Chapter Text
Maybe it had been naive of Sanji, but he’d assumed that the Rainbow Mist situation would be his only encounter with time fuckery in his life. Even with all the nonsense of the Grand Line, time travel is the sort of thing that most of the world’s population is unlikely to deal with. With those odds, having anything to do with it twice is so unlikely that you really shouldn’t even worry about it happening. Especially when it hasn't been a day since your first time travel situation.
Sanji should have known better. Not that it would have prepared him for what he finds when he runs out of the galley, summoned by Nami-san’s shocked scream and Chopper’s panicked cries for a doctor.
There’s a man kneeling on the Merry’s deck, curled into himself. He’s holding his left hand away from his body, so the blood coming from where his ring finger should be can drip freely onto the wood. His wavy blond hair reaches his shoulders, and Sanji knows who he is the moment he sees a curly eyebrow and a blue eye locks on him. The man’s left eye is hidden by his hair. All things considered, this man can be considered young, but he’s clearly much older than Sanji. He’s still running and hiding from his past. Maybe he’ll still be covering half of his face when he’s sixty, eighty, a fucking corpse.
Sanji stands frozen at the door to the galley as the crew gathers around this other version of himself.
“His hand! Help him!” somebody urges, a cry that sounds like hunger and darkness. It takes him a moment to recognize the voice as his own. His cigarette falls to the deck and it's only out of reflex that he crushes it under his shoe.
His plea gets Chopper to move, but Sanji stays where he is. He takes note of Zoro standing close to their surprise guest, a hand on the hilt of his swords, while Luffy’s coming forward without considering that this might be a trap.
“Sanji!” Luffy says, and Sanji looks at him before he realizes that Luffy’s talking to this other version of himself. “Sanji, what happened?”
Luffy stands as close as he can without interfering with Chopper. That says just as much about the severity of the situation as the look on his face: grave and concerned, taking in the sight of the other Sanji’s wounded hand.
The other Sanji looks up at Luffy and stares at him, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. How long has it been since this other Sanji saw Luffy like this? What's in store for them, that it makes the other Sanji look heartbroken at the sight of his captain? Whatever it is, it will tear him apart, because he only manages to hide the pain after a full second, when normally Sanji has it handled and secured before his face can even do so much as twitch.
“Sanji!” Luffy urges. Whether or not he noticed the reaction caused by his presence is anyone's guess.
Sanji's going to bet that he saw it, because Luffy sniffs out sorrow and regrets like it's another meal with which to fill his bottomless stomach.
The other Sanji laughs bitterly, a bit manic, and he seems to be smiling at a personal joke when he says, “Nothing happened.”
He gets to his feet and asks Chopper to lead him to the infirmary. That's not something he'd need to ask for if he was still sailing on the Merry.
When the other Sanji and Chopper disappear into their makeshift infirmary, followed by a Zoro that’s yet to lower his guard, all eyes turn to Sanji.
He lights a new cigarette and meets their gazes. Luffy and Robin-chan are unreadable. Usopp and Nami-san are worried.
“He'll have to eat to get better,” Sanji says.
Luffy grins, and that’s the sight Sanji focuses on as he turns around to head back inside. He refuses to wonder about anything except how much his tastes might change through the years.
Even if he doesn’t like the same things anymore, nostalgia should make the other Sanji appreciate the food he's about to eat.
Sanji pauses with a hand hovering over his knives.
Fuck. His future self is probably a better cook than him.
“My most sincere apologies for surprising you all.” The Other sounds like he means it. “If I'd known how, I'd have tried for a less shocking entrance. I hope I didn't rattle you, my darlings,” he says to Nami-san and Robin-chan, and those words, he definitely means.
They're gathered in the galley in front of the closest thing to a feast Sanji will allow himself to prepare without a direct order to do so. Food is a guaranteed method to get into someone's good graces.
Sanji won't stop staring at The Other while he eats. He’s trying to discover, through the minimal changes in The Other’s expression, what needs to be improved.
Everything The Other does is a clue about the future, but Sanji will only focus on the food.
“How old are you?” Usopp asks.
