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Sometime after the Strawhat pirates disbanded once their ultimate goal was met, their individual dreams had become reality, and the Grand Baratie was built, Sanji received an unexpected call on his transponder snail from Patty. He greeted his old friend with a grin, ready to throw himself into the familiar banter that was expected from the Baratie staff. But, when his sarcastic greeting wasn’t returned with the same energy, he immediately clocked that something was off.
Last he checked in with the old man and staff at the Baratie they were making plans to visit and see Sanji’s grand restaurant ship within the next year. Everything was fine. But now, there was distress in Patty’s voice as he explained that something was wrong with Zeff.
Sanji dropped everything, packed a bag, and made the grueling journey back to the East Blue. He stopped along the way to pick up the best doctor he knew; Chopper.
Once they arrived back in the East Blue, they headed straight to the Baratie, where the reindeer did his best to examine Zeff. The older chef hated the attention, but begrudgingly put up with it for Sanji, Carne, and Patty’s sakes. Of course, the chef thought that the strange talking reindeer doctor would give him a clean bill of health. He’s just getting old. That’s all. He was fine.
However, once Chopper had finished with his examination, he pulled Sanji aside first. He knew his former crew-mate well enough to know that he would likely need time to himself to digest and cope with what he was about to tell him.
The news was, unfortunately, devastating.
Sanji ran a hand through his hair, grasping at the section covering half of his face right at the roots, gripping so hard to the point of pain as Chopper, his friend, his nakama, the best doctor across all four seas and the grand line, broke the news. As gently as he could, Chopper explained that Zeff had a condition known as Alzheimer’s, and went over the basics of what that diagnosis entails, promising to get Sanji reading materials that would better elaborate on it and what to expect, so that he could read and digest it all on his own terms.
The reality was that the loud, sharp, brash chef was in the midst of a slow decline, and nothing could be done to halt it.
It felt akin to a bullet to the chest.
Patty and Carne were filled in next. The three cooks then spoke in private, discussing what they could do, how they could move forward and best accommodate Zeff. It was a hard talk to have- not because there were any disagreements, but because it hurt to discuss what to do in this situation; how to take care of Zeff, and what will become of the floating fish shaped mariner restaurant, The Baratie, and its expansion of sister ships.
Ultimately, it was decided between the three that the most logical path forward was for Patty and Carne to take over, and that Zeff would go with Sanji so he could care for him. The former pirate captain-turned-restaurant-owner was still aware and mentally sharp, as he was in the early stages, listening with a clear mind to the three men he considered family as they explained the plan they came up with.
It hurt to hear. Zeff had taken these men in, put them under his wing, and taught them everything he knows. Hell, he raised Sanji… He put a roof over their heads, food in their bellies, and a stable income. But now the roles are suddenly being reversed and turned his world upside down. Zeff loathed it. He didn’t accept it at first, yelling at them, sending hard kicks with his peg leg their way, and lashing out that he’s fine and didn’t need a bunch of snot nosed brats dictating what he can and can’t do.
However, once the sun had set and the Baratie closed its doors to the public, he approached Sanji. The blond cook was on the bar deck inside the gaping maw of the fish shaped ship as he smoked a cigarette and looked out at the sea Zeff had raised him in, lost in his thoughts and the reminiscent memories of days past playing in his mind.
“Oi, little eggplant.”
“Hm? What do you want, old man?” Sanji replied calmly, quirking up a curled brow as he glanced at Zeff from the side of his eye.
“You…” he cleared his throat, letting out a gruff breath. “You found the All Blue and have your own ship there, yeah? Take me to it. I want to see this ‘Grand Baratie’ you kept boasting about in your letters and calls, and see how shit it is compared to the original. You would copy me, you damn brat.” He gave Sanji a pointed look before his gaze too shifted to the sea, hands clasped behind his back. “Patty and Carne can hold down the fort here while I’m gone.” While I’m gone.
His expression was stern, tone sarcastic, but there was a certain sadness in his eyes and the slight down tilt to the corners of his mouth. It was his way of telling Sanji that he agreed to their plan, and accepted his fate. He trusted Sanji enough to put his life in the younger man’s capable hands, letting out a huff at the irony of the situation.
