[... Is it sad, that in the wake of Kotetsu's blurted confession and departure, the first thought to pervade the stunned chef's mind is not even how much of an asshole he can sometimes be, but that at least Kotetsu was spared from killing someone he knew?
Heh. But no, he really is a asshole. His chest tightens, and it earns a low cuss under his breath, a fist slamming against the counter. One day he'll respond with a little more finesse when dealing with stubborn jackasses, one day... probably the same day Kotetsu finally learns to talk about his shitty problems. Because that will ever happen.
There's a near smirk at that, but the black humor doesn't reach his face. Deep lines of disquiet etch themselves into his expression. He realizes he's barely given a thought to the actual news Kotetsu was guarding. Nami-san almost died, huh? That should scare him a lot more than it does; instead, Sanji studies it blankly, turning it over in his head. His navigator had plenty of near-misses on that draft, it seems.
Funny, though; she didn't tell him about this one. Then again, maybe he should be glad for that. And she lived. Nearly broke under the pressure, he wonders, but she lived. She always lives.
Eventually, his hands find work for bits of his mind to focus on. He doesn't go after Kotetsu. The damage has been done, even if he knows what he wants to say now - but he'll wait this time, for the man to show up]
action;
Heh. But no, he really is a asshole. His chest tightens, and it earns a low cuss under his breath, a fist slamming against the counter. One day he'll respond with a little more finesse when dealing with stubborn jackasses, one day... probably the same day Kotetsu finally learns to talk about his shitty problems. Because that will ever happen.
There's a near smirk at that, but the black humor doesn't reach his face. Deep lines of disquiet etch themselves into his expression. He realizes he's barely given a thought to the actual news Kotetsu was guarding. Nami-san almost died, huh? That should scare him a lot more than it does; instead, Sanji studies it blankly, turning it over in his head. His navigator had plenty of near-misses on that draft, it seems.
Funny, though; she didn't tell him about this one. Then again, maybe he should be glad for that. And she lived. Nearly broke under the pressure, he wonders, but she lived. She always lives.
Eventually, his hands find work for bits of his mind to focus on. He doesn't go after Kotetsu. The damage has been done, even if he knows what he wants to say now - but he'll wait this time, for the man to show up]