Heya readers, I'll be taking break for few days as I am not feeling well.
My whole body feels sore and tired, and my brain is not braining properly.
I was not able to write any chapter in past three days, so give me some time to write atleast two or three chapters.
I'll be back by Monday, and release schedule will be back to normal as it was a week ago.
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Thank you for understanding me.
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Thought of the day:
Nothing is that serious, choose peace.
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Attendance Please:
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INSIDE THE KITCHEN—
The doors burst open. Luffy rolled in like a storm. The cart rattled beneath his hands, piled high with plates and bowls that clattered with every push. He moved past the other cooks without hesitation, ignoring their grumbles, and came to a sudden stop by the sink with a loud thunk.
He began unloading, plate after plate, bowl after bowl. But his hands slowed when he picked up a dish still wet with bits of half-eaten rice. A few strands of meat clung to the edge like forgotten promises. His frown deepened.
Another plate. More leftovers. Another. More.
Sanji pulled a stool across the floor and sat at an empty counter, watching the boy work. He tilted his head, raising one eyebrow beneath his blond hair.
"Why the long face, chore-boy?" He tapped the counter. "Did something taste bad?"
Luffy didn't look up. His voice was quiet. "I don't understand…"
"Understand what?"
He held up a plate—a pretty one, painted with blue fish around the rim. Half a piece of fish sat cold and alone in the middle, grease shining under the lights. "Why don't people finish their food?"
Sanji's finger stopped mid-tap.
"Aren't they hungry?" Luffy's jaw tightened. "Or do they just want to show off that they can buy expensive food? Don't they know how many people go nights without eating anything for days?"
Sanji let out a long, slow breath. He pulled a cigarette from behind his ear but didn't light it yet. Instead, he tapped it repeatedly against the counter, as if counting seconds that had already passed.
"Me too, my friend," he said at last. "Me too."
He looked at the ceiling, where the chimney pipes curled like brass snakes, their joints sweating tiny drops of water that caught the light and fell like slow rain.
"Sometimes I wonder why we even serve people like that, the ones who don't understand what food truly means." He spun the cigarette between his fingers. "But then… old man Zeff's words come back to me every single time: 'We're cooks. It's our job to feed anyone who's hungry.'"
He finally placed the cigarette in his mouth and reached for his lighter.
"That old man is too stubborn for his own good."
Luffy scraped at a burnt spot on the pan. The sound was harsh and genuine. "Yeah, that's what he seems like to me too."
A peaceful silence settled between them, just the squeak of cloth against plates and the distant hum of conversation from the dining room beyond the swinging doors.
Then Sanji flicked the lighter.
"Hey, chore-boy…" He lit his cigarette, took a slow drag, and let the smoke curl toward the pipes above. "Why did you become a pirate? So young, too."
Luffy hummed thoughtfully, the sound resembling a gentle tune. He set down the clean plate and looked at Sanji with eyes free of doubt—only the clear, calm water of absolute certainty.
"For my dream, I want to be the King of the Pirates." A grin spread slowly and contagiously across his face. "The freest man in the world. That way, when I achieve it, no one can stop me."
Sanji's smoke caught in his throat. He coughed once—a surprised, genuine sound. "King of the Pirates, huh? That's an impossible goal, mate. In this era, everyone wants to find Gold Roger's treasure. Everyone wants his title." He squinted through the haze. "So, what's so special about you?"
"Nothing."
The word landed like a stone dropped into still water.
Luffy's grin didn't fade. "You don't have to be special to reach your dream. You just need the right mindset and a strong will to stick with it. So, when someone tries to push you back or make you fall, you just keep getting up and moving forward."
He turned back to the sink and resumed scrubbing.
"Don't listen to those who try to stop you, the ones who want you to give up. They are just empty people, dead inside. People who never even tried to pursue their own dreams. People who just sit on their butts and complain about how unfair the world is."
His hands stopped moving.
"Yeah, the world is unfair. It is unkind. I know that too." He looked down at the dirty water, his face wavering in the ripples. "But I didn't let that unfairness break me. I didn't let it stop me from moving forward. Because the moment you let doubt latch onto your mind…"
He raised his head, and his eyes met Sanji's.
"…You're already dead. Then you're nothing but a living shell, just waiting for death to finally release you from your own pain."
Sanji sat in silence. The cigarette burned low between his fingers, forgotten. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recalled those starving days on that rock, the old man's missing leg, and a debt that could never be repaid.
He brought the cigarette back to his lips, took a deep drag, and let the smoke fill his lungs like a confession.
Then he let it out.
"You know," he said, his voice softer now, almost wondering, "I didn't know you could be so profound with your words."
