Week 1 | Saturday

[concasse]

[Where else is a chef going to find solace if not in the kitchen?

He's not even hungry, to be honest, but that doesn't stop him from pacing around and letting his hands distract him -- probably tea or some shit. Maybe a few biscuits on the side. Comfort food he won't take much comfort in.

It'd been a long day, okay?]

Comments

[fragileprophet]

Okay!

[He waits until Sanji's brought out the ingredients before he comes up with his first question.]

How do you cut an onion without crying?

[Truly, one of life's mysteries.]

[concasse]

Breathe through your mouth.

Or you can freeze the onion first, though I don't prefer it.

[SCIENCE TIME: Cooking edition]

When you cut up an onion, it produces a gas that irritates your eyes, so you start crying to get the shit out of it. If you breathe through your mouth, the gases are pulled in there and don't get a chance to burn your eyes.

[fragileprophet]

[!!!! Ion's whole face lights up.]

I didn't know that!

[I mean, obviously, but he's really happy to have learned.]

How old were you when you started cooking?

[That's less of an omelette question and more of just a Sanji question, but he's curious.]

[concasse]

When I was four.

[Looking amused at this energy suddenly being thrown at him. Ion, why so adorable]

Between you and me? Sucked at it. My hand was barely big enough to hold a knife.

[fragileprophet]

[That is really young.]

Did you always know it was what you wanted to do, even then?

[concasse]

Nah, took me a while to figure it out.

[...]

Technically I wasn't allowed to be a chef, so you could say I was going against my family's wishes.

[Ha. Ha. Ha.]

[fragileprophet]

Oh...I see.

[He deflates, just a little--but only because it's sad to hear that he had trouble with his family.]

Did they come around, at least?

[concasse]

[With a bright, amused smile as he begins the process of chopping up the tomatoes and green onions]

Not at all.

[fragileprophet]

Oh, no!

[He frowns. Sanji doesn't look put out, but he feels like he took a misstep and opened a door he maybe shouldn't have. After a pause, he tries to redirect.]

Well...in any case, I'm happy that you were able to pursue something that you're so passionate about. It's nice to see how you smile when you talk about cooking.

[concasse]

[Ion's not wrong to redirect. The sharpness of Sanji's smile abates and turns mild as he continues his work, only pausing to grab a frying pan from a cabinet and set that on the stove.]

Me happy?

[What a way to put it. He hums, as if he means to correct Ion. Eventually:]

I guess. But really, I became one because all people need food to survive, so might as well make it enjoyable for 'em, right?

There's nothing like a good meal to settle the soul, especially when nothing else seems to be going right.

[fragileprophet]

[What a strange way to put it. But Ion tilts his head as he thinks about it, a hand resting over his chin.]

With so many restaurants all over the world...that really must be true.

[He has no idea, honestly, but it's clear that he's thinking it over like it's some kind of a puzzle. See Ion: learning more about humans every day.]

[concasse]

[There's a laugh at that -- Ion's only half right in that regard.]

Don't get me wrong, a restaurant's a business. Like I said, people need to eat, so they gotta ante up the cash for the privilege.

My mentor had a different philosophy going for him, though: he'd feed anyone who needed food, regardless of money or background.

[his voice grows distant as he speaks, wandering through his memories] The sea's a cruel place... you could be rich as a king one day, and then starving the next.

But on the water, in that geezer's opinion, everyone should be equal. A hungry customer's a hungry customer, circumstances be damned.

[fragileprophet]

...that's a beautiful philosophy.

[It brings a soft smile back onto Ion's face.]

The two of you were really close, weren't you?

[concasse]

[Ion's caught in him an... interesting mood. Maybe a soft one. It's the only reason he shares what he does]

Well, bastard raised me, so... he's more like a father than a mentor.

[fragileprophet]

[The admission raises a lot of questions--questions he wouldn't ever ask. What's it like, to have a father, or even a father figure? Do you miss him? Was it hard to go your own way when you met your crew? At what point in your life did you realize just what he meant to you?

None of these are appropriate, and Ion recognizes his curiosity for what it is, shelving all of it.]

