A Second Chance [One Piece, Zoro/Sanji]
Title: A Second Chance
Fandom: One Piece characters with Pushing Daisies plot
Pairing/Character: Zoro/Sanji (or Sanji/Zoro; there’s no sexing, so it doesn’t really matter, does it?), Nami, Chopper, Gin (one-sided Gin~>Sanji), Lola, Perona, Mihawk, Absalom, Zeff, Kuina, mention of Gecko Moria
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: One Piece, Pushing Daisies, and their characters/ideas do not belong to me.
Summary: AU; the Pie Maker has two talents. One is making pies. The other is bringing the dead back to life.
A/N: First in a potential series. Much like with Flash Forward, this is to ease my longing for more Pushing Daisies; but unlike with Flash Forward, I don’t have a clear storyline in mind. So I’ll just write more whenever something comes to me.
A/N #2: My math is probably off here and there. IDGAF.
At this very moment, in the kitchen of the Pie Hole, Sanji is 19 years, 32 weeks, 5 days, and 50 minutes old. Sanji, also known as the Pie Maker, has a talent for making pies. The Pie Hole pies are the best pies in the city of Grand Line. The fruit used in those pies-the strawberries, cherries, apples, blueberries, just to name a few-were the ripest, sweetest fruits with the tastiest flavors that were, quite literally, everlasting.
This is because Sanji has another talent.
The peaches sitting on the table beside the waiting-to-be-filled pie crust are old, soft, and moldy. That is, until Sanji touches them. Gently held between the Pie Maker’s fingers, they become the freshest peaches that have ever been.
--
9 years, 4 weeks, 1 day, and 22 minutes ago, Sanji discovered he could bring things back to life when he found his dog, Tony Chopper, lying dead in the road. The moment his hand touched the blood-matted fur, his beloved canine friend was on his feet and running toward the sound of an ice cream truck. Young Sanji, dizzy with aborted grief and wonder, did not notice the bird that dropped dead from the sky a minute later.
This was one of the rules of Sanji’s gift. He could only bring something dead back to life for one minute without consequence. Any longer, and something else had to die. At that moment, young Sanji did not know that.
What young Sanji did know was this: he was in love with the boy who lived across the street. The boy who lived across the street was Zoro. Zoro was 36 weeks, 2 days, and 15 minutes older than Sanji. He lived with his Uncle Mihawk and Aunt Perona, who were older than everyone involved. (Except for young Sanji’s not-so-young father, Zeff, who was deeply involved.) He also lived with his sister, Kuina, also involved, perhaps quite as deeply.
It was at the moment young Sanji was watching the rather active Zoro do pull-ups on a pecan tree branch, when Zeff and Kuina got so deeply involved. It was a burst blood vessel that killed Zeff the first time. Sanji saw his father collapse in the reflection of the window and he temporarily forgot about Zoro. He temporarily forgot about everything, everything but his mysterious talent.
One touch to Zeff’s cheek, and young Sanji’s father was warm and alive and grumbling about slippery kitchen floors.
One minute later, across the street, Kuina’s heart stopped.
And that night, when Zeff consolingly tousled young Sanji’s blond hair after tucking him into bed, another rule of Sanji’s gift became tragically clear. While the first touch brought life, the second brought death, again, forever.
Over the next 3 days, two bodies were buried and arrangements were made for the orphaned Sanji (and Tony Chopper) to be sent to work in the kitchens of the Orbit Boarding School for Boys. And somehow, some time between the mourning and the packing and the body-burying and arranging, young Sanji met Zoro beneath the pecan tree and the heartbroken sweethearts shared a sweet kiss.
--
Gin wonders what it would be like to kiss the Pie Maker. This is something he wonders often, but will never find out. He does not know that the reason why he will never find out is that the Pie Maker is still in love with the boy who lived across the street. He thinks that the reason is, simply, the Pie Maker is not interested in men that way. This is not a difficult conclusion for Gin, a waiter at the Pie Hole (in fact, the only waiter at the Pie Hole), to come to. The Pie Maker is always extremely, yet unobtrusively, kind to women, girls, and ladies. He gives them his most charming smiles, asks them about their day, and tells them all that they are beautiful. The Pie Maker does these things, not because he is interested in them that way, but because of the immense guilt he feels for inadvertently killing Kuina, the girl who meant the most to the boy who meant the most to him.
Gin wonders, also often, if the Pie Maker dates anyone. The Pie Maker does not. His closest confidante, as always, is Tony Chopper, the once-dead dog. Tony Chopper stays loyal to his sweet-smelling master, even though he cannot pet or scratch him or give his belly a nice rub.
Recently, however, there has been Nami.
Private Investigator Nami came to the Pie Hole 30 weeks, 4 days, and 1 minute ago when she followed the smell of orange meringue pie. (The smell of oranges is Nami’s second favorite smell. The thing she loves to smell the most is money.) She continues to come to the Pie Hole for something else entirely.
Nami is the only other human being who knows of Sanji’s talent. The bringing-people-back-to-life talent, not the pie-baking talent, just to be clear. Nami can do her job, and she can do her job well, but she can do her job much faster if she can ask dead people how they died. She can say that she uses Sanji’s assistance so that she can more quickly provide grieving families with the information they need in order for them to move on with their lives. But the truth is, she uses Sanji’s assistance so that she can more quickly provide families with the information they need in order for them to pay her.
This is what brings her to the Pie Hole today.
Nami is sitting in her usual booth with a half-eaten slice of her usual pie when Sanji is able to leave the kitchen and join her. He looks uneasy.
“You look uneasy,” she says.
“Are you here for a friendly chat about pie or perhaps the lovely new dress you’re wearing that truly brings out the color of your eyes?”
“No.”
“Then I’m uneasy.”
