pslplz | Stormy on the Sunny

[Nami is conspicuously absent from dinner that night.

The events leading to their escape from Whole Cake Island remain a jumble of chaos in her mind. Somehow or another, they recovered Sanji, made it away from Big Mom's territory, and saw the Vinsmokes make a strategic retreat for who-knows-where.

Luffy seems unaffected. Of course, he never wavered on Sanji to begin with. For Nami, it isn't-- can't be-- that simple. She waits until the crew has finished and Sanji has cleaned the kitchen. It's late by now, and her stomach burns from prolonged emptiness. With a few mikan from her bushes on board, she slips into the dining hall to roast some duck with vegetables, fry up a pan of egg rice, and create a sauce based off the flavor from her prized fruit.]

[It's conspicuous, yes, and dinner turns into an awkward experience when Nami doesn't come eat with the rest of them. Sanji keeps up appearances by pretending not to be surprised - and he isn't, frankly. Luffy forgave him because that's always been his captain's way. The rest of the crew hadn't been present during Sanji's unforgivable act.

And even if they had been around to witness their chef metaphorically spitting in their faces? Chopper is still too young and naive to hate him. Brook, too aged and wise. Even though they deserve an apology, it's not those two who need to hear it the most.

Don't tangle yourself in a woman's fury, he can hear Zeff chide him from across the sea. They'll either strangle you or trick you into doing it yourself.

Tch. And if he's hearing that shitty excuse for wisdom in his head, sleep won't be coming anytime soon. That's become the norm this past week, how often he forgoes a full night's rest for brooding. Returning to Sunny hasn't helped him kick the habit, either, and thus he slips out of bed and walks the familiar trek for the kitchen, to brew up some coffee and wallow in equal helpings of caffeine and self-pity.

-- So of course that's where he finds her. With Nami's back still turned, Sanji rubs a hand over his face and tries not to choke on his own guilt. Yeah, he can't say he's surprised; she'd be hungry after missing dinner, specifically to miss seeing him.

All the more reason he needs to slip back out, unsighted, if it will mean the woman can eat in peace.

[Really, there are only two people that could be at the door she hears opening, and it's far too quiet to be Luffy in for a fridge raid.

Nami doesn't turn around from the stove to confirm his identity. Her hand pauses with the knife halfway through the fat end of the carrot. The simmer of water on the burner makes the whole room feel on the verge of boiling over.]

Wait a minute, you.

[Maybe deep down, she'd known this was the likeliest way to 'accidentally' meet him privately. Maybe she'd even counted on it.]

[Yes, it would be too easy if he got to come and go as he pleased. Nami's words shackle him in place before he has time to finish turning for the door.

Immediately, his traitorous mouth dries until he can barely squeak a word out, and his temple throbs with self-imposed irritation. This is still his crew mate, isn't she? His navigator. Nervousness is one thing, but don't be a coward.]

Ah, Nami-san. [Never has her given honorific sounded so formal coming from him. He pauses again, this time in resignation, before he pulls away from any chance of escape. His footfalls head for the coffee pot] ... Sorry for the interruption. I felt like coffee tonight.

Well, don't let me stop you. This is your kitchen, after all.

[That might have been a bit passive aggressive. Nami does realize that while she told him to stay, she isn't exactly making it more comfortable for him to do so. It also seems entirely fair all considered. She's still furious over what he put her through. He can handle a few minutes of being in the hot seat for all that.]

[To that, Sanji doesn't give a reply. He doesn't trust himself to. Any word could be taken as a jab or a backpedal under this current atmosphere, and with those options, silence is the kinder friend. He's not out to make this worse for her.

So he throws his concentration into the pot - fetching the water and coffee grinds - with the level of care one would normally expect from gourmet cuisine. Eventually:]

Would you like some as well?

[The silence is probably for the best. It's also intensely tight and conspicuous. Like Sanji, Nami puts her focus on the task in front of her. The knife moves with methodical precision, and a speed that Sanji could easily put to shame. She sweeps the carrot into the pot, rinses the knife off, and reaches for the celery. Chop. Chop. Chop.

It stops with the question. And when she answers, there's a defeat in her voice that she hates.]

Sure.

[It sounds too much like fragility.]

[He'd prefer she just yell at him. That he was prepared for the moment he spat in her face and turned his back on the crew -- because he'd be the first to admit he deserved their hatred.

Fragility is a different beast. Sanji can't pretend he has the right to that side of her anymore.

But he still decides to prioritize silence over groveling - steam the meat to bring out the flavor, he brain cruelly recites. Besides, Nami is in the middle of cooking and doesn't need further distractions. His duty is to fetch her favorite mug, arranged between the bowl of sugar cubes and the cup of cream, before attending to his own coffee.

The water drips steady, precise. A couple of minutes and the pot will fill. Until then, it's the music Nami's cooking makes, and the silence between them]

[The lack of conversation is the best and the worst thing at the same time. It's responsible for the tightness in the air, and yet it's what both of them choose. Nami still isn't sure how she wants to speak to him, or what she wants from him in insisting he stay. She only knows it isn't an apology or groveling.

Fuck it, she may not know what she wants, but the tension is driving her crazy. She dumps the celery in the pot, puts down the knife, and picks up the wooden stirring spoon in a tight grip.

And she turns around to face him with a stern look.]

Name your sins.

-- Eh?

[Hands immediately go up like Nami pulled a gun on him. Or maybe it's surrender. Either way, Sanji's face pulls into a nervous, flabbergasted smile, and he blurts out the first, honest thing that comes to mind:]

Nami-san, that, uh-- that might take a while.

Well, lucky for you! [She says in a tone that knows it might not really feel so lucky.] I've got plenty of time before dinner's ready.

[It might not feel lucky, but it probably is for the best anyway: the sooner they get all this talked out, the sooner they can go back to being friends. The sooner this heavy cloud dissipates.

...That said, she really isn't interested in a laundry list, and heaves a sigh a few moments later.]

Honestly, what I most want to hear from you is an understanding of why I'm so angry. Do you know?

[Given he knows damn well why she's angry, he has no business looking mildly amused by her response (gonna drag him kicking and screaming into this, eh?), and quickly sombers into a more appropriate expression. His eyes pull to the side, hands dropping into the pockets of his dress pants to hide their nervous fidgeting.]

Where to start, eh... [He can't help but take that free pot shot at himself.] Maybe something to do with not trusting my crew.

[A pause]

... Or expecting different shitty results when you and Robin-san tried this already.

[And he could dig his feet in, make a decent case for his actions, but Sanji doubts Nami feels like entertaining him that far]

That's a decent start. Keep going.

[That's her cover. She prefers it to admitting aloud that Sanji thinks more highly of her than is warranted. The truth is far more selfish than either of those offenses. And it wasn't even that he was wrong. Those were compelling reasons for her to be angry in their own right. So was the fact that Sanji treated Luffy the way he did. But that wasn't the heart of the matter either.

On the other hand, maybe the reality is that the truth isn't something Sanji would even think of, all considered. Or, possibly, he knows what it is, but he doesn't dare voice it, because it's no longer his place to.]

Stormy on the Sunny

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