Week 2, Saturday Post-Trial - Sanji

[fragileprophet]

[For the most part, Ion's spending his evening sequestered in his lonely, partner-less room. But if Sanji goes to look for him, he won't have to search far. He'll catch a glimpse of the boy in the kitchen, searching through the cupboards with an obvious sense of purpose.]

Comments

[concasse]

We're gonna start with a yogurt base. I don't know if Sandalphon cares for sweets, so let's leave it plain.

[honestly, Sanji's more like a drill sergeant than a chef suddenly, his orders quick and no nonsense as he lays out the necessary ingredients.]

See this glass? [he's pulled out two narrow parfait glasses] Add enough yogurt until you've got about a half inch. Then we're gonna layer the fruit in.

[Strawberries, peaches, and blueberries are what's on hand.]

You ever used a knife?

[fragileprophet]

[It's fine. Orders, he can deal with. It's easy to slip into the mentality of the student, and he's careful not to miss anything.]

No, I haven't.

[But he's damn ready to learn. He's not going to mess this up.]

[concasse]

[... Pausing a little.

... Then quite simply pulling a kitchen knife from out of his jacket.

He hands it handle-first to Ion.]

Take it slow. And make sure you curl your fingers in so they don't get cut.

[He'll demonstrate on the counter so Ion has an idea of what he means (and given the peaches have pits in them, elects to cut that in half before sliding over the two large halves]

[fragileprophet]

[It's hard to go slow with this amount of nervous energy--and he has trouble positioning his fingers correctly, both because they're stiff from his injuries and just because handling food and knives is so foreign to him. They slip a few times, but it doesn't frustrate him. He keeps going, clumsy slice after clumsy slice, in silence until he finishes his task.]

Alright. And now?

[concasse]

[Ion is only in charge of Sandalphon's parfait. Standing next to him, Sanji completes his own steps on Ion's dessert, and takes up the slices Ion had just cut up.]

Into the glass. The bottom layers don't need to be perfect, just add enough fruit to make it clear we're making layers.

[And again, Sanji will demonstrate, being more haphazard than he'd normally be, so Ion will get the picture.]

Then after that, another layer of yogurt, then a granola crumble.

[fragileprophet]

[It's definitely not hard--but as the first dish he's ever prepared effectively by himself, it feels like more than that. Or maybe a part of it is just what the dish means. But Ion continues to follow the instructions, creating all the layers, and finally takes a step back to look at it.

It's uneven and childish, but it will have to do. Ion feel a knot form in his throat, and isn't really sure where it came from.]

...thank you.

[If only he could savor this small spark of accomplishment.]

[concasse]

[... It's the hardest part about this.

Knowing that he can't save Ion from his heartache.

The best Sanji could ever do was to distract him, give him a task to accomplish and a way to have one more shared memory with his partner before the end. And so for a moment he turns away, closes his eyes, berates himself for not having more to offer. In the end, this is the limits of his abilities.]

... I just showed you the steps. You made this yourself.

[Finally turning to Ion, a soft smile on his face]

I don't know what kind of life Sandalphon's lived, but he doesn't know the strength of compassion when it's offered to him. But you've still got tonight, alright?

[A beat, and he places a hand on Ion's shoulder]

Show him how much you care. That's what homemade food is all about.

[fragileprophet]

Yes.

[ion smiles, encouraged, but even as his face lights up at Sanji’s words, tears stream out of his eyes. He doesn’t seem to notice.]

I’ll show him my true feelings—so he won’t have to feel so alone anymore!

[Because he knows...he knows just what kind of life Sandalphon has had. How similar their hearts are. How full of pain. He doesn’t deserve that misery.]

this was a deliberate strike against my life

[concasse]

[...]

Yeah.

[Still smiling like everything's fine, Sanji tugs Ion close, wrapping his arms around the boy's shoulders]

I know you can do it.

SAME THOUGH

[fragileprophet]

[Everything is supposed to be okay right now. But the illusion shatters as Sanji holds him, and Ion instinctively grasps onto his front, his small hands holding on fiercely as he sobs and shakes, hiding his face.

I’m so scared.

Please, help.

I’m not okay with any of these things.

But it isn’t fair to let these thoughts out of their cage, so he holds them staunchly inside.

In just a moment, he’ll be Fon Master Ion once more.]

[concasse]

[As if he can't hear a child's pleas through a hug.

And his heart breaks behind his ribs because of it, Sanji forced to remain silent as Ion cries out his fears and frustrations. He tucks his chin over the other's hair and just. stares out for a while, noting the tears on his own face and doing nothing to wipe them.

Zeff always told him men don't cry. It's one of the things they always disagreed on.

Only when Ion's tears seem to start receding does Sanji pat him on the back, once. Twice.]

Oi, c'mon.

He's waiting for ya.

[fragileprophet]

Right.

[Ion takes a deep breath. His fingers loosen their hold. He wipes his face. And taking a step back again, he's smiling. It's an exhausted, resigned sort of thing--his mask of composure having slipped so far, but it's the best he can manage in the moment, with his cheeks so red and his eyes puffy.]

I'll bring him the coffee first, while it's still hot.

[He only has so many hands, after all. He plans on spending the rest of the night down there, so there's time.]

Thank you, again. I hope I can learn something else another time, too!

[It's a much nicer way of saying he hopes that he'll be alive after tomorrow to have the chance.]