Zoro has never seen the cook like this.
And he has seen a lot of the cook, even when he loathes to admit it — Sanji was a fascination, and then he became an important nakama, and before he knew it Zoro could no longer take his eyes off of the other man, can’t help goading him, demanding Sanji’s attention. It’s an old song and dance for them, one they both know the steps to by heart, except now the song changes and the tune is unfamiliar to Zoro.
It is all just because of a ship.
A peculiar-looking ship, granted — the shape of it reminds Zoro of a large den-den mushi — but in the grand scheme of things, it is neither the largest nor the weirdest ship Zoro has ever seen. He can probably slice it in half in five or six swings, and he’s sure Sanji could do the same with a couple of well-placed kicks. And yet —
Zoro chances another glance at Sanji through the galley window.
Leaning against the kitchen sink, Sanji looks visibly shaken. There are shadows in his eyes that Zoro doesn’t think he’s ever seen before, and he is hugging himself, like someone has told him repeatedly that he’s taking too much space for existing and there’s nothing he can do but curl into himself until he disappears. Right outside the galley Usopp accidentally drops his kabuto, and Sanji jolts in response, the shock rippling through his body, hands trembling.