They made the journey back after Zeff packed his things. He wasn’t really a material man, but he brought along his clothes and his favorite set of cooking knives, including the one that survived the crash when he and Sanji met. It was the very knife Sanji almost used to kill him with. It was his absolute favorite. Despite the rust and wear it held and inability to be used to cook any longer, it was still important.
The journey back itself was a hell of one.
Zeff hated the attention the weird lanky reindeer doctor gave him, often threatening to skin and cook him up into whatever dish he thought of in the moment if he didn’t get the fuck away from him, to which Chopper always responded with a yelp before skittering off. The tamed Sea-King Sanji had harnessed to the front of the supply ship he came in on made the journey safer and faster, at least.
As they traversed the Grand Line, Zeff was happy to see it again, often sitting on the deck of the ship and regaling stories of his days as a pirate captain to Sanji and Chopper… and re-telling more than once. While it made his chest tighten, Sanji listened each time like it was the first he’d heard it, nodding along, asking questions, laughing…
Chopper could sense the heartache Sanji felt under the mask he put up, often putting a hoof on his shoulder, or nudging him with his snout affectionately to try and comfort him. He had tried to talk to Sanji about it privately, but the cook politely refused, quick to change the subject and skirt about the issue. While he respected Sanji and his decision to avoid talking about his feelings, he still worried, and made sure the cook was aware that he was more than happy to help in any way he could.
When they had finally breached the waters of the All Blue, Zeff was truly the purest form of himself. Sanji had never seen the old man happy. Enthused, even. The older chef stood tall as he took it all in when they arrived, tears welling in his eyes as he finally, finally achieved the dream he had been chasing his entire life.
“So, this is the All Blue.” He said, blinking away tears as he looked out at the crystal clear waters, where he could see the Sea-Kings and Sea-Beasts swimming below, fish skirting around them- some familiar, many not, and the different marine plant life that swayed with the rebound of movement from the creatures that passed by.
“It is.” Sanji said before taking a deep inhale of a cigarette, eyeing the chef from the corner of his eye and doing his damndest to suppress a smile. “It took a while… but my crew was able to help me hunt it down. Welcome to a chef's paradise.”
Despite his best efforts, Sanji simply couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face as he excitedly explained the All Blue to Zeff. He went into how he was already working on a journal of the different fish and sea plants that could be used for cooking, and the small islands scattered around that held herbs and spices… everything he could get his hands on. He couldn’t contain the joy bursting from his heart as he elaborated, pointing out the different creatures, plants, and the small islands which held herbs that were unique to the All Blue as they passed them by.
Zeff looked upon Sanji with pride, watching the man he raised from a runty little brat spread his arms out to gesture to the sea before them, the All Blue, and smile with life and love sparkling in his exposed crystalline eye. He had never seen Sanji so happy before, even more so than on his wedding day. This moment of Sanji sharing the place of dreams that formed their bond to begin with and fulfilling the shared dream of the two; that of the man who took Sanji in and raised him, treated him like a son, and that of the son who worked hard to earn his place in the older man’s life, to repay his self inflicted debt… It was the single most happiest moment in both Zeff and Sanji’s entire lives.
When they got to the Grand Baratie, Sanji was quick to enthusiastically show off the shark shaped ship. The comments Zeff made as he was given the grand tour were complimentary in his own way; calling Sanji a copycat, mainly. He was impressed with the kitchen specifically, which had a similar layout to the Baratie. Unbeknownst to either of them, that would end up being a blessing in disguise.
While Sanji was showing Zeff around, Chopper had taken Zoro aside to fill him in on the situation before he took his leave. Zoro had simply nodded, steeling his nerves and keeping a close eye on his husband and the older chef, while keeping his distance to a degree. This was special, he knew, these precious moments that would be treasured between adoptive father and son. The time ahead would be important and special for Sanji and Zeff, very likely the last stretch of time they would be able to spend together, and he didn’t want to impede on that. This was their time, not his. So, he gave them space, only intruding to help where needed, or swap stories with the old man over a drink. Zeff did like him after all, despite the constant ribbing and threats against his life if he dare hurt Sanji that he had received at their wedding.
