Property of Sanji 4

[meunda]

The Baratie is by far the oddest restaurant that Zoro has ever been in. Admittedly he’s not been in loads, mates don’t get their own money to spend and he was never supposed to leave the institute grounds anyway. That said, he and Nami had visited a few restaurants when they were younger and dined and dashed. Even with his, admittedly limited, experience nothing prepared him for this. The cooks all swore and fought with each other at the slightest provocation, and none of them looked in any way professional, they looked like a prison break out plan that involved dressing up as chefs to escape!

He’d expected too that Sanji would maybe talk business with the owner, perhaps this was a business he was invested in, and then introduce him to a few close friends that he might deem his family who would certainly be patrons, not any of these people, and then leave. He didn’t expect Sanji to just roll up his sleeves and get into cooking along with the others.

All Sanji had said was “This is Zoro, be nice. Oh god, give me that onion you bastard you’re mutilating it!” and that was it!

So now he’s standing there in the kitchen feeling awkward whilst trying to stay out of everyone’s way until an old man with the oddest braided moustache and the tallest chef’s hat that Zoro has ever seen hobbles in on a peg leg and looks at him assessingly.

“Is this him?” The old man asks with a grunt, his eyes lingering on the collar at Zoro’s throat.

“Who else would it be Zeff? His name is Zoro.” Sanji answers sarcastically as his knife flies through a bunch of herbs, answering Zoro’s earlier silent question about how a rich boy like Sanji could get calluses, he cooks, and he must do it a lot to get calluses like that.

“Hn.” Zeff grunts in a particularly un-illuminating way.

“Can I do anything to help then, since I’m here?” Zoro offers helpfully, he really doesn’t want to stand here all day doing nothing.

“I don’t know. Can you?” Zeff asks him with a raised bushy eyebrow.

“I can’t cook. But I can clean, or move heavy shit for you.” Zoro offers. He considers Zeff’s attitude a little more and Sanji’s too.

“Alternatively, you can bite me.” He adds and hears Sanji laugh loudly in the background again.

“Watch it seaweed head, I could kick your ass for that.” Zeff threatens, his eyes narrowing at him.

Zoro considers that and look at the old man, he’s broad and well built with a hint of old muscles. He’s missing half a leg below the knee but he can see dents and stains the in wood of his peg leg that can’t be explained by normal wear.

“Yeah, I bet you’d give a run for my money too. But you’d have done it already if you were going to.” Zoro says after a few moments of consideration.

“Hah! I like this guy, how did you find him? I thought that you said your shitty father was punishing you with this whole mate thing.” Zeff laughs, his moustache twitching in amusement.

“Robin, I guess.” Sanji shrugs, dumping the herbs that he’s done with into a simmering pot.

“Is there anything that woman doesn’t have her hand in?” Zeff chuckles.

“You can take the trash out and move the empty beer barrels outside so the drivers can pick ‘em up.” Zeff says turning back to him.

Zoro nods and gets to work. He doesn’t mind the manual labour at all, and it’s nice to feel useful whilst Sanji is cooking. He’s not too far through his job before he’s stopped by one of the other cooks.

“Oi, squidface.” The guy says stepping in his way.

“Squidface?!” Zoro balks both offended and confused.

“It’ll be nice having a dog around here, you’ll have to do whatever I tell you! Go unclog the toilet!” The guy laughs at him, ignoring his objection to the insult.

Zoro rolls his eyes, he’s familiar enough with this, the guy doesn’t actually care all that much if he does what he wants, he just wants the thrill of the power to be able to make him do it. He notices though that Sanji’s chopping has slowed and the blonde has tilted his head slightly in their direction, he’s listening.

“No I don’t.” Zoro states, giving the guy a deliberately bored look. As always, that throws the guy, it’s not how guys like that ever see this conversation going.

“Yes you do! You’ve got one of those on and I don’t!” The guy splutters and jabs at his collar, Zoro leans back away from the man’s grabby fingers. He really doesn’t like people touching his collar, even Luffy knows not to.

“Huh, you got a key to it bastard?” He retorts instead, thumbing the heavy golden padlock that hangs weightily at his throat.

“You have to do what I say!” The guy blusters irrationally. Zoro rolls his eyes again, this conversation is just going to go in circles now.

“Sanji, do I have to do what this guy says?” Zoro sighs reluctantly looking over at his master.

“Hell no, I never do.” Sanji says cockily.

