Chapter Text
It’s been three weeks since they’ve stopped at a proper port. The string of islands they’ve been hopping through aren’t even inhabited and the landfall they make on them is just for a short scouting trip to see if there’s anything they can use to keep their stores stocked. Sanji’s been doing his ‘food math’ as Usopp puts it. Calculations that only make sense to the man whose main job is to keep the crew healthy and fed, which is a job no one envies once they meet Luffy. The future king of the pirates eats like he’s never had a meal before or thinks he ever will again but Zoro has seen the three squares and bountiful snacks that Sanji prepares for their captain and knows that isn’t the case. He’s always wondered if the devil fruit powers that make their captain a total wild card mess with his metabolism because Luffy is practically a beanpole compared to Zoro or even Usopp.
Zoro assumes there’s some sort of food math for him too. Not that ever bothers to ask Sanji about it. Even on the days where he lingers in the galley, laying down on the bench seat in a ray of sun to nap while Sanji busies himself with prep work. Zoro can’t remember when he started to do it and Sanji’s never chased him from the kitchen the way he does Luffy and Usopp.
At least not since they’ve started fooling around together.
This time, when Zoro enters the galley, Sanji has a rounded half barrel on his prep area and he’s peeling the last of the potatoes, placing the peels in the barrel and the newly skinned potatoes onto a cutting board. Zoro peers over his shoulder, having to shimmy behind Sanji’s new spot to get to the bench seat anyway. It’s right when he has Sanji’s body between his own and the little kitchen island that he says, “We having peel soup tonight?”
Sanji doesn’t jump when Zoro’s gruff words tickle at his ear. In fact, he doesn’t drive an elbow back or twist his impossibly flexible body to strike at Zoro at all. Instead he just answers, “The peels are for the compost.”
The little moments of closeness that aren’t spurred on by banter or barbs have been becoming more frequent even if neither man has openly acknowledged it. Zoro can see a pink flush at the tip of Sanji’s ears and he casts one steely glance over at the open galley door before placing his hand down by the cutting board on the outside of Sanji’s and he tempts the cook just a bit further by pressing himself against Sanji’s backside. The slim waist and rounded ass of the blonde have been a fixation for the swordsman. Zoro lets himself roll his hips and Sanji is slamming the peeler down onto the board. It shouldn’t be as erotic as it is. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows and surrounded by potato peels while Zoro pokes him with his newly raised attention. The temptation to push back into him is nearly overwhelming but Sanji is, if anything, a diligent cook for his crew. He turns to face Zoro and gives the broader man a slight nudge to reclaim some space between them.
“After dinner.” Sanji tells him firmly enough that Zoro continues to scoot past him to take up his normal spot on the bench. They’ve been sneaking off for the last few weeks, nothing major—mostly hand and mouth stuff to blow off steam. But it’s been escalating ever since Zoro pinned Sanji in the storage room and they had rutted against one another until both of them needed to change clothing. Zoro doesn’t know what to call what they’re doing and Sanji doesn’t seem in any hurry to define it either. Both men agreed to keep it between them for the time being though Robin’s knowing looks have been more and more pointed each time the two get into a fight and their hands linger longer on each other than necessary.
Sanji picks up the peeler once more just when the ship rocks so violently that he’s slammed back against the counter top with a gasp. Zoro also hits the side of the galley and both men lock eyes for only a brief second before they move in sync back out onto the deck.
“We got Marines, bros!” Franky’s voice calls over the roar of cannon fire and the unmistakable sound of Luffy’s laughter.
“Are they out of range?” Usopp’s voice cracks as it carries over to the deck, “They haven’t hit us once…”
Zoro is immediately moving to the port side, two swords drawn as he spots three Marine ships. Each ship is firing two cannons each but Usopp’s remark about them falling short is proven correct as six heavy balls slam into the ocean instead of the Sunny. The waves that crash up are what’s rocking the ship, literally. Despite the confusion, it’s Sanji who pieces together the odd puzzle first.
“They’re forcing us off course!”
Zoro doesn’t worry when he hears that. He’s so used to Nami’s uncanny skill with navigation and the lack of his own that the words off course don’t even phase him. What does claim his attention is Nami’s shouts of concern. She’s peering off the starboard side, honey eyes wide with worry as she realizes what they’re being forced towards, “WHIRLPOOL!”