"Shishishishishi…" Luffy's laugh bubbled up from somewhere deep, warm, and genuine. "Well, I try my best!"
He scraped another plate.
"So, Sanji… tell me, do you have a dream of your own? Something you truly want to achieve?"
The silence returned, but this time it was different, heavier, filled with unspoken words.
Sanji leaned back on the stool until its front legs lifted off the floor. He balanced there, staring at the coiled pipes and watching smoke rise and scatter among the brass.
"Yeah," he said at last, softly. "I do."
His voice dropped to a tone almost like a prayer.
"There's this place that everyone only talks about in stories: the All Blue." The words came out like a wish. "They say water from all four seas, North, East, West, and South, comes together in that one place. Rare fish. Spices. Ingredients you could never find anywhere else."
He smiled, a small, private gesture.
"It's every cook's paradise."
Luffy beamed at him, water dripping from his fingers. "Then you should just go and find the All Blue!"
Sanji's smile faltered. The front legs of the stool landed with a soft thump.
"It's not that easy, mate. I owe the old man; I can't just leave."
"Huh? What do you owe—?"
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
The back door shook under four heavy knocks that rattled the wood in its frame. Luffy's words died in his throat. Sanji's hand went to the counter, his fingers brushing a nearby ladle.
Then a voice came through, hoarse and worn down to the bone.
"Anyone there?" A wet, rattling breath whispered, "P-please… help me…"
Sanji and Luffy exchanged glances.
Then, they moved.
Sanji reached the door first, his hand steady as he lifted the latch. The door swung open to reveal the back of the restaurant.
A man stood there, or rather, crouched there, leaning against the wall with his shoulder, supported only by stubbornness and the last remnants of his will. His clothes hung off him like burial shrouds. His cheeks were hollow. His eyes, dark, sunken orbs, that seemed to gaze from somewhere far away, almost lost.
"H-help me…"
He fell forward.
Sanji caught him before he hit the floor. The man weighed almost nothing—just bones wrapped in skin, a skeleton still masquerading as a person.
"There, there, my friend," Sanji said gently. He patted the man's back and guided him inside, seating him in the chair. "Easy now. Easy."
"F-food…" The man's lips barely moved. "Please… I haven't eaten anything in two weeks."
Luffy's eyes widened. "Two weeks!"
But Sanji was already in motion.
He crossed to the pantry in four long strides, his hands flying over the ingredients—leftover vegetables, a scrap of meat, cold rice. He worked with the focus of a surgeon, but faster, faster, because every second mattered when a man was this far gone.
The wok hissed, and the spatula clattered. Within minutes, the kitchen was filled with the aroma of garlic and soy sauce.
Sanji slid the plate in front of the man.
Fried rice: simple and humble, made from scraps that would have been discarded by morning.
"Here, eat this."
He stepped back and sat on the stool, watching intently.
The man lifted his head. His eyes, hollow and distant, locked onto the plate like a drowning man spotting shore.
"Food…"
He grabbed the spoon. His hands shook so badly that half of the first bite fell back onto the plate. But he didn't stop. He scooped again, brought it to his lips, and chewed.
And then—
The first tear fell.
Then another, and another.
He ate through his tears, sniffling and wiping his nose with the back of his hand, his shoulders shaking with each sob. "I never… ever… tasted anything so delicious…" He looked up at Sanji with eyes that had seen too much yet still held gratitude. "I thought I was done for. A dead man for sure."
Sanji took a slow drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling around his face like a veil. "Good, eh?"
Luffy grinned. "Shishishishishi… you were really lucky that Sanji was here!" He gently clapped the man on the back, gentle for Luffy, and nodded toward the plate. "That food saved your life."
The man nodded slowly, his eyes still wet. "Y-yeah…" He turned to Sanji. "Thank you, Mister Cook, for saving my life. I won't forget this kindness."
Sanji waved his hand, the cigarette trailing smoke. "No big deal. Just eat. And if you're still hungry, I can give you more."
"Shishishishishi…" Luffy's laugh echoed off the copper pots. "You really are a kind man, Sanji!" He tilted his head, his straw hat casting shadows over his eyes. "You know what? Why don't you join my crew? If you do, I promise I'll help you find the All Blue."
Sanji's hand stopped mid-wave.
He looked up at Luffy, raising one eyebrow. "Nah, I'll have to refuse."
"No! I refuse!"
"What?"
Luffy crossed his arms in an X. "I said, I refuse your refusal!"
"Now hold on—" Sanji raised his hands, palms out, as if stopping a charging bull. "Why should I listen to you?"
"Because I just said so!"
