[As if Zoro's voice wouldn't find some way to slice through the heavy curtains of Sanji's subconscious. The man's approach probably earned a reflexive twitch, and he only just finishes speaking before Sanji opens an eye and treats the swordsman with a standard "Hello to you too, Shithead." glare. Stop touching him, he can get up by himself--
Or he would, until the chef feels it too - reality sliding backwards to places it shouldn't. He doesn't immediately place the scene - shit, he just woke up and Sanji isn't sure what's happening - but then he sees himself crumple to the ground, and Zoro stand to face Kuma alone.
The scenes playing out in front of them are not ones found in his own memory, but Sanji vividly remembers finding the aftermath; apprehensive knots in his stomach begin to twist and turn into themselves the longer he watches. Droplets of sweat dot his forehead. He doesn't want to look -- but can't look away.
Just... let me decide the location.
Sanji isn't prepared. There is nothing familiar about the pain punching the breath out of his lungs so he can't even scream. It wasn't his to experience. Zoro took that burden on himself. This is his pain. And distantly, Sanji's aware of himself writhing on the ground like there's hot, shattered glass wedged under every part of his skin; the agony stretches on for an eternity.]
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Or he would, until the chef feels it too - reality sliding backwards to places it shouldn't. He doesn't immediately place the scene - shit, he just woke up and Sanji isn't sure what's happening - but then he sees himself crumple to the ground, and Zoro stand to face Kuma alone.
The scenes playing out in front of them are not ones found in his own memory, but Sanji vividly remembers finding the aftermath; apprehensive knots in his stomach begin to twist and turn into themselves the longer he watches. Droplets of sweat dot his forehead. He doesn't want to look -- but can't look away.
Just... let me decide the location.
Sanji isn't prepared. There is nothing familiar about the pain punching the breath out of his lungs so he can't even scream. It wasn't his to experience. Zoro took that burden on himself. This is his pain. And distantly, Sanji's aware of himself writhing on the ground like there's hot, shattered glass wedged under every part of his skin; the agony stretches on for an eternity.]