A/N: Okay, okay… I KNOW; I shouldn't be writing a separate little ficlet, what with the millions of other things that should be taking the front seat right now. ("From the Inside", "Cursed", the 30_onepiece second round, the list goes on…) But I've been thinking about this idea for a LONG time now, and I have been absolutely dying to write it. XP So, I'm sorry! I'll try and be more consistent with my updates for my other stories!
But, in the mean time, I hope you enjoy this little story, inspired by callosum! (Thank you for allowing me to go through with this plot bunny!)
"Kamabakka Sanji"
Summary: Beggars can't be choosers, Sanji… You DID want the Marines to change your wanted poster, after all…
He was SO glad to be back.
Sanji stood in the kitchen of the Thousand Sunny, stirring together the ingredients of the latest lunch that he was making for the StrawHat crew. Familiar but seemingly long-lost aromas filled the room, and the cook sighed contentedly.
So very, very glad…
The crew had just fully reunited one week ago, and truthfully, things still felt weird. At least, to Sanji they did. They'd all been apart for so long; seeing them all together left an odd combination of relief and confusion in his stomach. However, everyone was quick in going back to their usual antics during the course of the day, and that lessened the odd tension some.
Granted, they all seemed to be keeping a closer eye on each other for some reason. Maybe it was just out of fear that they would all be separated again. The cook knew that he was afraid of that. He never wanted anything like that to ever happen again.
He silently thanked whatever God was up there that he wasn't the last crew member to be found, lest everyone see the horrifying sight that was Sanji in drag.
He shuddered involuntarily. Those memories were best left stowed away in a locked chest bound together by unbreakable chains and guarded by a million three-headed dogs foaming at the mouth.
Sanji had immediately decided after he had been rescued from Kamabakka Island that he would never speak of the horrid place again. At least, more than he had to. Luffy and the present members of the crew wouldn't let him get away with telling them nothing, so- regretfully –he had to admit some of his shame. However, he carefully left out some of the truly unspeakable parts to savor the little bit of dignity he had left.
And much to his abhorrence, the whole crew somehow found out. He didn't know how, (though he suspected Luffy of some treachery) but they found out. They didn't come right up to him and say that they knew it straight up, but Zoro would occasionally make the offhanded cross-dresser joke and send Sanji into a blind fury.
If Zoro knew, that meant someone had spilled the beans, and now everyone knew. (The swordsman hadn't been there when Sanji was found, thank goodness) At first, the cook was practically tearing his hair out of his head because of it. But thankfully, the majority of the crew didn't bring the topic up at all. Except for Zoro's snide comments every once and a while, of course, the shithead…
Sanji's mind had been preoccupied by other things lately too, so he hadn't had much time to think of that horrible, horrible, island. The three-headed frothing dogs were doing their job well.
It would've been just fine with him if he never had to think of that hellhole anyway.
Sanji tapped the wooden spoon on the side of the large pan he was currently using to get all of the excess liquid off and hurriedly set it down. He began divvying up the soup into eight different bowls and set them all on the table systematically, followed by many more dishes containing other delicacies. (If he could be so bold about his cooking)
"Nami-swaaan! Robin-chwaaan!" He called up lovingly to the two women sitting on the upper deck of the Thousand Sunny, stepping out of the kitchen momentarily, "Lunch is ready, my darlings!!" He turned to the lower deck, a scowl suddenly on his face, "Hey, you shitheads! Same goes for you! Get your sorry asses into the galley!"
Sanji walked back into the kitchen, glancing around the table just to make a hundred percent sure that everything was in place. Of course, he had already set out Nami-san and Robin-chan's favorite cocktail drinks as always. Those other jerks got whatever he felt like giving them.
Soon, everyone started filing into the galley, the usual chatter of the crew easily filling up the small space. They all sat in their accustomed spots and, after a brief kanpai, the chatter resumed and the food was devoured.
Nami sat with her legs crossed, slowly eating her share of the food while reading the daily newspaper. Since they were so far out on the Grand Line- in the New World no less –the newspaper took longer to get to them. Nami didn't seem to mind this very much actually. As long as they didn't keep raising their prices, she'd be good.
She flipped through the pages slowly, glancing over each article as it caught her eye. As she made to turn another page, she found that there was a brown piece of parchment inside of the paper. She recognized the special kind anywhere; it would be a wanted poster.
