Someone switched two of the Straw Hats' suitcases out for empty ones. Everyone stares accusatorily at Paulie before Lulu mentions seeing members of the Franky Family nearby.

“If the Frankie Family is involved, your friend might be in serious trouble,” Paulie says. There's an embarrassed flush to his cheeks from being accused, but his voice is stern as he shoos Hattori, “Put your feathers to use and see if you can't spot him anywhere.”

One of the very few good things about being assigned to Water-7 is watching Paulie bully and needle the strongest CP-9 member into doing what he wants. Sanji's busy watching the pigeon circle the sky when a pair of impossibly long arms shoot past his shoulder to grip the tip of one of Water-7's many towers.

Luffy's voice is in the process of saying gum-gum when it's interrupted by the sound of a fist meeting flesh. He turns to see the Straw Hat captain sprawled out in the dirt, an impressively sized knot growing on the side of his head. Nami's got an arm raised ready to hit him again.

“You idiot, what would you see that a bird can't!”

His only answer is a whiny “But Nami!” puffed out into the dirt.

Sanji picks the younger boy up off the ground, keeping a restraining hand on his shoulder. The beautiful smile Nami sends his way in thanks makes heat crawl up his neck. He frowns. He feels wrong. There's a thing he doesn't like squirming deep under his skin and wrapping around his bones. He doesn't know what it is yet but it feels warm. Since landing on the Straw Hats ship, he can't seem to resist being drawn into their company. They make it easy too. Zoro hardly put up a fight at his snooping around their space, and Nami and Luffy didn't even question his place in the huddle.

He drops his hand retreating into himself to go stand closer to Lucci. The wiggling, squirming thing is barely room temperature but he's afraid the more time he spends with them the hotter it will get. Hattori swoops back down to land on Lucci's shoulder. The bird points a wing somewhere over Lucci's left, “There's a lump with a long nose behind those warehouses there.”

Luffy is the first to reach the injured Straw Hat, Sanji and Kaku are a close second. The teenager looks awful, his nose is crooked and bleeding and there are bruises over most of his skin. Sanji's worried about the proximity of the broken shards from his goggles to his open wounds. Nami reaches them and immediately drops down to cradle the injured teen in her lap. Blood seeps into the dark fabric of her shirt. Behind them, Lulu leaves to fetch a doctor.

Usopp is slow to respond and it takes a minute for Nami to coach him into opening his eyes. His breath hitches when he finally spots his crew.

“Was it those Franky Family guys?”, Luffy asks, voice oddly calm. The creak of rubber from his hands fisting at his sides betray his anger.

“They took the money,” Usopp hiccups around a mouthful of blood. It looks like a tooth got knocked out. His voice is a broken mess of hiccups and sobs, “But, Luffy it's my fault. I'm sorry I'm so weak.”

“Don't worry about the money,” Nami reassures. She smooths a hand over his crooked bandanna, “We've got Zoro and Luffy, remember? They're monsters. We'll definitely get it back”

She says the words with a steady determination but they don't bring much comfort to the injured teen. None of the Strawhats moved to deny his claims Sanji notes. He watches Usopp's dark skin tighten over his knuckles. They're cracked and bleeding.

“I want to go with you.” Usopp directs this over her shoulder towards their captain. Luffy stares at him from under the brim of his Straw Hat.

“No.”

The answer visibly surprises the other two. Usopp's arms tremble and he pushes against the ground to leverage himself into a more upright position to protest, “Luffy-!”

“Chopper will be mad if you go with us.”

“So?” he tries to laugh, but his chest stutters and stops before he can get more than two breaths out, “You guys make Chopper mad all the time doing the same thing!”

Sanji thinks he's starting to understand what might be going through the long-nose's head. Luffy's assurances that they'll handle it and that Usopp should just stay here and get better only worsen the storm brewing in the teen's head.

“If you're determined to go after the Franky Family, take Sanji with you.” Paulie interrupts. Sanji's not the only one who turns to stare at him with surprise. He's lighting another cigar as he explains, “He knows where the Franky House is, he can take you to it. Plus he might be a shit shipwright, but he's a good fighter.”

Sanji thinks, bitterly, that this has less to do with the Straw Hats needing an extra fighter and more to do about Sanji himself. Hattori might not have been the only one eavesdropping on the conversation by the lumber pile. Paulie's the only one at Dock 1 aside from the undercover CP-9 agents who know his age.

In the past, the older shipwright approached Sanji to gripe at him about spending time with kids his own age. He doesn't think it's proper for Sanji to be brooding around the Dock-1 workers at the bar during the hours they aren't working. It never fails to make what's left of his temper flare up hot and angry. He has a job to do here and it's not learning how to be a good shipwright or what's considered proper socialization skills for someone his age. Not when his hands are stained with more than just the blood of his targets since joining CP-9 three years ago. Warmed metal brushes up against the skin around his neck, grounding him. He can feel himself fall back into the flat indifference he's taken to wearing like a second skin over the last few years.

“That's not part of my job description,” Sanji asserts. Alarmingly, a rubber arm starts to wrap around his waist.

“Alright!” Luffy cheers, “It's decided then. Me, Zoro, and Sanji are going to go beat them up!”

Before he can so much as squawk in protest, they're shooting up into the sky. His stomach does several nauseating flips and the only sound he can hear past the rush of air in his ears is cackling laughter and snapping rubber. An unhappy glower from a young face stalks the back of their heads as they leave to go collect the swordsman.

———

Zoro is murderous when they inform him of the situation. They run into the little doctor on the ship too. Sanji stares down at the panicking raccoon dog calling for a doctor using human words. Like a human. The Grand Line is weird, but he didn't know it could be that weird.

“Chopper.” Zoro's voice stops the little doctor in his tracks. The swordsman stares down at him from the corner of his eye. His face is stern and his hands flex over the handles of his swords as he asks, “We're going to go hurt the guys that beat up Usopp. Do you want to stay here or go with us?”

Chopper's short muzzle points up at him as he considers his words.

“I want to fight!” he declares, tiny cloven hooves swinging up in the air, “I'm a pirate too!”

The smirk Zoro rewards him with has stars sparkling in the doctor's eyes. Sanji gets the sense that the swordsman's approval means a lot to the little guy. Or little raccoon dog. He's not sure what to make of him.

That's how he ends up watching Luffy break down the door to the Franky House using his gum gum bazooka, with a swordsman on one side and a raccoon dog swelled into the size of a monster at his back.

The raucous party inside stills to a deafening silence when one of the largest members of the Franky Family is sent flying across the room. The tables under him splinter as he crashes into them, playing cards and booze spilling across the floor. The rest of the Franky Family scattered across the room gape at the mess, before whipping around to the door.

“You're the captain of that weak little long-nosed guy!”, The largest man in the room laughs, stepping up to where the door used to be. His eyes are cloudy and his voice is fuzzy from the booze and merriment of the party. He continues to shout carelessly, “Why don't you leave that head of yours while you're here! We can collect on the doubtlessly, puny bounty attached to it!”

The man dominates the room with his large frame, the iron body armor he wears only adds to it. He has to curl into himself to address the Straw Hats by the door and even then his head looms high above over Luffy. The teenager brings up a scrawny arm to punch at the iron armor. His other arm joins in and soon the large man's chest is being barraged by a series of ineffective hits. Sanji shifts on his feet. Next to him, Zoro doesn't seem worried as he ties a dark green bandana around his head so he decides to wait and see what happens. His patience pays off as with one last double-fisted punch the man is sent flying across the room, same as the first. There's a giant hole where his chest armor used to be. The jeering around the room switches to panicked shrieking and they rush to aim a series of cannons at the Straw Hats.

One of Zoro's swords knocks against his side and Sanji sidesteps to allow him to take the lead, “Be my guest., Marimo.”

The green-haired man sends him a wink, biting down on the white hilt of his sword. His voice is a mumbled mess around the hilt but Sanji makes out the words “Watch this.”

With two swords gripped in his hands and one, bizarrely, held in place with his teeth he cuts his way through the air just as the cannons fire. In the next second, the Franky House is a hailstorm of cut cannonballs. They smack against the tiles, leaving a spiderweb of cracks far away from the door. Zoro sheaths the sword in his mouth and the cannons they were fired from also split into two. He's as smug as a stray cat that found its way into the canary's cage.

Sanji can tell when a challenge has been issued. His teeth itch for a cigarette. He leaps. The Franky Family all scramble for the backdoor having realized their mistake. They're not fast enough. His shoes kick off a nearby piece of debris to launch himself over the outer edges of the panicking mob. His spine curves back to angle his momentum down towards his target. His hand lands squarely on a face in the eye of the mob, stomach muscles constricting into a tight line to help maintain his handstand above the now-frozen mob. The man's nose bends painfully in on itself as he bears the full weight of the blonde. Wide, teary eyes stare out between Sanji's fingers and into the white plains of his blank mask.

His flat tone only unsettles the men around him more, “You're the ones who picked this fight. So stay and finish it.”

It's easy to sway his body down from there, feet swinging to crash against the heads of those around him. Teeth and skin give way under the edge of his shoes. He lets the momentum carry him to the floor. Shoulder rolling and feet still swinging. Till he can bring a hand up underneath him into another handstand. His shoes plant themselves on the ground again when he runs out of targets to hit. Zoro keeps a keen eye on him the entire time.

The doctor shifts into the shape of a reindeer with huge horns to knock the remaining family men down. The Straw Hats and Sanji gather back in the center of the room. All around them, the Franky Family men still capable of speaking make a desperate plea for their lives. Their boss already left with the money. They reason that with the money gone, there's no point in the Straw Hats continuing to punish them. One look at the dark expression on Luffy's and the others' faces makes it clear to Sanji that money is not the main motivation behind the raid on the Franky House. He thinks about a broken nose and shattered goggles. The Franky House comes apart around them, unable to contain the furious rage of the young pirates.

Later he sits stretched out on a piece of broken debris, Zoro standing in front of him. They watch Luffy stare out at the sea. The captain's caught up in a maudlin mood ever since the end of the fight. Chopper is near the bottom of the sign Luffy's perched on top of trying to talk to him.

“Leave him be, Chopper!” Zoro calls and the little reindeer quiets down but doesn't move away.

Sanji shifts forward to ask, “Are you guys going to go after, Franky?”

“And start where?” Zoro answers around the bandana he's retieing on his arm.

Even if the Straw Hats knew where to look it sounds like the Franky Family boss already spent it all. There's no point in rushing off right now. Sanji turns enough to look over towards Luffy. He should head back to the Dock-1 shipyard. He never actually got permission to leave from the people that matter and staying out longer than he needs to will only cause trouble. Just then the Straw Hat captain's dark eyes turn to stare down at him.

“I've decided. We'll say goodbye to the Going Merry here.”, he announces to his meager audience. Sanji blinks. Zoro and Chopper have grim looks on their faces but they don't protest. It's for the best. The caravel is on her last legs. If they tried to sail her out of Water-7 she'd sink to the bottom of the ocean taking her crew with her. The straw hat is knocked down to hang behind his back and Luffy shoots him a wide toothy grin, “I've also decided, you're going to be my cook!”

“I refuse.” the words leave his mouth before the declaration can finish bursting out of the other boy. Luffy's jaw drops wide, a disgruntled curve to his face.

“I refuse, your refusal!”

The childish comeback is enough to dim the panicked buzzing that's starting to form in the back of his head. He levels his face at him “I have a job, Luffy.”

“You hate your job!” Luffy shouts, slingshotting over to where he is. His sandals kick up a small dust storm at their feet. Sanji frowns at the determined look on the younger boy's face. This might be a problem.

Chopper peeks around Zoro's legs to ask, “You're a cook?”

He chooses to ignore him and the mosshead's muttered that explains it. He needs to dissuade this fast. It's not Luffy's fault that he doesn't know what Sanji really is. He's not a cook and he's not a shipwright. The flower petals burn a hole in his pocket and he shifts to stand. At least standing, he has a few inches on the other boy.

“If it's a choice between being a shipwright or being a dirty pirate, I'm picking the former.”

“You're lying.” Luffy declares. The idiot doesn't even have the decency to pretend he doesn't know what he's talking about. His shoulders are set in a confident line.

Sanji's molars grind against each other and the buzzing gets worse. He remembers feathers flying away from a log pile and his neck begins to feel itchy. He gets the sense that the Straw Hat captain isn't the type to give up easily and Sanji can't afford to have the boy's oddly intense focus aimed towards him. He tries a different tactic. Decides to give him a grain of truth in the hopes it's enough.

“I had a captain, once and it didn't end well.” his voice rings out hollow as he says it. There's smoke in his nose and the words claw at his chest, “I watched my entire crew die, Luffy. I'm not eager to do it again.”

The others pause. Chopper's ears pull back against his head and his eyes shimmer in the afternoon sun.

“I'm sorry about your crew,” Luffy replies. His voice and face are somber, but only for a moment before it spreads into a wide grin, “But I'm not going to die! I'm Monkey D. Luffy and I'm going to be king of the pirates!”

The sheer force and absurdity of the statement stills the air in his lungs. Grief mingles with the buzzing in his head. The grief he clawed out from behind the calcified bones in his chest and presented to the others only for the straw hat boy to look at and dismiss it with the words of a silly dream.

The younger boy shouts like it never existed, “Being a pirate is fun! It's the free-est thing in the world!”

A shaky hand lifts towards his neck panicking that the cloth had shifted during the fight with the Franky Family. His fingers brush past the high collar of the coveralls he wears and worries at the red cravat underneath. The band of the explosive collar is still hidden though. Zoro's keen eyes watch the movement closely like he can see underneath the fabric regardless. The squirming thing inside him from this morning—leaks warmth into his blood and skin now. It melts the thick gel of apathy he wears there and mingles sickenly with the grief and buzzing from earlier. Instead of the comforting warmth of a hearth in a cold house, it's a heat that burns and brands where it curls around his tongue and out his mouth,

“I said no!”

Everyone startles.

He does something he hasn't done in a long time and lets his temper flare out and burn the hands reaching towards him, “That was enough to get these people to follow you? A stupidly childish dream about becoming king of the pirates?”

“It's not stupid!” Luffy's temper is quick to rise and match his own. The boy's fists creak, but he doesn't lift them.

Sanji scoffs, “In case you forgot, Vice Admiral Garp executed Gol D. Roger! Your precious former king of the pirates.”

“That doesn't matter!-”

“It does matter!” he interrupts, hissing the words out between bared teeth, “You led your crew into the Grand Line unprepared because of it! Your ship has been run ragged in a matter of months while you recklessly chase the words of a dead man!” he remembers the hurt feelings of a teenager boring into his back and thinks about the casual way Zoro talked about starving at sea, “You carelessly dismiss your crew's feelings for the sake of your own adventure, like a bad captain!”

Wide angry eyes slip away from his own. He lines up the final nail to firmly bolt this door shut, “You got left behind by a crew, who knew better than to let someone like you join them, and that's why you need to form your own. I won't be surprised if this one abandons you too once they realize you're devil-fruit power is not enough to protect them.”

It's a wild shot in the dark, but it seems to hit the nail straight in the head.

“That's enough.” Zoro's voice cuts coldly between them. One of his arms stretches out towards where a teary-eyed Chopper can cling to it. The greys of his eyes might as well have been made from the same steel as the swords strapped to his side. The heat under Sanji's skin dissipates leaving him cold. He stuffs shaking hands into his pockets and meets the swordsman's stare through the indifferent face of his mask. Luffy remains silent under the brim of his hat.

No one moves.

Zoro sighs, taking charge. He grabs the cloven hoof clinging to his arm to hold it in his hand instead. The other reaches over to tap the boy in the straw hat's shoulder. “C'mon, let's get back to the ship. We still have to tell the others about Merry. Robin has to be back by now too.”

Sanji squares his shoulders. Nico Robin won't be at the ship.

Surprisingly, it's Chopper who hesitates to leave. Zoro's arm tugs back as the doctor stops to turn his short muzzle up at Sanji, “Is it really that bad to dream?”

Yes, he wants to spit, but he doesn't. He spins on his heel and begins walking towards where he knows the meeting point is.

Chapter Text

“How did your impromptu field trip to the Franky House go?” Kalifa asks as soon as his feet hit the stone tiles of the balcony.

“Straw Hats destroyed it.”

“Naturally.” Their guest comments, head resting in her hand. Out on the balcony and sitting around the twisted metal of the small table, the two women almost look like two friends catching up in a cafe. Almost. The umbrella shades them from the waning afternoon sun casting deep shadows over their faces. From up on the balcony, the chatter and commotion of the backstreets are a faint noise in the distance. Even caught at a disadvantage, Nico Robin is an intimidating woman. Nothing about her relaxed posture matches that of someone under duress, rather more like a cat batting at a mouse trap curious about what it will do. Sanji steps away from that curiosity to head inside.

The safehouse is an unremarkable shoe box of an apartment situated far away from Galley-La's boarding houses with one bed and bath. He takes out the small bag he bought earlier, laying it down on the kitchen counter to begin preparing the tea. Water-7 is a booming city within Paradise with a strong hand in trade and shipbuilding—it wasn't hard to find a decent teashop on his way back from the Franky House. He puts a pot of water on to boil and hunts around the sparse cupboards for a teapot. The stonepot he pulls out has a sturdy design with a bridged handle and short spout, ideal for brewing strong teas and retaining heat. It's a good match for the tea he bought. The kitchen is close enough to the balcony doors that it's easy to hear the two women conversing outside while he works,

“The people in Water-7 didn't seem that adverse to pirates traveling their canals. You could have hired any suspicious person to botch the assassination and take the blame.” Nico Robin says. Kalifa must have already informed her about her role in tonight's plans, yet she sounds curious and unburdened by her circumstances.

