your eyes look like coming home
Two years gone but the ground in Sabaody felt the same. Though perhaps it was the only part of the whole situation that remained unchanged. In the time passed, Sanji knew how he had grown stronger, knew that he would not just be strong enough to take on a Pacifista, but to help his captain emerge victorious in the New World.
And then there was the other sort of growth, the kind that no development of his Diable Jambe could prove. The two years at Kamabakka had not been at all in line with Sanji’s expectations. The residents were abrasive, but at the same time they had a kind of freedom and openness that the cook envied. To live proud of who you are? That was not something Sanji had ever thought he could be, the image of Judge looming and ever-present. Yet in Kamabakka they were the opposite. They accepted Sanji when he was pissed off in a sharply dressed suit or when he was pissed off in a dress. They accepted him for his feelings for Zoro, discovering one drunken night as they flirted with him, only for Sanji to reveal that his feelings were laid elsewhere. And in two years, Sanji began to believe and accept himself for that.
Still, his heart pounded as he made his way towards where the man had told him Zoro would be. Knowing that idiot, he would have already wandered off by now, but it was the best lead he had for the time being. The last thing he expected was the sight in front of him.
If Zoro had been good-looking before the two years apart, he was now undeniably handsome. The muscles that were tough but thinner before had filled out into a mass of man. The new scar over his eye added an aura of danger that drew Sanji in closer. It also helped that his well sculpted abs were on full display, and soaking wet from the drowned ship he had sliced open.
Before his mind could wander further, the swordsman spoke, “I got on the wrong ship,” and Sanji flew into his frustration and anger once more. Of course the mosshead would get lost and end up on the wrong ship, he should have expected as much. Though it was frustrating in it's own way, there was also something endearing about it.
As the pair found their way back to the center of Sabaody, with frequent stops to pull Zoro from going in the wrong direction once more, Sanji found himself enjoying this conversation more than he had any others over the past two years. They still bickered, called each other names, and tried to anger each other, but there was no real venom to it.
It felt more like they were both speaking in an alternate language, one of insults and nicknames, each one asking “Are you ok?” and “How were things?” It was a language only the two of them spoke, a comforting closeness that left the others around them befuddled. But to Sanji, it was clear as day. He was fluent in Zoro even now, after two years gone.
i'm feeling like i've missed you all this time