Usopp is immediately shouting at Franky for a cola burst but their long weeks at sea have depleted most of their supplies. The whirlpool is huge, another feat of the Grand Line and one that has been weaponized by the Marines. Still, the Strawhats are more capable than anyone seems to want to give them credit for. Nami’s already pushed down her fears and is preparing them for the worst, “Sanji! Zoro! Get the sails up! Franky, lock the helm hard to port! Luffy, there’s a rock formation outside of the whirlpool. Grab it and hold onto it! We’re going to slingshot over the worst of it and come out the other side! Robin? Can you secure everyone?”
Without any argument or questions, they all move at words. Extra arms appear to secure Franky, Chopper, Nami, Usopp, and Robin herself. The arms don’t even attempt to hold Luffy still until he’s decided that he has the best spot for his job. Sanji and Zoro both still need to move to climb up the mast and secure the sails. Sanji gets up there faster but Zoro reclaims time with how easily he can haul in the whipping pieces of fabric. Zoro is tying off the final piece when he hears Sanji over the breeze remarking that the Marines have stopped firing cannons. It makes sense, they’re already caught in the undercurrents of the trap and it would be a waste of ammo. Still, it’s a little insulting.
Sunny rocks once more, dipping into the top of the swirling currents of the waters. Both Zoro and Sanji kneel onto the sails, using the thick ropes to steady themselves as they watch Luffy’s arm shoot across the vast expanse and secure a grip on the jagged rocks. If it hurts, Luffy doesn’t mention it–his focus on saving his crew and possibly lunch. The Sunny begins to whip around the edge of the whirlpool, avoiding sinking further into the treacherous waters as Luffy’s power limits are tested against the ocean itself. They’re flung forward when Franky releases the hold on the helm and every Straw Hat is forced to hang on as the Sunny boomerangs across the torrents. Water is drenching the deck, someone–likely Usopp–is screaming and Sanji tosses his hair from his eyes to see that Zoro is standing stock still on the mast. His eyes narrowed down towards the ocean like he sees or likely hears something that Sanji can’t. The intensity on Zoro’s face is downright terrifying as they pass as close to the center of the whirlpool as they need to. Sanji wants to move closer to him, maybe then he can understand what’s caught Zoro’s attention so intently but as the ship begins to right–Zoro doesn’t.
Sanji has never seen Zoro collapse. He’s witnessed the other man knocked over, sure. But there is something horrifying in the way Zoro’s body seems to stop working. The green haired man tips forward, only by the grace of timing that he’s not plummeting towards the wooden deck but Sanji can’t think a whirlpool is any better. Someone else is screaming now–perhaps Nami? Maybe Chopper? Sanji can’t tell because he’s already pushed himself off of the mast to follow Zoro’s descent into the frothy and unforgiving waves. Only just managing to wrap his arms around his crewmate as they both hit the water and disappear into the depths.
Sanji has always been a strong swimmer. His entire life has been spent on the seas in one form or another and if anyone is going to come up from the fierce tides–it’s him. But being weighed down by Zoro makes him question, if only for a moment, his ability to get them both to safety. The light of the surface is fading as they are pulled deeper and deeper until Sanji decides to stop fighting the current and hope for the best. His arms tighten around Zoro as the darkness becomes all he can see. He won’t leave Zoro to the tides, no matter how hard his heart is pounding in his chest and how badly his lungs are screaming for air. He refuses to shut his eyes though, knowing that a split second chance is all they can hope for as they are tossed about like they are nothing and to the ocean–they probably are.
It’s only when Sanji spots another bit of glow that he thinks he’s been tossed about enough to have lost his sense of direction. Perhaps the tides have whirled them back towards the surface even though instinct is screaming at him that he is still moving down. In the center of the whirlpool, so deep that it would never have been seen from the surface, is an island. Soft, white, sand and lush green despite its location. Sanji kicks his feet, forcing himself and Zoro to towards the center and through the wall of roaring water that seemingly leaves the island untouched. The moment he pulls his head through the water, he takes a deep breath and that’s one concern down but the next is getting down and gravity seems content on assisting with that. They tumble from the wall of water down at least ten feet, hitting the sand with a groan. He’s still got a death grip on Zoro because the All Blue be damned if he’s letting him go now but his body is not thrilled with the journey to safety and Sanji can see the darkness in the corner of his eyes starting to grow. The last thing he sees before it fully claims him is a figure emerging from the trees and approaching the two wayward Straw Hats.