She smiles in an uncomforting manner as she slides a green file across the table. “There’s a body.”
“What kind of body?”
“A dead one. Found in a lifeboat belonging to a Thousand Sunny cruise ship. The remaining family, an uncle and an aunt, want to know what happened to their nephew. They live in some suburb called East Blue-”
“East Blue?”
Nami arches a delicately curious eyebrow. “You know East Blue?”
He lived in East Blue. “I’ve heard of it.” Swallowing the lump of dread in his throat, he asks, “This dead body, does it have a name?”
“Roronoa Zoro.”
--
The facts were these. Roronoa Zoro, 19 years, 48 weeks, 2 days, and 480 minutes old, loved his reclusive uncle and aunt, but was growing tired of spending his life caring for them. So he booked a Thousand Sunny cruise, eager to see new sights. He saw a seemingly endless stretch of sparkling sea, a breaching whale, one breathtakingly beautiful sunset, and not much else before his breath was actually taken away.
--
“Did you know him?”
Sanji nods, faintly. “I knew him.” He is unable to look away from the man in the coffin. He’s never been able to appropriately picture what an older Zoro would look like, and now here he is. He knows that this unmoving image will most likely replace the lively one of his memories, and he’s saddened by this knowledge. Although, Zoro is rather handsome now. He reaches out, his fingertips almost touch the cold cheek, but he hesitates. “Nami, could I do this one alone?”
Nami hesitates, as well. She trusts the Pie Maker, usually, but she sense there are emotions involved here. And emotions, Nami has learned, lead to trouble. “All right,” she says, as she heads for the door. “I’ll keep watch for the funeral director. Remember, you only have one minute.”
Sanji does not need the reminder. He knows the time restraints on this reunion, and he resents them. He wants to speak with Zoro for hours, for days, not about his death, but about his life. He wants to know what books Zoro’s read, what his favorite sound is, if he likes pie. He wants to hear about his proudest accomplishment and his biggest regret. He wants so much, and is allowed so little.
With a silent sigh, he reaches out again, and touches Zoro.
Zoro surges to life more violently than Sanji expects, and nearly topples the coffin over in his haste to escape it. Sanji quickly steps back to prevent any accidental contact that would give their brief moment a premature end.
“Zoro, calm down!”
Once he’s on his feet, the other man looks at him, his dark eyes narrowed and not completely focused. “Who are you?”
“It’s me. It’s Sanji.”
“Sanji?” Zoro almost smiles and Sanji’s heart trips. “What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you-” He stops, realizing. “I died. Didn’t I?”
“And I need you to tell me who killed you.” Sanji glances at his watch. “You have a minute. Less.”
“That’s not a lot of time.” Zoro frowns. “But it doesn’t matter, because I don’t know who killed me. I was going back to my cabin, but it was a longer walk than it should’ve been-”
It was a longer walk than it should’ve been because Zoro, who was directionally challenged, got lost. After wandering aimlessly, he ended up outside where he stopped, leaned against the railing, and looked at the stars. That is, until his view of the stars was obscured by the bag that was suddenly around his head.
“I turned around, but it was dark, and whoever it was, I couldn’t see them through the plastic. I blacked out, and now…” He trails off with a shrug “Now what?”
“Now?” Something tightens in Sanji’s chest. “Now I touch you again, and you go back to being dead.”
“Ah.” Zoro doesn’t look quite as disappointed as Sanji feels. “Well. Since I’m dying again, I might as well confess something, right?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “It’s nice that you’re the one I’m seeing before I go.” He does smile, then, just a little. “I’m kinda glad.”
Sanji finds himself smiling back, as he also confesses. “You were my first kiss.”
“Mine too.” Zoro looks mildly amused, then more-than-mildly hopeful. “First and last?”
Symmetry, Sanji thinks, can never be more perfect than this. His footsteps are nearly silent on the funeral home’s carpet as he steps close. He looks at Zoro’s lips, remembers how nice they felt pressed chastely against his. He feels the heat from Zoro’s body, and the thought of it going cold again is almost more than Sanji can bear. He hears his watch ticking.
--
The minute is up.
Nami glances over her shoulder as Sanji comes out of the little room. “Well?”
“He was suffocated with a plastic bag,” Sanji says. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it, like he always does after talking to dead people. “Didn’t know who did it.”
“Dammit,” grumbles Nami, who now has to do her job.
A hearse arrives as their car leaves. The coffin is taken to the East Blue Cemetery, where it is buried with little ceremony. Later, the funeral home director will be found in the bathroom, inexplicably dead. Later, Sanji will return and park his car in the back, where Zoro will be hiding in the bushes, patiently waiting for him.
--
Tony Chopper finds the scent of once-death on the man his master brings home. It is a familiar scent, as it is part of his own make-up of scents, and he is drawn to the man immediately. He receives a hesitant pet and nearly weeps doggy tears of joy. A scratch behind the ears, and he nearly melts. A rub on his belly, and he’s a writhing like a whore on the floor.
There’s a touch of wonder in Zoro’s voice when he says, “He looks just like-”
“He is.” Sanji, standing apart from them with his hands behind his back, smiles as he watches the two beings he loves most in the world love each other.
“He doesn’t look any older. And he’s starving for attention, he’s-” Zoro looks up at the Pie Maker’s faltering smile, and understands. “Oh.” He looks back down at the dog, who is gradually recognizing other scents (pecans, for instance) on this man and remembering the boy who lived across the street. “So, you do this often?”
“I bring people back from the dead often, as often as Nami needs me to, yes.” He sits on the sofa, where he will sleep tonight, and sits on his hands, so he will not be tempted to touch. “But you and Tony Chopper are the only ones I’ve kept alive longer than a minute.” (This is, of course, a lie. But he knows that if he tells Zoro about his father, the truth will keep trickling out like a broken faucet, and he will also tell him about Kuina. And that is certain to ruin his chances of having the already highly unusual relationship of the romantic sort that he hopes to have with this man.)
