Chapter 51: The Cook's Dream
Sunny's POV
[A/N:Johnny and Yosaku are not going with straw hats ok]
The Baratie was finally calm, a fragile peace settling over the floating restaurant like a thin layer of foam on a simmering pot. Mihawk's shadow had vanished into the horizon, leaving behind only the faint echoes of his devastating presence—the splintered deck planks, the scattered debris from Krieg's ruined fleet, and the lingering scent of saltwater mixed with gunpowder. Zoro lay recovering in a makeshift cot against the far wall, his chest wrapped in fresh bandages that I'd applied with Jirō's precise knocking techniques to stem the bleeding and dull the pain without knocking him out completely. He'd grumbled the whole time, calling it "witchcraft," but at least he was breathing steadily now, his sword propped nearby like silent guardians.
The restaurant was slowly returning to its usual lively rhythm, with patrons trickling back in, their chatter a low hum punctuated by the clink of cutlery and the sizzle of pans from the kitchen. The air was thick with the comforting aromas of frying butter, garlic, and herbs, almost enough to mask the faint metallic trace of blood from the earlier chaos. It was a testament to Zeff's iron-fisted management that the place hadn't descended into total anarchy—waiters bustled about, mopping up spills and righting overturned tables, while the chefs barked orders in the back like nothing world-shaking had happened.
I leaned back in my chair at a corner table, letting the tension ease from my shoulders as I watched the crew unwind. Lucy was sprawled dramatically across the floor, arms and legs spread wide like she was claiming the entire restaurant as her personal kingdom. "Food tastes better when it's FREEEEE!" she bellowed, her voice echoing off the wooden beams and drawing stares from nearby diners. She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling with a blissful grin, as if the hardwood was the comfiest bed in the world.
"Oi! Get off the floor, you'll scare the customers," I muttered, though I couldn't help the corner of my lips twitching upward in amusement. Lucy had that effect—turning even the aftermath of a near-death brawl into a comedy show.
Zoro was slumped against a nearby pillar, arms crossed over his bandaged chest, looking every bit the brooding swordsman despite the pain he must have been in. His green hair was disheveled, and he shot occasional glares at anyone who dared look his way too long. Johnny and Yosaku, the bounty hunter duo who'd latched onto Zoro like enthusiastic barnacles, hovered nearby like overeager bodyguards. Johnny, with his wild hair and perpetual grin, was polishing Zoro's sword with exaggerated care, while Yosaku, bandana askew, fanned Zoro with a menu. "Big bro Zoro! You need anything? Water? Bandages? A motivational speech?" Johnny asked, his voice booming.
Zoro swatted at them weakly. "Get lost, you two. I'm not some invalid. And stop calling me 'big bro'—it's embarrassing."
Yosaku chuckled, undeterred. "Aw, come on! After that epic showdown with Hawk-Eyes, you're a legend! We gotta stick around for the sequel!"
Nami sat beside me at the table, sipping her drink with her usual elegance, her orange hair catching the light from the porthole windows. Her eyes flickered over the treasure maps she kept folded at her side, always scheming, always one step ahead. She glanced at Lucy's floor antics and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Sunny, how do we put up with this circus?"
Before I could reply, the kitchen doors burst open with theatrical flair. "MY ANGELS! MY GODDESSES! HERE IS YOUR MEAL!"
Sanji practically glided across the floor like a ballroom dancer on skates, balancing two trays piled so high with dishes that they wobbled dangerously, defying gravity through sheer willpower—or perhaps his undying devotion to the fairer sex. He set them down in front of Lucy and Nami with all the reverence of a priest placing offerings at a shrine, his curly eyebrow quirking up as he bowed deeply.
"For you, Miss Nami, a delicate orange soufflé, crafted to reflect the very sunlight that graces your radiant hair… paired with a light citrus salad and a drizzle of honey-lime reduction to match the sweetness of your smile," Sanji announced, his voice dripping with poetic fervor.
Nami blinked, her expression a mix of unimpressed and mildly flattered. "Uh… thanks? It looks… edible." She poked at the soufflé suspiciously, as if expecting it to explode into hearts.