Fuck you too, Usopp.
“That's not a very polite question,” The Other chastises lightly.
Zoro rolls his eyes. The Other’s gaze fixes on him, strangely fascinated by the movement. That means something too. Sanji won't think about it.
“From some of the things you've said, I understand that these events, that for us constitute the present, are something that you have already lived through?” Robin-chan asks.
“That's right, Robin-chan!” The Other says, hearts in his eyes as he goes on to praise Robin-chan's brilliance.
“Robin-chan is so smart,” Sanji himself sighs, because she is and it must be said.
“Great,” Zoro groans, “now there's two of them.”
“Shut up, Marimo,” The Other says, and Sanji begrudgingly appreciates him.
“So things between you and Zoro are the same in the future, huh?” Usopp says, looking tired.
That just happens to be the one topic that Sanji needs to know about and dreads. He doesn’t know whether or not to consider it lucky that he has been observing his future self with a level of attention he only reserves for food, women and Zoro, because it lets him catch The Other’s immediate reaction to Usopp’s innocent comment. If Sanji had to pick a word, he’d call it a flinch, but it was too small for that. It was a quick, minute tensing of every muscle in The Other’s body, like a response to a full-body attack.
“Some things simply can’t change. It’s impossible when you’re dealing with him, you see?” The Other says, giving the crew a falsely apologetic look. When his eyes meet Sanji’s, the sentiment becomes genuine.
“Oi,” Zoro warns.
“Don’t try, Shitty Swordsman,” The Other says, raising his eyebrow. “I have twenty-one years of training on you.”
“So that means you’re still around each other then and that you haven’t stopped training, Cook-san,” Robin lists. “It’s nice to know that the Straw Hat Pirates are still going around the world after so long.”
The Other grimaces. “I’m not sure I was supposed to let you know that.”
Sanji covers his face and groans. “I’ll have to do better than you when it’s my turn to do this.”
“You won’t.”
Zoro, Usopp and Nami-san laugh at him. Terrible.
“You know, I think I, the Great Captain Usopp, could give you some pointers on time travel!” Usopp’s words are partly lost in his laughter. “Once, I encountered a Devil Fruit user that froze me in time! While the world went on around me, I remained in a single second, unaware of what was happening, completely vulnerable in case somebody decided to attack me!”
“That’s so scary!” Chopper says.
“But how would traveling forward in time compare to this situation?” Nami-san asks, smiling mischievously and looking as beautiful as she always does when she one-ups someone. “You didn’t have to worry about revealing the future.”
The Other looks at them with a fondness that matches what Sanji feels sometimes and doesn’t let himself show. Not yet. Maybe not even in twenty years; perhaps The Other is only allowing himself to show it now that he won’t have to deal with any consequences, now he knows he gets to keep and love these people for two whole decades. Or maybe because he knows he won’t get to do it.
The moment dies a swift and brutal death when The Other meets Sanji’s gaze and then lowers his eyes to his injured hand, which he’s keeping close to his chest. “Sorry about the spoilers, Little Eggplant.”
How dare he—
“Little Eggplant?” Usopp repeats in a whisper, exchanging a look with Nami-san.
“Don’t call me that,” Sanji growls at the same time, because he can either focus on the nickname or on the horror of inevitably heading towards an event that might kill part of his soul.
“I’m not calling you by our name, it feels weird,” The Other says, shrugging and not even glancing at Sanji, who’s left to glare at The Other’s hair.
“It’s the least you owe me, since you went and got injured like that,” Sanji says, pointing at the bandages around The Other’s hand. He knows Chopper did his best and that his best was fucking amazing, but Chopper can’t regrow a finger.
“You think I had a choice?” The Other sounds darkly amused by the idea. Or maybe just resigned.
“Of course you did!” Sanji half stands up, ready to kick The Other. He deserves it. “You knew it was going to happen!”
The Other looks at him and raises his visible eyebrow, challenging. There's pity in his smirk and Sanji won't. Think. About. It.
“Hey, Old Sanji,” Luffy starts, and The Other splutters.
“Old?!” both he and Sanji yell.
