Warning! SPOILERS from Whole Cake Island!
Trigger warning! contains flashbacks, bullying, implied self-harm

Originally posted in Drabbles and One-Shots as a music inspired "starter-chapter", or one-shot, I wasn't sure what I wanted it to be then. I also felt it was too unfinished and would need more work to be posted as it's own story. (I have insane standards when it comes to my own writing fyi). But I feel it's, good enough, now. At least I hope.

As always:
Disclaimer: I do NOT own One Piece, I only like to borrow characters and plotlines from Oda, and I am not making money from writing this.

Mirrors

A young boy sat curled up in the corner of his bed when a shout from an old man came from downstairs.

"Sanji!"

The boy flinched slightly, not because the shout had startled him, or because he was afraid of the old man, but because of that name, his name. He knew the old man didn't know how painful it was for him to hear it; after all, he had never told Zeff about it. He'd sworn to himself and to -him- to never talk about it to anyone.

He'd tried so hard to forget about the reason for his name and appearance, to erase those memories from his mind, but no matter how hard he tried, he was reminded of who he was every time he looked in a mirror.

"Shut up geezer, I'm up!" he shouted back before he dragged himself out of bed. Shooting a glance over at the porthole above his desk, he saw that it was the crack of dawn, figures he'd get me up this early… Not that it mattered really; he hadn't slept at all this night either.

Dragging his feet, he went over to his dresser to get his work clothes for the day, a shattered mirror stood on top of it and he looked at it in disgust before he trudged off towards the bathroom. He guessed that one good thing about living with the crazy old man was that he'd learned very early on how to take care of himself, of course he'd gotten his head bashed in a few times until he'd learned that, but he was just a kid, and… and he hadn't needed to when… he shook his head. No, he wouldn't think about that, but as he entered the bathroom the first thing he saw was the mirror, a new mirror.

Staring at himself he heard the familiar ringing in his ears and his reflection morphed into, -them-… "Hahaha look at you, you're pathetic!" the first one laughed at him before it morphed into the second one, "Why didn't you just die on that rock? You're nothing but a nuisance to that old man anyway!" He felt tears begin to well up in his eyes as the person in the mirror morphed for a third time, "You know, I kinda miss having you around as a punching bag." When the mirror started to morph for a fourth time he felt his heart-rate speed up as cold dread filled him, he didn't want to see -her- too. The ringing in his ears had suddenly become deafening, and he could feel how his whole body pulsated with every beat of his heart, blinded by his terror he swung his fist in desperation at the mirror, shattering it.

When his vision began to clear and the ringing in his ears started to subside, he felt the familiar sting on his knuckles. It took him a little while before he realised what had happened though, so when he finally managed to focus on what was in front of him, he swore, there were specks of blood on the mirror shards, fuck! His hand, which was starting to throb now, had fallen to his side without him remembering doing so. As he raised it up he saw that he'd re-opened his old wounds again, the geezer is going to kill me!

He quickly thrust his hand under the tap and let cold water run over it, he watched as his blood blended with the water and disappeared down the drain. He felt his chest constrict as he fought back the tears that were threatening to spill, he wanted to scream, but he held it in. Zeff didn't need to deal with a little crybaby; he wasn't going to become more of a nuisance to him than he already was.

When the bleeding seemed to have stopped he went over to the chest with the first aid supply and fished out some gauze and bandages. He didn't know if he should be as good as he was with fixing himself up at the age of 10, but then again -she- had helped him so many times in the past that he'd learned to do it himself pretty early on. He looked at the shower and sighed, he'd have to do with a quick wash from the sink again today.

oOo

Down in the kitchen Zeff had heard the familiar crash of a mirror shattering, frowning, he'd looked up at the ceiling; he still didn't know why the little eggplant hated mirrors so bad. He'd debated with himself if he should stop putting up new ones, but the kid needed to learn how to deal with it, right? He'd hoped that by having him look at them he'd eventually learn to deal with whatever it was, but it had been going on for several months now, and by this rate he'd spent more beri on mirrors than on food for the restaurant. Maybe I'll hold off setting up a new one till next week.