"And for you, Miss Lucy—ah, forgive me, Pirate Queen Lucy-sama!—a mountain of meat, ten steaks high, seared to perfection with garlic butter, and an entire roast boar stuffed with herbs and apples. Please, accept my undying devotion!" Sanji's eyes sparkled with tears of joy as he presented the carnivorous tower.
Lucy's eyes glowed like twin gold coins, her mouth watering visibly. "MEAT! Finally, someone who understands me!" She attacked the feast like a starved wolf in a sheep pen, crumbs, grease, and bits of apple flying everywhere. In her frenzy, a chunk of steak sailed through the air and smacked Johnny square in the face.
"Whoa! Incoming!" Johnny yelped, catching the meat mid-fall and popping it into his mouth. "Thanks, little sis! This is prime stuff!"
Yosaku laughed, dodging a flying apple. "Haha! Lucy's got aim like a cannon! Watch out, or we'll end up as dessert!"
I sighed, rubbing my temples. "…This is going to bankrupt him. And us, if she keeps eating like that."
{ego}: "Unbelievable. This cook went from fighting for his life against Mihawk's aura to simping like a puppy in less than one chapter. Honestly, does he even have a brain, or is it just noodles up there? Oi, readers, are you facepalming too? Because I am. And now we've got these two clowns, Johnny and Yosaku, turning it into a full-blown vaudeville act."
[system]: "Fufufu~ don't worry, my Sunny. Let him chase skirts all he wants. In the end, only your angels—Nami, Aqua, and Nojiko—belong truly to you. Everyone else is just seasoning for your story~ ♥ And those bounty hunters? Harmless comic relief. Keep them around for laughs."
"Oi, Curly-Brow!" Lucy said mid-bite, her mouth stuffed so full that bits of meat threatened to escape. She swallowed dramatically, thumping her chest. "Join my crew! Be our cook! You can make meat mountains every day!"
Sanji froze mid-step, his cigarette nearly tumbling from his lips. "…Eh? Me? Join your crew?"
"You heard me," Lucy said, slamming her greasy hands on the table so hard the plates rattled and a fork flew off, nearly impaling Usopp—who'd just wandered in from the deck, looking for scraps. Usopp yelped and ducked, muttering about "death by cutlery." Lucy ignored him. "You're good at cooking, you respect food, and I'm a bottomless pit. Nami says we need another chef anyway—Zoro eats like a horse, and Sunny here just knocks things until they taste better. It's perfect!"
Sanji's face lit up like a lantern, hearts practically floating from his eyes. "A-alluring Pirate Queen…! To be asked by you personally—! And to serve the beautiful Miss Nami every day? I'd love nothing more than to dedicate my culinary arts to such divine beings!"
"—but?" I cut in, sensing the hesitation beneath his swooning.
Sanji's expression twisted with genuine conflict, his cigarette smoke curling like his inner turmoil. "…But I can't abandon the Baratie. This place is my home. Zeff is my family—the old geezer saved my life, taught me everything. I owe him everything. Leaving would be like spitting on that debt."
Lucy leaned across the table dramatically, pointing a greasy finger at him like a prosecutor in a courtroom drama. "You owe ME everything if you don't keep me fed! Do you want me to DIE of starvation?! I'll waste away to nothing—poof! Gone! And it'll be on your conscience, Curly!"
Nami buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. "…Lucy, that's not how negotiations work. You sound like a toddler throwing a tantrum."
Usopp, recovering from his near-forking, chimed in from the sidelines. "Yeah! And if she starves, I'll have to tell epic tales of the Great Pirate Queen's demise by hunger! 'The Ballad of the Empty Stomach'—it'll be a hit!"
Johnny and Yosaku, not ones to miss out on the fun, pumped their fists. Johnny: "Come on, Cook-bro! Join the legends! We'll hunt bounties while you hunt ingredients!" Yosaku: "Yeah! Imagine the feasts after a big score—roast pirate or something!"
Sanji shot them a withering look. "I'm not cooking pirates, you idiots."
Zoro snorted from his corner. "Heh. If you join, at least the food'll be better than Usopp's attempts. Remember that 'mystery stew' last week? Tasted like boot leather."