“In the five years I've been undercover as his secretary, your wanted poster has been staring at me over his shoulder. It seems like for whatever reason, your existence Nico Robin, spooks him.”

The stonepot holds half a liter of fluid so he measures out four grams of tea leaves to stuff into the infuser and drops it in the now-boiled water. He busies himself rinsing the stonepot and cups till they are warm to the touch while the tea steeps. Outside, Robin makes a curious sound,

“Oh? I wonder what I've done to upset him so much.”

Kalifa's voice is a pleased purr as it filters in through the balcony doors, “It should be obvious by now. For someone like you, the fact that you're alive is enough.”

The conversation does not carry on from there. The mundane task of preparing the tea settles the last of the buzzing under his skin. He's worked hard to suppress his temper over the years, but it's still something he can pull on when he needs to. He is confident the fight down by the shore has successfully turned the Straw Hats' attention away from him and thus CP-9's involvement with Nico Robin. He pours the brewed tea into the stonepot and carries everything outside on a tray. Robin looks surprised when he places a cup down in front of her to serve her tea. He does the same for Kalifa before retreating to the balcony's edges.

“You're not going to join us, Mr. Mask?” Robin enquires, lips pulling up into a polite smile.

Kalifa picks up her tea to take a whiff of it, “Don't mind him,” over her shoulder, she asks, “What is it this time?”

“A delicate and aromatic black tea with a floral and fruity undertone,” he answers.

“Fitting for our guest, how sweet.” She stares at Robin's untouched cup, “You can drink it. Sanji has a thing about keeping his food pure, he won't poison it or drug it.”

Not just his food. Any food. He kicked up a fuss every time a handler wanted to use his unique abilities and skills to poison or drug a victim's food. He's already given them his hands and they took everything else they wanted. This is the one remaining piece of the boy he used to be that he refuses to let them have. He's not going to let the World Government besmirch the pride of the Cook Pirates by desecrating food for as long as he is its last remaining carrier. The unyielding press of metal shifts against his neck when he leans down against the balcony's railings. That stubbornness, he thinks bitterly, is partly to blame for why—three years after bargaining his way back to living in fresh air, he's still leashed, without complete freedom.

A delicate ring of ceramic clinks behind him and a second later Robin's pleasant voice praises him, “This is lovely, thank you.”

The blood in his veins barely flows faster than the sluggish pace it settled into years ago at her words. Once upon a time a compliment, even as miniscule as that—about something he served—would have had his heart racing. Especially from a lovely woman such as Nico Robin. Kalifa turns to him and he knows what she's about to ask. He answers before she can, “I'm not cooking in this shitty kitchen.”

“You're a cook?” Robin asks, long fingers cradling the cup in both hands.

It's the same words he heard earlier in the day from the others. It makes his breath hiss through his teeth on instinct, “I can cook, that doesn't mean I am one.”

The sound of the front door opening quiets the conversation. The tall stature of Rob Lucci ducks through the balcony doors, careful not to knock his hat against the frame. The sun has mostly set by now leaving the area darker than it was. Hattori turns to stare at Sanji while Lucci makes straight for the table. The previous flash of paranoia down by the shore rears its head again before he dismisses it. Even if the bird had followed him down to the Franky House, he made his loyalties loud and clear. There is no reason for the World Government to doubt his involvement in this assignment.

Robin's demeanor turns colder with the addition of Lucci at their table—the cat cautiously pulling its paw back from the spring mechanism.

“The first attempt on Iceberg's life will happen tonight. The real assassination will happen tomorrow,” Lucci says, short and perfunctory, “Sanji will go with you tonight.”

“Doesn't that defeat the purpose of sending someone else?” Robin challenges.

“He won't be identifiable.”

Robin's eyes flicker over to the mask he's wearing and accepts this as the answer. Sanji shifts trying to loosen the pool of dread trickling into his stomach. His teeth itch to gnaw on the butt of a cigarette.

Nico Robin does something unexpected next. She bargains for the Straw Hats' lives.

Everything in the information packet Aokiji sent over, describes Nico Robin as a cold, calculating individual who prioritizes her freedom over the lives of others. A scribbled note on the bottom of the file reads No permanent attachments to anyone/organizations – hostage manipulation is not an option. This callousness is what has allowed her to evade government officials and bounty hunters since she was an eight-year-old girl. Yet, now she agrees to give up on the two-decade-long game of cat-and-mouse for the sake of the Straw Hat pirates.

Lucci doesn't blink at her demands. He agrees not to interfere with the Straw Hats' escape from the city once the assassination is completed, although they cannot guarantee the citizens of Water-7 won't try to retaliate. By the end of the discussion, Robin nods her acceptance of the terms of their agreement despite it including her inevitable incarceration at Enies Lobby. Sanji regards her through the holes of his mask unsure of what to think of the oldest member of the Straw Hats.

Hours later he stands with Nico Robin on a rooftop dressed in dark robes, yet to make up his mind. A hood drapes over his head. Robin is dressed much the same sans mask. Below them, the usually bustling hub of the shipyard is deathly quiet in the late-night air. All the workers have long since gone home, or to Blueno's bar, for the night. Iceberg should be the only person left somewhere inside the building. Presumably at his desk in his office. Sanji's job is to lead Robin straight to the target, from there it's up to her to pull the trigger once she's been identified.

“Kalifa and I spent the last few months making copies of all the keys we need, it should be easy enough to move through the house,” he says, careful to keep his voice down.

“I'll keep an eye out while we work.” Robin hums, holding up an open hand. A blue eye blinks at him from the center of her palm. Her hand duplicates into a fan of multiples before dissipating into an eruption of pink flower petals.

“Handy.”

The medicine Lucci handed him before they departed weighs heavily in his pocket. Robin watches him take it out now. He hesitates, but he doubts she would be complacent like the swordsman earlier, and lifts a hand to raise the mask enough to swallow the medicinal ball. It crushes between his teeth, a bitter acidity filling his mouth.

He resists the urge to wince at the feeling of his heart beating harshly against his ribs. His skin feels electric and touch-sensitive similar to having a fever. With a thought, his body begins to fade from view. He has around 20 minutes before the after-effects kick in.

“You're a devil-fruit user?” Robin asks. It's the first time in their brief acquaintance that she sounds caught off guard. Sanji huffs out a laugh with no humor in it. He can swim just fine.

“Focus, Nico Robin.”

With no other way to do this comfortably, he reaches out to take her hand. She looks more fascinated than disturbed at the way her arm begins to turn transparent till eventually, her entire body fades from view. He feels her bring their hands up closer to her face. His fingers pull and wrist turns as she manipulates their joint hands from side to side, “I did not see that coming.”

He turns his mask fully towards her even though she can't see it, “Was that a shitty invisibility pun?”

“You started it, Mr. Mask.”

Once again she acts differently from the cold, indifferent, woman described in the file. This Nico Robin cares about more than just herself and tries to engage in conversation with others. He tilts his head, blonde hair shifting under the hood, “Being around the Straw Hats made you different.”

Her voice is soft and wistful, “Luffy does that. He has a way of forcing you to drop all your masks.”

Sanji snorts tugging at their joint hands. He leads them over to the edge of the roof, “Okay, that was a lousy attempt at a crack about the mask.”

———

Robin examines their joint hands while they move through the house. Or where she thinks they might be hanging between them. There is no warp or shimmer to the tiles underneath that give away their position and the etched pattern continues to shift under their feet undisturbed. Invisibility is a handy ability for an assassin to have. One Crocodile would have wanted to recruit to Baroque Works once upon a time. She wonders if the medicine she saw him take outside works, in the same way, Chopper's rumble balls do to enhance an existing ability.

Sanji leads them through the building in confident twists and turns. He must have done recognizance on the building during his time assigned at Water-7. There is nothing much for her to do at this stage except keep her feet light and occasionally use a hand to peek around a corner so she lets her mind wander.

It is obvious the CP-9 agents are hoping to spook Iceberg into making a move by faking an attempt on his life. What that move is she doesn't know. It'll presumably happen between now and tomorrow night when the real assassination will occur. Framing her and placing the blame on the Straw Hat Pirates is only a convenient cover-up to hide any government involvement. The talk with Kalifa did not clear up the question of why the CP-9 agents hadn't done this before tonight. For some reason, her appearance on Water-7 and her involvement in this assassination plot is significant to the outcome somehow. Even if it was a coincidence she ended up here in the first place.

They pause outside a pair of heavy wooden doors and Sanji drops her hand. A quick tap against her hand stops her from opening the door,

“If you don't pull the trigger, I'll sink a knife into him.” Sanji's murmur sounds from somewhere near her left. The words are not meant to reassure or comfort. It's a failsafe in case she doesn't go through with her end of the assignment. She pushes the door open, leaving enough time for another body to slip in before closing it.

The mayor's office is dark except for a single point of light in the middle of the room. Smudges around the walls imply the existence of portraits and heavy furniture pushed up against the edges of the room. The mayor himself sits at a big ornate desk, a lamp illuminating the paper in his hand.

Iceberg's eyes widen when she steps into the office. She assumes it's because of the gun held in her hand but then he says her name and it becomes obvious he is more shaken by the sight of her. The light shifts in the room enough for her to catch the eyes of her childself peeking over the edges of his shoulder. Kalifa mentioned seeing her bounty poster hanging there for longer than the five years she's been working at Water-7 as an assistant to the mayor. Robin pauses. Her partnership with Crocodile only began four years ago and none of what they did should have reached the tides near the City of Water.

None of the other underground organizations and criminals she previously worked with granted her nearly as much notoriety as her, Ms. All Sunday persona. The only other name she's well-known by is the demon child of Ohara. She wants to ask what significance she bears to this man, but she's acutely aware of the invisible presence of the CP-9 agent in the room. She will not jeopardize the safety of her crew to satisfy her curiosity.

The scrape of the mayor's chair sliding back is loud in the room when he moves to stand. The first two shots make her ears pop. The bullets plunge into his lower abdomen with a wet squelch, far away from any major organs. If he makes a sound it's not audible over the ringing in her ears. The mayor's movements stutter, hands shooting up to his chest instead of the bleeding wounds in his stomach. He jerks to the side presenting his back to her, hands clutching protectively over his heart. This time she aims for the area around his shoulders as close to the center as she wants to risk it. However, she's not Usopp and she sees one veer off course and into more dangerous territory. The mayor of Water-7 drops face-down onto the floor, five bullet holes ripped through his torso.

She feels more than sees Sanji move past her towards the bleeding man. The ringing in her ears dies down enough for her to hear the sound of muffled squeaking coming from the body on the floor. An invisible force pushes Iceberg over onto his back. A trickle of blood flows down his head, dripping onto his ear and into his hair. His suit lapels lift and a mouse is tugged out from between the folds. The tiny thing squabbles and squeals but can't escape from the invisible hold on its body. It's bizarre watching a mouse float mid-air towards the spacious cage situated in the corner of the room—all the while making a valiant attempt at leaping back towards its owner. It is only when the small thing is locked away safe inside its cage that she feels a hand tap against her raised arm.

“Trash it.” Sanji's plain voice whispers.

She does. Staging a burglary is not unfamiliar territory to her. The pool of blood under the mayor's body spreads across the floor while she works. After trashing the office, a hand slips back into hers and they make their escape.

Once they're outside and far enough away Sanji drops her hand and the invisibility, “He's not going to die from all that?”

“The wounds are all non-lethal,” She assures, feeling her lips tug up into the cold smile of her Ms. All Sunday persona. Her specialty is making non-lethal wounds appear devastating. Whiskey Peak was the last time she thought she would have had to use this particular skill. She continues, “Although, to everyone else, it will look like a serious attempt on the mayor's life.”

———

Paulie is the last Dock-1 shipwright to arrive the next morning. No one protests when he drops into the recently vacated chair next to Iceberg's bedside. The grey light of the early morning does nothing to add color to the ashen face lying on top of the pillows. Someone wiped off Iceberg's signature dark lipstick revealing cracked colorless lips. The skin around his eyes is pinched and shadowed from blood loss and pain. Yet, Robin was right. The beloved mayor of Water-7 survived his wounds and outside these walls, the citizens are in an uproar about the attempted murder. Sanji watches the starched white blankets rise and fall with each labored breath knowing that by tonight they will cease to move.

Over the past few months, the owner of Galley-La had every right not to allow Sanji to apprentice at his shipyard. Not using his hands for hard labor limits the amount of tasks he can do, something that grated at the other shipwrights. However, Iceberg had been more forgiving of his refusal to use his hands than Sanji has experienced from a superior in a long time. He seemed amused at this odd quirk of Galley-La's newest apprentice. An apprentice who had insisted on working there in the first place and refuses to take off his mask.

“As long as he does it with a Don, it's fine,” Iceberg told Paulie.

Sanji crosses his arms, dismissing the shimmer of guilt trying to sink into his skin. Preventing Iceberg's death is not worth throwing away everything he's worked for the last three years. He might be CP-9's youngest member, but he's also their oldest recruit which makes him less trustworthy in their eyes even without the other outlining circumstances surrounding his recruitment. The other members' recruitment happened at a much younger, influential, age.

He sees the ghost-images of his brothers in Lucci and Kaku's inability to form human emotions in a way that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up whenever he's alone with them. Lucci's ventriloquism act with Hattori during undercover missions is meant to hide the dead tone he normally speaks with and his inability to add emotion to his voice. While Kaku constructed a cheerful personality for undercover missions similar to how a dog can learn to do a trick without understanding the reasoning behind it. Kalifa and Blueno were raised differently from the other two. They were instead taught not to form emotional attachments rather than have them erased which is why they get assigned undercover identities that deal with the public directly.

“All things considered, you're pretty lucky.” Paulie says, smile pinched in the corners, “Anyway, you just focus on getting better in the meantime you can count on us to take care of the shipyard!”

Lucci, Kalifa, and Kaku all stand behind Paulie while Lalu and Sanji stand near the foot of the bed. Together they form the proper image of Dock 1's guard dogs, dutifully protecting their hurt owner.

Iceberg's answering hum is tired. A lump wiggles and squirms under the covers of the bed until a pink nose sticks out from underneath, whiskers twitching. Tyrannosaurus, Iceberg's mouse, darts out from the covers, its white furry body bouncing across the bed till he reaches the edge of the corner near Sanji. Angry chitters burst out from the little thing and Sanji takes a step back. Next to him, Lulu tries to calm the mouse down but it evades all attempts at petting it.

Lalu's eyebrows disappear behind his sunglasses, “The hell's gotten into him?”

“He's been through a lot,” Iceberg mutters. His heavy eyelids crack open a sliver to watch his furry friend squeak its little lungs out at Sanji. They're cloudy from the pain meds and each word drags through his chest between wheezy breaths, “About the people who broke into my room last night-”

Paulie shifts forward to lean on his elbows, “Yeah, that's still under investigation-”

“No, I remember them.” Iceberg's quiet voice interrupts.

Sanji's attention jerks away from the furious mouse at the words. Them. The conversation around him dims under the sound of blood rushing past his ears.

“The one who shot me was a woman named Nico Robin.”

“And the other?” Hattori asks somehow sounding grim despite the high-pitched tone he speaks with. Sanji stuffs his shaking hands into his pockets, knuckles white where the skin stretches tightly over them.

“I don't know, I couldn't see their face.”

“The Straw Hats were looking for one of their crewmates late yesterday afternoon,” Kaku pipes up. He drops his cheerful persona for a more somber expression, “The crewmember's name was Nico Robin.”

Paulie's teeth grind down on his cigar. His knuckles are tightly fisted as Sanji's own where they rest on his knees, “Why would the Straw Hat pirates do this?”

A faint commotion trickles in from outside getting louder the closer it comes to the room. A second later the doors burst open and Tilestone's large frame lurches past the doorframe shouting something about the Straw Hats fighting the Franky Family at Dock-1. Sanji refuses to meet any of the other CP-9 agents' eyes as they all leave to take care of the situation before the shipbuilding factory gets destroyed.

The shipbuilding factory is in shambles, on the verge of being wrecked when they arrive. Nami and Luffy are the only Straw Hats involved in the fight with Franky and two other women of the family. They are initially excited when they spot the shipwrights approaching, but that soon changes after Paulie launches his attack. It becomes an all-out brawl between Luffy, the Shipwrights of Galley-La, and the Franky Family boss after that. The latter two are outnumbered and at a disadvantage inside the shipwrights' home turf. Lucci lands a hit that sends the Straw Hat captain flying into a pile of broken debris while Tilestone takes care of Franky.

Paulie wastes no time hurling accusations at Luffy, who looks stunned at his words. Sanji spots the same expression reflected on Franky where he's climbing out of his own pile of rubble. The Family boss' concern over Iceberg's health gets drowned out by the force of the Straw Hat captain's anger.

“You're wrong!” Luffy shouts, teeth bared, “If you knew Robin you wouldn't say that, so take that back!”

Sanji grimaces at the childish denial. There's no waiver or hesitance in his stance though. No matter what's thrown his way as proof, the Straw Hat captain firmly believes in his crewmate's innocence.

“Luffy...”

Sanji turns towards the concerned tone of Nami's voice. She's eying the shipwrights beginning to surround and circle her friend.