When Sanji had first shattered a mirror, mere days after they'd finished building the Baratie, Zeff had thought it was an accident and not thought much about it, but when it happened again some few days later, right after he'd put up a new one, he started thinking something was amiss. But it wasn't just mirrors, the boy also seemed to have problems with anything that cast a reflection, be it spoons, ladles, glasses, windows and so on. In the beginning it had been so bad that Sanji had thrown spoons, and even knives, across the room if he'd ever caught his reflection in one of them. That had thankfully stopped after he'd given him a good kick to head a few times, and it had also been the case with everything else in the kitchen too to his relief. But still, there were often times when Sanji would randomly zone out during cooking and burn the food, or when he was cutting vegetables and almost cut off his own fingers. Zeff wasn't one to worry about others much, but this kid, this kid made him worry so much he'd wake up during the night to just listen for his breathing or him tossing in his sleep. Was this just some lingering trauma from the months they stayed on that rock? For some reason he didn't think so. He didn't know how, but he felt that this kid had really gone through some hellish stuff even before he'd met him.

oOo

Up in the bathroom, Sanji rested his head against the door, his bandaged hand on the doorknob. He'd broken another mirror; the second one this week. Why does the geezer continue putting them up? He just couldn't understand why he would do it; it had to cost him a fortune to buy new ones all the time. He smacked his forehead against the wood; he was being a burden, he knew that. Why doesn't he just throw me out? I'm useless in the kitchen, I keep ruining everything I try to make, I'm always getting in the way, and I keep hurting myself. There was absolutely no reason why the old geezer should keep him around. He always yelled at him and kicked him when he did something wrong, so why would he still want me here?

Taking a deep breath he slowly turned the doorknob and went into the hall, "Lil' Eggplant! The breakfast isn't going to make itself you know! Get down here!" Sanji was surprised that Zeff hadn't called up to him earlier, he'd have to have spent at least twenty minutes in the bathroom, usually he'd start shouting if he used longer than ten. He took another deep breath and gritted his teeth; he'd definitely get a kick for ruining another mirror and injuring his hand again.

He held his breath as he entered the kitchen, Zeff stood with the stove making scrambled eggs, his back to him, "You ruined another mirror again, huh?" It wasn't really a question, but Sanji couldn't help bite back, "Yeah, so what if I did?" He hadn't meant for it to come out so harshly, it was just easier to retort that way to hide his shame, he didn't want to sound like a weak little kid.

"Did you ruin your hand or your foot this time?" Zeff growled. Sanji knew that Zeff would probably prefer him using his feet if he were to shatter the mirrors, his saying of -a chefs hands are his most precious treasure, they're not meant for fighting!- was a lesson he'd been trying to beat into him since they built the Baratie, but it wasn't like he could control which part of his body he smashed the mirrors with. If he had any control at all he wouldn't smash them in the first place.

"Why do you care?" he snapped, still using that harsh tone he couldn't help using towards the old geezer. He wasn't going to cower and apologise; only weak people did that, and he wasn't going to let Zeff see that side of him.

"I don't want blood in my food!" Zeff barked, "Remember, your hands…"

"… are the most precious treasure you have, they're not meant for fighting, yeah, yeah I know!" he recited in a monotone. When it didn't look like the old man was going to fly at him and kick him, he went over to the workbench to start cutting up the vegetables, as that was where Zeff had already placed his stool. He had a suspicion that Zeff had placed it there instead of the sink because he'd injured his hand again, since the soap would hurt him even more. He should let me do the dishes; I deserve that after ruining another mirror.

oOo

Zeff looked over at Sanji out of the corner of his eye, his hand was heavily bandaged again, how badly did he injure it this time? He could see that he was having difficulty holding the knife properly; but he couldn't allow him to clean the dished in that condition. It was to be expected though; his wounds from two days ago had barely started to heal, and now he'd gone and tore them up again. Even if the boy had an extreme healing ability, there was still a limit to how many times a wound could be re-opened before there was some permanent damage. If he could only get him to start using his legs instead of his hands; the thought of the kid slowly destroying his most important tools was agony. He'd told him so many times that he needed to be careful with his hands, even tried beating it into him, but he just wouldn't listen, what more can I do?

