Mixed Up (ZoSan)

Anyone Can Play Guitar

When Monday came around, Sanji found himself at a loss with what he was supposed to do. He'd half expected Zoro to either send him an e-mail asking him to hang out or for the oaf to drop by on his own while on his way to work to harass him, but when the day came and went without a single word or irritating action from the punk, he became confused, and then became confused as to why he felt confused.

They weren't friends, and only became acquaintances through awkward and forced interaction. Still, being brushed off so completely left him feeling abandoned, and he wasn't sure why he felt he should feel that way exactly. Just the other day he'd been wishing for contact with Zoro to come to an end, and yet today he found himself wondering why his wish had come true.

He kept an ear out to listen for when Zoro came and went, but even though he heard him loudly coming and going, Sanji didn't make a move to engage him in the stairwell. He wasn't sure what he even wanted to say to him, and wasn't sure when Chopper was or wasn't with him and certainly didn't want to cause a scene involving the monstrous dog.

Confused, (and still confused about that), he spent the day cooking and smoking and watching tv alone. If Usopp's art show was Wednesday, and Zoro had promised to take him along, then surely the punk would at least try to contact him by Tuesday to work out the details. The man was an idiot, but surely he wasn't stupid enough to think that Sanji was some kind of a mind-reader who could anticipate what was expected of him. Hell, Sanji didn't even know where the gallery was, and he sure as shit wasn't going to be pleased with him if Zoro came down to get him with only a four minute warning before they were wanted at the show.

With this logic in mind, he relented himself to sleep and waited to see what Tuesday brought him, though it became increasingly clear to him as he made himself breakfast that morning that Zoro wasn't going to initiate anything with him if he didn't have to, and maybe, just maybe, he really was that dull. Scowling down fiercely into his plate of pancakes, Sanji wished he'd gotten Nami's number when he'd had the chance. If Zoro wasn't going to follow up on his promise by giving him details about what they were meant to do tomorrow, Sanji bet Nami at least would give him the specifics.

As he ate, he noted that his mood was interfering with what should have been a very sweet breakfast, but was instead leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He rolled his eyes, admiring how much Zoro was able to piss him off without even having to be around to do it. As he spread some syrup over his pancakes, he put his troubles with Zoro aside and tried to enjoy his own cooking before the punk could completely ruin his morning.

After he'd finished eating and cleaned his station, he continued the rest of his morning routine to bathe and shave and dress himself for the day, though as he stood before the bathroom mirror- adjusting his tie and appreciating his form- he gradually came to realize he had nowhere to go.

He was still becoming used to the idea that he no longer had to go to work, and became annoyed that there was nowhere he was needed so the could show himself off. Feeling that this was all somehow Zoro's fault (even though it was rightly all Zeff's), Sanji grabbed his coat and cigarettes and stepped outside for a smoke.

The rain that had afflicted the area over the last couple days had finally passed by, but the weather was still dreadfully chilled. The clouds remained cluttered and grey in the sky, and held in the unpleasantness the rain had brought with it. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, he looked around for one of his usual smoking partners but found himself alone with the threatening atmosphere. He pulled out his pack regardless and withdrew a cigarette that he then struggled to to get lit in the wind, and while he stood there, he wondered if he was going to spend his day as productively as he'd spent the last.

Finally having won the battle to light his cigarette, he bared his teeth at the wind and tried to enjoy his smoke as best he could given the circumstances. Alone, time that usually passed by quickly for him when shared with other smokers seemed to drag now. He quickly became bored, but had no desire to stub his cigarette out early now that he'd gone through all the hassle of trying to light it.