𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 - zosan [rewriting]

𓋼𓍊 chapter one: the fallen man

chapter 01: the fallen man

Warmth traveled through the cook's hands as the scrubby fellow on the other side of the line spoke hesitantly. His voice, which usually overflowed with joy and silly gossip cut low into a rasp, and mumbles rolled from his tongue. He spoke hesitantly, with slight remarks of the cook's absence, and his eyes darted around the freshly scented room as he nervously repositioned the tight red tie at his Adam's apple.

It wasn't common for the guy to snail his former co-worker, especially during his training. It was unlike the guy to even socialize with the cook, as their old conversations barely lasted even a few minutes and resulted in pools of blood dripping from pristine Baratie tables.

Even so, the guy had decided to speak with him, stripped from the intention to gossip or quarrel. He was sure that adding in a few jokes and chuckles through the silent call would simmer down the tension, or even bring about a new friendship. But when the cook on the other side of the snail continued to hold silent, the fellow realized his mistake.

The cook stiffened in the shoulders, biting heavily into the scab hovering his lip. His grip on the poor snail tightened, and his vision blurred into swirls of sweet roses and a golden yellow. His stomach churned from the inside out, to such an extent he felt his knees cave into the ground--a tear meeting the flowing grass beneath him.

"What are you..you suddenly telling me..?" Sanji sniffled nearly incoherently, rubbing the wet creeping his cheek with the back of his hand. The fellow on the other side of the line could hear the strain in the blond's voice. It was a foreign sound, nothing he had ever heard before, and he didn't enjoy it. 

He had wished to hear a sound as such in the past, feasting on the beauty of it the moment the cook had left to start his adventure. He longed for a chance to taste it again, a victorious rivalry--waiting for the day he'd be blessed again. Had he known it would come to him this way, he would have never wished for such a thing. The cook was not only a rival due to their lingering beef, but also because over the years he had grown to respect the man.

He tapped his feet underneath the cloth table, and nodded to a mourning co-worker as they passed to clean. What could one say to the child of the topic? Was there perhaps anything he could say.. to maybe offer the news politely? The fellow's vision trailed towards the ceiling above and he sighed in response.

"Where's the damn geezer?!" Sanji howled, bawling his bandaged fists. "Where's... m..my old man...?!"

His voice echoed throughout the cherry field, finding its way towards the ears of his worried trainers.

Sanji hiccuped, holding his hand by his side and the snail to his chin. He waited for the guy to respond, his eyes darting to a trail of insects as they crawled between an emerging set of dandelions.

A static swishing sound shot through the snail and in that same raspy voice, unamused enough to perk a lighthearted joke, the fellow responded.

"He's gone."

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