ZoSan: The Flower

Chapter 38 - Sanji

Sanji paced the deck of the Thousand Sunny like a caged animal as the one hour mark approached. The last of last night's stragglers had returned to the Polar Tang, and all the mess from breakfast had been cleaned up. He was itching for a smoke again, but trying to delay it. Law had said to stay by Luffy around the two hour mark, presumably planning to switch places with the blond and more easily update the younger captain. Sanji hadn't let Luffy out of his sight.

It was like he literally couldn't think of anything else. He'd tried planning meals and making lists for what they may need to re-purchase after last night's banquet, but his mind wouldn't focus. He'd tried fishing with Usopp, but he was so fidgety that the sniper had told him he was scaring the fish off and to go do something else. He tried fawning over the ladies, bringing them snacks and drinks, but after the third time they, too, asked him to stop. His kitchen was already spotless, the locker in which he kept his belongings was tidy and organized. He was about ready to start mopping the deck of the Sunny, just for something to do, except everyone was out on it due to the nice weather.

Shower. He could take a shower. Not that he needed one, not really. It wasn't hot enough so that he was sweating, and Sanji was already prone to good hygiene. But he still had an hour to kill and a nice shower might calm him and use up twenty minutes of that. As he left to go do that, he didn't realize that his desperation to know how Zoro was doing had made him lose a little control over his observational haki.

At least, not until he heard Nami say to Robin, "How much longer do you think it'll take him to admit that he's as in love with Zoro as Zoro is with him?"

When he realized that they were across the deck and whispering, he realized his mistake and pulled the haki back into himself. But that question circled in his thoughts as he relished the warmth of the shower. Am I in love with Zoro? Sanji, for all his flirtatious manners, wasn't even sure he understood what 'love' really was. He'd thought he had, once, but now he really wasn't sure. Attraction, he understood, and certainly felt that for Zoro. Affection and admiration, too.

So what was the difference between those and love? What was it that had driven the usually reckless Zoro to suffer silently for months and leave the crew he loved instead of taking a chance to talk to Sanji? To come back so willing to devote everything to this thing between them?

And then there were those words: "I'm glad you're here. I'm glad I met you." Zoro couldn't have the slightest clue what those words meant to him, how long Sanji had wanted to hear someone, anyone, say that to him. But could he trust those words?

The shower offered no answers, no clarity. Nor did it offer much relief from the concern.

He shouldn't be concerned for the swordsman, Sanji tried to rationalize as he finally let himself light a cigarette near the railing of the forward bow. Zoro was the strongest person Sanji knew. Ok, well, maybe second strongest because Luffy was certainly a force to be reckoned with, but Zoro was up there. And he was, as he himself had pointed out, under the care of two great doctors whom Sanji both knew and trusted. They wouldn't let him die. They would get the flower out (and hopefully burn it to fucking ashes), and Zoro would live.

And what then? Did Sanji want to let him go? Reject him, as Zoro had been so afraid he would? He couldn't imagine doing that. But could Sanji love him the way the emerset deserved to be loved? Wholeheartedly and unashamedly? Could Zoro handle his full past, the parts of himself he'd tried to leave behind? Would Sanji be able to tell him?

Sanji couldn't decide if he should lean in or to pull away. Continue exploring the feelings that were growing in his chest, or put them away and hope it was for the best. He knew which he wanted to do. He wanted to keep having those hands grab his own or his waist. Wanted to know what they felt like in other places. Wanted to touch that green hair more, especially if it made Zoro gasp again, to eke every reaction that no one else had ever seen out of the man. Sanji wanted to stay up late next to him, just talking. Hear every story the mosshead knew. Fall asleep next to him. Make him laugh, let him have a place he could cry, should he ever need it. He wanted everything Zoro was willing to give him.