Usopp puffed up indignantly. "Hey! That was gourmet survival rations!"
I leaned back, studying Sanji carefully. His eyes, though glittering with cartoonish hearts every time they landed on Lucy or Nami, grew sharp and distant when he spoke about the Baratie. There was depth there—a man torn between roots and horizons.
"The sea is vast," Sanji said quietly, his voice dropping the flirtatious lilt as he stared out the window at the endless blue. "And one day, I'll find it—the All Blue. A legendary sea where fish from every ocean gather in harmony. North Blue's shimmering trout, East Blue's fatty tuna, South Blue's exotic spices swimming in schools, West Blue's rare delicacies—all in one place. The greatest ingredients in the world… waiting to be discovered, cooked, savored." His gaze softened, almost wistful, like a poet reciting lost verses. "That's my dream. To cook with the best, for the best people. To create dishes that make even kings weep with joy."
Lucy paused mid-bite, her jaw hanging open with a half-chewed steak dangling. "…All the fish in the world? In one sea?! That's… that's BUFFET HEAVEN!! Infinite meat! Infinite flavors! I could eat forever!" She slammed her fist on the table again, sending a plate spinning like a top.
Sanji nearly fainted from the shared enthusiasm, clutching his heart. "Exactly, my Queen! A paradise for any true chef—or glutton!"
Nami, ever the practical one, leaned closer, her eyes narrowing in calculation. "…All Blue… if that's real, the treasure hunters, marines, and kings of the world would fight wars to control it. The value of those ingredients alone could buy islands."
I folded my arms, nodding thoughtfully. "So you're chasing a dream that makes you both valuable and a target. Sounds like pirate life to me."
Sanji smirked faintly, lighting a fresh cigarette with a flourish. "I don't care. It's worth it. Cooking here's safe, but out there? That's where legends are made—and meals that change lives."
Johnny scratched his head. "All Blue? Sounds like a fisherman's tall tale. But hey, if it means more feasts, count me in!"
Yosaku grinned. "Yeah! We'll be the official taste-testers! No poison gets past us!"
Usopp waved his arms dramatically. "And I'll be the sniper who shoots the biggest fish! With my special 'Fish-Slaying Star' ammo!"
Zoro rolled his eyes. "You'd miss and hit the ship."
{ego}: "Wow, listen to this guy. A legendary sea where all fish meet? Sure, and maybe my Master will also sprout wings and become a butterfly. Someone get this simp a reality check. And these bounty hunters? They're like the comic relief nobody asked for—next they'll suggest All Blue has talking fish."
[system]: "Ara ara~ I think it's sweet. Dreams make mortals shine… though not as brightly as you, my Sunny. No one is allowed to outshine you~ ♥
The conversation was cut short by a heavy thunk that reverberated through the floorboards. Zeff had stepped into the room, his wooden peg leg echoing like a judge's gavel. The old man, with his braided mustache and chef's hat perched at a jaunty angle, gave Sanji a sharp glare that could curdle milk, then turned his piercing gaze toward us. His one good eye scanned the group, lingering on Lucy—who was currently stuffing three steaks into her mouth at once, cheeks bulging like a chipmunk preparing for winter.
"I heard some interesting things," Zeff said gruffly, his voice gravelly from years of barking orders. "So. You lot are pirates, eh? And you—" his crutch jabbed toward Lucy, who froze mid-chew. "You want to be Pirate Queen? With a mouth like that, you'll eat the world before you conquer it."
Lucy choked on her steak, thumping her chest wildly until it went down. "Mhmph! Y-yeah! That's right! Pirate Queen Lucy, at your service! And your food's amazing—got any more boar?"
Zeff snorted, a sound like steam escaping a pressure cooker. "Hmph. You've got spirit, I'll give you that—spirit and an appetite that could bankrupt a kingdom. And you," he jabbed his crutch at Sanji like a spear, "you've got no spine. Falling over yourself for women when you've got a dream to chase. Pathetic. Drooling like a lovesick puppy instead of chasing the horizon."