"Lil' Eggplant," he grunted to get the kid's attention. He saw immediately how Sanji stiffened, but went on, "We're gonna open the restaurant late today."

Sanji looked at him startled, but then quickly narrowed his eyes, "Why?"

"Because we're gonna train on your fighting skills," he didn't know if it would work, but he couldn't think of anything else to do. If Sanji didn't start to fight with his feet soon, he'd ruin his chance of ever becoming a cook. And even if he didn't show it, it broke his heart thinking about him ruining his chance of ever being able to cook with all the ingredients of All Blue.

He saw how Sanji paled, but it couldn't be helped, "From now on I'm gonna train you every morning until you stop hitting your bloody fists at those mirrors, got it?"

oOo

Sanji saw flashes of the training he'd had when he was younger roll past his eyes and tried to suppress a shudder, he didn't want to go through that again. Zeff was looking fully at him too now, and he tried not to shrink under that piercing stare. "Got it," he tried to say as confidently as possible, but he was sure it hadn't been remotely believable. He was acting like a scared little kid again, and he hated himself for it.

I need to grow up!

He wracked his brain for anything that would help him grow up faster; he tried to recall all their guests, what made them look like adults? They were older, yes. But was that everything? No, there had to be something else. His mind went to the ones that were smoking; they did seem more mature than the rest of them, right? But how could he get his hands on some? He knew Zeff didn't have any, the old geezer had said they were disgusting and that they would ruin a man's taste buds, so that only left nicking some from some of the guest's later, right?

"Ouch!" he felt a sharp pain in his head as Zeff had given him a quick rap on the top of it with his peg-leg, "What the hell geezer?"

"Stop zoning out! You almost cut off your fingers again," Zeff barked at him, "Isn't it enough that you've almost ruined one of your hands, do you plan on making yourself totally useless in this kitchen?"

oOo

Zeff regretted his choice of words almost before he'd said them. Yes, the boy was going to be hard to put to use in the kitchen if he damaged both of his hands, but to call him useless was definitely not the right thing to say. Also, with the way Sanji seemed to curl in on himself because of it made him want to kick himself. Was this what was bothering him? Could it just be that the boy had low self-esteem? No, it was probably just another bi-product from whatever happened to him before they met. Just what has this boy gone through? He'd started to notice more and more of these things lately, he wondered if it was just him that was starting to become more aware of it, or if it was Sanji that was starting to show those sides of him more? Maybe it's a bit of both…

As he finished off the rest of the cooking, acting on instinct more than active thought, he kept a close watch on Sanji from out of the corner of his eye; without retorting or saying anything he'd gone back to chopping up the rest of the vegetables, a determined look on his face, like he was willing himself to not lose focus again. Yet his body was still cowering, like he was trying to take up as little space as possible.

He'd observed the boy's progression since they left that godforsaken rock, he was starting to get some meat back on his body again, but he was still too thin for his liking. The doctors on the cruise ship that had rescued them had told him that it was a miracle that the boy was still alive after so long, and they were astounded by his body's healing abilities as it was quite extraordinary. But they had warned him that because he was so young, and because the trauma to his body had been so severe, it was most likely going to take years before his body would start to grow normally again. They also warned him that he shouldn't be surprised if the boy experienced excruciating pain as his body worked on repairing itself. So far though Sanji hadn't shown any sign of discomfort in front of him, not that that said much, he knew that the boy was putting on a brave face as he'd heard him moan and twist around in his sleep occasionally. Not that he'd come from it unscathed either, but the slight pain in his leg probably diminished in comparison to the pain the boy was experiencing.

"Bring out some plates," he said gruffly as he took the chopped up vegetables and threw them into the frying pan. Again, Sanji didn't say anything as he went over to the cupboard and took out two plates for them, still with that determined look in his eyes. He frowned slightly, is he acting like this because of what I said? Is he really that fragile?

oOo

Focus, focus, focus! Sanji kept chanting it to himself in his head, he already knew he was useless, that was a fact and there was no changing that. But he needed to focus on staying in this world and not fall into the world he came from. He felt the throbbing in his hand and tried using that as a way to ground himself in reality. The thought of training with the old geezer terrified him. What would he make him do? He couldn't swim to save his life, he was slow so he couldn't run, and his kicks and punches were so weak they wouldn't even make a scratch on a fly.

