His mask

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It was a normal day in the thousand sunny, Zoro was asleep as usual and Sanji was trying his best to cook. The reason Sanji was struggling was because he didn't have enough food for everyone, so someone had to miss out dinner. And he decided straight away that certain someone was going to be him. He looked away from the stove and covered his nose as he sneezed. He had recently caught a cold but didn't tell anyone, he didn't want to seem weak. Everyone else was fine, but Sanji was hiding a little secret ever since he joined. He didn't want to tell anyone about it. During the two years of training, he had become more secretive of that secret that grew bigger and worse. He placed all of the nine plates down, he paused when he was about to place the ninth. He put it away knowing he wasn't going to eat. He placed the food on each plate and set out eight glasses before placing a bottle of wine next to a plate for a certain person, he filled the others with water. He sighed before finishing off what was to be done. He walked out feeling emptier that usual. Yes. He was depressed, he never took off his coat/suit to reveal his wrists, they were filled with blood stains and cuts, he hated himself, he found himself useless and weak. He hadn't ate for three weeks starving himself when there was enough food, he faked smiles and laughter. He had his mask. It was useful for him, he was saving up tears for a better one. He always wore long sleeves even on the hottest days, no one seemed to notice, no one asked or became suspicious. No one ever noticed that he barely ate, no one saw through his mask. No one cared. The only thing in his mind was how useless, ugly, horrid, awful, powerless and weak he was. He hates to think about it, he had flashbacks from when he was younger of how his siblings would make fun of him and push him around. He just wanted to die knowing no one would care anyway.

"Dinner is ready!" He called out faking a smile.

"Yeah! Foods ready! Yay! My favorite time of the day!" Luffy called out.

"ROBIN-CHAN! NAMI-SAN! Come to dinner~!" He called out faking actions as usuall. Everyone went in. There was an empty seat. One where Sanji was meant to sit, but there was another one opposite him. Zoro's plate stood there. He sighed walking out. He searched for the swordsman, he found him sleeping on the grass as usual.
"Oi. Mosshead, wake up, go eat," he kicked his side. Zoro shot his eyes open and stood up before walking towards the kitchen. He stopped half way through.

"I'm not hungry." He mumbled quietly.

"Well you need to eat. You haven't ate today,"

"Tch, whatever curly brow," he walked off scoffing to himself.

Sanji walked away into his room, he didn't sleep in the boys dorm anymore. He asked Franky to make him a room. He told him not to ask why, so he didn't ask. He shut his door before sliding down onto the cold floor, he sneezed again, before he uncontrollably began coughing. He began coughing blood. As soon as he stopped he was panting and sweating. He rubbed his eyes from the tears that were sliding down. He heard the crew come out of the kitchen.

"Need to wash now..." he told himself before taking a napkin from his pocket and whipping the blood away from the floor and from his mouth. He threw the bloody napkin away and exited, keeping his head down low, he walked to the kitchen, it was empty as usual. He didn't notice the swordsman eyes following him until the blond entered the kitchen. Zoro stood up from the green grass and followed Sanji. He looked through the window. He followed Sanji's movements as he washed the dishes, his eyes widen when Sanji was placing a dish, his sleeve rose a little revealing cuts and bruises on his wrists, Sanji quickly covered his wrist pulling his sleeve lower and lower. Zoro frowned. He decided to enter.

"Hey cook,"

"What is it? Mosshead? Got lost on the ship?" He smirked.

"No, can I see your wrist?"

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