Sanji bristled, his face flushing red. "Old man—! You don't understand—"
"Don't talk back, eggplant!" Zeff snapped, his voice booming. "You think you'll find your All Blue standing around here drooling over girls? Polishing pans and serving slop to tourists? Get your head out of the clouds—or wherever else it's stuck!"
Sanji's teeth clenched, fists shaking at his sides, his cigarette smoldering forgotten. The tension in the air was thick, like over-reduced sauce, everyone holding their breath.
Lucy blinked between them, grease still smeared across her face like war paint. "…Wait, is this like a father scolding his kid? 'Cause it's kinda cute. Go on, Curly—fight back! Or hug it out!"
Usopp whispered loudly to Nami, "Should we intervene? This feels like family drama—I once had an aunt who argued like this over recipes."
Nami shushed him. "Shh! Let it play out. But if they start throwing knives, I'm charging for the show."
Johnny and Yosaku exchanged glances. Johnny: "Whoa, tough love! Reminds me of our old master." Yosaku: "Yeah, but with more peg legs and less yelling about bounties."
I reached over and flicked Lucy's forehead lightly. "Shh. Not the time for commentary."
The tension hung heavy, Sanji's loyalty clashing with his dream like waves against the Baratie's hull. I could see it tearing him in two—the pull of the home that had shaped him versus the call of the unknown seas.
Lucy, of course, broke the silence the only way she knew how—by yelling at the top of her lungs. "SANJIIII! IF YOU DON'T COME WITH US, I'LL STARVE TO DEATH!! Right here! On this floor! Dramatic death scene incoming!"
The entire restaurant turned to stare, a few patrons chuckling nervously, others edging toward the exits.
Nami groaned, sinking lower into her seat. "You already said that… twice. And now you've scared off half the customers."
Zoro muttered from the corner, "…Kill me now. This is worse than Mihawk."
Usopp fanned himself. "The drama! It's like one of those soap operas my village elders talked about!"
Sanji's cigarette trembled between his fingers, his heart on his sleeve. This was just the beginning of the storm brewing between him and Zeff, but I could sense the winds shifting.
The Baratie hummed with the tired noise of people trying to return to normal. Pots clanged in a slow, rhythmic symphony from the kitchen, waiters mopped up mountains of crumbs and spills with exaggerated sighs, and Lucy was already cornering a hapless staff member for "mysterious bonus meat," her eyes gleaming like a predator's. The whole place smelled of browned butter, lingering garlic, and something curiously like second chances—bitter yet hopeful.
Zeff's peg leg thudded as he stepped forward, his presence commanding the room like a captain on deck. The old man's voice cut through the din like a cleaver through bone. "Get out." His words were blunt, aimed at Sanji like a well-thrown knife.
Sanji's face flickered—anger flashing in his eyes, loyalty twisting his features, and something rawer, almost like pain, cracking through his usual suave mask. He opened his mouth as if to argue, but Zeff shoved him hard enough that everyone at the nearby tables heard the breath whoosh out of him. Sanji stumbled, his knees hitting the floor with a thud that echoed awkwardly.
He didn't fall because of weakness; he fell because the world he owed everything to had just given him one final order: go. He lowered his gaze, hands flat on the planks, cigarette forgotten between his lips as ash scattered like confetti.
"Old man," he said, voice rough and thick with emotion, "you raised me from nothing. You fed me when I was starving, taught me to cook when I was lost. You saved my life—gave your own leg for it. I won't leave because it's easy. I won't leave and make you regret saving a brat like me."
Zeff spat a laugh that had equal parts scorn and something that looked dangerously like pride hidden in the crinkles around his eye. "Then prove you deserve it, you curly-browed fool. Go chase the All Blue. Don't die here choking on comfort and regrets. The sea's no place for half-hearted cooks."
There was a beat—one of those ridiculous, suspended movie beats where every breath suddenly mattered, the room holding its collective breath. Sanji's jaw trembled, his shoulders shaking. He bowed his head deeper, a ritual more than a plea, his forehead pressing to the floor in a quiet, broken gesture of gratitude. "Thank you. For everything. For the lessons, the kicks, the life you gave me."