“He’s forty!” Sanji exclaims, pointing at The Other. “That’s not old!”
“I’m on my best years!” The Other defends himself.
Luffy tilts his head. “You’re older than our Sanji. You’re Old Sanji. If we had an even older one he’d be Oldest Sanji.” He crosses his arms over his chest and nods in agreement with himself. “And if we got another one he’d be Most Oldest Sanji.”
That whole sentence was a crime against language and sense and Sanji weeps in his soul.
The Other blinks. Then he chuckles. Then he starts laughing, full-bodied and genuine.
“Never change, Luffy,” he says, and Sanji hears it as the plea it is.
His body feels heavy and his head feels light, forcing Sanji to sit down again.
“Why would I?” Luffy asks, frowning.
The Other smiles softly and lets it go, but a sense of dread falls upon all of them.
“Anyway, Old Sanji,” Luffy says, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward, “how did you get hurt?”
Seems like the sense of dread decided not to fall upon Luffy, who is watching The Other with all the intensity and seriousness he seems to keep in store just for moments like these.
This is a boy that would die for his dream, but also for each and every one of them if he had to. Sanji saw it at the Baratie, in Arlong Park and in Alabasta. He sees it here. This boy will be king, and The Other is his subject.
Zoro sits straighter at Luffy’s tone and Sanji swallows. The Demon of the East Blue is ready in case his captain has an order for him.
The Other only shakes his head, unaffected by Luffy’s potential greatness. “I’m sorry, Captain, but I can’t tell you.”
“You have to, so we can change your future,” Luffy says.
“It’s a private matter,” The Other insists.
Sanji’s heart picks up speed.
Tell him, he silently commands The Other, because in this moment that boy isn't Luffy; it's their captain, the future Pirate King. Sanji must bow to his betters.
“Your hand, Old Sanji.”
It’s a good attempt, everybody knows how important his hands are to Sanji. The possibility of saving them is half the reason Sanji wants The Other to tell them what happened.
The Other… grins. “I was protecting the love of my life.”
He sounds so fucking proud of himself. Smug, even. Zoro scoffs and Sanji wants to throw up.
Usopp and Chopper turn their eyes to Nami-san, who presses her lips into a tight line and gives Sanji a look of deep discomfort. Robin-chan and Luffy keep their attention on The Other, who meets Sanji’s gaze and shrugs, like he didn’t really go and ruin their lives. Their life. Sanji’s future.
Is it possible to kick someone back to his own time?
“Quit that, you two!” The Other snaps at Usopp and Chopper when he notices what they’re doing. “This has nothing to do with my sweet Mellorine.”
“Like there’s anybody else you’d call the love of your life,” Zoro says, annoyance dripping off every syllable.
“You don’t know shit, Moss-head,” The Other says.
God, I wish that was me.
“Many things can happen in twenty years,” Robin-chan says, giving The Other a scrutinizing look. She must have caught the mistake in his reply, because she’s the smartest person Sanji has ever met. Of course she noticed that The Other didn’t pick the easy out of claiming he’d met someone new to whom such an important title could be applied.
“I have to stop talking,” The Other mutters. Robin-chan's lips curve softly into what could be a smile, or maybe just an acknowledgement of his (and Sanji’s) discomfort.
Can I be in love with her instead? Please?
“Would it help you if we told you what we have been up to this point, Cook-san?”
“If you could do me such a favor, dear,” The Other says.
“Oh! I can tell him!” Luffy jumps in, a hand in the air, all seriousness gone.
“You can all tell me.”
They manage. It's a mess, but it's not like The Other doesn't know what they're talking about. He smokes in silence while they talk and Sanji watches him and the way he looks at the crew. He knows all his tells, he knows that The Other loves these people, he knows his crew will suffer one day. The Other’s future scares Sanji.
It’s a surprise when The Other snorts.
“Mr. Prince, huh?” There's an amused glint in his eye. “That's a shit alias, Little Eggplant.”
“Shut up, it was clever and you know it,” Sanji says, his first words since the recounting of their adventures began.
The Other laughs around his cigarette. “Was it, Prince Sanji?”
