One Piece 1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own One Piece**

**So, this is an AU work I'm writing, that will probably be updated every week. All the elements are from the One Piece verse itself, but set in a more American universe. So far it's just one part, but I may develop a sequel. Anyways, the plot is set such that they are still in the East Blue, and they are attending high-school. **

**Anyways, I honestly was inspired by a Tumblr prompt from otp-vent. The majority of this chapter was taken from parts of the prompt she posted, so enjoy! **

* * *

**The Signboard**

Honestly, Sanji shouldn't have been surprised when the plot began. It was probably because he was the least amiable member of the Baratie ever. It was bound to bite him in the fucking ass, and judging from the soreness, it really had. He hadn't meant for anything to actually come out of what happened. He'd never meant to encourage anything. But something had happened, which meant a helluva of a lot. In fact, it was probably the stupidest fucking thing ever. And now he was lying in bed, all alone, completely naked, with a sore ass to boot, and trying to figure out what the fuck he had just done.

* * *

It had begun a few weeks ago. Sanji had been in a bad mood for the last month. A really bad mood. A fantastically shitty mood. And his coworkers were suffering through his anger.

"Fucking hell Carne! How the fuck do you not know to make a shitty fucking latte?!" yelled Sanji, smashing the cup down in front of the man, who was scowling at his coworker and also boss. The day Sanji had been made assistant manager, Patty and Carne had wept.

"It's a goddamned delicious latte you asshole!" yelled Carne back, not willing to take shit from the kid he'd watched go through puberty, after all.

"It's a fucking disgusting monstrosity!" hollered Sanji, "And nobody in the fucking world is going to want to drink this shit! Fuck do I have to do everything myself?!"

He was out of the kitchen area in seconds, in front of the counter with a smarmy fucking smile and politely kissing the hand of the girl across the counter, making a big show of being apologetic. Carne crushed the cup between his hands, furious. He was damned good at making lattes. Sure his speciality lay in the breakfast foods like croissants and danishes they baked, but he knew how to pull together a fucking latte. How dare the kid act like that?!

"Sanji always been so upset?" asked the jovial, innocently childish brat as he poured the perfectly good coffee down the sink, while munching on the leftover sandwiches from the tables.

"He's been fucking moody," said Patty darkly, as he brewed a new pot of coffee while working on the lemon tarts. "He's had a stick up his ass for the last month!"

"Fucking shit head," said Carne with a dark scowl, "I know how to make a fucking coffee!"

"Yesh you do," said the kid, eating away the last of the leftovers before getting to work soaking the dishes, this time managing not to break any, "Butsh I like your shanwiches better! Can I have a turkey sandwich with extra meat?!"

"Shut up Luffy and do the fucking dishes!" yelled Sanji, back to gripe at them some more.

When he left, Luffy, Patty and Carne put their heads together, plotting ideas for revenge. Well, Patty and Carne did. Luffy was bribed with sandwiches to help.

The first brilliant plan of revenge involved placing a spider in the till. Unfortunately, nobody had bothered to inform Zeff. The old geezer had come in during the afternoon and sent Sanji on break, only to find the fucking spider. After he'd crushed it, all three had received wallops on the head from the peg leg, and been sent back to work.

The second plan hadn't been their idea at all. It had been a combination of Nami and Usopp's plan. It had been decided when the two came in for an evening cuppa. Nami worked at the Arlong Company. She hated her job, but it was all to make money to head to the city when she graduated. Usopp was working over at the Merry Repair shop, and loved it there. So it was guaranteed that one would walk in happy, while the other walked in fuming.

"Hey guys!" said Luffy, having finished his hours and grinning ear to ear, "I'm done! And I only broke two plates and one cup today!"

"Congratulations," said Usopp delightedly as he sat down at the regular table beside Nami Luffy sliding in across from them.

"We ordered already," said Nami, before Luffy could open his mouth and ask them to order him some meat, "And did you finish the assignment for Math Luffy?"

"There was an assignment?!" asked Luffy, his jaw dropped comically, and eyes bulging, "Since when?! Mr. Rokakku never said anything!"

"Yes he did," said Nami bluntly, "I'm not even in your class and I know!"

"I'll copy Usopp," said Luffy decidedly, before the two dissolved into an argument about Luffy failing math.

"Your coffee my darling mellorine!" came Sanji's voice, as he laid the cup, already foamed with two little hearts made from syrup in each, alongside raspberry and lemon tarts. Usopp's cup, though not decorated, was laid with equal care beside the younger boy. Luffy's bowl of leftover sandwiches and deli items from lunchtime was thumped down in front of him. They all thanked Sanji, who gave a beaming smile at the ladies, before heading back to the kitchen. A few minutes later, there was a sound of yelling.

"Yikes! What's he upset at?" asked Usopp, surprised at the sound. It wasn't uncommon for Sanji to yell in the kitchen, but to do so without fawning over Nami's appearance first was the strangest thing they'd ever seen.

"I dunno," said Luffy with a frown, "He's been yelling all day!"

And then he regaled two with the story of the spider and Patty and Carne's plot for revenge. Usopp's eyes were comically wide and amazed, and Nami laughed at Patty and Carne and Luffy's misfortune of being caught by Zeff.

"Y'know, maybe he just needs to get laid," said Nami finally, "I think he's just been single too long! I mean, he did date Roxanne for a while, but that panned out."

"So who should date him?" asked Usopp curiously.

The two boys turned to Nami, who scowled ferociously as she said, "Nuh uh. Not me! No way!"

"Oh c'mon, he doesn't even charge you for coffee! Think of what else you could get for free," cajoled Usopp teasingly, only to be met by a dangerous glare.

"I thought the plot was about revenge?" said Nami, as Usopp winced at the light throbbing in his head from where Nami smacked him.

"Well, it might be nice to see Sanji with another girl again. You know how he adored Roxanne," said Usopp thoughtfully, "Maybe he just needs to meet someone? Never fear! I have a specialty with match-making! I've made thousands of people happily married couples today!"

The conversation dissolved into Luffy being amazed, and Nami being skeptical. However, after school the next day, Luffy shared his conversation with Patty and Carne. The two ended up snickering as they got Luffy to finish writing on their specials board by the front entrance.

Sanji made his way over to the Baratie Cafe after school on his bike. He always went in through the back, so he had no time to see the sign. If he had, he may have figured out the giggles from his customers far sooner. Be as it was, it wasn't until two hours after his shift started that it all made sense.

* * *

Zoro sighed and rolled his neck to weed the kink the in his neck out. Practice had run later than usual. It wasn't a big deal, considering he was Captain, and considering nobody was waiting for him at home. As Zoro left, his mind kept running over the words Coach Koshiro had said to him. Apparently he was being too single-minded. What the fuck did that mean?!

Okay, so his grades had slipped a bit since he had become Captain. But did it matter? The sword was his life. Just like it was his dad's life. Just like it had been Koshiro's life. Who cared if he failed math or geography? As long as he could fight, he'd be alright. Nothing mattered beyond his sword. He sighed as he walked down the familiar winding road to his house. He was sore all over and now he was getting a headache. They wanted him to consider getting a tutor. Or at least to put in more effort. No doubt he'd be in shit when he got home.

It was with that thought that Zoro decided it was time to grab something to eat or drink. Preferably with booze. Except for the little problem that he had no fucking clue where Johnny and Yosaku lived, and even if he did, there was no guarantee they had any booze. Instead, Zoro had to make do with his second option. Coffee.