"I wonder who it is now. Seems like everyone's getting a higher and higher bounty these days," The navigator mused.
She froze as her eyes fell on the picture below the large 'WANTED' sign. It took her a second before she could catch her breath enough to speak. Even when she could speak, her eyes refused to leave the picture.
"Um… Sa-Sanji-kun…?" Her voice was barely audible amongst the ones of her loud crewmembers, but Sanji could pick hers out even if she was whispering.
"Haaiii, Nami-san!" He called out joyfully, coming right to her side, "What can I do for you my dear? Would you like me to refill your drink? Or perhaps get you seconds on something? Or maybe-"
"Sanji-kun," She interrupted him uneasily. He blinked at her, sensing the anxiousness in her voice.
"… What is it, Nami-san?" He asked in a much calmer tone.
"Um, well…" She reluctantly handed him the wanted poster, forcing herself to look away from it, "Y-You'd… Better see this…"
Sanji looked at the paper curiously as Nami handed it to him, "A wanted poster? But Nami-san, why d--" Any words he was going to say died in his mouth as he took in what was on the paper.
Wanted: Kuro Ashi no Sanji. Seventy-seven million berries. Dead or alive. But the… The Picture…
That wasn't him. It couldn't be him. Was it Duval? No, it wasn't him either. The face wasn't the same. Then who… Who the hell was it?
"That couldn't be me…"
The shock of blond hair was barely a shock thanks to the make-up that was completely caked on the person's face.
"It just… It couldn't…"
The person didn't look too happy at all. In fact, if one stared at the picture for too long, one may start to see a familiar fiery scowl underneath the ridiculous amount of eye shadow and eye liner.
Sanji's eyes remained locked on the photo as he remembered in horror a certain night on Kamabakka. A group of Marines had landed on the island and were looking for whoever was in charge. They were running low on supplies, just wanted to see if they could make friends with the locals while they were restocking.
Well, as luck would have it, Sanji was the first person they found. (Person being a loosely used term) The unsuspecting Marines walked up to him, asking: "Excuse me, ma'am, we're with the Marines. Would you be able to point us to whoever is in charge here?"
Of course, that ended well. One glare that could melt an ice berg and one gravelly: "What the hell did you just call me?" was all that it took for the small group to jump back in surprise and take into account his curly eyebrow.
Thinking the pirate was just going undercover as some sort of drag queen (that phrase sealed the death sentence for many of them), one of the higher ranking Marines ordered an attack on him. Sanji, already being plenty pissed off, took this as a chance to let all of his anger out on these unfortunate Marines.
He had been focusing on how to fight efficiently with a dress on and how surprisingly good heels were for kicking people in the face, so someone could have easily snapped a picture of him without him noticing.
Shit. Holy freaking damn shitty shit.
Sanji's mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but no words came out. Nami looked at him in a concerned way, "Um… Sanji-kun? Are you… Alright?" By that time the entire crew had stopped their chattering and had turned to see what all the horrified expressions were about.
Sanji fell to his knees, as his legs could no longer support the added weight that had somehow been put on his shoulders. There were a few surprised gasps here and there, and several murmured worries about the cook's health. A few of the crew stood up in alarm.
"S-Sanji-kun?" Nami's voice was more urgent now. Maybe she shouldn't have shown the picture to him…
"Shit…" Sanji grounded out in a gurgle barely audible. His head hung in defeat as the picture mocked him. It knew it had won.
Not only was the picture utterly humiliating in every way, shape in form, and not only did it go against everything the cook stood for, but the precise timing of the Marines was just too horrid to comprehend. A sombrero was partially visible on Sanji's head.
"Of course those bastards came on damn fiesta night…" Sanji thought tragically as he remembered being forced into a ridiculously decorated sombrero. His fists clenched around the cursed piece of paper.
This wasn't fair! Things were supposed to get better, not worse! Better!
He'd be the laughingstock of all the women in the world now… Forget all the women, he'd be the laughingstock of EVERYONE! Man, woman, and child would all point and laugh at the outrageous picture of Kuro Ashi no Sanji, a wanted pirate who was supposed to be feared and admired!
