The scorching sun beat down on two diverging paths across the sands of Alabasta. Turmoil brewed beneath the surface, pulling strings and drawing forces into its vortex.
The Brute Squad: Westward to Rainbase
Luffy surged ahead, a rubbery blur against the dunes, kicking up golden sand. "SHISHISHI! RAINBASE, HERE WE COME! CROCODILE BETTER HAVE LUNCH READY!" His laughter echoed, a stark contrast to the arid silence.
Zoro kept pace beside him, one hand resting on Wado Ichimonji's hilt, his lone eye scanning the shimmering horizon. "Try not to run straight into a sand pit, Baka Captain. Crocodile won't be serving anything but sand-fists."
"Silence, Marimo!" Sanji snapped, his voice tight as a coiled spring. He walked slightly behind the group, cigarette smoke trailing him like a visible banner of his barely contained fury.
The raw sting of Nami and Vivi turning against him – supporting Takuya, defending him, touching him – still burned. Worse was the crushing humiliation of being forced to apologize to that smirking strategist.
It made his blood simmer into a white-hot fury, a dangerous pressure cooker of rage with no release valve. Because how else could it be? How else could his precious Nami-swan and Vivi-chwan turn against him, defend that schemer, even... touch him? Look after him? Takuya must have done something. Drugged their tea? Drugged their food? Slipped them something? Hypnotized them?
There was no other logical explanation in Sanji's tormented mind for such an unnatural, blatant betrayal. And now, the very object of his justified wrath was shielded, untouchable, protected by the queens he adored – the cruelest twist of all.
Every step towards Rainbase felt heavy with this pent-up, seething inferno, a cold, sharp anger honed to a razor's edge, desperately seeking an outlet, a target worthy of its destruction: Crocodile.
Then, abruptly, the tension in his shoulders eased. The scowl melted, replaced by a familiar, dreamy expression. He took a long, deliberate drag from his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke like a sigh.
"Just focus on swinging those dull blades when the time comes, Mosshead," he said, his voice suddenly lighter, almost airy. A hopeful, slightly goofy smile touched his lips.
Sanji murmured, "Maybe *Nami-swaaaaaan~* and *Vivi-chwaaaaaan~* will finally forgive me?" his voice thick with honeyed reverence.
As the names left his lips, the oppressive desert sun, Zoro's perpetual scowl, and the menacing shadow of Crocodile dissolved entirely from his perception. His mind conjured a scene of impossible, blissful serenity.
He imagined himself lying back on a soft, fancy couch. Strangely, it was sitting right on top of a shiny sand dune, covered by a silk shade. Rose petals floated slowly down, even though there was no sweet-smelling breeze to carry them.
Beside him, Nami knelt gracefully, her regular attire completely vanished. In its place, she wore only the unmistakable golden metal bikini inspired from the same bikini Princess Leia had worn in the beginning of Star Wars Episode 6 Return Of Jedi – a small, gleaming top barely covering her breasts and an equally minimal bottom connected by a slender chain.
Her exposed midriff, shoulders, and legs were smooth and flawless under the imagined desert sun. Despite the extreme skimpiness of the metallic attire – a stark contrast to her usual clothes – Sanji's fevered mind somehow interpreted it as possessing a paradoxical, alluring modesty, heightening her beauty rather than diminishing it. The precious metal shimmered against her skin, captivating his gaze.
A beatific smile graced her lips, utterly devoid of her usual exasperation or calculating greed. "Oh, *Sanji-sama~," she cooed, her voice like delicate wind chimes. With exquisitely delicate fingers, she plucked a plump, jewel-like grape from a golden bowl hovering miraculously nearby.
"You must have been exhausted after your *magnificent victory over that horrid Crocodile! Here, allow me..." She gently brought the succulent grape to his lips, her eyes shining with pure, unadulterated adoration.
Resplendent in royal blue ultra fine silk dress, Vivi sat at his feet upon a cushion formed of soft clouds of sand within his mind. She wielded an enormous peacock-feather fan with elegant, practiced strokes.
"Truly, *Sanji-kun~, your strength and devotion are unparalleled!" she breathed, her fanning creating a refreshing, cool zephyr meant solely for him. "To think you saved Arabasta *and showed us the error of our ways regarding that... that drug dealer..."
She shuddered delicately at the mere thought. "We were so foolish, blinded by his... tactics." Reaching up, she lightly patted his knee, her smile radiant with profound gratitude and a hint of something deeper. "But you... you are the true protector. Our knight. Will you marry me and be the king of Alabasta?"
Bathed in their undivided, adoring attention, Sanji was the picture of heroic serenity – until Vivi's proposal shattered his composure. His eyes bulged, face flushing crimson as he choked on the proffered grape.