He sighed as he walked towards the coffee shop he knew was along the way to his house. The Baratie. He'd heard of the place before from Johnny, Yosaku and Luffy, but he'd never really gone inside before. The two had grabbed him treats from there, and Koshiro usually got the team some snacks from there at the end of the year. He knew Luffy worked here though, so that was a plus. He'd just never gone inside himself, favoring his house and sleep or booze to coffee.

As he walked inside, the first thing that caught his eye was the special's board. It was a blackboard posted by the entrance, in front of a potted bush with flowery pink things sprouting out of it in a combination of aesthetically pleasing but also completely and utterly useless. The board itself was simple, and had the words_ Baratie Coffee House _printed neatly across the top. No utterly repulsive curly lettering. Just neat and common words. Already a plus.

Below in white chalk, however, was the most interesting message. In untidy scrawl at he top, it said 'Today your barista is' and then, instead of writing a name, it had a little doodle of a stick figure, with hair going across where one eye should be, and a tie apparently strangling it. Beside the stick figure, in point form, two short sentences were written, completing the message, 'Today your barista is,' with the points, 'hella fucking gay' and 'desperately single'.

Underneath that obnoxious and proud message was the drink recommendation, which instead of a typical chai tea or something fruity, was the emblazoned message, 'I recommend you give me your number.'

Zoro thought nothing of the message, merely shrugging it off. So some fruitcake at the counter was looking for a date. Good for them. Again he was stuck on Koshiro's words. Tutor and fucking socialize instead of practising. Koshiro thought it would be good for him. He scowled, and walked into the coffee shop through the second set of doors.

The shop was pretty grand, actually. It had neat little black booths across the edges and by large, open windows. The lighting was dimmed, considering those windows let in more light than necessary. The walls had art work of ships and the ocean across it, giving a quaint, sea side atmosphere, which made sense considering that the town of East Blue was by the ocean, after all. To the left of the entry way was a small stage, with a piano set up. They probably did jazz or open mic nights or some artistic bullshit.

The main counter to order was at the front. Delicate pastries and croissants and other food items were placed in an open window for display. They looked more like art forms than edible crap you'd see at Starbucks. Each dessert was different delicately presented. The brownies were drizzled with swirling designs and patterns. Made with care. If Zoro was into sweets, he might have been interested. Be as it were, he had no fondness for pastries.

The menu billboard was solely made up of various drinks in the centre. Spanning out from the central billboard was food items and desert. Apparently this place did more than just the regular coffee shit. It also made lunch items and dinner items. Zoro was taken aback at the amount of choice. No wonder Johnny and Yosaku and Luffy were in here all the time. Those three liked to eat.

"How can I help you?" came a deeper voice than Zoro anticipated, and he turned to see the barista.

Instantly his mouth dried up, and his eyes widened a bit more. The barista was blonde, and lean, but not the least bit fruity looking at all. He wore a crisp white shirt, with a black tie around his neck. His delicious, white neck was highlighted by the collar and black fabric leading on up to it. His neck headed up to an equally fair face, with blonde- natural yellowy blonde, not some bleached bullshit- hair that swept across his head, covering one eye, but leaving the other, a natural blue eye, completely exposed. He had a slightly curly eyebrow above his head, which was totally bizarre but intriguing all at once.

Why the hell was this guy promoting himself so cheaply?

Now, to make some sense, Zoro had no qualms about his sexuality. As far as he was concerned, men and women were equal in all senses, and therefore, he saw no issues with being with either. Nor was his bisexuality any secret. He was, after all, pretty popular around East Blue High, being the school's kendo champion and the 'Demon of the East Blue'. People who had a problem with him often found themselves on the other end of the sword, if they were lucky. Attraction was attraction.

And god was he _attracted_ to this blonde.

"You going to order something?" asked the barista, impassive and unimpressed.

Zoro snapped out of his daze, and gave the menu a look over with his dark eyes. It was thanks to years of meditation and control that he didn't fidget about the fact that he was dressed in a ratty pair of jeans, and ugly band t-shirt from some concert Johnny had dragged him out to and was not the least bit impressive. And he probably reeked of sweat from practice. Of all the days to skip his shower.

"What's good?" asked Zoro casually, as he stepped closer to the counter and pulled out his torn up wallet.

"Everything shit-head," snapped the barista, and for someone making a desperate with the sign at the door, he was rather obnoxious. It ticked Zoro off.

"Isn't their a manual saying be nice to the customer, asshole?" tossed Zoro back, his usually calm exterior slipping, "No wonder you're_ desperately single_."

The barista's jaw dropped, and the customers behind Zoro giggled as he stared at the blonde, before the blonde suddenly flushed. A delicious, pink flush climbed across his cheeks, and god it was hot. That train of thought was broken off by the angry splutter that slipped from the blonde as he said, "What- You fucker- How dare you?!"

"Whatever," said Zoro impassively, "I'm not interested in the recommendation anyway. Get me a fucking medium Americano."

The blonde glared hatefully at him, and Zoro was under the impression that he was two seconds away from being kicked out, until the other teen just dutifully typed it into the cash register, before glaring coolly at him and asking, "Anything else, moss-head?"

Zoro's hand automatically went to his green hair, and he scowled. The blonde was smirking at the petty victory, but Zoro snapped back, "A sandwich. The one with wasabi and tuna, curly-brow. To go."

"Curly- Fine you bastard," snapped the blonde, glaring hatefully at him before ringing the order up and charging Zoro six beri and ninety three cents. Zoro handed him a ten, and the fucker made sure to give Zoro all his change in fucking pennies. Zoro scowled at the handful of tiny coins he now had. The blonde had even gone to the extent of opening up two rolls of coins to annoy the hell out of him.

Zoro dutifully stepped aside, shoving the pennies into his wallet with a scowl and watched as the next set of customers went up while his coffee was being brewed. The customers behind him were three kids. They were Usopp's neighbours if he remembered correctly, having recognized their faces as the little shits that followed Usopp around on Syrup Street, which was only really a block away from Zoro's place. The four shits were always coming over to watch Zoro train.

They ordered, giggling as Sanji turned his back and pulled out two brownies and headed off to get the third brat a fresh lemonade. He was back in seconds, and didn't even flinch when the kids handed over the money. Zoro realized they were short two dollars, but the barista merely waved them off, before heading to grab Zoro's sandwich and coffee from the kitchen behind him.

That confused Zoro. He'd never seen a coffee shop that had a kitchen where food and drink was made. As far as he knew, those things were always made directly in front of the customer. But this shop was different. Unique. He kind of liked it.

"Here," said the blonde, shoving the sandwich and coffee at him. It smelled fucking fantastic, and the sandwich was kind of amazing.

Zoro gave the blonde another lookover, trying to figure it out. He wasn't an ugly sort of guy, and he had a terrible personality, or at least, to Zoro he did. He seemed sort of nice. Besides, Zoro wondered how passionate he could be when he wasn't fighting.

"You got a napkin or something?" asked Zoro, as the barista saw some customers heading over to the booths to sit down. Normally, at this point, a waiter should probably head over. The barista _was_ the fucking waiter, judging from the notepad he pulled out of the blue apron tied around his waist, that Zoro only now noticed. Did he do everything in this damn shop? Then again, it was pretty quiet.

"What do you want napkins for? Just wipe it on that shit shirt you shitt- Hey!," said the waiter-barista hatefully, but Zoro ignored him as he took the pen and notepad from his hand, and the waiter cried out angrily. Zoro ignored him as he quickly scribbled his number across, and at the bottom left his name.

