Future Wings (A ZoSan One Piece Fanfiction)

Chapter Three: Dreams Part One: The Cook, The Doctor, and The Sniper

누군가에겐 느낄 수 없는

누군가에겐 폭풍 같은 것

우린 만들 수 있어 something new

커져라, let the wind blow

Translation:

For someone, something that can't feel

For someone, something feels like a storm

We can make it, something new

Grow bigger, let the wind blow

Yunho and San, "Dancing With Butterfly Wings"

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The boy was a quick learner.

Last night, S-Hunter had roused from his sleep, so Sanji had helped him to the washroom (which Franky finished fixing), where he taught him how to brush his teeth and had given him a quick bath.

The two had bunked together for that night, as S-Hunter had no bed of his own. Beforehand, the girls had offered their quarters for the child, but he had refused, clinging onto the cook, so Sanji had politely declined.

Sanji could feel a pair of eyes watching him in the night. No, they weren't Robin's.

As usual, he woke up promptly at 5 a.m., preparing to make breakfast for the crew. He yawned, carefully stretching, not wanting to wake the rest of the guys, or the child curled on top of his chest. The movement was minimal, but it was enough to cause the boy to stir. S-Hunter blinked confusingly, almost catlike, and Sanji instinctively patted his head.

"You don't need to wake up too, little onigiri," he said softly. "You can sleep in if you want."

"No," S-Hunter had replied, shaking his head. "I want to help, too."

Seeing that he wouldn't take no for an answer, they got ready.

Sanji helped him put on the wash headband around his ears, a fluffy sunny yellow, adorned with a cute duck in the centre, adjusting it to ensure the boy's bangs were away from his face.

The cook himself got his own, a bright green one, this one with a familiar amphibian face.

"A frog," said S-Hunter.

The older man smiled. "Yep, it's a frog. Cute, isn't it?"

The boy nodded ecstatically, and Sanji chuckled.

They brushed their teeth (this time S-Hunter spat out the mouthwash), and Sanji administered several drops of cleanser to the seraphim's palms.

"Remember, just like I taught you," he said.

"Why can't I just rub my hands with the soap bar like Father?" S-Hunter asked as he mimicked Sanji, who applied the substance evenly around his face.

"The swordsman is a Neanderthal, and I'm going to teach you to be better than that."

Both of them rinsed their faces with cold water, and Sanji grabbed a pair of face towels, handing one to the child.

"...Father does stink."

"Exactly."

"I shall have better hygiene than Father."

Sanji couldn't control the laugh that came out. He hung the towels, leading them out of the bathroom.

"That's the spirit," he said.

They made their way to the kitchen. Before anything else, Sanji got a stool from the pantry, so that S-Hunter would be able to stand up to the counter. The older man got himself an apron and another for S-Hunter. The pale pink covering was huge on the boy, the bottom length reaching his ankles.