Luffy doesn't notice that the men around him are out for blood even after Kaku insinuates their upcoming execution by the shipwrights' hands. Some of his previous anger calms and he attempts to speak more diplomatically, “Let me talk to Ice Pops. This has to be a mistake, there's no way it was Robin!”

Sanji is once again caught off guard at the way Luffy takes in the situation and adjusts his approach a second after acting recklessly. Like someone still learning not to react impulsively in a way that will hurt his friends. He observed the same thing happen yesterday during their conversation behind the log pile. Both times now the rookie captain showed a willingness to learn what it means to be a responsible leader for his crew.

“We'd be fools to let you anywhere near him. Criminals have no right to make demands.” Lulu declares.

A shift in the energy around them has Sanji looking around him wearily. He eyes the crowd watching the fight. It begins with a murmur that soon builds into the heaving shouts of an angry snapping crowd.

The shipwrights' conviction of the Straw Hats' guilt incited the spectating crowd into a raucous mob. All around them, people start chanting for the death of the pirates and it's not long till they zero in on the most vulnerable member standing near them. Sanji watches a man step up behind Nami, a large forearm coming up to wrap around her thin neck. A swift kick to the man's shoulder sends him stumbling back. Sanji wraps a firm arm around the redhead's waist, jumping them away. Robin's job is only half-done and their end of the bargain includes allowing the Straw Hats to leave Water-7.

Luffy's alarmed shout cuts off when he sees them safely land far away from the angry mob. Dark eyes regard him for a second, dimming into something contemplative and upset before turning back to the other shipwrights. The crowd focuses their ire on Sanji,

“She's one of them!”

“She was riding the Yagara with Straw Hat, yesterday!”

“Aren't you upset they hurt your boss? Where's your pride as a Galley-La worker!”

Nami's tight hold around his neck from the jump loosens and she steps back. He stands between her and the restless crowd, but no one tries to get closer. He's too busy watching them to notice the weird face she sends his neck. Luffy continues to bargain with the shipwrights one last time and the fight picks back up again. With one notable difference: Luffy refuses to fight back. He dodges the attacks aimed at him and the hits he can't dodge he takes without falling.

“This is like Jaya all over again...” Nami complains to no one, her voice panicked as she watches Luffy get tangled up in Paulie's coarse ropes. The other shipwrights go after him with guns and saws. Sanji moves to join the fight.

Nami whirls on him before he can, “Robin has no reason to go after Mr. Iceberg, none of us do!” she snaps.

“Listen, lady, your face might be cute when it's angry but there's no point in arguing with me,” he replies, hands in the air, “I just do what I'm told.”

“How does that include being okay with murder!”

Sanji feels a sharp burst of amusement at her words. Outloud he says, “People protected by the law get murdered. You heard Kaku. As pirates, you forfeited those rights and protections. Killing a pirate is an act of heroism in the eyes of the Marines.”

Nami's hands ball into tight fists at her side. Behind them, Paulie calls for their death again which gets another roar of excitement from the crowd. The sound makes her flinch. There's a sharp whistle of something sharp cutting through the air and Kaku's knives trap Luffy against a wall. Tilestone aims a cannon of a gun at the pinned boy, pulling the trigger. The soundwave from the explosion rolls through the shipyard kicking up dust and debris. The heat of it presses against his skin. The explosion is barely louder than the roaring cheers of the crowd at the successful execution of Monkey D. Luffy.

Sanji freezes when he spots the dark expression on Paulie's face within the dissipating dust cloud. He forgets all about the deal with Robin for a moment. Watching the civilian members of Galley-La casually execute the death of a seventeen-year-old boy is...unexpected. He's lost in thought so he doesn't notice the Franky Family boss gearing up for an attack until a blast of air rips through the remaining structures of Dock-1 worsening the limited visibility around them.

Shouting from nearby residents alerts him to the fact that Luffy is alive. There's nothing they can do to stop the devil-fruit user from slingshotting away with his friend. The Franky Family also manages to slip away in the confusion.

Sanji picks his way over to the others. They're all splayed out on the ground exhausted from the fight and stunned by Franky's final attack. Paulie stands nearby anger still darkening his face. He's in the middle of saying something when Sanji reaches them and he only manages to catch the tail-end of it, “...have every member of Galley-La spread out and hunt them down. We'll settle this before sundown!”

A hand wraps around his arm and on instinct, he turns to kick out at whoever grabbed him. His heart lurches at the sight of Lucci staring down at him.

“C'mon,” Hattori says as Lucci steers him by the arm towards somewhere quieter. The sound of Kaku's shoes kicking up dirt follows them. They walk for a while searching for somewhere private to talk. The two buildings they're nestled between cast cold shadows over them when they eventually come to a stop.

“Well, that was close. I didn't expect the Galley-La workers to go that far.” Kaku says in reference to almost getting Luffy killed, “I almost regretted pinning him to the wall so hard.”

“I warned Nico Robin that there was nothing we could do if the residents of Water-7 decided to take revenge.” Lucci replies, his grip tightening when he turns to address him, "You didn't report anything about Iceberg seeing you last night.”

Sanji tries to ignore the instinctive urge to shake him off, goosebumps crawling up from where he's held in place by his arm, “I didn't know he did.”

“We are here for the sake of justice and you nearly jeopardize that in one night with your incompetence. And you don't know how you did it?”

“Geez, don't be dramatic. I-”

Lucci's words are clipped as he snaps, “Don't open your mouth, your excuses will just annoy me.”

“Spandam was the one who decided to recruit you to CP-9 because he is blinded by his ambitions.” he continues harshly, “He is also our chief which means he gets to act however he pleases regardless of our opinions, but if you get in the way I will find a way to send you back to the hole he found you in.”

Sanji breathes in through his nose instead of answering immediately. His heart jackhammers in his chest, and his face feels flushed behind the mask. He has no idea how Iceberg knew there was another person in the room last night. He'd already been unconscious and bleeding out when Sanji went to grab Tyrannosaurus. More calmly he says, "I don't know what tipped him off, but Iceberg said he doesn't know who the person was so the mission isn't compromised."

“That's not good enough.” It's Kaku who speaks this time.

Sanji doesn't say anything. He tugs lightly at the grip on his arm to get Lucci to let go which the other man does with an annoyed sigh,

“Nico Robin's meeting should be over by now. Go escort her back to the safehouse and make sure you don't run into any of the Straw Hats,” he instructs, not kindly.

Sanji nods and turns to go when a thought strikes him. He looks back toward the other two agents ignoring the cold look Lucci sends him, “What do you guys know about Franky? For a crime boss, he seemed pretty shaken up at the idea of Iceberg being dead.”

———

The streets of Water-7 are a buzz of activity in the afternoon sun. The sound of wood and metal banging against each other echoes up and down the stone streets and waterways. Everywhere the residents work together to shore up their homes and businesses. Those that aren't are evacuating to the upper streets. The preparations for the incoming Aqua Laguna tonight are in full swing. Moving between and around these residents are the workers of Galley-La on the hunt for the wanted pirates.

Sanji walks with Robin down one of the quieter streets when a loud clatter draws both their attention to something on the other side of the canal. They watch a reindeer, with what's starting to become a familiar pink hat, stumble down a nearby set of stairs. The Straw Hat's doctor spots them immediately.

“Robin!” he calls out, darting over to the edge of the canal. His ears flick forward in excitement when he gets closer,

“We were all so worried! You probably got confused last night when you couldn't find us.” the little doctor's excited chatter drops for a second, a cloven hoof pawing at the ground. It's easy to read the guilt on his face at what he must think is them abandoning their friend without telling her where they were going. Sanji remembers Luffy deciding they were going to part ways with the Going Merry. They must have done so last night. Chopper perks back up again as he continues, having yet to notice him nearby, “We're staying at an Inn now, I'll tell you all about it on the way back!”

Robin's shoulders pull up into a tight line. Any warmth that might have been in her voice fades away when she says, “I won't be going back to the crew. We're parting ways here in this city.”

Chopper blinks and says nothing. Then all of a sudden water starts to well up in his eyes. They spill over the edges falling faster with each passing second, “Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry if I did something to make you mad at the bookstore, I promise I won't do it again if you tell me what I did wrong!”

Robin's hand twitches and Sanji can hear her breath hitch at the next inhale. The reindeer tries to wipe at the mess of tears on his face, but it's awkward in this form and he can't manage to lift a leg high enough to do it. The tears drip on the stones below,

“I don't know why you're saying that so please just come back!” his voice pitches high with distress, chest heaving, “The Merry can't be fixed. Luffy and Usopp got into a bad fight even though he's still hurt and Zoro says he's not a Straw Hat anymore and everyone thinks you tried to kill the mayor!”

Sanji frowns at the information spilling out into the canal between them. It's unclear if Zoro is the one who is leaving the Straw Hats or if Usopp's fight with Luffy somehow ended with him being kicked off the crew. Either way, the situation is strange from what he witnessed yesterday and it's clear the little doctor has been pushed to his emotional limit. Chopper shakes where he stands, head bowed towards the ground while he continues to cry.

“About that,” Robin starts the edges of her cold persona stitched tightly around herself. There's no hint of the reindeer's words having affected her, “I apologize for pinning such an unreasonable crime on all of you. Everything that was said in the newspaper is true. Late last night, I broke into the mayor's place of residence and shot him. Inside me, I carry a darkness that none of you know about. One day, that darkness will be the end of all of you. Although I only spent a short time with you, from this day forward, we will never see each other again.”

Chopper stops crying to stare at her eyes wide, “No way...”

“I'm afraid you'll be taking the fall for last's night attack while I escape. And let me warn you. The situation will only get worse.”

“Please! We'll work this out together!” Chopper pleads, despite everything. He shakes his head, cloven hooves rising, out-of-sync, to crash back down on the stones. The confession of guilt is somehow not enough for him to turn his back on a friend.

The coldness in Robin's voice warms for a second, unable to resist offering the upset doctor a smidgen of kindness in their last moments together, “Thank you for all the kindness you've shown me. Know that I'll never forget it.”

Robin turns to walk away and Sanji falls in step beside her. Behind them, the doctor continues to call out to her between hiccupping sobs.

Sanji re-evaluates everything he's learned about the Straw Hats in the last two days. He initially thought of them as a rookie pirate crew that's lucky to have survived this far into the Grand Line. The Straw Hats treated the Going Merry like a member of the crew and the thought of parting ways with the ship felt like abandoning one of their own. During his visit to the Straw Hats' ship, Zoro's threat while ridiculous was sincere. The aftermath of the Franky House was proof of that. He'd given Sanji the impression of being the Straw Hats guard dog, someone who often protected the weaker members of the crew. He can't imagine the swordsman choosing to leave them. Luffy, Zoro, and Chopper were unforgivingly vicious in the fight with the Franky Family yesterday because they hurt the long-nose. He doesn't know what could have caused Luffy to fight him later that day and potentially kick him off the crew.

Yesterday, Sanji didn't want to risk blowing CP-9's cover by having Luffy's attention drawn to him so acted harshly. At the time attacking the boy's worth as a captain seemed like an effective method. A lot of rookie captains deal with insecurity over their leadership and even if that wasn't enough he reasoned the swordsman's overprotective nature would prevent him from extending another invitation to join his crew. Chopper had been more upset over Robin leaving than the news that she shot Iceberg and Luffy didn't even want to entertain the idea of her guilt at the shipbuilding factory.

The Straw Hats seem to waver between being fiercely loyal and protective of their own, to splintering apart.

Chapter Text

Sanji drops Robin's hand and the invisibility cloaking them from view. Across the room, Iceberg straightens against the pillows used to prop him up, mouth tightening into a grim line.

“Is this how you snuck in last night?” he asks, shoulders trembling with the strain of keeping himself upright, “You must be the other person from my office. What Devil-fruit makes it possible for you to disappear?”

“I'm not a Devil-fruit user.”

Both occupants pause at his casual dismissal. Robin lingers near the edges of the room so he takes the lead, stepping closer to the mayor's bedside. Iceberg eyes the unfamiliar mask on his face with growing trepidation that Sanji's not worried about. With the hood pulled over his head and the addition of the new mask, the mayor would have a hard time identifying even him.

Movement from under the bed cover catches his eye. A second later a familiar ball of white fur darts out and Sanji find's himself at the receiving end of Tyrannosaurus' wrath for the second time that day. An inkling of amusement stirs at the mouse's antics, but it's muffled and distant, a growing sense of separation spanning the distance between himself and where he physically stands.

An unsteady hand attempts to corral Tyrannosaurus back towards safety. The movement forces Iceberg to strain forward in order to reach and Sanji doesn't waste the opportunity. The knife pierces into the hard muscle of Iceberg's shoulder with ease. He jerks the handle to the side, dragging the mayor along to fall in a painful heap on the floor.

“Hang on, it's not time yet!” Robin's sharp reprimand flares out blunted around the edges from shock that's quickly hidden behind a mask of indifference.

Blueno's orders, Sanji thinks dispassionately. Outloud he parrots her words from last night back at her, “It's a non-lethal wound.”

Even to his own ears his voice sounds deadened and hollowed out. The thick layer of apathy that's been bleeding out from beneath his skin since they entered the room, pools and aggregates around him. Forming a barrier between himself and the room. The thick layer doesn't dim sight and sound—just provides a flattened distance from it.

“I see, so that's how CP-9 handles things,” the mayor spits out, biting and bitter. Blood wells up from between his fingers, flowing over the curve of his hunched shoulder to drip onto the floor.

Sanji shrugs. He thinks distantly the mayor of Water-7 shouldn't be able to name the secret branch of Cipher Pol he belongs to. Let alone know they were the ones trying to kill him. He follows the thread of thought but the edges of his mind flare thick and gelatinous and he can't muster up the curiosity to question how Iceberg knows.

“That poor straw hat boy,” the mayor pushes himself up onto shaky limbs, genuine remorse clouding his words. Someone must have informed him of Luffy's near execution at the hands of the Dock-1 shipwrights earlier in the day. More blood drips onto the carpet without a hand on the wound to staunch the bleeding, “He had nothing to do with this did he?”

Robin moves from her position at the edge of the room to stand next to Sanji, peeling off her mask as she comments, “There's no need to beat yourself up about it. After all, you simply told the truth as you saw it.”

Iceberg ignores her half-attempt at offering something akin to consolation. The mayor focuses on Sanji instead, “Identifying Nico Robin during the attack was part of your plan?”

“The failed attempt on your life was meant to do two things.” Sanji folds his long legs underneath him to crouch down in front of the mayor. The strain of pushing himself upright enough to lean against the bed darkened the growing stain around the hole in Iceberg's shirt. It's more blood than someone recently injured should be able to handle losing while still staying conscious. Sanji focuses back on Iceberg's face, “The first was to have you identify Nico Robin as your attacker and place the blame for the attack squarely on the Straw Hat pirates' shoulders.”

Iceberg's breath puffs out in tense, shallow, increments. He meets the covered eyes of Sanji's mask without flinching, "The second was to push you into revealing where you hid the blueprints for the ancient weapon, Pluton, passed down from shipwright to chosen apprentice for generations. Two of our agents are retrieving them from Paulie right now.”

He doesn't elaborate. There's no need to. They both know the sentence ends with the foreman of Galley-la's blood spilled on the ground.

Iceberg's face darkens with fury, “You must be very damn proud of yourself and your plan.”

The words spit across the distance separating them. They aim to pierce through the thick film surrounding Sanji and bite into his skin. He tilts his head, however the words dissolve before they can draw blood. Sanji straightens up heading for the wooden double doors leading out of the room. Robin makes a curious sound.

“I'll take care of the shipwrights out in the hall. I'll let you know when we get the order to wrap things up in here,” he replies before leaving. The door clicks closed behind him and the ensuing fight with the shipwrights of Galley-la drains him more than he's willing to admit. He has to be careful not to use too much of the Blackleg style which means driving fists and knives into flesh till the bodies drop and don't get back up again.

Sanji eyes the long knife in Armstrong's fist. It's wickedly sharp with a blade as long as his forearm. Two months ago, the other man led the betting pool on how far away Sanji can kick a nail into place. Armstrong lunges and Sanji sidesteps, bringing his own long knife up to block the swing aimed at his back. The two blades collide with a sharp ring, echoing down the hall. Before he can move, the other man's bulky arm wraps around his, locking down the knife and twisting Sanji's arm hard to the side. Sanji grunts. His arm burns from the stretch and the muscles tighten till they spasm from the awkward angle. The knife in his hand drops to the floor with a thunk.

Armstrong pushes his advantage, still gripping Sanji's arm. The force of enduring the weight of the man bends his spine back, Sanji's right arm stretching painfully behind him. The tip of Armstrong's knife gleams under the overhead lights as it sweeps down towards his chest. Rolling with the strain, Sanji twists his torso, kicking up and hitting the side of Armstrong’s arm—knocking the attack off-target. The move creates some space between them. Armstrong’s eyes widen in surprise and Sanji doesn't hesitate. He pivots, driving a swift kick to the side of Armstrong’s head. The large man drops like a stone joining the rest of the unconscious shipwrights scattered across the floor. His shoulder throbs.

Sanji slouches down onto one of the chairs posted by the door, Waiting.

He hears him before he sees him.

Tilestone's thunderous face crests over the top of the stairs only darkening further at the sight of the unconscious shipwrights in front of him. There's a large hefty hammer slung over the shipwright's shoulder. Sanji rubs a finger over the shell of the Den Den Mushi hidden in his pocket, but the damn thing stays quiet. He sighs. This fight won't be over anytime soon.