"Here," said Zoro, tossing it back at him, before he left, a little lift in his step at the day he just had.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own One Piece**

**Second chapter. Moving the plot along a bit quickly, but meh.**

**RECAP: Zoro enters the Baratie Coffeehouse, meets Sanji, sees a signboard promoting Sanji as gay and looking for love. He argues with the blonde, and then leaves his number. Sanji is confused as Zoro leaves.**

**Also, note, Zoro does not have his earrings yet! **

* * *

**Outbursts**

Sanji was having a miserable fucking day. For some reason, all the customers seemed to be making comments about his love life. Some saying they knew people who'd be interested in dating him since he was single now, one lady letting him know she had a cousin in Grand Line city with a boy his way that might be interested. The fucking problem was, he had no fucking clue what she meant.

The weirdest part of it all was the guy who'd left his number. After he'd read the note twice, the name suddenly struck him. Zoro. Shit. He knew the name from around school. The guy was famous for being the school Kendo champion. They said he had the potential to make it in the Grand Line. Not that it really mattered to Sanji. He just had no clue why the guy had left his number. Did he want to arrange a fight to kill Sanji for ticking him off? Meatheads like that were always looking for a fight.

Considering it was a Monday, he didn't expect any other customers, and thus, shut the shop's front doors a little early at eight o'clock. As he turned around, he finally came to terms with the message on the black board by the entrance. That's when he realized what was going on. His eyes widened, though only one could actually be seen.

"What the fucking hell?!" he cried, lifting the board up and storming into the kitchen, where Patty and Carne were closing up for the night. Zeff would probably take the night shift to whip up the breakfast items.

The two saw the board, Sanji's red face, and dissolved into laughter. Ten minutes later, the two were smarting a bruise across their chest from where the board had landed, and where Sanji had kicked them after, but it was so worth it. Well, at least to the chefs. Sanji was fuming as he stormed upstairs, passing a curious looking Zeff in his office, and heading to his bedroom.

Above the Baratie was Sanji and Zeff's apartment. It was sparse, considering both of them spent their lives in the Baratie, but that worked for them. The main room was a living room, with a small coffee table between two black sofas, not leather but some cheap fabric from some cheap store many years ago when they were just starting out. A small, old television was forced in front of the coffee table, but Sanji was pretty sure they had cut the cable a long time ago. He wasn't positive though, since he hadn't turned the thing on in a full year.

The kitchen was behind the tiny living area, with a small table with two chairs forced across it. The kitchen was clean and spotless, as usual. He passed the empty house, knowing Zeff was probably still in his office downstairs, and headed to his bedroom.

The bedroom looked out to the sea. He and Zeff had fought over this room, but Zeff had given it to him anyways after realizing his office had a better view. After all, the fucking tree did block a good deal of the view anyways.

Sanji ignored the view to flump down on the bed, pulling out the note with Zoro's name and number. He now remembered the other rumor about the guy. Bisexual. Fucking hell. He had just been propositioned by the school's fucking Kendo champion who thought he was gay.

Sanji clearly wasn't thinking straight. Instead of tearing the number to shreds, he tossed it on his desk, and loosened his tie to think. Zoro had propositioned him. Like, fucking asked him out. This was not fucking good. He thought _Sanji _was gay. Wait a minute. What fucker insulted someone and then asked them out?!

It was that thought that made him open his cell-phone and dial the fucker. Three rings later, a groggy voice answered, "Hello?" He was probably asleep before Sanji had called. The blonde felt no remorse as he yelled, "Who the fuck do you think you are?!"

"Who the fuck is this?!" came the other teenager's reply, instantly awake.

"I'll have you know I'm not fucking gay you shitty moss-head! And what kind of technique is that!?" ranted Sanji, "Who the fuck insults somebody and then leaves their fucking number?! Did you take one too many blows to the fuckin-

"Curly-brow?!" demanded the other guy, suddenly realizing who it was, and Sanji glowered at his bedroom wall, "What- Why the fuck are you yelling?!"

"I'm not gay!" screamed Sanji into the phone.

Then it was quiet, as Sanji took a deep breath to calm himself, and the other guy quietly said, "What the fuck?"

"The sign- That was my shitty fucking coworkers playing a fucking joke! I'm not gay! I'm totally a thousand fucking percent straight and you- you- fuck you!" said Sanji angrily, "I'm not interested."

There was a pause, and then, "So why the fuck are you calling me?"

"Because- Because- I'm not gay!" came the reply, and Sanji sat back, feeling dizzy. Why _was_ he calling Zoro?

There was a silent pause, and then the swordsman grunted as he said, "I get that. So why the fuck are you calling me? Is that it?"

Sanji paused, feeling a bit delirious. And then he hung up.

* * *

Zoro stared incredulously at his phone as he sat up from the couch. After coming back home that night, he had honestly not expected a phone call. He'd just headed home and crashed on his couch, his muscles still feeling deliciously sore from practise. Then the phone call came, and a grating voice was yelling in his hear, raspier than Zoro remembered thanks to the phone. It took Zoro several minutes to realize it was the shitty barista.

Then the barista hung up.

Zoro stared at his phone, trying to figure out if that really just happened. Then he burst into laughter. The blonde was absolutely nuts. It was pretty damn funny. He couldn't believe the blonde was so defensive over his sexuality that he'd called Zoro to yell about it. He could practically picture his red flushed face in his mind. It was a damn shame either way.

The doorbell rang, and Zoro picked himself up and walked to the front door, out of the living room and passing the stairs to his bedroom. Outside the door was a pig-tailed girl, dressed in a blue and black striped hoodie and jeans, standing there and beaming at him with all the self-imposed importance twelve year old kids had. In her hand was the reason she was here. A large container and a thermos.

"Rika," he said casually, "Come inside."

"Zoro! How was your day? Mum sent over a bentou for you!" she said happily, leading him into his kitchen. It was a sign of how undomesticated he was that Rika knew where the plates and chopsticks were and he floundered to find the cups until she reminded him they were in the red cabinet. She'd sticker coded them when she discovered he still couldn't find things. He had a feeling she'd label them soon enough.

"You can tell Ririka she doesn't have to keep feeding me," said Zoro sheepishly, but he didn't deny himself the leftover yakiniku Ririka probably made with him in mind, considering it was a large piece of meat, and the vegetables she'd lightly stir-fried beside it. The meat was juicy and tender, and the vegetables just a bit crisper than cooked.

"You know mom," said Rika easily, "Japanese stick together and something."

"She's a good lady," agreed Zoro, and they ate in a comfortable silence, he eating his meat, while Rika drank the hot chocolate she'd brought with her. After Rika had watched him eat his entire dinner, she pounced.

"So, why were you so happy when I got here? And don't tell me it's about the dinner," said Rika lightly.

"Phone call," grunted Zoro back, as he put the dishes in the sink. Rika was behind him, already cleaning them as they both knew Zoro would let the dishes rot until Ririka came over and yelled at him about it and thus put Zoro into a shamed state to clean his dishes for the next week before he just forgot about it again.

"From a friend?" asked Rika, sounding amazed.

"I have friends," said Zoro with a frown.

"Not friends you talk to on the phone," said Rika pointedly. Cheeky little brat. He preferred her when she was still ten and saw her as the hero who saved her from that bratty bully Helmeppo who lived up Shell Street.

"If you plan to use the television, you'll shut up," grunted Zoro back, before he headed to the living room with Rika following and chattering away about school and the cell phone she wanted, and then the two were quiet as Rika used the big screen to watch her television dramas.

* * *

The next day at school, Sanji was still fuming. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been to actually call Zoro. He was still fuming and humiliated as he finished his test in history. Mr. Anjo, an avid fan of war and weaponry and rebels, had just finished teaching them about the First World War, and while Sanji cared little for history, it was an easy course to pass if you were able to recite battle and weaponry to the man. And if you threw in a comparison to Gol. D Roger somewhere in there, you were guaranteed to ace the course.