When Zoro manages to open his eyes he realizes three things in an instant: he’s no longer on the Sunny, his swords are gone, and his head is on fire. The last one isn’t literal but Zoro hasn’t ached the way his head is throbbing in years. He’s in some sort of hut with the floor being woven from tree leaves. It’s dark and cool but also empty, devoid of anything that might indicate to him what the hell happened. Because he knows something had to have happened since he’s in a strange place and donned in still very wet clothes. He shuts his eyes, screwing them together to try and piece together the lost time. He was on the Sunny…a whirlpool…then the voice. The voice that had called out to him, by name, a beautiful whisper of power and strength. It had beckoned to him but he had told it no…hadn’t he? Zoro knows himself well enough to be certain he wouldn’t have abandoned the others, something else has to have occurred. Either way, he knows he won’t get answers inside the hut. He forces himself back to his feet and pushes open the woven door, the hut is made of primitive material but is well put together considering just how blistering hot it actually feels the moment Zoro is outside of its shade.
The island is definitely one that would be considered transitionally beautiful. Zoro covers his eyes and tries to blink away the brightness of the sun, a dull roar in his ears from all sides as what he had first assumed to be blue sky is now clearly ocean water violently surrounding the island. Huts like the one he just stepped out of litter the line that breaks the beach from a thick jungle. There are other men visible of various ages, but all of them have a hardened look that keeps Zoro’s shoulders tense. Several of them are huddled in conversation but look up when they spot Zoro. The biggest of the group is a head taller than Zoro and just as broad. He is covered in scars, one of which bisects his lower lip, “Welcome brother! Name’s Harlo.”
He looks like he wants to pat Zoro on the shoulder but the look that Zoro is giving him has him placing both on his hips instead, “We haven’t had a new arrival in months. You got a name?”
“Where are my swords?” Zoro asks and the big man frowns.
“Rude, ain’t ya?” Harlo retorts, “You’ll get your weapons back once we know you won’t use ‘em on yourself.”
“What?” Zoro looks surprised enough that Harlo seems to forgive his earlier bluntness. He scratches at his thick beard and motions for Zoro to step further out, “What is this place?”
“The Isle of Keto,” Harlo answers, “Don’t give me that look, I didn’t name the damned place.”
“Right, well,” Zoro steps away from Harlo, “I need a way off of this place.”
Harlo begins laughing and it’s a sound that grates on Zoro’s ears to the point that he frowns, “Something funny?”
“Leave? You can’t just leave,” Harlo explains, “You were called by the sea god, Keto. You don’t leave until Keto releases you.”
“Called? Released?” Zoro pauses, the ache in the back of his head pulses once more, “What?”
Harlo beckons Zoro to follow him once more and this time the swordsman actually does follow him. The big man seems to be an authority figure on the island as Zoro is quick to note that many of the smaller men seem to scramble out of their path and avert their gazes. Harlo leads Zoro towards a stone building, “Keto summons only the most impressive warriors here to partake in the challenge of the island.”
Now Zoro glances around, easily noting that not everyone on the island that he’s seen would qualify as a warrior and Harlo seems to be reading his mind, “The others, huh? We call them leeches. Usually unlucky saps who tried to halt warriors from arriving or got caught up in the calling. We use them for labor mostly…amongst other things.”
Zoro gets the feeling he doesn’t want to think about the other things that the warriors do to the weaker ones, “So, what? I complete a challenge and I get to leave?”
“Something like that,” Harlo nods, “I’ll explain more inside.”
They step closer to the stone building. Muscle bound men with meticulously kept weapons are standing guard at the doors, “This the new call? His leech is a pain in the ass.”
Zoro’s eyes widen as he spots Sanji in the middle of the stone building. The blonde has his legs bound together and his arms are tied behind his back. Zoro’s swords are also near the cook, carelessly tossed to his left. Zoro shifts and shoves one of the guards back with enough force that the other man stumbles back, bringing all eyes on him. He’s only stopped from moving forward by a crushing grip on his forearm. Harlo is holding him back and Zoro curses at the man. Sanji spots him and begins renewing his earlier struggle that likely labeled him a pain in the ass. Another guard drops his body weight between Sanji’s shoulder blades to pin him further.
“Let him go!” Zoro snarls.
“Sorry,” Harlo says, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all, “You’ve been called, warrior, and you must answer the sea god.”