[ it's hard to tell, from bee's sweetly meandering story, what exactly the deal with her father was. sanji understands being unwanted — it's not that. or not exactly that, at least not in the way sanji knows it. there's love there, and a desire to be loved, along with what he thinks might be a fundamental lack of knowledge on how to raise a child, much less a child like bee.
he might have that in common with her father. after all, his memories of his mother are fading, and everything he learned from zeff, he learned in the same way someone might suffer a traumatic brain injury. he doesn't want his child to turn out to be a shithead like him.
if whatever is inside of him is even... that. he feels more like a freak than anything else, with nothing in this world making sense except for hunger and pain on most days. but then there are the days with nami’s smile and zoro’s warmth — and this. bee, pressed so soft and tight against him that he feels like she’s been his all along. ]
Will you go to the town over with me? A day for just the two of us. [ it’s not anyone’s fault that he feels suffocated by all the careful attention to his health. he just isn’t used to it. ] We can shop for our own chestnuts and jewelry and sweets. And it’s warm enough to look for more shells. We’ll fill up a jar with our best ones.
[ he sifts through the handkerchief, fingering a shell bleached the pale color of bee’s hair. that’s two presents, the cake and the shells. it’s more than he’d ever gotten for too many lonely years of his life. ]
You can learn things even from awful people. [ so, yes — every single memory of his father is awful. the worst part is that they’re etched more starkly in his mind than the hazy ones he has left of his mother. ] I might’ve never discovered my dream if not for him. The All Blue, a place full of exotic fish and plants and spices. A chef’s paradise. I’ll cook you something grand when I get there.
[ he hopes that she’s there with him when he finds it. his cheek rests against her hair as he idly blows smoke, his mismatched eyes half-lidded. ]
You didn’t tell anyone else about my birthday, did you? [ he can’t imagine having to go through more than once today. ] I don’t want Nami or Zoro to know. I like that it’s just our secret.
( it's apparent to bee, as apparent to anyone else who spends time with bee, that the real north of her heart is placed in people who want to spend time with her. she sees the bi-lines, all the connective pieces of tissue to make her who she is — she used to sit in the tress of withywood manor, behind thick walls of stone and inside the secret tunnels of the house, to spy on the other children having fun and playing with each other. children with pink, rosy cheeks, children who didn't need to be taught to laugh — normal kids who weren't difficult to love, who instinctively hated her. the largest parts of bee's life thus far have taken place on the outside of a door, looking in through the window pane. anyone wanting her around for any amount of time is a gift, she's learned. loneliness is more her enemy than dwalia.
leaning back, she shifts in sanji's lap, fumbling around until she's sitting across him, feet tucked into his thigh, knees resting against his chest. she looks up at him for a long while, colorless, pale eyes blinking. )
I will go with you.
( she tries to say it without any inclination of emotion, which isn't hard for her. once he knows she wants it, it'll be all too easy to break her heart.
not that it's a hard thing to do — sanji already knows she loves him, privately thinking his buck name would be a very suitable prince lovely. because he wants it, he gives it, he has it. love pours out of sanji like blood pours from a slain beast. nuzzling under his chin, bee lazily fists a hand in the front of his shirt, letting her eyes fall closed. she woke up early for the cake, and is very notably very cranky first thing in the morning. )
Your dream ... ( she commits the all blue to memory, deciding she'll look for it in her coming dreams. blue is a color that she associates with sanji — blue and yellow. it makes it more of a challenge, and that makes it fun. ) Why did you decide to become a chef in the beginning of all things, Da?
( she doesn't notice her slip up, too tired to check herself. if she did, she'd probably run away, somewhere where no one could find her, where she could be loathsome, hateful daughter in peace. as it is, she just frowns, shaking her head. )
I did not say. ( it's clear from her tone of voice that she thinks his birthday is something everyone should know, that all should celebrate. ) But I always keep your secrets. You can trust Bee.
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he might have that in common with her father. after all, his memories of his mother are fading, and everything he learned from zeff, he learned in the same way someone might suffer a traumatic brain injury. he doesn't want his child to turn out to be a shithead like him.
if whatever is inside of him is even... that. he feels more like a freak than anything else, with nothing in this world making sense except for hunger and pain on most days. but then there are the days with nami’s smile and zoro’s warmth — and this. bee, pressed so soft and tight against him that he feels like she’s been his all along. ]
Will you go to the town over with me? A day for just the two of us. [ it’s not anyone’s fault that he feels suffocated by all the careful attention to his health. he just isn’t used to it. ] We can shop for our own chestnuts and jewelry and sweets. And it’s warm enough to look for more shells. We’ll fill up a jar with our best ones.
[ he sifts through the handkerchief, fingering a shell bleached the pale color of bee’s hair. that’s two presents, the cake and the shells. it’s more than he’d ever gotten for too many lonely years of his life. ]
You can learn things even from awful people. [ so, yes — every single memory of his father is awful. the worst part is that they’re etched more starkly in his mind than the hazy ones he has left of his mother. ] I might’ve never discovered my dream if not for him. The All Blue, a place full of exotic fish and plants and spices. A chef’s paradise. I’ll cook you something grand when I get there.
[ he hopes that she’s there with him when he finds it. his cheek rests against her hair as he idly blows smoke, his mismatched eyes half-lidded. ]
You didn’t tell anyone else about my birthday, did you? [ he can’t imagine having to go through more than once today. ] I don’t want Nami or Zoro to know. I like that it’s just our secret.
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leaning back, she shifts in sanji's lap, fumbling around until she's sitting across him, feet tucked into his thigh, knees resting against his chest. she looks up at him for a long while, colorless, pale eyes blinking. )
I will go with you.
( she tries to say it without any inclination of emotion, which isn't hard for her. once he knows she wants it, it'll be all too easy to break her heart.
not that it's a hard thing to do — sanji already knows she loves him, privately thinking his buck name would be a very suitable prince lovely. because he wants it, he gives it, he has it. love pours out of sanji like blood pours from a slain beast. nuzzling under his chin, bee lazily fists a hand in the front of his shirt, letting her eyes fall closed. she woke up early for the cake, and is very notably very cranky first thing in the morning. )
Your dream ... ( she commits the all blue to memory, deciding she'll look for it in her coming dreams. blue is a color that she associates with sanji — blue and yellow. it makes it more of a challenge, and that makes it fun. ) Why did you decide to become a chef in the beginning of all things, Da?
( she doesn't notice her slip up, too tired to check herself. if she did, she'd probably run away, somewhere where no one could find her, where she could be loathsome, hateful daughter in peace. as it is, she just frowns, shaking her head. )
I did not say. ( it's clear from her tone of voice that she thinks his birthday is something everyone should know, that all should celebrate. ) But I always keep your secrets. You can trust Bee.