Zoro looks at him again. “Why?”
“Because-”
Because what? What can he say?
“Because by keeping you alive, someone else has to die” isn’t the kind of thing you tell a person who has just gone through the traumatic event of dying-and-then-being-not-dead, and it also isn’t the kind of thing Sanji wants weighing on Zoro’s conscience.
“Because I love you” or “Because I need you” is too much too soon, although he already longs to say the words, longs to hear them be reciprocated.
He can’t think of a good answer, so he busies himself with a cigarette. He has a feeling this smoking habit is going to steadily worsen.
--
Gin hears about Roronoa Zoro’s death, again, on the morning news. Morbidly fascinated by the mysterious murder, he’s been following the story, although there isn’t much to follow. There are no suspects, there are no leads, there’s just a dead man.
A dead man who looks an awful lot like the obviously-not-dead man who enters the Pie Hole with Tony Chopper.
When the Pie Maker starts to walk quickly over to this man, Gin walks with him, curious. He doesn’t get terribly far.
“Go serve the pies,” the Pie Maker hisses over his shoulder.
Gin serves the pies, but he watches as the Pie Maker leads the man and the dog back into the kitchen, without touching them, and he wonders.
--
“Dammit, Zoro.”
“I got bored.” This is half of the truth. The other half is that Zoro, who only meant to take Tony Chopper for a walk around the block, got somewhat lost when trying to find the right apartment, so he followed Tony Chopper, who followed the smell of the Pie Maker.
“Someone could’ve seen you!”
“No one saw me.”
Someone saw him. At the moment Zoro was opening the door of the Pie Hole, Nami was opening the door of her car.
--
“Dammit, Sanji.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I was right outside that door.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It could’ve been me who died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Your excuse better be damn good.”
His excuse is damn good, but only, perhaps, to him. He studies the ceiling while Nami purses her lips and hands him another green folder.
“We’re going to the morgue. Do not bring him.”
--
The facts were these. Lola, consultant at the Thrilling Bridal Salon on Rolling Street, was obsessed with getting married. This was fortunate for those lucky ladies in love who sought her advice on rhinestones and taffeta and whether they could pull of strapless and how long their train should be. But it was unfortunate for Lola, herself, who would never be married. She would never be married for two reasons. The first reason: no one wanted to marry her. And the second: after hours, while she was sucking in her gut and trying on a dress three sizes too small, Lola was murdered.
--
“What part of do not bring him didn’t you understand?”
This time, Sanji studies the floor. Zoro gives Nami a blank stare, and Nami decides that the only thing she’ll find tolerable about this man-who-should-be-dead is his hair, which is green, her favorite color.
“Fine, fine. Just don’t say anything.” She sighs, and motions for Sanji to get on with it. “Get on with it.”
When Lola’s eyes open, they are wide and frantic and afraid, until they see Zoro. “Say, aren’t you-”
“No time.” Nami gets impatient when she’s annoyed. “You’re dead, I’m sorry, now can you tell us who killed you?”
“I’m dead?” Lola looks understandably distraught. “Oh, and right before my wedding!”
“When were you getting married?” Zoro asks, and Nami is awfully close to punching him, right in the face.
“Well, we hadn’t set a date yet. We were going to, but my fiancée went-”
“Please. Who killed you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I couldn’t see them. I was putting on the perfect wedding dress when I heard someone behind me. We were closed, but as I turned around to tell them, they put a plastic bag over my head.”
“A plastic bag?” Sanji looks at Zoro, who is looking at nothing, recalling his own death.
“Yes.” She sniffles. “Will you tell my Absalom that I love him? And that he’s not allowed to marry anyone, ever?” She sniffles again. “If only we’d had more time. But he was acting so strange, and he then he suddenly decided to go on that Thousand Sunny cruise…”
Nami snaps her fingers. A combination of “aha”, and “I’m going to get paid twice for finding one guy”, and “all right, a minute’s up.”
Lola doesn’t seem to notice. She’s frowning at Zoro, as she remembers. “Wait, the cruise! That’s how I know y-” She doesn’t finish, dead once again at the touch of Sanji’s finger.
--
Back at the Pie Hole, when Gin asks who the green-haired man is, the Pie Maker tells him to go out and buy pecans. He looks at Zoro, who is sitting in a booth and wearing a pair of sunglasses, and considers the aforementioned green hair. He catches Gin before he leaves and tells him to buy a hat, too.
Zoro is thinking while he is sitting in the booth and wearing the pair of sunglasses. He is thinking about many things, but mostly, he is thinking about murder. His murder, to be exact, but also Lola’s. He is thinking about plastic bags. And also, he is thinking about people. He is thinking about the Pie Maker. He is thinking about Uncle Mihawk. He is thinking about Aunt Perona.
And somewhere, someone else is thinking about Aunt Perona, too.
--
When Nami comes to the Pie Hole the next day, she tells them she’s found a connection: “Teddy bears.”
Lola and Perona, who were roommates for four years at the Florian College for Girls, once had a teddy bear business. They made teddy bears in overalls, in scrubs, in raincoats, in police uniforms, in (per Lola’s request) wedding gowns. They sold the bears to the other girls, to the girls’ boyfriends, to their professors. They sold all but one.
--
It’s evening in East Blue and the house of Sanji’s childhood looks especially dark and empty. He looks away from it, looks instead at the house they’re parked outside of, and drums his nervous fingers against the box of raspberry pie in his lap.
“Tell him,” Nami says as she opens her door and steps out.
“He knows.” Sanji turns his head and sighs at the man in the backseat. “You have to stay here.”