In the next second, Tilestone charges, roaring angrily, “Bastard, how dare you, I'll kill you!”

After watching how the giant shipwright pulled the trigger this afternoon, Sanji doesn't doubt him. He throws his body to the side just in time to dodge the giant hammer aimed at his head. The chair shatters from the hit, sending wooden shards scattering across the floor. There's no way to avoid using his legs in this fight—not if he prefers his skull to be in one piece by the end. The fight with Tilestone lasts longer than any of the others. The hammer makes it harder to get in close and land a blow and the large man is also annoyingly quick with swinging the tool around despite the heavy weight of the hammer. They trade a few blows, each person landing insignificant hits.

Sanji catches himself on one hand, using the momentum to swing a leg up and land a kick on the big man's shoulder to disarm him. The muscles spasm around the edge of his shoes. Tilestone's grip doesn't waver. Sanji bends to dodge the next swing, feet crashing down onto the ground. Unfortunately, this leaves him stretched horizontally above the floor for a second. Sanji's head smacks painfully against the tiles, the edges of his mask digging into his skin and the air squeezes out of his lungs when Tilestone's large boot stomps down onto his back. The man's significant weight bears down on him and Sanji feels the bones in his chest creak, “If you laid a single finger on Mr. Iceberg, I'll tear you limb from limb!”

Sanji strains up to slip a hand under his cloak. His fingers brush around the hilt of his spare knife and he levers himself up on taxing limbs to slash at Tilestone's calf. The thick corded muscles yield under the sharp edges of the knife, severing with a wet snap. Blood pours down from the deep wound, staining his arm and clothes. The weight lifts off his back and he rolls to his feet. He watches Tilestone groan and stumble to his knees. Sanji incapacitates the large shipwright the same way he did Armstrong.

Panting, he surveys the hallway around him. No one moves to get back up again. He stares down at Tilestone for a second before moving to collect his knife where it fell during his fight with Armstrong. Sanji slips the last of his knives back into place under his cloak when the sound of ringing fills the empty air around him. Lucci's voice filters out the snail's mouth,

“It's me. There's been a hitch in the plan, all members report to the bedroom at once. Whatever you do—do not shoot Iceberg yet.”

It's not long till the two older agents round the corner, blood dripping from their hands. Sanji doesn't see the blueprints anywhere. He quietly follows the older agents back into the room where Iceberg and Robin are waiting. Hattori flutters in after them and the remaining blood in the mayor's face drain at the familiar sight of the bird perched on Lucci's shoulder. One by one the CP-9 agents remove their masks, expressing their displeasure at Iceberg for not handing over the blueprints. Until only Sanji is left wearing his mask. When he makes no attempt to remove it, Iceberg's face falls further into a grim sort-of recognition, “Sanji.”

It's not a question, so he doesn't bother to answer. Lucci lays out the events of the past five years for the mayor to see—from who they are to why they've been assigned to Water-7. He also goes over their encounter with Paulie earlier tonight. The blueprints Iceberg sent the foreman to retrieve were forgeries meant to trick the CP-9 agents into revealing their hand and Iceberg has no intention of letting the World Government have access to the real ones.

“Are you saying you don't trust the government, Mr. Iceberg?” Lucci drawls, chin lowering to look down at him. The cold fury makes the hair on Sanji's neck stand up, “That would be a shame.”

If Iceberg picks up on the warning, it doesn't show. He meets the challenge in the other man's eye head-on, “Not at all. It's human nature that I don't trust, Lucci.”

Iceberg's head cracks against the floor with the force of Lucci's kick.

“Show some respect, remember you're not my boss any more.”

Lucci tells Kaku to track the mayor's pulse and the one-sided interrogation begins. The older agent focuses on the story of Water-7's legendary shipwright, Tom, and his two apprentices. One living and one dead. Sanji feels a tinge of vindication when at the insunuation of Franky being the long-dead apprentice, Kaku signals an increased heart rate. He's leaning against one of the interior walls of the room when the sound of explosions and yelling echoes through the other side.

“Don't blame yourself, you're only human and under these circumstances, no one would be able to hide the truth from us for very long.” Lucci's in the middle of saying, lips pulled up into a predator's grin, “Just be grateful that justice will prevail in the end.”

A moment later, the wall next to Sanji's head caves in at the same time the heavy wooden doors break into pieces.

“Give Robin back!”

———

Iceberg kneels hunched over on the floor, fingers clenched over the bleeding wound in his shoulder. Four people surround him all dressed in long cloaks, various masks littering the floor at their feet. The large man she's never met before, but Nami recognizes the pigeon guy Lucci, the square long nose Kaku, and the blonde woman Kalifa as Iceberg's employees from yesterday. Luffy bursts through a wall at the same time as them with Paulie right behind him, because of course he does. Leave it to Luffy to show up wherever there's a fight even if she has no idea where he's been. Some of the fear thrumming through her veins disappears.

Once the dust settles, accusations begin to hurl across the room. Most of them stem from a wide-eyed Paulie, the blues of his jacket darkened and torn. His co-workers don't even try to deny their involvement in Iceberg's attempted assassination and the blonde shipwright gets goaded into a fight with the pigeon guy. There's a casual smugness to Lucci's real voice when he boasts about the power of CP-9. He reminds Nami of a predator, confident in his hunting skills. It sends a wave of goosebumps down her arms. Lucci's finger sinks through the skin and muscle of Paulie's chest like he's made of wet cardboard and the blonde shipwright collapses to his knees with a painful gasp. Even their captain is forced to back off after his fists only bounce off the Cipher Pol agent. He extends his rubber arm out to drag Paulie back behind the relative safety of Zoro, Nami, and Chopper.

There's a momentary pause in the fight and as one the Straw Hats shift their attention to their lost crew member near the back of the room.

“Robin, what gives?!” Luffy yells, voice hoarse from when Lucci attempted the same finger move against his throat.

“Do I have to repeat myself, I believe I said my farewells to the doctor before I left,” Robin answers. Nami's stomach tightens at the narrowed expression on the older woman's face. When they decided to go after Robin, she expected to run into the same person they met back in Alabasta but there is nothing of Ms. All Sunday's indifferent amusement.

Instead her friend's posture is rigid, tone cold and clipped as she addresses the doctor, “Didn't you pass that along Chopper?”

Nami glares at Robin, soothing a hand protectively through the fur of Chopper's reindeer form. The muscles under her hand jump and twitch, but Chopper doesn't say anything. It was obvious the doctor had been crying before he found them under the bridge that afternoon. His eyes were glazed over and subdued while he relayed Robin's message to them. It was later while they were waiting for nightfall that he broke down again sniffling into the material of Zoro's shirt.

“I'm doing this to make my wish come true, one that can't happen as long as we're together.” Robin states, fingers flexing around her crossed arms, “You may not find it fair, but to accomplish my goal I will make any sacrifice.”

It's Zoro who pipes up this time, “So, what's this wish of yours that includes framing your crewmates for attempted murder?”

The swordsman was the one who pointed out the hints in Robin's words saying they could be a means to lure the Straw Hats here tonight. He surprised Nami by insisting they keep an open mind after they've tracked Robin down. If she was their friend, they should forgive her. If it turns out she's their enemy they have to be ready to fight her. Iceberg's quiet voice breaks through the tension in the room. With the last of his failing energy, he begs Robin not let the CP-9 agents win, implying dire consequences if they do. Hands sprout around the mayor's body grabbing and twisting at injured limbs till he falls limp and unconscious.

“Robin! You're our friend, please come back!”

Robin turns away when Chopper starts yelling and a surge of hope warms Nami's chest. She's not the only one affected by the doctor's sincerity. The older woman and Zoro were always softer on the little reindeer than the rest of the crew. Things might be complicated with Usopp right now, but the Straw Hats don't abandon their friends. Even with everything that's happened since arriving at Water-7.

Something is forcing Robin to work with the World Government, Nami's sure of it. They're not going to allow the CP-9 agents to get away with manipulating their friend. She sees the same thought reflected in the dark eyes of their captain and by the way Zoro frowns at him, he does too. The warmth in her chest loosens the tension in her shoulders and she raises her clima-tact. The Straw hat pirates are going to do what pirates do best—steal whatever they want. Even a friend.

“Still spouting the same shitty words,” a voice drawls. A biting coldness spreads through Nami's core. It's the same flat tone they heard outside the entrance to Dock-1 yesterday, “Sorry, the lovely Ms. Nico Robin and I have a date to keep somewhere else.”

A familiar blank mask materializes between the Straw Hats and Robin. Sanji holds a different one in his hand, similar to the masks scattered across the floor.

“So you're a part of this too,” Zoro growls, shoulders tense, “Makes sense.”

Sanij's mask turns more fully towards the swordsman, leaning most of his weight on one leg. The movement shifts the folds of his cloak and light catches on the wet blood staining down one side of the dark material. She doesn't think any of it is his own.

"Jealous, Mossy?" Sanji challenges. There's an odd emptiness in his voice. A sort of vacantness haunting around the edges of his words when he speaks. Zoro bares his teeth, elbows widening in a familiar stance indicating he's about to draw his swords.

Kalifa interrupts before the two can lock horns, “We have two minutes until the whole building goes up in flames,”

Nami zeroes in on the gold pocket watch resting in the agent's palm, despite the fear crawling up her spine, a familiar urge to collect shiny things pulling at her limbs despite everything.

“We're finished here,” Lucci declares, waving a hand towards the large windows near Robin and Sanji, “You've done exactly as you were told, good work.”

Zoro growls when Sanji immediately backs off from their challenge, following after Robin, "You're just going to run away from a fight?"

The windows smash against the exterior of the building when they're opened. Outside the howling storms of the building Aqua laguna rips through the streets of Water-7. Sanji doesn't spare him a second glance as he disappears out of the window ahead of Robin. Zoro grunts, disappointed. He's more calm than before when he turns to address Luffy asking if he accepts Robin's departure from the crew. He unsheathes his swords like he already knows what the answer will be.

“No, no way!” Luffy shouts jaw set, “Robin you're still one of us, I won't let you run away again!”

The determined declaration of the Straw Hat captain chases Robin out the window she disappears from.

———

Franky's disgruntled complaints bounce around the passenger carriage when he's hauled aboard the Puffing Tom. The Cipher Pol agent carrying him has to fight to keep the man's wiggling frame balanced on top of his shoulder. Sanji's not surprised to see the Franky Family boss since Lucci called earlier, informing him they were bringing him in. The agent dumps Franky onto the carriage floor with a loud crack that rattles the undercarriage. The crime boss looks more pissed off than scared, rolled up in a thick piece of tarp with several yards of rope tied around him, “Hey bastard that hurt!”

The agent scoffs, tugging at his suit sleeves, “I don't want to hear another word out of you!”

“Don't flip your lid at me 'cause the long-nose managed to agitate the gravel and get away!”

Usopp? Sanji wonders. His mind feels clearer since leaving the stuffy air of Iceberg's room. The threads of his thoughts are easier to follow, When did the long-nosed Straw Hat and Franky get acquainted, wasn't he trying to kill Luffy yesterday?

A sudden tremor passes through his hands, knuckles scraping against the cigarette carton in his pocket. The urge to smoke shudders through his frame a second later. The sense of wrongness in his core blends with the nausea roiling around his gut and he swallows the sudden feeling of wetness forming at the back of his throat. The cloak he wore lays abandoned over one of the seats. He shucked it off as soon as they reached the train station, unable to tolerate the feeling of rough material rubbing against his overly sensitive skin any longer. The aftereffects of taking the medicine cause a sharp spike of pain through his frame anytime he moves the wrong way or his blood pressure spikes which he knows are signs his body is trying to right itself.

None of that has to do with the tightness expanding over his chest.

The fancy passenger carriage they are in sits at the front of the train, right behind the engine car. Plush red carpeting covers the floor and heavy white curtains drape along the sides of the room. The gold enamel on the wooden paneling around the walls looks gaudy and someone even bothered to paint the ceiling a nice blue. There's one row of cushy seats on each side of the train to make traveling more comfortable.

Franky and Nico Robin will be traveling in the first passenger car while the members of CP-9 share the second one. The rest of their escort to Enies Lobby will make up the remaining carriages behind CP-9s. A worker pokes their head through the carriage door, announcing the train's early departure. Kaku, Blueno, and the other Cipher Pol agents file out, heading toward their designated train carriage.

“Hurry up and take a seat, Nico Robin,” Lucci says, gesturing her deeper into the room, “In a few hours your very existence as a sin will be over.”

The skin around Robin's eyes tightens. She doesn't say anything. Franky turns a light shade of red, eyes snapping closed as she steps over his head to go sit down, “Woah there sister..!”

Lucci's attention moves on to Sanji, “Once we get moving, untie Franky and lock him up in a proper set of cuffs.”

Sanji nods. He'll be traveling with Robin and Franky then. The movement rubs against the metal around his neck and a muscle tightens in his jaw at the feeling. The CP-9 agents head towards the door. Panic flares up sharp and bright as Sanji realizes the other man means to leave, “Lucci!”

Sanji hates the way some of the anxiety he feels manages to creep into his voice. The other agent stops, hands folding over his chest in displeasure. He grits his teeth, craving the comfort of a cigarette filter between his lips. He's acutely aware of Franky's loud complaints behind him and the mute presence of Nico Robin further back. A dull throb passes through his limbs in time with his beating heart. Something about doing this here makes his shoulders want to curl over his chest. There is nowhere else to go though and no time to step outside. Smoke filters past the windows from the engine car out front. Sanji yanks at the cravat tied around his neck. The metal immediately starts to cool in the exposed air of the train car.

His voice flattens into something more passive when he speaks, “It'll go off if I travel too far from Water-7's borders.”

Meaning, that if the train starts moving while the collar is active, the explosives will trigger. Something the other agent knows. Lucci walks over to stare down at him and Sanji sinks into the apathetic indifference he's relied on over the years at the look in the other man's eye. Underneath them, the floor begins to tremble indicating the engines heating up. In the distance, the clanging bells ring louder, and somewhere the worker from earlier calls for everyone to take their seats one last time. Franky quiets down behind him.

Lucci's eyes narrow to focus on the collar. He doesn't reach for the band of metal, “If you think it isn't important that Iceberg noticed there was another person in the room, we could have stuck a mask on Blueno and used his devil-fruit power to get Nico Robin inside instead.”

Sanji feels his skin tighten over the stiffness in his spine. Spandam sent him off on his first long-term undercover assignment with one clear incentive: Don't break your cover, do as you are told, don't jeopardize the mission—and the collar can stay off permanently.

Completing this mission means he earns the right to travel through the Grand Line freely. Without being restrained by a handler or the invisible borders of an explosive collar. If the other CP-9 agents report his presence in the mission as a mistake, he loses all of that. He won't be able to fulfill his wish. Sanji stuffs his hands, still holding the cravat back into his pockets to hide their trembling—made worse by the medicine wearing off. Bitter nausea sparks at the bottom of his stomach but he bites his tongue, waiting out the other agent. The train begins to lurch under their feet.

“Kaku mentioned you only mastered one out of the six Rokushiki skills.” Lucci continues expression darkening, “All of this uselessness, and yet you want to call yourself a member of CP-9.”

Sanji knows Lucci didn't approve of his presence at Water-7. The older agent never hid his opinions whenever they were away from the public eye. Heat crawls up Sanji's neck and ears. He focuses on the dark blue-black of the ocean passing by the window behind Lucci, grateful for the mask. The hazy distance between himself and the room encroaches around the edges of his mind as the older agent's final words wash over him to drip onto the carpet, “When we reach Enies Lobby, we'll see if Spandam still thinks you're more useful outside of your cage now that he's finally gotten what he wants.”

There's a loud beep from the collar. Sanji's hand automatically lifts to catch the metal band when the locking mechanism springs open, blood pressure settling into something more stable. Breathing becomes a bit easier too. Sanji doesn't look away from the window.

“Behave,” Lucci commands to the room at large before leaving. The only sound is the rhythmic workings of the train underneath them. The Puffing Tom hits full speed at the same time Sanji stitches enough of his thoughts together to walk over to Franky. The crime boss regards him from the floor, eyebrows drawn together. Sanji goes to step over him and Franky's energy returns full force. He knocks a surprisingly hard head against Sanji's shin, “Hey, blondie untie me first!”

The pretty please he tacks on as an afterthought gets lost under the sound of his wiggling grunts. Some of the tension bleeds out of Sanji's shoulders, even as he bites back “You can spend the rest of your life in that potato sack for all I care!”

“Screw you!” Franky's head snaps up to glare at him. He teeters for a second before finding enough balance to sit up, “I said pretty please, what the hell else do you want?!”

Sanji sighs, grabbing the cuffs one of the Cipher Pol agents left behind. He kneels to begin cutting at the ropes keeping the tarp in place. His hands still feel further away than they should while he works, but the haziness around him has begun to recede. He didn't sink too far before Lucci left. Franky has the decency not to comment on the unsteady grip on the knife or the collar resting on the plush carpet beside them.

Sanji flashes the cuffs at him once the large man stands up and Franky groans. He allows them to be put on though. Franky makes a show of dusting himself off, heedless of his limited mobility while heading deeper into the carriage. The seats at the very front of the passenger car face the ones directly behind them. They are meant for large groups who want to talk to each other while they travel. Franky plops himself down on the seat that would be facing Nico Robin if they were sitting in the same aisle. He has to turn his entire head to talk to her, “So you're Nico Robin the woman with a multi-million berry bounty since she was eight.”