Sanji suddenly got a rush of adrenaline and shot up from his previously pitiful position on the floor. Before anyone had much of a chance to even open their mouths, he had booked it out the door and had jumped down to the lower deck of the Thousand Sunny.
Letting loose an almost feral cry, the cook tore the wanted poster into as many little pieces as he could. Only when dust-sized specks remained did he let it fly out into the seemingly endless ocean.
Sanji stood there heaving like he had just run two marathons back to back. His fists clenched hard at his sides, and God save anyone who dared speak to him right now.
The crew all stood huddled in the door of the galley, staring on as if having just witnessed a murder. Some had been outside and looking through the railing, but had quickly scuttled back once they felt the heat waves rolling off of Sanji. If anyone was to even breathe wrong in front of him, they feared there would be more casualties.
"H-Holy crap!" Usopp said squeakily, peeking out from behind Franky's shoulder.
"That bastard! Look at him! He's burning the grass on the Sunny's deck!" Franky said heatedly.
Disbelief turned into astonishment as everyone watched a small black circle around Sanji grow larger and larger. The grass was actually burning up from the intense heat of his anger. Franky tapped his sunglasses to his nose impatiently.
"I'm going to kick his--" The cyborg started, beginning to walk out towards the deck.
"Franky, no!" Usopp and Chopper both lunged forward, grabbing hold of him before he could get very far. He tugged at their added weight angrily.
"Do you really think you'll survive out there? LOOK at him!" Usopp stammered.
"Please don't, Franky! I don't want you to die!" Chopper wailed.
Franky looked back at the fuming cook and mulled over his options for a moment before swallowing and clearing his throat anxiously, "That's a good point… He looks pissed enough to burn up the entire ocean."
"I-I've never seen Sanji-san this scary!" Brooke said, cowering behind the door.
"Yeah!" Luffy, who had been standing behind Brooke, turned around to face Nami, Robin, and Zoro, who were still seating comfortably in their spots, "Why's Sanji so mad all of a sudden? What'd you show him Nami?"
At this, all who were watching the cook turned around and looked in Nami's direction. It was a question that they all wouldn't mind the answer to. She scratched her cheek with a finger nervously.
"Um, well…" She began, "I-It's kind of hard… To--"
"The Marines changed Curly-Brow's wanted poster picture into one of him dressed in drag. WITH a sombrero," Zoro announced happily from his spot by Nami, sipping at his beer nonchalantly.
It paid to have a seat by the witch sometimes. This gave him material for weeks.
Meanwhile, Sanji had fallen to his back on the burnt patch of grass once his anger had cooled down to self-pity. He couldn't win. Ever. All he ever wanted was to forget that hellish island, and now he had a permanent reminder of it.
Somewhere, somehow, a deity was rolling on the ground laughing mercilessly.
~OWARI~
Author's Note:
Aaah, I'm so horrible to poor Sanji! I'm almost as bad as Oda-san! XP
At any rate, I hope y'all liked this. I've been putting it off for a while now and was in a good mood for writing One Piece today, so there we go!
Poor Sanji… Really, this seems like something that might happen to him. He is just THAT lucky.
Luffy and the present members of the crew wouldn't let him get away with telling them nothing…
I'll just let you decide who else was there to witness Sanji's humiliation. ;)
Shit. Holy freaking damn shitty shit.
I figure Sanji would swear a whole lot if this ever happened. XP (He swears a whole lot already, but you know!)
He had been focusing on how to fight efficiently with a dress on and how surprisingly good heels were for kicking people in the face…
Right?? I think the only part about the whole cross-dressing thing that Sanji may have liked was the boost of kicking power from high heels.
"Of course those bastards came on damn fiesta night…"
Well yeah! It's Sanji! The Marines couldn't have come on a NORMAL day!
The grass was actually burning up from the intense heat of his anger.
Hahaha, I had to. XD If he can light his leg on fire, he should certainly be able to light some grass on fire!
"The Marines changed Curly-Brow's wanted poster picture into one of him dressed in drag. WITH a sombrero,"
Okay, if anyone other than Nami had to see it, it would have to be Zoro. Besides, it goes along with the theme of this ficlet: "Sanji has the worst shitty luck ever."
Somewhere, somehow, a deity was rolling on the ground laughing mercilessly.
A deity named Eichiro Oda-san.