“I know.” Zoro spares one wistful glance out the window before sliding down so he’ll be out of sight.
Sanji finds himself hating that look. He doesn’t want the man he loves to look sad, ever, but he supposes that sadness must come somewhat naturally after dying. He longs to say something comforting. Most of all, he longs to touch him. But he can’t, of course, touch him, and Nami is giving him a sharp look, anyway.
--
Mihawk and Perona do not like to leave their house. They prefer the dimly lit comfort that it provides to the bright harshness of the outside world. They pass the time with old movies, ginger and brandy coffee, and their hobbies. Mihawk has the 666 swords he’s been collecting since watching Rob Roy, and Perona has her stuffed animals.
“Lola sent Bearsy to me three weeks ago.” Perona shows them the one teddy bear that was never sold, worn with age and covered in patches. “I told her that Zoro-” She pauses, and her lower lip trembles. “I told her that Zoro was going on a cruise, and she said I should give Bearsy to him and he could take pictures…”
Sanji nods, carefully cutting even slices of pie. “Like the traveling gnome.”
“Yes, but gnomes aren’t cute like Bearsy is.”
“Zoro didn’t have a camera.” Mihawk sets his brandy glass down. “And he didn’t care much for cute things.”
“He might’ve,” Perona’s painted lips frown, “if not for you and your swords.”
Mihawk ignores her. He accepts the pie from the Pie Maker and his eyes are piercing when he says, “I recognize you. Why is that?”
“I used to live across the street.” Sanji refuses to sound as intimidated as he may or may not actually feel.
“You did?” Nami asks.
“You did!” Perona remembers.
“That’s right. Zoro wouldn’t shut up about you.” Mihawk leans back, his fork giving the pie an unnecessary stab. “Even after you’d left.”
“I didn’t leave.” To Sanji, it feels like that still tender memory is being stabbed along with the pie, and any maybe-fear of the man with the hawk-like stare is gone, for a moment, at least. “I was sent away.”
“Ah, yes. But you never came back, did you?”
“Miss Perona,” Nami interrupts, getting back to business. “Had you met Lola’s fiancée?”
“No. I only spoke with her over the phone for the past…several years.” 7 years and 18 weeks to be exact. “Why?”
“We have reason to believe he was involved in her murder.” She waits, lets that process. “And Zoro’s.”
“Why…why would he kill Zoro?”
--
This is why. Absalom, when he wasn’t busy avoiding Lola and her talk of marriage, did occasional favors for certain unsavory characters. Gecko Moria, drug lord, was one such unsavory character. With Lola chasing him around constantly, Absalom found he had to creative about where he hid the bags of expensive white powder.
When his latest stash went missing, he promised-through the bile rising up in his throat-to buy Lola an engagement ring if she told him where that old teddy bear was. Minutes later, thinking Bearsy would be traversing the seas with Roronoa Zoro, he was booking a Thousand Sunny cruise.
When he killed Zoro, took the key to his cabin and searched it, he returned home teddy-bear-less, disappointed, desperate, frustrated, and angry. The result? Lola’s cold, dead body in a wedding gown.
And a bear that still needed to be obtained.
--
Zoro’s bedroom window has been left open. Considering this a sign that he’s just not meant to sit around and wait in the car, he climbs up the trellis, quickly, quietly. It’s a strange feeling, standing inside a room that is still his and yet isn’t, really. He wonders what it will be like in here a month, two months, three months from now. Three years from now. The thought makes his heart ache and he looks over his belongings to distract himself, runs his fingertips over them oh-so-lightly.
The muffled conversation from downstairs reaches his ears, and at that moment, he wants nothing more than to hear his aunt and uncle’s voices again. This desire is so great that he fails to notice that the door is already open, left ajar. Fails to notice that he isn’t alone upstairs.
The man in the hallway is tall and wearing dark clothes and his familiar outline causes a horrible sinking feeling in Zoro’s stomach. He pushes on the door a little harder than he intends to, and it creaks. The man turns and his eyes go wide, and he seems to forget where he is and what he’s doing when he growls out in shock.
“It’s you!”
--
Mihawk is up and grabbing the closest sword in an instant. Sanji’s heart stops; he barely registers Perona’s squeal of surprise and Nami’s glare that promises pain for both him and the man who-should-be-dead.
“Wait!” Sanji runs after him. His hand outreached as if that’s going to stop him, but it doesn’t stop him, and it doesn’t matter.
He hears the sound of blade stabbing through cloth, and knows he’s too late.
--
It can’t be said whether it was the sword or the fear that kept Absalom pinned to the wall until the police arrived, but as his hands are cuffed, he swears to them, “I saw him. I saw his ghost. He was there. His ghost.”
Perona protests when they take Bearsy for evidence, but Nami assures her he’ll be returned once he’s drug-free. She’s already mentally counting the money she’s made.
Sanji is standing in Zoro’s room. His fingers hover over the spots Zoro has just touched.
“Are you hoping to see a ghost, too?”
Sanji looks over his shoulder and meets Mihawk’s eyes. “I didn’t come back,” he says. “But I thought about him everyday.”
Mihawk hums, thoughtfully, around the rim of his brandy glass. “The pie was good. Zoro’s favorite was pecan.”
--
At this very moment, sitting in a booth in the Pie Hole, the once-dead Zoro is looking outside the window and watching the Pie Maker smoke a cigarette. Though he misses his old life and knows he always will, he is grateful for this second chance. He wishes he and the Pie Maker could touch, so he could show him just how grateful he is. He taps at the glass with his knuckles, and presses his hand against it when the Pie Maker is looking at him.
Sanji drops his cigarette. He steps closer to the window and lines his hand up with Zoro’s. Palm to palm, fingers to fingers.
Then, lips meeting glass and breath fogging it faintly, they pretend that they are sharing their second kiss.