“You jumped up sous-chef! Don’t spoil my fun!” The guy shouts at Sanji.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Neanderthal!” the blonde snarls back at him.

Zoro stands there in mingled surprise and amusement as Sanji and the chef shout increasingly elaborate and angry insults at each other, it’s almost like watching tennis volleys going back and forth.

“I should kick your ass for your insolence shrimp!” the guy snaps angrily, pushing right up into Sanji’s face by this time.

“If anyone’ll be doing any kicking here it’ll be me! Maybe I should rearrange your face for you, it could only be an improvement!” the blonde retorts.

Zoro grins and leaves them to it. He thinks that he’s starting to understand a little now about what Sanji meant about family. He always thought of Nami as family. He often didn’t like Nami, she was bossy and self important, mean with money and sneaky as a snake. But he loved her, she was dear to him and he’d kill anyone who hurt her. And despite what she said about him he knew from experience that she was his biggest defender to anyone who really meant him harm. That was what family was. Friends were people that you liked and hung out with, family were people that you loved in your bones even when you couldn’t stand them.

Watching Sanji and the other cook, he thinks that he must find out his name, he feels a little homesick for Nami. He misses her deeply.

Shoving down the note of sadness he walks out into the alleyway again with the empty metal barrel and stacks it with the others, he’s still got a few left to put out but he’ll be done soon. He looks up as some sense tells him that he’s being watched. Sure enough at the mouth of the alleyway are two skeevy looking guys walking towards him and he doesn’t like the way that they’re eyeing his collar.

“Hey look, it’s a little whore.” The first laughs meanly to the second. Zoro forces himself to relax and stand up a little straighter. He assesses the first guy, he’s taller than Zoro is and broad but not muscled really, a little weak looking. He does, however, have a metal baseball bat on his shoulder that is making Zoro wary. The other guy looks easy enough to beat in a fight, the kind of big guy who thinks that just because he’s big means that he’s strong when really he’s just broadly built and chubby.

“I’ve never seen him around here before. You think this joint owns him?” The other suggests eyeing the Baratie with what probably passes for thought in his head.

“Probably, I bet that they all take turns fucking him.” The first says dragging predatory eyes down Zoro, leaving him feeling dirty in a way that he knows from experience doesn’t wash off with soap and water.

“Hey, let me have go with him first.” The second guy says with a filthy grin as he advances closer down the alleyway towards him, he’s only six feet or so away now.

“No way! I’m not having your sloppy seconds!” The bat guy protests loudly, waving his bat around as he talks.

“How about you both just get lost so I don’t kick your asses?” Zoro growls at them.

“I’ll beat some respect into you, slut!” Baseball bat guy snarls, leaping for Zoro with his bat raised.

Zoro steps into the attack quickly, making the guy’s swing go wide. He ducks the bat and quickly shoots out with his hand and grabs the guy’s wrist. He slams his wrist hard enough into the brick wall to make baseball bat guy drop the offending weapon. He yanks the guy’s wrist back and punches him so hard in the elbow that he hears the joint explode.

He turns towards the other guy with the intention of threatening further harm to his friend if he doesn’t leave now, but the guy clearly doesn’t care. He’s on Zoro before he can react, grabbing a fistful of Zoro’s hair and slamming him face first into the wall. Zoro tastes blood.

He’s about to lash back with his head and splatter the guy’s nose across his face when he feels the guy’s hand yank from his hair and skid over his collar with a scream.

He spins to see the guy sprawled six feet down the alleyway, clutching at his ribs and groaning. Standing before him now, just where that guy had been a moment ago is Sanji. The blonde lowers his foot back to the ground, his balance shifting back to standing seamlessly and Zoro realises that the blonde some how kicked the guy that far. Sanji’s face is a picture of undiluted fury and Zoro can’t help but shrink back away from it against the wall, used as he is to associating that kind of rage from people like Sanji to unpleasant things that he can’t escape.

Sanji is the one person that he’s not allowed to fight off, and if Sanji’s violent streak is as bad as Usopp and Franky have been hinting there’s no promise that it’ll stop with that guy. But the blonde’s icy blue gaze turns to him and melts instantly, leaving the cook’s face a picture of gentle concern and worry.