The nickname has every guy in the crew snickering; even Zoro, who nodded off a couple of times during the whole story. Nami-san and Robin-chan hide smiles behind their hands. If they knew the truth behind the joke, they wouldn't laugh.
The Other knows the truth and he can laugh anyway. He can tease Sanji about their past without any malice, and Sanji bristles, envious and afraid.
“Fuck this,” he mutters, standing up. “I'll be outside.”
He ignores the others' comments and questions as he leaves. He pretends he doesn’t feel The Other’s eyes on his back.
Fuck his future self. Fuck him and his confidence, and his grief, and his stubborn heart.
Sanji leans against the railing and smokes to avoid thinking. This is a whole new level of self-hatred. If he wasn’t the one feeling it, he’d consider it worthy of analysis. Not by him, because he’s not touching the landmine that is psychology, but still, someone should take a look at this. Ideally not with him as the study subject.
Yeah, he’s not doing well at not thinking.
“Hey.”
It’s been at least an hour since Sanji left the galley, possibly two. He doesn’t recognize the voice.
That’s what I sound like?
He turns his head just enough to acknowledge The Other’s presence. He seems to take that as an invitation to join Sanji.
“Mind if I smoke?” The Other asks, already lighting his cigarette. It’s tempting to say ‘Yes’.
Sanji chooses to bite his tongue.
They stand side by side, Sanji facing the ocean while The Other looks at the Merry.
“Are you up to date on our life?” Sanji finally asks, watching him out of the corner of his eye. He has to wonder whether or not The Other purposefully stood with the visible half of his face to Sanji. Like an invitation to be curious.
“Yeah.” The Other blows out the smoke slowly. His cigarettes don't smell the same as Sanji’s. “Have you really been traveling for only a few months? That felt like over three years of adventures.”
“It's been an eventful journey.” Understatement of the century for most of the world’s population. An accurate summary for a prince of Germa. “I'm guessing it'll stay the same?”
And there it is again, the sorrow.
“Yeah, you could say that.” The Other takes a long drag of his cigarette and holds his injured hand closer to his chest. “Have you met someone named Trinket already?”
He's certain they haven't. If this person has stuck in the mind of his future self, they should have stuck in Sanji’s too.
“Not that I know of. What are they like?”
“She's a gem of a woman,” The Other sighs dreamily.
“That's redundant.”
“You'll see when you meet her.” A thoughtful hum. “I know we met her properly at some point after Wano, but it didn't hurt to check if we'd run into her before.”
Sanji takes note of what little The Other has given him: a woman known as Trinket, somewhere or someone named Wano, more adventures. He wonders if he'll have to remember this conversation word for word or if it'll happen the same when it's his turn at the other side of it. He doesn't know if what The Other has revealed is an accident or kindness.
“Say hi to her from me when you meet her,” The Other continues, unaware or uncaring of Sanji’s silence. “She likes to dabble in time fuckery, she shouldn't be surprised.”
Sanji hums noncomittally.
More silence. More smoking.
“The love of your life, huh?” Sanji says quietly.
“Unfortunately.”
“Are you loved in turn?”
The Other’s sad smile is enough of an answer.
Sanji rests an elbow on the railing and buries his hand in his hair.
“Fuck.” He grabs a fistful and pulls. “Fuck.”
“Tell me about it.” The Other doesn't sound very bothered.
“How?” Sanji demands. “It's been twenty years!”
“Twenty-one,” The Other corrects, matter-of-factly.
“That's worse!” Sanji cries.
The Other turns his face to him and brings a finger to his lips. He tilts his head towards the galley and then pointedly looks up at the crow's nest.
“Small ship, Little Eggplant, and I don't think the lovely Robin-chan is affording us the privilege of privacy.”
“Don't say that about her,” Sanji warns, pointing an accusing finger at The Other.
“I'm not badmouthing her; she's wonderful and perfect and has every right to do whatever she wants, including eavesdropping into private conversations about unrequited love.” From anybody else, that'd be sarcastic.
Sanji lowers his hand to the railing. He's yet to let go of his hair.
“You should be over it already!” Sanji hisses.