One of the spare rooms above the restaurant was done up for Zeff, who had settled in just fine. He’d started a routine of coming down to invade the kitchen and criticize Sanji and his staff before snagging a knife off the rack and proceeding to do things the ‘right’ way, as an excuse to keep himself busy and spend more time being close with the blond chef.
He slotted himself right into the chaos of the kitchen and flow of the restaurant, and he fit in perfectly. The staff absolutely loved it, snickering at how the older chef constantly gave Sanji shit, and watched on with interest in how they butt heads and bickered, yet still worked together in perfect sync, as if they were extensions of each other.
A couple of months after he arrived, on a particularly busy day, Zeff had come down in a haggard state; His chef's coat wasn’t buttoned correctly, apron untied in the back and hat forgotten completely as he staggered in, clearly distressed as he grabbed Sanji’s arm. “The hell are you doing, little eggplant?! It’s a goddamn rush- and where the hell are Patty and Carne?!”
Oh. Oh no.
Sanji felt his entire being sink, terror immediately sinking its jagged fangs into him. He knew this would happen eventually, he thought he was prepared, that he could handle it when Zeff declined further. Hell, Chopper gave him a book on the damn disease that he poured over whenever he had free time, but… he thought he had more time…he thought… maybe... just maybe, he could live in this picture perfect paradise, cooking with Zeff again and existing in the All Blue; the place that drove them both forward, the place that kept them stubborn to survive and clinging to hope when they were on the brink of death, just a little bit longer…
“Zeff-“ he started, only for Zeff to give him a sharp, stern glare. “That’s Chef to you, little eggplant.”
How he managed the rest of the day, Sanji wasn’t even sure. He panicked, all the information he took in on how to handle a situation like this vanishing from his mind as he tried to explain that this wasn’t the Baratie, that Patty and Carne were back in the East Blue, and that this was Sanji’s kitchen inside Sanji’s ship. It only served to confuse and frustrate the older chef even more.
Eventually, though, Zeff tired himself out, his outrage and panic when Sanji desperately tried to explain what was going on exhausting him. There was broken future to clean up, the older chef having lashed out with hard kicks of his peg leg that were akin to those he dished out when someone on staff royally fucked up at the Baratie, but Sanji let his staff handle the clean up as he frantically called Chopper.
“He needs familiarity…” Chopper's voice spoke through the transponder snail, which held a furrowed expression and a frown to its mouth. “In a state like that, trying to bring him back to reality can cause more harm than good. If he thinks he’s in the East Blue, at the Baratie, or even a pirate again, it might be best to play along while you redirect him.” He explained, pausing a moment before continuing, “I’ll be honest, Sanji, It’s going to be tough, and take a bit for you to get used to… but it’s best not to stress him out and exacerbate the symptoms if you can help it.” He said slowly, anxiety clear in his voice; worry for Sanji. “Oh! And beware of sundowning. Some people with Alzheimer’s end up with their internal clocks getting kinda mixed up and off track. ….Are you sure you can handle this alone…? I can always come back, and maybe let the others-”
“Of course I can.” Sanji interjected firmly, snapping at the reindeer. He nodding stiffly as he spoke, despite the fact Chopper couldn’t see him. Though, it was more for himself anyway, to convince himself that he could handle it himself. “I can’t just.. abandon him somewhere- put him in a facility or put the responsibility on Patty, or Carne, or anyone else. He needs me. I’ll take care of him. I owe him that much.” His voice wavered at the end, raw emotion breaking through. Neither Sanji nor Chopper acknowledged it. “If you need me, please tell me? You have people willing to help you.. we’re nakama.” Sanji was silent a moment before he thanked Chopper for his guidance, and promptly ended the call.
I can handle this, he told himself, running a hand through his hair, resisting the urge to grasp it between his fingers. I can do this.
It was a harder task than Sanji anticipated. Many a night he fought back tears from just how fucking stressful it was to run a restaurant and take care of a stubborn, senile old man who was getting worse by the day. He became irritable from the stress, getting easily triggered into snapping at his staff and husband, causing tension to grow high- only for him to apologize profusely and seek comfort in the arms of one of the only people he felt truly safe with emotionally. Zoro was his rock, holding him and letting him get his emotions out in the privacy of their room, safely away from the world within the four walls; safe for Sanji to let the mask that he was strong and okay drop, letting himself be vulnerable for a small while before pulling himself together and knuckling down to push forward.