“Zoro! You’re hurt!” the cook exclaims, reaching for him. To his shame he flinches when Sanji’s hand touches his cheek, it must be the adrenaline from the fight, nothing more. He’s not scared of Sanji. His senses flick back on and his face floods with pain, centring around his nose. His chin feels hot and wet and his mouth tastes like pennies. He presses the back of his hand to his face and pulls it away covered in crimson blood.

“Here.” Sanji says pressing a white handkerchief from his pocket into Zoro’s hand. He presses it to his bleeding nose hoping to staunch the flow.

“Is it broken? Are you okay?” Sanji asks, blue eyes wide with concern and one pale hand cupping Zoro’s jaw.

“It’s just bleeding is all. I’m fine, I’ve had far worse.” He says shrugging away from Sanji’s touch, his voice distorted by the handkerchief pressed to his bleeding nose. This doesn’t seem to ease the visage of worry on the blonde’s face though.

“You fucking whore, I’ll kill you!” Baseball bat thug snarls at him from the floor, clutching his broken arm.

“Say that again and I’ll kick your teeth in and cut out your tongue!” Sanji threatens the guy, his face turning vicious again.

Zoro winces and heads back inside past Sanji. He should probably get something to press against his nose that isn’t Sanji’s expensive snow white handkerchief, at the very least he should get his face over a sink. He makes his way through the bustling kitchen towards a large empty sink at the back and leans over it. He pulls the handkerchief from his face to discover that the blood is still freely flowing from his nose. He hates nosebleeds, they just go on forever, they’re almost as profusely bleeding as scalp wounds like that. But at least cuts to his head don’t stop him talking properly and fuck with his sense of taste for ages or make his eyes water instinctively. He breathes through his mouth over the steel sink as blood drips against the metal and he resists the urge to sniff and aerosolise blood into his throat and lungs.

“Zoro, I am so sorry. Those bastards will never come back here, I promise.” Sanji’s voice says by his ear as he presses a warm hand between his shoulder blades.

“It’s fine.” He says thickly and spits blood into the sink.

“It’s not fine.” Sanji disagrees and rubs circles into Zoro back in what he clearly thinks is a soothing gesture. He doesn’t care enough to stop the cook and if it makes him happy then great.

“I’ve had worse before. You always get guys like that.” He adds. Sanji’s hand stops at that for a second before resuming.

“You’ve got quite a punch on you.” Sanji says in an amused tone a few moments later. Zoro glances up over his shoulder and sees a secretive little grin on the blonde’s face.

“Well, you kicked that guy pretty far too.” Zoro shrugs and runs the tap. He washes the blood off of his chin and gently off of his nose too so as to not risk starting the full flow of bleeding up again.

“You should see me in a real fight.” Sanji says in a smug little tone, taking his hand from Zoro’s back now and leaning against the sink with his back and grinning at Zoro.

“Same.” Zoro agrees with a nod. He presses a paper towel to his nose, it comes back with almost no blood. It’s finally stopping.

Sanji glances back towards the door that leads to the alleyway and scowls.

“I heard those guys you know, I can’t believe that they said that to you!” Sanji fumes folding his arms huffily. Zoro’s gaze slides up to Sanji, the blonde is really irate, almost as if someone has insulted him personally instead of Zoro.

“Which bit?” He frowns. He’s no idea at what point Sanji came into the alleyway so he doesn’t know what the guy even heard. All he knows is that one moment he was alone in the fight, the next he got a face full of wall and then, suddenly, Sanji was there.

“Where that asshole called you a- a-” Sanji exclaims unable to even finish his sentence. Zoro’s eyes narrow at him, Sanji can’t even say what he is and yet he owns him.

“Whore?” He grumbles bitterly and rubs at his nose with a tissue. He’s not bleeding any more, he throws the tissue into the bin a little more forcefully than necessary.

“Yes! How dare they say that to you?!” Sanji insists looking at him wide eyed.

“It’s not like it’s not true.” Zoro points out with anger fuelled by frustration and shame. He glares and Sanji angrily but the blonde is just looking at him with wide blue-eyed horror. Zoro feels rage coil deeply in his belly, this rich guy will never understand what it’s like to be in his position, with all of his money he’ll never know what it’s like to be desperate or alone. He’ll never have to make hard choices in his life and live with the consequences, he’ll never have to look his morals in the eye and realise that he’ll have to compromise one. He realises with self-loathing that he’d actually started to warm to Sanji, how pathetic is that? All the blonde had done was be reasonably nice to him and he’d rolled over like a dog getting it’s belly rubbed.