Sanji walks over to Nico Robin. None of the easy confidence the woman moved with yesterday remains in her frame, eyes placid and shoulders caved towards the floor. Sanji thinks of a mouse trap snapping closed. She lifts her arms and lets him slip the sea stone cuffs on without complaint.

“The wanted poster says you sunk a Marine fleet as a little girl, but I don't know if I gel with that theory,” Franky states, unconcerned about not getting a reply earlier. His voice steels at the mention of the mayor, “Iceberg thought you knew something about the ancient weapon and the government's been trying to pin you down for 20 years. Why agree to work with them now and kill that Ice-for-brains?”

Robin's lips flatten, glancing at him, “I want nothing to do with the ancient weapon, Pluton.”

Sanji settles down on the seat two rows behind her. He thinks that's all she's going to say on the matter then she asks Franky if he knows what Ponyglyphs are. The crime boss stares at her.

“They're large steles inscribed with historical knowledge. They're said to contain the true history of the world, including that of the lost century. The Ponyglyphs also reveal how to revive the ancient weapon, but I am only interested in studying the history inscribed on them. I want to understand it.” she explains, face blank.

Sanji frowns, vague memories of the researchers and scientists around him discussing the topic flitting through his head, “It's illegal to do research into the void century.”

Robin regards him over her shoulder. Right. Being able to read Ponyglyphs and thus capable of researching the void century is most likely part of the reason why the government was after her in the first place. Sanji shifts and Robin faces forward again.

“My life has been warped by the World Government for almost as long as I can remember. When I came to Water-7, CP-9 presented me with two conditions. The first was to pin the assassination of Iceberg on the Straw Hat pirates and leave the crew, the second was to turn myself over to the government and follow their every order without question.”

“That doesn't explain why you're working with them now.” Franky points out. The cuffs prevent him from crossing his arms, so he stretches his knees out to the side instead, “You realize they won't let you live.”

Sanji ignores the way Franky's eyes slide over to him as he says it.

“For the past 20 years I've been able to run away and survive no matter what the circumstances, but that's only because I had nothing to protect, I was willing to betray others and use them as a shield.” Robin's voice wavers before strengthening into something more forceful, “But not now—for the first time in all these years I can't do that.”

“The Straw Hats picked up the life I gave up on. Returned the heart I lost and continued the dreams that I no longer believed in. Even after all I've done,” Her breath stutters but no tears flow down her cheeks, “I've found friends who will still believe in me.”

Franky looks like he wants to lean over the aisle and put a comforting hand on Robin's head. Sanji gets the sense that despite being the face of the underworld in Water-7, the man has a soft heart. The previous steel Franky spoke with softens, “When I was fighting that Straw Hat he seemed kinda strong. Maybe you should trust in the strength of your friends a little too?”

Robin shakes her head. The sea train's engine system completes several executions to move them along the tracks before she speaks again, “Admiral Aokiji gave CP-9 permission to activate a buster call against the Straw Hats.”

Franky frowns at him. Sanji has no idea what she's talking about. He wasn't exactly a priority when it came to sharing information that didn't involve the assignment directly.

“It's an emergency order that summons five vice admirals and ten battleships to the same location.” she clarifies at their confused silence. She stares at something in the distance without seeing anything, voice hollow in a way that's familiar to Sanji, “No matter how strong you are no one can survive a full-scale military attack of that caliber.”

She shrugs coming back into herself to stare at the passing ocean instead, “So, I surrendered. If I hadn't me and the rest of the straw hats would have been annihilated”

Sanji thinks of a burning ship and smoke cloying down in his throat as he leans forward to ask, “What was the wish you mentioned back in Iceberg's room?”

“That excluding me, all the other Straw Hat pirates will be allowed to leave Water-7 safely. As long as I have that I don't care what happens to the rest of the world.”

The train carriage settles into an uneasy silence. Sanji leans back against his seat, fingers trailing over the metal collar in his hand. When Spandam first agreed to let Sanji join Cipher Pol, he spent months doing intensive training. He had to catch up with agents who trained almost their entire lives to become assassins. The bitter irony was not lost on him. A lot of things about working for the World Government reminded him of the life Germa was preparing him for before he escaped. The training he received as a child worked as the foundation for the ones he later built to become an assassin. Reiju's final words to him rip through his mind, quick and painful, “The ocean is wide. You'll definitely meet kind people someday!”

Seems like Robin met those people. The circumstances that led her into working for the World Government is similar to his. The difference is, she still has a chance to protect the kind people who took her in, Sanji can only avenge his.

A nail catches on the edge of the explosive collar. Zeff told him once during a rare moment of vulnerable contemplation for the salty captain that he shares the same dream of finding the All Blue. He said that he'd lost the fire to continue searching for the mythical sea but Sanji made something of the old spark return that day on the East Blue dock. Sanji was so sure they'd find the All Blue together out here in the Grand Line.

Then they got raided by a Vice Admiral from the North Blue who happened to have too much knowledge on the former members of MADS. The Vice Admiral instantly recognized the dead third prince of Germa. Apparently, his sister and brothers' debut happened over a year prior on a tiny island in the North Blue. Judge sent them out to show the full force of Germa's might and the little kingdom inhabiting the island fell to its knees within days. Rumors cropped up about the uncanny strength and abilities of Judge's offspring. They only got worse as time passed and his siblings participated in more and more conflicts.

The Vice Admiral ordered the immediate execution of every Cook Pirate except Sanji. When it was all over, and the Cooking George nothing but ash, the Vice Admiral shipped him off to a research institute owned by the World Government. He can't remember the reactions of the people around him the first time they managed to activate the elements in his blood. The memory too saturated in pain and fear. Only a vague sense of leather pinned across his torso and biting metal against his back remains alongside the memory of blinding pain coursing through his veins. Unfortunately for them, it was only temporary. The frustrated team of scientists eventually admitted his body could never be fixed fully. A failure. It also didn't help that he never developed an exoskeleton like his siblings. They took his blood, spinal fluid, and anything else they thought necessary to try and replicate the manipulated lineage factor in something less broken and locked him away somewhere he wasn't in the way. He shies away from the memories of lab coats and metal tools, hunching his legs up on the seat he's sitting on.

“You act tough but you got a heart in there like anyone else.” Franky's voice pulls him out of his thoughts and the scent-memory of disinfectant and steel dissipates before they can overwhelm him. Sanji looks up to see Franky speaking to Robin,

“The government's got exactly what they want. The only woman with the know-how to bring back an ancient weapon and the man with the only known blueprints for one.”

“If the government gets that power everything's gonna get turned upside down. First, they'll end the pirate era. We won't be able to fight back anymore and after they're done with us just wait. They'll turn their guns on the rest of the world. I'm telling you those ancient weapons are gonna lead all mankind to ruin”

Robin twitches, hands balling into fists in her lap. The only sign she's heard him.

“My master didn't lay down his life protecting those blueprints for nothing.” Franky seethes, the most anger he's shown since boarding the sea train. His brow furrows and his chin pulls up high, “Not if I have anything to say about it at least.”

Sanji presses the flat of his knife against the crime boss' throat, voice deadly calm, “Watch it.”

Franky's head jerks back in surprise. Sanji is leaning over the seat next to him, hair curling around the edges of his mask. Neither person saw him move.

“But still,” the crime boss goes on, the tip of Sanji's knife a steady presence at his throat. Flecks of dried blood flake off the hand holding the knife. Franky meets the plain whites of his mask head-on, deliberately relaxing into the seat he's on “There's no point in me making it out of here alone. You gotta find some way to get back to Straw Hat, all right.”

“I can't. If I'm with them, it will only bring them suffering.” Robin replies carefully. She watches the exchange from the other side of the passenger car, brows furrowed.

“You're not the one that's hurting them. Those government bastards may tell you that your existence is a crime, but no matter how dangerous you may be. Just being alive, just being who you are is never wrong.” Franky's eyes glance down at Sanji's neck as he says it and Sanji pulls back, knees knocking against the seat behind him. Franky's voice is steady and confident in the quiet of the passenger car, “What you do is your choice, but there's no right or wrong in who you are.”

Chapter Text

Sanji leans against the pillar behind him, savoring the first pull from his cigarette. The nicotine chases the exhaustion to the edges of his consciousness, and some of the weight lifts off his limbs. Spending two days running around almost non-stop has left him drained in the perpetual sunlight of Enies Lobby. Smoke swirls around the light streaming in from the large window on his right. Somewhere behind him, he can hear chains clinking every time Franky shifts on his feet. They wrapped him in more chains as a safety measure while Robin still only wears the sea stone cuffs Sanji placed on her earlier.

He had ducked behind the nearest pillar when the large wooden doors to Spandam's office clicked closed, shutting the other CP-9 agents inside—a faint knot of worry burrowing into the pit of his stomach. No one bothered to lock the collar back in place when they arrived, but that could change depending on how the meeting goes.

Those ancient weapons are gonna lead all of mankind to ruin

The heavy weight of cigarette smoke coils around the tightness in his lungs, blending with the conflicted feelings brewing there. It's been five years since the World Government first sunk its claws into his skin, dragging him into their twisted world of politics. He knows how far they're willing to go for the sake of justice. Iceberg and Franky's fear of what could happen if the ancient weapon gets built isn't as far-fetched as Sanji would like.

“Hey, blondie!” Sanji tilts his head, indicating he's heard the crime boss. The tip of his cigarette burns a bright orange when he inhales, waiting to hear what Franky has to say. Franky must be looking at what he can see of the back of his head because he continues, “I'm not in the orbit on everything happening within Cipher Pol, but that metal you were rocking earlier doesn't seem like part of the usual uniform.”

Sanji exhales harshly through his nose. The more potent taste of tobacco passing through his sinuses helps distract from the urge to rub against the sensitive skin of his neck.

“It's got explosives, right? For a second, that Pigeon-guy looked like he was gonna let them blow.”, Franky adds. There's the sound of chains clinking together somewhere behind his left, so Sanji angles his head more towards the window.

“You've never had a shitty boss before?” he drawls, ashing the cigarette on the windowsill. He lifts a heavy limb, taking another deep drag before answering around a cloud of smoke, “Lucky you.”

“Yeesh, kid.” Franky sighs. Silence settles over the hallway, like the crime boss is considering his next words. Although they're no less harsh for it when he eventually asks, “You're happy to let the government yank your chain even if it means you die?”

Sanji turns the mask in his hand around to face him. The familiar feeling of muffled emotions just out of reach swirls around his body, heart thumping dully in his chest. It's not like he plans to live the remainder of his life chained to the World Government. Joining Cipher Pol was about more than just escaping the lab. The path leading to his grave was carved into his mind a long time ago. He shrugs. If he were to die before then, his only regret would be not avenging the Cook Pirates before kicking it. Franky mutters words, too low for Sanji to hear, but he guesses are probably rude.

“If you're with the World Government because you don't have a choice, fine. Helping them build Pluton and kill thousands of people in a blink of an eye because you're a gloomy bastard who doesn't care about his own life is bullshit."

The tips of Sanji's fingers whiten against the flat of his mask. For a second, the material frosts over, the ceramic plains morphing into hard steel. Sora Vinsmoke gave her life because she didn't want her children to become monsters bred only for war. Guilt wades through the swirl of distant emotions, crawling up his spine to nest at the top of his throat. He draws on the dwindling cigarette pinched between his lips, attempting to force the bitter feeling back down.

How far is he willing to go for the sake of his own justice?

“Word from the bird, you've got the royal shaft of it, brother.”

The confusing mess of words nearly makes him turn around to stare at the crime boss before he remembers the mask still clenched in his hand. Sanji stubs out his spent cigarette, retying the strings. His voice is toneless when he approaches the two prisoners, “If that was supposed to be some insightful philosophy, you might want to try making some sense first, old man.”

Franky rolls his eyes, groaning about new gens like a geezer. Sudden laughter startles them both. Robin buries her face in a shoulder, trying to smother the sound, but it's pointless. They continue to tumble out from between hitched breaths and soft leather. Her voice is a low murmur, “It's a bit of an old phrase.”

The crime boss rolls with it, unwilling to let the moment pass. It's the first time since boarding the Puffing Tom, either of them has seen a glimpse of Robin through the resigned defeat that's swallowed her whole, “Hey, are you implying a super guy like me is out of style-?!”

Sanji eyes the swoop of blue hair, “If the shitty hair pomade fits.”

“-Also, I'm only thirty-four!”

Muffled yelling rises up from behind the closed office doors. A second later, Lucci and Hattori stand in the doorway. The CP-9 agent has his head turned to the side, addressing Kaku behind him, “Don't pay any heed to the yapping of that mangy dog.”

Jabra's bark of screw you cat bastard rolls over the two agents to spill out into the hallway. Robin retreats back into herself the moment the doors swing open. They're waved inside and a large ball of mass barrels into Sanji, knocking him off his feet. His teeth clack audibly against each other as the back of his head connects painfully with the tiles. The doors rattle loudly behind him.

“You were supposed to kick me—chapapa!” Fukurou's distinctive accent whines from the direction of the doors. The large yellow zipper of his mouth pulls down into a frown, “I need to rank you!”

Sanji peels himself off the floor, scrubbing a hand down the back of his head, “Screw that!”

“Everyone's rankings increased, Kaku is now ranked second!”

“Like I care!”

Lucci guides Franky and Robin deeper into the room and towards the large, ornate desk at the back of the room. Sanji stands intending to follow them, but Fukurou's ball-like frame moves deceptively fast to block him off. The muscles in Sanji's legs tense in anticipation. All around them, the full force of Cipher Pol-9 idles, content to ignore the stand-off. Two rows of chairs form the borders of an aisle leading straight to Spandam's desk. The chief of Cipher Pol-9 stands in front of it, face twisted around the leather braces of his mask. Lucci sits down with Jabra, Kalifa, and Kumadori on one side of the aisle while Kaku and Blueno occupy the chairs opposite. There's an empty seat between the long-nose and the former bartender, presumably meant for Fukurou.

“It's so unfortunate that the rest of the world won't know what a glorious accomplishment CP-9 achieved today,” Spandam exclaims. He saunters up close to the crime boss, voice dropping low into a condescending hum, “You know if everyone just gave us what we ask for obediently and without question, we wouldn't need to go to such extreme measures like we had to with poor Tom.”

Fukurou chooses that moment to rush forward, and Sanji tucks his legs in close, flipping over the charging agent. Sending the guy flying would only give him what he wants. Panicked shrieking grates across his eardrums, and the two agents turn to see Franky's jaw clenched around the chief's head. His panicked, paling face focuses on Sanji, “Don't just stand there, help me!”

Fukurou backs off while Sanji drives his heel into the back of Franky's head. The chief's head pops out, and both men collapse to their knees. Franky shakes his head, moving to stand, but Spandam's there before he can, a heavy foot coming down against the other man's shoulder. Again and again. He crumbles to the floor. Spandam's screaming nearly drowns out the sound of bruising flesh. Sanji doesn't bother to follow the thread of conversation happening in the room. The chief's hatred for Cutty Flam and the shipwrights of Water-7 is a well-known fact around Cipher Pol offices by now. Through the windows of the office, Sanji spots smoke rising over the distant horizon of Enies Lobby. A distinctively sharp sound echoes through the room, dragging his attention back. Robin lies on the floor, a bright red mark that will deepen into a dark bruise later blooming across one side of her face. Spandam still has his arm raised, words dripping from his mouth in a condescending sneer like thick greasy oil, “What gives you the right to question me, insolent witch, you should be thanking me!”

The whites of his eyes widen in gleeful mirth, “I'm going to bleed you dry and cleanse this world of Ohara's legacy. From this moment on, you're going to suffer pain so excruciatingly agonizing, you'll wake up every morning wishing you were dead!”

Instinctive anger boils within Sanji's core, and he takes a deep breath trying to dampen it. Robin lies rooted in place, staring through black strands of her hair at the towering man edging closer towards her. The cadence of Spandam's voice slows down to a sinister crawl, each word emphasized as it drips from his twisted lips, “I'm going to hurt you, and use you—then throw you out at sea!”

He informs the room of Straw Hat's presence on the island and his intentions to have the pirates arrested or killed. When Robin vents her frustrations, Lucci reminds her their deal was only valid within the borders of Water-7. Sanji watches Franky's disparaging remarks about the integrity of CP-9 sink into the chief's pale skin, ripping and tearing into his fragile ego and paper-thin temper. Kicks rain down against the crime boss's back until suddenly Spandam turns his wrath on Robin. She buckles under the first few hits. Shrill screaming follows each blow, but Sanji can't hear it past the blood rushing through his ears. The apathy under his skin slips between his fingers, water-thin and melted. Without thinking, he steps forward. Spandam whips towards him, foot following the path of his gaze, “Don't get cocky with me!”

Sanji freezes, and the first hit makes his thigh spasm.

“Capturing and deceiving pirates is what the Marines do, you agreed to this the moment you begged me to save your pathetic life!", The second hit forces him back a step, shoulders hunched over the pain in his stomach. A cold bucket of ice washes over the heat building under his skin, temper sputtering out as quickly as it sparked. His neck stings in the open air, reddened and raw from rubbing against metal for so long, and Sanji's reminded of Spandam and Lucci's smug arrogance as they tossed away the terms of CP-9's deal with Robin. A small ember of his temper remains burning. Eventually, Spandam runs out of energy. He straightens the creases in his shirt and vest, panting, “That's enough for now. Get Nico Robin ready to be shipped out to Navy headquarters and Cutty Flam to Impel Down.”