As Sanji left the classroom, he meandered over to the counsellor, Mr. Woop-Slap's office. This was not the first time he had been called there this year. It was probably not going to be the last either. Woop-Slap's office was by the gyms, with the main office, and it always had a bit of a funky smell. Nonetheless, Sanji braved the stench to arrive at the main office.

The secretary, Chiken, was seated in her regular spot. The matronly woman was plump, short, and had a sweet disposition. She beamed at Sanji, and pointed him to a chair.

He sighed and sat back, knowing what this was about. As he sat down, he glanced over his clothes again. His blue and white striped shirt was neat and pressed, with a black pair of jeans that was also neatly pressed. His hair was covered in hair spray, his shoes shined. He was practically the poster boy for good behavior. And still he was always in Woop-Slap's damn office almost every week. At least he didn't live right next door to man like Luffy did. Luffy got lectured practically every day about he was putting the East Blue to shame by trying to emulate Gol D. Roger.

"Send the boy in!" crowed the old man, and Chiken made a face, before picking up the phone to dial a number.

Sanji was already inside Woop-Slap's office by the time Chiken started to talk. Woop-Slap was not only the guidance counsellor, or at least, an unofficial counsellor, but also the principal. Who had too much spare time, thought Sanji, as he took a seat across from the eccentric old principal. As per usual, the man was staring at him with a short beard and moustache, his glasses slightly falling down his bulbous nose.

"Mr. Black," said the man, glaring at Sanji. He was skipping the nice guy act to go directly for intimidation today. "Have you considered the options I presented you last week?"

"I have," said Sanji with a nod, "And I'm confident that my decision was the right one."

"Mr. Black! I think you're selling yourself short!" said Woop-Slap, scandalized, "You have so much potential! At least consider-

"Mr. Woop Slap, I- I've made up my mind a long time ago," said Sanji deliberately, "I think we're done here."

And Sanji rose. For once, Mr. Woop-Slap was quiet, not saying a word about the situation. Instead, he was quiet, contemplative. Sanji felt unnerved, so he walked out. His heart was pounding, and he saw Chiken's concerned glance, but he ignored it. He needed air. Lots and lots of air. And a kitchen. He needed to cook something.

As he walked, he suddenly heard the sound of something smashing. He turned, and headed in that direction, somewhat stunned. It was coming from the gym. He opened it, only to see the Kendo team practicing. More specifically, Zoro was practicing.

He stopped in his tracks.

Zoro was wearing his Kendo gear, a green robe that matched his hair, highlighting his bronze tone. He had two swords in his hands, wooden swords, but swords nonetheless. One of the junior member of the teams, Yaku or something, was flat on his back, looking stunned. Zoro grinned at him, and Sanji felt a shiver go down his spine at that grin. It was dark, and dangerous, as the bronze warrior's eyes narrowed, and his entire face lit up.

"Next!" called Zoro, and the next member of the team went up. Sanji watched, mesmerized. He had no idea what sort of training they were doing, but apparently, Zoro was going against the entire team of twelve or thirteen. The youngest members, probably the freshmen, were still learning the basics of the sword and were watching from the sidelines. The coach, Koshiro, was watching their technique from the side.

The most intriguing part of this was that it was nothing like the few kendo tournaments Sanji had seen before. The styles were different. No two people had the same style. Zoro had two swords, and he wasn't the only one. Two other boys had two swords as well. Zoro took them down without breaking a sweat.

He moved quicker than a guy his size should. He was effortless and graceful as he danced with the sword, parrying the other guy's thrusts and movements with his own. His sword rose up, matching the student's, while the second danced outwards. They were done. It was oddly disappointing to watch Zoro fight. His level of skill was too apparent. Sanji almost wondered what the man would be like if he was fighting someone who provided real competition.

The last person to go up was equally as famous as Zoro. Cabaji was well known for always taking second place. He was in a few of Sanji's classes, and a bit of an annoying fuck. But watching him fight Zoro, Sanji almost had respect. Cabaji struck low and fast, before _flipping _fucking backward to avoid Zoro's swords. Zoro was unimpressed, as he struck out with his second sword to smack Cabaji's leg and sending the other guy tumbling backwards. Cabaji was up in seconds, and struck out at Zoro's knees.

Then the fight started to degrade. Cabaji was getting more and more desperate, as Zoro blocked the other guy's swords that came to strike down fast and hard. Zoro lashed out, his arm muscles rippling as he brought his sword to strike across Cabaji's chest. Cabaji ducked and ran at Zoro, slashing into Zoro's sides. Zoro grunted, but moved backwards to block the blow. He used the second sword to defend as Cabaji tried again.

Cabaji _kicked _out, this time snapping Zoro's side where he'd hit earlier. Zoro didn't flinch, but several of the other team members were calling foul, and at that point, Koshiro ended the fight. Sanji's own heart was pumping with adrenaline, anger flooding his chest. The fucking cheap shot!

Zoro accepted a towel from another member of the team, Johnny from English class, and then saw Sanji. Their eyes met, and Sanji was stunned by those dark, dangerous looking black eyes, boring into his own. He swallowed, and suddenly Zoro was beside him, and he was staring into those eyes right in front of his face.

"What are you doing here dart-brow?" asked Zoro, not coming off particularly aggressive, but not entirely pleased either.

"I- What the fuck is this?!" asked Sanji, clearing his throat and tearing his gaze away as he pointed to the team, "That's clearly not Kendo!"

Zoro frowned, but didn't say anything. Instead, he glanced back at the team that was starting to disperse after that last exercise. His frown deepened, and he sighed as though he wasn't surprised practice was over so soon.

"Wait here and I'll explain when I get back," said Zoro flippantly, before he headed off to the locker room.

Sanji found to his surprise that he was still waiting when Zoro came back.

* * *

Zoro wasn't easily surprised. Probably because he just didn't let things get to him. As he was changing in the locker room, he heard the other boys hiss and make sympathetic comments about the bruise developing above his hip bone, but he ignored them. It was his own fault for not realized Cabaji would pull that move. The fucker was pretty predictable in his unpredictability. He ignored everyone as he changed, and then headed back outside to find the blonde still standing where he left them.

He couldn't help checking the blonde out, despite the vehement assurance that he wasn't gay. The guy had amazing legs, anyone could tell with those jeans. His back was turned, so Zoro got a nice view of that ass. An amazing ass that should never be behind the counter. Bent over, yes, god yes. He wanted to see the blonde bent over a counter, more than anything.

Shaking away that thought, that deliciously sinful thought, he tapped the blonde on the shoulder. He turned, and Zoro caught whiff of some kind of cologne. It wasn't a bad smell, but it was extremely overpowering and for the life of him Zoro couldn't figure out why anyone would spray what must have been half a bottle onto their body. It was sort of disgusting.

"Well?" asked the blonde, as the two headed out. Zoro had his backpack slung over his shoulder, unlike the blonde who carried a frigging man-purse to school. How was he_ not_ gay?

Zoro took a deep breath and then grinned, remembering the blonde's question. He turned and casually asked, "Ever heard of the One Piece?"

"The One Piece? You mean- that League thing?" asked Sanji, a little taken aback.

"It's a rumor, pretty cheap rumor," said Zoro casually, "But the idea is that the GLFL grants the One Piece to strong fighters. There's a whole list of criteria, but the One Piece is the grandest title the GLFL offers."