“Zoro! Don’t say that, you’re not a…” Sanji trails off, again he can’t even say the word.

“A whore?! Sure I am, a whore is someone who has sex for money. They paid me when I agreed to wear this thing!” He snarls at the blonde, leaning into his space and using his size to intimidate the cook. The blonde stumbles backwards away from him.

“But that’s not the same! I mean, sure they paid you, but-” Sanji protests.

Zoro scowls at him. Sanji is so clean in his so called morality, he won’t pay anyone for sex, no never. And he wouldn’t force anyone to have sex, of course not. But he’s fine with paying for someone to live with him without their consent and, hey, if that person is grateful enough that they decide to have sex with you then that’s fine and totally different, isn’t it? Bullshit.

“Well, you bought me, and that’s what I’m for.” He growls and tries to push past the blonde. He needs to get out of here and he’s grateful for the fact that no one seems to be staring at him.

“Come back here! Listen to me!” Sanji shouts, grabbing his arm and hauling him back. Zoro relaxes into it and lets himself be pulled back. Sanji grabs him close and pulls at his jaw so that he has to look at him. Zoro makes eye contact but he knows that his eyes must be showing how he feels, how he hates Sanji.

“You’re a human being Zoro. You’re not for anything, you’re a person.” Sanji says quietly, looking at him meaningfully.

“Whatever you say, master.” He answers flatly.

Zoro supposes that Sanji’s expression could be called hurt, if the blonde had feelings of course, which he doesn’t, bastard. He pulls his arm back out of Sanji’s grip, the blonde’s fingers just fall limply away. He pushes past Sanji, snags another barrel from the ground and heads back out to the alleyway, he’ll take his chances out there again.

They don’t stay too long after that and by the time they get back to Sanji’s house it’s almost time to eat again and the blonde sets to cooking wordlessly. Zoro slides off elsewhere, not wanting to be around Sanji if he can help it. He wanders outside the house and finds a bench that looks out over the expansive grounds that the house is set in. He sighs to himself and watches the sun set.

Sanji must genuinely think that he’s mad, and he’s not all too sure that he’s not right about that. Mentally he knows his place, he knows what he signed and he knows what that makes him - as he said, the guy in the alleyway wasn’t exactly wrong. But still, despite all the urgings of his head his heart and his pride rebel at the idea. His pride refuses to let him be someone’s toy, someone’s plaything, and that disturbs him because he had thought he’d killed his foolish pride years ago. But at the same time something deep inside of him is urging him that Sanji isn’t what he keeps thinking that he is, his gut is trying to tell him that Sanji is no threat to him.

He snorts at his own foolishness. Sure, Sanji speaks prettily enough, he says the right things but he’s got no reason to believe him. And yet… the rich boy seems to have convinced a large part of him that it’s true. The way that he runs, the way that he relates to everyone at the Baratie, the way that Sanji speaks to him, none of those are things that fit into this idea of the sadistic pervert that Zoro had built up in his head over the years.

But, his head points out, a good man wouldn’t buy him in the first place. It wasn’t as if it was mandatory for rich people. And even if it had been Sanji’s father’s idea to buy him, the blonde could have refused surely? If he was really a good man and knew what Zoro was going to be there for he would have fought the idea. Again his gut is whispering to him that there’s more going on here than he knows.

The sliding glass doors behind him open, jolting him into alertness. He twists to look over his shoulder to see Sanji walking towards him with a plate and a glass. The blonde hesitates under his stare but then walks towards him a little more briskly.

“Dinner’s ready, I didn’t- you didn’t look like you wanted to eat inside with us. So… I thought I’d bring it out here for you.” Sanji explains as he comes to a stop by the bench.

“Although, if you do want to come inside you’re more than welcome. Whichever you want.” The blonde adds a little awkwardly.

Zoro says nothing and looks up at his master. He looks almost like he’s trying to apologise but doesn’t know how, he’s practically glowing with embarrassment and awkwardness, as if he was the one supposed seeking Zoro’s approval instead of the other way around.

“I still don’t really know what you like or anything, and you didn’t say, so I just made what Usopp asked for. It’s a chicken curry, it’s quite good. If you don’t like it though I’m sure I can make something else.” Sanji babbles and places the delicious smelling plate on the bench next to Zoro and the glass on the arm of the bench.

“Thanks.” He says simply.