Nameless guards stream in from the door. They haul Nico Robin and Franky to their feet. The crime boss snaps at the hands reaching for him, shifting around in his chains. Blood drips down from a cut on his head as they are ushered back out of the room.

“Oh, and Nico Robin?” Spandam calls, unable to resist twisting the knife one final time, “Look on the bright side, at least your friends will suffer and die with you!"

The doors click shut. Sanji moves around the edges of the room, careful to keep out of Spandam's way. Lucci glances at him from the corner of his eye when he passes by his chair, “That better have been your foolish chivalry earlier and nothing treasonous.”

Sanji shrugs, feigning indifference. Blueno and Fukurou bend their heads together on the chairs across from them. He catches the word Straw Hat before the former bartender excuses himself from the room. The chief barely acknowledges his departure, too caught up in the euphoric high of his ambitions.

“I'd like to propose a toast!” Spandam exclaims, disappearing behind his desk, “With the accomplishment of this mission, CP-9's status will rise to incredible heights!”

“I'm not in the mood for your ridiculous toast,” Lucci drawls, crossing his legs. His chin tucks low to his chest, “Nor am I interested in growing our status or political influence.”

“Then what is it you want exactly?” Spandam peers over the edge of his desk, some of the euphoria dimming into a nervous twitch of his brow. In the long shadows of the office, twin sets of lenses reflect the midday sun streaming in from the windows. Lucci and Jabra's twin answers rumble through the room: blood. Spandam clears his throat, a shaky hand smoothing through his hair, “At any rate, there's one more thing I have for you.”

A chest thumps against the surface of the desk. It's a simple design of dark wood, with swirls and lines etched across its surface in an intricate pattern. Dark energy emits from the box, which only worsens once the latches click open. Nestled inside the chest's plush interior are three devil-fruits. Sanji once read a book about devil-fruits back in the North Blue. The book stated that devils live inside the fruits, and by eating one, a person makes a deal with them in exchange for their power. He's never really considered the truth behind the statement, considering how much time he's spent around devil-fruit users, but standing near the fruits now makes his skin crawl.

Jabra whistles impressed, “How'd you manage to pull three of these, chief?”

“Let's just say I have connections.” Spandam answers, obviously pleased with the praise, “We don't know what kind of devils reside in these fruits, but one thing is for certain. Eating them will allow CP-9 to grow stronger and stronger!”

The first two devil-fruits are passed to Kaku and Kalifa, who sit down together on a nearby couch. Sanji perches on the armrest next to them, staring down at the fruits laid out in front of them. A shadow falls across his vision, and he turns to see Spandam standing in front of him, the final, devil-fruit still nestled inside the box. Sanji doesn't reach for the fruit.

“Oh, come now,” Spandam scoffs, thrusting the chest towards him, “Just because we don't know what power resides in these fruits doesn't mean they won't be an asset to CP-9!”

Kaku and Kalifa cut into the devil-fruits in front of them, revealing their bright green flesh. The agents grimace at the bitter taste, but have no qualms about being made to eat them. Sanji focuses on the wall over Spandam's shoulder, heart beating faster in his chest, “I'd prefer not to.”

Spandam pauses. His shoulders start to shake, and Sanji stiffens, fighting the urge to edge away. Loud cackling bursts out of the chief's mouth, “You sounded so serious, too! Clearly, you've spent far too much time running around the streets of Water-7 if you think you have an opinion on this matter!" The leather scent of Spandam's mask filters past the edges of Sanji's own, words hissing against ceramic, "Don't forget, you are my asset to use as I please."

A hot brand of self-loathing snakes through his veins, a shiver of fear on its heels. He breathes evenly through the phantom sensation of it constricting his chest, letting the familiar feeling of numbness settle over him more securely. He doesn't have a choice. Never did when it came to changes made to his person. Except for a few precious years that haunt his memories more and more recently. His heart slows down to a sluggish beat.

"Thousands have gone searching for this power and most end up empty-handed or dead," Lucci adds. The ice in his drink pings against the glass when he shifts to lounge in his armchair, "Just eat it already."

Sanji lifts heavy limbs to unfasten the ties hidden at the back of his head, but a loud explosion goes off outside before he can.

———

It turns out Franky is something a little less than human. In an impressive show of force, he propels himself and Robin through the wall, crashing against the half wall of the balcony outside. In the rubble and dust, Sanji sees the chains previously used to restrain the crime boss puddled uselessly on the balcony tiles. Robin is already standing up on her feet, gaze focused on something over the edge of the half wall. The faint sound of Luffy's cheerful voice filters up towards them. Grief and fear still mar her skin, saturating her words as she rejects his help.

“We went through a lot of trouble to get here,” Luffy rebuffs, one hand coming up to pick at his nose. The casual display of confidence grates at Spandam. It shows in the way the skin around his eyes tightens, “Plus we're already here, so we're gonna go ahead and save you!”

Sanji follows Spandam and the rest of CP-9 through the hole. The chest sits forgotten inside the office along with the third devil-fruit. Sanji breathes a bit easier once outside. The entire Straw Hat crew dots the surface of the roof below. A large man-like creature occupies the raised point to Luffy's left, a familiar pink hat resting on top of his head, while Nami and the swordsman stand on his right on top of their own raised point. The zipper of Zoro's bright yellow shirt hangs uselessly by his side, revealing a large scar torn across his torso, from shoulder to hip. A figure in a bright, sunny mask stands next to Luffy. Sanji tilts his head at the very distinctive nose poking through the hole in the mask. The fight back in Water-7 must have been resolved for Usopp to be standing here among his crew. Although he has no idea what the mask is about. The agents of CP-9 form their own line on top of the balcony's half wall. Kaku raises a brow when Sanji heads towards a dazed Franky instead of joining them, but doesn't protest.

“I just want to die!” Robin screams, spine curling under the intensity of her grief.

Luffy opens his mouth, ready to yell back. He hesitates, dark eyes flicking over towards Sanji. The memory of their argument outside the Franky House flits through Sanji's mind, and the young captain's brow tightens, “Fine, if you want to die, you can do it as a member of our crew after we're all back together!”

Jabra wearily eyes the roaring falls below them when the chief leaps on top of the half wall himself, passionately exclaiming his disbelief in the pirates' ability to beat Cipher Pol. The Straw Hats share a glance between themselves and the cluster of CP-9 agents. Zoro smirks, a relaxed hand flexing over the hilt of his swords. Beads of sweat trickle down the chief's face. He digs through the pockets of his suit, producing a small round object. Spandam thrusts it in the air like a trump card, and the sun catches on the golden surface of a snail transponder, “Don't forget, I still have the authority to make a buster call—a military power Nico Robin witnessed first-hand destroy everything in her homeland twenty years ago!”

Robin flinches like she's been struck, knees buckling under her, “Please don't, I did what you asked!”

“Oh, begging for mercy, I do like that.”

Dread trickles down Sanji's arms—pooling and hardening into a heavy stone that sluggishly rolls around his stomach. A hot flash of shame shoots up the trails left behind. He's unsure of what caused the sudden onslaught of disorientating emotions till it's a younger version of him caving under the oppressive sneer of the Cipher Pol chief. Cold tile bites through the thin material of his scrubs, kneeled without a scrap of pride curled under the colorless pallor of his skin as he begs to be taken away and made useful elsewhere, the last of a childlike voice yet to give way under the deeper tone of puberty still clinging to his words. He presses a hand against the mask on his face, palm scraping over the hard edges. His fingers twitch towards the blonde strands curled under his ear, but he drags his arm back down, focusing on the scene in front of him. The tips of his fingers don't catch on the metal edges of a collar.

“This isn't a joke!” Robin's shoulders pull forward, trembling in the midday sun, “There's a limit to how many lives you can sacrifice in the name of justice. If you trigger a buster call, everything will be destroyed. Enies Lobby and everyone here will be wiped from the map completely!”

Spandam scoffs, false arrogance blinding his vision. Gloved fingertips twitch over the button of the transponder, “They won't kill important people like me.”

But Robin isn't listening to him. Blue eyes stare at the floor without seeing anything. “With one push of a button, a terrible demon was summoned that day. It took everything away from me, many innocent lives were lost.”

“Now you want to let it rear its head again,” raising her head, she searches for the faces of her friends, “-and aim it towards the friends I've searched so hard to find.”

She directs her next words down to them, “It doesn't matter how far we sail, there's an enemy that haunts me at every turn. First, it was Aokiji, and now CP-9. I can't keep dragging you into my troubles like this!”

Luffy tries to say something, but she doesn't give him the chance to interrupt her, “It won't matter how kind you may be, someday you will see me as a burden, you'll betray me and throw me away!” her last words come out a desperate plea for them to understand, “I'd rather die than face that future, that's what I'm most afraid of!”

Spandam cackles, pointing straight up to the roof, “Look at this flag! It represents the unity of over one hundred and seventy nations, a power that spans the four seas and the Grand Line. You can't possibly stand up to an enemy that strong!”

Luffy disappears under the brim of his hat, voice a plain command that easily cuts through the cackling, “Sogeking.”

“Got it,” Usopp replies. Sanji watches curiously as the masked sniper steps forward, aiming a long green slingshot up towards the World Government's flag. There's the snap of leather, and a large flame shoots forward, flaring into the bright form of a hissing phoenix. Spandam cries incoherently, and even the Cipher Pol agents shift on their feet. A weak flicker of excitement bubbles up through Sanji's chest at the Straw Hats' brazen display of carelessness. The World Government's flag lights up like dried kindling, “Mission complete.”

“Robin!” Luffy announces, fists tightened by his side. He takes a large breath through his nose, “There's still something I want to hear you say!”

Robin gasps. The burning flag crackling above them dissipates the grief and sorrow staining her skin, the light of the flames catching in her eyes, “...I can live?”

Franky's lips pull up into a proud smirk when she gracefully steadies herself back onto her feet, squaring her shoulders. Her final declaration tears across the gaping divide between the two buildings, “I want to live!”

A loud creak shudders through the air. The drawbridge connecting the two buildings begins to lower. Even from this far away, Sanji can hear Nami's comment on the scary expression spreading across Zoro's face.

“Robin, we're coming to save you!” Luffy promises, and Robin mirrors the bright smiles of her crew.

“Hey Spanda,” Franky calls. Sanji didn't notice the crime boss move till he was standing some distance away. A stack of yellowed papers dangle in the air above him. The word Pluton printed across the first page. Spandam stiffens, hands twitching to reach out. The crime boss flips through the stacks of paper, “Sanji, you were a shipwright, you can tell they're real.”

Well, he can tell the papers' old at least.

“Nico Robin,” Franky says her full name. For once, it doesn't sound like a curse spat at her feet. “I gotta admit, the rumors I heard about you were about as wrong as they could be. While the government was dragging us to this crap hole, I realized that you aren't the monster that's gonna use the ancient technology for evil.”

“The shipwrights of Water-7 have been handing down these blueprints from generation to generation as a countermeasure in case some power-hungry dumbass like Spanda happened to get their hands on the ancient weapon.”, He winks at her, “But I'm making a bet.”

Fire roars from the crime boss's mouth, consuming the paper. Sanji really wants to find out what exactly Franky's deal is that allows him to do these things. The papers burn bright and fast, disappearing into ash right before their eyes. Kalifa sighs, bemoaning the five years they spent trying to get them only for this to be the outcome.

“I've placed my bet.” Franky states when it's all over, “The Straw Hats will be able to prevent you from taking Robin through the Gates of Justice, I'm sure of it, which means we don't need a countermeasure.”

The proud cheers of the Franky Family further down below draw their attention. Franky leans over the half-wall, eyes misty and wet. Sanji takes the opportunity. His foot connects with the hard muscle of Franky's back, and the crime boss flips over the edge—disappearing down towards the roaring waters below. He's making his own bet. In the distance, a loud whistle blows through the air. Luffy grins, meeting the eyes of Sanji's mask, “I'm not done with you either!”

Rubber hands wrap around his crew. They all scream as they unwillingly follow Franky over the edge. Spandam snaps at them all to get a move on, dragging Robin back through the hole in the wall. Sanji's sent off with the rest of the CP-9 agents to take care of the Straw Hats while Lucci escorts Spandam and Robin to the docks.

———

Sanji bides his time in the sizeable, ornate bathroom with Kalifa. The large four-poster bath makes up most of the center of the room. The green tiling adorned along its sides clashes with the bright pink painted walls around them. It's not long till one of the Straw Hats bursts through the door looking for the key to the cuffs in Kalifa's pocket. Nami stands in the doorway. The brown cardigan of her cropped top barely does anything to cover much of her skin. But neither does the white skirt she's wearing.

“You're just in time.” Kalifa hums. It's a parody of the scene on the balcony two days ago. She lounges back in the wire frame of the chair while Sanji prepares two cups of black tea, “Your other crew member has already had the pleasure of trying Sanji's expertly brewed tea.”

Nami stops short of entering, face falling into an unimpressed line, “What the hell?”

Steam curls up from the cups, dissipating the further up it travels. The delicate ceramic clinks together as he places one cup in front of Kalifa and the other near the vacant chair on the opposite side of the round table. Sanji walks over to perch on the edge of the large tub, leaning over to open the taps. He stretches his fingers under the flow of the faucet to test the temperature. More steam begins to spill over the edges of the tub.

“You want to have tea and take a bath at a time like this?” Nami scoffs. Sanji feels her narrow gaze settle on him, “Well, I guess you've got guts.”

Kalifa's laughter bounces around the tiles of the room, fingers splayed across the lower half of her face, “He's not staying if that's what you're so flustered about.”

“As if!”

The bath continues to fill with water. He tips a jar of oil into the water, the scent of roses starting to mingle with the smell of brewed tea. Nami tightens her hold on the strange blue weapon in her hands, annoyed at being taken lightly, “If you think I'm just a pretty face, you're in for a world of hurt.”

“We've gone from sweet talk to petty threats, have we?”

Sanji closes the taps, straightening back up, “That's my cue to leave. Excuse me, ladies,”

He heads over to the door, neatly waving Nami further into the room so he can step out. Kalifa's voice sighs through the door before it shuts, trapping the two women inside. “I suppose tea time is over then. If you want the key, then take it.”

Sanji follows the sound of fighting up the stairs. Once inside the Zen garden, he hunkers down on top of a large rock, digging through his pockets. The shiny glint of metal swinging between cuffed wrists catches his eye when Zoro and Usopp sprint past him on the ground below.

“What, all those swords and the tough swordsman can't even cut through a set of cuffs?” he taunts, cigarette spinning across his fingers. A sunny mask whips around at the sound of his voice. He watches Usopp stumble over some debris. The abrupt fall yanks on the swordsman's wrist, nearly dragging him down with him. Zoro wraps an arm around his friend, jumping them both out of the way right before a large wolf-like creature thumps down where they just were, sharp claws raking across empty air.

“You were supposed to be with Kalifa,” Jabra growls, the muzzle of his mouth pulling back to reveal sharp teeth. His wolf-hybrid form grants him extra height over the Straw Hat pirates, but he's still dwarfed by Kaku's giraffe-hybrid form nearby. The square long-nose agent has to bend his large, powerful neck in order to see the field.

Sanji shrugs, “Nami, one of the lady Straw Hats, showed up to fight Kalifa.”

Something heavy burns across his shoulders, and Sanji turns his head to see steely eyes focused on him. Quiet anger flickers through the grey. The sharp metal of Zoro's second sword being drawn rings through the air, raising the hairs on Sanji's arms. His mouth pulls up into a wide, answering smirk hidden beneath his mask.

"While your chivalrous spirit not to hurt women is commendable, it has no place within CP-9." Kaku's reprimand cuts through the protective anger tightened across Zoro's face, and Usopp heaves a relieved sigh. They must have thought that his being here meant their friend had been defeated. Disappointment replaces the rush of adrenaline through Sanji's veins. He settles back down on the rock, watching the spark of an idea cross the swordsman's face. Zoro yanks Usopp closer by his collar, lips pulled up into a sharp grin. A second later, the masked long-nose is held aloft by the front of his shirt—Zoro's second sword trembling between his hands.

“Hold that posture, Sogeking,” Zoro directs. The sound of whimpering increases when Usopp's thrusted higher up into the air, “You're now a sword—the great blade, Nose storm.”

An amused breath puffs out past Sanji's mask. He might have once felt an inkling of impressed attraction watching the swordman fight back at the Franky House, but that greatly diminishes watching him swing Usopp around like a makeshift sword. Jabra howls with laughter, almost getting skewered by Nose storm. The sound of Usopp's nose re-breaking cracks through the room, and Zoro pulls back.

“Guess we're back to the rock, paper, scissors plan,” Zoro states, gaze narrowing into a scowl, “Better to lose a hand than to lose a fight.”

“No!” Usopp wails drawn out and high-pitched. The wolf-hybrid's ears flatten, claws pawing at his head, “Chopper—where the hell are you, save me already!”

A loud bang startles everyone in the room. A series of cracks forms above the Straw Hats' heads, jagged edges widening and splintering across the wall. The stonework crumbles like dried rice paper. A monstrous muzzle pushes through the cracks, teeth wider than Kaku's giraffe-hybrid form gleaming in the artificial light of the garden. Large blackened fingers rake through the soil, displacing trees as the creature leverages itself into the room. The monster bellows, shaking the walls around them.

“How many of these Zoan type power holders have they got on this damn island?!” Zoro yells, twisting around to watch the monster straighten to its full height. Antlers scrape against the ceiling, showering paint chips down on them.