"The GLFL? You mean the fighter's league?" asked Sanji, following the conversation now, "Yeah I've heard of that. The One Piece is supposedly granted to the strongest person that enters the GLFL, right? Luffy wants to win that, but isn't it supposed to be like, illegal fighting?"

Zoro nodded and tacked on, "Only one person's won it before, and that was Gol. D Roger before his assassination."

They both took a moment to let that sink in. It was no secret story. The Grand Line's Fighter's League was a pretty famous association. They fought televised matches of different kind, using different techniques. Gol D Roger had been considered the best of the best until his mysterious death right in their hometown. It was the only reason people visited the East Blue, to see the spot where Roger died. Zeff had often spoke of the GLFL's prowess when Roger was alive, telling Sanji the tale when he'd been just a kid.

"So that's it? You're going to try and win a mystery reward? Good luck with that, shit-head. What does that have to do with the Kendo club being nothing like Kendo?" asked Sanji skeptically, and then he snorted. Trust the muscle head to have such a stupid ambition.

"I don't give a fuck about the One Piece. Luffy can chase after that," said Zoro irritatedly, as he glared back at Sanji, "Besides, it's not a reward offered by the GLFL. After Roger's death, he left a message, like a suicide note, claiming the One Piece existed. But because of that, every Tom, Dick and Harry who can fight goes to the city to join the GLFL. But the GLFL's just a front."

Again, common knowledge. The IFL's was a front for the GLPL, a league of fighters that was supposedly 'dirty' fighting, with high-stakes betting, and danger at every corner.

"It's a front for the GLPL," said Zoro with a grin, "The Grand Line's Pirate League. Stupid name, but the largest underground fight club to ever exist. And it's famous for boosting fighter's like that. You fight anyone and everyone, any style, no hold's barred. And the winners move around a lot, gaining fancy titles. What you saw back there was kind of like that. Koshiro doesn't believe in teaching one style of martial art, so he teaches us all kinds of swords techniques. Kendo just happens to be the main focus. And then we get to free-style with each other."

"But- But- all the trophies-

"Still happen," said Zoro casually, "But that's more official jargon so Woop-Slap doesn't question into it too much. This is the real training."

He watched the blonde simmer in those words, taking in what Zoro was saying, before giving Zoro a skeptical look as they left East Blue High behind and headed outdoors onto the street towards the Town Square where all the shops were, and where the roads diverged.

"So- You're telling me that you're running a mini-GLPL in the school?" asked Sanji, a little stunned.

"Yep," said Zoro with a wide grin, his face blooming with excitement, "And it's not like Koshiro's training us against everyone. He's just preparing us, y'know?"

"Fuck," said the blonde, amazed, "But you're all swordsman! How is that proper preparation if you're just fighting other swordsmen?"

"It's not the best," agreed Zoro, "But occasionally he invites the boxing club by, and whatnot. The point is to train and fight one another whenever we can. And besides, this is still a school. The real stuff begins when we get to the Grand Line."

"Fuck," said the blonde again, "That's pretty- wow. So then that's your plan? Join the GLPL?"

Zoro wasn't surprised the blonde figured it out. He grinned, his eyes gleaming as he nodded with pride and said, "Join the GLPL and win. A lot."

"Win what? If you're not going for the One Piece, then why bother?" asked Sanji, confused.

"It's not about the One Piece," said Zoro with an impatient glance, "It's about the title. I'm going to be the World's Greatest Swordsman!"

He didn't know why he was sharing all this with the blonde, dumping his ambition onto him. But there was something about him that was easy to talk to. The blonde wasn't going to judge him. He just knew it. Besides, there was nothing wrong with telling the world. After all, he was positive he was going to get there.

"That's pretty- wow," said the other guy, after a bit of contemplation and hesitation. But his face still seemed impressed. "Good luck, I guess."

"Thanks," said Zoro with a grin.

"You want a coffee?" asked Sanji suddenly, as they headed in the direction of his store and Zoro's house.

"Definitely."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own One Piece**

**Third chapter. **

**RECAP: Zoro shared his goal to join the GLFL with Sanji and that he wants to be the world's greatest swordsman. The two reach a sort of truce. **

**Also, note, Zoro does not have his earrings yet! **

* * *

**Running**

Somehow, after that cataclysmic first meeting, Zoro and Sanji ended up becoming sort-of friends, sort of enemies. Zoro still thought the blonde was a fucking moron, especially once he witnessed Sanji's attempt at flirting, but he stayed because he was attracted to the blonde, and because the blonde was just good fucking company. Sanji still thought Zoro was a fucking idiot, especially after he tried to send Zoro to buy some milk and Zoro ended up on the other side of town, but he respected Zoro a lot, and found him to be just good fucking company.

Everyday after practice, Zoro would stop by for a coffee. He was now sitting at the cafe, and Sanji knew his order by heart. The two would shoot the shit about teachers, Zoro's training, and just anything in general. Around six o'clock, Nami and Usopp would come in, and for some reason, they'd join Zoro, which was how Zoro was introduced to the witch. She'd paid for them once, and somehow Zoro owed her fifty beri for not paying her back. But she was pretty funny once they got to it. And she took care of Usopp and Luffy.

He was still a little ticked off that neither Luffy nor Usopp had introduced him to the blonde, but quickly he realized that they only knew Sanji through the cafe, and that he'd been the one to turn them down in favor of training or sleeping. Still though, he felt like he'd known the blonde forever.

So today when the blonde stormed out of the cafe, he was compelled to follow. Leaving behind half a coffee and the front store in Patty's questionable hands, he followed Sanji outside. The blonde looked furious, and it was pretty fucking funny. To his surprise, the blonde ducked into an alleyway, and Zoro was amazed as he dug into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes.

"Sanji?" asked Zoro questioningly, as the man fumbled with a lighter, and then pulled out a cigarette, gracefully lit it, and then took a drag in the span of a second. He didn't cough, didn't falter, just leaned back into the wall, a blissful expression taking his features. Probably how he looked after sex, after the orgasm. A theory Zoro would never prove true.

"Oh- hey," said Sanji, glancing at him.

"You smoke," said Zoro, silently demanding the back-story.

"I was thirteen and the guy who used to deliver our groceries offered me a smoke," said Sanji with a grin, as he slumped down to the ground in that dirty alleyway, "Never looked back since."

"The cologne," said Zoro suddenly, "That's why you smell like a perfume shop. It's to cover the cigarettes."

"Zeff hates the habit," said Sanji, as he brought his thin fingers back up to his lips, taking another drag. Zoro was amazed at the way his lips pursed around the thin cigarette, before twisting to blow out the smoke. He was completely at peace. "And it's not allowed at school. If they catch a whiff they'll check my bag and locker, and then Zeff will realize I'm smoking."

"He doesn't seem like that," said Zoro, sitting down beside Sanji and admiring the way the blonde looked when he was relaxed.

"He doesn't give a fuck about the fact that I'm underage if that's what you mean," said Sanji with a grin, "He just hates that it dulls the taste buds. Makes you a bad chef."

"You cook?" asked Zoro, amazed.

"I'm a chef, not a cook!" said Sanji with a glare, "And yeah. What the hell do you think I do at night?"

"Wank," said Zoro casually, and Sanji spluttered, before they both burst into laughter.

"You're a bastard," said Sanji with a glare, but he was still grinning about it.

"So, you any good ero-cook?" asked Zoro with a raised eyebrow.

"Good? I'm the fucking best!" said Sanji, spluttering, before he grinned and said, "Tonight. AT your place. Let's go."

"What?" asked Zoro, gaping.