Sanji looks at him in surprise and gratitude, probably pleased at having his increasingly awkward blathering interrupted. Sanji’s eyes drop down his face and settle on Zoro’s nose.

“You’re bruised, does it hurt?” Sanji asks reaching for him but his hand freezing halfway.

“I’m fine, like I said, I’ve had worse.” Zoro shrugs Sanji looks almost pained at hearing that again.

“Sorry, I’ll stop saying that if it upsets you so much.” Zoro says eyeing Sanji. He looks away and picks up his plate, spearing some chicken with his fork and blowing on it to cool it down.

“You don’t have to stop saying it if it’s true, I just wish it wasn’t. But it’s not like I can protect you from things that have already happened. I just don’t like the idea is all.” Sanji sighs and walks around the bench to sit on the other end of it.

Zoro shrugs and eats his chicken, what can he possibly say to that? The chicken is good, really good actually. It’s perhaps spicier than he’d usually have it but surprisingly nice, Sanji really does have a gift.

“Zeff seemed to like you by the way, particularly since you pissed of Patty and shouted at me. He has a soft spot for people who stand up for themselves.” Sanji adds, looking at him sidelong.

Zoro puts his plate down in his lap and asks the question that had been bothering him since they arrived at the Baratie earlier in the day.

“Who is Zeff? You said he was family but…” Zoro trails off, not wanting to say “that makes no sense”.

“Ah. Yes. He’s like a father to me, much more so than the man who actually calls himself that. He kind of was my father for a few years there, he pretty much adopted me.” The blonde says wistfully, wrapping his hands around his knee as he rests his foot on the bench and leans back, staring at the sunset.

“When I was younger, about ten or so, my mother and I had gone onto a ship. I can’t even remember why or where we were going, a lot of my memory then is a little… vague. The ship got caught in a storm and another ship pulled alongside us, I don’t remember why, but the storm tossed the ships together, sinking both. I saw my mother drown as Zeff pulled me from the water, he tried to save her but when he dived back in he couldn’t find her, in the end it was just him and me that survived.” Sanji says in a distant voice, his eyes unfocused at the sky as if he can still see it all now.

“I’m sorry.” Zoro volunteers he’d never known his parents really, nothing more than vague memories, a song or a voice was all he really had of them. They died when he was young so he never had the opportunity to miss them.

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault, no one alive anyway. But… it changed me. Zeff and I nearly starved to death before we were rescued, and when we got back to dry land I didn’t see any point in tracking down my father. I hated him even then so I stayed with Zeff, I lied and said that both of my parents had been on the ship instead of just my mother.” Sanji says lightly, as if this wasn’t something serious to talk about.

“I lived with Zeff for years, we set up the Baratie together and he taught me to cook. It wasn’t exactly easy and there were plenty of times that we weren’t sure if we were going to lose everything and starve all over again. But, as you saw, the Baratie pulled through. When I was sixteen though my father found me, just by chance really.” The blonde says, his expression hardening.

“Have you ever… have you ever been in a situation where you made a decision that you regretted? As if your life was at a crossroads and you did what you thought you had to… only to realise that you should have chosen differently?” Sanji asks, looking at him earnestly.

“What do you think?” Zoro responds flatly, as if he didn’t have a big shock collar around his neck with a heavy gold padlock attached to it.

“Sorry.” Sanji apologises quickly and looks away, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

The blonde falls silent but Zoro can’t help his curiosity.

“What was your decision?” He asks quietly. Sanji looks over at him for a second, as if to be sure that he means his question and isn’t just mocking him.

“I’m my father’s only child, and his only son no less. Without me his controlling share in his company and everything he has when he dies will go to my uncle and my cousins, which my father doesn’t want. So when he discovered that I was alive and not dead as he’d thought, he demanded that I return with him, become his rightful heir again. He said that if I did he’d repay Zeff considerably for his care of me, and if I didn’t… well… he’d shut down the Baratie and do everything that he could to destroy the old man’s life. It didn’t seem like much of a choice at the time.” Sanji says with a sigh.

“I should have said no, I should have trusted Zeff to take care of us. We could have escaped and tried to start all over again somewhere else. But I tried to be a hero, and now I’m stuck here. I was never so happy as I was when I was with Zeff and never so miserable as I was with my father.” Sanji says quietly.

“And now?” Zoro asks curiously.

