chapter 17 - imber

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( s / n : demons - joji, slowed and reverb ) > listen for an immersive experience! ^

" BUT YOU,

AGAINST A SKY THAT GROWS MORE COLD;

ARE THE UNMAKING

OF MY ROUTELESS SOUL. "

☞☞☞

[ zoro ]

IN THAT MOMENT, HE FELT LIKE ICARUS. FALLING SPELT DEATH, YET THE AIR TASTES SO SWEET.

A box came for him. It was half of his size and stamped colourfully all over, and he instinctively recognised the neat handwriting by the side.

"What's that?" A sudden whiff of shampoo hit him as a freshly-showered Sanji leaned over the tanned boy to inspect the delivery.

His arm hung lazily on Zoro's shoulders, yet all the tanned boy could feel was hot heat radiating from his roommate's limb to the rest of his body, to the tips of his toes.

"It's probably my family." No, it definitely was. Despite the fact that his father threatened to disown him, they still sent him a package all the same.

Sanji hummed in reply and nudged Zoro impatiently, awaiting in curiosity for what's inside.

The penknife slitted the opening smoothly, and he pulled away the tape and the top.

It was all ramen ingredients; dried handmade noodles, dried seaweed, jars of stock and ornately designed bowls.

"You must really like ramen," Sanji huffed beside his ear in amusement, his chuckles tripping past his words. "-huh, Marimo."

"It's-" Zoro could feel his face burn. "Nothing like that." Scratching his green-haired head, he sighed and closed the box.

"My family owns a chain of ramen shops in Japan. They probably sent me this so I won't get homesick or something."

"They must really care about you." Sanji commented, glancing sideways to the tanned boy as he rubbed his blond hair with a towel.

"Not really." Zoro shrugged, sealing the box back. "All they care about is my inheritance of the family business. They threatened to disown me when I refused and came to study art."

Sanji nodded as he listened, and continued to dry his blond strands.

"So what are you going to do with it?" Sanji jerked his head to the box. "Are you really going to throw it away?"

The tanned boy shrugged. "Maybe. I'll ask around if anyone wants it."

"Then can I keep it?" Sanji asked with a grin, his blue eyes shining. "If you don't mind, that is."

What's this monster in my chest, Zoro thought to himself as he said sure, he wouldn't mind.

He wouldn't mind at all.

"You're alright with eating it for dinner tonight?" The blond boy asked as he took the package to the kitchen. "I've always wanted to cook ramen."

"And you can be my expert taster, since you probably grew up eating ramen." Zoro heard the blond continue from the kitchen, hearing the thud of the box on the counter. "You're okay with that, right?"

"Sure." Zoro repeated, savouring the worry in his blond roommate's voice. The worry stemmed from consideration. And consideration meant he cared.

~

The ramen looked different from the ones he ate over the years, though it was made with exact same ingredients.

It might be his own delusion, but it tasted more delicious than the guilt he was served over the years.

The food that he shoved down his throat, made by the wondrous boy sitting opposite of him, tasted like a new home.

And he could get used to that.

"How does it taste like?" Sanji's sky-blue eyes sparkled in anticipation, as he leaned closer to the tanned boy, waiting for his answer.

"Good." The tanned boy muttered as heat travelled through his skin even hotter than the soup set in front of him. "Really good."

The blond smirked in satisfaction at his response as he stood up and prepared a bowl for himself.

"Glad that you like it." Sanji set the steaming bowl on the table as he joined the tanned boy.

"What about you?" The tanned boy asked in curiosity and in an attempt for conversation.

"What about me?" Sanji chuckled as he blew at his noodles.

"Your family. You've never mentioned them."

If the tanned boy wasn't someone who had memorised the contours of his roommate's features, he wouldn't have notice the subtle dip in his roommate's grin.

But he was. And he did.

"They're dead." Sanji said with an air of nonchalance.

Zoro's spoon stopped midway from the bowl to his mouth as his throat dried.

"I'm sorry." The regret filled every crevice in him. Goddamn, he laughed at himself. You're a fucking genius, Zoro. Of all the things you could've brought up-

"It's alright." Sanji looked up from his spoon.

"I barely remember anything anyways."

The lie was so transparent it stabbed Zoro a second time.

"Still, I was being insensitive. I'm sorry." He apologised with everything in him. He was beating himself up from the inside of his white ribs with the muscle the size of his fist.

Sanji cracked a smile. A genuine one that made him momentarily forget he wasn't in heaven.

"What are you so worked up about, silly Marimo." The blond played a little with his food before popping the noodles in his mouth. "It's not like you had known it before. It wasn't intentional."

"You don't have to apologise."

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