"I'm going to cook for you shithead! Now c'mon!" said Sanji, getting up and leading them out of the alley and towards Zoro's house.

* * *

It was as he was fumbling with the keys that Sanji realized Zoro was nervous to have him over at his house. It was sort of weird to see Zoro nervous, but Sanji thought it was pretty fucking funny. The meat head was acting all antsy and jumpy as he shoved away his dirty clothes into a nearby coat closet and directed Sanji and their newly bought groceries to the kitchen.

Then the doorbell rang.

Sanji gazed curiously past Zoro as the swordsman opened the door to reveal a small brunette girl, who was already holding a container of food. Both of them paused awkwardly, as the girl saw Sanji and Zoro.

"Oh!" said the girl, gasping, "I didn't know you had friends Zoro! You should have told mom!"

"Sister?" asked Sanji, a little confused.

"Rika!" exclaimed Zoro, "He's not my friend! He's just- nevermind. Just give me the fucking container and get."

The girl giggled as she handed him the container, and Zoro flushed as she headed off. Sanji watched the exchange in amusement, before realizing the container had a meal. Curious, Sanji raised his visible eyebrow as they returned to the kitchen.

"Rika's mom cooks for me," explained Zoro, as he tucked it into the fridge, "Rika comes over and then watches T.V here."

"I thought so," said Sanji with a shrug, "But why?"

"My dad," said Zoro with a grimace, "He works for the government, so he travels a lot. Honestly, he's only home for about a week every few months or so. I used to have a nanny, but after she passed away when I was fifteen, we just agreed to this. I didn't want anyone taking care of me. Rika's mom does it instead."

"That's pretty nice of her," said Sanji quietly, thinking about his father-son relationship, and the source of his current frustration. It was so different from the easy father-son relationship Zoro had with his dad.

"Yeah. So, are you going to cook?" asked Zoro, as he took a seat on the bar stool at the counter.

"Course," said Sanji with a nod, "Where are the knives?"

Zoro stared at him blankly in response. Sanji gaped at the man. He honestly had no clue how to work a kitchen! After muttering a few expletives, and another argument, Sanji managed to figure out the sticker coding system, and find a decent, unused set of cooking knives, a chopping board that had seen better days, and two pans that looked brand-spanking new. He grabbed a pan from the oven, that looked clean, but still he cleaned it again. It was pretty fucking awful; the state of Zoro's kitchen.

Immediately Sanji set to work, quiet and in his element. He never preferred talking in the kitchen. He'd had to sneak into his own house and grab the spices, not wanting to waste money on buying Zoro a set he'd probably never use. Nonetheless, it was worth it.

The first thing he did was toss the various spices into the smaller pan, mixing peppercorn, coriander seeds, cumin seeds, mustard seeds, garlic cloves, fennel seeds, cardamom pods, a cinnamon stick, and salt into the pan. As the aromas lifted off the pan, he inhaled, and then relaxed. Any nervousness about cooking for Zoro faded into white noise as he moved easily through the kitchen. Five minutes later, he was transferring the spice mixture into his coffee grinder (Zeff had bought it for him three years ago) and then began rubbing it onto the hulk of beef that they'd bought at the grocery store. Zoro had plucked the biggest fucking piece up. Immediately it went to the bigger pan, browned, and then he tucked it into the oven to roast.

Hands were washed again. Then he moved on to make the salad. After learning Zoro was from Japan, he'd wanted to experiment more with Japanese styled foods. Getting out a pot, he began boiling water with some salt, while washing the pans. The peas were blanched, and then he hit a problem. Zoro had no colander to drain the fucking peas. Grumbling and swearing restarted as he had to scoop the peas out with a fucking spoon. Somewhere in that mess, Zoro apologized and helped him scoop the peas out.

And it devolved into a competition.

"Don't fucking splash me shit cook!" yelled Zoro angrily.

"Drop the second fucking spoon!" came Sanji's reply, "You're squishing them!"

Zoro was banned back to his stool.

Sanji moved on, grabbing the kohlrabi bulbs. They were a bit difficult to find, but Sanji knew the guy who ran the vegetable market, and he pulled them out when Sanji asked. Once he had peeled and julienned them, he tossed them into a bowl with some shoots. Sesame seeds were ground and toasted in the small pan again, before adding them to the bowl. He tossed the peas in, and then quickly blended soy sauce, some water, mirin he'd stolen from Zeff's cabinet, and water to together to make the dressing. The beef was pulled out and cut into pieces, placed onto a plate. And it was done.

"That was pretty impressive," said Zoro, as Sanji finally took a breath. He was grinning madly, but it had been so long since he'd challenged himself outside of the usual recipes he made at the cafe.

"Thanks," said Sanji with a grin, "Try it."

He shoved Zoro's plate forward, as he went ahead and pulled out two mugs (he winced at that) and poured the two of them some wine. Zoro knew a guy who didn't check IDs. Sanji wasn't too sure about it. Zoro had just showed up with the booze after going missing for ten minutes.

"It's- not bad," said Zoro finally, after he took the first bite of the beef. But Sanji knew better. Zoro's eyes had widened considerably, and he had this amazed look on his face. Sanji was grinning ear to ear, and he felt like he'd just won a race.

"Fuck you're a shitty liar," said Sanji with a grin, "It's fucking amazing, that's what it is."

"It's not bad for a dart-brow," said Zoro, as he dug into the meat, practically moaning (in Sanji's mind) over the taste. "You know, this is pretty fucking girly of you. Making me dinner."

Sanji suddenly stopped, wine halfway to his lips. Then he suddenly remembered a helluva lot of things. One, Zoro and he had only become friends because Zoro had tried to pick him up. And then they were here, with Sanji making him dinner, with wine, in a low light setting (Because two of the lights in Zoro's kitchen were missing bulbs). This was like a fucking date!

"I'm not gay fucker!" came the reply, and Sanji glared at him, "And I'm no fucking girl. Now shut up and eat."

Wisely, Zoro didn't broach that topic as they ate in a slightly awkward, and then pleasant silence.

* * *

After dinner, Zoro and Sanji and the bottle of wine relocated to the living room to talk and just be themselves. Sanji had done the dishes before putting everything away. The leftover beef and salad were made into a container so Zoro didn't have to buy lunch tomorrow.

"So, want to tell me why you left work early?" asked Zoro curiously, as the two sat down.

The cook was a pretty fantastic chef, if Zoro had to admit it. Not that he would, of course. Instead, he preferred wine and awkward insults. Despite the very date-like atmosphere, he was trying to ignore that trail of thought. Even if the cook was wearing those black jeans again.

"The shitty old man and Woop-Slap had a fucking conversation about my future," said Sanji with a scowl, glaring furiously at the counter, "And apparently think I'm making the wrong fucking decisions with my life."

"Why? What did you tell them?" asked Zoro, confused. Now that he thought about it, for a guy he thought he'd known his entire life, he didn't know shit about the cook.

"Zeff," said Sanji with a grimace, "He's- I mean- He's not my real dad. I- we- I mean- Fuck. My dad used to work on a cruise-liner back when I was younger. I grew up in the kitchens. My mom had left us a long fucking time ago, and I don't even remember her. Anyways, the cruise-liner got caught in a bad storm one night, and it was a small boat. We capsized. I don't know what happened to the rest of the survivors, but my dad didn't make it. Zeff did. Long story short, Zeff adopts me, and we open the Baratie."

"Fuck," said Zoro, as Sanji took another drink of the wine, "That's pretty awful."