But they distracted each other when they were like this, Sanji remembered, touching the vaguely sore and itchy patch of skin where he'd burned himself yesterday. Zoro had gotten hurt, almost poisoned, because he'd been distracted by Sanji. If they continued the relationship, would that get worse, or better? Could they survive the New World, the trip to Raftel and battles of all sorts with each other as their weakness? But if he broke the swordsman's heart, would that distraction get worse? Zoro had promised that he could handle rejection without fallout, but Sanji knew how much rejection could hurt. And if Sanji was really the first person Zoro loved, the swordsman might be overestimating his ability in this particular area.

The only good that Sanji's seemingly endless musing had done was pass the time, apparently. Because Sanji still had no answers when a blue bubble appeared around him and he suddenly left the Sunny and ended up in a room in the belly of the neighboring sub, still without answers to his questions.

But answers would have to wait. Zoro's eyelids were starting to flutter, but that gray eye didn't open yet. Sanji let his gaze wander over the prone man. Fresh white bandages covered his chest starting at about armpit level and stopping just above the navel. A barely-healed scar peeked out from the bandages on his left side, closest to where Sanji stood. As if in a daze, Sanji found his finger touching that scar, where the marine had slashed Zoro with a poisoned knife just a few days ago. Then his finger moved from the scar and Sanji's hand slipped into the swordsman's calloused one, squeezing softly.

"Don't worry," came a young voice from behind him. "The surgery went really well, and we got it all, every root this time. He'll wake up and be himself soon, and this can be behind us. Torao was even able to help with some of his old scar tissue under there, so Zoro might even be better than before once everything heals up."

"Chopper, you're smarter than me. What do you think love is?" Sanji asked quietly, not taking his eyes off of Zoro's face.

"It's different for everyone, Sanji. You'll have to find your own answer to that," Chopper said, just as softly. When Sanji's shoulders slumped just a little, he added. "But, I do want to show you something, even if I shouldn't. This crosses the lines of doctor-patient confidentiality, but ...I feel like you need to see it."

The doctor flipped through a folder and pulled out a printed scanner image. "This is the day before he left."

Sanji's eyes darted to it, not expecting to understand what he was seeing, since he had no doctoral training. But it was clear enough even without it, and it made his heart stop. Six large flowers, each four inches wide or more, sat... in? On top of?...too close to Zoro's lungs and heart. Thick, tough-looking tendrils curled into the spaces between his ribs, between other organs. A beautiful, deadly bouquet. Zoro's love for Sanji had fed the spores enough for them to grow this much, and the swordsman's own strength had kept him alive during it, and for four days after until Sanji found him. Until a single kiss had made it retreat.

"He must've been in agony..." Sanji didn't even realize he'd spoken the thought. There was almost no space in the picture that didn't have some piece of the killer plant.

Chopper put the image back in the folder and reached for something else. "This," he handed a small jar to Sanji, "is all that we needed to extricate from him today. All that was left of that entire mess, and we checked three times."

Lifting the small jar to eye level. Sanji examined its contents. A single small bud, the size of a large bean, and a thin, trailing tendril. It was bloody, but would've been pretty if it hadn't been tearing apart his friend. He examined it for a long minute, the comparison between the two doing something inside him.

But he'd have to self-examine later, because he felt a slow squeeze on his hand. He gave the jar back to Chopper, who quickly retreated to his corner again just as Zoro's gray eye opened.

"Hey," Sanji said, holding back a wave of emotions that wanted to escape through his tear ducts.

"Hey, beautiful," Zoro responded slowly, sleepily. "They get it all?"

Sanji nodded, a blush on his face as he tried to convince himself that post-anesthesia Zoro didn't know what he was saying. Never mind that he'd called him beautiful before while completely coherent. "Chopper says you're clear. Law should be briefing Luffy now, so you'll be mobbed soon, I'm sure."

Zoro managed a weak nod. "Love you," he whispered as he fell back asleep.

Sanji very nearly said it back. Wanted to, for the first time. But not yet. He had to be sure, because Zoro deserved no less. So he settled for just squeezing the swordsman's hand and kissing his scarred brow.