The man looked between them with the expression of someone who had walked into a conversation that was both silly and somehow important. He raised a trembling hand.
"Sorry to interrupt, but…"
Both heads turned. "What?"
The man cleared his throat—a dry, painful sound. "I'm Gin," he said, swallowing nervously. "One of Krieg's pirates."
Sanji's eyes narrowed, but Luffy's grin remained unchanged.
"Are you a pirate too?" Gin asked Luffy.
"Yup!" Luffy puffed out his chest. "I'm a pirate too. I even have my own crew."
"Is that so?" Gin's gaze flickered with a hint of something. "Then you must have a dream you're chasing."
"Yeah! I'm after the One Piece. I'm heading to the Grand Line!"
The change was immediate.
Gin's face turned gray. His eyes darkened, filled with a look of ancient terror awakening from a shallow grave.
"So," he whispered, "you're after the One Piece, too?"
"Yup!"
Gin sighed. He looked at Luffy with eyes filled with pity, a warning, or perhaps both.
"You don't seem like a bad sort," his voice dropped. "So I'll give you a word of warning." A pause. "Whatever you do… don't go to the Grand Line."
The kitchen grew cold.
Luffy's grin flickered, while Sanji's cigarette burned, forgotten between his fingers.
"Huh?" they said together, a single confused note.
Gin stared at the half-eaten plate of fried rice. His reflection wavered in the leftover soy sauce.
"We were five thousand men in the Krieg Pirates, with dozens of ships in our fleet." His voice had gone flat. "Our captain, Don Krieg, thought that with so many of us, it would be easy to take over the Grand Line."
His lips began to tremble.
"But we were mistaken."
He pressed a hand over his eyes, trying to hide, but there was nowhere to escape the thing inside his head.
"One man," Gin's voice cracked. "He was just one man. And yet, he destroyed all of us so easily—like he was just out for a walk." His hand fell away, revealing red-rimmed eyes. "Everyone, including Captain Krieg, was killed by that man. Our dozens of ships were split in half as if they were made of paper."
A single tear slid down his gaunt cheek.
"I'm the only survivor of that slaughter. And now…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "There's nothing left for me in this world. Nothing."
He sobbed, a horrible, muffled sound, and covered his face again.
Luffy stood perfectly still.
Sanji looked up at the ceiling, observing the coiled pipes and the smoke that had nowhere to escape.
Neither of them spoke.
Some silences, they knew, were too heavy to be expressed in words.
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AT THE BAR—
The clink of glasses, the low hum of conversation, and the occasional burst of laughter from a corner table where sailors shared stories too tall to be true.
Yuji and Olivia sat at the bar, elbows close and shoulders turned toward each other in that unconscious way people do when they find something interesting in an unexpected place. Yuji was mid-laugh when Nami hurried toward him.
She was at his side in seconds, her hand gripping his sleeve with desperate fingers.
"Big bro." Her voice was low, urgent, almost a whisper. "It's an emergency. You need to come with me right now."
Yuji's smile faded. He turned on his stool, noticing the paleness of her face, the slight tremor in her hands, and the way her pupils had dilated wide with what looked like fear.
"Nami," he said, keeping his voice steady on purpose. "What happened? Is something wrong?"
"It's Zoro." Her grip tightened. "You need to stop him before he gets himself killed."
The background noise of the bar seemed to fade away. Yuji felt a cold sensation settle in his chest.
"Zoro?"
He didn't ask for more. Instead, he turned to Olivia, who had been watching the exchange with quiet, attentive eyes.
"Miss Olivia," Yuji said with a brief but genuine apologetic smile. "I'm really sorry, but I have to go."
Olivia's smile in return was small. "Oh, it's okay. I don't mind. It does seem important."
Yuji nodded once, then he and Nami left.
Olivia lifted her glass, a dark rum, untouched since Yuji had ordered it for her, and slowly turned it in her fingers, watching the liquid catch the light.
Her eyes followed the spot where Yuji had left.
A smile played on her lips.
"Yuji Itadori," she murmured, tasting the name. "What a unique person you are."
She set the glass down without drinking.
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TEN MINUTES LATER—
Aboard the Going Merry.
The dining hall had never seemed so small.
Luffy sat at the head of the table, his usual energy restrained like a fire smothered by ash. Yuji stood by the porthole, arms crossed, watching the harbor lights flicker on the water. Zoro sat in a chair in the corner. Usopp fidgeted in his seat. Nami stood near the door, her hand resting on the frame as if she might run at any moment.
The air between them was so thick it felt suffocating.
Luffy and Yuji had heard everything on the way here, as Nami breathlessly explained how Zoro had challenged Mihawk to a duel.