Fandom: One Piece characters with Pushing Daisies plot
Pairing/Character: Zoro/Sanji (or Sanji/Zoro; there’s no sexing, so it doesn’t really matter, does it?), Nami, Chopper, Gin (one-sided Gin~>Sanji), Lola, Perona, Mihawk, Absalom, Zeff, Kuina, mention of Gecko Moria
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: One Piece, Pushing Daisies, and their characters/ideas do not belong to me.
Summary: AU; the Pie Maker has two talents. One is making pies. The other is bringing the dead back to life.
A/N: First in a potential series. Much like with Flash Forward, this is to ease my longing for more Pushing Daisies; but unlike with Flash Forward, I don’t have a clear storyline in mind. So I’ll just write more whenever something comes to me.
A/N #2: My math is probably off here and there. IDGAF.
At this very moment, in the kitchen of the Pie Hole, Sanji is 19 years, 32 weeks, 5 days, and 50 minutes old. Sanji, also known as the Pie Maker, has a talent for making pies. The Pie Hole pies are the best pies in the city of Grand Line. The fruit used in those pies-the strawberries, cherries, apples, blueberries, just to name a few-were the ripest, sweetest fruits with the tastiest flavors that were, quite literally, everlasting.
This is because Sanji has another talent.
The peaches sitting on the table beside the waiting-to-be-filled pie crust are old, soft, and moldy. That is, until Sanji touches them. Gently held between the Pie Maker’s fingers, they become the freshest peaches that have ever been.
--
9 years, 4 weeks, 1 day, and 22 minutes ago, Sanji discovered he could bring things back to life when he found his dog, Tony Chopper, lying dead in the road. The moment his hand touched the blood-matted fur, his beloved canine friend was on his feet and running toward the sound of an ice cream truck. Young Sanji, dizzy with aborted grief and wonder, did not notice the bird that dropped dead from the sky a minute later.
This was one of the rules of Sanji’s gift. He could only bring something dead back to life for one minute without consequence. Any longer, and something else had to die. At that moment, young Sanji did not know that.
What young Sanji did know was this: he was in love with the boy who lived across the street. The boy who lived across the street was Zoro. Zoro was 36 weeks, 2 days, and 15 minutes older than Sanji. He lived with his Uncle Mihawk and Aunt Perona, who were older than everyone involved. (Except for young Sanji’s not-so-young father, Zeff, who was deeply involved.) He also lived with his sister, Kuina, also involved, perhaps quite as deeply.
It was at the moment young Sanji was watching the rather active Zoro do pull-ups on a pecan tree branch, when Zeff and Kuina got so deeply involved. It was a burst blood vessel that killed Zeff the first time. Sanji saw his father collapse in the reflection of the window and he temporarily forgot about Zoro. He temporarily forgot about everything, everything but his mysterious talent.
One touch to Zeff’s cheek, and young Sanji’s father was warm and alive and grumbling about slippery kitchen floors.
One minute later, across the street, Kuina’s heart stopped.
And that night, when Zeff consolingly tousled young Sanji’s blond hair after tucking him into bed, another rule of Sanji’s gift became tragically clear. While the first touch brought life, the second brought death, again, forever.
Over the next 3 days, two bodies were buried and arrangements were made for the orphaned Sanji (and Tony Chopper) to be sent to work in the kitchens of the Orbit Boarding School for Boys. And somehow, some time between the mourning and the packing and the body-burying and arranging, young Sanji met Zoro beneath the pecan tree and the heartbroken sweethearts shared a sweet kiss.
--
Gin wonders what it would be like to kiss the Pie Maker. This is something he wonders often, but will never find out. He does not know that the reason why he will never find out is that the Pie Maker is still in love with the boy who lived across the street. He thinks that the reason is, simply, the Pie Maker is not interested in men that way. This is not a difficult conclusion for Gin, a waiter at the Pie Hole (in fact, the only waiter at the Pie Hole), to come to. The Pie Maker is always extremely, yet unobtrusively, kind to women, girls, and ladies. He gives them his most charming smiles, asks them about their day, and tells them all that they are beautiful. The Pie Maker does these things, not because he is interested in them that way, but because of the immense guilt he feels for inadvertently killing Kuina, the girl who meant the most to the boy who meant the most to him.
Gin wonders, also often, if the Pie Maker dates anyone. The Pie Maker does not. His closest confidante, as always, is Tony Chopper, the once-dead dog. Tony Chopper stays loyal to his sweet-smelling master, even though he cannot pet or scratch him or give his belly a nice rub.
Recently, however, there has been Nami.
Private Investigator Nami came to the Pie Hole 30 weeks, 4 days, and 1 minute ago when she followed the smell of orange meringue pie. (The smell of oranges is Nami’s second favorite smell. The thing she loves to smell the most is money.) She continues to come to the Pie Hole for something else entirely.
Nami is the only other human being who knows of Sanji’s talent. The bringing-people-back-to-life talent, not the pie-baking talent, just to be clear. Nami can do her job, and she can do her job well, but she can do her job much faster if she can ask dead people how they died. She can say that she uses Sanji’s assistance so that she can more quickly provide grieving families with the information they need in order for them to move on with their lives. But the truth is, she uses Sanji’s assistance so that she can more quickly provide families with the information they need in order for them to pay her.
This is what brings her to the Pie Hole today.
Nami is sitting in her usual booth with a half-eaten slice of her usual pie when Sanji is able to leave the kitchen and join her. He looks uneasy.
“You look uneasy,” she says.
“Are you here for a friendly chat about pie or perhaps the lovely new dress you’re wearing that truly brings out the color of your eyes?”
“No.”
“Then I’m uneasy.”
She smiles in an uncomforting manner as she slides a green file across the table. “There’s a body.”
