They'd evaded the draconian nurses and night watchmen; Operation Eggplant (so codenamed just to annoy the brat) was a go.

Dr Kureha pounded some more monkshood beneath the pestle. "The name of a rabbit disease that infects humans. Causes ulcerations-"

Sanji laughed, a short, raspy bark of amusement. "Come on, geezer, you know guys like me and the marimo-head don't see a ripe old age. We live well, grab our dreams, hold tight and die hard at the age of thirty-five. Forty if we're lucky."

Zeff grinned when he saw Zoro pawing at the noose around his neck. "The dress-code's the downside of working in the service industry, kid."

Zoro and his sensei (I don't know if we ever learn the man's name...). Kuina's father and his apparent non-reaction to his daugther's death intrigued me. And since I read too much 'Lone Wolf and Cub', 'Vagabond' etc., this drabble happened.

Like the previous drabble, it's situated two weeks after a defining event in one of the crew's life.

(563): Maybe he's one of those feminine men who fucks like a god then makes you fantastic crepes afterwards.

Break all the bones you want, he wishes he could say, if he could speak without giving into the urge to scream. He hopes his expression is venomous enough to get the point across anyway, to this stupid man who thinks any Straw Hat Pirate would betray their infamous captain.

Nami's nakama were certifiable. Loony-bin material, every last one of them.

When it comes to Pudding, Sanji is happy to be in the palm of her hand. (Or not, as is more often the case.)

Every step Sanji took, he wanted to die. Every step he took, gods, he felt alive. It was strange, odd, uncomfortable, glorious, his mate's arm around his shoulders, all burly muscle, tucking Sanji under impressive biceps and up against just-as-impressive obliques. You'd think Zoro was an alpha to look at him on a normal day. Broad, head high as always - could he have walked any other way if he tried? - dripping confidence, exuding well-earned ego. And his lover, Sanji, so much narrower, several inches shorter with their carefully chosen shoes, head a little ducked as he smoked through a slim little black filter. "I think I'm gonna have a fucking heart attack." "Good thing I'm here to give you mouth to mouth, cutie."