Mixed Up (ZoSan)

Spirit of the Radio

The biggest point of discussion that occurred after Nami arrived was not, surprisingly, about whether or not Zoro would take care of his injury properly on his own, but instead revolved around whether or not he would be okay enough to play at the student recital the next day.

Nami seemed convinced that he shouldn't, afraid of worsening his eye by over-exerting the muscles in his face somehow during the performance. Zoro insisted he'd be fine, and when the two asked Sanji his opinion on the matter, he knew better than to take one side over the other. He remained impartial to their disagreement as they ate, taking both of their points into careful consideration.

"It's not like I fucked up one of my hands," Zoro had said as he tipped his bowl against his lips to slurp the broth up noisily. "I'll just pop a few painkillers beforehand and be fine. We already promised Tony; it'd break the kid's heart to back out now."

"Well what about the Tralalaw show on Sunday?" she'd asked then, guiding her spoon through the soup with an air of distraction about her. "There's no way you're still thinking of going to that."

Their disagreement had exploded from there and they'd argued over that for a long while. It started civilized, but had eventually degraded to the point where they'd begun to shout and call each other names. Sanji wanted to intervene, but felt it was something that needed to be resolved between them. Zoro's main point of arguing stemmed from the supposed pact they'd made that revolved around him going to the show 'come hell or high water', but Nami didn't seem to want to hear it.

"This is different," she'd stressed around a mouthful of sandwich. "You know how rough their shows can get; you're already hurt badly enough as it is, why risk making it worse?"

"Because I already bought a ticket, mom. Whether you 'allow' me to go or not, I'm going to be there even if I have to drive myself and overdose on Oxycodone to do it," Zoro snarled, daring her to challenge him further on the matter. "It's the biggest show of the year and I'm not gonna miss it because some asshole cut up my fucking face."

A line had been crossed; even Sanji had realized that. Instead of retaliating, Nami had only stared at him, full of an icy rage that threatened to burst before she abruptly pushed the rest of her unfinished food away from her. Clearly pissed, she'd bitterly thanked Sanji for the meal and left curtly without another word to gather the things she'd left in Zoro's apartment.

"That was too far," Sanji said, though he was beginning to come to terms with the fact that he didn't have to take Nami's side on everything.

Zoro had only shrugged, saying, "Had to let her know I was serious."

He hadn't stuck around much longer after that, having felt recovered enough to climb the three flights of stairs he couldn't earlier. To his credit, though, he did offer to help Sanji with the clean up before following Nami upstairs, where their argument surely must have continued. Sanji didn't hear Nami return down the stairs for quite some time after.

With everything said and done, he then spent the rest of his day alone.

When he'd finally finished washing all the dishes they'd used, he made a list of things he needed to restock on the next time he went grocery shopping, texted Nami to ask what time the Solstice recital started, and then killed time the only way he knew how: by studying up on various recipes and other cooking techniques he had not yet mastered.

By the day's end, he'd completely forgotten to listen to the song Zoro had recommended him.

Then it was Saturday, and the thought that it was Saturday never occurred to him. The Solstice recital started in the early afternoon, allowing Sanji plenty of time to sleep in, shower, and groom himself before he drove into the downtown area. Knowing that the recital was a casual event meant he could dress down a bit, saving him time on figuring out what to wear. He settled for a nice button down and some high-waisted jeans that he could tuck the shirt into, knowing full well how many looks he was going to attract. He loved this particular look because it highlighted just how long his legs were, and today he felt like showing off. Today, he felt good.