“What kind of body?”
“A dead one. Found in a lifeboat belonging to a Thousand Sunny cruise ship. The remaining family, an uncle and an aunt, want to know what happened to their nephew. They live in some suburb called East Blue-”
“East Blue?”
Nami arches a delicately curious eyebrow. “You know East Blue?”
He lived in East Blue. “I’ve heard of it.” Swallowing the lump of dread in his throat, he asks, “This dead body, does it have a name?”
“Roronoa Zoro.”
--
The facts were these. Roronoa Zoro, 19 years, 48 weeks, 2 days, and 480 minutes old, loved his reclusive uncle and aunt, but was growing tired of spending his life caring for them. So he booked a Thousand Sunny cruise, eager to see new sights. He saw a seemingly endless stretch of sparkling sea, a breaching whale, one breathtakingly beautiful sunset, and not much else before his breath was actually taken away.
--
“Did you know him?”
Sanji nods, faintly. “I knew him.” He is unable to look away from the man in the coffin. He’s never been able to appropriately picture what an older Zoro would look like, and now here he is. He knows that this unmoving image will most likely replace the lively one of his memories, and he’s saddened by this knowledge. Although, Zoro is rather handsome now. He reaches out, his fingertips almost touch the cold cheek, but he hesitates. “Nami, could I do this one alone?”
Nami hesitates, as well. She trusts the Pie Maker, usually, but she sense there are emotions involved here. And emotions, Nami has learned, lead to trouble. “All right,” she says, as she heads for the door. “I’ll keep watch for the funeral director. Remember, you only have one minute.”
Sanji does not need the reminder. He knows the time restraints on this reunion, and he resents them. He wants to speak with Zoro for hours, for days, not about his death, but about his life. He wants to know what books Zoro’s read, what his favorite sound is, if he likes pie. He wants to hear about his proudest accomplishment and his biggest regret. He wants so much, and is allowed so little.
With a silent sigh, he reaches out again, and touches Zoro.
Zoro surges to life more violently than Sanji expects, and nearly topples the coffin over in his haste to escape it. Sanji quickly steps back to prevent any accidental contact that would give their brief moment a premature end.
“Zoro, calm down!”
Once he’s on his feet, the other man looks at him, his dark eyes narrowed and not completely focused. “Who are you?”
“It’s me. It’s Sanji.”
“Sanji?” Zoro almost smiles and Sanji’s heart trips. “What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you-” He stops, realizing. “I died. Didn’t I?”
“And I need you to tell me who killed you.” Sanji glances at his watch. “You have a minute. Less.”
“That’s not a lot of time.” Zoro frowns. “But it doesn’t matter, because I don’t know who killed me. I was going back to my cabin, but it was a longer walk than it should’ve been-”
It was a longer walk than it should’ve been because Zoro, who was directionally challenged, got lost. After wandering aimlessly, he ended up outside where he stopped, leaned against the railing, and looked at the stars. That is, until his view of the stars was obscured by the bag that was suddenly around his head.
“I turned around, but it was dark, and whoever it was, I couldn’t see them through the plastic. I blacked out, and now…” He trails off with a shrug “Now what?”
“Now?” Something tightens in Sanji’s chest. “Now I touch you again, and you go back to being dead.”
“Ah.” Zoro doesn’t look quite as disappointed as Sanji feels. “Well. Since I’m dying again, I might as well confess something, right?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “It’s nice that you’re the one I’m seeing before I go.” He does smile, then, just a little. “I’m kinda glad.”
Sanji finds himself smiling back, as he also confesses. “You were my first kiss.”
“Mine too.” Zoro looks mildly amused, then more-than-mildly hopeful. “First and last?”
Symmetry, Sanji thinks, can never be more perfect than this. His footsteps are nearly silent on the funeral home’s carpet as he steps close. He looks at Zoro’s lips, remembers how nice they felt pressed chastely against his. He feels the heat from Zoro’s body, and the thought of it going cold again is almost more than Sanji can bear. He hears his watch ticking.
--
The minute is up.
Nami glances over her shoulder as Sanji comes out of the little room. “Well?”
“He was suffocated with a plastic bag,” Sanji says. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it, like he always does after talking to dead people. “Didn’t know who did it.”
“Dammit,” grumbles Nami, who now has to do her job.
A hearse arrives as their car leaves. The coffin is taken to the East Blue Cemetery, where it is buried with little ceremony. Later, the funeral home director will be found in the bathroom, inexplicably dead. Later, Sanji will return and park his car in the back, where Zoro will be hiding in the bushes, patiently waiting for him.
--
Tony Chopper finds the scent of once-death on the man his master brings home. It is a familiar scent, as it is part of his own make-up of scents, and he is drawn to the man immediately. He receives a hesitant pet and nearly weeps doggy tears of joy. A scratch behind the ears, and he nearly melts. A rub on his belly, and he’s a writhing like a whore on the floor.
There’s a touch of wonder in Zoro’s voice when he says, “He looks just like-”
“He is.” Sanji, standing apart from them with his hands behind his back, smiles as he watches the two beings he loves most in the world love each other.
“He doesn’t look any older. And he’s starving for attention, he’s-” Zoro looks up at the Pie Maker’s faltering smile, and understands. “Oh.” He looks back down at the dog, who is gradually recognizing other scents (pecans, for instance) on this man and remembering the boy who lived across the street. “So, you do this often?”
“I bring people back from the dead often, as often as Nami needs me to, yes.” He sits on the sofa, where he will sleep tonight, and sits on his hands, so he will not be tempted to touch. “But you and Tony Chopper are the only ones I’ve kept alive longer than a minute.” (This is, of course, a lie. But he knows that if he tells Zoro about his father, the truth will keep trickling out like a broken faucet, and he will also tell him about Kuina. And that is certain to ruin his chances of having the already highly unusual relationship of the romantic sort that he hopes to have with this man.)