“Sorry to disappoint,” The Other says, and yes, that's sincere too. Forty years in the world and Sanji’s still a failure.
It drains the fight out of Sanji. His hand falls from his hair and comes to hold onto the railing as well.
The Other exhales, making smoke rings.
“I talked about love with the Marimo once,” he says conversationally. Sanji’s heart drops. “I told him I'd been in love for years with someone, and that I didn't think it'd end any time soon.”
“What did he say?”
“That I lacked self-control. That love is a choice, so if I wasn't getting over it that was my fault.”
“What a dick.”
“I know!” The Other laughs, entertained despite everything. “I kicked him for that, don’t worry.”
“Good.” Sanji smiles, feeling himself in sync with The Other for the first time. “Did you leave a bruise?”
“Of course.” The Other’s grin widens. “More than one.”
“Excellent. Well done,” Sanji says, and offers The Other a new cigarette.
He accepts it and studies it for a long moment before tucking it into the pocket of the loose pink button-up he's wearing.
“I'll keep it for luck,” he offers as an explanation while getting out one of his own. Sanji doesn't ask for one; he wants to discover that variation of his vice by himself.
More smoke rings. More of The Other looking at every detail of the Merry with a longing and reverence that chills Sanji’s blood and makes him grip the Merry’s railing tightly. He tries to sear the wood’s texture into his mind.
“He's right, though,” The Other suddenly says. Sanji doesn't have to bother trying to figure out what he means, because he immediately adds, “It is a choice. Every day, I fall in love. I could leave, or forget, or tell him and let him break my heart, but instead I choose another day of longing.” He makes a face. “He can never know he's right, he'd rub it in for the rest of his life.”
“I'm not telling him if you're not telling him."
“Deal.”
Twenty-one years of longing. It's already bad now that it's mostly attraction, now that it feels like flambéing a dish—quick flames that will die as soon as there's nothing left for them to burn. He can't imagine how much worse it'll be when it becomes a mature love, the sort that warms you up like the oven in winter while you bake.
“Do you remember this conversation?” Sanji asks.
The Other nods. “I also remember how you feel now.”
Sanji purses his lips. His hopelessness is settling on his bones, seeping through them and making its way to their center to become part of the marrow.
“Why did you say that? When Luffy asked you how you got hurt?”
The Other snorts. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to lie to him? I swear he can smell it when someone's lying.” Grumbling, he adds, “There's a lie detector somewhere in him, I know it.”
Luffy in the future is still a threat to emotional privacy. Got it.
“And why are you lying to me now?”
The Other presses his lips into a tight line, guilty.
“Tell me the real reason why you didn’t lie,” Sanji demands.
The Other tilts his head back and fixes his gaze on the crow’s nest. “It's been too long. I wanted to be honest about this at least once.”
Sanji lowers his head and bites his lip.
“He’ll know.” Sanji's voice is barely more than a whisper. “When you get back. He’ll know.”
The Other scoffs. “I doubt he remembers what I said today. It’s not like he believed it.”
Sanji stares, incredulous. “You— I’m going to lose a finger for him.” Once again, he starts pulling at his hair. “He's an idiot, but even he can figure that out.”
“Sanji,” The Other says gravely. Sanji reflexively tightens his grip on the railing. “It doesn't matter.” The Other looks down at his injured hand and closes his eyes for a couple of seconds. “I don't know what happens now. I don’t know if I'll get to go home, or if I'll have to wait twenty-one years to see everyone again.”
And just like that, The Other’s honesty makes sense. Who cares if Zoro figures it out? The Other might have two whole decades to prepare himself for his reaction, the same way he had that long to accept what would happen to his finger.
“You’re lying,” Sanji accuses. It’s a plea. He leans his weight against the railing, feeling faint. He hopes Robin-chan is listening. He hopes she has read some book or heard some story that'll give them the way to save The Other from being stuck here.
“You think I was sent here with a map and a compass?” The Other raises an eyebrow. “You think I want to be here, that I wanted this to happen? The crew has been looking for a solution for years, but we have no way of knowing if it'll work.” He swallows. “I might be stranded, and if that’s the case, well… I’ll make my way back the slow way.” He smiles, full of fake bravado. “So, see? Even if he figures it out, he won’t expect me to still love him when I'm sixty.”
