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“Please let me out, dad.”
The tears dropping from his eyes were big and blurred his vision.
“I’m sorry…I’m sorry that I was born weak!”
He cried loudly and ugly, his cheeks burning from the friction of wet skin on metal.
“Dad!”, he screamed in misery, but no one was listening. No one was listening. He was alone.-
An insight on how Luffy and the strawhats are exactly what Sanji needed after his childhood.
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Sanji never escaped germa and made up the straw hats
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IM SMITING THE AUTHOR OG MY GOODD WHAT THE HELL
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Ch1
Additional Tags: Character StudyMental AnguishIsolationStarvationAnimal AbuseAnimal DeathChild AbuseHallucinationsPanic Attacksa little deep dive into the consequences of isolationSanji might be schizophrenic in this oneSuicidal Thoughtsslight frobin Put me to sleep, Sandman fedyth Summary: “Please let me out, dad.” The tears dropping from his eyes were big and blurred his vision. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry that I was born weak!” He cried loudly and ugly, his cheeks burning from the friction of wet skin on metal. “Dad!”, he screamed in misery, but no one was listening. No one was listening. He was alone. - An insight on how Luffy and the strawhats are exactly what Sanji needed after his childhood. - He counted 99 hits to the head. He could not do 100, because his body gave out and he fainted, falling to the cold ground and hitting his head one last time. - One other reason was that he could keep up with him. Zoro won one fight, Sanji the other. He would be on the ground, one sword to his throat and then Zoro would smile and offer him his hand to help him to his feet. He would joke around, tell him how he was one win ahead. He never tortured him, laughed at his face and told him how weak he was. What a failure he was. - His body was covered in bruises and swellings, his skin discolored in an unnatural way. "How did you get these?" How did he get these? He didn’t know for sure. "I think in our last fight with the Navy." The reindeer looked at him, stared him down with those big eyes of his. Oh, I thought it was from your… - “Did you say something, Chopper?” “No”, he shook his head and put his little hoof on the blond's forehead, “Are you really sure you’re okay? You haven’t been this hurt in a long time.” Sanji brushed the hoof away and nodded, “I'm fine.” - “I have a hat too. Mine’s prettier though.” - “Hmm, I’ve decided I don’t like your hat.” “Me neither.” He answered roughly, his throat suddenly sore and dry. “Yours doesn’t look comfortable at all. Can you even see through it?” It was hard, but he didn’t have a lot to see anyway. He knew exactly what was before him. Walls, metal poles, a toilet and a mattress. “Does yours ever feel heavy on your head?”, he asked, not really looking for an answer, but needing to say something. “Not really”, Luffy changed his lying position and sat with his legs crossed in front of him, his eyes now on the same height as Sanji’s, “I guess the promise is heavy. Someone really important gave it to me.” “Who gave it to you, Sanji?” Sanji felt his body grow cold. The dreaded question and the even more dreaded answer. He didn’t like to think about this, the truth hurting more than he could ever admit. “My father.” “Do you like him?” “He’s my father. I have to like him.” “But do you?” “I-” - “Do you?”, Luffy repeated. “I don’t know.” But deep down, a part of him screamed for justice. Screamed and begged to be freed. But what could justice do when his father was the judge? -“Are you hungry Sanji?” “Thank you so much for your concern Robin, but I’m fine.” There was no reason for her to worry. He didn’t want to burden her, so he lied. Robin tilted her head in disbelief. “Do you want us to cook you something?” He looked up to her, his eyes scanning her face only to find a fond look in her eyes. “I would like that very much”, he whispered, the words almost inaudible. “We will cook you the most super meal”, Franky shouted and posed as he always did, forearms touching and feet apart. “Which will be spaghetti with tomato sauce. Sorry Sanji-bro but my culinary skills don’t exceed that. But I was told it tastes amazing. Amazingly super if you will.” Sanji had to laugh at the silliness of his friend, his hands in front of his face to hide his smile. - “Thank you Luffy. Thank you so much.” They made a fire that night. Sanji grilled them some meat, fish and vegetables and they sat around the fire, laughing together, enjoying the miracle sea surrounding them. They all looked at him, their smiles bright and big. So happy to be here with him and to experience him fulfilling his dream. He locked eyes with Luffy whose smile changed from joyful to calming. He came up to him and kneeled down so he could look him in the eyes. He ruffled his blonde hair, put his straw hat on the little child's head and gave him one of his sunny smiles. “You can rest now, Sanji.” - That night his brothers found him dead. His skin ice cold and his eyes so clear. They had felt a wetness on their cheeks and a tightness in their chest. They couldn’t explain why. Notes: this was born from a thought I had "Luffy loves Sanji so much, he probably thinks he's a dream sometimes" I straightened up, "What if I make him one?"
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Wey voy a llorar por el simbolismo de toda esta historia nooooooo. Está muy triste, final triste. Sanji muere.
Bueno, leí la historia y por lo que entendí o como a mí me gustaría interpretarla es que si, Sanji jamás escapó de su celda, el de quedó como un niño y murió ahí, soñando con grandes aventuras con los Mugiwara, donde lo amaron, aprendió a cocinar y encontró el all Blue.
Me lo imagino como, Luffy y la tripulación siendo sus guías para encontrar la luz, el All Blue el cielo y pues todo de una forma tan metafórica y los deseos de Sanji vueltos realidad en su ilusión por encontrar esa calidez.
La historia pues si nos retrata la relación de Sanji con los Mugiwara, lo vemos en sus aventuras y como intenta perseguir su sueños. Vemos pequeños flashbacks de su vida en la celda y luego, todo tiene sentido al final.
Encuentran el All Blue y Luffy por fin le dice a Sanji que puede descansar en paz.
Sanji murio de niño en esa oscura y fría celda, con el hambre calando sus huesos y la desilusión de que jamás fue amado.