They both looked at Zoro.
He sat with his eyes closed, his face perfectly still. However, his hands, resting on his thighs, were clenched into fists, the knuckles white.
"So," Yuji broke the silence. His voice was calm but carried weight, a careful, measured tone. "You're really doing it, huh?"
Zoro only hummed in response, a low sound of acknowledgment and nothing more.
Luffy didn't say anything either. He watched Zoro with dark, unreadable eyes.
Nami couldn't bear it.
She stepped forward, her voice rising with frustration and fear. "Luffy, big bro," she said, looking between them. "You need to talk him out of this!"
Zoro's eyes snapped open, his gaze cutting to Nami like a blade.
"What's gotten into you?" His voice was sharp, sharper than he intended, but he didn't take it back. "You're not even really part of this crew. You're just here for the money." He paused. "So why are you so worried about me?"
The words hung in the air, harsh and exposed.
Nami looked down at the floor. Her hands, hanging at her sides, curled into fists, then slowly and slowly, uncurled. She didn't answer.
"Yeah," she muttered softly. "You're right."
And that, that quiet admission, was somehow worse than any argument.
"Don't say that, Zoro."
Yuji pushed off from the porthole without raising his voice.
"She's worried because she cares about you, just like all of us care about her." He walked slowly around the table; his footsteps deliberate on the wooden floor. "This isn't just a crew; this is a family. We're embarking on this impossible journey together, to face all the challenges and overcome all the odds." He stopped at the head of the table, opposite Luffy, and placed his hands on the back of the empty chair. "Looking after each other is our main job. That's what this is."
Nami lifted her head. Her wide, surprised eyes met Yuji's.
Zoro was silent for a long moment.
Then he slowly unclenched his hands, his fingers aching from the tension. He looked at Yuji and nodded once.
"I understand that too." His voice had lost its edge. "It's just…" He paused, searching for words that didn't sound like excuses. "This is really important to me. This isn't just a dream, it's a promise." His jaw tightened. "A promise to someone. I carry it with me everywhere, and I can't back down from it. I won't."
He turned toward Luffy.
"Luffy, I joined your crew on one condition," he said, his voice steady now. "That you wouldn't stop me from chasing my dream, even if it kills me."
Luffy met his gaze without flinching. His expression was serious in a way it rarely was, the face of a captain who fully understood what was being asked of him.
"I know, Zoro." His voice was quiet but sure. "And I won't stop you. I promised you that."
He leaned forward, his straw hat casting a shadow over his eyes.
"But you're part of my crew now, a family, like Yuji said." His voice hardened. "And I won't sail forward without you."
He pointed at Zoro, his finger jabbing the air between them.
"You're the left-hand man of the Future King of the Pirates." His grin broke through. "The man who will one day be the greatest swordsman in the world."
Zoro stared at him intently.
At those eyes, those impossible, believing, certain eyes. Eyes that saw a version of him he was still striving to become. Eyes that did not flinch from the blade, the blood, or the long, lonely road ahead.
Something stirred in Zoro's chest.
Warm and painful.
He closed his eyes.
"Luffy." His voice was rough. "Yuji. Usopp." He paused. "Nami."
He opened his eyes.
"Thank you. For everything." He looked around the room, at each face, each pair of eyes watching him with fear, hope, and something that looked terrifyingly like faith. "These past days, sailing with all of you… I've never felt such freedom in my whole life."
He straightened up in his chair.
"Now I know what I have to do." His hand drifted to the white-knuckled grip around Wado's hilt. "I'll give my all in tomorrow's duel. And even if I lose…" He looked at them, all of them. "I promise I'll live, so we can continue our journey. Together."
Luffy's grin returned in full force, unstoppable, like the sun emerging from behind the clouds. "I believe in you, Zoro."
"Me too," said Yuji.
"You can do it, Zoro," Usopp said, giving him a thumbs-up.
All eyes turned toward Nami.
She stood in the doorway, arms crossed and lips pressed into a thin line. For a long moment, she remained silent.
Then—
"Just…" Her voice cracked slightly. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Just don't die on us, okay?"
Zoro's smirk was slow and familiar, edged with just enough arrogance to be comforting. "Don't worry, witch. We still have the One-Piece to find."
A teary chuckle escaped Nami before she could stop it. She quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, as if hoping no one had noticed.
"Stupid brute."
And around the table, around the small, improbable, and seemingly impossible family that had somehow found each other in the midst of a world that sought to swallow them whole, they smiled.
Tomorrow will come.
Tomorrow, the blade will fall.
But tonight, they had one another.
And for now, that was enough.
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See you on Monday....