Work Text:
I have always heard about the metaphor that you give your heart to the person you love, and that is what I will do now as an apology for the abandonment I did to her by leaving to get married by orders of germ 66 in an attempt to protect the crew.
If I'm going to cook something the place must be sanitised properly so I've showered first and I've just cleaned and disinfected every last corner of the kitchen, washed my hands thoroughly and prepared the utensils. I have his katana in hand: Wado Ichimonji. This white katana is the one I choose for my task: I clean it carefully, the stupid Marimo never finishes washing it properly.
During my stay at Whole Cake with the Vinsmokes, I discovered that the only thing that really differentiates me from my brothers is that I have feelings, otherwise I'm just like them: robots created to kill. We quadruplets were genetically engineered to make it difficult to kill us, and I'll make the most of it.
With everything on the table, I start to unbutton my light blue shirt, which I fold and put aside. I look at myself in the mirror I brought to my workplace and begin to examine my torso to see where to make the precise cut I need. I take a clean cloth and use it as a gag to muffle the sounds I can make so as not to alert anyone, although the only person inside the boat is Zoro who is training since the others went for a walk around the island. Once everything is ready, I wield Wado, where I see myself reflected in his sharp blade, which has been in charge of dismembering other people's bodies in defence, but this time it will be in the form of love.
I will never forgive myself for what I did to him; what I did to them, so this is my way of apologising.
I bring the sharp blade to my left breastplate, my hands trembling, but sure of what I was going to do. The tip grazes my skin and cuts it slightly, I shudder, but I liked the sensation. I put the blade of the katana back into the cut already made and pushed hard. Pain, that's what I feel. I also feel the tears burning my eyes and my toes squirming, but I don't care: I like it. With the razor in, I move it to the right and cut. I can't stifle the sob and it comes out, albeit stifled by the towel.
I feel my flesh being cut and I like the sensation. I also feel a warmth in my lower abdomen: I don't know if it's the blood trickling down my torso or the arousal rushing down to my manhood.
I take out the katana and lay it on the table, careful not to make any noise. With my right hand, I reach all over the wound and feel the blood flowing and the muscles exposed. I get more and more excited. I insert my fingers into the wound and make my way with them to my vital target organ: my heart, the greatest gift I will ever give.
Already at this rate I get a prominent erection and it's the only thing I'm aware of right now. I feel my ribs cut to the touch and push my hand in further until it reaches my heart: I examine it to the touch and discover that it is jelly-like and slippery. I have my hand all the way into my chest and I grab my heart. I force, a lot of force: force to tear my heart out and not scream. I feel like I can't cry anymore for all that I've cried and yet I'm still crying.
I tighten my grip on my heart so that it doesn't slip out of my hand and I help myself with my left hand. I can feel my muscles tearing and my ribs breaking more. I look down and see how it's coming out little by little what makes me feel every little thing for that swordsman.
Pull. Jalo. Jalo. Pull. It's out.
The relief is immediate: it's as if it had been necessary to burn my heart in full consciousness.
I go up to the crow's nest to leave the food for Zoro, who hasn't been down all afternoon. Once I get inside I see him sleeping on the floor with his weights. I stare at him as if he were hypnotising: his chest rising and falling rhythmically, his skin pearly with sweat, his face peaceful. I don't know how long I admire him in silence, but I'm brought out of my reverie by his deep voice intoning my name.
"Sanji?" I finally wake up, shake my head and look at him challengingly. "What are you doing here, you stupid cook?"
"I come to feed your mossy ass, what would Luffy say if he knew his second in command didn't feed? He'd kick my ass." I said in an attempt to make the concern over the swordsman's feeding indistinguishable. I held out the plate.
Zoro took it, examined it and began to eat. I looked anxious to see if he liked it or not. The swordsman first tasted the rice, then the sautéed vegetables and finally the meat: I was nervous. I could see his jaw stop and his healthy eye open wide, I felt afraid.
"What's wrong? Is there something wrong with the food?"
Zoro was silent for a few seconds, as if searching for the right words to answer me.
"It's... It's very tasty" he said as he looked into my eyes "What's the meat? It's very good."
I smiled, I couldn't be happier.