“Now… now is better. I’m still under my father’s thumb, hence why you’ve been dragged into this. But… I get to see Zeff and cook with him, and I get to do what I want with my own money, but equally I have to show up and act as expected when I’m invited to stupid parties and events. So I’m hovering around neutral really.” The cook sighs and looks over at him.

“You look surprised, you thought that I’d always been rich and spoiled huh?” Sanji smirks at him.

“Well that’s not exactly a typical story is it?” Zoro retorts, even as his brain quietly admits that, yes, he had thought that.

Zoro looks down at his plate and shuffles some of the food around on it as he thinks everything over.

“Aren’t you hungry? I’m here eating and you’re not.” He says, quickly changing the subject.

“Oh, my food is inside. I didn’t think you’d want me staying out here with you, so I didn’t bring it with me.” Sanji shrugs indifferently.

“It’ll get cold if you leave it.” He says standing up with his half full plate and glass and heading inside. He doesn’t look back but he hears the click of Sanji’s polished shoes following him. He walks through the open sliding glass doors and into Sanji’s dining room. Franky and Usopp’s plates are already clean of food and their chairs empty. Sanji’s plate sits untouched opposite an empty chair.

Zoro sits down in his place and puts his plate back on the table and continues on eating as if nothing was amiss. After a moment Sanji slides into his own chair and starts on his own dinner. The two of them eat in a silence that whilst it’s not a friendly comfortable silence is certainly a lot less tense and uncomfortable than any that they’ve shared thus far.

Zoro awakes from an uneasy sleep that night with no idea of what woke him. He freezes in his bed as the panicky idea that Sanji might be sneaking into his room comes over him. With that in mind he scrambles to the lamp at his bedside and switches it on, he’s alone. Of course he is. There’s no Sanji but also no sign of whatever woke him so suddenly.

He sits up in bed and yawns so hard that it makes his jaw crack. He thinks that he can hear it raining outside quite hard. It wasn’t raining when he went to sleep, was that possibly what woke him?

A dripping sound catches his attention, it’s loud and repetitive, sounding every five seconds or so. It’s an annoying, grating sound and probably what actually woke him. He hops out of the thick comfy bed and throws back the warm covers. He walks through his room in his new luxurious pyjamas, after dinner Usopp had gone out with a list of his measurements from the suit maker and bought Zoro a tonne of normal clothes the fill half of his wardrobe.

He’s never owned anything as nice as them, and he irritably reminds himself that he still doesn’t, Sanji owns him and also all of the nice clothes that now come with him. He pauses and breathes calmly for a second, it’s too easy to get angry at Sanji but today had been rather enlightening as far as the blonde was concerned. Besides, anger isn’t going to get him anywhere.

He shakes his thoughts away and follows the dripping sound. He goes into his bathroom and wrenches the expensive taps further into their off positions. The dripping sound continues but is somehow quieter. He looks at the taps in puzzlement, they’re not dripping at all.

With a frown he walks back into his bedroom and finds that the dripping sound is louder again but still muted somewhat. He tilts his head and follows the sound. He opens his bedroom door out into the hallway, the sound is louder out here. He pads down the hallway following the irritating dripping sound as it gets louder.

He reaches the door at the very end of the hallway, it’s ajar and the dripping seems louder through there. With a cautious look around him to make sure that no one is watching him he pushes the door open. The room seems to be an office of some kind with big wide bookcases and a large ornate desk by the windows. One of the windows higher up is slightly open in fact. The rain is hitting it and dripping off of the bottom of the frame onto a large puddle that’s now formed on the windowsill. He closes the window and the accursed dripping noise stops. He sighs in relief. He gives some thought to mopping up the puddle but he sees nothing around obviously at hand in the darkened room to use so he decides to leave it.

He turns to leave and catches his toe painfully on the thick oak leg of the desk. He stumbles and knocks over the waster paper bin whilst trying to resist swearing loudly. He doesn’t want to wake Sanji up after all, and by his calculation Sanji’s room is just next door to this.

He hops over to the bin, biting his lip to keep quiet. He kneels down and rights the bin and grabs what fell out of it. There just seems to have been a rather weighty envelope in it and nothing else. He picks it up but freezes as he stands up with it and catches its seal in the moonlight. It’s the institute’s seal! He gasps and touches it but it seems unbroken and attached firmly to the envelope, it’s unopened!