“But you will." There’s no other possible outcome. The day Zoro refused to renounce his dream, he left his mark on Sanji’s stupidly romantic heart. What else could he have felt? Zoro was young, attractive and strong, and he was living the way Sanji wished he could. He'd been ashamed of how much he'd envied that overconfident swordsman that was about to die in front of him. He'd been ashamed of his own weakness at wishing he could go and throw his life into finding the All Blue instead of killing his soul every day in the Baratie. He'd been ashamed of his own selfishness, and he'd hated Zoro for reminding him that he used to have a dream. He'd loved him, as he loves him now, for dreaming.
He loves him because he chooses to do so every day, even though he hates it.
“Yeah,” The Other murmurs. “I will.”
It would have been better if his heart had latched onto someone else, but Sanji will honor its desires. He will savor every drop of affection that flows from it to his arteries and veins and then back into his heart, as restless as the tides at sea.
Perhaps Sanji’s a bit in love with love itself as well.
“Does it hurt the same?”
The Other shakes his head. “You get used to it. And it’s not like it keeps you from living your life.” He smiles, and Sanji thinks he looks content. “You get to sleep with some lovely people, and you even fall in love a couple of times.”
“It doesn’t work out,” Sanji notes.
“Not from lack of trying. You get to stay friends.” A pause. “They're good friends.”
“Should you be telling me all this?”
“It won’t make a difference. I’ve been where you are, remember? I stubbornly fought against everything I’m telling you right now.” He shrugs. “It’s the only way things work out. You have to live every day like you don't know I exist. You have to fight with tooth and claw and assume you won't make it if you don't.”
Sanji turns up his nose. “I don't need you to tell me to make an effort.”
“I don't want you to grow complacent just because you know you'll get to be me.”
“It's because I know you exist that I can't be at ease.”
“Good.”
The Other takes one last long drag of his cigarette and looks around before extinguishing it against the railing. It leaves a small mark on the wood that he rubs with the pad of his thumb.
“I love this ship, you know?” he murmurs to the air.
There's no need to reply and Sanji doubts The Other wants him to. Every word and emotion can be used against you.
“Why don't you stay, Old Sanji?” Luffy asks, eyes wide open and all-seeing. “Having two of you would be so cool.”
More like you think you’d get to eat double the food.
“I'm sorry, Captain,” The Other says, sounding genuinely apologetic, “but you're waiting for me in the future.”
A knot forms in Sanji’s throat.
Luffy grins. “Yeah, I am!”
If anybody tries to make Sanji say a word now, all he'll be able to let out is a sob.
“How are you getting back, Cook-san?” Robin-chan asks, even though she might have been listening while Sanji and The Other talked. Maybe because of that.
“We have a plan,” The Other says. “They're going to try to open a portal for me at a specific place, so I have to head there.”
“Wouldn't it be safer if we took you there?”
“My lovely flower,” The Other says, extending a hand to Robin-chan, palm up, “your concern for my well-being is a comfort in these difficult moments, but I'm certain you know that it's better for everyone involved that I leave as soon as possible.”
Robin-chan concedes with a nod and carefully places her hand over The Other’s, making him sigh in delight.
“It wouldn't do to create another self-fulfilling prophecy,” she says.
“Another?” Usopp asks.
The Other smiles adoringly at Robin-chan.
“You have always been a wonder,” he tells her. “Every second with you has been a gift. Every single one,” he adds intently.
Robin-chan lowers her face, hiding what Sanji is certain is a genuine smile.
“Thank you, Future Cook-san.”
There's something there. Sanji swallows his curiosity, aware that he'll find out the details at some point during the next twenty years.
The Other makes a round through the crew, saying goodbye to each one with cryptic words he's undoubtedly enjoying. Nami even gives Sanji an unimpressed look after The Other bows to her and recites an ode to her beauty.
He has to remember how to breathe when The Other reaches Zoro and pulls him aside. He takes Sanji too, like he knows how scared he is of what he might say.