Over time, Sanji did manage to adapt. He let Zeff think he was the head chef when he thought he was back at the Baratie, the similar layout of the kitchen helping significantly. He often nudged Zeff in the right direction when he got confused and frustrated, redirecting him, as Chopper had advised. “Oi, old man. I’m working on the spice rub for that right there.” Nodding to the Sea-Cow-Sea-Beast steak in front of Zeff. “Customer actually has taste, wanting it medium rare.” Along with similar guiding comments. It felt nostalgic in a way, but tragically sad at the same time.
There were moments when Zeff, confused and on edge, would ask where he was, unable to recognize anything or piece together fragmented memories. Sanji would lead him up and onto a balcony above the restaurant, gesturing to the sea, and telling him they were in the All Blue; that they achieved their dream to find it, re-explaining everything he had told him on their initial voyage there, and showing him the journal he was using to note his findings down in preparation to write a cookbook of his own. He explained and re-explained over and over with the same enthusiasm, reveling in the joy and pride in Zeff’s eyes just as much as the first. It was something he engraved into his mind; his adoptive father looking out at the sea with a misty eyed smile before looking to Sanji with all the pride in the world, and failing to keep up his gruff and stern persona as a smile formed just under his braided mustache.
That notebook became part of a routine task that kept Zeff busy, mentally engaged and challenged. He’d be set up on the balcony with a small table in front of him, equipped with quill and ink, Sanji’s journal, and a leather bound cookbook that already had a few recipes written down neatly by the younger blond chef.
Zeff was himself when he did this, it kept him anchored for the most part as he went over Sanji’s notes and pieced together recipes to try, and taking the liberty to add in a few of his own that he had developed throughout the years. Some were written more than once, but Sanji didn’t mind, and didn’t acknowledge it openly.
In the evenings after the Grand Baratie closed for the day, when Zeff was restless and ‘sundowning’, Sanji would stay up and they’d try the recipes he had written down, making notes and adjustments as needed until the older chef tired himself out. Cooking was natural for Zeff, whether he was in the moment at the kitchen of the Grand Baratie, at the original Baratie, or even on the ship of the Cook Pirates. Wherever Zeff perceived he was, he cooked. It grounded him and brought him peace.
The cook book was gradually filling up with recipes, and to Sanji it made up for his lack of sleep.
Over time, however, the recipes were gradually getting harder to read and make sense of, Zeff’s handwriting getting sloppier and more scribbly. His focus was lapsing, and memory fading. It got to a point when they were cooking in the evening, Zeff simply did whatever his scrambled instincts told him to with whatever was available… and it was starting to turn into a disaster. While muscle memory kept his fine motor skills in tact, his recipes began to make less and less sense. His combination of spices, sauces, and meat were haphazard to the point where many tasted horrible and were over cooked. But Sanji ate every last bite, Zoro often coming down and helping. Both didn’t voice a single complaint as they choked the food down, masking their reactions as to not upset Zeff and potentially triggering an outburst.
Wasting food was against Sanji’s code, and he’d be damned to waste even a single crumb of what Zeff cooked. He didn’t want to waste what could possibly be the last meal Zeff ever made, even if it was hardly edible and made his taste buds recoil.
Chopper had made another visit after Sanji had called him in a panic, explaining that Zeff had a bad fall. It became apparent that the peg leg wasn’t cutting it anymore as his physical and mental state continued to decline. He had lost weight, causing the leg to fit poorly. Even with the assistance of a crutch, he was unstable.
The chef, who used to stand so tall, who was feared by many and called ‘Redleg’ due to his boots often being stained with blood, and who was able to take command of a kitchen with just a look; a glaring narrow of his eyes and upturn of his chin, was now resigned to a wheelchair.
Chopper had decided to stay around a while, worried for Zeff, of course, but more importantly, worried for Sanji. The blond was running himself ragged, dark circles forming under his eyes as the exhaustion and stress started to wear him down. So, the reindeer gave Sanji a break where he could, caring for Zeff to the best of his ability while Sanji worked, and helping with tasks of daily living that the older chef now required.