He didn't apologize. He doubted Sanji would appreciate it. Besides, he knew what awful felt like. He listened, however, as Sanji continued and said, "I've worked at the Baratie my whole fucking life. Every day, I was there, peeling shit and cutting things and the old bastard hovered over me, made sure I didn't fucking cut myself and whatnot. He thinks I'm just going to fucking leave the Baratie behind!"

"He wants you to go?" asked Zoro, surprised.

"He thinks I have opportunity in the city," corrected Sanji miserably, "And I don't want the opportunity! I'm fucking fine right here, at the Baratie."

Zoro stared at the way Sanji's hand tightened around the mug, and his shifty blue eye, avoiding Zoro's face. His skin was pink. There was more to the story than Sanji was saying, but Zoro didn't comment. Instead, he let the thought simmer.

Then he said, "Are you?"

"Yeah," said Sanji, and Zoro knew he was lying, but he let it go.

The rest of the night moved into safer topics, like Sanji's cooking and his childhood at the Baratie. Zoro didn't talk much, instead letting Sanji try and convince him that the Baratie was what he wanted. They both ended up crashing in the living room on the black couch, both wondering if Sanji really wanted a life at the Baratie.

* * *

**Review Replies: **

S. miyuki: Thank you! I love writing this, so :) And building the background and universe is my favorite part! I'm glad the interactions are coming across well. I feel they're too friendly right now, but well, it is a different universe . As for the updates, it's every 5 days, so that's my schedule. Vague, I know, but the next one will be up on Nov. 24. Also, on the note of the summary, thanks for letting me know. I'll rework it a bit, so that it's less... cliche?


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Don't own One Piece**

**Third chapter. **

**RECAP: Zoro shared his goal to join the GLFL with Sanji and that he wants to be the world's greatest swordsman. The two reach a sort of truce. **

**Also, note, Zoro does not have his earrings yet! **

* * *

**Building**

The next week brought them even closer to Sanji's eventual demise. He just didn't know it yet.

His fight with Zeff had escalated, and neither of them were talking to each other. As a result, he had nowhere really to go after school since he was banned from the Baratie. Well, it wasn't so much a ban as it was that it had the possibility of running into Zeff, which resulted in an eventual shouting match. He didn't know why the old man was even bothering. It was too late to do anything anyways. Thus, he'd ended up at Zoro's place, cooking for the fiend.

"I don't think my kitchen has ever been used like this before," commented Zoro, as Sanji cooked a light stir-fry for the two to eat.

"Please," said Sanji with a lecherous grin, "It was practically a virgin until I broke it in."

"Oh really?" commented Zoro, grinning easily, before the two burst into giggles like schoolboys.

As Sanji caught his breath, he stood to catch sight of Zoro. Zoro who was currently pumping his arm up and down while lifting a weight. His breath caught for a second. Ever since he'd befriended Zoro, he was constantly amazed at the sheer Zoro-ness of the man. He was completely oblivious to everything around him that deviated from his goal. It was sort of intoxicating being around someone who was so completely devoted to his dream.

Maybe that's why Zoro was attractive. Not to him. And not in any _sexual_ sort of way. It was just- there. Like today, for instance. At the butcher's, one of the counter girls had started to flirt with Zoro. It had completely thrown Sanji off when Zoro hadn't shrugged her off, and had casually accepted her number. He was still reeling from that moment.

"So, the girl at the meat shop, you going to call?" asked Sanji casually, as he added in the meat to the stir-fry he was making for the two of them.

"Huh? Maybe," said Zoro with a shrug, "Probably not. She looks like she wants a relationship, and I don't really do relationships."

"Why?" asked Sanji, taken aback.

"Gets in the way," said Zoro with a grunt, "They always want to go on dates, or call late at night and text, and I have to train."

"So what- picking me up was just to get a free night of sex?" asked Sanji, a bit affronted.

Zoro shrugged, "Well, you cooking in my kitchen sure wasn't a part of the plan. I'm pretty sure the stove will never be the same again."

"It might mutiny and kill you when Zeff eventually gets over himself and I have to leave," agreed Sanji solemnly, though he was still a little irked at the thought of just being a casual lay to Zoro. Fucking Zoro.

Zoro shook his head and then the phone rang. It was such a strange thing to happen in the usually silent and empty house that Sanji actually jumped. Zoro was much calmer, and just grabbed the phone from the receiver in the kitchen, behind the toaster.

"Hello?" he said into the phone, and then scowled as he said, "Dad."

With a quick glance at Sanji, he left the room. That was fucking weird.

Sanji had gotten so used to Zoro living alone that he'd forgotten that Zoro even had a father. He shrugged it off, preferring to continue with the stir-fry. Once it was done, he poured it over the rice he'd made in the pot since Zoro obviously had no rice-cooker. Still muttering profanities about the state of Zoro's kitchen, he set about cutting the parsley and spring-onions to garnish their plates with.

Zoro came back with a blank expression. Sanji had learned to recognize that expression as his angry-but-more-disappointed face. He didn't say anything as he pushed the plate forward, and Zoro said nothing as they ate.

"Well?" asked Sanji, as Zoro did the dishes and Sanji took the seat on the bar-stool. For Zoro, it was a combination of helping Sanji out, and learning where the fuck everything was in his kitchen.

"He wanted to let me know he wasn't coming to my graduation," said Zoro with a shrug, "And that he'd paid off my credit card bills. His usual once a month phone call."

"Bastard," said Sanji sympathetically, and Zoro nodded in agreement. It was again, a testament to how often Sanji was here that he casually pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. Zoro already placed the chipped cup Sanji had deemed unsafe from drinking from in front of the guy to tip the ashes into.

"He's always been like that," elaborated Zoro, "Not really around. Hell, I can probably count the amount of times I've seen him on my hand. If he's lucky maybe both hands."

Sanji frowned at that. It wasn't fair to Zoro that he had to deal with that kind of neglect. Zoro, however, didn't seem to want to say anything more on the topic, and thus, they brushed it off in favor of exchanging jibes.

* * *

After Sanji left that night, Zoro felt the anger at his dad build up. Was it too much to fucking show his face? He spent the entire night training, before heading to school late. Practice at the club was shitty as per usual, and to top it all off, Koshiro pulled him aside again at the end of practice.

"Roronoa," said Koshiro with a nod, "Have you taken to heart what we discussed the other day?"

"Yes sensei," said Zoro respectfully.

Koshiro frowned, and then sighed as he said, "It's much better when you don't lie to me, Roronoa. I think you should take a break from the practices. Clearly you haven't taken my advice to heart. Perhaps some time to yourself will help you to reflect."

"_What_?!" demanded Zoro, his jaw dropped and the anger building again. How could Koshiro ban him from practice?! He _neede_d this! It was the only opportunity he got to fight others and improve, even if the only real challenge was Cabaji, and Zoro had already surpassed him ages ago.

"Roronoa," said Koshiro sternly, "Your grades have continued to slip. Not to mention you were late to school once again. You stayed up late training, did you not? It is not bad to be devoted, Roronoa. But there is always more to life beyond your swords. One day your arms will grow weak and limp, and you will not be able to move as agilely. Do not let that day be the end of who you are."

Zoro frowned, but nodded. He wasn't going to argue with Koshiro, after all. After taking a long shower, and avoiding the temptation to smack Cabaji across the head, he headed outside. It was late, and Sanji wasn't waiting for him. That was odd. Usually the cook was waiting with a bag of groceries to head back to Zoro's place.

Concerned, Zoro headed over to the Baratie.

When he arrived, the first person he ran into was Luffy, who was swiping dishes off the tables and munching on what appeared to be a leftover bagel. Immediately Zoro headed over and asked, "Where's the shit-cook?"