"M-MARRY?! K-KING OF ALABASTA?!" he sputtered, momentarily forgetting regal poise. Then, gathering himself with visible effort, he straightened with theatrical grandeur, tears of joy streaming down his cheeks.
"V-Vivi-chwaaaaaan~! This humble chef would be HONORED beyond measure!"
He turned dramatically toward Nami, seizing both her hands. "But my dearest Nami-swaaaaaan~! Fear not! My heart expands like the Grand Line itself! There shall be a royal suite for you in the palace! We'll share sunsets on golden balconies! Dessert buffets at midnight!"
A contented sigh finally escaped him as he accepted another grape. "Protecting your smiles is reward enough... though ruling a kingdom together does sound delightfully... appreciative." He winked suggestively at both women.
"Imagine the wedding cake! A triple-tiered masterpiece! Chocolate-drenched berries for my queen..." he nodded to Vivi, "...and tangerine cream puffs for my princess!" he added, blowing a kiss toward Nami.
Both women responded with melodious giggles, blushing like shy maidens. In this perfect fantasy, Takuya was a distant, vanquished non-entity. Sanji reigned supreme as the undisputed hero-king, the sole object of their affection and fawning devotion.
They recognized his undeniable superiority, his noble sacrifice, and his unwavering love. They truly saw him – not just as their knight, but as their royal consort.
Finally, a blissful chuckle escaped Sanji's lips in the harsh reality of the desert march – "Hihihi!" – a jarring sound against the grim backdrop.
A vacant, utterly contented smile was plastered across his grimy, sand-crusted face, completely at odds with his blood-streaked appearance. His eyes were glazed over, lost somewhere among silken canopies and peacock feathers.
Zoro, who had been enduring the simpering murmurs and the sudden, disturbing giggle, finally snapped his head around. He took one revolted look at Sanji's dreamy expression, the telltale drool forming at the corner of his mouth, and the alarming resurgence of his nosebleed – now a steady, bright crimson stream – and grimaced in utter disgust.
"OI! DUMBASS!" Zoro roared, his voice shattering the desert quiet and the last silken threads of Sanji's fantasy. "Snap out of it! You're bleeding like a stuck pig down your damn chin and grinning like an idiot who found a treasure map in a pile of garbage!
And wipe your mouth!" He thrust a calloused finger inches from Sanji's blood-smeared face, his single eye narrowed in pure, unadulterated disgust. "You look even *more pathetic than usual!" He spat the words like bad rations.
Zoro leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, cutting growl thick with contempt. "Hell, no wonder those two decided to run off with that drug dealer instead of sticking around you."
He let the implication hang in the scorching air for a beat, watching Sanji's dreamy expression start to fracture. "Seeing you like this?" Zoro gestured broadly at Sanji's bloody face, vacant smile, and the lingering aura of delusion.
"Slobbering over imagination, bleeding like a faucet over nothing? Fawning over every girl you see! It's enough to make anyone sick." He straightened up, crossing his arms, his expression one of grim certainty.
"Probably those girls got so disgusted by your damn antics they figured even a drug dealer like Takuya seemed a safer bet. Explains why they trusted him more than you in the end. What you are doing seems to be the exact same things you accused Takuya off.
You should pity yourself for the cheap excuse of a man you have reduced yourself to." Zoro delivered the final blow with cold, brutal logic, his gaze unwavering. "Pathetic."
Sanji didn't just jerk; he convulsed. The dreamy haze evaporated like water on hot sand, replaced by a shockwave of pure, incandescent rage.
Zoro's words – drug dealer, disgusted, trusted him more, the brutal comparison to Takuya, the final, searing accusation of hypocrisy – slammed into him like physical blows.
His blissful smile contorted into a rictus of fury, eyes snapping wide open, pupils dilated with shock and wrath. The steady stream of his nosebleed abruptly stopped, as if his body itself was too enraged to bleed.
For a single, terrifying heartbeat, Sanji stood frozen. His entire frame trembled – not with weakness, but with the violent energy of a coiled spring about to snap. His knuckles turned bone-white as his fists clenched at his sides.
The furious blush that had crept up his neck earlier now engulfed his entire face, turning it a dangerous, mottled purple-red. A thick vein throbbed alarmingly on his temple.
"YOU..." Sanji's voice was a low, guttural rasp, choked with fury. It wasn't a shout yet, but the promise of one, vibrating with barely contained violence. He slowly, deliberately raised a trembling hand and wiped the blood and drool from his mouth with the back of his sleeve, his eyes never leaving Zoro's. The gesture was terrifyingly controlled.