Lucy, mouth still half-full of roast from her earlier raid, watched with a stupid kind of fondness that made the room slightly warmer despite the tension. "Aww," she declared through a mouthful, then barked like a drill sergeant, "Get up, you dramatic curly-brow! If you don't come with us, I'll starve to death and it'll be your fault. I'll haunt you as a hungry ghost—boo!"
Everyone blinked. Even Zoro, who had perfected the 'I-can't-believe-I'm-still-on-this-boat' face, cracked a reluctant smirk. Usopp snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. "Ghost Lucy? That'd be terrifying—eternal demands for snacks!"
Johnny wiped a fake tear. "Man, this is deep! Like our bounties—bottomless!" Yosaku nodded solemnly. "Yeah, bro. Pass the tissues."
Sanji staggered up, his mascaraed eyes—wait, no, just watery from emotion—bright with something fierce and resolute. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, brandishing a bravado that didn't quite mask the cracking voice. "You want me? You really mean it?" His gaze snapped from Lucy to Nami, and finally to the rest of our motley crew—to me, because I was staring like an idiot, to Zoro with a nod of respect, to Usopp who gave a thumbs-up, and even to Johnny and Yosaku who saluted dramatically.
Zoro rolled his shoulders, wincing slightly from his wounds. "Don't tell me you're actually leaving us for some… buffeted-sandwich caller." He grinned a dangerous grin that was half jab, half affection, the kind only rivals share.
Sanji growled back, heat in his stare but a spark of camaraderie underneath. "Shut it, marimo. At least I have a dream worth burning for—not just napping and swinging swords at shadows." He took a deep breath, and then, in a little voice that had no right to be so steady, he said, "If I go, it's to find the All Blue. I won't be anyone's meal ticket. I'll cook to make it happen—for the crew, for the dream."
{ego}: "Okay, props where props are due. The man actually said something that wasn't flirty mush. Still, who writes these speeches? Sanji, stop being so dramatic—you're making the rest of us look sane.
[system]: "Ara~ Sanji's path aligns with your destiny, my Sunny. He's useful. I'll permit his inclusion… but I'll be watching closely~ protective protocols ready, should he ever forget his place ♥
Zeff watched Sanji like a man waiting for a spark to either light a fire or fizzle out. Then, softer than any of us expected, he said, "If you're going, don't come back here for comfort. Go find something you can't find standing in my kitchen. And take care of these idiots—they look like they need a real meal."
Sanji blinked, surprise flickering across his face. Then, with the theatrical flare of a man born to dish out romance on plates, he grabbed Lucy's offered hand—greasy as it was—and pulled himself fully upright.
"Then I'll go with you," he said to her, voice steady now. "But don't think this is about you alone." His eyes flicked to us—to Nami with a wink, to Zoro with a challenging smirk, to me with a nod of acknowledgment, to Usopp who beamed, and to Johnny and Yosaku who whooped. "I go because I owe more than I can pay, and I want a reason to cook that's worth a lifetime's work."
Lucy, who had moments ago threatened mass theatrical starvation, beamed like she'd won a prize bigger than any treasure. "Yes! New cook! Double rations! I hope he's good at desserts too—chocolate fountains? Ice cream mountains?"
The moment blew up into the usual mess of yelling and good-bye theatrics. Usopp made a vow to be the grand chronicler of Sanji's heroic departure, sketching a quick "epic portrait" on a napkin that looked more like a stick figure with curly hair. Zoro and Sanji exchanged their usual gravelly insults—"Don't die on me, curly." "You first, moss-head."—disguised as barbs but laced with respect. Johnny and Yosaku slapped Sanji on the back, declaring him "honorary bounty hunter" and promising to "hunt rare ingredients" for him. It was exactly the sort of loud, human mess I'd signed up for.
Sanji took a small bow, then dropped to one knee in front of Zeff once more—the famous kneeling scene, but this time it felt more like a promise than supplication. "Old man," he said, breath shuddering but eyes clear, "I'll come back with the All Blue or I'll die trying. Thank you for the plate, the leg, the life. For turning a starving kid into a chef."
Zeff looked down at him, his hard exterior cracking just enough for something like affection to spill through the seams. "Bring me a fish I can't fry," Zeff said gruffly, his voice gruffer to hide the emotion. "And don't come back with childish excuses. Now get out before I change my mind and make you scrub pots for eternity."
