[as though Akira is going to let Sanji weasel out of this so easily]
It does.
[folding his arms now, brows raised]
I see what you're trying to do, too. In a place like this, it's easier to hold everyone at an arm's length away. Otherwise, when the people we care about die, it hurts.
[and he doesn't blame anyone for trying to run away from pain]
But don't you think having to go through this alone is even worse?
[... If Akira had left it at the first sentence, Sanji would have bristled too.
Because nothing pisses him off like someone selling him a happy fairy tale he can't bank on, even if he and everyone else are gunning for the same thing. His expression coils, flashing with irritation-- but then it cools into bemusement, perhaps even a touch of uncertainty when the other keeps talking]
Oi. Everyone's working just as hard. I just got lucky and was saddled a role, is all.
[This isn't cooking. This isn't a passion. He's working hard because it's expected of him, because there's no one else, and he can't let...
He can't let anyone lose save himself.
A pause, and then Sanji runs a hand through his hair, sighing]
Listen, I'm not saying abandon my ass if it's better to save it. Just... don't beat yourself up trying to twist me up in a miracle, too. You don't gotta.
[and that's where they differ. Akira isn't doing this just because he was given the responsibility. he's doing it because he truly believes in what he's pursing. for him. . .?]
[it is a passion. just. . . a different kind]
I'm going to, whether you want me to or not.
[there's a fire that burns in his eyes as he says that, too. no matter how exhausted or tired or guilty or resigned he may feel, it will never go out]
[It's a dismissive noise, delivered with the vaguest of irritation now, and Sanji abruptly digs into his suit pocket for his cigarettes. Something to sooth his soul so he doesn't have to keep looking Akira in the eye... because:]
Stubborn shit... just like my captain.
[Luffy, who refused to give up on Sanji, who hounded and followed him halfway across the goddamn sea even when his chef begged him to leave him be, and demanded to hear from Sanji's own mouth what it was that he truly wanted.]
[that brief moment-- that moment of quiet wistfulness-- doesn't go unnoticed. but Akira won't press into it for now. some things should be kept to oneself, like a secret shared between two friends that Akira isn't privy to]
Hah. [almost defiant, the corners of his lips twitching upwards] There isn't anything you could've said that would have stopped me.
And I wouldn't ever want you to go easy on me in the first place.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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It does.
[folding his arms now, brows raised]
I see what you're trying to do, too. In a place like this, it's easier to hold everyone at an arm's length away. Otherwise, when the people we care about die, it hurts.
[and he doesn't blame anyone for trying to run away from pain]
But don't you think having to go through this alone is even worse?
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I just want to win, Akira.
[Spoken with... perhaps more honesty than he's ever used before, and his eyes are clear and frank as he finally glances up, staring at the other]
It doesn't matter to me if I get left behind or not.
[He made a good Editor -- because hell wasn't so ugly a place that Sanji tried to weasel out of becoming the devil for everyone else's sake.]
no subject
[oh]
[. . . it's funny, how that simple sentence sends Akira's hackles bristling. not because he's mad at Sanji-- far from it-- but because--]
You're not going to be left behind.
[he says that so firmly, so powerfully, in a tone that makes it clear he won't accept any arguments to the contrary]
Nobody will, but especially not someone who has been doing his damnedest to figure this place out.
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Because nothing pisses him off like someone selling him a happy fairy tale he can't bank on, even if he and everyone else are gunning for the same thing. His expression coils, flashing with irritation-- but then it cools into bemusement, perhaps even a touch of uncertainty when the other keeps talking]
Oi. Everyone's working just as hard. I just got lucky and was saddled a role, is all.
[This isn't cooking. This isn't a passion. He's working hard because it's expected of him, because there's no one else, and he can't let...
He can't let anyone lose save himself.
A pause, and then Sanji runs a hand through his hair, sighing]
Listen, I'm not saying abandon my ass if it's better to save it. Just... don't beat yourself up trying to twist me up in a miracle, too. You don't gotta.
no subject
[and that's where they differ. Akira isn't doing this just because he was given the responsibility. he's doing it because he truly believes in what he's pursing. for him. . .?]
[it is a passion. just. . . a different kind]
I'm going to, whether you want me to or not.
[there's a fire that burns in his eyes as he says that, too. no matter how exhausted or tired or guilty or resigned he may feel, it will never go out]
1/3
Tch.
[It's a dismissive noise, delivered with the vaguest of irritation now, and Sanji abruptly digs into his suit pocket for his cigarettes. Something to sooth his soul so he doesn't have to keep looking Akira in the eye... because:]
Stubborn shit... just like my captain.
[Luffy, who refused to give up on Sanji, who hounded and followed him halfway across the goddamn sea even when his chef begged him to leave him be, and demanded to hear from Sanji's own mouth what it was that he truly wanted.]
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He misses his crew.
He misses when the loneliness wasn't quite so crushing]
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-- Godddamni-- fine. Fine.
[Grumpily turning away and folding his arms]
Do what you want. I won't stop you, you bratty pain in my ass. Just don't expect me to go easy on you, ever.
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Hah. [almost defiant, the corners of his lips twitching upwards] There isn't anything you could've said that would have stopped me.
And I wouldn't ever want you to go easy on me in the first place.