He strained his eyes on what was in front of him, trying to focus solely on the table as he walked over and placed their plates on it. The ringing in his ears had started again, and his heart was beating faster and faster. Focus! As he tried walking over to the drawers to get out some knives and forks, he felt his head go cold and his vision go blurry. He tried to stand upright, to place one foot in front of the other, but the ringing in his ears was becoming deafening now and he couldn't help himself as he clutched his head and fell to his knees.

There were laughter all around him as he lay on the ground; -they- were standing around him, each holding a baseball bat. "You're pathetic!" You're no son of mine!" "You're just a dud!" "Why don't you just die?" "You're an eyesore!" He curled up in a ball, trying to shield himself from more hits, their shouts and jeers echoing around him. Gritting his teeth he refused to make a sound, he wouldn't let them hear his screams. He couldn't help the tears from spilling from his eyes however, and he cursed his treacherous body for showing them it hurt.

"Sanji!" someone was calling his name from far away. "SANJI!" again the same voice was yelling his name, louder this time. He felt his body being turned onto its back as someone shook his shoulders, "For fuck sake Sanji, snap out of it!"

The hands holding his shoulders were big and strong, and as he slowly opened his eyes he saw an old man with a blond moustache in front of him, "N-No!" He tried to wriggle free from the man's grip. He knew it, -they- had found him, -he- had found him! "D-Don't!" blind terror took hold of his body and he started trashing around. Instinct told him he needed to do everything to get away from that man.

oOo

Zeff quickly let go of Sanji's shoulders. He watched as the boy's eyes shone in terror as he crawled across the floor and into the corner of the workbenches where he curled up in a ball, his whole body shaking in fear. Just what was the boy seeing?

He didn't understand. Sanji had never acted that way before; one thing was him collapsing on the floor, but to have him react to him like that. Who is he so afraid of? And what the hell did they do to him?

"Sanji," he said calmly, hoping it would help him snap out of it, but Sanji just flinched violently at it and seemed to curl up even more. "Lil' Eggplant?" he tried instead, no reaction, but at least he didn't flinch at it. So he's reacting to his name? Zeff didn't know what to do, on one hand he wanted to scream at the boy to pull himself together, but on the other he knew that that wasn't the right thing to do now.

"Lil' Eggplant," he tried again, "What the hell is going on?"

He watched as Sanji hugged his knees harder and buried his face between them. His body was still visibly shaking, and Zeff could clearly hear what was unmistakably the sound of muffled sobs coming from him. Again he was left with no clue what to do, he didn't dare go over to him in case he made the situation worse, and as Sanji still didn't seem responsive he didn't know what to say either. So he did the only thing he could think of and left the kitchen, "I'll be in the office," he grunted before closing the door behind him, the breakfast all forgotten.

oOo

Sanji heard Zeff's voice from a long way away, but he couldn't make sense of the words. Had it really been that old geezer? He wasn't sure. But when he heard the click of a door closing however he somehow knew it had to be, -they- wouldn't just leave him like this. Well… cold sweat ran down his back as he gingerly lifted his shaking hands up to his face, when he only felt his skin he sobbed with relief. But with that sob it was like a floodgate had opened and he couldn't hold back anymore, more and more sobs wracked through his body which became steadily louder, and before he knew it he was screaming into hands as the endless stream of tears fell down his cheeks.

Each sob that tore out of him was a mixture of relief, sadness, fear and anger; he felt so many emotions at once now he wasn't sure he could bear it. His whole body hurt so much from the pressure inside him; it felt like if he didn't keep screaming he would die from that pain.

"Why don't we make dad's wish come true and just kill you?"

"It's music to my ears, you wanting to leave this place!"

"Don't you dare think I'm helping you or anything!"

"So he's a total waste of space then?"

"You're just a commoner!"

"If it weren't for my humanity I would kill you myself!"

I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!

He was clutching his head as their voices echoed inside it, why wouldn't they stop!

"Please, just stop!" He hadn't meant to scream it out loud, but he couldn't help it, their voices were so loud he didn't know what else to do.

Suddenly a woman's smile pierced through the darkness, "Sanji this food is delicious! Did you make it yourself?"
Mom?