Every night, the two chefs would sit together up on the balcony while Zoro snoozed against a wall inside inside, far enough away as to not intrude on their time together, but close enough to keep watch over them and ensure he could be able to help if needed… and to watch his partner bask in the presence of his mentor and father figure as Sanji told Zeff where they were and the wonders that it held over and over. Zeff, in turn, would marvel and ask questions, or regale his own tales as a pirate…
Or about how he saved a snot nosed brat from the brink of death on a rock in the middle of the sea.
“He was a good kid, that little eggplant. I wonder what he’s up to now.” Was the single most difficult and gut wrenching sentence for Sanji to hear. He’s forgetting… he doesn’t recognize me. It took every ounce of willpower to keep his composure until Zeff was put to bed, holding himself together until he could slip out of the room. He sobbed to Zoro and Chopper, crying himself to sleep in his husband's arms as the reindeer doctor took it upon himself to ensure his adoptive father was comfortable and taken care of, and to give Sanji and Zoro the privacy they needed as Sanji grieved.
The older chef would only decline further… more often than not he was quiet, lost in his own mind and disoriented until he would have random bouts of outbursts. He would often become combative during those outbursts, especially during quality of life tasks such as getting him bathed, dressed, taken down the stairs, etc. Poor Chopper had gotten a few bruises and was forced to use his heavy point form more than he would have liked to prevent himself or Zeff from getting hurt when he was helping. Zoro and Sanji got their fair share as well, but the three managed.
Sanji was torn between the guilt he felt that Zoro and Chopper had to share the burden of his responsibility for Zeff’s care, the shame that he couldn’t handle it himself, but also how grateful he as to have such wonderful people in his life that were willing to shoulder some of that burden, while also caring about his own wellbeing.
Eventually, Zeff was mostly bed bound, only in his wheelchair when Sanji specifically lifted and carried him down the stairs and carefully placed him into it. While Zeff may not have always recognized Sanji, he always inherently knew Sanji was safe, instinctively trusting him.
As the days passed by and melted into weeks, and too soon weeks into months, it became clear that the end was approaching. Chopper tentatively confirmed it once Zeff had been put to bed for the night. Sanji felt like his world was crumbling down, shattering before his very eyes. He could feel the sharp, jagged edges of the broken pieces cutting into his entire being as they fell, threatening to crush and burry him under the immense and suffocating weight. The reindeer went over what to possibly expect as Sanji just… stared off past him, checked out, partially disassociating, and coping horribly.
Sanji grit his teeth and forced himself to hold the broken pieces together, despite how they dug themselves deeper and deeper into his heart. He took care of Zeff to the best of his ability, often leaving running the restaurant to his sous-chef on days he couldn’t cope with being separated from the older man. Though, some days he did need a break, needing to cope in the only way he knew how; cooking. On those days, he let Chopper or Zoro stay by Zeff’s side while he slipped down to the kitchen.
It had been one of those days where Sanji needed the security and comfort of the kitchen when the inevitable finally snuck up to him. That day… it was truly a surprise; unexpected and full of conflicting emotions.
Sanji was busy wiping down the counters and getting the morning prep work done when a distinct step-thunk combination caught his ears. He turned his head to see Zeff up and dressed, his peg leg attached fairly firmly (albeit a bit loosely, despite the extra material packed in to attempt to give it a more snug fit), standing tall in the doorway of the Grand Baratie’s kitchen.
“Alright, little eggplant. Let’s get the morning prep sorted. Show me you have what it takes to be a real chef.” Zeff demanded, shoulders back and arms crossed over his chest as he peered at Sanji sharply, who couldn’t do anything other than stare.
“Often, when people are close to dying, they can get a second wind soon before, a burst of energy and clarity. Some say it's to make sure they can die without regrets, to have one last hoorah. Others say that it’s sort of like a fight or flight response to their impending, uhm- ‘end’, instinctively using all the energy and life force they have left to function as normally as possible one last time. Just keep in mind that should something like that happen… that it’s not a sign of improvement… it means his final moment is near.” Chopper’s carefully explained words echoed in his head as he stared at Zeff, who impatiently sneered as he raised his brows questioningly.