Sanji lands close by, “That's not one of ours.”

“Wait,” Usopp hedges, hands flexing around the sword still gripped in his hand, “He looks kind of familiar for some reason.”

The beast shakes its head, nearly dislodging the pink hat on top of its head. Zoro and Usopp call out to their reindeer companion, but the thing shows no signs of recognition. They're forced to retreat further away from the wall when the beast tries to crush them under one large hand.

Zoro shifts on his feet, gaze focused towards the creature, “Something's not right!”

“You mean this isn't normal for him?” Sanji questions, dodging a piece of debris flung his way.

“He looks like he's the one about to keel over and die!”

“Step aside, you guys!” A new voice shouts through the hole the creature climbed in from. Franky aims a hand cannon at Chopper, and Zoro takes a step towards him threateningly, “Don't worry, I know what I'm doing!”

A blast of concussive force knocks Chopper through the wall and down towards the sea below. The crime boss dives down after him. Nami appears in the aftermath of the explosion with a cheeky smile and a wink. A key dangles from one of her fingers. Sanji listens to her try and bargain a couple of berries out of the cuffed pair, before she quickly backs down when Zoro implies she can fight the two zoan users on her own then. By the time the air clears, all three Straw Hats are free to move as they please.

Kaku laughs, “You finally managed to free yourselves, huh?”

“You better stop laughing and start running, you blew your only chance to kill me.” Zoro drawls. The green-haired pirate carries himself with an air of quiet confidence which morphs into assured arrogance in the face of a proper challenge, “It's my turn and I'm taking you and the entire World Government down.”

Usopp and Nami cheer their friend on from behind a rock. Neither of them notice the wolf slinking closer. Muscles ripple under dark fur, strings of saliva stretching between jagged fangs. Jabra's jaw pulls wide over the back of their necks. Sanji's kick forces the agent back several paces. The other man growls, golden eyes singling in on him. Fury and a predator-like anticipation blazes through the gold. A dark voice rumbles up from the devil-fruit user's chest, hissing through sharpened teeth, “Oh, the little lamb wants to wander off from his flock...”

Behind him, Nami calls out in shock.

“Both of you, take a look outside,” Sanji instructs. There's the sound of shuffling feet followed by twin sets of gasps. Through the hole in the wall, the Gates of Justice bisect the skyline of Enies Lobby. An ominous crack running down its center that widens with each passing second, “If those gates open, you won't be able to follow your friend, you'll lose her forever.”

Somewhere in the distance, sirens start to wail—warning of an imminent buster call. Sanji knocks the tip of his shoe against the floor. A rhythmic tap-tap that centers his focus and allows him to sink into a calm detachment despite the anxiety thrumming through his veins, “Leave this guy's key to me.”

Jabra's tongue flicks over the sharp point of his canines. Annoyingly, neither pirate makes a move to get up. Nami leans forward, trying to catch his attention while still staying behind him, “I don't get it, why are you doing this now?!”

He thinks of a devil-fruit abandoned in an office nearby, an ancient weapon meant to kill thousands in the blink of an eye-and the bare feeling around his neck. Despite everything, he won't be Judge Vinsmoke's son. He'll figure out a different way to get what he wants.

“I'm going to stay here and do what you can't do.” Sanji answers, voice level. Taking on the entire force of CP-9 would have been impossible for him, even without the risk of getting his head blown off. Franky was right. The Straw Hats are strong, and he can use that to his advantage. He turns enough to look at them, “You need to do what I can't do.”

A sharp howl pierces through the air, and Jabra disappears from view. Sanji yells at them to get out of the garden, bringing up a leg to block the attack he knows will come from the right. His shin connects hard against the palms of Jabra's hands. He drives his other foot into the agent's chest, sending him flying. Sanji flips towards him, feigning a kick aimed at his head before pivoting to land behind him instead. He swoops the other man's legs out from under him. One last kick sends the wolf flying through the hole in the wall. Sanji spares a second to glance over towards where Zoro and Kaku are engaged in their own fight. The swordsman seems to be holding up his own against the devil-fruit user, so Sanji follows his opponent out into the hallway.

Jabra rises from the rubble, face pulled back into a furious snarl. The wolf lunges, and Sanji swings out a hand, using a furry shoulder to leverage himself up and over the other man's head. A series of kicks connect uselessly against Rokushiki hardened skin, and Sanji's forced to back off.

“If you want to get hurt that bad, I'll oblige you!” Jabra growls, lenses flaring inhumanely white in the dark shadows of the stairwell. The other agent uses Iron Body Kenpo to increase his speed, bouncing around faster than Sanji can keep track of. Sharp claws rake across his skin, and a heavy fist sinks into his ribs. Wind whips past his head as Sanji is sent flying across the open gap of the stairwell, crashing into the wall opposite. The impact sends a shock through his spine, white-hot sparks of pain locking his muscles into place. Sanji gasps, unable to dodge the series of bouncing Tempest kicks Jabra sends after him.

“I'm a wolf you dolt,” Jabra speaks up, suddenly much closer. A snarl creeps across his long muzzle, “I won't stop chasing you till I have your neck in my jaws.”

“You're telling me this like I care,” Sanji pants, forcing his body to move despite the aftershocks of pain travelling through his frame. A hand clenches over the deepest cut in his shoulder. His lips pull up into a slow curl of their own, blood dripping from behind the mask, “I'm not about to get killed either or help you destroy the world.”

“What, are you upset with the way CP-9 handles things?” Jabra laughs, “Lucci was right when he said you don't belong in Cipher Pol. Gettin' all emotional will only clutter up your mind.”

“Watch your mouth, you damn wolf.”

“You're nothing but empty threats. It's pretty obvious how badly injured you are,” Jabra lifts his head, nostrils flaring wide at the taste of iron in the air. A large pink tongue flicks across his chops, “I'll put you out of your misery.”

Sanji inhales, breathing in deeper. He pulls on the tempered fury buried deep within his core, yanking it out in increments until heat begins to build in his right foot. His leg burns red hot, the center turning a blinding white color until flames burst from his skin. Fear settles across the other man's face, and Sanji smirks. His voice flattens into smooth glass compared to the roaring flames, “Foot of the devil, it tends to burn hotter than the flames of hell.”

He kicks out. The smell of smoldering hair and burning flesh fills the hallway. The sickening feeling of bones beginning to soften and melt spreads out from under the weight of his foot, and Jabra jumps away. Sanji follows, his heart a steady beat in his chest. The long winding stairwell of the Tower of Law stretches out underneath them. Jabra uses shave to reappear in the air above Sanji, ten curled claws aimed towards his chest. Sanji kicks one hand away, allowing the other to sink into his chest. The winding stairs whip past their heads as they begin to fall. Sanji curls his fingers around the furry claw in his chest, “Gotcha.”

The flames of his foot connect with the wolf's head in one final blow. He twists his hips, sending the other agent crashing into the ground below. The floor explodes under the force. Dust and debris creating a thick blanket over everything. Sanji lets the momentum carry him, using the little bit of Rokushiki he knows to slow his descent. He lands on his feet, flames snuffing out. Jabra doesn't get back up again.

Well, guess he's placed his bet.

Chapter Text

“First the Marines had to help you out back in Alabasta, now a World Government assassin showed you the way to our escape ship?!”

“He didn't show me anything, witch” Zoro replies, glaring over at their navigator. Nami fists as much of her short orange-colored hair into her hands as she can, squeezing it. Water splatters down onto the deck of their newly commandeered escort ship while he does the same with his shirt, “Someone painted yellow arrows pointing the way.”

Nami smoothes her hair back down, tongue sticking out between crooked lips, “Then I should add bright paints to our budget. What we spend extra in berries, we'll save in time looking for you.”

“Uhm guys, I don't think he's breathing.” Usopp interrupts, pointing a bandaged finger over towards the body sprawled on the deck of the ship.

Zoro shrugs his shirt back on, glancing over to the CP-9 agent. Small pink-tinged rivulets swirl undisturbed in the water pooling underneath Sanji. Usopp's right, he's not breathing. The fight over who has to check for a pulse gets broken up by a distressed Chopper who saddles Zoro with the responsibility. He crouches down, pressing his fingers against the side of Sanji's neck, and feels a thrumming beat push back. The muscle under his hand tightens.

He blocks the knife arching towards his neck with an unimpressed scowl. Choked coughing bubbles up from behind the mask, Sanji's other hand coming up to smack wetly against the skin of his chest, shoving him out of the way. The blonde barely manages to roll over onto his knees before a wet splatter of seawater joins the rest on the floor. Zoro grimaces. The arm still gripped in his hand flexes and he tightens his hold instead of letting go. Sanji growls in between hitching coughs. His mask is tilted slightly to the side so he doesn't choke, blonde hair hanging like a curtain over his face, but Zoro still feels the way his limbs jerk with the need to shy away. The knife clatters to the floor and he lets go, shoving it far away from the assassin's reach.

“Welcome to the land of the living!” Kokoro crows. The dark red coat thrown over her shoulder sways with every cackle, threatening to expose her bare chest, “You're welcome by the way!”

Four sets of heads dripping with water bow in thanks. If the elderly stationmaster hadn't gotten them out of the underground tunnel, they would have drowned. Sanji waves a limp hand over his shoulder, still facing away from everyone. Zoro divides his attention between respecting his privacy now that he's at least partially disarmed and keeping an eye on him.

“Wait so mermaids really do exist ?” Usopp asks. He fiddles with the sunny mask in his hand, trying to wipe off most of the moisture, “I thought they would only be able to live in water.”

“I'm an Icefish mermaid,” Kokoro answers, carding a hand down her granddaughter's wet braid. The girl and the rabbit look completely unphased about almost dying earlier. Kokoro wiggles the pink fins sticking out of her pant legs, “When we mermaids get to be about 30 years old, our tail fin forks in two and we can walk on land like a regular old human. If you ever make it out to Fishman Island you'll see what I'm talking about.”

“Like what happens to a cat's tail if they live to be a hundred. They turn into goblins after that!”

“There's an old legend about a witch who fell in love with a captain and decided to sail the seas with him. Unfortunately, his crew thought she was bad luck to have on board and tried to drown her,” a familiar lilting voice pipes up from the other end of the ship. Robin smiles when they all notice her. Next to her, Franky has his forearms stretched over his head in an exaggerated pose. A chorus of voices shout her name and she hums pleasantly, “The witch summoned a huge storm to wreck the ship, but her heart filled with darkness tainted her magic. It's said that she turned into a four-eyed cat that still haunts the seas wrecking any ship she finds.”

The only thing preventing her from buckling under the combined weight of her friends throwing themselves at her is Franky's steadying hand on her back. Zoro relaxes. Something almost territorial rumbles deep in his chest, pleased at the sight of his friends gathered around their missing crew member. The feeling first uncoiled in the pit of his stomach the night of Usopp's fight with Luffy. He'd been furious with the sniper for issuing a duel against their captain over the Going Merry. It didn't matter who was right or wrong. At the same time, he'd spent months standing between the weaker members of the crew and whatever threat was in front of them while Luffy chased down the biggest one. That protective instinct already rooted deep in his core twisted around the dark feeling latching onto his growing anger. It condensed into a single thing, wrapping around his spine, pressing against his ribs, promising violence till he granted it freedom during his fight with Kaku. It's still there, a dark warmth inside his core. Asura. He'll have to meditate on it later. He's not worried. It's just another skill to train on his way to becoming the world's greatest swordsman.

“Robin, that was so creepy we missed you!” Chopper wails, trying to wiggle around in Nami's arms. Whatever the reindeer took to change into a giant monster back in the Tower of Law left him paralyzed in its aftermath.

Robin brushes a hand under the brim of his hat, scratching at the fur there, “I'm sorry for troubling you, doctor.”

“Oh, right” Usopp exclaims. He pulls away from Robin, “Are we going to address the giant CP-9-shaped elephant on the ship?”

They all turn to said CP-9 agent sitting on his ass facing them this time. He regards them blankly, blonde whisps of hair curling over the white edges of his mask as they dry.

“I'm the last person to complain about someone switching over to the winning side,” Nami replies with a shrug, "Thanks for helping out with Jabra."

Sanji's tone remains a monotonous drone, mirroring the detached slouch of his frame, “Franky's right. The World Government doesn't need access to a weapon like Pluton.”

“I knew you'd see the light, brother!”

“But aren't you a creepy assassin for said World Government. How does someone like you suddenly get a moral code against killing a ton of people?” Sanji's mask turns to Usopp and the sniper flusters, gesturing through the air, “Not that someone can't have a change of heart or come to their senses. Plenty of villain-turned-heroes do that in fact one time—”

“Usopp, enough” Zoro calls, standing up. He grabs the knife he shoved away earlier. The sharpened blade glints in the midday sun. It's balanced and high-quality. Sanji watches him approach, hands moving to press against the floor. The blonde's not telling them the whole truth but right now Marine battleships are closing in around them while they're still down a captain, "Same rules as before. If you go after any of my crew, I will cut you down.”

“That's the second time you've threatened me aloud without actually making a mark. I'm starting to think you're all bark and no bite, Mossy.”

Just then, a juvenile den-den mushi on its dying legs crackles to life somewhere above their heads. A distorted voice announces the presence of around fifty pirates and a pair of giants near the front gates of Enies Lobby. Usopp smiles over at the crime boss, “It's the Franky Family and the shipwrights from Galley-la!”

“—have been eliminated. All targets are presumed dead, and the number of survivors in Enies Lobby is zero. The only remaining target is the Bridge of Hesitation.”

A heavy drape of silence settles over the ship. Sanji levers himself up, grabbing the knife from Zoro's slackened grip. His voice doesn't rise from its toneless drawl, “They'll be here soon.”

A loud explosion shudders through the Bridge of Hesitation and smoke begins to rise from the other side. Zoro nods, dismissing the bitter feeling creeping up his throat. Together they sprint up the stairs leading to the top. Several pairs of feet follow behind them. Heat presses against his skin as soon as they crest over the last step along with the acrid scent of smoke. Enies Lobby burns in the distance. What's left of the Tower of Law crumbles in on itself, the exposed metal structures warping under the scorching heat of an inferno. Broken stone debris cracks over each other to disappear into the roaring waters below. It's hard to believe they stood on the same island not long ago. Part of the bridge, connecting them to the mainland is gone too and Zoro heads straight for the broken ledge.

“It's like a sea of flames out there,” Usopp breathes, the Sogeking mask back in place. He showed up wearing it when he and the rest of the Franky Family crashed through the old train warehouse. The disguise and elaborate story quickly fell apart during their long, boring train ride to Enies Lobby. The only highlight about being stuck together for that long is that Usopp managed to patch things up with the crew and apologize to Luffy properly.

Usopp keeps pace with him, while Sanji sprints a few steps ahead having passed Zoro on the stairs. As they near the jagged ledge, Sanji slows, dropping behind them. Through a gaping hole in the first support column below, Zoro catches sight of a bright red shirt and a familiar straw hat. Across from their captain stands Lucci, still in the same leopard-hybrid form they'd last seen in Iceberg’s office. Luffy's shoulders rise and fall with each labored breath, his body caving towards the floor like he's struggling to stay upright. Steam curls off his overheated skin. Zoro stops at the edge of the ledge, “Luffy!”

Dazed half-lidded eyes meet his. Worry is not something he's used to feeling during Luffy's fights. He trusts him, knows how strong the rubber teen is despite his lithe frame, but right now that same dark protective anger from before flares through his gut. His hands flex around empty air. Usopp grabs his shoulder for balance, leaning over the edge, “We're all here Luffy and we got Robin back!”

“Beat that guy already so we can get out of here!” Zoro adds. Luffy blinks, some of the dazed exhaustion clearing from his eyes. His chest heaves with one last deep inhale, breath settling into a steady rhythm. A determined smile edges over his lips and the feeling in Zoro's core snuffs out. They're all leaving here together. Long, dark shadows stretch across the bridge and he turns to see Marine battleships boxing them in from every side.

“We've identified eight pirates on the Bridge of Hesitation including pirate hunter Zoro and Nico Robin. We believe these are the culprits who defeated CP-9 in the Tower of Law!”

Zoro stops drawing his swords, wait eight?

Usopp's panicked question gives him the answer a second later, "Hold on, where did Sanji go?"

“Of course, he chooses now to run away,” Zoro growls, aiming the irritation bristling under his skin at the nearest battleship. Some of the more rookie Marines stumble over themselves to back away from the railings. Satisfaction twists the edge of his lips. The sharp drag of his swords only unsettles them more. Marines drop down, landing on the bridge around them. From the marks on their uniforms, Zoro guesses they are all high-ranking officers with captains, of the same caliber as Smoker, making up the lowest-ranked among them. He crosses blades with the nearest cluster of officers, “You can send me as many as you want!”

“You can send him my share too!” Usopp yelps. Despite his panicked words, several marines fall victim to the sniper's explosive stars. Zoro cuts down four of them, clicking his tongue annoyed at the Marines who immediately replace them. The two of them, plus Franky fight what feels like an endless hoard of Marines.

Zoro tilts his head, confused and a little bored when a wide circle forms around him placing him at its epicenter. Marines line up along its edges, none of them coming within reach of his swords. There's a stir somewhere behind them and they part like obedient cattle. A huge commander with an even bigger broadaxe steps into the makeshift ring while they flow back, plugging up their ranks again. The excitement of a decent challenge sings through Zoro's veins. Unfortunately, it's short-lived. The weapon might be impressive, but it's slow to handle.