Then as from far away he heard a man speak to him in what must have been a concerned tone, "Lil' Eggplant, what the hell is going on?"
Old geezer?

He slowly opened his eyes again, his vision was blurry because of the tears, but as he looked around he recognised the room as the kitchen on the Baratie. He was at the Baratie, not in the dungeon, he was safe.

I'm safe.

oOo

Up in the office Zeff had been sitting with his head in his hands as he'd kept listening to the endless sobs of the boy downstairs, it had been pure agony. He hadn't known what to do with himself. How could he even begin to help the kid when he didn't even know what was wrong with him?

When he'd heard Sanji yell out for something to stop however, he couldn't just sit still anymore and flew down the stairs to the kitchen as fast as he could, please don't let him have hurt himself again!

Bursting through the door he found that Sanji was still sitting in the same corner, looking completely lost with bloodshot eyes that were still weeping. He sighed with relief, he didn't know what he was afraid might have happened, but found that he didn't care.

"Old geezer?" Sanji croaked from where he sat, still hugging his knees. It seemed like he still had problems recognising him, that's not a good sign.

"Yeah, it's me," he said more gruffly than he would have liked, but he'd never been the paternal type and consideration and all that caring bullshit had never exactly been his strong suit. He watched as comprehension slowly dawned on Sanji, before his eyes drooped and he fell over on his side, completely out cold.

He rushed over to him in a heartbeat and picked him up; when the boy didn't react at all he quickly carried him upstairs to his bedroom. He guessed he shouldn't be surprised that he collapsed in exhaustion like that, the boy had been crying continuously for nearly an hour; of course he would be tired after that.

As he started to undress Sanji from his uniform so he could put his pyjamas on, he noticed tiny little scars dotted around his body, if he hadn't been so close to him at that moment he probably wouldn't have seen them at all. What the hell have you been through Sanji? He wondered why the doctors at the cruise ship hadn't mentioned this to him; he had told them he was his guardian hadn't he? He shook his head, it didn't matter now anyway. When he'd finished putting Sanji to bed he saw that the bandages on his hand were coming undone as well. Deciding he might as well change them while was at it, he trudged off to the bathroom.

Upon entering the bathroom however, he saw the familiar setting of a shattered mirror with bloodstains on it; he would have to clean that up later. Ignoring it for now, he went over to their first aid chest to get some clean bandages and gauze. Looking inside it he saw that they were, yet again, running low on those two supplies. He swore under his breath, he would need to make a call to one of the nearby islands later after all then, he had hoped their stock would last at least until next week, but at this rate… he shook his head again, he would worry about everything else later, right now he needed to focus on the Lil' Eggplant. He soaked a clean towel, and went back to Sanji's bedroom.

Stopping in the doorway however, Zeff couldn't help thinking of how fragile he looked lying there like that; it was almost like how he had looked in that hospital bed. He wasn't as thin as he had been back then, or as ashen and pale, but he was still so tiny and fragile.

It wasn't until Sanji took a deeper breath than he'd done previously that he snapped out of his thoughts. Hurrying over to his bed, he hoped that he wouldn't wake up when he started to peel of his bandages.

Thankfully Sanji continued to sleep as he peeled off the dirty and tear-soaked bandages, but when he'd removed them completely his heart sank. The tiny knuckles were so torn up he was amazed that the boy was able to move his fingers at all. Using the moist towel he'd brought with him, he gently dabbed away the blood that had stared to ooze out of the cuts. As he examined the wounds more closely, he could see the clear signs of scabbing forming on them at a rapid speed. The doctors were right; his body's healing ability was extraordinary.

When he was certain that the bleeding had stopped, he gently wrapped the tiny hand in bandages and laid it carefully back on the bed. He sat next to him for a while longer, he didn't really know why, the Lil' Eggplant was fast asleep and he wasn't in any danger, but he found that he just couldn't leave him just yet. He couldn't really describe the feeling he had, was it worry? No, it was something more than that, something deeper.
He clutched the bridge of his nose and sighed, is this some kind of parental feeling?

AN: Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it. And please like/follow, and or review to tell me what you think about it. Any feedback is appreciated.