Thank you for telling me about him.

[It's good to get to know more about Sanji. Little by little, he's getting a bigger and better picture of the man who's treated him so kindly.]

You've led such a unique life.

[concasse]

"Unique" is a good way to put it.

[Well, sharing and caring time must be over, at least the sappy shit. Sanji pulls it all in as he works through the rest of the vegetables until he has a nice helping of greens and reds. Then all of that goes into the greased pan.]

But I'm assuming the same for you, hm? You're a ... fun master?

[foon? phone? Something.]

[fragileprophet]

[At the mispronunciation, Ion can't help but laugh. Being a Fun Master would be...much better.]

Fon Master, actually. Unique might be a good word for that as well.

[It seems at first he doesn't plan on elaborating as he watches all of the chopped vegetables cooking, but then, after a moment, it comes out quietly, an almost nervous admission:]

Being given that position wasn't my choice.

[concasse]

[Mmm that sure does put an immediate frown on Sanji's face. It sounds like he's gonna have to fight Ion's entire world.]

... You were shoved into it?

[fragileprophet]

[Oh, this is gonna go real well.]

Born into it might be more...

[He frowns, trying to honestly figure out the best way to explain what's true.]

No, I guess that's not really exactly accurate, either. It was written in a prophecy that a boy named Ion would be the Fon Master, and that's what came to pass. Not for me, but for the other Ion that's here with us. I was made after the fact, so it's all I've ever been.

[uno concern]

[concasse]

... You're a clone.

[Just.

Blurting that out.

Sanji




Why did you make such a dead-ringer of an observation?]

[fragileprophet]

[Ion startles, clearly not having expected Sanji to make such an immediate leap. His expression blanches, and he nearly tips over--but grips onto the nearby counter to steady himself. He's had to spell out a lot about himself to most people here, and even then, he's kept certain parts of it to himself when he realized how hard it would be to swallow.]

I...

[It's still so hard to say it in such simple words.]

...yes. I'm the seventh replica that was created of Fon Master Ion. The rest...

[He hates this.]

They were destroyed.

[concasse]

[Let him fuckin guess, they were destroyed because they weren't perfect to the original and thus disposed of because we can't have faulty products on the market!

Fuckin heck.

He has to put down his knife.]

Just in case no one's ever told you this before:

Being a replica does not make you invalid as a person, got it? That's a... a shitty way to be born, being honest, but you were born into this world, for whatever purpose you want. No one gets to take that away from you.

[TURNING BACK TO THE STOVE. GOD HE HAS A HEADACHE.]

[fragileprophet]

[Ion falls into silence. He closes his eyes, leaning forward to rest his head in a hand. It's such a nice thing to hear. It's such a nice thing to think. It feels so fake. He's had to lock this away for what feels like so long, even though it really wasn't all that long ago at all, because it always brings forward so many more questions, so many more wants.

He thinks about Sync. He thinks about his Original. He thinks about Mohs. About Van. He thinks about how it should be so simple, but it isn't. How he's so afraid. How it feels so pointless. How he can't imagine being anyone else other than who he was forced to become, but at the same time wouldn't he love the chance to be anyone else? Anyone else, anything else, as long as it was his own will?

Ion realizes that he hasn't said anything.]

Thank you...it's nice to hear those words. I'm still learning what it means to be me, I suppose, so it's difficult to process. I know it isn't meant to be.

[It seems like it should be the easiest thing in the world.]

[concasse]

Of course it's difficult. That role's the only one you know, ain't it?

[Grabbing the knife. There's no purpose for it, but Sanji needs to feel the weight of it, staring blankly at the frying pan while the vegetables sizzle.]

You've probably have people tell you what you have to do, when, why -- the whole shitty spectacle. Clones are supposed to be a tool first, a person after. Maybe. If they're lucky.

[God, he's so tired.]

That's why I'm telling ya. Because it's... probably gonna take a while before it feels any different.

[fragileprophet]

[He wants to tell Sanji that unfortunately, for him, there isn't the luxury of time. Ion buries the impulse. Things are bad enough.]

How...do you know so much about this?