Zoro looks at him again. “Why?”
“Because-”
Because what? What can he say?
“Because by keeping you alive, someone else has to die” isn’t the kind of thing you tell a person who has just gone through the traumatic event of dying-and-then-being-not-dead, and it also isn’t the kind of thing Sanji wants weighing on Zoro’s conscience.
“Because I love you” or “Because I need you” is too much too soon, although he already longs to say the words, longs to hear them be reciprocated.
He can’t think of a good answer, so he busies himself with a cigarette. He has a feeling this smoking habit is going to steadily worsen.
--
Gin hears about Roronoa Zoro’s death, again, on the morning news. Morbidly fascinated by the mysterious murder, he’s been following the story, although there isn’t much to follow. There are no suspects, there are no leads, there’s just a dead man.
A dead man who looks an awful lot like the obviously-not-dead man who enters the Pie Hole with Tony Chopper.
When the Pie Maker starts to walk quickly over to this man, Gin walks with him, curious. He doesn’t get terribly far.
“Go serve the pies,” the Pie Maker hisses over his shoulder.
Gin serves the pies, but he watches as the Pie Maker leads the man and the dog back into the kitchen, without touching them, and he wonders.
--
“Dammit, Zoro.”
“I got bored.” This is half of the truth. The other half is that Zoro, who only meant to take Tony Chopper for a walk around the block, got somewhat lost when trying to find the right apartment, so he followed Tony Chopper, who followed the smell of the Pie Maker.
“Someone could’ve seen you!”
“No one saw me.”
Someone saw him. At the moment Zoro was opening the door of the Pie Hole, Nami was opening the door of her car.
--
“Dammit, Sanji.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I was right outside that door.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It could’ve been me who died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Your excuse better be damn good.”
His excuse is damn good, but only, perhaps, to him. He studies the ceiling while Nami purses her lips and hands him another green folder.
“We’re going to the morgue. Do not bring him.”
--
The facts were these. Lola, consultant at the Thrilling Bridal Salon on Rolling Street, was obsessed with getting married. This was fortunate for those lucky ladies in love who sought her advice on rhinestones and taffeta and whether they could pull of strapless and how long their train should be. But it was unfortunate for Lola, herself, who would never be married. She would never be married for two reasons. The first reason: no one wanted to marry her. And the second: after hours, while she was sucking in her gut and trying on a dress three sizes too small, Lola was murdered.
--
“What part of do not bring him didn’t you understand?”
This time, Sanji studies the floor. Zoro gives Nami a blank stare, and Nami decides that the only thing she’ll find tolerable about this man-who-should-be-dead is his hair, which is green, her favorite color.
“Fine, fine. Just don’t say anything.” She sighs, and motions for Sanji to get on with it. “Get on with it.”
When Lola’s eyes open, they are wide and frantic and afraid, until they see Zoro. “Say, aren’t you-”
“No time.” Nami gets impatient when she’s annoyed. “You’re dead, I’m sorry, now can you tell us who killed you?”
“I’m dead?” Lola looks understandably distraught. “Oh, and right before my wedding!”
“When were you getting married?” Zoro asks, and Nami is awfully close to punching him, right in the face.
“Well, we hadn’t set a date yet. We were going to, but my fiancée went-”
“Please. Who killed you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I couldn’t see them. I was putting on the perfect wedding dress when I heard someone behind me. We were closed, but as I turned around to tell them, they put a plastic bag over my head.”
“A plastic bag?” Sanji looks at Zoro, who is looking at nothing, recalling his own death.
“Yes.” She sniffles. “Will you tell my Absalom that I love him? And that he’s not allowed to marry anyone, ever?” She sniffles again. “If only we’d had more time. But he was acting so strange, and he then he suddenly decided to go on that Thousand Sunny cruise…”
Nami snaps her fingers. A combination of “aha”, and “I’m going to get paid twice for finding one guy”, and “all right, a minute’s up.”
Lola doesn’t seem to notice. She’s frowning at Zoro, as she remembers. “Wait, the cruise! That’s how I know y-” She doesn’t finish, dead once again at the touch of Sanji’s finger.
--
Back at the Pie Hole, when Gin asks who the green-haired man is, the Pie Maker tells him to go out and buy pecans. He looks at Zoro, who is sitting in a booth and wearing a pair of sunglasses, and considers the aforementioned green hair. He catches Gin before he leaves and tells him to buy a hat, too.
Zoro is thinking while he is sitting in the booth and wearing the pair of sunglasses. He is thinking about many things, but mostly, he is thinking about murder. His murder, to be exact, but also Lola’s. He is thinking about plastic bags. And also, he is thinking about people. He is thinking about the Pie Maker. He is thinking about Uncle Mihawk. He is thinking about Aunt Perona.
And somewhere, someone else is thinking about Aunt Perona, too.
--
When Nami comes to the Pie Hole the next day, she tells them she’s found a connection: “Teddy bears.”
Lola and Perona, who were roommates for four years at the Florian College for Girls, once had a teddy bear business. They made teddy bears in overalls, in scrubs, in raincoats, in police uniforms, in (per Lola’s request) wedding gowns. They sold the bears to the other girls, to the girls’ boyfriends, to their professors. They sold all but one.
--
It’s evening in East Blue and the house of Sanji’s childhood looks especially dark and empty. He looks away from it, looks instead at the house they’re parked outside of, and drums his nervous fingers against the box of raspberry pie in his lap.
“Tell him,” Nami says as she opens her door and steps out.
“He knows.” Sanji turns his head and sighs at the man in the backseat. “You have to stay here.”
“I know.” Zoro spares one wistful glance out the window before sliding down so he’ll be out of sight.