"Sanji? He's upstairs," said Luffy in surprise, as he stopped to stare at Zoro.

"Upstairs?" asked Zoro blankly.

"Yeah," said Luffy emphatically, "At his house."

"His house is upstairs?" asked Zoro again, feeling out of the loop.

"Yeah, I'll show you, c'mon!" said Luffy easily, leading Zoro out of the cafe, still carrying the dishes in the bin, and out into the back alleyway of the store. Out back was a door behind the shop that Zoro had never known existed. Luffy apparently did though, as he buzzed a ringer that appeared from nowhere.

"Who-zis?" came from the speaker, in Sanji's groggy voice.

"It's Zoro," said Luffy chirpily, "And Luffy."

"Oh. Hang on," said Sanji.

There was a buzz, like an apartment building, and then the door clicked open and the two headed inside. There was only a set of stairs, and another door probably connected to the restaurant. The two headed upstairs, and into the open door to find the shitty cook on the couch, red-faced and in his pyjamas. He was sick.

"Sanji! I brought Zoro! Are you sick?" asked Luffy, bouncing over to Sanji, as Zoro stared at the idiot.

"Yeah," said Sanji with a grimace, "It started raining last night."

"Moron," said Zoro easily, and Luffy frowned as he said, "Where were you?"

"At Zoro's," said Sanji easily, lying down and cuddling his pillow.

It was sort of erotic, seeing the cook sick. He had a naturally flushed appearance climbing his pale cheeks. He was sweating lightly too. His blonde hair was no longer fixed into place with hair-spray, but rather fell messily around his dumb head. Instead of his usual prim buttoned up shirts, he was in a fucking set of pyjamas. He was the only straight male that Zoro knew that owned a matching set of pyjamas, the button-up kind, with grey spatulas patterned over the red fabric. It was kind of stupid. And made Zoro's day just feel that much better.

"Why were you at Zoro's?" asked Luffy, incredulous.

"He was making me dinner," said Zoro with a grin, "Shitty cook can't stay out of the kitchen."

"No fair!" said Luffy aghast, "Sanji make me meat too! I want Sanji's cooking! Please? Pretty please? We're nakama, aren't we? Make me meat!"

"Fucking hell Luffy, don't you have a shift?" asked the cook, scowling.

"Make me meat!" demanded Luffy, and Sanji casually waved his hand as he replied, "Yeah yeah, I got it, make you meat. Now get."

Luffy grinned at the promise of meat, and left. The dishes were left behind. Zoro sighed as he glanced at the cook's make-shift couch-bed, and stared around. He had absolutely no clue how to take care of a sick person.

As though reading his thoughts, Sanji grimaced and said, "You can go. I can handle myself. And Zeff left some medicine for me. It looks worse than it is. Light fever and cough. I'll be back to normal in two days tops."

"Shut up. What the fuck are you wearing anyways, dart-brow?" asked Zoro with a scowl.

"It's called pyjamas," said Sanji, sniffing both from the cold and from arrogance, "Some of us don't sleep in the same thing we wear in public."

"I wouldn't be caught dead wearing that in public. Does Nami know you wear that?" asked Zoro with a wicked grin.

"Fuck you you shitty swordsman," came the reply, before drowning in a cough.

"Let's get you to bed," said Zoro with a sigh, lifting Sanji up lightly, and helping the other man into his bedroom.

Sanji groaned, but for the most part, complied. He was still cuddling the pillow. It was like he had suddenly devolved from a 17 year old into a child. Zoro wanted to laugh, but he doubted it would be appreciated. So instead, he unceremoniously dumped Sanji onto his bed.

Sanji's room was nothing like Zoro's home. It was neat, to the point of somewhat obsessive. The desk had a small stack of school books and a large stack of culinary books, which judging from the condition, were probably from the library. There were no posters, or calenders, or pictures at all, besides a small frame with Sanji and Zeff in it when Sanji must have been eleven or twelve, since he was Rika's size, and two were standing in front of a brand new Baratie. It had been turned to face away from Sanji's bed. Probably because of their recent fight.

"So," said Zoro pointedly, "What now?"

"Now I fucking sleep," said Sanji with a groan.

Sleep sounded good, thought Zoro, as he moved to examine Sanji's childhood photo. He was a pretty alright looking kid, if Zoro were to judge. He was kind of skinny though. A lot of skinny. Like he'd only recently discovered the merits of food. Zeff looked thinner too, no rotund belly and his face was somewhat gaunt. But for the most part, they were both pretty happy. Grinning like they had won the lottery as they stood in front of the cafe.

Zoro had never had a moment like that with anyone before. Maybe Kuina, back when he was young and stupid, but never mutual. There was no moment of shared happiness that he could think of. It felt so foreign.

As he placed the picture down, he heard Sanji's light snores. Zoro turned to find the cook curled into a fetal position, cuddling his pillow and blue eye snapped shut. Shaking his head, Zoro turned to leave. Except that's when the pamphlet caught his eye. Curious, he pulled out a large, but very cared for brochure from between Sanji's school books.

It was dog-eared and creased, to the point where little white lines broke the front page. Probably from overuse. There were small tears threatening the age, but for the most part it was well-maintained. Across the front was the picture of a large building, with the words,_ Grand Line Academy_ plastered on the front.

Zoro curiously flipped the page, and immediately, the brochure turned to the most visited section. The _Momoiro Academy for the Culinary Arts_. Zoro sucked in a breath, and sat down on the chair in near shock. Two weeks of listening to Sanji rant about wanting to stay at the Baratie with Zeff, the sneaking suspicion it wasn't true, all proved in one moment.

The school was fancy, for sure. Deadlines for applications were in March, and it was April already. It had been too late for Sanji to apply. Circled lovingly in pen was the words _Momoiro Award_. Zoro's eyes roved over the section.

_The __Momoiro __Award is awarded to the most promising young chef at the end of his __two years of __stud__y__ at the __Momoiro __Academy__ of Culinary Arts (MACA). To achieve the award, the young chef in training must show compassion for his work, a dedication to learning, and a desire to improve continuously. He or She must maintain a standard of academic integrity at Honours Level and be the top of his class. He or She must then present a unique and new dish to a panel of judges at the end of his school term to be evaluated. If his dish succeeds in impressing all the judges, then he will be granted the __Momoiro __Award, a million beri grant __to further his endeavors in the study of the culinary arts__._

So this was why the cook was hesitating. This was his dream. To win this award. Zoro tucked the package away, confused as he stared at Sanji. For the life of him he just couldn't figure out why the cook was hesitating so much if he wanted this so badly. The anger was building again.

* * *

**Another chapter done! The story intensifies, the plot builds, oh how I love drama. The next few chapters will be explosive, before the eventual resolution. Changed the summary and chapter title by the way. It was sort of a whim. Sorry if that confused anyone! New chapter on November 29th**

**Review Replies: **

HappyMe-O: Thank you! And Sanji's sort of awkward, so it'll take a little while. Kind of :P But yeah, I have a lot of stuff planned. The next chapter will introduce the sub-plot to the main plot of their relationship because apparently I have to write some action in somewhere.

: Thank you! And yeah, they're bickering is still pretty tame. But they are gearing towards a major fight, so they're bickering will be a bit more harsh later on. Sort of. I can't really explain too much of that without giving away the plot that's going to happen.

And they will, but not yet. Zoro hasn't gotten a chance to see Sanji fight yet, but once he does, he won't be able to resist ;)

And please, I love long reviews! It always helps me know whats good, what to work on. Etc. Thank you for reviewing!


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One Piece, Drama, Romance