"YOU MOSS-FOR-BRAINS SON OF A BITCH!" The roar erupted, shattering the desert silence far more effectively than Zoro's initial shout.
Spittle flew from Sanji's lips. "DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK THEIR NAMES! DON'T YOU DARE LUMP ME IN WITH THAT BACKSTABBING, WOMAN-THREATENING, DRUG-PEDDLING SCUM LIKE TAKUYA!"
He took a shuddering step forward, his body radiating heat. "MY FEELINGS ARE PURE! UNLIKE THAT SNEAKING RAT!" His voice cracked with a mix of outrage and something perilously close to wounded pride. "I WOULD DIE BEFORE HURTING NAMI-SWAN OR VIVI-CHWAN! I PROTECT THEM! I RESPECT THEM! UNLIKE HIM! UNLIKE YOU SPOUTING YOUR FILTHY LIES!"
The hypocrisy accusation struck deepest. Sanji's eye twitched violently. "ACCUSE ME OF BEING LIKE HIM?!" He let out a short, hysterical bark of laughter that held no humor, only rage.
"LOOK AT YOURSELF, YOU UNGRATEFUL, DIRTY SWORDSMAN! I FEED YOUR USELESS CARCASS! I KEEP YOUR PATHETIC CREW ALIVE! AND THIS IS THE THANKS I GET?! SLANDER FROM A DIRECTIONALLY CHALLENGED MARIMO?!"
He finally lit a cigarette with a hand shaking so badly the match nearly missed, taking a desperate, ragged drag. The smoke plumed from his nostrils like an enraged bull. "'CHEAP EXCUSE OF A MAN'?! I'LL SHOW YOU CHEAP, YOU WASTE OF A WAISTBAND!"
He dropped into a fighting stance, his good leg trembling with the need to strike. "I'LL KICK YOUR TEETH SO FAR DOWN YOUR THROAT YOU'LL BE BRUSHING YOUR STOMACH! COME ON, YOU OVERGROWN CACTUS! LET'S SETTLE THIS RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"
Sanji launched himself forward, a whirlwind of righteous fury and wounded ego, a spinning heel kick aimed with lethal precision at Zoro's smirking face. The shattered dream was forgotten, buried under an avalanche of volcanic anger and the desperate need to physically obliterate the source of his humiliation. The only thought left was violence.
Zoro didn't even flinch. As Sanji's leg became a blur of rage aimed at his jaw, Zoro's right arm moved with deceptive speed. He didn't draw a sword; he simply brought Wado Ichimonji up in its sheath, holding it horizontally like an iron bar.
Sanji's shin slammed into the hard scabbard with a resounding CRACK that echoed across the dunes, sending a visible shockwave through the air(anime logic). Sand sprayed outwards from the impact point.
"Tch," Zoro grunted, his smirk widening into a fierce, challenging grin as he effortlessly absorbed the blow, his stance barely shifting. "Predictable as always, Shit-Cook. Still kicking with your heart instead of your head."
"SHUT UP!" Sanji roared, recoiling only for an instant before launching into a furious barrage. His legs became pistons, lashing out with high kicks, low sweeps, and spinning heel strikes – a whirlwind of precise, powerful blows fueled by pure fury. Thwack! Thud! CRACK!
Zoro met him head-on. He moved Wado fluidly, parrying kicks with the sheathed blade, using his free hand to block or deflect others. He wasn't retreating; he was weathering the storm, each block precise and economical. Sand flew around them, creating a chaotic cloud.
"You call that protecting them?" Zoro taunted, effortlessly deflecting a kick aimed at his ribs. "All I see is a lovesick moron bleeding all over the desert over a daydream!" He suddenly shifted, drawing Sandai Kitetsu with his left hand in a flash of steel.
The unsheathed blade swept upwards, forcing Sanji to leap back to avoid being cut. "They saw right through your pathetic act! No wonder they preferred the honesty of a criminal to your slobbering fantasy!"
"THEY ARE PURE ANGELS! YOU WOULDN'T KNOW RESPECT IF IT KICKED YOUR RUSTY SWORDS DOWN YOUR THROAT!"
Sanji shrieked, landing and instantly launching himself into the air for a powerful axe kick. Zoro crossed both Wado (still sheathed) and Sandai above his head, catching the blow with another jarring CLANG of metal on bone.
"Pure angels stuck with a delusional pervert for a bodyguard!" Zoro shot back, shoving Sanji's leg away and lunging forward with a swift, sheathed thrust of Wado towards Sanji's midsection.
Sanji twisted in mid-air, dodging and lashing out with a counter-kick that Zoro sidestepped, the blade of Sandai whistling past Sanji's ear.
That's when Luffy saw something.
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