Sanji finds himself hating that look. He doesn’t want the man he loves to look sad, ever, but he supposes that sadness must come somewhat naturally after dying. He longs to say something comforting. Most of all, he longs to touch him. But he can’t, of course, touch him, and Nami is giving him a sharp look, anyway.
--
Mihawk and Perona do not like to leave their house. They prefer the dimly lit comfort that it provides to the bright harshness of the outside world. They pass the time with old movies, ginger and brandy coffee, and their hobbies. Mihawk has the 666 swords he’s been collecting since watching Rob Roy, and Perona has her stuffed animals.
“Lola sent Bearsy to me three weeks ago.” Perona shows them the one teddy bear that was never sold, worn with age and covered in patches. “I told her that Zoro-” She pauses, and her lower lip trembles. “I told her that Zoro was going on a cruise, and she said I should give Bearsy to him and he could take pictures…”
Sanji nods, carefully cutting even slices of pie. “Like the traveling gnome.”
“Yes, but gnomes aren’t cute like Bearsy is.”
“Zoro didn’t have a camera.” Mihawk sets his brandy glass down. “And he didn’t care much for cute things.”
“He might’ve,” Perona’s painted lips frown, “if not for you and your swords.”
Mihawk ignores her. He accepts the pie from the Pie Maker and his eyes are piercing when he says, “I recognize you. Why is that?”
“I used to live across the street.” Sanji refuses to sound as intimidated as he may or may not actually feel.
“You did?” Nami asks.
“You did!” Perona remembers.
“That’s right. Zoro wouldn’t shut up about you.” Mihawk leans back, his fork giving the pie an unnecessary stab. “Even after you’d left.”
“I didn’t leave.” To Sanji, it feels like that still tender memory is being stabbed along with the pie, and any maybe-fear of the man with the hawk-like stare is gone, for a moment, at least. “I was sent away.”
“Ah, yes. But you never came back, did you?”
“Miss Perona,” Nami interrupts, getting back to business. “Had you met Lola’s fiancée?”
“No. I only spoke with her over the phone for the past…several years.” 7 years and 18 weeks to be exact. “Why?”
“We have reason to believe he was involved in her murder.” She waits, lets that process. “And Zoro’s.”
“Why…why would he kill Zoro?”
--
This is why. Absalom, when he wasn’t busy avoiding Lola and her talk of marriage, did occasional favors for certain unsavory characters. Gecko Moria, drug lord, was one such unsavory character. With Lola chasing him around constantly, Absalom found he had to creative about where he hid the bags of expensive white powder.
When his latest stash went missing, he promised-through the bile rising up in his throat-to buy Lola an engagement ring if she told him where that old teddy bear was. Minutes later, thinking Bearsy would be traversing the seas with Roronoa Zoro, he was booking a Thousand Sunny cruise.
When he killed Zoro, took the key to his cabin and searched it, he returned home teddy-bear-less, disappointed, desperate, frustrated, and angry. The result? Lola’s cold, dead body in a wedding gown.
And a bear that still needed to be obtained.
--
Zoro’s bedroom window has been left open. Considering this a sign that he’s just not meant to sit around and wait in the car, he climbs up the trellis, quickly, quietly. It’s a strange feeling, standing inside a room that is still his and yet isn’t, really. He wonders what it will be like in here a month, two months, three months from now. Three years from now. The thought makes his heart ache and he looks over his belongings to distract himself, runs his fingertips over them oh-so-lightly.
The muffled conversation from downstairs reaches his ears, and at that moment, he wants nothing more than to hear his aunt and uncle’s voices again. This desire is so great that he fails to notice that the door is already open, left ajar. Fails to notice that he isn’t alone upstairs.
The man in the hallway is tall and wearing dark clothes and his familiar outline causes a horrible sinking feeling in Zoro’s stomach. He pushes on the door a little harder than he intends to, and it creaks. The man turns and his eyes go wide, and he seems to forget where he is and what he’s doing when he growls out in shock.
“It’s you!”
--
Mihawk is up and grabbing the closest sword in an instant. Sanji’s heart stops; he barely registers Perona’s squeal of surprise and Nami’s glare that promises pain for both him and the man who-should-be-dead.
“Wait!” Sanji runs after him. His hand outreached as if that’s going to stop him, but it doesn’t stop him, and it doesn’t matter.
He hears the sound of blade stabbing through cloth, and knows he’s too late.
--
It can’t be said whether it was the sword or the fear that kept Absalom pinned to the wall until the police arrived, but as his hands are cuffed, he swears to them, “I saw him. I saw his ghost. He was there. His ghost.”
Perona protests when they take Bearsy for evidence, but Nami assures her he’ll be returned once he’s drug-free. She’s already mentally counting the money she’s made.
Sanji is standing in Zoro’s room. His fingers hover over the spots Zoro has just touched.
“Are you hoping to see a ghost, too?”
Sanji looks over his shoulder and meets Mihawk’s eyes. “I didn’t come back,” he says. “But I thought about him everyday.”
Mihawk hums, thoughtfully, around the rim of his brandy glass. “The pie was good. Zoro’s favorite was pecan.”
--
At this very moment, sitting in a booth in the Pie Hole, the once-dead Zoro is looking outside the window and watching the Pie Maker smoke a cigarette. Though he misses his old life and knows he always will, he is grateful for this second chance. He wishes he and the Pie Maker could touch, so he could show him just how grateful he is. He taps at the glass with his knuckles, and presses his hand against it when the Pie Maker is looking at him.
Sanji drops his cigarette. He steps closer to the window and lines his hand up with Zoro’s. Palm to palm, fingers to fingers.
Then, lips meeting glass and breath fogging it faintly, they pretend that they are sharing their second kiss.