[Apparently it's not so insane that Sanji will deny it. Does he even know how to make it? Well, either he can, or he's confident enough to take a stab based off the knowledge he already has]
[Quickly turning away so he can think how he wants to handle everything, but in the end, he does what he always does: focuses on the food, on perfecting it, on making sure it's as good a meal as Ogata will ever have... just in case tomorrow turns ugly.
And when he returns, it's with a bowl of this, still steaming hot]
[He perks up again as soon as Sanji comes back in, sniffing the air, like a cat. Nya. He'll take it and dig in, eagerly. His attention is entirely focused on it for the next minute or so, so apparently, it's acceptable.
About halfway done, he pauses, and closes his eyes.]
You heard what I said, didn't you? [About, you know.]
I was never supposed to be born. It'd be strange if it wasn't.
[Continuing to eat, a bit slower.] This was my father's favorite. I loved it too. But when the fish was in season, mother would make it every day. She thought my father would come back to eat it.
That's why I taught myself how to shoot. I thought if I brought home wild game, she'd cook something else. [He doesn't say anything else, but it seems safe to assume that didn't work.]
In the hopes your shitty old man would come back to her funeral.
[And that Sanji can't even be angry, or disgusted by such an act... well. Ogata was a child, for one, and likely desperate. And if anything, he's the one who paid the price by deciding it was okay if he was left behind.]
But looking back, I also don't think the way she was then... I don't think it was any way to live. And I never wanted to end up like that. [One of the many, many reasons he's so distant with people, probably.]
[With that same, unrelenting bluntness that is just his way]
And I think your mouth got you in trouble. But I'm an asshole too. And so are half the shits here.
[...]
And more importantly, you weren't our murderer. We fucked up big time, so the least we can do is let you have your moment of anger if you want it. Like damn, I'm more impressed you haven't thrown a punch.
[Yeah, that throws him off for a moment, the yelling.]
... Like I said. I did try to see if I could force my father to notice me. It didn't work. [There's a lot of problems with this being his response to that question.]
I don't have anywhere else to go other than home. And when I do, Immortal Sugimoto is going to catch up to me within five minutes and presumably remove my head from my body or something equally violent.
[Smiles! Maybe this has something to do with why he's so unconcerned about dying.]
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Done.
[Apparently it's not so insane that Sanji will deny it. Does he even know how to make it? Well, either he can, or he's confident enough to take a stab based off the knowledge he already has]
Huh... that's one hell of a comfort food.
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When my mother was alive, she'd cook it all the time. I suppose I'm still attached to it.
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Aa. [A beat]
Mine might not taste like hers. You still fine with it?
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[Man if Sanji overheard Ogata spilling all his spaghetti this definitely hits different huh.]
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FEELINGS
A LOT OF FEELINGS]
... I'll be back then.
[Quickly turning away so he can think how he wants to handle everything, but in the end, he does what he always does: focuses on the food, on perfecting it, on making sure it's as good a meal as Ogata will ever have... just in case tomorrow turns ugly.
And when he returns, it's with a bowl of this, still steaming hot]
... Here.
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About halfway done, he pauses, and closes his eyes.]
You heard what I said, didn't you?
[About, you know.]
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[Something he was going to keep to himself, but if Ogata's gonna be the one to bring it to the table, Sanji has no right to stop him.]
Your life's a real shit show.
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[Continuing to eat, a bit slower.]
This was my father's favorite. I loved it too. But when the fish was in season, mother would make it every day. She thought my father would come back to eat it.
That's why I taught myself how to shoot. I thought if I brought home wild game, she'd cook something else.
[He doesn't say anything else, but it seems safe to assume that didn't work.]
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In the hopes your shitty old man would come back to her funeral.
[And that Sanji can't even be angry, or disgusted by such an act... well. Ogata was a child, for one, and likely desperate. And if anything, he's the one who paid the price by deciding it was okay if he was left behind.]
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[Eating more.]
But looking back, I also don't think the way she was then... I don't think it was any way to live. And I never wanted to end up like that.
[One of the many, many reasons he's so distant with people, probably.]
I expected more of you to be mad at me.
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[With that same, unrelenting bluntness that is just his way]
And I think your mouth got you in trouble. But I'm an asshole too. And so are half the shits here.
[...]
And more importantly, you weren't our murderer. We fucked up big time, so the least we can do is let you have your moment of anger if you want it. Like damn, I'm more impressed you haven't thrown a punch.
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[He's more of a "bide your time and then shoot a man in the head from so far away" sort of guy.]
But I'm not mad, so I wouldn't be punching anyone anyway.
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[His expression is... mm. Sanji doesn't know how to feel about this.]
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[Smiles!!! Even though he just said so much wild shit.]
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[Oh dear.
Sanji's mad now]
Oi now, before you go saying shit like that -- have you even tried to grasp happiness? Or are you always settling for what life hands you?
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... Like I said. I did try to see if I could force my father to notice me. It didn't work.
[There's a lot of problems with this being his response to that question.]
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[With complete sincerity]
Fuck your embarrassment of a dad. I hope he's rotting in hell.
[ANYWAY]
I'm talking about doing shit that doesn't revolve around his attention. Striking out and being your own person. Y'know... shit like that...
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... I don't know if I can. I'm missing something important, being born the way I was, I think.
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[...]
Are you going back to your world once this shit is over? Or are you heading somewhere else?
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[Smiles! Maybe this has something to do with why he's so unconcerned about dying.]
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... Why?
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Are you sure you should be setting a strange man you barely know loose on your world?
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[With an abrupt laugh]
I told you I was a pirate, wasn't I? No matter what path you decided to take, the world would accept you.
[...]
And you'd find people to accept you, too. I got lucky, after all.
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