Mistake

Whispers of Pain

"Boss, the surgery is done, but it doesn't look like the effect is showing. Maybe because... well, he's a male." The words were flat, clinical, but Sanji couldn't focus on them properly, his mind struggling to comprehend.

Sanji lay helpless on the cold, sterile bed, his body aching in ways he couldn't fully understand. 

His vision was blurred, but he could make out vague shapes moving around him.

He tried to move, to speak, but his muscles wouldn't obey.

His arms and legs were strapped tightly to the bed, rendering him completely immobile.

Panic started to bubble inside him as his dry throat refused to produce any sound, and a sharp, searing pain radiated from his lower body, particularly around his stomach.

He had no idea what had happened to him, but his instincts screamed that something was terribly wrong.

Through the fog in his mind, Sanji tried to piece together what they were talking about.

Surgery? What effect? His heart pounded in his chest, and despite the pain, he forced his mind to stay alert.

He could hear movement, and then another voice—a voice that made his blood run cold.

"He's always a failure. What can I expect?" The voice was chilling, filled with contempt, and unmistakable.

Sanji's stomach churned as recognition hit him like a punch to the gut.

That voice... no. It can't be...

His worst fears were confirmed as the man continued.

"What about the others?" Sanji's heart sank further, his breath coming out in shallow gasps.

The first person, whose face Sanji still couldn't see through the blur, replied, "They're all still unconscious.

But since they weren't strong enough, there's very little chance this experiment will succeed."

A sharp, mirthless laugh escaped the second man, followed by venomous words.

"Useless. All of them. Leave them for now.

I'll figure out what to do with these worthless bastards later." The cold, callous voice echoed in Sanji's head, and he felt a wave of nausea at the pit of his stomach.

The sound of footsteps receded as the man with the yellow hair left the room.

Sanji knew exactly who that man was—how could he ever forget the voice that haunted his nightmares, the voice of the man who had never seen him as anything but a failure? Judge... His father.

But what surgery were they talking about? And why did his body feel like it had been torn apart?

Sanji struggled again, trying desperately to move, to escape, but his body was still too weak, his throat too raw to scream for help.

Tears welled in his eyes as fear and confusion overwhelmed him.

The pain in his stomach pulsed, and though he couldn't understand what was done to him, he knew something was horribly wrong.

  ______

Sanji awoke in a cold sweat, his breath shallow as he scanned the room around him.

He was back in his bedroom on Whole Cake Island.

The soft, extravagant decor of the room felt suffocating, and confusion clouded his mind.

Was it just a dream? He questioned himself, but his heart raced, a deep feeling of unease settling in his chest.

That dream had felt too real, too vivid to be just a figment of his imagination.