Well, he probably knows.
“Give me a smile, Marimo,” The Other says, low enough that nobody else should hear him.
“Fuck off, Curls,” Zoro snaps, with a hand over the hilts of his swords and his eyebrows furrowed. “One of you is more than enough.”
The Other puts his hands in his pockets and leans towards Zoro, holding his gaze.
“This whole thing won't be your fault,” The Other says softly, with a tenderness that must be giving them away.
“Of course not!” The look Zoro gives The Other is bewildered to a degree that makes Sanji laugh despite himself. “You were probably protecting some woman!”
“What I mean,” The Other says, laughing as well, “is that you didn't fail as our protector.”
The words make all the cockiness and annoyance disappear from Zoro’s face. He looks like The Other hit him—eyes wide and lips parted to suck in a breath—and reduced him to nothing but the nineteen year-old that Sanji sometimes sees napping with Chopper.
“Who says—?”
“Yeah, I know, you don't care and the only thing that matters to you is your dream.” The Other waves a hand dismissively, making both Zoro and Sanji bristle. “That's now. When I'm from, though?” He gives Zoro a heavy look. “You'll blame yourself for this, and I won't let you. You have to remember that this is a choice I made and that he,” The Other points at Sanji, “will make too when the time comes.” Zoro sets his jaw. The Other smiles. “The only one at fault is my heart.”
Am I always this melodramatic?
Zoro makes a face. The Other takes a step back and heads for Luffy before anything else can be said, leaving Sanji alone with Zoro.
“You have a stupid heart, Love-Cook,” Zoro says, glaring at Sanji, who has to hold back the instinct to kick him.
He takes his time lighting a cigarette, fully aware that every second of silence makes Zoro focus more on him, but too tired to fight.
“Don't say that,” Sanji finally threatens, earning himself a confused look. “This is the only thing I won't let you look down on.”
He walks away from Zoro, unwilling to explain himself—that was more than he should have said. He comes to stand at The Other’s side just as Luffy’s telling him, “You have to come back to us, okay?”
Not thirty minutes ago you wanted him to stay here.
The Other smiles. “I will, Captain, even if I have to get there one day at a time.” The line of his mouth turns amused. “You’ll accept me even if I’m a geezer, right?”
He asks it casually, like he isn’t talking about potentially roaming for twenty-one years. Sanji’s stomach churns at the idea.
“That won’t happen!” Usopp cuts in. “I, the Great Captain Usopp, will find one of the thirteen portals that link the different ages and bring you back to us when all of this happens!”
The Other’s visible eye narrows with how wide his smile is.
“You better, or I’ll be feeding you oats for the rest of my life!”
Usopp looks suitably horrified by the idea, and his face doesn’t change even while they’re putting The Other on a boat and sending him away.
Sanji watches The Other go, making a mental note to get his own log pose in a few years and maybe pick up some skills for when it’s his turn to get sent back to the past.
“Fucking time travel,” he mutters to himself.
The rest have the sense to leave him alone, but not of giving him privacy. He feels his eyes on them while he smokes and watches the horizon, barely moving until he can’t see the boat anymore.
“Fucking Future Sanji,” he adds.
And that’s that. He has to deal with the present. He has twenty-one years to make his peace with the eventual loss of his left ring finger.
He tries to keep The Other out of his mind through their different adventures, but there are times in which he can’t help but remember him.
He thinks about The Other when they lose the Merry. When Zoro takes Luffy’s pain and Sanji promises to himself that next time he will be the one that dies. He sees that he’s as doomed as The Other had said he would be, that he will choose the Marimo’s safety over his own when the time comes. He accepts that his original fascination is gone, and that what’s left has crystallized into a genuine, deep love.
He thinks about The Other when the Vinsmokes decide to reappear in his life, and every time he finds himself missing Zoro’s smile.
Give me a smile, Marimo, he constantly echoes in his mind. He bites down on his cigarette to keep the words inside his mouth.
The one time that thinking of The Other makes him laugh is when they finally meet the mentioned Trinket. It turns out that she can turn herself into amber.
A gem of a woman alright.