Sanji rose, and the room seemed to exhale in relief. It was messy, imperfect, and full of love—exactly what a crew needed. Laughter bubbled up, ragged and relieved, as the tension dissolved into backslaps and toasts with whatever drinks were handy.
{ego}: "Okay readers, moment of clarity: Sanji's gone and you probably cried. I mean—me? Pfft—no, not me. But fine. He did well. He still drools at hair, but whatever. Good luck to the floppy-handed cook.
[system]: "Fufufu~ network expansion complete. Sanji added as allied asset. Emotional jealousy: active but stable. Monitoring continues. Love you, my Sunny~ ♥
Zoro grumbled something about "don't get sentimental," immediately followed by a half-smile that was impossible to hide. Sanji snorted, lighting another cigarette as if that would soothe the storm in his chest.
"Don't expect me to cook you a lifetime's worth of steaks for free," Sanji said, eyes locking with mine for a flash. Something in his gaze was a promise, not just to Lucy, but to the whole rag-tag group. "I'll do it because I want to find the All Blue. But if you idiots get in my way, I'll fry you myself."
Lucy hopped up, hugging Sanji with no care for formality or grease stains. "Deal! Now, let's eat one last meal and leave before the old man has a change of heart and chains you to the stove."
We all laughed—a ragged, relieved sound that filled the Baratie one last time. Life slid back into motion as Sanji began to pack what little he'd take: a few cherished knives, a worn recipe book from Zeff, and a suitcase of fine ingredients "for the road." Zeff slapped a battered tin lunchbox into his hands—filled with who-knows-what sentimental grub—and shoved him toward the gangplank with the force of a man sending his child into a storm, muttering, "Don't embarrass me out there."
The leaving scene was pure chaos, as befitted our crew. We boarded the Going Merry under the late afternoon sun, the ship bobbing eagerly in the waves like it sensed the new energy. Lucy scampered up the ramp first, yelling, "Home sweet home! Sanji, kitchen's that way—start with dessert!" Nami followed, maps in hand, already plotting our next course while shooting Sanji a teasing smile. "Don't burn anything on your first day, Cook."
Usopp hauled Sanji's bags, puffing dramatically. "These are heavy! What's in here, gold bricks? Or just your ego?"
Zoro limped aboard, Johnny and Yosaku flanking him like excited puppies. Johnny: "Big bro, you sure you're okay? We can carry you!" Yosaku: "Yeah! Piggyback style!" Zoro growled, "Touch me and die," but let them help with his sword anyway.
Sanji paused at the gangplank, turning back for one last look at the Baratie—his home, his past. Zeff stood on the deck, arms crossed, nodding gruffly. No words, just a shared understanding. Then Sanji stepped aboard, the Merry creaking under the added weight.
As we cast off, the sails billowing with a fresh breeze, the deck came alive with chatter. Lucy raided the galley for snacks, Usopp spun tales of "the legendary cook's joining," Zoro napped against the mast, and Johnny and Yosaku practiced "bounty hunter poses" that looked more like bad dancing. Sanji lit up in the kitchen, already chopping vegetables with flair. "First meal on me—All Blue preview!"
I leaned on the rail, watching the Baratie shrink into the distance, a smile tugging at my lips. This—the arguing, the aching promises, the small betrayals that were really tests—was the exact kind of life I wanted. A life where people left and came back stronger, where cooks chased oceans and swordsmen chased blades, and where my little absurd family kept growing stranger.
{ego}: "And now, ladies and gentlemen, cue the next arc. Put on your tissues, prepare the maps, and don't forget to check Sanji's hair—it's getting longer and therefore more dangerous."
[system]: "Ara ara~ next adventure unlocked~ but remember, Master, if anyone tries to monopolize your heart, I'll activate pre-emptive affection mode. Fufufu~ you belong only to me, after all ♥"
We set sail soon after; the Going Merry's deck was louder by one more voice, and for once, the future felt like a warm, messy stew—too salty to be perfect, but exactly the thing we all wanted for dinner.