“Sword guys fight Zoro, leave me alone!” frantic yelling pipes up from somewhere beyond the ring and Zoro shifts his stance. He sends the large commander flying over the heads of the soldiers to crash straight into the swordsman harassing Usopp. Both their opponents go tumbling over the edge of the bridge. The sniper sends him a thumbs-up in thanks before disappearing. A bright flash near the stairs lets him know Nami has joined the fight while a faint floral smell clinging to the scent of singed hair makes him smile. He's busy sinking his swords through a few more Marines when another bout of yelling snaps his attention to the broken end of the bridge. Usopp sounds more terrified than usual. He's standing at the edge, mask clutched in his hand, “Luffy!”

Zoro cuts down the man trying to sneak up on the sniper. He's pushed back by more before he can reach him. Lies tumble, rapid fire from the other boy's lips, voice alternating between his usual pitch and the deeper baritone of his Sogeking persona. Zoro grits his teeth, sinking his sword viciously into a Marine's shoulder. He can hear Usopp heckling Lucci, trying to goad the Zoan user into a fight despite the fear in his voice. Luffy's strained shout is sharp with worry, “You idiot shut up already, he's gonna kill you!”

“You shut up! What the hell are you going to do about it laying there half-dead?!”

“That pigeon guy's mine!”

“Then stop coughing and bleeding like you're about to die, get up and fight already!”

Usopp stumbles back frightened and Zoro finally clears a path to him. Every member of CP-9 they've met seems to have a fragile ego. He doubts the pigeon-guy is any different. Lucci never reaches their side of the bridge. He has no idea what happened down below, only hears Luffy's loud declaration to win no matter what ringing through the air. His voice is a lot stronger than before.

Zoro smirks. The fighting stays the same. Cut a Marine. Stab another Marine. Until a commander with a devil-fruit power manages to rust his Yubashiri into dust and almost does the same with him. Usopp's very pleased to be the one saving him for once. A final blast explodes out from the hole in the support column.

“I have an urgent report! The most powerful agent of CP-9, Rob Lucci, has just been defeated by Straw Hat Luffy—!”

Loud distorted cheering cuts through the feed. Zoro recognizes Zamba and Paulie's voices among them. The Franky Family and the shipwrights of Galley-la are okay and making their way off the burning judicial island their own way. Luffy's excited cheer reaches across the bridge, “We're all going back together, Robin!”

Zoro has no time to worry about why the rubber teen has yet to slingshot himself over to them. A blast of cannon fire explodes through the air, arching towards the far end of the bridge. He stutters to a halt. Flames and smoke fill the sky, engulfing the area where the escort ship used to be. Where Chopper, and the kids, and Granny Kokoro used to be.

A certain missing CP-9 agent sprints impossibly fast out of the wreckage. The kid and the bunny cling to Sanji's shoulders while Kokoro and Chopper each hang under an arm. He tosses Chopper to Nami, wrapping his now-freed arm around her waist without slowing down. Canon fire continues taking out sections of the bridge behind him till a final blast sends them all hurtling past Zoro. Sanji lands on his feet next to him and they work together to break apart the flying debris. Rising from the ground, Nami hurls a complaint in the form of a question at the back of the assassin's head, "What the hell happened and where have you been?!"

"Miss me?" Sanji breathes around a pant. Fresh blood seeps from the holes in his chest, “You Straw Hats looked like you had it handled, there was something I had to take care of.”

Zoro cuts through the last piece of concrete, listening to Nami continue to needle the blonde, "Let me guess, you had to go assassinate someone while we were busy fighting off an entire fleet.”

"I'm starting to get the impression that's all you think I do."

"That's all we've seen you do." She replies, lifting a finger for each point, "Fight and assassinate." The palms of her hands are scraped a bright irritable red

Sanji huffs behind his mask, "Attempted assassination" he corrects "-and technically I was just the escort this time." He offers her a hand up which she accepts. All around them, the sound of metal clicking into place rings through the air. The battleships aim their cannons toward the last remaining section of the bridge they're standing on. Sanji curses, "Damn, these bastards have us cornered on this column.”

“You mean your bosses.” Zoro retorts. Nami's hand smacks against the back of his head,

“That's enough bickering. Can't you cut through the ships or something!”

“I'm not Mihawk!”

“Some swordsman you are.”

A low and lilting sound drifts up from the sea cutting through their argument. The notes rise and fall like swells in the ocean, coaxing the Straw Hats' attention over the side of the bridge. Usopp kneels, staring at something below. Each note sparks a warmth inside their chests like a hearth fire in a home. The Straw Hats all look towards each other smiling and Sanji tilts his head, “You're about to do something reckless aren't you.”

“Robin, can you grab Luffy and throw him into the sea?” Usopp calls, already dangling his legs over the edge. He turns to Sanji, “We have to jump, it'll be okay. We've still got one more friend here!”

The masked figure pauses, sighing, “Fine, but are you trying to kill your captain by tossing him into the sea like a piece of battered shrimp? Leave him to me, I'll go grab him.”

———

Luffy's head flops to the side as soon as his feet land on the broken tiles of the first support column, a wide grin splitting across his face. The captain's chest heaves with several stuttering breaths before gathering enough energy to yell, “Sanji—!”

Sanji ignores him, heading towards the CP-9 agent. The faded pink scars on Lucci's back are an ugly sight despite their age, the scarring too thick for any fur to grow there. By the state of the room around them, it looks like the two of them went all out during their fight. Sanji bends down and an angry swoop of feathers nearly barrels into him. Hattori perches on Lucci's back, puffing up to his entire 9.8 inches. He stares at the bird, unimpressed, “I will pluck out your feathers and cook you into a roast.”

Hattori takes off back to the rafters. The sound of Luffy's stomach growling might have been a contributing factor. Kneeling down he pushes the other agent onto his back, rooting through his pant pockets. Luckily, the bag containing the rest of the medicine sent over by the lab is in the first place he checks. He pulls out the bag and a sharp-clawed hand, several sizes larger than his own, wraps around his thin wrist.

“I knew you'd run, no matter how docile you pretended to act,” Lucci hisses. The thin pinpricks of his eyes glare at him through narrowed slits.

Sanji shakes off the weak grip on his arm, “No one likes a boasting housecat, Lucci.”

Walking over to Luffy he carefully slides his arms under him, mindful of his injuries. The Straw Hat captain's rib cage shifts, indenting unnaturally when he lifts him. Sanji's not sure if the feeling stems from the rubber devil-fruit ability or because every bone is broken. His head flops against Sanji's shoulder.

“You're trading your leash to the hands of a much weaker master.”

Luffy growls weakly, fingers twitching where they're folded over his stomach. Sanji adjusts his grip to hold the other boy more securely, toeing over the edge of the room. The sun glints off the water below.

“I'm not trading anything.”

The jump down is quick.

Frigid water rushes over their heads the deeper their fall plunges them into the sea. Keeping a hold of Luffy feels like being tied to a rock underwater. Not quite sinking, just a noticeable weight in his arms. Something wants to pull the other boy down into darker waters. It's without any force though, more of a conscious awareness about another being's intentions. Sanji takes a second to orient himself in the water and something tangible slithers around his waist. He kicks out, hitting a familiar pair of black-green boots. He does it again, harder. Zoro tugs them towards the surface, heedless of his struggling.

Sanji's head pops above water with a snarl, “The hell's your problem, get off me!”

He digs his elbow painfully into what he knows is a bruise smeared across the swordsman's side. Zoro grimaces, adjusting his grip to better protect his ribs, “Relax, or do you want to drown?”

“Drown-?!” Sanji blows an irritated breath through his nose, arm dropping back into the water. The other man's bare chest rubs against him at the movement. He leans away but it only presses the arm across his stomach more firmly against him. His heart lurches at the feeling. His voice is bone dry as he snaps, “I can swim, Mosshead.”
Heat seeps through the material of Sanji's shirt from the embarrassed flush creeping across Zoro's face and down his chest, deepening the color of his tanned skin.

“Uh, yeah pal, I tried to tell you before you jumped over. Sanji's not a devil-fruit user.” Franky calls. The crime boss is leaning over the side of the Going Merry, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, “I'm pretty sure Straw Hat is though and I don't see him.”

Zoro curses, diving back under the water in search of his captain, and the arm around his waist disappears. A shiver of dread coasts over Sanji's skin, goosebumps trailing along the areas where the swordsman pressed against him. Nausea stirs in his gut, a wet feeling pooling in the back of his mouth. No one has held him for more than a second without the intention to hurt or threaten him in a long time. He's not sure how to process it. A pirate in a cowboy hat flashes through his head and heat crawls up his neck. Franky calls down again, startling him and he makes his way over to the ship. The navigator is busy instructing them all on which winds to catch by the time Sanji joins him.

“We can't we're still surrounded.” Zoro points out. He hauls Luffy's limp form up behind him and they both stretch out on the deck, spilling a large quantity of seawater over the wooden boards.

“If you stress too much, you'll wilt,” Sanji taunts over his shoulder, watching the Gates of Justice close in the distance. The Battleships around them drift across the sea with an ominous creak, caught in the newly forming whirlpools. He leans against the railing. A second later screaming competes with the sound of wood and metal splintering apart. “Figured it'll take more than just guts to get out of here alive.”

Usopp and Luffy cheer, singing his praises. Zoro growls, leveraging himself back onto his feet, “It's too early to be kissing his ass, they're a problem for us too!”

“Please,” Nami scoffs. “There's no sea the Going Merry can't cross with a crew like ours manning her!”

Despite all odds, the Straw Hats' ship escapes the waters of Enies Lobby with a full crew and a little help from Franky's coup de vent. Somewhere in the distance the Franky family and shipwrights of Galley-la escape aboard the Puffing Tom.

———

The Going Merry's send-off is surrounded by the gentle grey of falling snow. Fire spreads across her wooden frame, consuming everything in sight. The scent of smoke clogs his nose, burning the back of his throat. He keeps his breaths shallow. Her main mast, splinters apart with a snap and Sanji looks away, stepping as far from the burning ship as he can get. Both to give the grieving Straw Hats some privacy and to escape his own smoke-filled memories clawing at the edges of his mind. He leans into the exhaustion buzzing there, pulling it like a thick blanket over everything else.

The Going Merry burns to ash instead of being swallowed by the depths of the ocean.

Iceberg's company ship bobs idly in the water while they climb up its sides, its owner waiting somewhere on her main decks. Workers stand near the railings eager to help haul them aboard. It takes a while. They're all slowed down by injuries and the Galley-la company ship is a lot bigger than what the caravel was since it's meant to transport large quantities of building material. Sanji hesitates near the edge. If the shipwrights are excited to see the Straw Hats that means Iceberg told them the truth about the attempted assassination. Or at least, the identities of the perpetrators behind it. Including Sanji's part. What's the protocol for boarding the ship of the man you tried to help assassinate?

“You!”

Hands clamp down on his arms and shoulders, lifting him the rest of the way. The movement pulls at the cut in his shoulder and he feels fresh blood trickle down. Armstrong's thunderous face greets him once he's aboard, one half darkened by a deep bruise. Sanji doesn't do anything, simply watches from a distance as he's backed against the railing, the other man's hands twisting in his shirt, “Did you think you could sneak back to Water-7 and finish the job?!”

The words smear across the grey apathy around his skin, dropping into the sea below. Iceberg meets his eyes over Armstrong's shoulder, looking surprised to see him. Sanji could probably take on a few of them. Break and bruise enough skin till they leave him alone. Exhaustion shudders through his limp hands and he sighs. Iceberg's eyes widen watching him sink to his knees. Any pride Sanji once felt has long since laid down beaten and bruised where he can't reach it. Only an echo of it occasionally brushes against his mind. He presses a hand against the newly opened wound in his shoulder. It's a parody of the last time he saw the mayor—their roles reversed. He's used to this role. Has resigned himself to it long ago. A hand yanks him up by the back of his shirt and he expects to see Armstrong but it's Franky at his side. He blinks. The crime boss's hand stays on his back, sinking through the static to rest against his skin as he glares at the shipwrights, "Don't get frosted, Ice-for-brains, there's a lot more going on here than you know."
No one moves. Iceberg and Franky stare at each other without saying anything. The lines of the mayor's suit bulge over the bandages wrapped around his frame.

"It would seem so," Iceberg agrees. He waves the shipwrights off, nodding his head at Franky, “I did say we'll take you all back to Water-7 and I meant it.” he turns to walk away, hesitating, “Just, do me a favor and keep an eye on him.”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

Franky finally drops his hand, leading them to where the Straw Hats are gathered. Sanji doesn't look at any of them.

———

“You guys did some crazy stuff back there. I don't think the government is going to let you off that easy after you burned down their flag,” Franky comments, plucking at the pink guitar he snapped together. He keeps the pieces stored around various compartments built into his body, exactly for occasions like this. Luffy and Usopp had practically exploded with excitement at the fact that he's a cyborg. Luckily, their exhaustion won out before they could get too carried away.

The Galley-la company ship cuts through the calm waters of the ocean at a steady pace, carrying them back to Water-7. Franky, the Straw Hat pirates, and the CP-9 stray they picked up along the way, are all sprawled around what has become their designated area near the front of the ship.

“Eh, whatever it doesn't feel like a big deal to me,” Luffy shrugs. Someone left him starfished in the center of it. He angles his head, smiling at Robin sitting next to Franky on a stack of pallets, “The only reason I did any of that was cause they took our friend and I wanted her back.”

Robin smiles. A hand blooms up from the wooden boards near Luffy's head, smoothing down the dark fringes of his hair, before dissipating in a burst of petals. Some of them land on the legs resting across the rubber teen's thighs and Usopp idly wiggles them off his overrals without lifting his head. The two of them make a funny-looking plus sign on the floor Franky notes. Luffy's voice is sincere when he addresses him, “We couldn't have done it without your help so thanks a lot!”

“Well, like you said it wasn't that big of a deal, I just did what I had to do” Franky replies, scratching the back of his neck. Dark eyes flick up to the space above their heads.

“You too.”

Sanji hums. He'd stowed himself away on a small decorative balcony, scarcely wide enough to fit him the moment they settled down. The masked figure is a bit of a puzzle that Sanji's not eager to let anyone try and solve. Franky's pretty sure he's picked up enough pieces to get an idea of what picture he's working with though.

“I'm glad Sanji decided to join my crew.”

“I never agreed to that.” He sighs. Sanji's voice has a weird hollowed-out sound to it which Franky doesn't blame him for. They're all tired and worn out after being dragged through CP-9's assassination plot. Franky would be excited about going home to his bed, except the last time he checked it was lying in several pieces across Water-7's coastline.

“No fair, you fought with us!” Luffy whines, long and childlike. Nothing at all like someone who declared war on the government. Franky strums another note. Across from him, Zoro's brow furrows over his closed eyelids. He's leaned back against a crate, pretending not to listen to their conversation. Both Chopper and Nami grumble when he shifts, jostling them.

“And that means I have no choice, but to sail with you?”

The phrasing probably doesn't mean anything but—

“You have a choice now,” Franky replies. The Straw Hats turn at his serious tone, curious. “That was the whole point of hauling ass out of there.”
It's a second before Sanji answers again, “The whole point was to prevent the World Government from getting their hands on a weapon like Pluton. They already have the power to wipe a whole country off the map, they didn't need anymore.”

“Drop the bit for a second and open up a little.” Franky groans. Maybe he's a little tired too, but it feels like he's spent forever trying to coax two feral cats in from the pouring rain. He's kind of sick of them swiping at bowls of warm milk like it's poisoned, “Robin and I aren't blind or deaf, you were in the same boat as us in that craphole.”

Sanji's voice is clearer and more precise than before, “You were CP-9's hostages, I worked for them—It's not the same thing.”

“Right,” Franky should have taken it for the warning it was and backed off. Instead, he rolls his eyes, guitar pic strumming across a particularly rough note, “What was the other option then if letting them lock an explosive collar around your neck was a choice? Hate to break it to you kid, but if it's anything other than the freedom to walk away, it wasn't a choice.”

It's not an argument, technically. No one got any louder and there were no insults thrown. It still feels like one. Usopp sits upright, fingers ghosting over the collar of his shirt. The dark skin of his face, pales “That's messed up, the government can't just do that!”

“I've never heard of explosive collars being used against government officials, but unfortunately many people find themselves controlled by another's whims due to them.” Robin comments.

“Those bastards have no right!” Hearing Chopper's childlike voice curse doesn't drum up the usual humor amongst the Straw Hat pirates. His short muzzle points somewhere above Franky's head, voice and ears drooping down, “Sanji are you okay?”

The blonde doesn't make a sound as he slips down from his perch, disappearing to one of the many other quiet nooks and crannies hidden around the ship. Franky watches him go, momentarily forgetting his promise to his brother.

Zoro cracks open an eye to look at their captain, “Luffy are you sure you want this guy as our cook?”

“Yes.” There's no hesitation. Luffy stares up at the sky, hands fisted against the wood of the deck. Something unreadable passes over his expression, “He has a dream, and it's somewhere on the ocean, I can feel it.”

It's Nami who interrupts the uncomfortable silence settled over them this time. She sighs, pulling her knees up to her chest, "It's pointless trying to change Luffy's mind once he decides something." She fixes him with a pointed stare, "But Luffy, you can't be your usual self and demand he joins the crew until he gives in. It has to be his choice—a real choice." she settles back down against Zoro's shoulder, "He probably hasn't had a lot of those recently."