𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞

───── THE PIRATE'S DARK WORDS lingered in the air for a long, tense moment. Eniya shared a look with Luffy, searching for surprise or pause, but she found none. Instead, his smile remained firmly in place as his eyes glimmered with glee, with the promise of a well-earned reward after a hard-fought battle. His faith continued to remain unshaken, even when faced with a man who had been dragged through hell and back—all in the name of the same legend that he sought.

His persistence was nothing if not commendable.

She looked away, focusing instead on the pirate, who was once again staring deeply into his bowl, unblinking and unseeing.

"You said you came from the Grand Line." Eniya's voice drew him out of whatever memory he had been dragged back into. His dark eyes darted to hers. Slowly, he nodded, and she continued. "That's an awful lot of ocean you had to cover. Keep eating. I'll get you another glass of water."

His chin trembled as she turned away to grab the pitcher of ice water on the counter. For one horrible moment, Eniya was worried that he would begin crying, but to her relief, he took a deep breath and composed himself.

"Thank you." His eyes drifted to Sanji, and then the door that the line cook from earlier had stormed out of, threats of telling Zeff on his tongue. "All of you. If you hadn't taken pity on me..."

The pirate trailed off, instead shakily lifting another forkful of rice to his cracked lips. It wasn't hard to tell what could have—would have—happened. Eniya had felt his bones dig sharply into her calloused palms when she helped him stand.

Another day at sea, another few hours, and he was as good as dead.

There was a surprisingly hard edge to Sanji's voice as he said, "Nobody goes hungry on my watch."

"Not even a pirate," the man noted. Eniya poured out the last of the ice water in the pitcher. His shoulders slumped, and he sounded resigned as he raised his newly filled glass. "Even when your friend had the good sense to leave me for dead."

Sanji shook his head, his nose crinkling. "Yeah, well, he can bite me. I'm not going to stand by and blink at a dying man when he stumbles into my kitchen. Eat. When you're done, we'll find you a real bed to rest in," he promised.

Eniya rounded the counter to stand by his side. "Do you need help?" She asked quietly so as not to disturb the eating pirate or Luffy, who had taken to questioning him further.

Sanji faltered, a dry rag in his hand and a wet pot in the other. The dishes were practically polished; all that was left was to dry them and hang them back on their respective racks. "What? No. You can go rest. You've been on your feet for hours."

Eniya's eyes wandered over to the new cart of sticky glasses that a busboy had wheeled in. "I can't. Luffy and I have more dishes to wash."

The kitchen had closed for the night, which meant that they didn't have to worry about keeping up with the dinner rush, but now there were mugs of ale and fancy glasses of liquor piling up high. Eniya was stubborn—even if Luffy lost steam, she wouldn't. Either they would finish the dishes tonight or, the moment that the restaurant cleared out and the staff was no longer breathing down their necks, she would force Luffy to sneak out.