Hurriedly he shoves the envelope up his pyjama shirt and scrambles silently out of the room, carefully leaving the door ajar as he found it. He dashes silently down the corridor and back into his room, he shuts himself in his room and drops his stolen prize onto his large bed.

The envelope on closer inspection in the lamp light is definitely unopened, the wax of the institute’s seal is unmarred. He checks the bottom of the envelope but the glue holding that down is still untouched too, if it has been opened by anyone Zoro can’t see how.

He clambers onto his bed and sits cross legged on the covers. He pulls the envelope onto his lap and with a bracing breath slides his thumb under the seal breaking it. He upends the manila envelope onto his bed and a large file falls out.

It is what he expected it to be, the tab on the corner of his file has his name written on it, it’s probably spent most of its life in a filing cabinet in the institute. He flicks it open. The first page inside the file has his name and basic details about him, date of birth, height, weight, eye colour and so on. This must have been the report that Robin gave to Sanji about him, and true to what Sanji said it seems that he never did open it.

Within the file down the side are various coloured tabs, each with a little heading on them so that you can flick between sections. Curiously he turns to the tab labelled “physiology”. It’s mostly about his health, medical history, reports on various times that he’s been sick over the years and what the institute’s medical doctors had to give him. He supposes that’s useful for Sanji to have if he ever has to go to the hospital in the future. There’s a short summary of his health that states that on the whole he’s a healthy person who is not prone to illness and that despite his scars none of his injuries have left him with permanent health problems. Zoro absently rubs the scar on his chest that runs diagonally from collar bone to hip bone and thanks his lucky stars that he was fine after that.

He flicks then to the academic section, within that each of his teachers have given him a write up about how he did in their subjects and their recommendations or observations about him. His music teacher notes that he’s a nice student and although musically untalented is versed enough about music to be able to hold a decent conversation about it, after all being able to talk about things to rich people at parties was half of the point of his training in anything.

His literature teacher has given him a glowing report about his intellect and passion for reading, he’d always liked that teacher better than his predecessor who had a marked distaste for him. His dance teacher notes that whilst Zoro is a passable dance partner, and Zoro can practically hear the woman’s weary displeased voice as he reads her words, he would do much better if he focused on learning how to dance whether it interested him or not. He didn’t mind dancing but it was so dull. It didn’t help that Nami always made him practice with her so that she could get better, so when it came to actually doing it in class he was just as inclined to fall asleep as he was to dance.

His blood runs cold though when he comes to the section written by his behaviour teacher, the very one that had been getting a blowjob whilst teaching the last time that Zoro had walked past his classroom. Zoro hated that scumbag. The man was a real slimeball and Zoro was convinced that he only held the position that he did so that he could exploit mates-in-training like him. He loathed the man and the feeling had been mutual ever since he had wrenched the man’s lecherous hands off of Nami once after class and broken his jaw.

The man’s report and recommendation on him reads:

“Zoro’s disobedient and feisty nature can, in my expert opinion, only be corrected by a firm hand a forced sexual submission. Whilst he was a habitually absent student from my classes he has passed the written exams well enough to be prepared for his new master. Zoro will certainly require emotional reconditioning if he is to be of any use to any master, it is my recommendation that Zoro be assigned to a master who would enjoy such as task. Zoro does not fear physical pain so psychological reconditioning will be far more effective. I shall be happy to provide further, more detailed advice upon request.”

“You absolute bastard.” Zoro growls, vowing to break every bone in that man’s body should he ever get the opportunity.

He forces himself to take a calming breath and change the page, he should be thankful that Sanji hasn’t read this report. He hopes that Sanji is as nice as he seems to be, but he wouldn’t want the blonde getting any ideas about what’s best for him from that guy.

He can’t help but smirk wryly to himself when he reaches the medical doctor’s certification that he is indeed a virgin still. Hah, hardly. Both he and Nami had snuck off of the institute’s grounds enough to ensure that neither of their first times would be with their new masters. Though due to the regular medical checks that they all had to go through Zoro had to be the party giving in his case instead of receiving. He much preferred that though to the painful sports injury that Nami had to fake to fool the doctors after her night with her first partner. He cringes just at the thought, both from the idea of Nami having sex with anyone and of what she had to do to herself to cover it up.

His finger slides down to the final tab in the report, the psychology tab. He opens it to see Chopper’s distinctive neat handwriting, this section of the report was entirely written by him. The report is prefaced by warnings about him and potential triggers for bad behaviour.