Sanji stared for a long moment, swallowing his heartbreak and sadness, shoving it down as he slowly nodded and straightened, quite literally rising to the challenge as he turned up his nose in faux arrogance. “I’ll show you that I’m the best damn chef in the grand line- hell, across all four seas as well! And a hell of a lot better than you, old man!”
“Better than me, huh? Prove it, then. Your cooking is for shit, little eggplant, always has been, always will be.” Zeff stated matter-of-factly with a smirk, one side of his mouth curling up and making his mustache twitch with a small bounce. Sanji let out a laugh, his heart aching as he fell into the familiar banter between himself and Zeff, grasping onto it and basking in the melancholy comfort it provided. He grinned, cocking up a curled brow. “I cook better than you ever could, you old shit bag!”
If this was truly the final day he’d ever have with the Zeff he knew, he’d make the absolute best of it.
They did the prep work together and greeted the staff as they trickled in, all visibly surprised and confused at the scene they were witnessing in the kitchen. Sanji rounded them up to explain what was going on, advising them to treat Zeff as normally as possible, as they had when he first arrived.
Zeff was mostly present in the moment, but there were times where it was clear he thought he was at the Baratie. He’d call out for his own staff, to which one of Sanji’s would step in, or it would be explained away that they were sick or simply just not there right now.
Sanji was in the zone the entire day, not wanting to waste an opportunity like this; a day of sharing a kitchen properly one last time. Zeff watched him like a hawk, giving him praises disguised as critiques and backhanded compliments as he looked upon the younger man with narrowed eyes. Every so often he gave Sanji gruff hums of approval, and every time Sanji could help but shine all the more brighter.
It had been the perfect day.
Zeff had inevitably gotten tired after a while, his energy waning. Zoro brought over the wheelchair for Zeff, who took a seat and barked at the swordsman to move him to where he’d have a clear view of the kitchen; a clear view of Sanji.
He held a soft smile as he watched the stubborn child he raised take control of the space, using every thing he had taught him to his advantage. Sanji had reminded Zeff of himself as he watched, reminiscent of how he would control the chaos at the Baratie, ensuring it ran like an efficient well oiled machine, but somehow still fun.
The atmosphere in the Grand Baratie’s kitchen was warm, everyone focused and attentive, yet happy and at ease in the space. Jokes and banter were tossed around between Sanji barking orders and the shouted communication between stations. It made Zeff miss the Baratie and the found family he formed with Patty, Carne, and the rest of the staff. He was able to rest easy knowing his home and life’s work was in good, capable hands that would treat it with the respect it deserved.
Sanji did good for himself, Zeff had decided, leaning back in the wheelchair as he continued to watch, his eyes following each movement the blond chef made as he fluidly traversed the space and cooked with expertise and skill that had been honed through years of dedication to the craft.
The restaurant had closed early, Sanji stepping away to lead Zeff away to the bar deck as his staff handled the cleanup and closing duties. They shared a glass of red wine, Zeff re-telling stories Sanji had heard more times than he could keep track of at this point. His mind was slipping more and more with each passing moment as his energy gradually dissipated. Soon, he didn’t even recognizing Sanji, telling the blond haired stranger sat beside him about the blond haired brat he took in all those years ago.
Sanji cleared his throat to keep his composure, speaking as nonchalantly as he could after taking a deep inhale of his cigarette, the smoke billowing from his lips as he spoke, “You know, he’s a chef now. With his own restaurant ship. It’s shaped like a shark. He called it the ‘Grand Baratie’.” He glanced at Zeff from the corner of his eye, taking another drag to calm himself and ignore the mounting pressure behind his eyes.
“Hah, what an unoriginal brat, copying me!” Zeff said with a chuckle, shaking his head.
“He is, one hundred percent.” Sanji said with a laugh of his own, exhaling as he felt the pressure lessen, though only slightly. “Did you know he found the All Blue as well? That restaurant is smack dab in the middle of it.”