“Zoro is very physically strong, this combined with the fact that fear causes him to react with anger and violence leads me to strongly advise against physical confrontation of any kind. Zoro is strong with quick reflexes and any attempts to overpower him will either be fruitless or dangerous. In addition, due to his life before the institute Zoro is incredibly proficient with bladed weapons, particularly swords, and I advise keeping him out of kitchens and away from potential weapons. If this instruction is ignored what might be an unpleasant argument with Zoro could turn fatal.”

Chopper’s report then begins in full.

“Zoro is a kind, gentle man who has a strong sense of honour and integrity. If treated with kindness, humanity and love he will reward you with his warm personality and flawless loyalty. Any kind of physical, mental or sexual mistreatment however is almost certain to be remembered and held against the perpetrator for life. Zoro’s trust once broken may never be repaired. It is for this reason that I deem Zoro strongly unsuitable for anyone who is looking for anything other than a lifelong partner. Zoro needs someone who will challenge him intellectually and emotionally, his best relationships seem to rely on a certain amount of friction within a safe environment.”

Zoro pauses as his and Nami’s incessant bickering springs to mind. He bites his lip and continues reading.

“Zoro is slow to warm to people but well worth the wait. His new master would do well to give Zoro his own time to adjust to his new situation. Zoro requires someone who is gentle but will stand their ground as Zoro has no respect for those who let themselves be pushed around, a successful master should be smart but humble and unconcerned with fancy displays of wealth. Above all a successful match with Zoro will only come from one who can consider him an equal.”

Zoro feels his eyes brim with tears, obscuring his vision. This report was dated years ago, Chopper had written his report so that no person should have been able to sensibly meet the criteria. He’d called for a respectful but aggressive man, who was both intelligent and non-violent. No wonder he’d not been selected until now.

Sanji’s nice guy act must have fooled the institute enough for them to get him off of their books, but Chopper wouldn’t have been fooled, the little doctor could see through any lie. But… was Sanji’s nice guy act really an act? The cook had seemed genuine tonight when he spoke of his past. He certainly wasn’t too showy with his wealth, he wore normal clothes most of the time even though he dressed smart, and in comparison to his father’s house Sanji’s was modest.

He remembers Sanji’s gentle touch on his back when he was hunched over the sink with a bleeding nose, without his wounded pride at being caught so embarrassingly in a fight he could see that Sanji had been trying to soothe him. At the same time Sanji had also fought for him, though he could have taken that guy on his own Sanji had his back.

Sanji… Sanji did seem to be all that Chopper had recommended for him. His heart catches in his throat as he remembers his last words to Chopper, how he had told the little doctor that he hated him, that he’d betrayed his trust. But the furry doctor had done all that he could to keep Zoro safe and allowed him to be given to a man as close to his recommendations as sanely possible. It wasn’t Chopper’s fault that he had to be sold to someone, so the doctor had just tried to do the best that he could to keep him safe. Indeed, the rest of his report, barring his bastard of a behaviour teacher, all agreed with Chopper’s recommendations.

He finds himself tempted to simply remove his behaviour teacher’s report and replace the rest of it back in Sanji’s office. But there was no way that he could do that without Sanji realising that someone had read it, and it would be obvious that a section was missing. No, he can’t do that. He hides the envelope in between his mattress and the bedframe. He’d just have to hope that Sanji assumed that Usopp or Franky had emptied his bin after he threw the report away and not realise that he had it.

He switches off the lamp and curls back under the blankets and thinks about Sanji. He did seem to be all that Chopper’s report asked for, all except for Sanji being his one true love or some crap like that. He can’t help but wonder though what Sanji’s report says. Just as Chopper evaluated him years ago to produce that report, he knows that all masters are evaluated with Chopper and assessed. Each potential master has a report written about their mental and emotional needs which are then matched up with mates of compatible personality and orientation. What did Chopper think that Sanji needed? What did Sanji expect out of their tenuous relationship? Was it simply that he didn’t want anything from him at all and Chopper had paired him with a mate who wasn’t prepared to give anything at all, like him?

He could hardly imagine Sanji’s report reading “Rich pretty boy seeks rough, surly, loudmouthed idiot. Should be vaguely able to dance and string a sentence together. Ideal if he responds to any kindness with suspicion and/or violence. Ideal for generating long term sexual frustration.” Zoro snorts, yeah right.

Still… he’d love to see that report.