“Oh…?” Zeff’s tone was softer, sentimental, and thoughtful as he spoke, “He really did it…” He looked out at the sea and its seemingly endless stretch of water. It was hard to tell what sea he saw before him. “I knew he would.” He said quietly. “It’s why I saved his life all those years ago. We shared the same dream, and I had faith he’d make it become a reality. I bet my life on it.” He patted the stump of his left leg, nodding, though more to himself. “He was a good kid. A stubborn brat… but he had a stubborn old pirate to guide him. I bet he turned out alright.” He then looked to the stranger next to him, mischief in his eyes as he smirked. “Don’t you tell him I said this, but his cooking wasn’t completely for shit.”
Sanji chuckled, shaking his head “your secrets safe with me.”
The conversation was ingrained in Sanji’s memory, re-playing over and over as he, Chopper, and Zoro got the older chef up and into bed. Sanji took over once Zeff was up the stairs and settled in comfortably, to which the other two took their leave, giving Sanji and Zeff privacy.
“Oi.” Zeff called out from his bed, prompting Sanji to pull up a chair. “Yeah? What is it, old man?” He asked, taking a seat at his bedside.
“Sanji.”
Sanji held his breath, back tensing.
“Tomorrow,” Zeff started, looking up to the ceiling as he entwined his fingers together, folding his hands over his stomach. “I want to see the sea- the All Blue. I want to swim in it.”
“Sure thing… Zeff.”
The older chef nodded, settling himself against the pillows a bit more as he turned his head to look at Sanji, his eyes finding the younger man’s and locking their gazes together. “You’re a good kid, Sanji. Keep your feet dry, alright? I don’t want a son of mine besmirching the legacy of The Baratie and All Blue.”
Sanji blinked, his eyes going glassy as he chuckled. “Yeah yeah…love you too, Zeff. Just… get some rest, okay? Tomorrow you’ll enjoy the waters of the All Blue to the fullest. I promise.”
Zeff didn’t reply, not having any comments or huffs in response. Instead, he simply gave an accepting nod as he shifted his shoulders and looked back up to the ceiling, a peaceful expression crossing his features. His eyes, usually sharp and stern softened as they lingered on the ceiling a moment longer before they closed, his pale lashes damply glistening in the dim light of the room.
—
The next morning, Zeff’s request had been granted.
Donned in his chef's coat and far too tall chef’s hat, he laid comfortably in a small boat with his hands folded over his abdomen. A rusted, worn down knife lay beneath his palms, and a pristine white table cloth was delicately draped over him. He was drifting far out in the middle of the All Blue, the sea he fantasized about for all of his long, eventful, and now fulfilled life.
He was truely at peace as flames of fate, love, and dreams engulfed him in one final, warm embrace.
Sanji watched in silence with Zoro to one side, who had an arm around his shoulders to keep him grounded, while Chopper was on his other, placing a hoof gently over his hand which was balled into a tight, trembling fist. He tried to keep it together, to push down the lump in his throat, the way his chest felt like it was going to cave in on itself, and fight against the well of pressure building rapidly behind his eyes.
The clatter of his golden lighter falling from his hand and onto the deck went unacknowledged by both Sanji and the nakama on either side of him as his knees gave out from under him, hitting the deck hard. He slipped out of their comforting embrace as his body slumped forward, staring straight ahead at the warm glow emitted from the boat that was slowly drifting father and father away.
He placed his trembling hands on the deck and bowed his head, pressing his forehead firmly against the wood just as the building pressure behind his eyes finally broke. “Thank you for putting up with my shit all these years, old man, I owe you my life! I’ll never forget your kindness, and… and I’ll never forget you- for the rest of my life!!!” He shouted out as his shoulders shook, hands balling into fists as he fully broke down. He shook off any attempt to be comforted by Zoro or Chopper, both taking a step back and respecting how Sanji was processing his grief. They watched over him with misty eyes, as Chopper stepped closer to Zoro with a sniffle and reached a hoof out to nudge the swordsman’s hand, who in turn grasped it tightly.
It took a long few moments for Sanji to pull himself together enough to be able to push himself up to stand. He continued to refuse any help offered by Chopper and Zoro when they had attempted to step towards him and assist him up, brushing them off with a shake of his head. His cheeks glistened wetly in the sunlight as he put his hands in his pockets, rolled his shoulders back and stepped up to the very edge of the deck with his head held high.
He took a deep breath, holding it till he knew he could exhale without his breath stuttering.
“Good bye… Dad.”